#when the star and reason of bang dream

[garupagif]

BanG Dream! It's MyGO!!!!! ☆ Episode 12 | It's my go!!!!!

[houpss]

SKZ have a crush on you

you can come up with the ending yourself...whether the reader will be with the member or not is up to you!

light angst, a little fluff, uncertain relationship

Bang Chan

oh...this man talks about his feelings openly and without fear.

He literally phrases: "I'll steal and fuck your girlfriend while you're not looking."

He has a huge amount of female and male attention, but...

But it doesn't work out that way with you...

You were out of his reach.

You were too beautiful, too sweet, too good...he wasn't like that.

Chris is the one who will call you his muse and write romantic songs for you, some of which have been published.

His love is manifested in acts of care, he is always there, he is more tactile with you than with others.

He will give you whatever you want, just ask.

Chan has 8 members so he is like a dad...he protects and cares for them

And he also wants to take care of you.

He wants to love you openly.

But you didn’t notice his feelings.

Although...you loved Chris. Literally loved to the moon and back.

For some reason, it seemed to you that Chris only saw you as a friend or family member, just like his Members.

Yeah...close friends....

He will say exactly the same phrase to you:

"You came..."–"You called"

It seems you are both fools.

Maybe he's too soft with you? Maybe he needs to leave?

He won't be able to give up on you.

I will kill myself, I will destroy my soul, but I will be with you.

But i'll wait for you

I love you to the moon and back

기다려 여기 me and max

서운해해도 don't be mad

너한텐 할 수 없는 game (Bloo-But i'll wait for you)

Lee Know

How could Minho let this happen?

Lee Minho was head over heels in love with you.

No one has seen his loving eyes, no one has ever felt his gentle touch.

How did he allow himself to fall in love with you?

This is a completely crazy idea, he didn’t love to love.

But you turn his world upside down, he is literally lost in you.

You clearly feel like Minho hates you.

Minho is like cold winter, he is like snowy weather, he looks like frosty weather.

And you were in summer, you're complete opposites.

But even after the coldest winter, love comes.

He calls you the most beautiful adjectives, it’s like he’s trying to silently scream about his feelings.

He speaks directly and harshly, he loves the truth straight forward.

"And you will be obsessed with me, I will be everywhere: I will be in your favorite songs, I will be between the lines of books, I will be in every passerby... I am your addiction"

Lee Minho couldn't fall in love, but he wanted to love.

All the pretty stars shine for you, my love

Am I the girl that you dream of? (Lana Del Rey–Pretty when you cry)

Seo Changbin

He loved and hated you at the same time.

Oh.. Seo Changbin can hate?

Yes, he did it with you. He loved you so much that he hated you for it.

You were everywhere, you were ingrained in his existence and mind.

He was very sweet and friendly and loved people.

It didn’t work out that way with you, it was as if he deliberately didn’t want to have much contact with you.

He loved you silently, probably without asking for anything in return.

Before he even notices, he begins to pay attention to you... be it small acts of attention or dialogues with you.

"You can take Changbin out of first love, but not first love out of Changbin."

Again, it was like you were different, you weren’t like anyone else. He noticed you immediately when he met you.

He seems upset that you will never be his.

Oh...the boy is gloomy. The boy looks like a thunderstorm.

Conquer your lonely heart, get used to the emptiness.

When you ran your fingers over your lips

I bought it from glossy magazines

Everything you asked for and even what you didn’t ask for

How can you be so terribly beautiful? (Rocky-WITCH)

Hwang Hyunjin

Oh yes, you and Hyunjin have been friends since childhood.

It even got to the point that you are idols in the same agency. No wonder Hyunjin adores you, he's obsessed.

Fans loved your interactions, they were sure there was something between you and Hyunjin.

Hyunjin wants to get into your soul, he wants to take your heart into his cold hands.

You were the forbidden fruit, and forbidden fruit is always sweet.

It’s as if you’re chasing him, you’re everywhere, he feels you everywhere.

But you're just his friend, his sweet best friend.

It was normal for you to peck Hyunjin on the lips, naturally in private or during greetings (while no one was looking). Hyunjin feels addicted.

You are worse than drugs, you cause an addictive effect. You are his absolute delight.

The boy will paint your portraits, he will exalt you like a goddess.

So why do you only see him as a friend?

Hwang Hyunjin doesn't deserve to be your friend, he wants to be your boyfriend.

The boy loves to hurt himself, he loves hardcore. He loves pain and whines a lot.

He just replaces you with pain, it helps.

Touch me, yeah

I want you to touch me there

Make me feel like I am breathing

Feel like I am human (The neighbourhood–A little death)

Han Jisung

You never paid attention to Jisung.

But Jisung was so loud and cheerful that he started to annoy you.

Jisung did this on purpose, he liked you.

The boy will notice you immediately, you immediately fell into his soul. So cold and inaccessible.

He wants to melt the ice on your heart, he wants to become your sun.

Every day he fell more in love with you, the cold intensifying his desire.

“Your love is addictive” – your words

He is very kind and cheerful with you, he is so easy to talk to.

He won't give up to get you. Even when you send him the rudest obscenities

I'm your boy.

He will sing to you, and you will ask him to shut up. You secretly love it, his voice is so beautiful.

But you should hate Han Jisung because it's the right thing to do.

You would get closer to him, but...

No.

"Is it fashionable to jerk off to him?"

"hit of the season"

Lee Felix

It was impossible not to fall in love with Felix.

everyone loves Felix!

And he loves you.

This sunny boy literally drowned in his love for you, it completely absorbed him and did not allow other feelings to pass through.

But you don't seem to notice him.

Felix dreamed about you, you are in his thoughts. The first thought in the morning, a relieving thought when he is busy and the last thought before going to bed.

He's trying to get as close to you as possible

He will become your best friend.

Felix is too good, he is an angel in a human body.

The world is not worthy of Felix, so why did he love you?

Every day, like a painful melody, this unrequited love sounded in his heart. He experienced all emotions - from boundless happiness to deep sadness - alone

He couldn't imagine life without you

If you leave, there will be no point in living.

He writes you poems, he gives you the most expensive gifts, he just wants you to love him. Love him at least a little.

Perhaps his efforts will remain irretrievably lost in time. But one thing is certain: he will continue to love you, deeply and truly, even if he never hears your answer.

Come on scratch my back

So as to reach the heart

Both you and I want this (ЩЕНКИ–dirt)

Kim Seungmin

It's like he's afraid to get close to you.

On the contrary, he moves away. Every day it gets stronger, he loves you so much and doesn’t want to see you so much.

Seungmin took this step not because of a lack of love; in fact, on the contrary, he was struck by this love.

In every breath you took, every word you said, he found the perfect embodiment of his dreams. You were his sun, his muse, his everything.

But he knew he couldn't be with you. He saw how disappointed you were in your past love, how your trust and heart were damaged. He couldn't afford to repeat the same mistake. He couldn't risk their relationship knowing that the end could only be pain and disappointment.

It hurts so much to give up on someone you love.

He deserved happiness, he deserved love, but he couldn't have it with you.

He didn't want to ruin your life or be the source of your pain.

He will go away and it will be easier for everyone.

He will disappear from your life as suddenly as he appeared.

He will never forget you, he will never stop loving you. But he knows that sometimes the best decision is to let go of the one you love. This is exactly what he did because to him, your happiness was much more important than his own.

He looks at the dawn and remembers you.

Your nose is covered in cocaine, you can barely stand

I am the secret that you cannot hide

I think about you too much (Pharaoh-unplugged 2)

Yang Jeongin

You are his first love.

He sees a future with you, he sees stars in you.

It was the first time he felt such strong feelings for someone.

Oh, he is just learning about love, but it can hurt or beat sometimes. Love can completely break the psyche.

But he doesn't care as long as you exist.

Jeongin will turn to the Hyuns for advice. how to get your attention and make you fall in love.

He will be so romantic...he will be so gentle with you.

He is afraid to do something wrong so as not to scare you away

He will be a gentleman and will wait for the moment until you fall in love, he will do everything for this!

He will wait for you all his life if necessary, but I am sure that you will fall in love faster.

“He replaced my home, love and friends. He is my everything.”

Jeongin is like warm weather, everyone is waiting for him and wants him.

Feeling so lonely, 'cause it's not enough

Missin' you only ever since we fell in love (Ciggarets after sex–Touch)

[ourautumn86]

rich stress

shane mccutcheon x fem! reader

synoposis; after a contract gone wrong, your wife needs you to feel better.

cw; minors dni!! shane being pissed off, rough sex(?), fingering (r receiving), oral sex (shane receiving), hair pulling, praising, praise kink, hickeys, no use of y/n, scissoring, tit and nipple play, make out sessions, multiple orgasms, implied shower sex…

ugh so imagine just you and shane getting married, and with time, finding your dream house in LA. she had her pockets filled with money, being known as not only the most wanted female stylist, but the own CEO of her brand. now, with millions of salons under her name and stars hitting her up everyday, she couldn’t say no to your puppy eyes when this one ticked all the boxes. anything for her baby.

it had a beautiful front garden yard with fountains and a private yet outdoors pool that had your knees going wild at the thought of the possibility of seeing shane naked on it late at night. swimming. smiling at you in that goddamn way to get you to get out of your clothes and join her too.

it had also an open kitchen and isle, in which you’d spend your sunday nights cooking with shane for your little inside-dates. and the most amazing salon for when you’d invite the others over.

it was so modern yet homey… and private. you liked that. the clear pannels that led to the pool and exterior letting the views of the city light the nights.

shane knew it was a winner when your finally saw the main bedroom. you liked big beds. for obvious reasons. and the bathroom, decorated in marble floors, had this amazing bathroom whirlpool with sights to the skyscrapers. you liked the idea of taking a bath with her after a tiring and stressful long day, and helping her let go of all the stress she underwent once she was completely undressed.

bette obviously bought the two of you lots of art pieces to decorate it with. she had such a beautiful taste. she also bought you some unique pieces of furniture that had you drooling all over yourself since of course shane insisted on screwing them up all by herself. those arms and fingers working so easily yet so hard to make the house you’d bought together your home… anyways, you thanked bette a lot for that.

and when everything was finally accommodated, you knew this was your home.

“you like it baby?” shane had asked, lips on your neck. she was still wearing her suit, ringed hand heavy on your sides.

you sighed against her. “i love it.”

“good to know i make my girl happy.” she’d smiled.

“the happiest.”

-

today her demeanor was completely changed. alice had called you up to tell you that the contract she so hard had been working on for the last 2 months had gone to waste. and that she was mad. you’d gulped. a shiver running down your spine. you knew what a mad shane meant, and your legs were already quivering.

the entrance door banged closed, and you continued with your work in the kitchen, knowing she’d be quick to find you. in less than thirty seconds, there she was, heavy and tense on the door.

“shane, baby…” you tried but she was shutting you up too quickly. her lips were harsh on yours, and you whined when one of her hands came up your chest to grab at one of your tits.

“don’t wanna talk about it.” she lowly muttered against your lips, and you nodded before surrounding her neck with your arms, kissing her once again. you knew what she needed right now.

she pushed you against the wall, free hand pushing inside your panties, since all you were wearing was one of her shirts and your underwear. she groaned when she noticed how wet you already were. too wet to be exacts.

“you have been thinking about this, huh? what? did alice called you to let you know?” you nodded, whimpering when her fingers met your clit. “of course she did. and you knew what would happen once i’d get home. you knew i was gonna fuck you, don’t you baby?” you moaned, one of her slim large fingers now inside your cunt. you blushed at the squelch of your walls opening for her. she scoffed when you nodded. “words.”

“yeah…”

she pushed another finger inside, and your thighs shook. “i’m so fucking mad.” she groaned. “good thing i have my doll to make me feel better, don’t i?” you whimpered. she sucked on your neck, leaving hickeys while she rocked her body against you with each harsh thrust of her fingers. she pulled from one of your thighs so you’d surround her hips, reaching deeper, hitting your g spot over and over again as she curled her fingers.

your back arched, and you cried out her name. she moaned as well when you pulled from her hair. her own hips thrusting against you. her tongue pushed inside your mouth, teeth clashing and lips bruising.

“i’m cumming…” you moaned, and she grunted, keeping the pace and the harshness, bringing you to your orgasm. your jaw fell slack, and she kissed your cheek and chest, her free hand cupping your tits and teasing your nipples. she didn’t stop fucking you with her fingers until you were squirming due to the overstimulation. you watched as she popped her cum soaked fingers inside her mouth, making you whine at the thought of her own slick coating your tongue. “let me help you…” you pleaded, one of your hands cupping her cunt over her pants. she grunted. “please. use me.”

you begged, and soon enough she was pushing you into your bedroom.

“you know what to do.” you nodded, your tongue dampening your lips as shane got rid of her pants while you kneeled in front of the bed. you stared up at her as she pushed her underwear down her thighs, a patch of black hair decorating her mound. she then proceeded to sat down and spread her legs, giving you a perfect view of her glistening pussy and folds. you bit down on your lip, a soft moan leaving your throat at the sight. your palms met her thighs as you got closer. “come on princess. use that pretty mouth of yours, hm?” you complied, dragging your tongue through her folds to collect her sweet slick, making her grunt as you hummed. “yeah. just like that. atta girl.”

she tasted so good…

her fingers dug into your hair, pushing you flush against her cunt as her head fell back, a groan leaving her lips when you eagerly sucked on her clit. she was so pent up and sensitive due to the stress…

she was leaking, already turned on by having had you cumming on her fingers. and now that you were on your knees for her… there was no sight she adored more.

you were eating her out like a starved woman, pants leaving her lips. “so fucking needy…” “tastes good baby? you like eating my pussy?” you nodded, moaning as your tongue plunged inside her hole. “of course you do. you like being used, don’t you?” you moaned. “come on. fuck me. need you to make me feel better.”

you exchanged your fingers with your tongue, pushing inside and making shane moan. she sounded so fucking sweet when she did, eyebrows knitted together and eyes squinted close as her jaw fell slack.

“shit. just like that.”

you sucked on her clit, kissed her folds, steadily thrusted your fingers to pull out of her more moans and grunts. and when you curled them to hit her g spot, she tugged on your locks, pushing you harder against her. she was close. you knew.

“gonna cum. gonna cum all over that pretty face of yours. fuck. gonna make a mess outta you.” you moaned, moving your fingers faster as she humped your face, thighs clenching and squirming as she gushed all over your mouth with a beautiful pornographic moan. your eyes looked at her the moment she fell apart, wanting to take on the sight through your eyelashes. ‘cause she’s looked so fucking perfect every time she came…

you cleaned her up, tasting and drinking up her juices. your chin and lips shone with it. the hand that stood on your hair fell to your cheek, her thumb tugging on your bottom lip. she looked at you with such lust that made you shiver. “come here.” she said, and you were quick to get on your feet and join her on the bed. you straddled her, and eagerly received her tongue inside your mouth, the mix of the two of you tangible. her hands harshly took your ass, tugging on your soaked panties to pull them off. you two were a mess of hands, getting rid of each others clothes in a frenzy. you looked at her tits, her perfect tits, and couldn’t help but latch onto them as her back hit the duvet. shane groaned, her hands, back on your hips, rocking you back and forth against her. you two looked like two animals in heat. humping each other as drool decorated your chins due to how messy you were being.

“need to fuck you.” you nodded, muttering a ‘please’ as she rolled you over until you were the one pinned against the bed. “so fucking pretty…” she groaned, taking you in. with your flushed cheeks and swollen lips, tits slightly bouncing with your heavy breathing. she positioned the two of you so her cunt would hover over yours. you didn’t have to beg twice, ‘cause she was already thrusting against your wetness, clits bumping against the other and making the two of you moan. you were so worked up. “so wet… all of this for eating my pussy, baby?” you nodded. “so cute.” you let out a scream when she harshly thrusted against you, the sound of your slick filling the bedroom. “such a good girl, letting me use her… look at this pussy, hm? soaked wet just for me. isn’t that right princess?” you nodded, and she clicked her tongue. “words.”

“yes, shane. fuck. just for you.” she moaned. she loved it when you called her name. it sounded so sweet falling from your lips…

your hips unconsciously thrusted against hers. you could already feel your orgasm building up. her hands cupped your tits, stimulating your nipples. your moans became more and more loud. letting her now that you were close.

“come on baby. be a good girl cum for me, i know you want to.” just a little praising and you were falling apart, gushing against her cunt as your back arched. just the sight and a couple more thrusts had her groaning as she felt her release hit her, fucking the two of you through it until the overstimulation became too much. she laid beside you, tucking her face on the crook of your shoulder as she pulled you into her arms and you caressed her hair, your fingers lacing through it. “thank you.” she muttered and you kissed her cheek. “i love you, baby.” she said, softly kissing your swollen lips, her thumb drawing circles on your hip.

“i love you too, shane.” you smiled, and kissed her back. the kiss was sweet and slow yet deep, and when she pulled away she asked:

“shower with me?”

you chuckled at the smirk on her lips.

“let’s go.” and yet. you gave in.

-

a/n; my first shane fic!! idk if it’ll get reads since it seems like there are not many shane fics on the app but anyways i love her and had to write about her.

hope y’all like it! :))

[hwangism143]

skz record (series m. list)

a/n: so. here we are. i'm finally writing an skz series. i'm also extremely terrified haha. this is a gift from me to you for hitting 100 followers. i love you all sm. also, send in an ask, dm me or reply to this post to be added to my taglist.

all the fics will be posted randomly. i can't wait for you all to read them <3 anyways pookies, tell me which one you're most excited for!!

✧.* hate to admit | (idol!bang chan x reader, exes to lovers)

╰┈➤ summer in australia before debut was one of chris's most cherished memories. his feet in the sand, the sun in his face and you in his arms. and then it was all gone. or so he thought. now that you're working for jype as a pr manager, he finds it extremely difficult not to fall in love with you - or your daughter

✧.* want so bad | (idol!minho x reader, enemies to lovers)

╰┈➤ jype was notorious for kicking out trainees who didn't perform well. you knew first hand when the company picked lee minho over you. and so, as a sweet form of revenge, you had risen through the ranks as one of the top k-pop choreographers in the industry. everything came full circle when you were asked to choreograph for stray kids. except, a certain childhood nemesis might make the lines between love and work blur indefinitely

✧.* doodle | (idol!changbin x reader, forbidden romance)

╰┈➤ changbin shouldn't want you. you're four years younger than him and work as a part-time barista at the gym he works at and a part-time tattoo artist. but it always has been said that people tend to crave the things that they can't get

✧.* love untold | (idol!hyunjin x reader, fake dating, stranger to lovers)

╰┈➤ hyunjin was enamored by you. yes, the two of you only had a sum total of one (1) conversation in a parisian art gallery but he was a goner. although, he knew, that he would never see you again. that was, until, he followed you on instagram - using his official account.

✧.* deep end | (idol!felix x reader, reverse grumpy x sunshine)

╰┈➤ it was no secret that felix loved volunteering. he loved going to the orphanage near the company for two reasons: the kids and you. you with your colourful tattoos. you with your small smile and witty remarks. you, who has stolen the key to felix's heart.

✧.* run | (idol!jisung x reader, friends to lovers)

╰┈➤ you and jisung had done almost everything together. that was the ill-fated result of growing up next to him. but when you both turned 15, he was in korea pursuing his dreams and you were home pursuing yours. finally, after 9 years, you both were reuniting. everything would be the same right? despite the wandering eyes, wandering minds...

✧.* stars and raindrops | (idol!seungmin x reader, former classmates to lovers)

╰┈➤ seungmin was tired of his life as an idol being so restricted. and so, when he happened to stumble open you in a park soaked by the rainwater, he took you up on your offer: attend your high school reunion with him. it's not like one night of alcohol and fun would make him want to see you again and again- right?

✧.* untitled | (idol!jeongin x reader, fake dating)

╰┈➤ with your company's ceo embroiled in scandal right before your first comeback, as leader you knew you had to do something. being a member of the self-producing girl group embr, you didn't know exactly what to do. luckily, your manager had a solution. unluckily, it involved fake dating yang jeongin - your ult bias and celebrity crush.

[moonbeammist]

The Peasant's Secret (Part 1)

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Dune characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.

PAIRINGS: Feyd Rautha x Fem!Fighter!Reader

AUTHORS NOTE: I drew heavy inspiration from the Dune Soundtrack, especially the Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen Suite by Hans Zimmer (avail on youtube atm)- truly sets the mood and tone for the story if you wanna have a listen. I appreciate this community of writers/readers! Any feedback and thoughts are most welcome! This is going to be a multi-chapter fic.

WARNINGS: (Mostly for 2nd Chapter): (Adults only 18+) profanity, extreme violence, gore, sadism, masochism, dubious consent, erotic undertones, heavy petting, reader is a fighter who get's extremly hurt, bigotry against the poor, very immersive, intimacy, touching, feyd-rautha is his sick self, public humiliation

SYNOPSIS: Hailing from the Planet Caladan as a rice cultivator who somehow ended up at the Harkonnen Arena, You know two things to be true.. 1. You are peasant scum and 2. You are going to try something that's never been done on the battlefield.

WORD COUNT: 2.2k words

You were in a colorless oasis. It wasn't really an oasis in the scenery sense; it was an oasis in the sense that it felt like a bottomless void, a strange, deafening dream. It was an oasis because it didn't feel like reality. A desolate vision to where no judging eyes would befall you as you threw your whole self, your body, into its ultimate test. That’s how they all made their mark here, isn’t it?

You reflect on Giedi Prime's obscure, bone-dry alternate reality to your home planet of Caladan - you were of peasant descent in the lush, grassy, biodiverse settlements. You and your mother had strengths in labour as rice planters, trading their services to the wealthy nobles in exchange for military protection. A life of labour and sweat in the rice fields, the economy depended on their work, as such, they had little free time.

Stepping foot into the outdoors, the crunch of your cheaply-made, scraggly brown boots is heard as you line up with the rest of the prisoners. The earth smelled of crust, rot, and blood. You somewhat know where you're supposed to end up as Harkonnen soldiers round you up, but at the same time, you haven’t got a clue where you’ll be settling before battle. Wide, dark tunnels arch over the sand like a protective roof against the beating black sun.  You've been given the finest privilege to represent your low-status family members in a brutal and bloody ceremony where this pale, ghostly Harkonnen House cuts you down, down into the dirt. A death deemed worthy. 

A death is worthy when you die with passion because you’re trying - kicking and screaming. It's a beautiful way to go because you feel everything.

The height of your human complexities is shown at the forefront - pushing yourself, testing yourself.. You who initially thought fighting was for those who have a reason to fight, like for political gain and power, defending your home and planets among the stars. However, you have never felt so alive, representing the absolute bottom of the barrel. What joy it would be to see an enemy fall from not hand-to-hand combat, not brute force, but peasant trickery. 

This is worth something.

That’s what you tell yourself. What else can you cling to? You were living for the cultivation of rice before you came here.

Horns erupt in a deep, haunting bass. The ground is shaking. Shaking with such strength that your feet stumble forward, knees scraping the grainy, white sand. Your hands bite into the sand. A guttural song emits from the speakers suddenly, the force of it hitting your chest like a bang. Your body stutters.

Your fellow no-name fighters eyes snap at your movements. Hushed chuckles erupt over the heavy bass. You feel slightly embarrassed as you quickly stumble back up and rub the grainy sand away from your knees and palms. Your eyes narrow.

This is all of your first times, all of your fellow fighters' first essential phases into proving yourself worthy to Harkonnens. Granted, you were vermin first, something to gawk at, something like cattle. As far as you heard from your briefing on the way here, this whole spectacle was based on a test round. If you pass your initial testing round, then - maybe, just maybe, you can live in comfort. There was not much more elaboration than that. Either get cut down, sliced down, gutted down -  or prosper. So why do you feel like you're the only one on edge? You’re in your head too much.

Because I might fucking die.

You swallow that thought down, burying it deep in your stomach, where it should stay.

Underneath the arena, there is a place where the Harkonnen soldiers stop - a small, enclosed burrow tucked away from sight, away from the audience members that fill the seats of the large dome-like sphere of the arena. Through the dark, enclosed area you can make out the bleached atmosphere stretched and rounded out, seeing several egg-like craniums darting up and down in the stands. Their eyes were like inky, beady pools of onyx - almost insect-like. They were thrashing in excitement, the low murmur of chatter and whooping heard.

You look around to your peers. There is nothing really notable about any of you. Dressed in meek wool, burlap, or loin cloth. Prepped with various weapon satchels latched onto waists or knees. You have no advanced shields or armour, that is true. As suicidal as that may seem against these elite brutes, It’s what you represent that really matters. The peasant trickery you have up your sleeve.

You were an only child born to common people. In the small moments, you would take to the hills with your mother and run and play. Your mother's long, flowing hair would crack like a whip against the wind behind her, in a game of “cat and mouse," as she would call it. You would try to grasp at the ends of her hair - your mother's high, sing-songy laughter echoing in the distance as you chased her.

You did not know your father - just that he was a passing tradesman who fell in love with your mother’s quirks and tenacity for adventure; in the odd breaks she could have them between planting rice grain. They spent 6 months together, you heard, and it was passionate. But he could not stay on this planet.

Your mother did not know if he was alive. But despite him leaving, she spoke fondly of him.  “He defied appearances. They thought of him as a simple, dull man in the trades, a grunt. But his intellect was his greatest secret.”

You supposed that maybe you were that small reminder of him to her, as her description of your father shadowed your mother’s slow moulding of your personality over the years. A weak, feeble rice labourer by appearances, always dressed in brown, murky colours to disappear. She did not want anyone to notice you at first glance; let that be your first safety. If they must stumble on you or pester your forgettable existence, you must keep up the act at first glance. You were scared, you were begging for your life like a common peasant. If they continue to prod and seek to damage or harm you, they would pry open the bottle of secrets that came spilling out of you in this fight-or-flight scenario.

You had a lot to learn and a lot to process as Caladan civilians. The threat of Caladan’s as well as other planets' potential hostile nature was something you were keenly aware of, a foot on your back of sorts, as you couldn’t do anything formidle to stop an enemy. 

The peasants, not permitted to use weapons or obtain shields or anything of the sort, could only offer you certain wisdom that was passed among the peoples. One they passed to your mother’s watchful eye and then onto you. They call it the peasant’s secret.

The art of dodging.

“Remember the game of cat and mouse?” You remember your mother’s voice barely over a whisper as she lay beside you one night in woolly sleeping bags on the soft greenery beneath you. The weather was hot enough to enjoy a night outside.  The flow of the river’s stream is heard against her.

You haven’t used the peasant’s secret in awhile. You primarily used it against your mother and your fellow people, as they would take turns throwing you into mock battles. They didn’t have any weapons, but they did collide, push, and throw themselves into your body at full speed, so you had to react quickly. 

They did push you to the limit. Bless them. Until you were an exhausted heap of limbs on the ground and had the wind knocked out of you.

You knew that wasn’t as valuable as practicing it against someone who genuinely wanted to kill you. You didn’t know if the peasant’s secret had successfully saved someone’s life against a brutal attack or if it was just used as a quick get-away.

So yes, you could fall into the trap of thinking you knew what you were doing when, in reality, it was based on instinct. Of course, the arena was a circle. A never-ending loop. Eventually, even though your stamina was now crafted to be well above average, you would eventually get tired. The peasant community of Caladan had a careful, pinpoint focus on the art of dodging rather than hand-to-hand combat or brute force, which made for a very interesting opponent, if you could even call it that. Most of the time, if you could, you were told to outrun them first. So your speed heavily improved. If they were just as fast, then you could begin your dance.

Now, you could finally put it to the test. To see how you fare, to see if it could actually prevent you from getting sliced and diced by the Harkonnens in the arena—albeit for a while. The main thing to keep in mind, as your mother had warned, was to keep your opponent on their toes, snapping not only their mental state but their body. Then, when the time is right, you steal their weapon and use it against them. Today you were permitted a small dagger, strapped and holstered on the outside of your thigh. Although you weren’t concerned about it, you told yourself you would use it as a last resort when they weren’t suspecting you to. You didn’t know how to dance with a weapon; you only knew how to bob and weave without one.

Count Fenring, the Siridar-Absentia of your homeworld Caladan, while the Atreides occupy the planet Arrakis, had dealings with the Harkonnens prior to your descent here. You were never meant to come here. But Count Fenring had called upon the rice labourers one day for a strange proposal. Gathering in the high-esteemed buildings and feeling out of place, your people had looked upon Count Fenring’s narrow, proud face. You knew him to be conniving and manipulative in nature, a renowned assassin, and the Emperor Shaddam’s right-hand man. He was neutral toward the labourers; as long as they kept up on the plantation of their planet’s rice, he had no issues. He would often make dealings with the noblemen and women of Caladan; it was very rare that the rice labourers were added to any conversation.

“House Harkonnen of Giedi Prime is seeking entertainment, to those willing-"  Count Fenring’s voice boomed, sitting atop his makeshift throne. 

His voice is cut off by your thoughts at the Planet’s name. Baron Vladimir Harkonnen of Giedi Prime, called your Count “The ambassador to the smugglers” in spice production. 

He continues. “I know you do not get to leave your trusted duties among the fields very often, but consider this a gift of sorts - whoever is able, and willing to be “battle entertainment” to the Na-barron of House Harkonnen, Feyd-Rautha, will be permitted to win your chance at freedom to travel to a new planet, a new experience.. You don’t ever have to return.”

An audible chorus of gasps are heard amongst your peoples. Hushed angry whispers fill the room. You gape at the vagrant display of lack of remorse for human life. You knew little, but House Harkonnen enjoyed pleasures in gore and sadism, is what you did know. What’s in it for your Count? This has to do with spice dealings.

“Freedom to die?”  a male voice questioned loudly. “You dangle freedom in the air as if House Harkonnen has any, and to dangle us in front of the Harkonnen brutes like meat!”

The crowd got louder and louder in frustration and opposition. The Count’s voice bellows as his army hits their swords to the ground in a clang to signify the rice labourers to quiet their naysayers. “Enough. To those who are not interested, you may leave. You are not forced to stay. To those that are, please remain.”

A number of your people shuffled out in a hurry, their bodies a large mass squeezing through the royal entryway. You blink. This is downright morbid.  You had never considered such a thing before, as you only knew your planet to be worthy of laying down your roots until the end of time.

You feel your mother reach for your hands. They are warm, and so is her eyes as she peers into the core of your being.

Your planet is beautiful -  access to bodies of lakes, rocky mountains, majestic trees and budding flowers, delicious rice... 

“You should go.” she mutters. “Live for us.”

Her words a grim truth. Brutal honesty. And that was enough for you.

A handful of the peasants stay alongside you. Your mother places her lips upon your cheek in a chaste kiss.  Your tear ducts well with water as her hand leaves your grasp. Somehow, you know it’s too late to turn back now. You don’t know what made you follow Count Fenring onto the ship and not look back. A chaotic chance for something other than field work? A plunge into absurdity?

You could try absurdity for a while, you decided.

[taeminsung]

♡ ˚⁎⁺˳ ── exist..

pairing || bang chan x reader

summary || all he wanted to do was protect you, if only for a moment.

genre/s || fluff. hurt. comfort.

mina’s notes || been feeling some sort of way and just needed some channie comfort lately. please enjoy ♡ 

Quietly Chan crept through the front door of his dorm. The last time he looked at a clock, the time read our 3:42 am, which meant everyone in the dorm was, or should be, asleep with the day they had. As he moved as silently as he could, a bright sticky note on the wall before the hall to the bedrooms caused him to pause and read it over. ‘You did great today’, the note read in your handwriting. Without realizing it, a smile crept across his face. Of course, you’d leave a note here for the other members to see too. It was one of the many reasons he knew that the members loved you and you loved them. You found ways to take care of them without them ever asking you to. A small laugh escaped his lips as he remembered when Felix said that while Chan is officially dating you, it felt like they all got a partner too. Notes like this popped up from time to time, always making him wonder who was in on it with you. Continuing his journey to his much-needed bed, his thoughts drifted to how he could repay the favor this time.

Entering his room, he didn’t expect to see a silhouette sitting in the middle of his dark room. Love? He called out softly, trying not to scare you with the way he was sneaking around his own home. The silent response was enough to tell him something was off, well that, and the fact you were sitting up in his bed well after what had to be 4 am now. Had he missed an important date? Was he supposed to be somewhere today and accidentally stood you up? Is everything ok with yours and his families? A million questions came crashing into his mind before he visibly shook it off and walked towards where you were sitting, eyes taking in the way his sweatshirt extended into sweater paws over your hands, and the way the hood was just low enough to cover your face. In an instant he panicked on the inside, trying to run down all the possible reasons for this. Did you have a nightmare and wake up to an empty room?

Carefully, he sat on the edge of the bed, gaging your reaction, before scouting further into it and in front of you when you didn’t protest his initial action. As if he was trying not to break the most expensive glass piece he had ever interacted with, he reached out to take one of your paws into him, noting how wet the ends felt. His chest began to ache as he gingerly pulled you into him tucking your face into the crook of his neck, fingers gently moving up and down your back. Words formed in his mind before disappearing before he could open his mouth. Time felt like it was passing too quickly, and he couldn’t get a single word out to comfort you, all he could do was hold you close to him. Trying to back track on all your conversations lately to try to get a clue as to what may have happened, he breath hitched when you finally spoke. I feel like... silence filled the pause, Chan just wanting to urge you to continue. I feel like, a little bit like I’ve failed, you whispered after the long minutes of him holding you close. Part of him wanted to ask why but he knew that if he spoke at this moment, you’d never want to finish the thoughts that were clearly begging to be let you. I’m watching everyone around me succeed at their dreams, your breath fanned against his neck as your spoke, and I feel like I’m stuck.

In that moment, he felt like the dark had come alive and was trying to take you away from him. Pressing his lips together, his eyes shifted to the ceiling, eyes catching the last few glow-in-the-dark stars you had put on his ceiling one night when all he wanted to do was go stargazing with you. I… I don’t know what to do anymore. I just feel like I’m existing and not living, you finished with fresh tears wetting the collar of his shirt. All too well did he know this pain that you were feeling. The feeling of simply existing, rather than feeling like you were in control and living your life. Yet he knew that there wasn’t much that he could do in the form of words for you, so he settled for letting your words echo around in his mind. As your arms wrapped around his waist, he pulled his attention off the ceiling and instead to the side of your head. When your fingers dug into his shirt and face burrowed deeper into his neck with a body shaking sob, he understands that while he had a million things to tell you, mostly the reasons why he was so proud of you, he let his hands put pressure on your back, pulling you somehow even closer to him. You needed to feel grounded in this life. Slowly, he started to adjust the both of you so that instead of sitting in the bed, you were laying on your side, face still protected in the space you had called home so many times before.

All he wanted to do was dive into your brain and chase the demons, monsters, and darkness that haunted you on days like this out. His chest felt constricted as his fingers danced across your back, knowing that you didn’t want to break any further. How long had you been in this room like this? Hours? The day? Desperately he wanted to tell you that you weren’t a failure and were on your own journey in this life, one that deceiving looks like someone else’s but had its own twist and turns for you. The dreams you were longing for were going to come to you eventually, but you just needed to wait a little longer. Something he had experienced firsthand. Yet, he knows that those words would do nothing for you tonight and instead settled for being the tether that kept you grounded. Soon he felt your breaths start to even out, encaged in his arms, a small piece of his chest swelled knowing he was at least able to get you to sleep off a little bit of this. Perhaps in the morning, some of the darkness will have been lightened. Pressing a long kiss into your hair, he made a mental note to make tomorrow filled with things that made you happy, that caused his favorite smile to grace your face. He would shower you with all the love he could possibly give.

from mina with love ♡ ˚⁎⁺˳ ── thank you for reading! ♡ requests are open.

[malewgtfstories]

Yes Coach!!!

A new sunny day reflected on the wet grass of Sunnydale High. The smell of the game that took Sunnydale to Nationals was looming. The pressure on Jimmy was immense. He was the QB after all. He didn't want to disappoint his parents, his classmates, but especially his coach. He praised the coach for his strong and manly demeanor. He knew the coach was a football star in his High School years some might say he was even a prodigy. Unfortunately, an accident caused him to never be able to play football again. In reality, the main reason why Jimmy didn't want to disappoint Coach White was because he secretly had a crush on the coach. He tried to deny his feelings toward Coach White, but he looked irresistible. Coach White was the definition of a proud American man. He had a protruding gut. His ginormous gut made a 4XL skintight. On top of that, he was hairy. Something that always infatuated Jimmy. He loved a man with a big belly and a big bread. Last but not least he loved his gigantic ass, which jiggled with every step he took. He loved the freedom the coach had with no care in the world. Getting to eat anything and everything whenever he wanted to. It seemed to be Jimmy's biggest wet dream. All of these contributing factors led to Jimmy always hiding his hard-on while near the coach.

On the other end, Jimy was a thin, lean, and hairless Mexican teen. He was the popular Jock attracting people from both genders. He was a people magnet. This made him frustrated as all he wanted was to have Coach White. He was confused about how everyone at school fawned over him and his looks. Everyone except for Coach White. He was sexually frustrated finding football the only way to relieve the pressure building inside of him.

As the school day was reaching its end, Jimmy knew this meant the game would soon begin. This was his one and only chance to impress his coach. All he strived for was for the validation of his crush. Little did he know this would warp his sense of reality as soon one looked down at him. The team was on the field waiting for their prized quarterback to come out of the locker room. Everyone was confused as to why he took his time. The game was about to begin. Jimmy stayed in the locker room contemplating whether he had made the right decision. Whether he was fit for playing at the National level. He is scared of losing. He was scared of disappointing. After a few minutes of complete silence, Coach White walked in. He was embarrassed to show this side to the coach. So, Jimmy braced himself for the confrontation he would have with the coach. "Why are you here sulking all alone? You're about to play for goddamn nationals grow a pair." "I'm sorry coach I'm not ready for this. I feel sick in my stomach." "Come on bud you're a senior. Why not leave this school with a bang? You've been preparing this all four years. Don't give up now." "I'm sorry coach, but I can't." "Well, then son I've done all I could do for you. If you quit our team, well be done. We surely won't make it without you." Coach White sighed in disappointment. He turned his back in frustration and began to exit the dimly lit room. Jimmy knew that this would be his only chance to say how he truly felt. Jimmy in a desperate attempt grabbed Coach White by his hand and turned him. "Listen coach I've been holding this in since freshman year, but I can't hold it in anymore. You are the sexiest person I know. When your big belly and ass jiggles give me boners. Your big beard makes us want to stuff you till you have crumbs intertwined between the jungle that covers your face. All I would want is to be in your shoes I know your dream is to be in my fit body, but I on the other hand would love to have the freedom your big belly gives you. I would love to have a big burly body that bumps into everything while you walk down a hallway. I just wish for the freedom you have." "I don't know where this is coming from. I know you are stressed about the game, but this is concerning." Little did they know that the god of fate had other ideas. He saw the desperation in Jimmy's eyes, so he decided to accomplish his wish. After all the god of fate is kind. Is he not? But all wishes have their downside. to balance the scales of fate something had to balance out the scales. The drawback was that their body switch would be permanent. Coach White felt weirded out by the love declaration of his star student, but deep down he did feel the same way. So did the god of fate. The switch began, and both Coach White and Jimmy felt a strange sensation in their stomachs. Jimmy felt piles of lard start to pile on him. He fell as his center of gravity was thrown off. Frist his

smooth six-pack was replaced by a small hairy beer belly. It grew to the point where it seemed he was fully free in a pregnancy. With that love, hands started to appear which gave him a wider look. His pecs soon followed as they lost all their muscle mass and were replaced with big utters. His arms lost their definition and were replaced with piles of lard that settled in where the muscle was. Hair started to grow all over his body except his head which seemed to diminish. His penis seemed to grow in thickness. Unfortunately, his fat seemed to cover this manhood. Just like his arms lost their previous fit look his legs were replaced with big trucks to hold up the gargantuan man he was now. Last but not least was his ass. Which seemed to be replaced with Jello. It was so big that the seams of his football unfirm were stretched to their full ability. Likewise, his shirt stretched in ways he never thought it would. His arms, gut, ass, and legs were clinging to dear life. Until "pop" his uniform tore and he was left there naked in the middle of the locker room. Likewise, Coach White went through his own transformation his body seemed to shrink and shrivel into a fit and young man. He gained definition in his body. His body burst with energy, and he felt a rush of excitement. He lost his body hair and looked like a hairless Greek god. And with the luxurious locks that replace his once bald hair surely completed the look. Coach White I mean Jimmy gave old clothes to Coach White. Coach White sat there in disbelief that his wish came true he felt uncomfortable. Unfortunately, they had no time to fret they had a game to win. People saw Jimmy play and they thought he had played like never before. It was as if he had gained years of experience. After the whole ordeal, Sunnydale came out as the victors and went to nationals. Everyone praised Jimmy for his hard work. Coach White felt jealous as he took his win, but there was nothing to do. He pulled him away and told him. "We need to find a way to get to our original bodies." "I'm sorry coach I don't know what you're talking about. I'm Jimmy and your Coach White." Coach White sat in silence as all of Coach White's memories came flooding in. Soon nothing remained that was part of Jimmy in Coach White. All he could think about how hungry he was. He was thinking about how many pizzas to stuff in his mouth. This was who they were now. No possible way to change back, and it is not like they would do anyway. The one who took the final laugh was the god of fate. Never mess with fate.

[chaosheadspace]

A little birthday gift for @seiya-starsniper. May your new year of life be full of happiness and joy! Also tagging @ginoeh, because the start of this is technically me misinterpreting one of her prompts, lol.

Without further ado, have some Dream raiding Hob's dreams post-fishbowl.

Stars twinkle through the window as Hob stands in his kitchen and cooks. It is late, but he is hungry, having forgotten the time grading. He’s got a day off tomorrow though, and so he is making himself a rather elaborate feast, because he feels like it. Because he can.

The light summer breeze coming through the window stirs the various smells about, sauteed onion and tomatoes and beef, spices and fat and broth, warm milk for hot chocolate and the dense, syrupy sweetness of baking apples. He’s never been good at moderation, least of all with food. Sue him. There’s a few candles burning on his kitchen table, decked out with earthenware, and through the speakers of his radio is playing a song he’s quite convinced he’s heard some time in the seventeenth century. It’s really crazy what musicians nowadays dig back up and incorporate into their music.

Just as he stirs the pumpkin soup bubbling on the back burner, there’s a low sound behind him. Hob turns, the dripping spoon still in his hand. “Oh,” he blurts out, “I am dreaming.”

Because there, in front of him, stands his stranger, who snubbed him at their last appointment, who he hasn’t seen in much longer than a hundred years. Who definitely, positively, has deep, black pits for eyes, who looks even more gaunt than usual, malnourished, even, and who is absolutely bang naked. He has to be dreaming. The music suddenly makes a lot more sense. The dishware, too, really.

“You are,” his stranger says, and even his voice is different, cavernous, deep and soft like his eyes.

“You’re welcome here, regardless,” Hob tells him. “You can have a shirt and sweats from me, if you want. Soup will be ready in just a tick.” He can see him swallow, hard, the movement of his Adam's apple on his slim neck stark.

“Very well,” he says, turning away. “See that it is.”

When he comes back, he’s wearing one of Hob’s old band shirts that’s somehow black now, and a pair of pajama pants with little yellow stars on them. Hob smiles, motions for him to sit down, and puts a bowl of the promised soup in front of him, steaming and fragrant, spiced with curry and nutmeg and roasted sesame seeds.

His friend wastes no time, forgoes the spoon entirely and lifts the bowl to his face to drink, his bony fingers clutching the glazed dish tight, uncaring about its heat. He doesn’t stop, doesn’t breathe until the heavy bowl is empty. Then he holds it out to Hob, the rim clutched between three fingers as if it weighs nothing. “More,” he demands, and Hob obliges.

This goes on four more times, and then the pot is empty. Next Hob serves up venison pasties, and he’s more than a little smug as his stranger devours the first one in just three bites, but Hob figures he’s allowed. “They’re good, right?” he says. His friend just glowers at him and reaches for the next one. When the pasties are gone, there’s dumplings and omelette and the apple pie.

It all vanishes, piece by piece, bit by bit, bite for bite, into his stranger. Afterwards, they look at each other in silence, Hob stunned at the speed it all vanished, his stranger apologetic for some reason. Then the silence is cut by the rather loudly growling stomach of his friend.

“I. uhm. I could make you some pasta?” Hob offers. “Maybe some pudding, too, let’s see…”

“No,” he’s interrupted just as he gets up. “I am afraid I have to hurry. There are things I have to tend to rather urgently. I thank you for being so hospitable.”

Suddenly they are standing in the doorway again, from one second to the next, Hob blinking up confusedly intovast, starlit eyes. They’re close, closer than they’ve ever been. There is no warmth emanating from his stranger, just a heavy, almost humming sense of presence that draws Hob in.

“Do you have to go?” He pleads. “Maybe I could—”

“I am afraid I cannot delay my task any further, Hob.” His stranger shakes his head. “I thank you for this.”

“Wait,” Hob says, desperately. “This is a dream, right?”

His stranger turns back around, the look on his face incredulous. “Yes,” he confirms for the second time, “it is.”

“So there’s no harm in doing this then,” Hob murmurs, stepping closer, gently placing one hand upon a lily-white neck. His friend shivers. Hob gets up on his toes and slowly, gently kisses his brow. “I hope you fare well,” he whispers, “and I will not give up hope to see you again when I am awake.”

From one moment to the next, Hob is alone. There is a relieving sense of loss in him, like a splinter being drawn from a wound.

Hob wakes.

[lively-potter]

— nepenthe ; jjk ; part one

— genre ; age gap, angst, fluff, smut, sheltered oc, ceo jungkook, mafia/gang vibes ( kinda/sorta)

— warnings ; please note that in the beginning, the oc is in an abusive home — and if this triggers you please don’t read. the oc is of age but nothing smutty will be happening for a while — but there WILL be smut. A small part of SA is in chapter two/part two.

— intro — part two ( coming soon )

— 2024 © @LivelyPotter

SOLARIS ; January 20th, 2024 Charleston, SC ***

HAD LIFE ALWAYS BEEN DISAPPOINTING?

I had always wondered what it would be like if I was like other teenagers my age. Would I smile without reason? Instead of looking glum and sullen? Would I have friends? I never had any before. Well, none that I could remember, anyway.

I liked to fantasize of what I wished my life would be like if Mama hadn't died.

I most often dreamed of a world without pain, suffering, and misery.

But didn't we all?

My life has ceased its meaning the moment Mama died ten years ago, at least in my Father's eyes.

I believed he only kept me around because of Mama. He loved her — more than life itself. And the moment her soul left her body and drifted to the heavens, I became a meaningless piece of property Father had to care for.

Not that he did.

I was tossed into the background and continued to exist. No love, no care, no words of comfort when I awoke during the night, sobbing, when the memories of what could have been flashed behind my eyelids.

Quite honestly, the only times my Father paid me an ounce of his attention was he got drunk and turned violent. Which was more often than I cared to admit.

And I couldn't even defend myself.

I had always been weak.

Weak minded and submissive when people — men or women — raised their voices at me.

My first thought would be to find the nearest corner and cower.

I was upset with myself about that fact.

Would I ever get stronger?

Hard pelts of water landed on my cheek and I whimpered, bruised wrists already starting to swell, weakly trying to rid myself of the zip ties encasing them. The shower turned on full blast constantly belted cold water onto my face and shivering body.

The stool underneath my bottom wobbled as I did so, and a squeak left my lips as I nearly fell forward into the cold shower wall. 

This was my punishment for accidentally forgetting to cook dinner tonight.

I had been so tired from picking up the tiny minuscule pieces of glass that was embedded in the living room carpet.

I had been there for hours after Father busted it over the coffee table.

Now I was paying the price for my incompetence.

Tied to a stool in the cold bathroom waiting for Father to sober up and he remembered where he put me.

Another shiver racked up and down my spine. I was so cold. When will this end?

I sniffled, limbs trembling, and looked heavenward.

I pressed my eyes shut and mumbled a prayer under my breath. Nowadays, praying was the only thing I sought comfort in.

Loud bangs were heard outside of the bathroom door causing my heart to skip a beat. The drunken slurs leaving Father's lips made fear creep down my spine.

Mama, please just let this night end.

I wished now more than ever to be sitting on the roof above my bedroom to look up at the stars and pretend Mama was right beside me, pointing out the constellations she was so fond of.

Mama loved the stars — being named after one herself — and even loved them enough to name me after the sun she admired and the heavens she knew she would be inhabiting one day.

Far sooner than any of us expected.

The images around me blurred, pulling me into a comforting memory that dialed down my fear. The memory was my favorite.

"Your name means of the sun, Solaris." Her voice was sweet and as smooth as honey. The unconditional love and care she held within her soul shined brightly as she brushed through my hair.

"Your middle name means heavenly," I heard her voice continued. The banging within the bathroom made an unconscious jerking sensation to my shoulders, but I was pulled in far too deep into my head that I didn't care about what would happen.

"And finally, our last name." My lips pulled up into a sorrowful smile as I heard her laughter, "it means evening star or evening prayer. Pretty, isn't it?"

Mama was my hiraeth – a home that I couldn't return to unless my days on earth were no more.

My body was jerked and the zip ties cut with a clumsy slice of a knife, jerking me back to reality. A cry of pain got lodged in my throat when the knife sliced the inside of my delicate wrist and bled.

"Up." Father's slurred voice commanded as he gave a kick to the stool I was tottering on. I teetered back and forth, my aching arms flailing through the air.

Pain erupted in the back of my head once my body fell back, and I hit the back of my head against the tiled walls.

"When will you stop being so fucking clumsy, girl?" Father looked down at me with cold, reprimanding, watery eyes.

I hesitantly touched the back of my head with my arm, and the cold water continued to pelt down onto my body — making my pain numb.

"...I...I'm sorry. I didn't mean to." my teeth chattered as I forced the words out. The only thing the water didn't numb was my fear.

"You never mean to." He rolled his eyes, his dark hair sticking up in different directions as he leaned down and jerked my body up with his hold at the top of my arm.

A cry of pain left my lips as my head smacked the glass shower door when his blunt fingers pressed purposely against the gash on my wrist.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" I sobbed as I was thrown onto the floor, knees crashing against the hard marble floor. I curled into myself and pushed my soaking-wet body into the corner beside the toilet. "It was an accident."

Father only stared at me hatefully, "Shut the hell up, girl. Don't you know it doesn't do you any good to make excuses for your laziness?" He slammed his fist into the wall above my head. "Now dry yourself off and make my fucking dinner — and don't even think about getting to eat tonight after what you've done."

Throbbing erupted behind my eyelids as I pressed a tender hand to my head. I stood up on shaky feet — took a towel from the basket and dried myself off, and the tears that were rolling down my face in the process.

Sniffling, I placed a small bandaid on my wrist to stop the bleeding and stared at my scraped knees as blood beaded from the tiny cuts.

My body convulsed in shivers as I left the bathroom, freezing. Biting down on my lip, my feet padded on the floor as I took myself up to my room to take off my wet clothes.

Thumbprint bruises were already starting to form on the tops of my arms where he had grabbed me, and my injured wrists were rubbed raw, bleeding,  and had already been bruised hours ago.

"It's okay, Solaris," I whispered to myself — having no one to talk to besides myself. It brought me comfort to hear the name my mother gave me. I never heard it leave anyone's lips besides myself.

I hurriedly changed into my clothes — an old tattered dress the women next door had given me years ago, and a pair of old socks, that had more holes than I cared to admit.

It was the only other clean set of clothes I owned. Father didn't care to buy me new clothing or shoes since I never left the house and hadn't for years.

Most of the information I knew from the outside world, was from the books and magazines Father carelessly threw away. But I always managed to sneak them back to my room and hide them in my hiding place underneath my bed.

I pulled my dripping hair back in a careless bun at the nape of my neck and snuck to the kitchen — hoping to not anger Father more than he already was.

I was as quiet as a mouse as I cooked dinner, silently crying as I did so. It didn't take me as long as I expected and I was grateful for that. My fingers shook minutely while I was plating the spaghetti and garlic bread onto his plate.

"Finally," Father grunted, glaring up at me, eyes clearing and appearing more sober than before. I jumped, flinching away from him the moment he snatched the plate from my hands and set it on the table before him. He smirked at my reaction and cracked his knuckles. "Get my beer, would you?"

I jerkily nodded and flew away from his figure to grab an unopened bottle of Modelo and cracked it open with the bottle opener hanging on a magnetic hook on the fridge.

I shifted in place, picking at the cracked skin on my lips, and waited for him to dismiss me for the day.

I shivered, running my hands up and down my arms to gain warmth. I knew better than to leave without him telling me to.

The last time I did it, two years ago, I was locked outside of the hours, in the middle of the night, during the worst cold spells Charleston had ever experienced. I distinctly remember wearing this dress and no socks.

I felt myself sniffling and made myself stay quiet. I knew I was going to have a cold after being under the cold water for hours – every time this happened, I always ended up getting sick a day or two afterward.

Father slurped down the noodles and leveled me with a stare as I stood by his side, feeling my limbs turn to ice. "I expect you to have this house spotless by the time I get back tomorrow. The guys at the company are coming over to finish up a project."

I licked at my dry lips.

I don't like it when they come over. Why do they always have to come here?

"...w-why are t-they coming here, Father?" I asked meekly, immediately regretting it when my head shot up and looked at me warningly.

"Why else? We got to get that stupid fucking PowerPoint ready for the meeting before Chairman Jeon comes back from his trip."

The blood drained from my face and my blood ran cold. author's note ; ✨

The first chapter of nepenthe is here! I hope you enjoy learning more about Solaris and her story! I'm SO EXCITED to be able to write this one for you guys. it has a more intense and intricate plot than a few of my others and it'll be a little slow to get to the climax of the story. thank you for reading ✨❤️

[silverflqmes]

you are legit my favorite ffvii writer at the moment dude. if you feel like it, do you think you can write smth about being childhood friends w zack and reuniting with him one day? make sure to take care of yourself 💕 :)

໒⦂ 𝐈𝐍𝐕𝐈𝐒𝐈𝐁𝐋𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆.

notes. HELP YOU’RE SO SWEET ANON??? IWOWJDJDK i haven’t written as much yet and i still have lots to learn but that really warmed my heart to hear 🥹🥹🥹 i decided to combine this with another request, i hope that’s okay with you both!<3

genre. fluff + angst

disclaimer. tifa speaking on cloud can either be platonic or romantic — whatever you wanna think just don’t start up a whole ship war bc it’s embarrassing as hell. obviously this is a zack fic so focus on zack smh.

zack fair x gn!reader.

“you’re.. leaving for SOLDIER?”

you shouldn’t be shocked, that was the last thing you should have been since you had been the one to encourage his decision.

and yet.. why did it hurt? you had known that it would, it was only naturally — but not like this.

zack averted his stare from the star blanketed sky, smiling solemnly. “sure am. you helped me realize that becoming a hero is something that i should do — that the world needed my kind of help.. so that’s,” he paused, allowing the evening breeze to shift his dark bangs. “exactly what i gotta do.”

you fell into silence for a moment, pursing your lips together as you considered his words.

it had been your crush’s dream from young, since seeing sephiroth on propaganda and hearing of his endeavors, to become a hero. the life he’d led in gongaga was wonderful, peaceful.. but you knew, deep down, he’d wanted to make that name for himself. that zack was.. meant for greater things.

and you, torn between your feelings for him and the need to encourage him as his best friend.. had no choice but to put aside what you felt to urge him to embrace his dreams.

when he received no answer, the raven haired teen took it as a sign to continue, leaning back on his elbows. “as of now, you’re the only one i’ve told about my decision — cuz well.. as you know, my parents aren’t super chill with it.” he laughed out, shaking his head. “so i’m gonna leave tomorrow night. got everything packed up already, a letter ready for them to pass on and i’ll be good to go!”

“tomorrow night? so soon?” you nearly interrogated him, only to respond with a slow nod. “you have my word, don’t worry about it.” should you tell on your friend? would that keep him just a little while longer if his parents knew and prevented his departure? would he hate you for it and finally give you a reason to stop feeling this way about him?

no.. you couldn’t live with yourself if he had hated you. that was practically death served on a silver platter, your heart would never start again if zack had expressed contempt for you.

for a second, longing flashed in his eyes before he allowed himself to grin, patting your back gently. “you’re amazing y/n!! i knew i could count on you no matter what! i’ll be sure to bring you something real nice from the big city!! and that’s a promise!”

a smile that didn’t quite meet your gaze etched itself onto your lips as you let out a hum of agreement. “you’re the amazing one, zack. i’ll..” miss you. “..be holding you to that promise, so you better keep it.”

three years passed and no sign of zack. the promise stood, but remained unfulfilled.

you should have expected it, that becoming a SOLDIER meant never seeing him again. you knew he was alive, a letter would have come if he wasn’t, and his parents kept you posted thankfully.

yet, there was still an emptiness you felt in his absence. every year, you’d told yourself that perhaps maybe, he would come home to visit this time.

now, having turned eighteen, you had decided to leave the comfort of gongaga as zack once had, and journeyed to nibelheim — a village in the mountains. it was small, quaint as your hometown was, perhaps colder, but after being offered a job through your parents, it called to you.

your mother had been from nibelheim and met your father in midgar — who had left gongaga to pursue a career in research as she had.

despite their retirement, they had developed many connections.. one of which, had been in the mountain village.

when you pleaded to leave and join up with your friend in the city he’d left for, your parents had urged you not to, and were strict on it.. as though something had been terribly wrong there.

you’d never asked why they retired so early on, and just assumed they had wanted to settle since they’d made their money.

but it didn’t.. fully seem that way.

“didja hear y/n? there’s a group of SOLDIERS coming down here tonight. ahhh, i hope cloud is there — i haven’t seen him in years.” your companion and guide sighed out, pacing about idly as you jotted down notes on your observations of the terrain.

tifa had been a friend you’d made upon your arrival. she was a year younger, but a real go getter and great help on your expeditions. in the beginning you worried for her safety, stringing her along as you did — only for her to protect you from the perils you feared.

you’d have to ask if that mentor of hers was willing to show you a move or two on self defense.

“cloud, huh? is he in SOLDIER, too?” you had told the girl before you already about your old buddy, as there was no possible way of her exposing your feelings for him.

and honestly, it was comforting to confide in someone for a change.

she nodded eagerly at your question, smiling softly. “he should be, it was his dream to become a SOLDIER, like sephiroth — that’s what he told me one day before he left.. and he’d promised to always protect me, no matter what.”

your writing seemed to pause at her comment, head lowering as you willed yourself to chuckle despite your anguish. “is that so?” zack, as you recalled, had dreamt of the same. “well, i hope he comes home safe if he’s a part of that group.” you smiled a little, closing your notebook before standing up from your crouched position.

“that should be enough for today, thanks for coming along again — i think i’m almost there with reaching my conclusion on this strange increase in mako spillage on the landscape.. but i just- can’t seem to put my finger on it.” you muttered, knitting your brows together before casting a glance over at mt. nibel- the highest point of the area you had moved to. “whatever, they’re keeping in that reactor.. there’s something really off about it.”

the burgundy eyed female followed your gaze before humming absentmindedly. “yeah.. i’m hoping those guys coming today might know or at least clean up over there.. i’d hate to see what might happen if the pollution intensifies down here.” she answered softly, helping you up before looking ahead. “for now, let’s get back — it’s almost sundown.”

at the mention of the visitors on their way from midgar, your thoughts went to your old friend, but you reprimanded yourself quickly. you would not have hopes again — as they only ever existed to get shattered and turn into despair.

and yet.. that one percentage asking but what if, remained.

the sun had drowned into billowing clouds, a shade of golden casting over the scenery as you walked beside your friend, exhaustion creeping up on you. however, you reminded yourself that the descent was always easier than the ascent.

“and we’re back, thank you for taking the tifa express way~” your travel partner giggled, earning a smile in return from you. she always had a way of brightening the mood with her optimism. kind of like.. nevermind.

the brunette looked around when she found the villagers gathered in the centre, adjusting her hat with a pout. “did we just miss them? i didn’t think we would be this late..”

you copied her actions, letting out a sound of contemplation. “maybe they turned in, midgar is a long way from here.. i’m sure they wanted to just take things easy for the night and start off fresh tomorrow.”

tifa paused for a minute to think before letting out a sigh and nodding. “i guess you have a point — tomorrow, then.” she smiled again, holding out her thumb. “i’m gonna be their guide, i’ll make sure of it!”

you rolled your eyes in amusement before nudging her with your elbow. “whatever helps you sleep at night, tifa.. i’ll catch you in the morning, in that case. i still gotta sort some things with information i picked up today.” a trip to that mako reactor and your research might at last be complete. perhaps.. you could convince the group in bringing you along- especially if your friend would be going.

it was the perfect in!

“mhm, see you in the morning, y/n! don’t be up all night doing that work of yours if you wanna wake up on time!”

with those parting words, followed by a wave, the female dressed in orange walked towards the direction of her home, eagerly greeting her father at the door before joining him inside.

your shoulders fell, a low exhale escaping your lips as you adjusted your backpack. and just like that, she was gone.

you made your way into the inn you’d been staying at for the time being, rubbing your eyes.

it was a temporary arrangement, given you hadn’t fully decided yet if you would be staying permanently in nibelheim. however, the living accommodations worked just fine.

you hadn’t thought yourself difficult to please, anyway. so long as you had the necessary essentials needed to live, all was well. that was what you’d learned growing up in gongaga.

entering the inn, you greeted the host before ascending the steps, pausing when you caught sight of a towering, silver haired.. male? unless a woman could stand at nearly seven feet.. and across from him, stood.. no — had your eyes deceived you?

“z-zack..?”

the conversation between the pair, whatever it had been about, came to a full stop as they turned to face you, shock painting on the face of the SOLDIER with the darker hair.

“y/n..??” he spoke up incredulously, blinking over at you as his jaw fell just slightly. “no way- what’re you doing here.. in nibelheim of all places? i thought you were-”

“in gongaga?” you asked with a small smile before shaking your head. “my parents found me work here, so i moved just a few months ago. never thought i’d see you here, before returning home, no less.”

zack could feel the coldness of your words, piercing through him like icicles tipped in poison. pissed was an understatement.

the taller behind him smiled awkwardly before moving towards his door, not wanting to be muddled into the affairs of his triend. “i believe you both have some catching up to do.. i will see you in the morning, zack.”

the boy in question parted his lips in protest, but the cat-eyed male was gone before he could do so. damn!

awkwardly, he turned to meet your awaiting stare, swallowing thickly.

“sorry, i’ve.. had a lot going on.” he confessed, lowering his head in shame. “i wanted to come home sooner — especially after making first class just recently- but things.. everything that has been going on as of late at shinra, it’s been really messed up.” zack confessed, clenching his fists at his side before letting out a glum chuckle. “and it just keeps getting weirder.. what were the odds i’d find you here of all places?”

you leaned against the window, folding your arms as you gazed out. “close to none. i guess it’s a thing of fate, maybe.” you offered, sliding your eyes back to his zircon ones. “seems my parents were right to not send me to the city with whatever ‘messed up things’ that happened.”

the SOLDIER nodded, allowing a brief silence to pass before smiling. “they probably were, yeah.. don’t think you would have liked midgar much, anyway. it’s all gross and industrial looking.. although!” he blurted suddenly, perking up as though he’d remembered something. “wait right here, i’ve got something i want to give you!”

you rose a brow at his random burst of energy, reminding you that despite the change in his appearance, the development he had gone through.. he was still your zack, and that wouldn’t change.

he disappeared into his room before you could answer, rummaging by the noises you’d made out, which had you shielding your mouth with your hand. “don’t get lost in there, now.”

“like i would!” he laughed before emerging from his quarters, holding out a messily wrapped box for you. “no matter where i went, i always kept this with me, thinking that maybe- just maybe, i would pass through our hometown and find you to hold up that promise i made to you. finally,” the spiky haired SOLDIER paused, grinning brightly. “i was able to fulfill it!”

you blinked in surprise, taking the package into your hand as you felt your face burn despite the coldness provided by the high altitudes of nibelheim. “you.. remembered?”

appalled, zack let out a gasp of offense. “remembered? how could i forget?? a promise is a promise, and i intended on keeping it!” he huffed out before raising his fists before him in excitement. “now come on, open it!!”

overcome with a sudden happiness, to know you hadn’t been forgotten despite the negative thoughts you’d created, you opened up his gift to you with earnest. a glimpse of green entered your vision as you quirked a curious brow. a plant? no.. zack wasn’t the type to keep plants.

finally removing the top completely, you stared down at the present before stifling a laugh into your forearm. “you- you got me a cactuar.. stuffed toy?” you spluttered in surprise.

of course he did — it was zack for goodness sake..

“sure did!! ya like it?? it looked authentic when i saw it in the window!” he answered proudly, placing his hands on his hips.

you continued laughing, unable to contain yourself as you held your stomach. “it’s so random- but that’s.. that’s just like you to get me!” you wiped a tear, allowing a smile nearly as bright as his, or perhaps- even brighter for a change, to replace your initial frown. “i love it a lot, but.. you wanna know what i love more?”

a mixture of interest and excitement sparked in his eyes as he inched closer, eager to hear. “what? what is it??”

having caught your breath, you closed your eyes, holding the plush close to your heart. “being here- reunited with you, again..”

like an invisible string, knots and tangles had appeared in the thread that connected you both. however, it wasn’t impossible to unravel and detangle that which connected you both, to allow an opportunity of reunion.

( even if it was the right place, but sadly.. the wrong time. )

notes. bittersweet open ending cuz well.. it’s nibelheim- anyway, i hope this was okay! i think my writing style kinda changed.. scary. oh well! the support these last few days have been much appreciated<3 tysm you guys, hearts out to you fr<3

↳ return to main masterlist . request rules . send an ask

[bettyfrommars]

Heyy, I have a little optional request for the nightmare factory. Eddie could be located in an abandoned theme park or an abandoned place half submerged in water & loves how much this location freaks you out in the best way…

nightmareGuide!eddie x reader

another installment of The Nightmare Factory

masterlist

This is a collection of blurbs and short fics about Eddie falling for you, but only being able to communicate through your nightmares. 2.3k

This suggestion really inspired me, and I don't think it's exactly what you had in mind, but I will be using more abandoned themes throughout this series. This is a comfort write for me that I post as soon as I'm finished, so I'm sure there are plenty of errors.

18+ONLY, nightmares, terror, abandoned places

------

When you showed up to the theme park, you were the only one there. Strange also because you didn’t remember how you got to that location, and as you looked around you wondered if maybe you were at the wrong place.

Perhaps you were supposed to go to a different fairgrounds or theme park because this one looked like it was abandoned.  It was dark out, and there didn’t seem to be a single star in the sky.  The moon was bright, though, and it loomed comically big, as if it were somehow much closer to earth.  You were standing in the empty parking lot in front of the ticket booth and rolling metal arm entrances, which were all covered in graffiti; the pavement littered in shattered glass from the broken windows.  Ahead you could see the looming rides spread out over the vast park, each of them overgrown with moss and vines, rusted and frozen in time like a place where laughter goes to die.

Questions echoed somewhere in the back of your head as to why you were there, but all the same—your feet kept moving  

Out of the corner of your eye, you thought you saw a black mass with multiple spider legs crawling up the ferris wheel—but when you turned with a gasp, it was gone.

“You lost?” A deep voice called to you from between the fence and the ticket booth. You saw the plume of smoke first, and then someone stepped out.

It was a man, possibly in his twenties, with long, curly dark hair past his shoulders and bangs that covered his eyebrows.  He was wearing dark jeans with holes in the knees, white shoes, and some type of denim vest covered in patches over a leather jacket.  When he took a drag of his smoke, you noticed the chunky silver rings on his fingers.

Eddie wanted to contain his excitement, but it was hard to be normal about this.

He finally found a way for you to see him—-to really see him.  To talk to him.  You could even touch him, if you wanted to.

In dreams, there are people we travel with once in a while that are simply known as Guides.  Sometimes they pass knowledge on, sometimes they are there as a reflection of your needs, and sometimes—they are just there to hang out with you.

Usually, to be a Guide you had to be employed with the Nightmare Factory for a long time; it was the equivalent of slacking off for a few years before retirement.  But, Eddie had wormed his way into the Abandoned Spaces Simulation wing of the factory by flirting ruthlessly with Jean, the older woman who worked the front desk.  

And now, there you were—looking right at him.

“I think I came to the wrong place,” you said.  It never occurred to you to ask him who he was or where he came from—there was an instant familiarity.  You even wondered if he was the reason you came to the amusement park to begin with.

“Come with me,” he inclined his head, extending the crook of his elbow for you to take.  “I have something I want to show you.”

In a blink, you were deep inside the park, surrounded by the long-forgotten rides and a place along the fence where there were once games to win prizes like pop the balloon and bullseye.  A roller coaster loomed menacingly in the distance like a big, green, sleeping monster while a vendor that advertised cotton candy had what looked like mold growing all over bags of the sweet treat and bullet holes through the sign.  

Eddie guided you to the ferris wheel, and for some reason, now it looked brand new—as shiny as the day it was first erected.  

“Take a ride with me?” Eddie asked, enjoying the expression of awe on your face.

A gust of wind blew his hair back and you wrapped your arms around yourself, horrified to realize you were still wearing your pajamas.

“Oh shit,” you whispered, meeting his amused gaze with terror.  “I forgot to change my clothes before I came here.”

“It happens,” he shrugged.  

He took your hand to help you up into the metal bucket, and then he settled in next to you and pulled the safety bar down.  Your hips were touching and he opened his knees a bit wider so that your legs were touching too.  He arched forward to adjust his jacket, and when he sat back, he turned his head to ask if you were comfortable, and you had this overwhelming urge to kiss him.

Eddie felt it too.  He noticed the way your gaze fell to his lips, the way you swallowed hard and then sought his eyes with a childlike curiosity.

“Do I know you?” You asked. “We’ve been here before, haven’t we?”

“Not here,” Eddie rocket the squeaky bucket as the ride started at a crawl. “But yeah, we’ve met before.”

Who was operating the machine? How was it suddenly in working condition?  You didn’t even think to wonder. When their seat finally made it to the top, it stopped and swayed there. Eddie lifted his arms up for a mock yawn and a stretch, and then one of his arms came down around your shoulders.

You heard the music first, and then the playful screaming and the buzz of conversation.

“Look down,” Eddie told you.

Below, the park was completely functional again.  There were no more weeds or mold growing on everything, and a sea of people made their way around to the various rides and games, enjoying the festivities.  There were bright carnival lights and people cheering and the smell of buttered popcorn.

Eddie was watching your face; basking in the way your eyes lit up.

“We should get a funnel cake after this,” you told him, forgetting that the place was ever abandoned. “With powdered sugar and strawberries.”  You put your hand on his leg so that you could lean further over to see the rest of the scene.  There were stars in the dark blue sky again, and they twinkled like jewels.

“Hey,” he brought his arm down from around your shoulders and took your hand to interlace his fingers with yours and it felt like the most natural thing in the world.  You were warm and soft and he didn’t want this to end; he could feel desperation tightening in the back of his throat.  “Can I ask you something?”

You met his gaze, searching for your answer.  “Sure?”

He looked down, rubbing his thumb along yours.  “Do you think you could try to…remember me? After you wake up, I mean.”

Your face offered the genuine confusion that you felt.  “Wake up? You mean, this is a dream?” Your attention returned to the swarm of people down below.  “Why does it feel so real?”

“I’m real,” he whispered. 

You turned to face him, to return the affection in his rich, umber eyes, and he squeezed your hand.

“Fuck it,” he breathed, deciding to shoot his shot.  “Listen, this is going to sound crazy, okay? But I work for a place called the Nightmare Factory and I was dispatched to scare you a few months ago, but I just…I don’t know…I really like you.”

As his mouth moved, his face began to distort; his eyes and nose vanished, and then they came back misplaced like a deranged Mr. Potatohead.  You watched it in awe, having trouble registering what he was saying.

“I mean, I’m not sure how this could work,” Eddie continued.  “Because we exist in different realms, but there are dreams that last for days, and I’m going to find one for us, so we can get to know each other better. If you want that?”

You nodded, even though his voice was garbled and there was an eyeball where his mouth should be.  You blinked a few times, and then his face finally went back to normal.

“I’d like to spend a few days with you,” you heard the words come out of your mouth and felt the response come from your heart, even though you didn’t think you had heard a word he’d said.  As you slept there was another very important part of you that stayed awake—and it yearned for this boy you were with.

Eddie coughed out a laugh, relieved, and then tightened his lips around a long exhale.  “Damn, that’s a relief.”

The lights all around the park began to dim, but you didn’t notice or mind, because Eddie brought his hand up to cup your jaw and ran his thumb a few times over your cheek.  The screams you heard coming from down below were different now—more blood curdling—but Eddie was pulling you close to press his forehead against yours.  

“I want to be your favorite nightmare,” he said with a chuckle.

“Are you supposed to be scary?” You asked, innocently, rubbing the tip of your nose on his. “Because you’re not very good at it.”

The bucket you were in began to swing aggressively as something made the ride jostle.  

“Shit,” Eddie hissed.  “There’s always something. But wait—don’t look!”

Before his words could register, you did, indeed, look down to find that what had once been a sea of regular people, had morphed into a horde of zombies.

Snarling, hungry, ragged zombies with bulging eyes and skin hanging off their bones.  

They were crawling their way up the ferris wheel to get to you.

You screamed and crushed in closer to Eddie. He wrapped his arms around you and put his lips against your ear so you could feel the sensation of his hot breath.  “They won’t hurt you, I promise. You trust me?”

A few of them were half way up, screeching and moaning as others joined the ascent.  You were thinking maybe you should crawl down the other side and run into the woods.  The last thing you wanted was to be mauled to death by the walking dead.

“Do you have a knife, or something we can stab them in the head with?”

Eddie chuckled at your exuberance to kill his co-workers.  “Baby, it’s okay, I promise. They’re just trying to scare you, they won’t hurt you.  Hey—” he took your face in his hands as the metal basket made a cracking sound at the hinges like it was about to break.

“Oh god oh god oh god—”

And then he pressed his lips to yours, softly, but with enough pressure that your eyes fluttered and you forgot to be worried.

The big wheel you were on started to move forward, chugging and jerking along at a labored pace.

Eddie pulled back to see you.  “Remember me? Please? Remember my face.”

All you could do was nod a few times.

The zombies were sliding off and falling to the ground as the contraption rotated on its axis, but the next problem was that you were about to be deposited right into the arms of the waiting horde; jagged teeth snapping at the air, eager to tear you limb from limb.  

“I promise I’ll try,” you told him, bracing yourself as you were lowered into the outstretched hands of your demise.

When the bucket was about to ground level, two of the zombies lunged at you from the side, and just as their fingernails clawed at your clothing and you screamed bloody murder, a wide, black hole with blue edges opened up in the atmosphere and you fell through, screaming.

You fell back to your bed.

Your eyes flew open as you gasped, feeling your arm and neck for bite marks.

“What the hell was that?” You said aloud to the dark room.

It was so vivid, so real.

There was a boy in the dream that you desperately did not want to forget, and a voice inside told you to write down what you remembered of him.  Even as you searched around in the drawer of your nightstand, the details of the boy you kissed were slipping away and turning to mist.  

Writing frantically in the dark, you recalled that he had brown eyes and he said he wanted to be your favorite nightmare.

But what did that even mean?

The abandoned theme park and the zombies—-those details were very clear.  But him…him…HIM.  Why couldn’t you keep him in your mind?

Why couldn’t you keep him?

When the ferris wheel came to a stop, Eddie pushed the metal bar up with a grunt.

“Thanks for nothing, you guys,” he told the group of flesh-eating zombies that were all gathered casually around him, mingling with clueless expressions on their faces.

“Sorry Munson,” Val—the one with a broken neck that made her head sit sideways and a missing eyeball—said with a helpless shrug.  “Kevin said we had to.”

“Fuck Kevin,” Eddie jumped from the platform to the ground, his wallet chain clapping against his thigh. “I suppose he wants to talk to me?”

They all nodded in unison.

“Are you coming to the potlatch this weekend?” Norman—the one with a skeletal face that looked like his skin had been burned off with acid and a bloody hole in his stomach—-asked with his wide, lipless mouth.  

“Maybe,” Eddie answered, shouldering his way through the rest as they mumbled their greetings. “If I have time before band practice.”

Marv, the Zombie with maggots in his rotten cheek, clapped Eddie on the back a few times.  “Kevin is on the warpath today, but don’t let him get you down, kid.  You do good work.”  

Eddie walked a bit and then stopped and turned around when he realized none of them were beside him.  “You guys coming?”

“Nah,” Val said.  “We’ve gotta wait around here for the next one. Our shift isn’t over for another hour.”

[daisynik7]

Omg Nikki!!! Congrats on the milestone!!!! 🥂 May I submit a request for this fun event? Me & U, Cassie for Gojo Satoru? -Smut if you don't mind ? 🥺

Me & U

It's me and you, I've been waiting, think I wanna make that move now

Pairing: frat boy!Gojo x sorority girl!reader

Rating: Explicit - MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Word Count: ~2.2k

cw: college au, drinking, explicit language, smut – PIV sex (cowgirl), cunnilingus, fingering, sex without a condom, creampie, pet names (sweetheart, baby)

Summary: You’re hosting a party tonight to celebrate Shoko’s acceptance into medical school. She invites a few of her friends, including resident frat star Satoru Gojo, who you historically don’t get along with. That changes when you find out his true feelings for you. 

Author’s Notes: Thanks for requesting this @mochimooon! This is a classic y2k hit for the karaoke party! I haven’t written much for Gojo, I find him so intimidating for some reason! But I had fun writing this. I hope you like it!

Shoko kneels on one knee, expertly double fisting Smirnoff Ices as you and your sisters chant your favorite drinking song. “Here’s to sister Shoko, sister Shoko, sister Shoko! Here’s to sister Shoko who’s with us tonight.”

“She’s slutty! She’s sleazy! She’s so fucking easy! Here’s to sister Shoko who’s with us tonight!”

“Now drink motherfucker, drink motherfucker, drink motherfucker. Drink!”

“NOW DRINK MOTHERFUCKER, DRINK MOTHERFUCKER, DRINK MOTHERFUCKER. DRINK!” This last line is the loudest, resulting in an uproar of cheers and laughter as she waves the two empty bottles, showing off her drinking prowess.

She recently got into her dream medical school and you’re hosting this party to celebrate, one last bang before she’s sent off in the fall. It’s only the seniors gathered tonight, all of you squeezing into your teensy off-campus, one-bedroom apartment. The celebrant wraps her arm around your shoulder, kissing you on the cheek. “Thank you for this. Might be the last time I’ll be able to for a while.”

You smile, hugging her back. “Then you better keep drinking while you still have the chance.”

She grabs the handle of vodka on the counter, twisting off the cap to take a swig. “You don’t have to tell me twice."

Since it’s an unofficial gathering of more than three sisters involving alcohol, you decide to do the responsible thing and volunteer to be sober monitor, just in case all hell breaks loose. You nurse a sparkling water, watching with amusement as your sorority sisters gradually get more and more intoxicated, especially Shoko, who’s got a happy buzz going. 

There’s loud banging on the door, causing a few of the girls to shriek. You answer it only to be met by blinding white hair, piercing blue eyes, and that all-too-familiar smirk. “Hey there, sweetheart.”

Satoru Gojo. Self-proclaimed frat star. Notorious playboy. Overall nuisance. And, unfortunately, Shoko’s good friend, which is why he’s here. 

You resist the urge to roll your eyes at him, swinging the door open to let him in. His fraternity brother, Geto, greets you politely with an embrace. You’re fond of him, having spent time with him over this past year after being voted sweetheart of their fraternity. In fact, you’re quite fond of all of the brothers, except for one. 

You’re not quite sure why you and Gojo don’t get along. Maybe it’s because of his arrogant attitude, or his inability to be serious when you need him to be. You’ve had to work alongside him on several occasions, each one resulting in disagreements or petty arguments. Like oil and water, the two of you don’t mix, simple as that. But, for Shoko’s sake, you tolerate him, enough to remain cordial, for the most part. 

“Shoko!” he greets, hugging her tightly. “Happy birthday!”

You notice the other sisters watching them, whispering to each other with giddy smiles on their faces. Of course they’re happy to see him. After all, even you can’t deny his striking good looks and charisma. While the two of them catch up, you stand by Geto, who’s searching the fridge for a beer. “How’s it going?”

He cracks open the can, taking a sip before answering. “Alright. We missed you at last week’s party. Everything okay?”

You smile at him, appreciating his concern. “Yeah, I just had to finish some projects.”

He leans against the counter, gazing at you with a smirk. “You know, Satoru was really excited for tonight.”

“Yeah? To celebrate Shoko?”

“That, and to see you.”

You raise a brow at him. “Me? Why me?”

He laughs softy. “Do you really not know?”

“Know what?”

He hums, finishing his beer. “Maybe I should just let you figure it out for yourself.”

“Geto!” you whine, clinging to his arm. “Just tell me!”

He taps his finger to his lips, winking at you, not saying another word. When he continues to remain silent even after pestering him to elaborate, you leave him, trying to distract yourself by chatting with your sisters. No matter what you do though, your mind always goes back to Satoru Gojo. Why would he be excited to see youof all people? You sneak glances at him as he maneuvers through the party, his impressive stature and magnetic personality taking up most of the space in your small apartment. At least, that’s what it seems like. All your friends fawn over him, eyes sparkling with admiration and lust. All of them except for Shoko, who’s so used to him by now that she’s unfazed. 

You find your way back to her, cradling the half-empty vodka bottle in her hands. “Did Gojo help you with that?” 

She shakes her head. “Nope. This was all me. Besides, Gojo doesn’t drink.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Can you imagine all of that with all of this?” She waves the bottle in her hand. “Pretty sure he would explode.”

You chuckle, observing him further as he performs a party trick involving a blindfold and the beer pong table, successfully making each shot without being able to see. Pretty impressive. 

The night continues. Eventually, most of the liquor stocked in your fridge and cabinets is consumed. All your sisters are drunk, including Shoko, though she manages to maintain her composure well enough to stay up on her feet. Your place is a mess now, cups and cans littered on the floor, trash thrown everywhere except the actual bin, random articles of clothing draped over the couch and TV. It’s the stereotypical image of a successful rager, and unfortunately, it’s your mess to clean up. You don’t mind it too much, especially when Shoko gives you a big smooch on the forehead, thanking you again for hosting. She’s being held between Geto and one of your other sisters, who carry her out the door towards the sorority house where she lives. One by one, each sister thanks you with a loving embrace, all smelling sickly sweet from the liquor. 

Just when you think everyone has left, you’re surprised to see Gojo drag your garbage bin from the kitchen into the living room, bending down to pick up trash.

“You really don’t have to do that,” you tell him, rushing to his side.

“And leave you to deal with this on your own? Come on, I really don’t mind.”

You mutter a quiet, “Thanks,” surprised by his kind gesture. It almost makes you forget about your history together, until he teases, “I take cash or check for my services, by the way.” 

Normally, you’d roll your eyes at him, but this time, you laugh, tossing a few cups into the bin, playing along. “How much do I owe you?”

“Hm…I think I’ll let it slide just this once.” He looks up, grinning at you. There’s a spark for the quickest moment as you hold his gaze. 

Thanks to his help, you manage to get the apartment tidied within minutes. The two of you remain silent for the most part, music still playing in the background on your speaker. He hums along to the tunes he recognizes, picking up the last bits of junk from the floor while you wipe down your sticky kitchen counter. The both of you wash your hands thoroughly, satisfied with your work. 

As he dries his hands, you remember what Geto mentioned earlier. Deciding to be bold, you ask, “I heard you were excited to see me tonight. Is that true?”

A small smirk forms on his lips as he nods. “That is true, yes.”

“Why?”

He shrugs, leaning against the counter. “I just thought it’d be nice to see you. You are our sweetheart, after all.”

There he goes again, being so unserious. You cross your arms over your chest, glaring at him. “Don’t bullshit with me, Gojo. I thought you hated me.”

“When did I ever say that?!”

“You didn’t have to! We’re always bickering over the simplest things. Like right now.”

“And who’s fault is that? You always get annoyed for no reason.”

“Oh, I have plenty of reasons to be annoyed by you,” you scoff, shaking your head at him. Of course your conversation would turn into another argument. 

He scratches the back of his neck, sighing. “I don’t want it to be like this.”

“What do you mean?”

“Me and you. Always at each other’s throats. You hating me.”

You stare down at your feet, heat rushing into your cheeks. “I don’t hate you.”

He steps closer, towering over you. “But you don’t like me.”

You peer up at him, defensive. “Well, do you like me?”

He smirks, eyes softening as he stares down at you. “Maybe. Maybe not.”

Ready to kick him out, you groan. “Ugh, there you go again, being such a fucking nuisance – ”

Before you can turn your back to him, he grips your wrist, pulling you in for you a kiss. His lips surround yours, warm and delicate against your mouth. “Is this a good enough answer for you?”

You don’t respond with words, but with another kiss instead, wrapping your arms around him to deepen it, tongues swirling around each other’s, desperate and needy. His hands are on your waist, thumbs brushing the plush skin of your belly. You moan into his mouth, gasping for breath. “Gojo.”

“I’ve been waiting for this,” he whispers, lifting you easily, sitting you up on the counter. He slips his fingers beneath the waistband of your pants. 

“Waiting for what?” you ask, spreading yourself for him, already anticipating his answer. 

He bites his lip, slowly sliding the fabric down your legs, revealing your pretty panties. “To be alone with you.” He spreads gentle kisses on the inside of your thighs. “To have my way with you.” He nuzzles his nose to your clothed pussy, stimulating your clit. 

“And who says I’ll let you?” you huff, pretending to be defiant. You’re already wet, arousal seeping from your slit, pussy aching for him. 

He chuckles, hooking his finger around your underwear, exposing your sopping cunt. “Just look at you, sweetheart. Already so fucking juicy for me.” He puckers his lips around your clit, sliding his middle finger inside you, curving at the tip to reach your G-spot. 

You buck your hips, core tight with pleasure, eager for more. “Fuck!”

Spreading his tongue wider, he smears his saliva over your swelling bud. “You love this, don’t you?”

Bunching his hair in your fist, you shove him deeper into your cunt, rocking yourself on his face. 

“Fuck yeah,” he muffles, eating you out sloppily. “Ride my face. Come for me.”

He sucks on your clit, finger pumping in and out of you relentlessly until you orgasm, thighs squeezed around his cheeks as you ride it out. When you’re done, he licks you clean, collecting all of your cum on his tongue to drink it up. When he surfaces, a cocky grin spread on his face, he runs his thumb along his nose and chin, getting every last drop. 

Your pants are still pooled around your ankles, so you kick them off, leaving you completely naked from the waist down. “Fuck me,” you say, rubbing your swollen clit. 

“Yeah? That wasn’t enough for you?” he teases, stripping out of his bottoms, stroking his stiff cock in his fist. “You need to be filled up, huh?”

All you can do is nod as he picks you up, wrapping your legs around his waist, carrying you into your bedroom. He kisses you, sucking on your bottom lip, kicking open the door, tossing you onto the mattress. “How do you want it? Tell me.” His cock is hard in his hand, tip glistening with precum.

“I want to ride you,” you say, hoisting your top off, quickly unhooking your bra. 

His smile widens, crawling up the bed to position himself against the headboard. “That’s exactly what I want too.”

You straddle his lap, rubbing your pussy along his shaft. He taps the tip against your clit, the lewd wet smacks driving you crazy. You guide him inside you until he bottoms out, nestling your ass comfortable onto his lap. 

“Fuck,” he moans, flicking his tongue on your nipple. “Give it to me, sweetheart. Make me come.”

You fuck him slowly at first, relishing the way his big cock fills you up. He sucks on your tits while you ride him, nipples perky between his lips. Soon, you’re fucking him faster, desperate to unravel him the way he did you. 

“Fuck, baby. Do it just like that. Don’t stop,” he whimpers, thrusting his hips in tandem with you. “Gonna make me nut so fucking hard.”

“Come for me, Gojo,” you breathe out, close to your second orgasm.

“You too,” he says, his thumb pressed to your clit. “Come with me, baby. Please.”

Pleasure ripples through your body, pussy tightening around him. He curses, shooting his load inside you, stuffing you full of his seed. He twitches beneath you, cock spurting every last pulse until he’s drained of energy and cum. You collapse on top of him, resting your face on his chest, catching your breath. 

After a brief moment of silence, the two of you listening to your own steadying heartbeats, he speaks. “Wow.”

You giggle, looking up at him. “Why didn’t we do this sooner?”

“Because it’s the first time we’ve ever been alone. Not with my brothers, not with your sisters. Just me and you. I’ve been waiting to make my move this whole time.” He smiles at you, pinching your nose playfully. 

“Well, you waited too long,” you say, cuddling him.

“Better late than never, right?” He cradles you in his arms, snuggling you sweetly. 

[b1rds3ye]

Of Dreams and Legends

In the middle of the night you have a heart to heart with the legendary Gromsko. You learn what inspires him to keep fighting, and somehow, that includes you.

Pairing: Sobiesław “Gromsko” Kościuszko x GN!Reader

Genre: Fluff, Confessions, Friends to Lovers

Word Count: 3.1k

Warning: My interpretation of Gromsko’s character, Reader doesn’t know Polish

A/N: Something about Gromsko’s voicelines and bio just makes him seem like an old heroic story in the making to me, so I wrote about it a lil 😌

The air held a chill tonight, lightly nipping at the exposed skin on your neck and face. Zipping up your jumper you laid with your back against the cold surface to look up to the skies. It probably would be for the best that you head back inside, but it wasn’t every night the sky would be this clear. To admire the sublime in the stars as they twinkled down at you. These days they are known as nothing more than gargantuan balls of gas, the unwanted remains of the universe, but how could one not romanticise the sight above you? Up in the expansive skies, every battle paled in comparison. These mundane balls of gas have been unchanging for millenia, the skies you are looking up now, how many others are admiring it? Not just tonight but in the years of yore. Battle armour, weaponry, nation borders and all would have changed, yet when all was done and dusted, you would all be looking up at the same skies.

A bang and a foreign curse had you jolting out of your reverie. Gaze upside down, you shot a glare at who was intruding, only to relax at the welcome sight of a familiar face.

“Sobiesław?”

“Serduszko, you do not make it easy to find you,” he grunted, grabbing his leg to manually get it over the railing.

“I just wanted to admire the night skies.”

“On the roof of our base?”

You shrugged. Sobiesław walked towards you, each footstep heavy against the roof panels, sending reverberations that vibrated rhythmically against your back with a pleasant hum.

He stood beside you, feet by your knees as he followed your gaze to the skies. Hands as fists on his waist, he made a startled noise before turning to you again.

“Did you not wish to be found? I will return to the others, alone time can be good for a soldier.”

“No, no. You’re always welcome,” you grinned.

Sobiesław’s face always held a slight scowl, it was intimidating until you realised it was unintentional. He says it was because he has spent years surrounded by skurwysyny (a word he has refused to translate for you but given how freely he says it to the enemy, you got the gist of it). Still, despite his natural frown, it softens at your words.

“It is hard to see but there is a star formation, named after a Polish king.”

You offer an inquisitive tilt of the head at his comment, wordlessly inviting him as you shift to the side to make space for him. He situated himself down beside you with a grunt of effort and you were lost for words as he adjusted to get himself comfortable against the rough texture of the roof. Sobiesław wasn’t the tallest nor the most imposing of soldiers in your company, but he managed to become a member of SpecGru for a reason. His frame was broad and sturdy, the breathing image of the quintessential soldier, postered on walls as propaganda to rouse even the most reluctant to action. His form emanated a comforting and welcome heat that soothed the bite of the night air. All of a sudden you felt rather sleepy.

Sobiesław raised an arm, pointing at the night sky. Even under his clothes you could see the curves of his muscles stretch out the wrinkles of his sleeve. The boulder that was his shoulder leading to the chain of muscle that was his bicep, linking to his forearm that was slightly flexed with the angle of his hand. Even his finger, relaxedly pointed to a dark patch in the sky, seemed determined.

“It is hard to see, but it should be there.”

Sobiesław pulls himself closer to you so that you can follow his directed hand better, a move that made you far too conscious that you were with him, alone and isolated from the rest of the company. And with the slight quirk of his lip, you were sure he was aware too.

“Scutum Sobiescianum, Shield of Sobieski. A Polish king who defended Vienna from the Turks. This was centuries ago, but I still feel great pride when I hear such an achievement.”

You stay quiet as you squint, trying to look into the supposed darkness to find this supposed constellation of defence. After some investigating you let out a sigh of defeat. You dropped your head onto the roof, creating a light thud. Sobiesław let out a hearty chuckle, turning his body so he can reach over with his far arm, offering you a sympathetic pat on the shoulder. You responded with a pout, his sheer strength meant that your body shook slightly with each pat.

“Do not worry, you do not have to see it, just know it is there,” Sobiesław reassured, giving your shoulder an extra squeeze before retreating his arm. “Aiding as a shield for allies is honourable, even if he was only abiding by a treaty.”

“You’ve always liked your history, haven’t you?”

“Greatly. Learning about the victories of the past is motivating.”

You’re not surprised. Sobiesław was not an old man and he didn’t carry himself as such, but he conducted himself in a way you have not seen in anyone else, especially on the battlefield. In combat, a soldier is selfish out of the primal need for survival. One follows orders because that’s the best chance they have of keeping their head attached to their shoulders. To deny themselves the responsibility of atrocities committed, even complacency and teamwork is just a desperate act of self-preservation, one that everyone is guilty of and can not condemn.

But Sobiesław was different. He never seemed to fight for himself. On missions, even under the glare of his signature glasses, he was always looking past the objective, over the horizon and to something greater. No matter how long he spent on foreign soil, he left the stamp of his motherland under his boots as he marched onward. Whenever you fell in battle, body unrecognisable in a coating of blood that you’re not sure is yours or the enemy’s, he is there to pick you up. Not only literally but spiritually as he rouses you to keep fighting with words of encouragement that strike the cords of your heart. Words that you swore were taken from an ancient scripture with how they unleash reservoirs of energy lost deep in your soul. His words were loud and panicked, but not once is it out of concern for his own well-being, or how the mission or his military career could be jeopardised if anything else goes wrong. In those moments, he was fighting and breathing for you.

“Did it motivate you to enlist?”

“Yes. It motivated me before I realised.”

You frowned at his odd answer.

“How so?”

“I had a dream,” he stated, nostalgia warming his voice. He pulled his head in, craning his neck at an odd angle to speak to you quietly, like he was giving you the secrets of the universe. With a wave of the hand he ushers you in and you entertain him.

“When I was little, I always dreamt of a hussar before I even knew what they were. I think it was fate, a sign from above for me to enlist.”

You stare at him in disbelief.

“There was actually a painting of a hussar in the living room of my babcia… I don’t tell anyone that last bit, it is more fun that way.”

You failed miserably at stifling a laugh, in return he smiles as he pulls away. Even with the extra tidbit of information, his motivations still felt almost fable-like, like a myth in the making.

“I can see it,” you giggled, lifting your arms up in the air as you gestured animatedly. “The old wives will be talking about the legendary Gromsko. The quintessential soldier, called to action by the restless spirit of an old warrior in his dreams. He becomes the inspiration for all the future generations. The story of the chosen one who saves the world!”

“I tell you too much,” Sobiesław groans.

“They should make a movie out of you.”

“I am too boring.”

“You’re too humble.”

Sobiesław laughed, but you did not. Leaving the sight of the stars - you had still been half-heartedly trying to distinguish the shield of a king from the darkness - you fully turned to him. You ignored the dull throb of your arm now squished between your body weight and the roof, far too distracted by how close you were to him now that the two of you were facing each other.

“Truly. Even without the dreams I think you’re an inspiration.”

You didn’t realise how sentimental you sounded until you released your words into the air. You consequently chewed at your lips, forcefully sealing them. Your voice didn’t have to fight against the midnight breeze, instead your words settled comfortably in the small space between the two of you, warm and festering in the silence.

Sobiesław was unresponsive, eyebrows far more furrowed than usual. Feigning your embarrassment as getting comfortable against the ceiling, you dipped your head down to avoid seeing his reaction.

“Do you still have that dream?” You asked hurriedly.

“... No.”

It wasn’t everyday you heard Sobiesław hesitate. He had a gruff voice that was quick to speak his mind. It was so honest that his thoughts were often unfiltered in Polish and accompanied with colourful curses to add some extra honesty. There was even the odd, throaty, unintelligible sound as his mouth worked quicker than his mind. But here he was, strategising his next words to you.

“I stopped having that dream when I joined SpecGru.”

You blinked, almost fully flinching away from him in a knee-jerk reaction.

“Ah…”

You couldn’t help but shrink into yourself, drawing your knees close to your vitals. While you did not regret joining SpecGru, you knew for a fact it was not for the faint of heart. What made waking up at base easier was the people there, with a certain Polish man heartily hollering good morning to you on the daily at 6am sharp with a voice that consequently woke up the rest of the barracks. The fact he never failed to give you a pat on the back, still having the energy to look optimistically to the next day even with the losses of a mission gone south. Even on quiet nights like these, while few and far between, you would be able to catch a glimpse of the man under the near brutish exterior. Behind the mythos and acts of altruism was a human with their own selfish needs and doubts. A sensitive man who related to you and brought you comfort when the darkness of battle bled over to your consciousness.

You had only hoped you could have done the same for him.

“I take it SpecGru didn’t meet expectations?”

You couldn’t stop the waver in your voice.

“Huh? No, it exceeded them, Serduszko.”

He turned away, back flat on the roof. Once again he looks to the cosmos, honing in on something beyond your comprehension.

“I am not done yet. I still wish to see the glory of Poland, but I want my own happiness.”

“Naturally,” you nod. Out of all the soldiers you knew, no one deserved a happy ending more than him. One where the monster is slain, peace is restored, and the hero lives happily ever after.

“I dream of returning home, I will bring my friends of new to the land of old.”

You offered a light hum of approval. It was such a simple wish, but wasn’t that the case for all heroes? To wish for something so mundane but to naturally bring greatness? Even when their dreams are supposedly selfish, their innate kindness brings glory to the good and delivers swift justice to those necessary.

“You are there,” Sobiesław murmured. Like a dream you question if he even spoke, voice so airy it blended with the rush of the breeze against your ears. Even the coarse edges of his voice become one with the low tones emanating from a nearby ventilation unit.

“You are in all of my dreams.”

Sobiesław is not looking at you, attention still trained on the stars, perhaps waiting for one to shoot across the sky. To make a wish, any little bit of aid to make a dream come true and you’re tempted to try and shoot one down for him with a rifle. Anything for him. Perhaps it was possible to fight selflessly, to bring another’s dream to fruition. Was there such a thing as staying alive for someone else? To spend your missions ensuring you return to base not for your own self, but so Sobiesław will have someone to bring home? But you can not guarantee your own life. You refused to make empty promises - Sobiesław absolutely hates them - so instead, you only offer your flimsy honesty.

“I think that dream is doable.”

“You are the hardest part about it.”

“What?”

You sat up immediately. You shot a light-hearted glare but your heart genuinely felt a pang at the sadness invading Sobiesław’s voice. How his nose twitches, trying to prevent a frown from settling on his face.

“But I’m right here!” You brought both hands to hammer at your chest, nailing in your point. “I better not be kicked out of SpecGru anytime soon. I’d love to be one of the friends you bring back home-”

“Ha!”

Sobiesław lets out a singular laugh, all air escaping his lungs to create a foreign sound that is as bitter as it is loud. You were sure he frightened a couple birds in a nearby tree who decided to migrate early from the disruption. You hoped none of the operators went to bed early else they would have had a nasty wake up call as his voice travelled in all directions, invading any of the open windows in the base.

When the echoes of his laugh settled to the ground, it dragged the warmth in the air with it. A sombre coldness came tenfold, you started to wrap your arms around your form, entering a foetal position as you looked at Sobiesław.

“It is my fault,” his confession comes out in a low groan, bringing up a hand to rub at his face. In between rubs he lets out a few quiet curses, words strained. When he is done, he still isn’t looking at you.

“I do not want to bring you back to Poland as just a friend.”

He dared to look at you and the light in his eyes snatched the air out of your lungs. Even under furrowed eyebrows his pupils were blown wide, taking you in as if you were the stars themselves. All seeing, all knowing. Even though you thought nothing special of yourself he turns to you with reverence as if you were the one who could make all his dreams come true.

You bring your gaze up to the sky, in hopes that the infinite expanse of the universe could do anything for your pounding heart. But they did little to settle your heart or your hasty breaths. The stars above really weren’t anything of wonder, were they? A shooting star is only a meteor, a large rock that will disintegrate in due time. The heroes of the past were often only average joes that were in the right place at the right time. Dreams were only the remnants of memories and experiences being fired off by neurons, to be forgotten in the void once one wakes up.

And yet you couldn’t help but romanticise it all the same.

It wouldn’t hurt, would it? Just like how Sobiesław keeps prancing around the base telling everyone his childhood dreams of a hussar were “fate”, couldn’t you make this fate too? Magical, like a prophecy. A promise that could survive any time or mission, that holds strong even against fate itself. The tale of Sobiesław’s recurring dreams that guide him to glory and consequently to you. A legend of your own.

“Then don’t,” you whispered.

“Take me to Poland as your lover.”

You didn’t think Sobiesław could look at you anymore in awe than before, but tonight was full of surprises. A heavy pause stills the air as he takes just a moment too long to understand your words. You couldn’t help but smile at how his face contorted with shock and confusion, he probably didn’t expect you to reciprocate so suddenly. But just like him, you had been dreaming of a scenario like this.

“You always have such good ideas,” Sobiesław chuckled. His boyish grin is roughened by his ragged features, but it doesn’t make it any less endearing. Pure and genuine, it had been a long time since you had seen such an expression on him. Sitting up, he reaches over to slide you across to him and again you find yourself ogling his impressive musculature. The fibres of his body swelling and flexing, his every move seemed to embody the strength of a hundred warriors. Such power and potential devoted to little old you as Sobiesław pulls you flush to his own body.

He’s like an overgrown heater, his body warmth emanating even through the thick wool of his jumper. Warm as though he was the very campfire that soldiers lit up for peace and respite at the end of a day of bloodshed. But not as warm as the lips that pressed against yours when you tilted your head to look up at him. His lips were a little chapped, the remnants of his celebratory vodka adding a crisp tang to the kiss. His actions driven by sheer passion, an arm now circling your shoulder blades and pulling you impossibly tight to him. You were trapped in his embrace, whole body entranced by his. All that was on your mind was the feeling of his being surrounding you. His calloused hands gripped onto you with a pleasant burn. Even as you struggled to breathe through your nose, your senses were filled with his cologne spiked with the smell of gunpowder and wilderness.

He let out a disapproving huff as you reluctantly pull away from him for some air, but Sobiesław still looks ever the victorious soldier.

“You make me indulge too much, Serduszko,” he exhaled.

You pressed your cheek into the fabric of his jumper, breaking into a fond smile as you cuddle into him.

“You know, you’ve never told me what that meant.”

Sobiesław took a moment to pull his head back far enough to plant a kiss on your forehead.

“It means ‘sweetheart’,” he replied smugly.

You froze.

“You mean, you called me that on missions? When we were talking to our contractors? Our direct superiors?!”

“Uh… Good thing no one else speaks Polish here, yes?”

With a joyous laugh like his, you can’t bring yourself to be angry.

Call of Duty Masterlist

[torturedpoetsdepartmentemployee]

I have an alternate universe Buggy that's been ratallng around in my head. A female Buggy that's like Taylor Swift, so she got into music and wants to be a singer. She spent most of her time on the Oro building up her guitar and piano skills. She stole the guitar from the musician(was aware but let it happen) and begged Roger to get a piano. She didn't inherently have the greatest vocals and got teased, specifically by Shanks. Dreams of being in front of a crowd cheering her on and singing her songs. Those dreams are what drive her. It goes hand in hand with canon Buggy’s inferiority complex and constantly seeking attention to be a star.

The reason I can imagine it is because Buggy would be the kind to right the most unhinged lyrics that TS is known for. Also a lot of her lyrics reflect Buggy.

Mirrorball - And they called off the circus Burned the disco down When they sent home the horses And the rodeo clowns I'm still on that tightrope I'm still trying everything to get you laughing at me I'm still a believer but I don't know why I've never been a natural All I do is try, try, try I'm still on that trapeze I'm still trying everything To keep you looking at me

Me! - I know that I'm a handful, baby, uh I know I never think before I jump And you're the kind of guy the ladies want (And there's a lot of cool chicks out there) I know that I went psycho on the phone I never leave well enough alone And trouble's gonna follow where I go (And there's a lot of cool chicks out there)

Karma - ‘Cause karma is my boyfriend Karma is a god Karma is the breeze in my hair on the weekend Karma's a relaxing thought Aren't you envious that for you it's not? Sweet like honey, karma is a cat Purring in my lap 'cause it loves me Flexing like a goddamn acrobat Me and karma vibe like that Ask me what I learned from all those years Ask me what I earned from all those tears Ask me why so many fade, but I'm still here (I'm still, I'm still here)

peace - Our coming-of-age has come and gone Suddenly the summer, it's clear I never had the courage of my convictions As long as danger is near And it's just around the corner, darling ‘Cause it lives in me No, I could never give you peace

long story short - Fatefully I tried to pick my battles 'til the battle picked me Misery Like the war of words I shouted in my sleep And you passed right by I was in the alley, surrounded on all sides The knife cuts both ways If the shoe fits, walk in it 'til your high heels break

Never Grow Up - And no one's ever burned you Nothing's ever left you scarred And even though you want to Just try to never grow up

So here I am in my new apartment In a big city, they just dropped me off It's so much colder than I thought it would be So I tuck myself in and turn my nightlight on Wish I'd never grown up I wish I'd never grown up

Endgame - I hit you like, "Bang" We tried to forget it, but we just couldn't And I bury hatchets but I keep maps of where I put 'em Reputation precedes me, they told you I'm crazy I swear I don't love the drama, it loves me

The whole of Dear Reader and most of Anti Hero. New Romantics just sounds like a pirate anthem. So definitely something Buggy would write.

Here are the albums that would be about different exes. The exes that had a lasting impact on her.

Red Hair Shanks - Debut, Fearless, and Red

Donquixate Doflamongo - Speak Now, a little of Fearless and Red.

Charlotte Katakuri - Speak Now

Sir Crocodile - 1989

Sakazuki/Akainu -folklore, evermore

Dracula Mihawk - reputation, Lover, folklore, evermore

Midnights is a mix of them. Also she falls back in love with Mihawk and Crocodile after they form the Cross Guild.

Her exes have a hard time forgetting her and its made even worse by their enemies using the songs about them to torment them. It also doesn't help that their subordinates and families listen to her songs too. I'm still figuring out the timeline. Akainu happens before Mihawk but she is so hurt by him that she wasn't able to write any songs about him until much later.

None of this is a commentary on Taylor Swift or her personal life. Just my interpretations and how they'd fit.



[cheeseanonioncrisps]

I get that Helluva Boss and Hazbin don't and aren't planned to have much overlap, and for the most part I appreciate that separation and the way that it makes the world seem that bit larger.

The one exception being this: I am convinced that Angel Dust and Fizzarolli are at least acquaintances, and quite possibly friends.

No, listen, hear me out.

Angel supposedly died in the forties. We don't know exactly when he was picked up by Valentino, but I think it's fair to assume he's been working in Hell's sex work/stripping/porn scene for at least a few decades before he joins the Hotel.

Fizz's backstory is obviously more detailed. We know that he was either born in the Pride Ring or came there at a very young age, because he was already working there as a circus performer when he was a kid.

By the time Helluva Boss starts, however, he's obviously moved on to operating primarily in the Greed and Lust rings, as Mammon's star performer and Asmodeus's boyfriend platonic PA who he occasionally has totally unemotional bang-sessions with.

In between these two points is the accident, which seems to have happened when Fizz was in his late teens. The last time he saw Blitz before that night in Ozzies.

So, here's where the only concrete canon 'evidence' for my theory kicks in: in Oops, Blitz claims that he and Fizz have “been in each other's relative vicinity twice in the last fifteen years” (referring to Ozzies and just now when they bumped into each other in Greed).

However in The-Mammon-Episode-With-Too-Long-A-Title, everyone can't stop talking about how Fizz has consistently won Mammon's clown pageant every time he's entered. For the past ten years.

That gives us five whole years of Fizz's life that are completely unaccounted for. We know that he started this period off in the Pride Ring with his circus destroyed and a brand-new permanent disability to get used to, and ended it in Greed working for Mammon, but we have no idea what happened in between.

So, here is where evidence ends and rampant speculation begins.

As a former child performer, Fizz is unlikely to have had much experience doing anything else. In fact, given that they were travelling with the circus, it seems unlikely that him and Blitz would even have ended up with a steady education.

Blitz obviously managed to found his own business after the accident, but Blitz had been dreaming of doing just that since he was a young child, and it was his Dad who was actually handling the business-side of the circus, so I don't think he's a fair comparison. Fizz probably spent his early years assuming he'd just keep performing forever, and so it makes sense that he'd go back to that.

On the other hand, Fizz had just lost all his limbs, and would have been having to adjust to his prosthetics. (Most likely lower quality prosthetics that he ended up with later, since those seem to be a gift from Ozzie.)

His clown act was mostly physical. Acrobatics require a sense of balance and spatial awareness. Balloon animals and juggling require fine motor control. Literally replacing all four of your limbs— even with magical Hell-prosthetics— is going to cause issues with all these skills, at least temporarily.

So. What industry in the Pride Ring is related to entertainment, but doesn't necessarily require any complex acrobatics, and would most likely welcome a fresh amputee with severe facial scarring? (For fetish reasons, if nothing else?)

I'm not saying Fizz would have done sex work, since he seems so uncomfortable with the idea, but stripping? Maybe doing some soft core porn? I could see that. He's clearly not too fussed about adult entertainment in general, because he's totally okay performing at Ozzies.

He's also probably insanely handsome by imp standards. Like, dude ends up becoming a major sex symbol throughout the rings and has the embodiment of Lust falling madly in love with him. (Plus, as a kid and teenager, he got more attention as a performer than Blitz— the guy who briefly dated a succubus pop-star and now has an ars-goetia prince begging him for a pity-fuck at every opportunity.)

So, given all that, and given his future success, it makes sense that he'd have been popular. Which immediately puts him in range of one of the Pride ring's other hugely popular adult performers: Angel Dust.

And I could see these two getting along. Since Angel is more of a sex worker whereas Fizz is more of a performer, and since Angel would probably be mainly catering to sinner demons and Fizz to hellborn (though no doubt there'd be some overlap), chances are they wouldn't be in direct competition with each other.

They have similar senses of humour and similar personalities. They both like small, cute animals. They both genuinely care about the quality of their performances, even in circumstances where they might not be expected to. They both have a tendency to mask their emotions with sex-related jokes.

Plus there's the fucking angst potential of Angel befriending Fizz when he was an independent performer, and then watching— helplessly— as his friend starts talking about this new job offer with Mammon.

Like people have already made posts about how Angel might feel watching Fizz's performance in Two Minutes Notice and comparing it to his own situation with Valentino, but fuck imagine it from the other end of Angel watching his friend fall into that situation.

Trying to talk him out of it during the initial love-bombing phase and getting told he's just jealous. Not even being able to visit Fizz when it all goes wrong because sinners aren't allowed to leave the Pride Ring.

Also, as a secondary detail, imagine Angel Dust finding out that his new friend's life-changing injuries were caused by Blitz, seemingly a pretty well-known figure in the Pride Ring.

Imagine Blitz finding out that Hell's most famous porn actor has genuine beef with him and having absolutely no idea why.

(Millie, Moxxie and Loona— based on the Verosika thing— all assume it was a bad breakup, despite Blitz insisting otherwise.)

[sanjisblackasswife]

*bangs on table* luffy, Sanji with a shy child or normal s/o! (Please I dont remember if I asked)

Lmk if I got ur request right , my love. Enjoy!<3

Luffy & Sanji with a Shy S/O (Separate) (SFW)

Black Fem Reader in Mind

CW: None! Fluffy/Kinda Crack

Sanji

You being shy is probably one of his favorite qualities you offer! He never feels awkward around you, your quiet presence is company enough.

Sanji was actually (and ironically) the first guy you began to get close with before anybody else when you first joined because he allowed you to sit and read while he cooked. The background noises of the kitchen soothed you in a way.

He was still a simp. You being more closed in DIDNT stop him from having his outuburst here and there, but he learned to calm down (JUST A TINSEY BIT) when he learned about your shy nature.

He always keeps his kitchen open for you alone when you’re feeling too overwhelmed from the chaos of the crew

You’re similar to Franky in terms of building things to help with the crew, so having that time with no distractions helped you plenty to improve even as a thank you to the fellow you you built him his own personal lighter

“Y/N, DEAR YOU—-you didnt have to!”

It wasn’t the moment he fell in love with you, but it was definitely the moment he needed to claim you as his so he asked you out.

Sanji is very considerate to your shy nature, he tries not to put you in situations where you’ll feel awkward or uncomfortable.

He also finds it absolutely adorable when you immediately gravitate to him when you get nervous. His hand with always be free for you to hold on to

Sanji kind of started to get a need of wanting to take care of you more and nearly baby you so beware of that if you don’t like it.

All in all 12/10 boyfriend. He wouldn’t change a thing about you.

Luffy

You are the yin to his yang💀

Yall couldn’t be more different. But it was okay.

Luffy is Luffy and Luffy gets along with almost everybody.

It was kind of odd to see how closely you and the rambunctious captain got but he paid no mind to it.

You don’t talk unless spoken to and you keep to yourself alot and somehow that pushed Luffy to be more in your business?

You didn’t mind it, but sometimes it would startle you to look up and see his body squatting on the take beside you trying to peek at your drawings.

“What are you doing?”

“Can i see?”

“You should have drawn our flag!”

“Usopp can draw too!”

“You should redraw Sanji’s bounty poster!”

Everybody BUT Luffy could see how uncomfortable he made you sometimes, and after a slap and kick from Sanji and Nami they told him to lay back a little.

Which he tried.

He didn’t care about your shy nature, for some odd reason it made him gravitate more to you so now he taps you.

Alot.

He taps you when he wants to talk.

He taps you when he wants your attention.

He taps you when he wants to hear you speak.

One day Luffy did his daily tap of your cheek and plopped his hat on your head to watch you draw again, but today you wanted it to be a surprise.

“Heyyy! Lemme seee!”

You kept ignoring him until he started to whine like a baby and that’s when you handed him the picture.

It was a drawing of Luffy’s dream he told you all about a fee days go.

His eyes lit up like stars he loved it so much

He was even blushing a little

From that day to this you had Luffy under your finger. Wherever you went. He went. When you wanted to take a nap or draw he wanted to too. His personality even started to rub off on you and you felt more comfortable to smile and joke with him in private.

Luffy wasn’t the type to be into labels like calling you his girlfriend, but you were his new favorite person to talk to, listen to, and even confide to.

Just to be with, he loves you sm.

There has always been moments as youre drawing where Luffy has been so open to you about his past that even some of the strawhats don’t even know about.

He doesn’t mind being with you even if you’re shy/timid.

You were his form of comfort and he was yours.