#the consequences of my way of living in the past is catching up to me yall. im in dire need of change

[aria0fgold]

I feel like whenever my body unlocks something new, it makes it a point to remind me about it everyday now. I'm 24 and I honestly feel like I'm 30.

[sweetnans]

Stuck in the moment || Bakugo, K.

Pairing: fuckboy Bakugo/hopelessly romantic fem. reader

Trope: Enemies/friends to lovers.

summary: You made a mistake, a huge mistake. You fucked the most cocky, annoying, bastard, fuckboy you knew. Bakugo Katsuki. And that fact was against all your beliefs. Now, after the rumor (truth) spread like a pandemic virus in college you'll have to live with the stormy consequences of your acts and whatever trash was brought with it.

a/c: Hey, it's me again. Here we are in a new series I plan to continue. I really hope you enjoy it. I put my favorite man in action (bakugo) being a selfish bastard that you would love eventually and I couldn't help to put another "trope" I'm a sucker for (guardian/father figure Aizawa) I'm so sorry if that bothers you. Once again, I'm sorry if I misspelled something, English is not my first language. (Not proofread yet)

Pt.2 Pt.3 ♡

m.list

Blame it on the ovulation process. You couldn't believe that you ended up making out (drunkly) and fucking the one and only Bakugo Katsuki.

Bakugo was a total pain in the ass back in UA high school, and after the big battle, when the doctor told him to cooperate after his heart injury and surgery, he changed for better. Well... better is a word to describe it.

He had the looks, he had the attitude, and now, in College UA, he found a way to get the chicks at his feet. Who knew he would be good at flirting and getting the female attention, putting aside his obnoxious and loud behavior?

In the other part, you knew better, but damn, now you felt bad, betrayed by your own hormones, doing the walk of shame to your room.

Bakugo Katsuki was a fucking legend in college, the major fuckboy, hoping from chick to chick and jeez that broke all your standards about boys, how did you even end up in his room?

Oh, that was a good question that you could answer. Fucking cosmopolitans made by Denki and Jirou, they wrecked all your senses and because the planets were aligned you ended ip tearing up all his clothes along with him grabbing every part of your body while eating your mouth. He was a good kisser though.

You slid your keys on the lock of your room door. Jirou was there in her bed, laying with Denki who was sound asleep.

"Girl," she sat in seconds at the sight of you, patting Denki's arm to wake him up.

"Don't," you told her, completely defeated. "I just wanna cry"

You couldn't stop the tears streaming down your face.

For you, giving Bakugo your body and an intimate moment wasn't something to be happy for. He wasn't in your to-do list compared to other girls that you knew were dying for a peak of him.

You believed in love, in the vulnerability that it brought alongside the happiness and the sappiness. You wanted to be loved and not be used. For you, Bakugo wasn't a trophy, he was a mistake.

"Just let it go." Jirou hugged you tightly. "Did he do something to you?"

"No, no," you cried in her shoulder, feeling her arms around your body and Denki cli ging in your back. "He was a complete gentleman,"

You hated yourself for reacting like that. The man gave you all of his stamina pounding himself into you, and he was almost romantic about it. You were a fool, not like you were catching feeling upon the act, not at all. You just didn't want to be one more of his long ass list.

You had a single rule. Don't sleep with people you don't have feelings for. You knew that for some people, it was easy not to get attached but for you, even if you didn't feel anything like sentimental after the act you ended up craving the affection and the tenderness that came up with a relationship.

You've slept with boyfriends in the past and you did good with friends with benefits because at least there was a friendship to cling on, in this case, you only knew Bakugo by name and because Denki, your bestfriend's and roommate's boyfriend hangout occasionally with his group.

"I'll avoid him," you told your friends. "And everything's going to be fine"

You dried your tears and excused yourself, gathering your belongings to go and take a shower. You could still feel his scent in your skin.

Walking to the common woman bathroom, you tried to block the memories in your mind, and it worked until you opened the door.

"Hey," the pink girl greeted while putting on make-up in front of the mirror. "Oh my god, I know you, you are the girl from the party last night, right?"

Mina Ashido, one of Bakugo closest friend.

"Yeah," you tried to smile, but you failed. God wasn't on your side today.

"Are you okay?" She asked worried.

What could have given you away? Oh, your swollen and red eyes for sure.

"Yeah, I'm just hungover." You tried to laugh her worry away, and when Jirou asked about the encounter, you told her that you wanted to believe that it worked. But you never fooled anyone.

"Me too" she said giggling.

Thank god she didn't push it.

"I'm going to shower, so see you later...?" You said, and it sounded like a plan, but you just wanted to be nice with her.

"Oh, before you go, do you have any tampons? My period just came early this month. I think it's a reaction after drinking a huge amount last night"

Hormones, you knew about that.

Shit, period? Did he wear any condoms? I mean, you had your anti-babies method and all, but what about STD?

"Hello? Calling from earth, " Mina waved his hand in front of your face and you regained consciousness.

"Shit, yeah, sorry, here." You led her your last tampon from your bag.

"Thank you so much," Mina said, grabbing all her things into her purse. "I will see you around"

That encounter only made things worse. Albeit you wanted to avoid the bastard you needed to find him to have the most embarrassing talk of all.

You knew Bakugo's sexual life like the palm of your hand. The rumors on campus spread like the Black Death in medieval Europe. You prayed that your name wouldn't appear on those rumors.

It was easy finding him among his friends, the red-headed enormous cinnamon roll, the tall one with the tape quirk, and, of course, Mina.

You approached slowly and tensed. The first one on seeing you was Mina, who was happy to see you again after you gave her your last tampon. She waved his hand in your direction, and you smiled at her, trying to dissipate your nerves.

The time has come.

"Hey, uhm, I need to talk to you." You twisted your hands nervously after patting his shoulder to gain his attention. He turned around, and when caught that it was you in front of him, he just glared at you from above, the sun at his back making you squint your eyes a little. "In private," you said to complete your previous sentence.

He wasn't even giving you the time of the day before he was almost laughing at your face.

"Sorry, princess, I don't do rebounds." he solidly huffed at you with a side smile and all.

Mina was the first one to scold him while his friends just whined at his behavior.

That damn motherfucker son of a bitch bastard.

Your face passed from being the normal shade of your foundation and skin to a different shade of red. How could he be such a cunt about it?

But you had your mouth, too.

"Oh no, don't worry, I haven't seen a dick as small as yours, and you think I want to repeat that shit show? Oh, please. I just wanted to check if you have any STD I have to be aware of"

You lied about his dick at least. The only truth was that you didn't want to repeat the act.

The boys that were hanging out with him turned around to hide the giggling mess they were, while Bakugo only grunted in response, clenching his fist beside his stiff body.

"Why? Is there a problem down there? Is it itching or falling off?" He squinted his eyes at you, trying vehemently to put you down with his words. You denied moving your head like you didn't care at all about his attitude. "I don't have any STD. You should have seen it yourself when you were sucking me off"

Well, that was something a few people around heard. Scratch the "Don't be part of the rumor" from the list.

"Yeah, I should've had, but I forgot to bring my magnifying glass with me, that's completely on me, not your fault that you weren't blessed with something as big as your fucking ego"

The hushed screams of his friends were the beat you needed to turn around and leave him hanging. He had a piercing mouth, and you were almost trembling from the exchange of words, and yet, you didn't have the answer that you expected. Was he clean or not? Bakugo was a trustworthy man? Jeez, what a fucker.

Again, for the second time of the day you made your own walk of shame to your room.

"And, what did he say?" Jirou was waiting for you while she gathered all her belongings (and Denki's) to her side of the room.

"He said he doesn't have STD but I don't know if I should trust him...the scene was pretty intense." You sat in your bed, and she looked at you incredulously.

"Intense, how?" She quirked a brow, and you just shrugged before telling her everything.

"You did what!?" Denki stomped through the door. He was obviously listening behind the door like an old woman.

You hid your face in between your hands, internally screaming exhausted because of your poor decisions. Why did you leave the party with him of all people?

"He just nipped under my skin, and I had to defend myself, that's all," you tried to excuse yourself.

"You know that encounter is going to be the gossip of the week, right?" Jirou tapped your head gaining your attention. "You can't run of it"

"Jeez, I know"

All the situation was escalating from bad to worse real quick.

"Okay, fine, let's chill for a sec," Denki interrupted. "I'll find out about Kacchan medical records and I'll let you know, don't worry about it"

That's a good friend.

"Yeah, Denki can take care of that while you..."

"While I what?" You took your face off your hands.

"You know the rumor is going to spread before monday, right? You have to talk to Aizawa before he knows all of it in the worst way"

Shit. You had completely forgotten about the man who was kind enough to take you under his wing and be your guardian.

This was about to get good.

Let me know if you like it

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[moonstruckme]

White Lies

summary: when you come back to work soon after getting injured on a case, all you can think about is keeping the public safe from your latest unsub; Spencer's thinking about keeping you safe

cw: case involves kidnapped and murdered women, but no details are given

Spencer Reid x bau!reader ♡ 981 words

You’re aching from sitting up straight in your chair, but you do your best to ignore it. You keep your eyes firmly on the screen as JJ presents an overview of your new case, doing your best to look engaged and attentive. A consequence of your job is extraordinarily perceptive coworkers, which means that when you have something you want to keep to yourself, you often have to go to inconvenient lengths to avoid notice. You’d hustled like never before when you’d gotten the call to come in, getting yourself situated in the briefing room a good ten minutes before anyone else arrived. That meant no one had been around to see you limping into the building, taking your time to sit down in your chair, or downing two extra-strength pain relievers with your coffee. 

Emily had expressed some surprise at seeing you back at work so soon after you were injured in the field and you’d gotten an odd look from Spencer, but neither of them had time to question you further before Hotch entered and began asking for details about the case. This one’s got to do with women being kidnapped and subsequently dumped in rural Texas, and not to be dramatic, but no physical pain can be worse than the torment of not being able to help catch the guy who’s doing this to them. All you have to do now is avoid giving anyone on your team reason to question your capability. 

“News networks have already published some details of the case, so we’ve got some damage control to do,” JJ finishes, “but the local law enforcement is very eager for our help and it seems like they’re going to be open to what we have to say.” 

“Good. Y/N.” Hotch isn’t even looking up from the case, but you snap to attention. “You’re cleared to travel?”

“Yes.” 

“Good.” He snaps the binder shut. “Wheels up in thirty.” 

Everyone else stands, and you stall, waiting until all backs are turned before pushing yourself up out of your chair with a grimace. Spencer turns around at the door, stepping aside for Garcia to pass through, and then you’re alone. 

“You’re cleared to travel?” he asks you.

“Yes,” you repeat yourself. 

Spencer crosses his arms, standing just barely in front of the door. You could push past him if you really wanted to leave, but he knows you won’t. You and Spencer haven’t been together for long, but he’s always had a way of reading you when even the other members of your team can’t. You keep your face carefully blank. “You’ve barely had any time to heal,” he says. “Who would clear you?”

“A doctor.”

“What doctor?”

You sigh, crossing your arms to match him. “My friend Maggie.” 

Spencer’s eyebrows knit together. “Doesn’t your friend Maggie live in Chicago?”

“She does,” you admit. 

“So how did she determine that you were safe for travel?” 

He’s frowning like he already knows. You think about not answering (what’s he going to do, whine to Hotch about it? They need everyone they can get for a time-sensitive case like this, and you know Spencer is just as aware of that as you are), but then you catch the flicker of worry in his gaze. It’s hard to be angry at him when he’s clearly doing what he thinks will help you most. “We talked on the phone,” you say, softly but still firm enough that you hope he won’t argue further. “I told her I feel fine, and she cleared me.” 

The sigh that leaves Spencer is so long and heavy you’re surprised his ghost doesn’t come out at the end of it. “Sweetheart,” he says, coming forward to wrap his hands around your arms. His thumbs rub synchronized paths, up and down on the skin above your elbows. “You know that’s not the same as having a doctor actually check you over. We both know you’re not fragile—” he gives you a small smile, and you feel a tug on the corners of your lips in response “—but your body is vulnerable right now. The last thing you need is to make it worse by getting hurt again in the field.” 

You can’t look him in the eyes. You can handle a verbal lashing, but it’s softness like this that wears you down, and Spencer knows it. You fix your gaze on his chin, trying to think past the sproutling of guilt he’s sneakily planted in your gut. 

Spencer gives your arms a light squeeze. “Let me just talk to Hotch,” he says, pushing his advantage. “I’ll tell him about the mixup with your clearance, and then he can decide if you should still come along on this one or not. I’m sure Garcia could use the help if you stay back.” 

You look at him, feeling like a kid chastened for being outside after dark. “Garcia’s a one-woman army, she doesn’t need me. You guys need all the manpower you can get for this case.” 

“I know.” Spencer’s tone is consoling, and that only makes it worse. He drops a kiss on the top of your head. “But I need you to be safe even more than that. Hotch might still decide to let you come, okay? Just…you have to be honest about these things, sweetheart.” He gives you a disappointed look, and you have to look away from his eyes, well-meaning as they are. “Your health is a serious thing. We need you for years, not just for today.” He ducks, catching your gaze. “Okay?”

“Okay,” you say quietly, and Spencer gives you a smile, kissing your cheek. 

“Okay, just give me a minute,” he says, and if he weren’t on the way to foil all your plans, you’d say he looks downright merry as he starts towards Hotch’s office. “I’ll let you know what he says.”

[wood-white-writer]

“Didn’t mean to make your heart Blue” || [1/…]

- OPLA!Buggy x F!Reader

“So, I don’t blame you if you want to bury me in your memories,”

— Mitski, "Goodbye, My Danish Sweetheart"

Pairing: Buggy the Clown (Live Action) x F!Reader

Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6

Summary: You were an apprentice of Gol D. Roger’s crew in your youth, long before his eventual demise. Along with the Red-Haired Shanks and Buggy, you were a formidable trio; the embodiment of a new generation of pirates yet to come. But times changed, and so did you and your friends. Years have passed since you last saw Buggy following the dispute that you thought ended your friendship. When you finally reunite with the blue-haired menace you once considered your closest friend, it’s under less than “friendly” circumstances.

Warnings: Fem!Reader, Canon Typical Violence, Slight Canon Divergence, Buggy is an asshole, The reader used to go by "Cross-Hairs" in the past.

A/N: I’m basing this primarily on the LA! version of “One Piece”, as I’ve just recently begun to watch the Anime.

Luffy, for his unyielding devotion towards his dreams of becoming the King of Pirates, evidently lacks the sense of foresight required of a pirate to successfully navigate the seven seas. Then again, it's nothing new.

You’ve always known. The kid's been a hazard to society even in his youth; no filter between his brain and his mouth despite the ungodly amount of food he pushes between his jaws. You used to watch him make his proclamations in front of Shanks' merry band with little more than vaguely piqued interest, indifferent to the youthful albeit naive optimism he exhibited.

Shanks, meanwhile, always used to find his demeanor endearing - “He’s a good kid. Let him dream,”

And so you let him. You watched him dream for the next ten years, making sure that his dreams didn't catch the wrong kind of attention until he was old enough to hold his own weight.

However, back then, Luffy's actions seldom warranted any real consequences. Save for the incident with the Bandit and the Sea King, he's rarely been in any real danger prior to his debut as a pirate.

An unruly child spouting declarations of desiring to become the next “King of Pirates” hardly would’ve caused more of a ripple effect than to make other people shake their heads and laugh. And if it did, you were there to make sure it didn’t.

Now, not only has his actions earned you the ire of the Marines by stealing the Map of the Grand Line, but it has also garnered the attention of other opponents. Far more dangerous ones than the likes of Alvida or even that Axe-Hand Moron.

It was only a matter of time.

So when you find yourself waking up in a wooden cage with the rest of your reluctant crew mates, accompanied by a head-throbbing headache at that, your first instinct is to heave an exasperated sigh.

"Goddamn it."

"Oh, you're up." It's Luffy. He looks unharmed, albeit disoriented, not too unlike yourself. "How're you feeling?"

"Like I just snorted a bottle of rum through my nostrils." You get up into a crouching position, eying your surroundings, which doesn't leave much up for inspection considering your cage consists of broad wide planks. "What the fuck happened?"

The last thing you recall before being knocked out was a Jolly Roger in the distance, too far away for you to make out properly. So, not Marines, but pirates.

You can't tell if that's a good or a bad thing.

"Think we wouldn't have told you if we knew?" The swordsman - Zoro - replies with a deadpan look of boredom on his face as he attempts to peek through the cracks in your confinement. You have half a mind to tell him where to shove it but opt for a more quiet approach.

It's during moments like these when you realize you actually miss that scrawny pink-haired kid with the glasses - Koby. He never spoke to you like this. Granted, he was probably intimidated by the way you were always hovering behind Luffy like a silent guardian, but he didn't provide unnecessary comments like Bounty Hunter over there does.

Small blessings and all that. Very small.

You provide a solid kick to the plank on Zoro's right side without warning, catching him off-guard and earning you a short-lived glare. The planks loosen considerably, probably not meant to contain you for long.

Meanwhile, you listen half-heartedly to Luffy and Nami as they discuss the potential identities of your captors.

"They're not marines," Luffy assures her. "Before I got knocked out, I saw a Jolly Roger. We've been captured by pirates."

You glance at him from over your shoulder. "What'd it look like?"

"I don't know, it looked ... like ..." he pauses in thought. "A skull with crossbones, and a red ... dot? It almost looked like a nose, if bones could have noses, but they don't."

The blood in your veins freezes up, as does the rest of your body until their voices blur into nothing.

You've been keeping occasional track of him in the years that's passed since you parted ways, and when he amounted to a considerable bounty on his head, his signature Jolly Roger was hard not to miss on his wanted posters.

-------

"I didn't know there were so many pirates."

You tilt your head at the wall decorated with various wanted posters of different pirates, some more torn and discoloured than others, some more dead than others. You can't find your own amongst them in Shells Town, but then again, it has been some time since last you were on the Marines' radar. More likely than not, your poster is hidden somewhere underneath the several layers of—

"Hey, there's yours!" Luffy damn-near exclaims in wonder and points at— Oh yeah, there it is, right above Foxy's poster, a little yellow around the edges but still holding strong.

WANTED Dead or Alive "Cross-Hairs" 25,000,000

"Oh, wow, a 25-million bounty. That's a lot of berries."

The image is well over a decade old, taken back in your early twenties, and you were much more easy to identify back then. You were sharper in some angles, softer in others, compared to the present.

You look different now. Less robust, a little older, but no less dangerous in the grand scheme of things. Your sharp eyes remain the same, a trait Gol D. used to remark upon with a mischievous glimmer in his own eyes.

"You have eyes sharp enough to cut through steele," he'd say and ruffle your hair. A sense of loss perforating your being at the memory.

Despite being in your thirties, age tends to alter the appearance of most people, and you consider that a pretty good advantage right about now as you're standing surrounded by an army of Marine officers. Given the fact that you've spent the last couple of years away from the sea without a trace or clue, the World Government probably assumes you've died or gone into hiding.

Be that as it may, they didn't even bother to decrease the bounty since last time. How odd.

While Luffy spends a few moments admiring your old picture like a child that just learned their relative is some kind of famous celebrity, Koby is less than enthralled by this revelation.

"T-That's one of the highest bounties in the East-Blue." He is hesitant to look up at you. "What did ... What did you do to earn it?"

"A little here, a little there. Kicked a few asses, stole a bit of treasure along the way. Nothing too bad." You admit with a half-assed shrug as you continue to inspect the various posters.

For the boy's peace of mind, you won't go into the less ... child-friendly details regarding your reputation. About the way you used to fight to the blood with most of your opponents, Marines and pirates in equal measure. How you'd stand victorious atop a pile of broken limbs and pleading sounds from the defeated crowd.

"Yeah, yeah ..." Koby agrees with a feeble nod. "There are way worse pirates on the Grand Line."

Your gaze happens upon a particular wanted poster, and your demeanor stiffens. Not enough to notice from an ordinary point of view, but it does nonetheless.

His sharp cerulean eyes and bright red nose seem to mock you from his picture, and a heavy feeling settles in your heart. A feeling of hurt and betrayal you've long since thought abandoned in the corners of your heart. Not even the loss of your old captain could hope to compare to it

You snap back to Luffy, your voice a little strained as you speak though you desperately try to cover it up. "Are we done here, Luffy?"

------

It's your fucking luck it had to be him of all people to come after Luffy first.

Why him?

Fuuuuuu—

"We don't need to fight." Luffy's voice snaps you back to the present. "I can talk to them, pirate to pirate."

"Not with this one," you whisper more to yourself than anyone else. The only one who seems to catch onto this is Zoro, but the moment he opens his mouth to ask, Nami beats him to it.

A discussion regarding the duality of piracy quickly causes you to lose all interest in the following sequence.

You don't trust either the thief or the bounty hunter as far as you can throw them, and the feeling is mutual in both parts. Sure, they proved useful in getting rid of the Axe-Hand, and have had thus far been tolerable enough for you not to throw them overboard.

Still, Zoro recognized you on the spot where the Marines failed to, and though Nami doesn't, your status as a pirate is enough reason for her to distrust you.

As mentioned, you don't trust them, but Luffy does, and his lead is the only one you'll follow. This is his voyage, and you’re not here to keep him from making mistakes unless you consider them particularly vital. If this bites him in the end, then you'll be there to keep him afloat.

After all, you made a promise to your old red-haired friend.

"Look after the lad for me, will you? Help him achieve his dream."

With no patience left to wait to get the fuck out of here as quickly as possible, you prepare to kick through the planks. Just then, the top piece of your confinements unfold, and what you're greeted with is the pinpoint definiton of a fever dream on acid.

Tightrope walkers swinging in the air, acrobatics performing acts of impressive feats, someone fire-breathing, and-- was that a guy juggling on a unicycle passing you just now?

A circus troupe. You've been captured by a fucking circus troupe.

"Oh, what the actual fuck?" Is all you can manage to mutter, a sentiment Zoro surprisingly agrees with if the nod he adds serves as any indication.

The troupe has an audience, you come to observe in the distance. They're clapping and cheering on cue with the sign being held in the air, yet they look ... wrong. Forced. Puppets with strings embedded in their limbs, so to speak.

You narrow your eyes in distaste at the view. The hell has he been up to as of late?

In the midst of the enforced round of applause, a voice gradually makes itself more and more prominent through the masses. Deeper and huskier since last you heard it, but yet painfully known to your ears.

"No, no, no, NO! Stop clapping!"

And then he appears. The ringleader himself, exasperated as he throws his arms out to each side and effectively silencing the crowd.

"No, stop! This is all wrong!"

You momentarily forget to breathe as you watch him come into view from behind the audience. He's taller than the last you saw him, that's for damn certain. Must've hit a second growth spurt in your absence because, while you were relatively on equal foot in your youth, he now seems to have grown a head or so taller than yourself.

And like yourself, he's changed, and not inherently for the better. It's a relative statement considering that the life of a pirate is oftentimes a hard one, but it's a fact nonetheless. The years have not been any kinder to him than they've been for yourself. He still has the same hair, the same general appearance, but he's changed.

Out of the three of you, Shanks seems to have had it the easiest in recent years, appearance-wise. He never lost his smile or affinity for the brighter things in life, even when he had his damn arm chewed off.

Meanwhile, you lost your dreams, and he seems to have lost everything you recognized about him in your youth. His smile, his laughter, and even his stance had been replaced by some replica that fails to hold a candle to the original one.

This is a show master, not your friend. Then again, you haven't been friends for a long time now.

Still, changed as he may be from an outward point of view, Buggy's eyes have not. They're clear like the seas, just as they were long ago. (And his nose, of course. How could you forget?).

You can't tell if that's a relief yet.

You're not a fearful person by nature, having lost the distinct ability years ago. Now, however, you feel the tremors vibrating through your ribcage at the sight of him. That's why you decide to turn your face slightly to the side for now, hoping to prolong the inevitable.

Fortunately, your presence evades Buggy's notice for just a while longer as he berates his crew. "The spotlight was late! You completely missed my entrance!"

The sound of said spotlight changing its focus can be heard.

"And where, oh where, was the dancing lion?"

Good! While he's occupied, maybe you can find the right moment to grab Luffy and get the hell--

"Hey! I know you! I saw your wanted poster in Shells Town!"

... You want to dig a hole in the sand and bury yourself right about now.

"You're the clown guy! Uhm ... Binky, right?"

Buggy, you scream inside as you suppress the urge to yank Luffy by the shoulders and shake him until all of his limbs drop down on the ground. Fuck Shanks and fuck the promise. He's Buggy the fucking Clown, and you did not have to go out of your way to pinpoint that fact!

In your internal state of dismay, you settle with trying to locate potential escape routes. Maybe a hole in the walls of the tent, or an absent-minded guard by the entrance. You're stronger than most, with years of experience behind you, but you're not capable of fighting your way through a crowd with three tagalongs so seamlessly.

"Buggy," the man of the hour states as he approaches, still having failed to notice you. "Buggy the Clown."

No one says anything, which he takes as a sign to continue on with - what you personally regard - as a moronic long line of titles.

"Buggy, the Flashy Fool." Still nothing. He raises his arms, like a lost puppy begging for scraps of recognition. "Buggy, the Genius Jester."

Seriously, what's with him and all the names? He’s always been … overdramatic, but this cuts the cake even for him.

"Wow," Luffy seems genuinely impressed, a stark contrast to his companions, who would rather be anywhere than here. "You have a lot of names. I bet everyone in the East Blue knows who you are."

A range of gasps echo from the unwilling audience, and you finally snap your head to the front in alarm. Fuck, he couldn't have used a better word than that. Granted, Luffy didn't mean it in that context, or even that word, but it doesn't matter.

Another thing that hasn't changed about Buggy... And that very same thing might as well be what snaps him out of his theatric act.

You thought Buggy finally would've noticed you by now, seeing it as you're finally willing to face him, but his eyes remain eerily glued to the kid.

"What did you just say?" Buggy asks, calmly.

Way too calmly for your liking.

Oh, no.

Luffy blinks in confusion. "Just that everyone knows who you are?"

You notice the clown lunging before Luffy does.

In the span of a second, you plant yourself between them, the only barrier between him and the clown's rage. You don't move an inch even as Buggy closes in with his gloved hand outstretched towards the boy, having not yet registered your sudden appearance until his fingers are inches from your face.

Your eyes finally lock, the blue in his eyes more prominent now than ever. Almost two decades since the last time you saw each other, and Buggy ceases his attempted assault as though time itself freezes.

At first, there is nothing in his eyes but surprise. Anger. Maybe even a trace of admiration towards the one who dared stand against him. Hot and burning beneath his irises, like glowing embers left behind in a dying pyre.

Finally, there is recognition, and the fire reignites warmer and scorching more than ever before.

He doesn't say anything at first, and neither do you, but the glare in your eyes conveys the message loudly enough that even the performers and troupe members alike know not to interfere.

"Leave him be."

You think of what to say, what you can say, after years of being silent. A simple “Hi” will not suffice, and considering the way of which you parted, there is little room for confessions.

Then, Buggy begins to laugh.

It starts out as a whisper of a chuckle, then gradually develops until he's full-out holding his stomach in wheezes, tears leaking from the corners of his eyes and smudging his make-up.

He points his arm up as he tries to contain himself, and the guy holding the APPLAUSE-sign picks up on the subliminal message. Everyone in the place begins to laugh, both the captives and the captors, so loudly this time that it makes you feel small in a way you haven’t felt since you were a child.

You glance cautiously around yourself, sharing brief looks with your companions before the noises abruptly stop, having most likely been forced to do so.

When you look back at Buggy again, he's smiling wider than ever, but his eyes hold no genuine humor. No, there's an unidentifiable emotion swirling in the depths of his blue eyes that you fail to decipher before he speaks.

"Well, well, well! Isn't this an unexpected surprise?" He raises his arm to gesture to you, as if you're an exotic exhibition behind a display case for everyone to behold. The spotlight is now aimed at you, momentarily blinding your vision.

"Ladies and gentlemen! It is my honor to present to you, the one and only, the myth, the legendary 'Cross-Hairs'! The Beast of the East!"

Applause rings again in the air as Buggy continues.

"She was famous throughout all of East Blue for her many endeavors, with a bounty greater than even yours flashy truly." Admitting that fact looks like it physically hurt him, but he prevails. "And then, almost ten years ago, after her biggest heist yet, she just POOFS!" He snaps his fingers and lets them slowly decline for dramatic effect. "Vanishes out of the blue. Leaving the seas for an unforeseen amount of time."

It would seem like you were keeping track of each other all along.

The next words Buggy utters are so hushed that only you hear them, and his smile is gone.

"Then again, you do have a track-record of leaving things behind, haven’t you?"

Oh, the fucking nerve of this guy. You take a step forward, clenching and unclenching you jaw so much your teeth feel on the bring of cracking. How dare he? How fucking dare he?

You’re about to shout back at him, argue, throwing every caution to the wind just to correct him and scream:

("You're the one who left me, remember?")

Before you can, something taps your right shoulder. Thinking it's Luffy, you turn around, and the last thing you recall before it all fades to black is an air of red dust clouding your vision.

[myownwholewildworld]

wherever you go (a joel miller's ff) - chapter 2

chapter 1 | series masterlist | main asterlist | chapter 3

pairing: outbreak!2003!joel x f!reader.

summary: it’s been nine months since your first encounter with the miller brothers and you're getting slightly annoyed with joel's attitude towards you.

warnings: mdni. mention of suicide. a bit of smut (kissing, rubbing). swear words. both joel and reader get a tad angry. pet names (darling). reader is female, no other description given. reader is mid-late 20s, joel is 36. no use of y/n.

a/n: i might have said this was a one-shot ― well, i lied heh. i have come up with an entire storyline in my head so need to put it into words. this is going to be a bumpy ride because i love drama. reader's pov and joel's pov. this is not proofread and english is not my mother tongue, so please excuse any mistakes you might spot. if you would like to be tagged on the next chapters, please let me know. interactions welcome. enjoy!

w/c: ~1.9k.

The rhythm those two had was relentless. You were barely able to keep up, your legs trembling as if you were a newborn foal. Your knees almost gave way, your lungs burning with exhaustion. You managed to grab onto a low hanging branch of a nearby tree to stop yourself from falling.

“Hey― Wait up!”, you shouted at your companions.

One of the men stopped in his tracks, Tommy turning around to look at you. Joel didn’t even bother to come to a halt ― He just kept on walking as if he didn’t hear you.

Sometimes you wondered if he had lost some hearing from his right ear because of the gunshot, or if he just had a really good knack at ignoring you. Every time you talked to him, you felt like you were a nuisance to him. You had spent nine months with the Miller brothers, and you were no closer to knowing Joel than you were to speaking Klingon. You had no issues with Tommy at all, he made the effort to make you feel comfortable. The same thing could not be said of Joel.

At first you thought it was because of how you two met. You had stopped him when he was at his lowest point. You had learned from Tommy that Joel had buried his daughter that day. You understood that feeling so damn well, you almost regretted interrupting him. But you could not just stand and watch as someone decided to take their own lives. You knew how that would have affected Tommy, because you had been on the receiving end of those bad news. It was, probably, selfish of you to have taken away that decision from Joel, but the consequences would have been far more devastating.

But as time went on, you were not so sure anymore why Joel tried his hardest to avoid you. You couldn’t recall a time where you treated him badly ― quite the opposite. You were kind, even understanding when he was rude to you unnecessarily. You looked out for him ―and his brother, of course― in many ways. You were younger, but not defenseless, and had proven yourself useful many a times. So why did he behave like a prick most of the time?

“Joel, hold on”, Tommy said to his brother, tapping on his shoulder, before approaching you.

You had rested your back against the tree you had held on for dear life, trying to catch your breath. Tommy got to your side and offered you his water bottle. You took a sip, avoiding making eye contact with Joel ― not that he was looking in your direction, anyway.

“You alright there?”, Tommy asked.

“Yes, well, no”, you chuckled. “I’m pretty tired, we have been walking for the past six hours non-stop. I need a break, otherwise someone is gonna have to carry me”, you joked.

You caught Joel swiftly turning around to pierce you with those brown eyes. He quickly retreated and looked around, as if he was paying attention to his surroundings in case you were not alone. You frowned, thinking you had imagined it.

“It’s getting pretty late, we probably should set camp somewhere around here. I’ll go and have a look around, make sure it’s safe”, you saw the hesitation in Tommy’s eyes, knowing exactly what he was thinking. He didn’t like leaving Joel alone, neither did you, in all honesty. “Keep an eye on him, please”, Tommy whispered.

You nodded and saw him disappear. You sighed, preparing yourself to be rejected once more. Sometimes you wondered if you were a masochist.

Joel was on guard as soon as he saw you approach him. He looked around, even though he knew there was nowhere to go. He didn’t like you because of how you made him feel. Because you made him feel. You were too nice, always willing to help no matter what, quick with a joke to make people laugh even in the darkest of times. He admired your strength, your wits, your outspokenness, your light-heartedness. You were a beam of light in the midst of darkness ― sometimes he felt like a fly getting too close to the sun.

But he knew better than that. He was not built for any type of personal relationship. He had tried ― and failed. The only connection he had left was Tommy and he was not too sure about that one either. Since his unfruitful attempt at putting an end to his life, Tommy had been walking on eggshells around him. He didn’t need that ― being treated like a damn old book everyone was too afraid to handle.

“Do you have some water?”, you asked him.

Joel almost jumped on the spot ― you had approached him from his right-hand side, which meant he didn’t hear you getting close. So close he had to back up one step. He noticed your bottom lip twitching and understood that you had interpreted his step back as a rejection. He felt compelled to change your mind but didn’t in the end. It was better this way.

“Yeah”, Joel replied as he reached towards his back and grabbed his water bottle from the side of the backpack, offering it. “You have finished yours already?”, he didn’t intend for it to sound accusatory, but it did.

You rolled your eyes, slightly annoyed, and grabbed the bottle to drink some more. “Yes, it’s very hot today, sorry for being human”, you said, giving it back.

“I didn’t mean it that way”, he offered as an excuse, shrugging his shoulders. “I hear a river nearby, I’ll go refill yours and mine”, he extended his hand towards you.

You snatched your water bottle from your backpack and gave it to him. Then you saw him starting to walk away.

“Wait! Where are you going?”, you almost stumbled with your own feet as you followed him.

“As I said, I’m gonna refill the bottles”, he looked at you as if you were daft.

“But we can’t leave, Tommy might come back and not find us―”.

“I’m going, you are staying right here”, he said matter-of-factly.

“No, I’m coming with you”.

“What are you now? My fucking babysitter?”, he snapped at you, his whole demeanour quickly changing, his jaw clenched.

“No, you prick ― I’m tired, I don’t want to be left alone, waiting around, if something happens”, you rapidly came up with a lie. You did feel bad though, because he had seen right through you and Tommy.

“Mhmm”, he muttered. “Ah’ite”.

You walked a couple of feet behind him while he guided you both towards the sound of running water. It really only was like twenty yards away, so Tommy would have no trouble finding you. When you both reached the riverbank, Joel kneeled to dunk a different bottle he kept in his backpack.

“Why are you always so freaking mean to me? Have I done something wrong? Is it because I pushed the gun away from you?”, you babbled before you could stop yourself, bracing yourself as if you were cold, but the reality was you suddenly felt too exposed.

The silence dragged on, and you couldn’t stand it.

“Look, if that’s it, I’m sorry, but…”.

“No, it’s not that”, Joel interrupted you, still not making eye contact. He retrieved the bottle and attached a filter to it. He then put it upside down on top of your bottle and squeezed, so clean water started to fill the container. “It’s just… Nevermind”.

“It’s just what? Don’t you think I deserve an explanation of why you have treated me like shit for the past nine months?”, you pushed, starting to feel your hot-headedness overcome you. A side of you Joel had not come across yet.

He looked up at you, his brows almost touching each other, as he towered above you.

“Hold your horses right there, kid”, he said as he passed you the water bottle with a bit more force than necessary.

“Kid? How old do you think I am, Joel?”, you almost laughed.

“I don’t know, twenty? It doesn’t really matter, I―”.

“Try adding a few years to that, you dickhead”, you crossed your arms at your chest.

He looked slightly confused. Joel did think you were younger than you actually were. Not that it mattered anyway ― in fact, it didn’t change a thing.

“Look, it’s nothing to do with you. And mind your tongue”, he kneeled again to repeat the filtering process.

“So what is it then?”, you insisted while you secured the water bottle to your backpack.

Silence again. Sometimes you would love to punch some words out of him.

“Just leave it be”, he mumbled as he stood up once done with his own bottle.

You cut the distance between you and Joel to bury your index finger in the middle of his chest. Your eyes squinted in anger.

“No, I want an answer. You’re always so damn evasive, it’s driving me crazy”, you demanded.

The atmosphere suddenly shifted as you looked into his eyes. Joel was staring at you angrily ― no, hungrily? Something in the way he was holding himself back sent an exciting shudder down your spine.

“No, darlin’, you are driving me crazy”.

Everything happened too quickly ― Joel’s hand held your chin up as he lowered his mouth. Your lips were slightly parted, already inviting him in. He found no resistance from you as he licked your bottom lip before going in with the full force of his desire. You buried one hand in the hair of his neck, clenching your fingers and pulling softly.

Joel thought he was going to die right there and then. He could not think straight, not when you were so melting in his arms. His senses went haywire the moment he got hit with your scent. Lavander and cinnamon, he thought. He gripped your hip with his free hand, pushing you into him. The kiss turned wetter and hotter, his mind spiralling out of control. You tasted sweet, exactly what he had imagined.

He probably shouldn’t be doing this but couldn’t refrain himself. You had pushed his buttons and now he was too far gone. He had desired you for a while but didn’t want to complicate the situation. The world was going to shit, so there was no point in looking for a bit of hope in the middle of such madness.

He groaned into your mouth when you placed your free hand on the buckle of his belt, holding onto it as if your life depended on it. You pulled from the buckle, his bulge pressing against you. You smiled, satisfied you were not the only one severely affected by the kiss. You could feel the heat rising up in your body.

And as quickly as it started, it ended.

“Guys! Where are you?”, Tommy’s words were carried by the wind.

Joel broke off the embrace so fast you almost fell but was able to steady yourself in time.

“Joel, I―”.

“Not a word”, he cut you off, his voice deep, his eyes drilling into yours with intensity. There was a dark warning tone in his voice that you couldn't ignore. “Over here, Tommy, we’re filling up the bottles”.

A few seconds later, the younger Miller appeared in sight.

“Ah, there you guys are. I found a cave where we could spend the night”. He looked at his brother for a moment, brows wrinkling. “You okay, Joel?”.

“Mhmm, all good. Give me your bottle”.

[radioactivewisdom]

The village cannot coexist alongside the nuclear family. Women often talk about how lonely being a wife and mother is, but that’s exactly the point. Isolation IS the purpose. Seclude two emotionally disturbed adults who will then groom their own children into being just like them. Parents are the first to snap at you “don’t tell me how to raise my kids!” Okay, then don’t expect me to help because all you really want is a free babysitter, and not just for the kids.

Single and childfree women face the most pressure to “help” families. In other words, be the heterosexually inspired breeding programs clean up crew. When mommy and daddy need to blow off steam they get to berate you. Legitimate involvement from villagers begins before children get here. They’d get to say “you’re in an unhealthy relationship and have no business bringing children into it” or “you’re already overwhelmed with one, don’t get pregnant again.” How well do you think that will go over? Even more so, you need to contribute more than having offspring. When was the last time a complaining set of parents cooked dinner for their aging neighbor? What about driving a sick coworker to a doctor’s appointment?

People, especially women are known for abandoning all others the moment they catch feelings. Once it’s legally binding and babies are born, you hardly see them again. This is yet another ploy to extract emotional labor from women. Which apparently is a major problem due to patriarchy, except when women do it to each other. The way coupled women feel as if they’re unappreciated and taken advantage of, is a single woman’s reality on all fronts. This world is already set up to benefit the nuclear family. Tax brakes and social validation aren’t enough. They should be able to have as many children as they want, regardless of the circumstances, and never struggle a day in their lives.

Raising children is hard when doing so on a planet filled to capacity with dumb degenerates, but whose fault is that? Generation after generation have done the same, have sex and reproduce without abandon, then scream about the consequences. The world is a scary place for children because of the families they’re born into. I’m not going to pitch in so a spineless mother can sign her daughter up for the same fate.

Family life is going exactly as planned, your happiness is supposed to come from filling a quota. Any other expectations came from your imagination. Marriage and reproduction have never been about romance and love. It’s about keeping up the flow of new bodies for political purposes, aka, natalism. If mommy and daddy need help, they can go to those just like themselves. Too bad the mythos of selflessness after parenthood is inaccurate, and they’d rather pop out another kid than help one that isn’t theirs.

All family units are out for themselves first, they admit this. They’re all after our planets limited resources and don’t seem to keen on sharing. Otherwise they’d already be attempting communal living and offering their help to each other free of cost. Why not split up the domestic duties equally instead of wasting time chastising women who freed themselves? If you want my help it’s going to come in the form of honesty. Until then, keep holding each other hostage under the guise of “family.” We all know what happened to women in the past who didn’t comply. The village serves one purpose, control.

[scaralvr]

test me. scaramouche x immortal!gn!reader contains :: religious themes, angst, 3.3 archon quest spoilers

synopsis: you have been scaramouche's faithful & loyal assistant since he was graced with the title of balladeer, but your acts of dedication towards his great being go unnoticed by him each time. however, you would never give up on your God. it is him you worship, not the tsaritsa. when he replaces you with haypasia, you refuse to live without another to serve under.

notes :: songfic based off of melanie martinez's song test me! i haven't written in awhile so it may be a little rusty :')

at first, you weren't quite sure what to think of the almighty sixth you would serve for the rest of your life as a fatui recruit. bearing a cryo vision, you found no use for the doctor's delusions, but the sixth himself requested you use one, for whatever reason you aren't aware of. the sixth of the eleven had a temper that you didn't mind, but still didn't deem his behaviour tolerable. he acts like a brat, expecting everything to be handed to him on a silver platter by his pathetic inferiors.

it sickens you to the core. how could you serve someone as cruel and disgusting as him? questions like these flood your mind but a specific one stands out from the rest. why do you serve him? with such joy and enthusiasm, too. you're fully aware that the other fatui have been stirring up some trouble with scandalous rumors they spread around, fixating on how insane you must be to enjoy working under the balladeer's orders.

you're not deranged. a little eccentric, scaramouche would say. he doesn't mind your passion as his assistant, if anything, he prefers to have someone like this rather than a timid and quiet person who has to be told twice to finish things up. you don't even talk his ear off but instead, abide by every single demand of his and choose to stay silent when he says to. he calls you a, 'smart one,' considering the fact that his past assistants had to face the consequences you were avoiding.

you found the happiness you rarely had in serving him, enjoying the way he sadistically looks into nothing while going on and on about his sinister plans to overpower his creator through his birth of a God. he'd been planning this for quite a while and you were there through all of it. you stole for him, risked your life for him, took lives for him, and what did you get in return after years of your service? your knees feel weak and you suppose it's from kneeling to him all of the time.

they grow even weaker and the breath is knocked out of your throat at his words. "your assistance was tolerable and i'll be dismissing you. this is where your job ends, (y/n)." his words pound at your head and repeat like a broken loop, reminding you over and over that you're not needed. the God that you love and cherish is abandoning his divine angel. his fallen angel. you don't know why, but tears spring to your eyes as you step forward with a hand against your chest. you open your mouth to speak in a small voice, "but, my lord, i'm afraid you do need me. who will come along with you on your way through your journey of Godhood?"

scaramouche doesn't spare you a single glance and chooses to look out the window. "a researcher i've come across in sumeru has proven her worth to me. and don't get me twisted, you have proven your worth as well. she is... simply better in terms of everything and if you can't handle that truth, i don't care. do as i say, since you worship me so much," a wide smirk stretches his lips and you catch sight of it in the reflection of the glass window. the light in your eyes go out in sorrow as you percieve the fact that your God replaced you.

hey, God, i'll be the jester. entertain you, to the best of, my ability.

you wander sumeru with a blank expression, still registering the moments that previously occured. you cut ties with your family and loved ones for him and going back there wouldn't do you any good, as they've already deemed you as scum for joining the fatui all those years ago. your immortal state makes it worse, since you figure living without a purpose is much worse than death itself. while walking with your head down, your shoulder hits something. a person. you turn your head and your eyes meet those of a dashing gold. a fairly handsome man with long blonde hair tied in a braid appears astounded. not too far, a fairy with white hair floats next to him.

"sorry, i wasn't looking where i was going."

at that pathetic apology, you narrow your eyes. what type of person puts the blame on themself when they know very well it's the other's fault? curious, you place a hand on your hip and comment, "your attire... it's not from here. may i question you?" the fairy excitedly claps her hands, "oh, we were about to question you, actually!" you raise a brow, "really? whatever for?" the man kindly smiles and explains the situation to you in a tone like he's known you forever. scaramouche has known you forever. he's never shown such kindness like that to you.

you have no one to serve. no one to follow. all of your sacrifices were a waste, for the very man you put everything on the line for, threw you away like a worthless piece of trash. as you listen to the voice of the mysterious traveler, you feel a hope light up within you again. maybe, just maybe, it'll be different. this time, it will. when he finishes his brief explanation, you instantly shoot your shot. "the balladeer, you say?"

in the meanwhile, scaramouche is left to his own gadgets within the solace of his temporary room. temporary, because he knows he'll be on the move again. he always will be, now that he's turned his back on her majesty, the tsaritsa, and ran away with one of her treasured gnoses. he stares out the window, just like he did a few hours ago, and realizes the time. the sun is beginning to set and usually, you would enter the room with a tray of tea for both him and you to share as he discusses his plans.

it's not too long before scaramouche remembers he already removed you from the plan. your company and assistance have brought him this far, huh? he lets out a sigh that makes him realize he was holding in his breath for quite a bit now. he places his elbow atop the window sill and rests his chin in his palm. it's gotten a little boring since you left, hasn't it? it hasn't even been a day. scaramouche grits his teeth and groans in frustration. it seems like he doesn't enjoy the feeling of being alone, either.

but it's whatever! you're his faithful assistant, maybe if you put some thought into that robotic and tiny brain of yours, you'll be smart enough to come back because both you and scaramouche know you could never survive without him. yeah, you'll be back. the moon rises in the sky and scaramouche tightens his clutch on the wood of the sill. you'll definitely be back...

when i suffer, more fragility, when i answer. came here for a reason.

for the next few days, you spend it with aether and his friend, paimon. he easily opened up to you about his lost sister and the nations he previously went to in hopes of finding her but to no avail. you pity the poor male and choose to make his time in sumeru more enjoyable before he goes off to confront the balladeer. ah, it wasn't too hard to tell him that you're the balladeer's assistant. paimon was a little jumpy at first, but he, he was understanding... someone worthy of worshipping.

bit by bit, scaramouche can feel himself breaking. every little thing irritates him. the sound of the wind's harsh currents, the feeling of something rough against the supple skin of his hand, the crippling isolation of his room. with a determined yet firm frown, he remakes a brew of green tea for the several time this week. it doesn't taste right. no matter how much sugar he adds (which he never enjoys in his tea but he's trying), he can't recreate the taste of the way you made it.

little does he know, you're making the same tea, yet it's for another man. "(y/n), this is very well-made!" aether exclaims with a grin and you feel yourself flush red. "is it?... thank you," you mutter, turning away to pour some into a tea cup for paimon. aether chuckles, "you've done alot for me and my traveling companion, (y/n). and i've been wondering about something for sometime." you notice the way he fumbles with the tea cup in his hands from the corner of your eye. "go on," you say, putting aside the tea pot and facing him. aether confidently adds, "i'd like for you to join me on my journeys, if you'll allow it. considering the way the balladeer did all of that to you-"

ah. you uncomfortably shuffle your feet in your position and paimon notices the tense situation. "h-hey, it's alright, (y/n)! aether's a really nice guy, huh? we would never do something like that to you!" paimon says, trying to lighten the mood. you let out a soft sigh, "i... thank you. will you let me think about it?" aether pauses and eagerly nods, "of course. take as much time as you need." and that's how you ended up wandering in the vast forest of sumeru. no matter which way you shift your thoughts, it always ends up drifting back to the indigo haired harbinger.

you delicately hold a sumeru rose in your hands and tilt your head to inspect the flower. suddenly, an anger rises and before you realize it, you're tightly clutching the flower, completely destroying its petals and stem altogether. you loved him. he was your everything. you guess he didn't feel the same for you. because he is a heartless, wretched and brutal — the silent time to yourself was interfered with another person's barely audible gasp. you're quick to whip around and wield your sword, finding the sharp end of it against someone's neck. scaramouche is unfazed, content, even.

"still on guard as ever," he murmurs, using his finger to guide your sword away from his throat, but the pressure of your blade creates a small slit against his flawless skin and you draw blood. you slowly withdraw your weapon as he traces his fingertip along the wound. "what has my little ex-assistant been up to as of late? i don't think you have any business in sumeru, do you?" scaramouche casually asks while impotently wiping the blood on his attire.

you knit your brows together and as much as it hurts to do so, you speak without using your usual endearment, 'my lord,' for him. "you cease to exist to me, balladeer," the way it rolls off of your tongue is foreign to him, it even surprises you. scaramouche has no time for petty feelings, but he lets them get in the way. his pupils are blown with anger as he seethes, "who do you think you are? just because i've abandoned you like the hindrance you are, it doesn't mean you get to treat me with such... inferiority!"

"but you're wrong, balladeer. i can and i will." with those words serving a final blow to his non-existent heart, you turn on your heel to find the blonde traveler with the answer to his question bound to escape your lips that used to say nothing but praises to the sixth.

just stop complaining, all have our seasons, it's not just a joke or a lesson to live through.

scaramouche watches your form disappear in the distance, only then, can he fully consume the fact that you aren't coming back unless he asks. stubborn one, aren't you? always playing hard to get. he deludes himself with this, believing that you still want to serve your one and only God. right, he's owned you from the start. he owned you the moment you agreed to be his assistant. you can't just get up and leave like that, no, your work is far from done. scaramouche agrees that it was rather trivial to dismiss you like that and he sees his mistake. why can't you understand that he needs you back?

but the cherry on top is the way you stand before his godly form, alongside the traveler. you're not supposed to be here. scaramouche is struck with shock when he sees you enter the scene with aether. the moment is swept away just as quick when he laughs. he laughs like a crazed man, hands on his stomach as he catches his breath. "oh, this is rich, (y/n)! you're so worthless, you really had to find another to serve after i ditched you. you're nothing but a weak follower and i plan on making you take that role to the grave," his tone drops to that of a condescending one and various emotions surge through his veins.

the immense adrenaline pumping through his system can't compare to the pain he feels when buer seizes his gnosis. this can't be happening. he's done so much to make it this far, only for all of it to come crashing down before him. his mother, his friend, the child, you. you've left a scar on him that he'll never forget. he hates it. you must be smirking to yourself as he falls from the large mech. he misses when you were still by his side, always smiling even when he ordered you to commit something so atrocious as murder.

he acknowledges it now. scaramouche realizes that you were there from the beginning and despite his cruel doings, he was your God. he never needed to go this far, because he was yours. what is this feeling, he wonders. well, it's too late now. scaramouche can only accept defeat, falling, until... he hits something, but it certainly isn't the ground. his eyes can barely stay open from how visibly exhausted he is yet he manages to make out a figure looking down at him. you steadily hold him in your arms and aether rushes to you. "are you sure you want to do this, (y/n)?" he queries. you nod in response, "i'll look after him."

every which way in second, there's a breakthrough.

scaramouche, now being the wanderer, loiters within sumeru with no purpose whatsoever. with no place to go or stay, he explores and occasionally helps the traveler with some of their needs. but it still hurts. even if he's occupied himself with other things, he keeps on thinking about you. it was always you. yet the searing pain makes him wail at night, recalling the way you looked at him like he was... a stranger.

"(y/n)!" for the first time in forever, he genuinely smiled. he was happy that at least, he still had you through this whole wreck. scaramouche had the guts to apologize. coming to think of it, it was a stupid thing from the beginning. he was thankful that you stayed loyal to him and still were at that time, considering the fact that you took care of him when he was unconscious. when nahida informed him of it, he couldn't be more relieved.

you turn at the exclaimation of your name and instantly back away in confusion. "aether, who is this?" your words put scaramouche's movements to a stop and his smile drops. "wh-what do you mean? traveler, what do they mean?" he hurriedly asked, voice cracking in between some words. you furrow your brows together and aether muttered, "they don't remember you,"

he felt the heaviest weight bring itself onto his chest. it's hard to breathe. that's right, he erased himself from the memories of many people, including you. how could he be so blind back then? all he needed, wanted, was someone that could stay by his side forever and love him unconditionally. he knew very well you were immortal, so he wouldn't have to worry about your lifespan. he also knew how much you worshipped him, so he wouldn't have to worry about the potential chance of betrayal, either.

why did he let such a beautiful and caring little thing like you out of his sight?

© scaralvr.

[padfootagain]

Black Dog Neighbour

Hi everyone ! Today, we’re answering a request made for my 6k followers event by @nobodyshomearchive : “hi hello lovely xxi have been hooked to your blog lately, and to say that is an understatement in all honesty. congratulations on 6k followers <33 so for your celebration can i get an enemies to lovers (ouh massive surprise 👀) with sirius black (preferably post azkaban but it's okay if you don't want to!) cause i'm literally so head over heels for that man. and i'm loving your something good series :) again, congrats and feel free to ignore the request if you don't feel like writing it/it doesn't hit your creative spot.

have a great day/night hun <;3”

Thank you so much for your request, and I hope you like this! I didn’t do post-azkaban Sirius, because he doesn’t exist in my brain. I have been in denial for so long, the Potters are living their best lives, didn’t you know?!

Anyway, still went for post-Hogwarts and post-war Sirius, simply didn’t include anything referencing to Azkaban or… anything canon compliant, to be fair. But as per usual for me when it comes to this character…

Hope you like this! Tell me what you think!

****

Pairing: Sirius Black x reader

Warnings: A small warning for an ex being an arse and showing up drunk on your doorstep (there’s nothing violent, but you do physically push him away, so heads up on that, just in case). But the rest’s cuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuute!!!

Summary: God, you hate that guy next door. Bloody annoying neighbour with his noisy motorcycle, his loud friends, his annoying laugh, his charming smile, his amazing hair, his effortless way to sport sexy leather jackets. He’s insufferable, you hate him to bits. The fact that he’s a talented wizard who can magically change into a dog to guard your door when your ex comes bothering you again will not change your first impression in the slightest, by the way. You still hate him to guts. Probably…

Word count: 4592

Sirius Black Masterlist – Main Masterlist

Sirius fucking Black.

Your neighbour, aka worst enemy, aka the person you despise the most on earth.

He is loud. He is annoyingly pretty. He is getting on your fucking nerves... again!

Of course, it is Friday night, which means that his stupid friends are over for a “boys’ night”. What a scam…

In consequence, you are currently casting sound-proofing spells all over your walls in an attempt to shush their idiotic laughs. And especially Sirius’s; his unmistakable bark-like laughter, loud and boisterous and absolutely prone to draw a grin from your face even if you don’t mean to. By Agrippa’s hat, you will soon either cut his throat or call for an auror. Or maybe you could burst into his apartment and shout into his face just so he can see how bloody annoying that is. Or kissing him to shut him up sounds like a plan, too…

You shake your head, grinning at your own genius idea. Sirius and his friends are being rudely loud again, when you have already told them a thousand times – which is to say every Friday for the last six months, since Sirius moved in the apartment next to yours – that the walls in this old building of Diagon Alley are too thin, that you can hear everything going on in Sirius’s apartment despite sound-proofing spells… and that they need to keep it down past 11pm because you have work the next day. The absolute dread of working in retails does not, by any means, spare the Wizards and Witches of this world…

You look through your apartment for the object that would make the most noise. You give a few items a try, but settle for the good old pan and spoon. Ha, what precious allies these two are, never failing you.

You add a little spell to amplify sounds – just for good measure – find some earplugs, and then proceed to bang the shit out of that pan, right by your common wall with Sirius’s apartment.

It goes on for five full minutes before you manage to catch the quietened sound of something against your door…

And sure enough, when you stop and take your earplugs out, someone is banging at your door.

“Y/N!” a voice that you easily recognize shouts. “STOP THIS FUCKING NOISE!”

You open the door wide, and have to bend to the side to avoid Sirius’s fist as it misses the door.

“Merlin! Sorry! You’re okay? I didn’t touch you, right?” Sirius asks with anger instantly replaced with worry.

“I have amazing reflexes.”

And anger is back into his dark grey eyes again...

“What the fuck are you doing in there?! Are you mental?!”

“I don’t know, Sirius. I didn’t notice anything over the cacophony of your friends shouting into my ears all night!”

His jaw clenches, and you hate yourself for noticing the trembling of the muscle there, and finding it terribly attractive…

“And you had to make all this ruckus instead of simply walking three meters to my door and nicely ask us to shut our mouths because…?”

“Because I’ve asked you dozens of times, this has been going on for fucking months, Sirius!”

He rolls his eyes, and Merlin do you want to punch him straight across the jaw… his very sharp, very pretty jaw…

“We’re just having a nice evening…”

“And I am trying to sleep!”

“It’s barely midnight!”

“I work tomorrow, you asshole!”

“Ermm… guys?”

“WHAT?!” you both exclaim, turning to face a shy-looking Remus.

“Sorry about the noise, Y/N. We’ll be more careful next time. We’ll leave for the evening.”

“You don’t have to leave…” Sirius complains, but James is already walking out, helping a drunk Peter to cross the corridor.

“It’s late, anyway. Lily’s gonna worry, I was supposed to be home twenty minutes ago,” James argues, and Sirius has to yield.

“Alright, see you on Sunday, then!” he shoots his friends a grin, and the group waves at you.

You rudely ignore them, crossing your arms before your chest. And as Sirius turns back to you, his frown is icy and he quickly matches your stance.

“You’re such a pain in my ass, Y/N…”

“And you’re a jerk.”

“Asshole.”

“You’re insufferable, you know that?”

“You’re one to talk!”

“Oh, you talk plenty enough for both of us. And loudly so!”

Before he can reply, you’ve stepped back into your apartment and slammed the door.

You hear him pestering after you for a moment, then nothing, and finally a door slamming.

Well, that went well…

You are in trouble.

Big… huge trouble.

Your ex has just stepped into your shop, and you don’t know how to react.

You didn’t break up in a horrendous way, on the contrary! He wanted the two of you to remain friends, and you simply didn’t, worried that you wouldn’t be able to get over each other if you stayed in touch. And by the look he gave you as he stepped inside your shop ten minutes ago, and the many glances he’s thrown at you since, you’re pretty sure that you were right about this.

It's not like your relationship was terrible, by any means. Josh was nice, reliable, but also… not for you. You didn’t have much in common, at the end of the day, and if his personality and looks were nice, it was hard to build a lasting relationship on… nothing. It was for the best that you called it quits.

And as if your day needed any darkening, Sirius Black chooses this very moment to step into your shop. You don’t wait for him to aim for the counter to take out a large pouch in which you have gathered all the ingredients for his friend’s monthly brew. He smiles at the sight, moves towards you. And you hate yourself for the leap your heart makes as he comes closer.

“Hi, Y/N.”

“Hi.”

It’s the first time you speak to each other since the ‘spoon and pan incident’, and you both hesitate. How are you supposed to act now? Apologise for being petty and kind of a dick? Ask for his apology for being a dick? Act like nothing happened?

“Thanks for Remus’s stuff,” Sirius says, voice quieter than usual, gentle, asking for a truce.

Outside, it’s snowing, winter claiming the streets of London, and there are little snowflakes caught in Sirius’s hair. It looks lovely.

All of a sudden, you’re longing for some eggnog, and some pumpkin pie.

His fingers are cold when they meet yours, tips brushing over your knuckles as he picks up the bag, and you hate your own heart for stammering.

“No problem. You know the drill,” you tentatively smile, while Sirius hands you some silvery Sickles.

“I would also need pearl dust, please. Here’s the amount.”

He hands you a parchment with quantities written on it, four small packages to be prepared separately.

“How many hearts do you intend to break with so many love potions?” you joke, turning around to get to work.

The brass scale is set on a small table, pushed right against the wall, behind the counter. It is an easy task for a professional like you, measuring quickly while Sirius laughs.

“No one, thankfully,” he replied.

“Oh… some Amortentia, perhaps? Trying to figure out who your crush likes?”

“No… nothing like that. It’s the properties for invisibility that I’m looking for.”

“If you plan on breaking into Gringotts, I don’t want to know.”

Again, a loud laugh. And you wish you could hold back your smile, but you can’t, the sound is too infectious for that.

You’ve forgotten that your ex is here, you’re reminded of his presence only when you turn back towards Sirius and he’s standing right behind your tall neighbour, a bag of potion ingredients in his hands.

You avert your eyes, and Sirius frowns at the sight. He glances over his shoulder, spots your ex, but says nothing. You only notice how he tightens his hold on the pouch.

“Pearl dust’s quite expensive,” you tell him, handing him the phials, before announcing the price.

“That’s alright.”

He hands you the galleons, takes the vials, but doesn’t step away just yet.

“You… you’re okay?” he asks, and you’re not sure what to do with his expression. It’s somewhere between annoyance and genuine concern.

“Yeah, sure.”

He nods, like he’s disappointed. He’s not bringing up The Incident, and so you won’t either.

“Right, good day.”

He turns in a hurry, not waiting for your answer, but you notice the way he throws a look back before stepping out into the street, snow falling over his dark coat and dark hair again. You hate how your eyes linger on his frame until he’s out of sight, walking down the busy street, but you can’t help it…

“Hello, Y/N.”

You’re brought back to Earth as your ex speaks, and you turn to him, your smile turning from genuine to polite.

“Hi, Josh.”

“How are you?”

“Good! Do you need anything else?” you ask, pointing at the ingredients he’s put on the counter.

“Huh… no, nothing else.”

“That makes two Galleons, 5 Sickles and 3 Knuts, please.”

He hands you some money, and you hand him his change. You see him hesitating, before diving.

“Look, I… I came here hoping to see you.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, I… I’ve been meaning to tell you. I’ve been thinking a lot lately, about what happened, and… Look, I know I could have done better when it came to us. And I thought… perhaps… if you were willing to give me another chance…”

“Josh…”

“Just… hear me out...”

“No. I’m sorry, but no. We… we were not compatible, that’s all. I like you, you’re nice, but… It won’t work between us.”

Slowly, he nodded, apparently defeated. And when another client cleared their throat behind him, he finally left.

What a mess of a morning…

It is Friday night, and the Marauders are keeping it down. You are surprised by it, but you can only praise these men for being, for once, well-behaved. 11:30, as you slip under the covers, ready for some well-deserved rest before waking up too early to open the shop in the morning. You are ready to fall into Morpheus’s arms and abandon yourself to slumber when someone knocks on your door.

You ignore the sound for a while, but it starts again, and again…

And you thought Sirius was making some efforts. You were ready to commit murder…

You stand up, grab a bathrobe and walk to the door, ready to throw hands with Sirius at this point. Only… only, when you actually open the door, it’s not Sirius who’s facing your wrath.

It’s Josh.

“What… What are you doing here?” you ask, too stunned to think about being polite. “It’s almost midnight.”

But then he looks up at you, and you notice at once that he’s been drinking. His eyes are glimmering, he sways slightly before finding back his balance…

“Josh…”

“Y/N, I… I know that now is not the time, but… please, give me another chance. Please…”

“Josh, we’ve talked about this. Us… it’s over. We’re not getting back together. I’m sorry.”

“But I can try and be better. I’ll be better, let me show you.”

You push him off when he staggers forward, trying to hold you.

“Josh! Stop it!” you raise your voice, trying to get him to let go.

“Please…”

“I said no! Get off!”

He’s finally letting go, but doesn’t take a step back. Instead, he leans against your doorframe, not stepping inside, but making it impossible for you to simply go back in and close the door.

“Josh! Go away! I’m sorry, but this is over between us. You have to leave me alone!”

“But I don’t want to! Y/N!”

“Hey!”

You’re both distracted by the new voice that comes shouting through the corridor. Sirius is standing before his front door, wearing a Queen t-shirt and some dark sweatpants, in what you guess his is nightly outfit. Still, when he comes nearer, hair tied in a bun, glowering, he looks intimidating, tattoos all over his arms on full display, traces of ink peeking above the collar of his t-shirt.

You think for a second that he’s going to make a scene because of how noisy you are right now, not ironic at all given his habits of messing your sleeping schedule, and you’re ready to get angry at him, because this truly is the last thing you need tonight, when…

“You leave her the fuck alone!”

You’re too stunned to react when Sirius comes to stand right by your side.

“She told you to fuck off, so you fuck off!”

“Who the fuck are you?” Josh replied, words a little slurred.

“Her boyfriend,” Sirius lies, but it works wonders, as Josh becomes suddenly very pale. “Now, you fuck off, or I’ll throw you out of the building.”

“You? With him?” Josh asks as he turns to you, and you feel pity for the pain in his eyes, but you don’t regret leaving him.

“Yeah. He’s my boyfriend. Now, please, Josh… leave me alone.”

But he shakes his head.

“I can’t. I can’t. I still love you…”

Sirius looks at you, but you shake your head.

“You have to leave me alone and move on.”

“No… I… I’ll come back later…”

Sirius notices your worry, it almost looks like fear, and he doesn’t hesitate when he grabs Josh by the collar.

“You listen to me now, dickhead,” Sirius growls, it’s almost animalistic, and you’re frozen by this threatening tone of his. “If you set a foot in this building again, if you go see her at her shop, if you so much as breathe in her direction or step in the street she’s in, I will come for you, and I will make sure you can never bother her again. Do you get that?”

“You’re bluffing.”

Sirius grins, something twisted and terribly dark, and even you shiver when he speaks again, voice low and terrible.

“I fought for the Order during the war. I’m a Black. Trust me, you don’t want to fuck with me.”

Slowly, Josh nods, struggling to swallow.

“So… will you leave her alone?”

Again, Josh nods.

“Good boy. Now get the fuck out of here.”

He’s barely released Josh that he’s sprinting down the stairs, stumbling and catching himself against the wall, before disappearing.

But you don’t see that. You’re staring at Sirius, and seem unable to look away.

“You’re alright?”

You’re startled by the softness Sirius’s voice is now wearing, such a stark contrast with the threatening tone he wore a minute ago.

“Y/N? You’re okay? He didn’t hurt you, right?”

“What? No… no, I’m fine! He just… showed up and I couldn’t get rid of him.”

“Yeah, I figured.”

“Thank you,” you whisper as he gets closer.

“You’re sure you’re alright?”

“Yeah, just… a little shaken, I think.”

Slowly, Sirius nods.

“Hey, no need to worry, okay? I’ll keep an eye out tonight. He won’t bother you again. And if he does, in the coming days or weeks, and I’m not around, then you come and tell me. I’ll give him a good fright, and he’ll leave you alone.”

“Thanks but… why would you do that for me? You hate me.”

Sirius chuckles at that, raising an eyebrow.

“I don’t hate you. You’re annoying, but I don’t hate you.”

“Oh…”

His touch is infinitely gentle when he rests his hand on your arm.

“You can go back to sleep. Don’t worry, he won’t bother you again tonight. I promise.”

Slowly, you nod, a little too stunned to complain or argue or discuss what has just happened. Instead, you walk back to your apartment, lock the door, and go back to bed, thinking about the way Sirius’s hands looked gentle without his rings…

You’re in a hurry this morning. Your brain has not finished to process everything that has happened last night, but this will have to wait. You must rush to the shop, and you can’t find your bloody wand…

Ha! There! What is it doing under the couch? Never mind, you need to hurry, and you need to hurry now!

Only, when you open the front door, you almost trip onto a large black door sleeping on your threshold. A huge black dog, as a matter of fact.

“What in Merlin’s beard…?!”

His ears perk up at the sound of your voice, and he looks up at you with dark grey eyes that remind you of someone…

But it’s impossible, of course. That must be his dog, though. Since when does Sirius has a dog though?!

The animal slowly stands, a real giant, all dark fur and intimidating growls, until he’s shaken some sleep off its frame, and then he looks up at you, as if expecting a command.

“Hi,” you say, feeling foolish, but finding nothing better to say.

The dog merely comes closer, slowly, ears down in submission, as if he’s worried to scare you away. You hold out your hand, and he hurries to rub his snout into it, licking your fingers.

You giggle at the sensation.

“You look intimidating, but you’re a good boy, aren’t you?”

He barks in agreement, and you give him scratches as a reward.

“Who do you belong to, huh? Are you Sirius’s dog?”

The dog merely licks your fingers again.

“You look the part, at least. You fit the motorcycle-and-leather-jackets aesthetic.”

A few scratches more, and you finally remember that you are running late…

“Shoot!”

You lock the door, hurry towards the stairs. But you stop the dog when he tries to follow.

“No, no, no! I’m going to work, you stay here. I’m sure Sirius will be back soon. You stay here.”

The dog blinks, but sits anyway, letting you go.

For the whole trip to the store, you wonder who this dog belongs to, and who would let him sleep outside like this. If he really did belong to Sirius, he would hear about this…

Your day is a weird one.

After arriving almost late, but not quite, you spend your morning being busy and running around the store looking for the right ingredients for various potions and clients. And yet, several times during your shift, you feel someone looking at you.

The first time, it’s Sirius, who’s squinting on the other side of the glass door. He looks away the second your eyes land on him, and you’re almost certain that he blushes, although you didn’t think it to be possible to make Sirius Black blush.

The second time, it’s the black dog again, who remains sitting by the door under the falling snow for about ten minutes before leaving.

The third time, it’s the dog again, you see him being petted by a customer as she walks out of the shop.

But if the dog belongs to Sirius, then you guess that he’s been around several times throughout the day, which seems odd. Also, you want to chastise him for leaving the animal alone in the cold for extended periods of time throughout the day. Is he heartless?!

So, as you go home that night, you leave your coat in your apartment before heading to Sirius’s.

He answers on the second knock.

“Oh! Hi, Y/N!” he grins a welcome at you. “Need anything?”

“Yeah… I wanted to talk to you, if you have a minute.”

He merely nods, moving to let you inside.

You’ve been here a couple of times before, but you still appreciate the warm atmosphere of the large space that forms his living room. A huge Gryffindor flag is hung across the wall on the right, while windows let you see falling snow over the roofs of Diagon Alley on the opposite side of the room. A large chimney surrounded by comfortable armchairs and sofas, along with a soft red carpet seem to call for you.

“So? What can I do for you, Y/N?”

You turn to him again while he points at the sofa, silently inviting you to sit, but you remain standing. You cross your arms, and he frowns at the sight.

“Where’s your dog?”

Your tone is sharper now, and his frown only deepens, brows knitted together.

“My what?”

“Your dog. Huge. Black. Looks like he could bite my throat off.”

“I don’t have a dog.”

“Really? He’s been following me around all day. He was on my threshold this morning…”

“…Y/N…” he tries to interrupt you, but you don’t let him.

“No! Listen… Thank you for what you did last night. I was really… Thank you. Josh wouldn’t leave and you were most definitely helpful. But let’s be clear, I’m a big girl, and I can take care of myself! I don’t need your protection or anything, got it?”

You wonder why he’s smiling now, but he is all the same.

“Got it. Was just trying to be helpful.”

“You were.”

“Good.”

“Good. But your good action doesn’t mean that I’m going to accept any harm coming to this cute dog of yours!”

“I thought he wanted to bite your throat off.”

“He looked like he could. He was pretty sweet, though.”

“Hmmm…”

“Anyway… what’s wrong with you!? Leaving him outside all night and then in the street while it was snowing!?”

“Y/N, relax. I don’t have a dog, let me explain.”

“Then whose dog is it? Cause we have to find his owner, I’m going to throw hands!”

Sirius laughs, his usual, bark-like laugh, and your puzzled by the sound. It resembles a bark even more than usual.

Sirius heaves a sigh, shakes his head, apparently hesitating, but eventually, he takes a step closer.

“You have to promise me that you won’t tell anyone about this.”

“Why?”

“Because if you do, I might be arrested.”

Your eyes grow round.

Oh dear… the…

“…Potion. The potion! You’ve done something illegal with it!”

Sirius laughs again.

“The pearl dust you mean? It’s just a trick for my godson, for Christmas. How do you think the presents get under the tree without anyone carrying them in? The fellow is a rascal, standing watch all night to catch Santa red-handed. We need to get more and more creative each year. No, don’t worry, it’s nothing like that.”

“Oh… but then… what are you talking about?”

“Do you promise that you won’t tell?”

“Have you killed someone?”

“Of course not!”

“I don’t know, you were pretty… scary last night.”

“Did I scare you?”

“No… but Josh was ready to faint.”

He laughs again at that.

“I haven’t harmed anyone.”

“Okay… then, I promise.”

Sirius hesitates some more, before warning you not to freak out. You don’t have time to question him though, he’s already transforming into…

“… the black dog!”

You gasp at the sight, but you don’t back away when Sirius approaches under his animagus form. Instead, you reach out for him, giving him a few scratches between his ears, making him wiggle his tail happily.

“Oh wow… you’re an animagus! This is beautiful…”

He laughs as he changes back into human, the sound still somewhere close to a growl.

“Am I a good boy, then?” he teases, making you laugh. “No need to call for the animal welfare…”

“But… what were you doing around the shop today? And last night? Did you sleep on the porch?”

Sirius averts his eyes, and you have to double-check, but you’re certain that he is blushing right now.

“Ha, that… I didn’t mean to look like a creep or anything. But I… I was worried your ex would come back. Just wanted to check on you, ‘s all. I didn’t follow you around or anything! I just… went to check that you were alright at the shop a few times.”

“Why?”

He looks up at you with a slight frown, as if it is obvious, as if you’re stupid for not guessing.

“Because… I was worried about you.”

“About me?”

“Is it so surprising?”

“You hate me.”

“Again, I don’t hate you. You’re simply annoying the shit out of me. I like it, actually.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh.”

You blink, trying to make sense of all this, and Sirius looks at you with amusement.

“Is that why you were quiet last night? To not bother me?”

“Oh, the boys weren’t here. Busy week. We’ll be back at being insufferable next Friday.”

You roll your eyes at that, but Sirius laughs.

“I’m joking! I understand, okay? We’re too loud. We’ll keep it down from now on.”

“Right, okay…”

He bit his lip, ran a hand through his hair, in what you guess is shyness. God, you would have never thought to use this adjective to describe him. His rings catch the warm light of the fire burning in the hearth as he moves his fingers through his hair.

“Look, I… I’m sorry for the other night. Actually… for all the other nights. We’ll be more careful next time,” he says, and you raise an eyebrow in surprise.

You never thought you would hear an apology from him, even less so an earnest one, and yet…

“Thank you, Sirius. I’m sorry, too. It was petty and uncalled for.”

“No, you… you were right.”

He heaves a frustrated sigh, runs a hand through his long dark curls again, rebel strands falling before his eyes. You hold tightly onto the sleeve of your hoodie, refraining the sudden urge to push the curls away from his face, brush them behind his ear…

“Look, I… I don’t want us to be on bad terms,” Sirius goes on. “Could I make up for being a dickhead by buying you some fancy Christmas drink? My treat. As a token of good faith and a sign for peace in our building?”

He offers you his open palm, and you shake hands with a smile adorning both of your faces.

“Deal.”

“Any afternoon free this week?”

“Wednesday?”

“Then, I’ll buy you the fanciest cocoa I can find. And even some pumpkin pie, if you’re nice.”

“Sounds good.”

You’re reluctant to pull away but have to let go of his hand.

“Actually… scratch that,” Sirius shakes his head. “Would you go on a date with me?”

Your eyes grow round.

“A date? With you?”

“Yeah. On Wednesday?”

“But… with you?”

“Don’t act so surprised. You really think I play bodyguard for just anybody?”

You laugh at that, you can’t help it, even if you’re still quite stunned by the whole situation.

You weight your options, but then you look at him again, and the answer you want to give is obvious, even if he gets on your nerves all the bloody time…

“Okay. A date. On Wednesday.”

He grins, bright and infectious.

“Great! Awesome!”

“Great.”

“Great.”

You remain staring at each other for a moment, both of you trying to hide your excitement, until you finally clear your throat.

“I should…” you begin, pointing at the door.

“Sure… busy day?”

“You can’t imagine.”

“Hmm…”

You hurry towards the door, feeling overwhelmed by his nearness.

“See you on Wednesday then!” he calls after you as you reach for your own door.

“Sure! But it better be the best hot chocolate I’ve drunk, or I’ll ask for a refund!”

He laughs, and when you turn one last time towards him, Sirius is leaning against his doorframe, staring at you with a grin on his lips and mischief painted all over his features. He winks, and your heart skips several beats.

“Oh, don’t worry. You won’t regret this.”

*********************************

Taglist :

@reg-arcturus-black @hells-escapees @omgrachwrites

@wolfmoonmusic

[gay-dorito-dust]

For Aegon

❛ what, am i not allowed to look at you? ❜

You could feel him staring at you; No, you could see him staring at you from the corner of your eye as you skimmed the paragraphs of your book under the guise of ‘reading.’ So much so that whenever you braved to glance at Aegon, who only seem to thrive in being caught as he continued his blatant staring with absolutely zero shame as a smirk growing across his lips and a glimmer in his lilac eyes. You didn’t know whether you should laugh or cry out of disbelief at his lack of digression. It never ceases to baffles you how shameless Aegon could be, even within the eye of the public he would have the misfortune to rule. His words not yours.

“you seem to have developed a staring problem as of late, my prince.” You said without taking your eyes off of the book in your lap, despite your desire to read had long since became a thing of the past, “And more so then not that staring has been aimed at me for most of the time.” You didn’t even have to look up to know that his smirk had widened across his face for Aegon was a simple book to read, even a child could do it. “What? Am I not allowed to look at you now?” He asked amused, you didn’t reply. “If my staring causes you were so much discomfort, then why haven’t you voiced your displeasure?” Aegon gauges your silence as a means to continue voicing his thoughts. “Or perhaps, if I’m right in assuming, you actually like it.”

You snorted, closing the book and placing it beside you as you looked over to address Aegon, only to find that he has moved himself closer to you as he leant against the Weirwood tree, arms and ankles crossed over one another. Had he always been so quiet on his feet? “Don’t flatter yourself Aegon, I’m probably not the only one you’ve been staring at.” You mentioned matter of factly, recalling the times where his lusty lilac eyes lingered elsewhere as you fought against the feeling of jealously building within your throat. You didn’t know why you were feeling this way, Aegon didn’t seem the type of man to willingly commit to anyone and you seemingly detested his depravity and uncouth ways at every turn.

However you didn’t catch onto the brief flicker of sadness within Aegon’s expression when you turned back to attend to your abandoned book. “If it brings you any reassurance but my eyes have never looked at another the way they looked at you.” He starts as he brought himself down to sit next to you beneath the bloody eyed tree with crimson leaves, testing the waters by grasping your hand in his as he took note of how you froze momentarily as though to compose yourself before falling into a sense of ease that still held onto that little bit of tension. “They may look to others in lust but to you, they’ve looked at you with nothing but admiration, comfort and above all, love.” Your body stiffen at the word but your eyes were peaked with interest as a warm sensation began to flood your chest as though you were a hearth brought aflame.

“Whether you believe my words or not, I do not care for I know my feelings to be true because whilst I may not be born into a loving environment; I still crave the things I cannot have and love is one of them if not the sole thing I crave to experience the most.” Aegon paused, feeling himself becoming overwhelmed with his own emotions that they started to form themselves into the tears that brimmed his pretty eyes. Aegon was always a pretty crier, you’ve noted. He made it look like an art form and you couldn’t help but squeeze his hand to console him into continuing. “So whenever you doubt my devoting to you, it hurts. I know why you doubt me, I understand it more then anyone because I’m the one who has to live with the consequences of my own actions.”

Aegon lays his head against your shoulder, pressing a kiss there before burying his head deeper into you as though he couldn’t get enough. His hand gripping yours tightly but not so much so that it caused you pain. “Yet here I am, laying my heart bear before you, praying to the seven in hopes that you don’t ever break it.” He finishes, too emotionally drained to remove himself away from you, not that he’d ever want to anyway; Clenching his eyes shut in waiting for your rejection, for you to smash his glass heart into a million fractures so small they looked like stardust. “Don’t pray to the Seven Aegon,” you told him softly, “for they’re the type who’d come to collect what is owed in droves. They’ll rob you blind of everything in the name of faith.”

“Then I’ll pray to you instead.” Aegon replied hastily, moving his head away from your shoulder to look at you with his bleary, bloodshot eyes as he smiled weakly. “Then you’ll have too much faith in me. I’ll let you down should I not meet your image of me every time.” You responded, resting your forehead against his, rubbing your nose gently his own. “Then don’t, let us be perfectly imperfect together until the end of our days.”

[akechi-stole-my-heart]

akechi's "i do not regret with my choices i'm rather proud" line in no more what ifs is so widely misunderstood it drives me nuts. it's a coping mechanism guys. it's a lie.*

(*that has an element of truth to it, as most of akechi's lies do.)

like. there's this trend to take the line at face value. he doesn't regret what he did for shido. he doesn't feel bad or think he did anything wrong. he has zero remorse. but you shouldn't take anything akechi says at face value, and regret and remorse are two very different things.

there's a lot to unpack here, so bear with me as i try to break it all down.

so okay, the source of this whole misunderstanding--the line in no more what ifs. i've gotten into this before in my analysis of the song, but the context of it is specifically in maruki's reality. goro is looking back on his life and thinking about where he ended up because of his choices. he's thinking, was i a fool? did i mess up? was there a better way? this line of thinking is reflected within the game itself when he explicitly says in the engine room that he wishes he met akira sooner, but that it doesn't matter what he wants because it's impossible to change what happened.

but here's the thing--that impossible wish he made in the engine room, where things were different and he and akira could be friends? it's no longer impossible. it's literally right in front of him. but it has a catch. accepting the reality of his impossible dream comes at the cost of being himself. all his choices and agency will be stolen, including the choices he made in the past that got him here. so he's left with one last choice--accept maruki's reality, give into his desires, and lose himself. or accept the choices he made for himself, and the consequences that came with them.

so, his conclusion in the song is that any what if's and regrets are pointless. he cannot afford to regret. he must be proud of what he did and who he is. goro is terrified of losing himself and being forced into becoming another puppet like he was for shido. (and notice--him acknowledging that he was a subservient puppet before, as he does on 2/2, requires that he's aware that the choices he is so apparently proud of weren't entirely his own. he was pushed there by someone else. he still blames himself for being manipulated, but a part of him knows that what he did for shido was wrong, and that he shouldn't have done it. doesn't sound like someone completely without regrets to me.) so he has to hold onto his choices and be proud of them. he can't let himself be tempted. the price he'd pay for them is far too high.

so, yeah. it's a coping mechanism. he's forced into that conclusion by his circumstances. akechi does regret where life has brought him and how he got there and the choices he's made, but regret is pointless, because he can't change the past and he can't accept maruki's future. so he chooses not to regret. people like him can't let themselves regret.

but of course, that's not all. in a post-canon world where he lives, goro isn't going to suddenly break down and be filled with remorse. because like i said, his feelings are complicated, and he still has his pride. akechi doesn't want to admit his faults or his weaknesses, and he does still think the people he targeted deserved it. so is he remorseful? yes and no. he is aware what he did was wrong, and that it was all for absolutely nothing. but he still doesn't view the world as something worthy of saving or protecting. to him people are all still inherently evil, save perhaps for akira, so what he did was both deserved and negligible, because the people he hurt were on the path of destruction regardless of him anyway.

so feeling for his victims and experiencing true remorse is going to be a process of recovery. at the same time, akechi still has the innocent child who wanted to be a hero hidden inside him. part of him does care, it's just been so neglected he isn't aware of it most of the time. that part of him began to be reawakened with akira and would continue to be as he makes connections, especially with the people he hurt like the phantom thieves.

which is part of why i think akechi befriending and reconciling with the thieves is so important! he needs to face the consequences of his actions and realize what he did didn't just hurt evil people, but innocents too. he needs to learn to see people as beings who can change, who are redeemable and are good. that people can love him even if he's done horrible things. and as he realizes these things about himself, he will eventually start to realize that it's true about the rest of the world, too.

goro wants to believe in the world, and in people. he doesn't anymore, but he wants to. when he starts to believe in people again, that's when he'll be able to finally be honest about his past mistakes, and feel true remorse for his actions and mistakes, and be able to start to make amends. the parts of the detective prince that reflected the little boy who believed in truth and justice are still in him somewhere, he just needs a lot of time, self reflection, recovery, and help to rediscover those parts of himself.

another aspect of this is how akechi voluntarily turns himself in. i do think there are ulterior motives here, mainly that he can be the one to help convict shido. it's also self-destructive, a way to sort of end his life when literally doing that didn't work. it's the path of least resistance, where he never has to truly look back on his crimes and self reflect because well, he's paying for his crimes anyway, so who cares. it's the easy out. but it also shows that he is aware what he did was wrong and that it's right for him to try to make amends. goro isn't totally without remorse or regret. his remorse and regret literally pushed him into trying to kill himself. he's just very, very bad at coping with them, and so chooses instead to repress those emotions like he has been for years.

okay, so, conclusion. stop forcing in lines in comics and fic where akechi is like "I don't regret!" without also portraying the nuance lying beneath that line. how in third sem it's a coping mechanism, and otherwise it's a shield keeping him from being honest with himself about his past and his ruined dreams of being a hero. remorse ≠ regret, and goro feels both but to different extents and different reasons. he hates his victims, but he's deluding himself about their guilt, and once that delusion crashes down and he sees that he's hurt innocents, he's going to have to deal with a lot of intense feelings like his already existing self hatred.

akechi isn't some heartless killer who feels nothing for his victims. he's only using that idea of himself as a coping mechanism. he forced himself to become that by repressing the parts of him that care until he can barely feel them anymore. he isn't just the black mask, he is also the detective prince. he's both. akechi is and always will be both sides of himself, even when he tries so hard to shut one of those sides down and ignore it as an aspect of the truth. you can't write akechi well until you understand that. akechi is always both.

so, does akechi regret? well...it's complicated.

[percervall]

Mamma mia, here I go again {pt5}

Summary: A summer of poor decisions leads you to having to face the consequences of your actions —and the men involved. Pairing: Kevin Magnussen x fem!reader, Lewis Hamilton x fem!reader, Mark Webber x fem!reader Warnings: talk of pregnancy, mentions of a past relationship, Mark being a dick Word count: 2.5k Taglist: @ashy-kit @averagef1fansblog @barcelonaloverf1life @bradfordbantams @dannyramirezwife-simpaccount @doofenshmirtzevil-inc @exotic-iris13 @goldsainz @iloveneteyam @jaypreshpresh @laura-naruto-fan1998 @monzamash @norrisleclercf1 @opheliaas-stuff @roseseraj @szobosz @vellicora

Part 5 of the Mamma Mia series

Despite the fact that you had just had the summer break, not having a race weekend after Monza comes as a welcome breather. It allows you to catch up on tasks you had been neglecting. You finally managed to clean your flat and had just finished the last load of laundry that morning. It also allowed you time to finally schedule an appointment with a clinic to get a scan done. It had felt surreal, getting the black and white confirmation of the pregnancy. You’re still not sure if having a baby is the smartest move right now, but the relief you felt when you saw that the pregnancy was where it’s supposed to be and the heartbeat left you feeling even more confused about the whole situation. Trying your hardest to push all of that to the side, you change into your workout clothes and roll out your yoga mat. At this point you just need 15 minutes of not thinking about anything and you had found yoga to be a great help. As you centre yourself, focussing on your body and breathing through the poses, you begin to feel calmer. Taking another deep breath, you move into the next pose. The calm energy is rudely interrupted by your phone ringing. For a second you consider just letting it go to voicemail but the sound of the phone buzzing on the table is too much of a distraction to ignore. Huffing in annoyance, you get up from the floor.

“Hello?” 

“Hello to you too, sweetheart. Am I interrupting something?” 

“Yes, my workout,” you retort, rolling your eyes at Mark’s tone.

“Mm, if you need a hand let me know,” he says and you can just picture the look on his face. Smug son of a bitch.

“For fuck’s sake..” you mutter, “Get to the point or I’m hanging up.” 

“Oh sweetheart, I’m only teasing.” 

“Mark, I’m not doing this. Again, get to the point or I will hang up,” you reply.

“RIght, yes. I’m in your neck of the woods this week for some meetings and I was wondering whether you’d like to come over for dinner on Thursday? I know typically you’d take a girl out on a date, but I think there’s a few things that have gone left unsaid for far too long.” 

“I-.. I’d like that very much, Mark.” Despite his constant flirting, you’re grateful that he offers the both of you an opportunity to talk.

“I can pick you up if you want or you can drive so you have an out if you need it. I don’t-.. I wouldn’t want to make you uncomfortable.” You can hear the sincerity in his voice and it breaks your heart a little bit that this is what is left of the relationship you once had with him. 

“Thanks Mark, I don’t mind driving. Not because of the reasons you named, but I don’t want to inconvenience you by having to drive this way twice. Just text me the address and a time and I’ll be there.” Your phone buzzes against your face, indicating you have received a new message.

“You should have it now. Okay, I’ll let you get back to your workout.” You both say your goodbyes before hanging up. You put the phone down on the table and stare out of the windows in your living room, lost in memories. 

Mark and you met in 2012, while he still drove in Formula 1. You had just graduated university with a degree in Mathematics and Engineering, and your thesis had somehow made its way to the desk of Christian Horner. And so, there you were: 23 years old and bright eyed, using the tool you had developed for your thesis to analyse simulator data and translating that into adjustments needed to the set up of the car to extract its maximum potential. While you mainly worked on Sebastian’s side of the garage, you often bumped into Mark during race weekends, always ready with a comment that should’ve gotten him written up. Mark was everything you needed in a man at that point in your life and it felt so good to feel wanted, to feel desired. And then 2013 happened. 

You have to physically shake your head to stop going down that rabbit hole, only now noticing how hard you’re gripping the back of a chair. Exhaling deeply, you let go, flexing your fingers to get rid of the tension. Despite knowing you need to have this conversation before either of you can even think about second chances, you’re not looking forward to reliving how it all fell apart. 

+

Thursday approaches a lot faster than you had anticipated, work keeping you busy even if there wasn’t a race. Having already showered, you’re now standing in front of your wardrobe trying to decide on what to wear. The old you would have gone for something frilly and short. Mark loved seeing you in these tiny summer dresses, and you loved how his hand felt on your bare thigh, allowing him to easily slide up under your dress while you were out for team dinners and tease you mercilessly. Chewing your bottom lip, you peruse your options. Despite it being September, it’s still a balmy 22 ℃ although it will probably cool off during the course of the evening. Feeling the need to reclaim a part of you that Mark stole from you, you decide to go for a dress. Even if you no longer wear those short, cutesy dresses, you still love how dresses make you feel. There’s a femininity that you sometimes feel out of sync with because of your job. It feels empowering, dressing up in a world built for men. Your eyes fall on a recent purchase –a flowy midi length dress in a gorgeous burnt orange. Slipping it on, you brush your fingers over the soft linen fabric, admiring the way the gold buttons catch the sunlight. It’s casual enough for tonight, but it gives you that little boost of confidence that you know you will need to make it through Mark’s relentless flirting. Closing the door of your wardrobe, you slip on a pair of sandals and grab your purse before heading out. 

It turns out that Mark lives a lot closer to you than you had expected when you first looked at the address he sent you. You park the car on the paved driveway in front of the detached house in the outskirts of Oxford, taking in its grandeur. You remember Mark telling you about how his family would come over for the holidays sometimes and so the extra bedrooms make sense. As you slam your door shut, you spot Mark in the door opening.

“Hey sweetheart,” he greets you and you let him pull you into a hug.

“Hey,” you reply softly, following him inside. Mark leads you to a large open kitchen-dining space before offering you something to drink. 

“Wasn’t sure whether you’d want to eat outside or not,” Mark says as he hands you a glass.

“Might as well make the most of this warm weather,” you reply with a smile. Mark returns your smile and takes you outside through the large French doors in the kitchen. 

“Dinner’s almost ready. Please, sit. Make yourself comfortable and I’ll join you in a moment.” 

You do as he asks, taking in the landscaping from your spot on the patio. It doesn’t take long for Mark to start bringing out the dishes, refusing your help. 

“I might’ve gone a little overboard,” he admits sheepishly as he brings out the final dish. The grilled asparagus should’ve been a giveaway, but you can’t help but feel touched when Mark places a lamb roast on the table.

“I can’t believe you remembered,” you say, throat closing with tears.

“How could I forget? It’s not every day you find a pretty girl crying quietly in the corner of the garage after a race –which we won by the way– because she missed her nan’s Sunday roast. She always made lamb, right?” Mark says. You nod and try to swallow back tears.

“Thanks Mark, this-.. This means a lot to me,” you whisper. Mark smiles softly and gives your hand a squeeze. 

During dinner, the conversation mainly revolves around catching up. Mark tells you all about managing McLaren’s rookie driver and how he’s finding it to work at Channel 4 with David. You update him on your appointment, showing the little sonogram picture. 

“So everything’s okay with the baby?” he asks, an anxious look in his eyes.

“Uhu, so far so good. They estimated that I’m about 7 weeks along now.” Mark looks back down at the picture on your phone, a large finger tracing it gently as he smiles. Seeing him so enamoured by the tiny blob on the sonogram brings up a mix of emotions for you; it warms your heart to see him like this, but it also terrifies you that those feelings for him never went away and how easy it is to fall back in step with him. 

“You’d look so hot in those maternity dresses,” Mark comments, his tone flirtatious, “You always look hot in a dress. I still dream about that pink one with the hearts you wore to dinner after Silverstone. You looked so innocent in that dress, but we both knew you were anything but.” 

And then he goes and says shit like that, and it all comes tumbling down like a house of cards. 

“I no longer dress for you, Mark. You lost that privilege a long time ago,” you retort, voice even but there’s an edge to it. You remember the dress he is talking about, remember what he is referring to. Before your food even arrived at the table, Mark had dragged you into the bathroom. He had made some comment about how pretty you looked but how you’d look even prettier on your knees with your mouth wrapped around his cock, and so that’s what you did. That was how your relationship worked: Mark would make a suggestive comment and you would obey without a second thought. Of course he always made sure he took care of you; he was the one who helped you discover you could experience multiple orgasms, would always clean you up afterwards and run you a bath. But despite all this, he always took what he wanted from you first. You wish you could have protected your younger self against the heartbreak that was headed your way, against the feeling of being lost at sea after Mark left you alone in that hotel room with nothing more than the remnants of his fingerprints on your skin. After the dust had settled, you had promised yourself never again; you would never allow yourself to be in that position again. 

“I’m sorry,” Mark says, breaking you from your spiralling thoughts, “for- I’m sorry for how it all went down, how I treated you. You deserved so much better than that,” he adds, referring to the note he left you after that final race in Brazil. 

“Why did you leave me?” you ask, voice barely above a whisper. 

“Because I couldn’t drag you into my mess. You had your entire career still ahead of you while I needed to get out. That last season was a shitshow, despite the fact that Seb won the Driver’s and RedBull the Constructor’s. I was sick and tired of how the team favoured Seb. I had nothing left to give..” 

“You shut me out, I thought we were in it together.. Or was I just a means to get back at Sebastian?” It’s impossible to not sound bitter, hurt evident in your tone.

“No, Jesus, no sweetheart. You know it started out as a way to annoy him, but my feelings for you were genuine; I loved you, and in many ways still do.” Regret is written all over his face when your eyes meet his. You know your relationship back then was complicated. Of course there was the age gap –Mark is a good 13 years older than you– which somehow trickled into the bedroom where he showed you things that made your previous boyfriends look like clueless little boys by comparison. And as every naive 20-something-year-old with daddy issues would have done, you fell head over heels in love with him, giving him your heart and your body. 

“You broke a piece of me that day that I might not ever get back,” you whisper.

“And I will spend the rest of my life regretting the way I handled things. You’re right, I should’ve been open and honest with you instead of walking out on us,” Mark says, taking your hand in his.

“I’ve spent ten years avoiding you. The ghost of you haunted me in that garage and so when Mercedes called, I took it with both hands. I was a mess those first years, somehow still hoping you’d come back for me. And then it became painfully clear you weren’t and I mourned the loss of you all over again. I hated you for what you did to me, hated myself even more for ever allowing you to get close enough to hurt me, for still being in love with you despite it all. The last ten years I’ve spent building up walls so I wouldn’t have to feel like that version of me again, and look where that’s gotten me.” You laugh humorlessly, biting your lip to stop the tears from falling. “I have become the very definition of a cliche, entangled in a love square and too scared to let any of them in.” 

Before you really know what’s happening, Mark pulls you out of your seat and into his lap. Your legs dangle over the arm of the chair and you bury your face in the crook of his neck. 

“I need you to listen carefully, okay sweetheart? If anyone deserves to take the blame for what happened, it’s me. And if you’ll let me, I will spend the rest of my life showing you just how worthy of love you are. I know all three of us will. You might have a hard time letting us in right now, but baby you need to know that we’re all in if you are. You are worth waiting for.” You take a deep breath, inhaling his cologne. The scent of it helps to calm you down, it reminding you of the lazy mornings spent in bed cuddling. 

“You’re the second person to tell me that,” you mumble as you look up at him. Mark smiles, brushing away your tears with his thumb and cradles your cheek in his palm.

“Then it must be true.” 

You smile back at him, albeit timidly and snuggle into him once more. Alice’s words from a week prior echo in your head. “Keeping your heart shut like this, it’s safe but also lonely.” You’re beginning to wonder whether the cost has been far greater than the benefits of keeping romance at bay. Doing so hurt a good man; had you been able to allow Kevin in completely, you know he would have made you feel safe and loved. You also know Kevin deserves better –hell, you deserve better, but knowing and doing are two very different things, and right now you’re not sure if you’ll ever be ready for this level of love –from any of them.  

Welp, there you have it. Date no.2 🙊

Again, a massive thank you to @curiousthyme and @szobosz for being my beta readers for this chapter, and a shoutout to @monzamash for helping me with figuring out the details for this date

Please feel free to let let me know what you think; your comments, tags and likes mean the absolute world to me 💜

I'm gonna take the holidays off from posting this fic to just relax (and maybe get some more writing done, who knows?), so the last date will be posted in the new year on the 6th. Wishing you all a merry Christmas and all the best for the new year!

[bullet-prooflove]

The Necklace: Kimball Cho x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989@caitlinrosa@mcfriggingonagall@kniselle@aiko24k

Companion piece to Break

You still wear the necklace that Cho gave you. You keep it tucked under your blouse so no one else can see it. It’s a small gold medallion with a Korean character etched into the beaten surface. You developed a habit when the two of you were together, of toying with it, of rubbing your thumb over the engraving.

“It means protection.” He’d told you as he’d helped to fasten it around your neck. “I don’t believe in it but every little helps right?”

You’d caught a bullet the day before. The vest had held but it had scared the living hell out of him when he’d heard about from your partner. He’d come over to you place that night to see for himself, undressed you, loved you.

The bruising had been coming out by then, a purple blossom over the place where your heart resided. You’d fallen sleep wrapped up in his arms that night and he had stayed awake listening to the sound of your breathing, replaying how much he could have lost.

He gives you the necklace the next day because he’ll do anything to tip the odds in your favour, even something as ridiculous as a protection talisman.

It’s a year later and the two of you aren’t together anymore, you haven’t been since he ended things because it got a little too real, made him feel a little too vulnerable. He regrets that, that he chose to run when he should have stayed.

The two of you still work in the same building, different departments but he still has to live with that decision, he has to face the consequences of his actions every damn day.

Tonight it’s worse. It’s past midnight and he’s sitting at his desk finishing up reports because he doesn’t want to go back to an empty apartment when he glances up across the corridor and sees your desk light still on, your brow furrowed in concentration. A glimpse of gold captures the light and he realises your fingers are toying with the chain that’s looped around your throat. His breath catches in his throat because he realises it’s the pendant that he gave you, that you still wear it after all this time.

It gives him hope, hope that maybe one day you’ll forgive him, that he can make you understand it was never about you, it was his own demons he was contending with.

It's three in the morning when you bump into each other at the elevator, he’s finally decided to call it quits and you’re lagging, he can tell from the way you keep rubbing at your eyes. When the elevator arrives he gestures for you to step in first. The entire ride you stand beside each in silence, watching the floor numbers on the electronic panel as the elevator descends.  

It’s when you get to the parking lot that you realise the lights on the left side where you’ve parked your car are out. They’ve been having issues with flickering for a few days now.

“Let me walk you to your car.” Cho requests because he hates the thought of you alone in the dark. He’s worked too many cases that start with circumstances just like this and he won’t be one of those people you see crying on TV who say things like ‘If only…”

He expects you to fight him, to remind him you’re a trained CBI agent, one that carries a gun and teaches seminars on hand to hand combat but you don’t.

“Thank you.” You say to his immense surprise. “I’d appreciate it.”

Love Cho? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[obaex]

R A F E C A M E R O N

☼ sweet silence summary: rafe manages to say a lot to you without saying anything

☼ better start practicing summary: you see a soft and unexpected side of rafe, leading you both to confess your true feelings about the future ☼ the one that chases you (series) summary: jj makes a decision that will alter the course of your summer, driving you to figure out who you really are and who you really want.

☼ anything but you summary: when sarah and the pogues steal barry’s money, he concocts a plan to take the one thing the oldest cameron loves most to ensure he gets repaid in full.

☼ cross my heart summary: rafe disappears for the day and comes back with a big surprise

☼ see you in my nightmares summary: rafe is forced to make a decision that will alter the course of your future together, but how long can he live with the consequences of his actions?

☼ the three times duke tried to tell you something summary: rafe’s dog duke starts acting differently towards you, clearly trying to tell you something that you and rafe can’t seem to figure out on your own.

☼ untouchable summary: when a fight breaks out at midsummers, an unexpected ally reminds you who you are and whose you are

☼ reading between the lines summary: rafe tries, and fails, to tell you how he feels. or does he?

☼ island breeze + lights down low summary: rafe can't keep his eyes off of you, so he decides to do something about it

☼ (not) my girl summary: if rafe cameron is so sure he doesn't need to be seen with you at midsummers, you are more than happy to oblige (or) the time you drove rafe insane with jealousy.

☼ the blind date summary: your friends set you and rafe up on a blind date, but it doesn't go quite as you'd expected.

☼ the bet summary: two guys have their eye on you and when kiara baits you into a bet, it quickly becomes clear how your night will end.

☼ four (hockey player!ex au) summary: rafe knows he's screwed up, but when he offers you a way to make amends, you can't resist. the catch? he'll have to do the impossible.

part one part two

☼ smartwatch (drabble)

J J M A Y B A N K

☼ dying to tell you summary: after a normal beach day takes an unexpected turn, jj has something he needs to say

☼ stole the show summary: jj steals your attention during a music festival

☼ you, the ocean, and me

part one summary: jj is determined to put a smile on your face during your two week trip to the obx, but what happens when fun turns into something more? part two summary: life is picture perfect until the past comes knocking at your door, unwilling to let you go.

☼ pinch me summary: when you turn 17, your body begins to mirror anything that happens to your soulmate, but with so many marks and bruises, why is yours so hard to find?

☼ a little dirty summary: you find that watching jj work can be very… distracting

☼ lightning love summary: jj comforts you during a thunderstorm… or so you thought

☼ the bet summary: two guys have their eye on you and when kiara baits you into a bet, it quickly becomes clear how your night will end.

☼ you ruined my life (by not being mine) - coming soon! (sneak peek) summary: from the moment jj meets you, he’s determined to hate you, and when he can’t hate you, he’s determined to ignore you, and when that doesn't work and neither does forgetting you, well, what other option is there?

☼ jj comforts you when you're sick

© obaex please do not copy, plagiarize, or repost my work

[moonlight-prose]

✧ WRETCHED AND JOYFUL ✧

a/n: this was meant to be posted yesterday, but i could not for the life of me write anything. my brain was stalled and kind of broken. kinktober has really gifted me with a different kind of burnout. but in a lovely turn of events i managed to finished off two fics last night to catch up! i hope you enjoy this one.

day twenty-two - dom/sub + rough sex | kinktober 2023

summary: "he would be your end and all that came next. he’d be your consequence in a world that sought out punishment rather than forgiveness. your small slice of joy in the wretched ways of reality."

word count: 1.9k+

pairing: tommy miller x f!reader

warnings: EXPLICIT SO MINORS DNI, dom!tommy, sub!reader, breeding kink, oral (f receiving), religious trauma cause it was that kind of night, the aftereffects of listening to hozier, angst, fluff, rough sex, tommy can't shut the fuck up for the life of him but we love him for that, dirty talk, aftercare, not edited or beta read, we live and die by this fucking pen.

You always thought he’d be the one to stop your heart. The one who could bring you to the very edge of existence and push you over. A fate that had always been solidified in stone. Like the prayers that came before—the belief that had once lingered on the Earth. He would be your end and all that came next. He’d be your consequence in a world that sought out punishment rather than forgiveness.

Your small slice of joy in the wretched ways of reality.

And there you stood at the edge of it all, taking in the view, and willing to fall if he asked.

There was comfort in his promises that he often whispered to you at night. Speaking of a time where neither of you would have to suffer. Where you could live peacefully together, possibly grow together in a way you couldn’t there in the middle of nowhere. In a spot on the world where you were simply two people clinging together. All with the lingering hope that the words he spoke would one day come true.

He spoke them even now, whispering them against your skin with each kiss. The tenderness in their soft brush. His lips held you captive, stuck in the place beyond pleasure—turning you pliant beneath his touch. Eventually his lips would find yours again in the lantern lit room, but for now you allowed them to drag along your stomach, finding the patch of curls where you needed him most.

“Gonna build you a home one day,” he murmured, fingers spreading you gently. As if he was about to partake in something sacrilegious that deserved the tenderness of a sinner.

“Tommy,” you gasped, fingers delving into his curls and tugging when he sucked one of your lips into his mouth, moaning at the slight taste that spread across his tongue.

��It’ll be big and beautiful.” His tongue slid through your folds, grinning at the broken high pitched cry that echoed in the room. “Lots of room for us.”

He ate you like you were the apple fallen from the tree. Sweet enough to cause him to sin and if you were to say the word he’d do it. He’d kill for you—he had killed for you. He allowed blood to cover his palms to keep you safe in the hopes that he’d be able to worship at your altar. To taste the sweetness that emitted from your body—drinking you down as if you would heal him from his past. And perhaps you would. Tommy liked to believe that you were without even knowing it.

“Fuck,” you moaned, the sound dragged out and low when he sucked your swollen clit into his mouth.

“You taste delicious.” He’d barely gotten a taste and sounded drunk. As if he couldn’t get enough of everything you could give him—willing you to take it for him until you couldn’t anymore.

“Fuck me,” you whined, tugging at his hair. “Please Tommy. Need it baby.”

He sucked in a breath, fingers digging sharply into your thighs. “Yeah honey? You need my cock?”

Clambering to his knees, he dragged your thighs around his hips, watching in awe as the slick across his fingers spread along your skin. A shiny picture of debauchery. The breath caught in his throat, eyes darkening at the sight of you spread out beneath him—mouth open in a soft silent moan as his fingers dipping back into your slick. Swirling around your clit and causing your body to jolt.

“What if I just make you cum like this huh?” His cock twitched at the thought. “Get myself off til I’m ready to fill you up.”

Your breath hitched, heat pooling in your stomach. “I-I need—”

Grasping onto his cock, he tapped it against your clit, smiling at the sound that tore from you. “You need it baby I know.”

His other hand reached up to palm your breast, tugging at your nipple and watching in rapture as your back curved up. Pressing your body further into his touch. His head spun at the sight. Completely at his mercy and begging for more. It snapped something in his brain. Bringing forth feelings he didn’t know existed. He wanted to watch you beg, hear the sweet sounds of your need echo in the room until it burrowed in the depths of his chest.

Tommy wasn’t a cruel man. But for this…he’d take.

“You gonna beg me for it?” He slid his cock through your folds, biting back a groan at the wet heat of you. Although the words weren’t coming from your mouth, your body was indeed begging him. “C’mon honey. Use your words. Tell me what you want.”

Your eyes fluttered open, meeting the dark black of his. He was five seconds from being completely gone. Ready to fucking devour you as if you were the remedy to his need. The one thing that could satiate the hunger in his body. He wanted to hear you beg so you did exactly that. You covered his hand still on your breast and dragged it up to your throat, allowing his large palm to cover the warm skin there.

“Want you to fuck me full of your cum baby,” you breathed, face warm from the words that came from your mouth.

“Jesus,” he whispered. “You’re fuckin’ filthy aren’t ya honey?”

You nodded with a whine, hips canting up as he dragged his cock through your slick once more. “Need it.”

“Yeah baby?” He notched the head of his cock at your entrance, fingers flexing around your throat. “You need me to fuck you full? Want me to spill out of you for days?”

Before you could even get the answer out, he thrust into you smoothly. Listening to the cry that bounced off the walls around him. He felt the way your walls clamped down around his cock, dragging a low growl from his chest. A sound that you felt down to your toes. He squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for his body to calm down slightly, but there was no use.

Neither of you would last very long.

He pulled out, the tip resting at your entrance before he slammed back in. The sound of your cunt sucking him back burned up his spine. It broke the thin strand of control he had left, the ability to go slow and savor his time with you. Tommy was starving. A man whose sole purpose was to watch you break, to flood him with your pleasure.

Gripping onto your throat, his eyes met yours, teeth bared as he bit back his release and set a pace that nearly had you jolting up the bed. His cock rammed into you, the wet sounds of your slick slicing through the cold night air. Each thrust sent a mewl up your throat, your fingers digging into his forearm as he used the hold he had on your throat to pull you back on his cock. He grunted with each shift, the pool of heat in his body nearly suffocating him.

But none of that deterred him from staying silent.

“‘M gonna fuck you in our house,” he grunted, dragging your hip even higher up his hip. “Make sure we fill it.”

You gasped, eyes rolling back. The thought of Tommy wanting to fuck you so full that you had his kid rewired something in your brain. Setting your entire body alight. The need to please him overwhelmed you, body moving to meet his thrusts with small ones of your own.

“You like that huh honey.” He grinned at the way you keened for him—the head of his cock grinding against your walls. “You want that? Want to fill our house?”

“Tommy!” You scrambled for purchase along his body, nails scratching along his skin.

“Fuck,” he groaned, pounding into you until the bed began to ram against the wall. “Can feel you fuckin’ leakin’ for me. My good girl. Perfect baby.”

His thumb found your clit, hand pressing down on your throat until your body went taut. There you were at the very edge of the cliff. Willing to fall, but you couldn’t. Not until you heard the three little words that would consume your body in the flame that you longed for. He pulled you up slightly, contorting your body until you were nearly bent in half—his lips finding yours in a punishing kiss. One that stole all the breath in your lungs.

“Cum for me,” he rasped, cock dragging along your walls right where you needed, nearly kissing your cervix with each sharp thrust. “Soak my fuckin’ cock baby and I’ll give it to you.”

As if he held control over your body, you felt the dam burst. A burning pleasure flooded every one of your senses until you could barely hear the words he continued to speak. Gripping onto his curls, you kept his lips on yours, moaning when his tongue slid along yours, tasting the desire that was prominent in your mouth. He grunted roughly, his hands holding you so tight the skin would be tender, as he took his own pleasure.

Until he was just as sated as you were.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he moaned, hand moving to find yours and slam it against the mattress, fingers interlocking tightly. “You want it baby? Want my cum?”

Nodding frantically, you tightened your legs around his hips. “Fill me up Tommy. Give me all of it.”

He cried into your mouth, hips stuttering as he broke. Spurting harshly into your cunt until his head went fuzzy and body nearly gave in. He felt you reach between your body, fingers trailing through the trail on his stomach, until your fingers wrapped around the base of his cock. Massaging him gently and making sure that every drop spilled into you. That you would be full for days to come.

Kissing you messily, he felt your spit trail down your chin, eyes fluttering open in a fucked out daze—lips curving into a smile. “Thank you baby.”

His cock twitched, a punched out groan tearing from his chest. “You’re tryin’ to fuckin’ kill me,” he huffed.

You wrapped your arms around his body, letting him fully sink into your warmth with a soft hum. His lips still attached to yours. There was a tenderness there that still remained despite the rough way he broke you. A gentle piece of his soul that had survived the brutality of this world. Even though you thought yourself lost to the darkness, willing to survive as a broken shell of who you used to be. Tommy managed to bring you back to life.

He nudged his nose along yours, fingers trailing gently along your cheek before he moved. Dragging you up with him even though you still clung to his broad shoulders, a soft whine of disappointment echoing in the back of your throat.

“C’mon honey,” he said softly, leading you towards the small tub in the corner of the room. “Let’s take a bath?”

Smiling, you allowed him to prep the water, never straying from you for too long. As if he was tied to your very being, forever a part of your soul. Or perhaps he’d been there all along. Perhaps the world had been biding its time waiting to gift you with his presence. All to give you a chance at happiness once more.

To once again find the lost joy in this wretched world.

[foxgirlbeans]

A Ninja's Guide to Eorzea: Part 1

I'm currently working on my relic weapon for ninja, and that means I'm suffering I'm going into a lot of dungeons solo as a ninja. And it got me thinking about stealth. Rogues and ninjas have a Hide feature that, aside from a few job quests, usually goes completely overlooked. you can usually run from any overworld enemies, dungeons mean you have to hang out with at least two people who can't hide from enemies, and you can't even try to hide from dungeon bosses.

So the ninja sadly doesn't get many opportunities to live out the classic ninja fantasy of striking from the shadows. But by soloing a dungeon at a higher level, you can sneak from boss room to boss room for the same effect. And since I'm going through so many dungeons right now, I thought I'd write down my thoughts on how well each one lets you live out that fantasy.

1. Sastasha

This is the dungeon I'll be comparing all others to. not just because it's the first, but it's one of the best. stealing a glance at the pirate's password and breaking into their base both happen in relatively secluded areas, so you can ignore all enemies right up until the first boss.

Thing get a little hairier when you first meet the pirates, mostly because their guard dogs can see through your sneaking. Which makes a lot of sense when you think about it, right? They live right next door to the bloody Rogues Guild, obviously they'd have ways of dealing with rogues.

This only really adds one extra fight to the list- the second dog and his master are mandatory to grab a key, and the third is in a wide open area that gives you space to avoid it. if you remember it's there, unlike me.

This dungeon is the quintessential "breaking into a base" fantasy, and it plays that part beautifully with realistic threats to keep you on your toes. also it's pirates vs. ninjas which was a big to-do during the lolsorandom years.

I'm also giving it bonus points bc despite having dogs that can spot you, you can open multiple doors without the door guards ever catching wise.

look at them. morons. A+

2. The Tam-Tara Deepcroft

I'm not going to lie, this one's 100% bias speaking. The sneaking works fine, and you can get to bosses completely unmolested, it's just... almost every "boss" here is just some random guy. it doesn't really strike the right chord like Sastasha did. I'll give it a C+/B-, it's sneakable, but it doesn't feel like a ninja.

3. Copperbell Mines

This one's got plot coupons stuck in enemies up the wazoo, so it's definitely not sneaky. On top of that, the dust bunnies in this place all have tremorsense, so you can't sneak past them, and every part of the dungeon is a narrow walkway so you can't even sneak past the old fashioned way.

If that wasn't bad enough, there's multiple moments where hecatoncheirs appear out of walls, instantly breaking your stealth and forcing you into a fight. Sneaking does get you past the worst of the final room, but by then it's too little, too late. D

3. Halatali

Not gonna lie, I 100% thought this one would turn out like Copperbell Mines when I first thought about it. I've never been happier to be wrong though!

The first and third parts of the dungeon are predictably not an issue whatsoever, you sneak past the trash mobs and fight the boss, no problem. The middle portion is where things get spicy- you see, there's several winches in the area you have to pull to open the door at the end, but pulling them breaks your stealth. Further complicating things, pulling each winch has a chance to drop a monster on your head, which I just spent two paragraphs complaining about!

However, because these winches only get pulled when you want them to be, it feels more like you're disarming a trap than anything else. Waiting for the crowd of monsters around you to wander off, setting off booby traps, and dealing with the consequences actually makes the whole experience very fun. Exploring an abandoned ruin definitely falls more on the rogue side of things than ninja, but it was fun enough that I'll let it slide. B+

4. The Thousand Maws of Toto-Rak

Hard F. You have to defeat every monster in an area before you move on, so hiding here actively slows down your progress when you have to u-turn and hunt down whatever you snuck past in the first place.

5. Haukke Manor

Another dungeon that surprised me with out sneakable it is. All of the manor's keys are either located in a boss you have to kill anyway, or on the ground. this means you can sneak into rooms, nab the key from right under the monsters' noses, and sneak back out leaving them none the wiser. Adding in the patrolling succubi that just so happen to give you just enough time to grab certain keys and hide again before they turn around gives a stealth game vibe to the whole experience like in Halatali. Plus you're sneaking into a mansion to kill a corrupt noble, which is a totally ninja thing to do! Another solid B+

6. Brayflox's Longstop

I was surprised to learn Colibri can see through ninja invisibility, but I guess that explains why Captain Madison had one. The starting room has a couple you pretty much have to fight, but aside from that it doesn't do anything special. It also doesn't really fit the ninja vibe what with you fighting random wildlife, but it has fewer filler bosses and fighting a dragon is always cool, so. B-.

[narrans]

My Borrowed Son | 25 | Where Were You...

Chapter Twenty-Five | Where Were You…

Kit walked briskly through the walls, heart refusing to calm as it thundered against her ribs. Her thoughts dwelled on everything that had just happened. She was completely consumed with nothing else and relied completely on muscle memory as she traversed the beams leading back home.

What was that all about?

That kid thinks he’s a human! That Borrower kid thinks he’s a human.

He called out for her as if she was his mom.

What’s his deal?

That guy Kers was right.

This is insane.

That kid is a pet, and he doesn’t even know it. There’s no way that human woman treats him like her actual son.

Humans don’t see Borrowers as anything other than pets!

“Where were you?”

Kit stopped dead in her tracks and realized she was just outside of her home, and her brother Finnick was waiting outside for her. He was casually leaned up against the front entrance. He didn’t even try to hide the fact he was waiting for her.

Kit huffed and tried pushing past her brother, but he easily stepped in front of her and blocked the doorway.

“You went, didn’t you?” asked Finnick. The eldest Borrower brother suspected his sister would do something foolish, but he was too late to catch her or stop her from doing anything. He had tailed Kers to make sure he wasn’t going immediately to the human woman and doubled back once he was done. There was just this looming, instinctual feeling that Finnick couldn’t shake.

When he talked to his parents, they said she hadn’t come down for dinner, but she had responded when they asked if she was there.

This was hours ago.

He went to her room, hoping beyond hope that Kit didn’t do something ridiculous, and knocked on her door. The lack of response said it all. The eldest brother ducked outside and saw her window wide open and her belay thread hanging there in a challenging taunt.

With only one idea of where she went after all of these hours, Finnick knew there was nothing to be done except to wait and see what happened. There was no way he could get there in time, if he could even find out where the Borrower kid was staying down below in the human world and then find his sister on top of that.

Kit had this bad habit of doing what she thought was right regardless of the consequences, and now was one of those times.

Finnick could only hope that she was successful.

Sadly, seeing his sister storming up in a daze in absent minded frustration, Finnick knew she had failed.

This led them to their moment now as he blocked her way into their home.

“Well?” he prompted. His sister clenched her jaw and jerked her head away.

“Well what? Good for you! You caught me. Yeah, I went. Happy?” she grumbled under her breath. “Going to go tell mom and dad? Wake up the whole house so we can start moving?”

Finnick sighed and shook his head.

“No. I’ll save that privilege for you,” replied Finnick. “And the fact you don’t have him here with you means that Kers guy was telling the truth.”

“Yeah, so why don’t you rub it in my face more?” growled Kit as she tried to push past her brother. “Now, move!”

“Not before you tell me what happened. What was he like? Did he say anything?” asked Finnick. Kit folded her arms indignantly. She was shaking, though her brother couldn’t identify the sole reason as to why. Fear? Nerves? Frustration? Anger?

It didn’t matter because she decided to answer his question.

“He doesn’t know what he is, Fin. He thinks he’s human. You should’ve heard him crying out for his mom – that human. It was the weirdest thing I’ve ever see. He was living in some kind of weird doll house with wires and water all hooked up to it. It basically looked like a small human house with screens and tech all over the place. It was so weird.”

Finnick listened to his sister’s words and considered them carefully. It sounded impossible for a Borrower to slip so easily into living like a human; that is, if they lived like a Borrower at all.

Kers had said something about thinking this kid had spent most of his life living with this human. Did the human capture Parker’s parents? Did she take him away from them? Or was this actually a compassionate human taking care of an orphaned Borrower child?

Finnick sighed and stepped to the side, allowing his sister inside.

“Let’s just hope nothing comes of it. You need to tell mom and dad sometime tomorrow, and you and I will be going out first thing to make sure he doesn’t help the human tear down the house to try and find us,” said Finnick. “And if you don’t fess up, I’ll tell them in the worst way possible.”

“Goodie two shoes,” grumbled Kit under her breath as she pushed past Finnick.

The eldest Borrower child knew the family was in quite the precarious situation, but fretting in the middle of the night wasn’t going to solve the issue and they could only prepare for a reaction if anything came of it.

Who knew?

Maybe this Parker kid would think all of it was a bad dream and brush off seeing his sister.

~~~~~^*^*^*^*^~~~~~

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