#( you swore he seemed like a totally different person. )

[erabundus]

creature  is  his  default  state  of  being.

[aweina]

౨ৎ. MANSPREAD ( 17﹢) ; mike schmidt

tags fem reader. established relationship. dry humping / heavy petting. begging. no reader orgasm ( boo ! ! ). cocky to submissive mikey + 1.8k words.

mike cannot seem to keep his legs closed. literally. sitting next to him was a total hassle. his legs covering every perimeter of leg space he could reach — leaving your knees buckled together and tucked in whatever corner you’re forced into.

you’ve mentioned his bad habit before, in which he mumbles an indolent “sorry” and then the next day, continues to do the same thing he’s half heartedly apologized for. at this point, you’re not sure he was doing it to press your buttons or his permanent restlessness has caught up with his memory.

then playful slaps on the knee became another idea. a quick sting to his skin kept his reactions stunned, buckling his knees together from your sharp touches. each slap garnered a short cry and a sudden flinch like some invisible string tied his legs together.

it worked, but only for a few days.

now mike catches your wrist halfway from making contact on his knees, gently tugging you down in the corner of the linen couch with a delighted chuckle. either that or he tosses you a knowing glance when you come by the couch, a raised brow and his hands protecting the caps of his knees — glancing his soft hazel eyes towards the tiny empty space beside him.

what a total ass.

all your solutions to stop his leg spreading habit seemed to do nothing for mike. instead, it made him even more repulsive — the spatial width between his legs could nearly reach the arms of the couch, leaving your poor body folded to regain any left over space. then his arms spread along the plush pillows — his rough hand would ever so often teasingly tug at your ears or play with the loose strands of your hair, pulling the ends while playfully twirling it in his finger.

in the corner of your eye, you swore there was a smug smile etched onto his face.

yeah, he’s totally doing this on purpose.

you thought a bit harder after that day. re-enacting different scenarios in your head without it resulting in some unneeded argument — nearly burning abby’s lunch in the process. but like a flash of light, it suddenly hit you. if mike was going to rob you of personal space, why can’t you do so to him?

“um … are you okay?” abby glances up at your blank eyes in concern, the chicken that was supposed to be golden brown violently sizzled from the bubbling oil, grimly layered under a blanket of black charcoal.

“o – oh, yes i’m fine abs.” you assured the smaller schmidt, transferring the hot pan away from the scorching stove — your inner victory delayed by your own clumsiness.

to salvage her burnt meal, you both shared a box of fresh delivered pizza for lunch.

but now it was that time.

it’s nighttime, mike was comfortably splayed on the couch, mindlessly flipping through channels. as it always was, his legs covered every crevice of the couch — body propped completely in between the plush cushions. the gray baggy sweatpants he changed into clung to his frame well — heavily ruffled on the parts you would love to get an eyeful of. his shirt was slightly damp from a warm shower, the gentle curl patterns in his brown hair glistened under the colorful glow of the television.

mike catches your lingering gaze, a pleased smile on his face.

“you’re not going to sit down?” he slurred a quip, patting down on the other end of the couch — seized by his thick thighs.

he refrains from teasing you for your blatant staring, but instead, for your multiple failed attempts to get him to stop his obnoxious leg spreading.

“oh yeah i will.” you mocked his sluggish tone, going to get yourself a cold drink before you make your way over to the couch.

blocking his view from the blaring screen, you purposely bent down in slow motion — distracting him from his vacuous browsing to simply put your drink down. mike quirks a brow at your little act, but still makes no effort to scoot over, barely moving a muscle.

then your body began to engulf his vision, fluorescent light spilling in the sides of your shadow. confusion knitted into his brows until suddenly, the air in his lungs were punched out from an added weight. the heavy crash of your body made mike rasp a curse, making him pathetically adjust himself after being nearly sunken in the folds of the aged couch — one hand clawing at the cushions for some stability.

“r – really? on my lap?” mike managed to breath out, holding your waist steadily with his free hand — your body felt so good flushed against his.

the innocent attempt to adjust himself ended up with him grinding on your ass, eliciting a low groan from his lips.

gosh, he’s too loud.

you hurriedly fish out the remote from his weak grasp, changing the channel to something that could hopefully muffle the pathetic noises that spill from mike’s mouth. abby’s room was still nearby the living room, the lights off and the door completely shut.

“well … you never give me room on the couch, so i think this is fair.” you explained leisurely, tossing the remote to the side as you grappled onto his spread knees, lifting off some weight to rub slow, shallow circles over his clothed cock.

mike fought back a needy whimper, biting his lip until fleshy pink turned paper white. the cooling sensation of his damp hair did nothing from how much his body was burning up. both his hands cling desperately onto the handles of your waist — kneading and lightly grazing his nails in your soft skin.

a throbbing warmth brushed against your clothed clit, mercilessly constricted by the confines of his sweatpants. you fought back a whine yourself, desperately tugging at the gray fabric with sealed lips. every steady brush of your soft flesh made mike see stars, the urge to lift his hips and grind harder into the curve of ass sat heavy in his lust hazed mind. yet his obedience seemed to glimmer brighter than his deviant instincts.

“ha ha- harder – ngh – please go harder.”

he sounded so sweet, so needy. you couldn’t deny him when the pool of his sticky precum oozes through the gray fabric — gossamer strings that weaved your dripping arousal with his own.

“s – stay still then.” you whispered, now fully pressing your weight against his hard cock — your back against his panting chest.

mike does what you ask, gluing his hips down to the cushions.

his heartbeat was racing against time, pumping all the hot blood that rushed down to his cock. his warm breath fanned the back of your neck, sending electric waves down your spine. his touches were sweaty, latching and kneading anything that pertained to softness. the open mouthed kisses he planted on your bare neck blossomed into purple hues, the drag of his teeth and muted whimpers coercing you to absolutely destroy him.

your hips rocked faster on his cock, the throbbing imprint tucked between the curve of your ass. his grip felt extra tight on your hips, reddish crescent marks decorating your flushed skin. mike throws his head back on the couch, his usual deep groans replaced with airy sighs. he closes his eyes, the same stars dancing in his eyelids — your heady scent making it harder for him not to hold you down himself and hump his cock against your pussy.

he’s so close, he can feel it.

“might cum – ah fuck.” mike warns with a high-pitched whine, the blasting audio from the television really doing him a favor.

you can tell too. his cock hasn’t stopped throbbing ever since he’s accidentally grind against you. his seeping precum never seemed to stop, only staining against the seat of the couch. he was like a horny teenager, so desperate to get off and trying so hard to compose himself. not like the asshole who was taking up all the space on the couch.

this was a great plan after all.

with one hard press against his cock, a spill of scorching heat nestled into your clothed pussy — eating through his soiled fabric and coating your covered folds. with no restraint whatsoever, mike’s deep groan vibrated the dimly lit living room, mindlessly bucking his hips lazily over your cunt like he could possibly pump some cum along your walls. the stars that whirled under his lids dispersed into a warm, satisfied feeling all over his usual restless body.

the very last minute, your hands flailed over his panting mouth — looking over to the direction of abby’s room. he seems to realize how loud he was, eyes widening as he hastily grabs onto the discarded remote, amplifying the volume to a considerate tone. not too loud to wake her up but definitely loud enough to cover the after effects of your intense heavy petting.

the light in her room remains untouched, her delicate footsteps nonexistent. she’s still asleep, thank goodness.

still both hazy from your lustful highs, mike drops the remote and snuggles into the crook of your neck — taking in your addicting scent while admiring the love marks he gave you. his cock softened under the soiled fabric, the sticky feeling making him furrow his brows. but then he realizes one thing, the sudden flinch of his body made you alarmed.

“i – i’m sorry. you didn’t get to cum.” mike sheepishly apologizes, fiddling with the waistband of your soiled shorts.

you shook your head with a relieved sigh, leaning back to gently kiss his stubble jawline — combing your fingers through his soft curls, dried on the top but the ends damp with sweat.

“i’m fine, baby, but you can make it up with one thing.” you mumbled in the base of his ear, a playful smile on your face.

in the corner of his eye, he can see the curl of your lips — the sight earning an eye roll.

“i already know what you’re going to say, but let’s hear it.” mike’s voice was baritone next to your flushed face, completely contrasting his previous whines and whimpers.

“give me all the space on the couch for now on.” you laugh when mike groans, still pulling your body closer to his despite this new ordeal.

“okay fine.” he defeatedly mumbles into your shoulder, his rough hands tracing over your bruised hips to your neglected chest — reaching under to knead your soft skin for his own enjoyment.

the moments of comforting silence were therapeutic, not even the continuous dialogue and sound effects from the bulky screen could ruin its peace. there was something still ticking mike off, he didn’t want to ruin this sweet moment but he couldn’t help it.

“are you sure my lap isn’t good enough?” he pleaded, a glint of hope in his hazy eyes — the couch being his only source of possession where he could splay himself comfortably.

you scoffed, rolling your eyes in the back of your head.

“no.”

it was an attempt.

he huffs in defeat, now kneading at your chest for some comfort.

“okay.”

© aweina : please do not copy, repost, or modify any of my content.

[sugar-grigri]

analyze the ball kicking scene 🫶🏼 (out of joke, love your posts <3)

Yes, even kicking balls has symbolism in Chainsaw Man

You're joking, Anon, but I wanted to do a post about it yesterday, and now you've given me the opportunity. Everything in this chapter is about the symbolism of kicking balls, yes, even the beginning!

Haruka Iseumi flicks through several TV channels, rather blasély, until he comes across a woman whose speech seems to resonate with him, a woman who seems to feel betrayed, disoriented like these teenagers who have been put in danger by an institution that has never seen their good, the church. But this girl only talks about her disappointment following a scandal surrounding over-mediatized stars.

What Haruka is going through right now is disillusionment, believing that his problems would have been taken seriously, his situation as an escaped high school terrorist, would have interested the public. But people prefer not to face up to these kinds of problems; an epidemic of people turned into demons is as commonplace as wars. To avoid jeopardizing personal comfort, people prefer to focus on other problems. Because people literally don't have the balls to face reality.

But contrary to what Haruka thinks, he's not so different: he's also an angst-ridden child who had totally surrendered to his idol, Chainsaw Man, to the point of convincing himself that he was bound to him, even pretending to be him for a semblance of trust. What the chapter seems to show is that Haruka is more down to earth than that girl on TV, but what it really shows is that he's exactly like that girl, but no longer admits it to himself.

No, Haruka, you're not dreaming, or rather you have been until now and now you can't do it anymore.

Because you've reached his idol, you have literally reassembled his image, you've seen the boy you have no interest in behind that reassuring mask.

What this chapter is about is the illusion into which we accept to insert ourselves in order to better resist our fears and existential ills.

Denji doesn't have to exist to shatter the illusions he needs to survive; even his awakening and his speech are too much, as his image no longer matches the one he wears as a universal puppet. He's literally cuter when he's inanimate, because that's what he's made for. At least, that's the only way we accept him. He's made to fill your person, and it's impossible for Chainsaw Man to be a person in his own right.

As proof of this, when Denji wakes up, his first reflex is not to discover that he's complete again, for he exists only to fill others, hence his question to Asa as to where her arm has gone. Unknowingly, Denji has accepted his role.

For Katana Man and Yoru, Chainsaw Man is a goal, a dream to be achieved. Seeing the person behind it, the other half, disturbs them. Considering it might even make them reconsider their choices.

Katana Man has deluded himself into believing that Denji no longer has the heart of a man, that he was his grandfather's tormentor and not the child who was the victim. He needs this revenge to move forward, just as Yoru, as a war demon, needs to fight an unattainable adversary to continue wreaking havoc.

But what's that got to do with it? What does this have to do with beating Denji's balls off?

Who kicked Katana Man in the balls? Aki and Denji. If Chainsaw Man is the metaphor for the comforting illusion of others, Aki is the symbol that revenge (often impossible) is a long-term, survival goal for hearts scarred by resentment. Beating the balls off? The meeting of the two.

When Aki and Denji beat up Katana Man, the illusion of a proud, virile, traditional man who swore by his honor had been shattered. What Katana Man represented to himself and to the readers, this formidable adversary, had been dismantled.

But above all, this was a gentle, more accessible form of revenge, one that would allow us to survive, a way for Aki to avenge Himeno in her own way, without actually avenging her. It's about beating your opponent while admitting you've lost in some way.

Similarly, when Katana Man and Yoru defeat Denji, they lead to a renewed desire to dismantle Chainsaw Man's image. To bring it together as their long-term goal of revenge. But despite this balance of power, this gesture symbolically demonstrates that they are not certain of their victory.

Above all, the important answer in this chapter is once again in the background.

Fami continues to eat undisturbed. She eats all the time, but in this chapter, she seemed almost to be regaining her strength.

Why was that?

Her plan was clear, to make people fear Chainsaw Man as well as the war, to make Yoru and Chainsaw Man champions. But what about the media? They prefer to do what's most profitable, keeping viewers entertained for as long as possible, so that they forget about the real issues.

People prefer to delude themselves, to dream dreams, rather than focus on reality, so will Chainsaw Man and Yoru have their strength increased to the point where they'll be potential opponents for death?

because people are already escaping the fear of death through entertainment, which is even the best champion.

Instead of thinking about our existential crises, we flood our brains with unimportant information.

As the philosopher Pascal would say: "Since men have not been able to cure death, misery and ignorance, they have decided, in order to make themselves happy, not to think about them. Notwithstanding these miseries, he wants to be happy, and only wants to be happy, and cannot not want to be happy".

But let's close this loop of questions: if Chainsaw Man allows this comforting disillusionment, Denji is the opposite, something we refuse to see, if Chainsaw Man is a dream, Denji is reality. Let's get back to our main subject: beating up balls.

When Aki first beat Denji up, he wanted to disgust him enough to prevent him from signing up as a public hunter. Literally, he preferred to spare Denji from reality, by killing the symbol that is Denji (did you miss the headaches I caused?). But when Denji retaliates, to insist that he wants to enlist, it's the other way around: it's the harshness of reality that Denji fully accepts that will prevail over Aki's attempt to protect him.

When Katana Man and Yoru beat Denji's balls off, in reality they're trying to fight the reality of what Chainsaw Man is, this mixture between a boy, reality, and the bloodthirsty enemy, the dream, Chainsaw Man. Beating up Denji is an attempt to avoid the harshness of life. It's that illusion.

So when Denji helped Aki beat up Katana Man, he allowed him to escape his survival mechanisms, his revenge, his illusion, by enjoying the present moment, pure reality. But when Denji defeated Aki, it was also the announcement of the reality of Aki's fate, which would outweigh this illusion - the success of his revenge.

That's why Pochita, the dream and illusion, prevents Denji from opening the door. When Denji sees reality, he can't help opening it. Just as Makima concentrated on her Chainsaw Man dream without seeing reality, Denji right behind it. Just as the dream allows Denji to escape reality, the contract between Denji and Pochita has allowed Denji to become someone else, escaping from himself, himself a victim of the dream without being able to know exactly what he is.

But don't forget, beating the balls off is Denji's tactic.

Why is that? Because no matter how hard you try to escape it, reality will always prevail.

[leonstoenailunderhisbed]

Femme Fatale

Summary: Leon is a cop that got transferred to a new city in order to investigate the spike in murder cases. However, this isn’t an ordinary murder case. It is a serial killer murdering men.

Warning: mentions of blood, violence, death. !serial!killer reader x !cop Leon. Reader is 21+ (don’t drink under the legal age). Reader is female (hence the title lol)

Word count: 4,483

A/N: HELLOOOOO I feel like it’s been a hot minute since I wrote anything. I’ve been seeing a lot of short smut stories lately and I just wanted to bring something different to the table lol!!! Another murder fanfic with no smut (sorry smut lovers, but if you want a part two, I’ll write one!)

“You’ll wish you never met her at all, you’ll wish you never met her at all,” - Maneater, Nelly Fortudo

Nobody knows the true definition of being a femme fatale. It goes beyond aesthetic, but you use that for your own advantage. Seems like society does play a useful role for your adventures.

They are adventures to you, but the police like to call them "ongoing murders," whatever that meant. So, what if you killed a guy at a bar, he was being sleazy and wouldn't take no for an answer, so you acted out in self-defense. The cops believed you because why would they go against a woman who simply defended themselves? That'd tarnish their name and reputation.

So, you got away with your first murder. Easy as pie.

The memory was still fresh in your mind. You were out, hanging at a bar as you drank your savings away. Some horrible event happened prior to the night and what better way to cheer you up than a couple of drinks.

Of course, a man ogled you from the other side of the bar. Practically undressing you and fucking you in his sick and perverted mind. He was at least twice your age, what a psycho.

He had approached you, offered to buy you a drink to which you declined. Claiming you had too much to drink and had work in the morning the next day. You thought it ended at that as you made your exit, only to have life play an incredible joke at you. It wasn't incredible to you, but maybe to the universe it was.

The man had followed you and pulled into a sketchy and dark alleyway, attempting to drug you by attacking you from behind and stuffing a drugged piece of cloth against your mouth right under your nostrils. But it didn't go great for him, he's a total idiot that seemed to have no idea what he was doing. What a damn rookie.

You jabbed your elbow into his gut from behind, the man momentarily paralyzed which allowed you to swing your bag at his face. He stumbled backwards and fell. But that wasn't enough for you, was it?

No, it was not. It never is.

What is a woman if she can't bring revenge to her own self? And so, you watched as the man fell back against the concrete floor, cursing silently that he didn't hit his head hard enough. No worries, nothing a little help couldn't do, right?

You swore you weren't a violent person but as you straddled the man and beat the shit out of him, you felt nothing but pure bliss. A smile plastered on your face like a permanent reminder to the man that women aren't as easy as he thought they were. Oh, how naive men can be.

Blood covered your knuckles, his face so fucked up and bruised that it would be nearly impossible to recognize him. Until you spotted his driver's silence on the floor and stole it. This fucker needed to disappear and what better way than to do it yourself. You needed no help, you were independent. To hell with the patriarchy!

He was a heavy man, but you managed. You strangled him with the straps of your bag, watching as his face turned purple from the lack of oxygen. His eyes nearly bulging out of his sockets as he gasped and tried to pry your hands away. Disgusting, you thought.

The second he died; you didn't move. You needed to make sure he was gone for good and when he was, you weren't stupid enough to leave him there, oh god no.

You burnt him.

His body was tossed in one of those trashcans where teenagers come and lit fires while they committed underage drinking, for once you were happy those teenagers were of help.

And that was the first time you committed murder, and certainly not your last.

-

News reported the numerous cases of dead and missing men, you cried fake tears and showed fake empathy for the families of the victims but deep down you didn't care. They were all bad in your mind, letting their sons and brothers terrorize and claim what wasn't theirs in the first place.

Yeah, you became a mysterious symbol for female murderers. Nobody knew who this sudden serial killer was, much less what gender. But it gave hope to the women of the town, the ones stuck in a toxic relationship, the ones being forced to act like a mother rather than a daughter--you gave each one hope.

Right after the murders were set, the dead men would get exposed to the media. One of your victims had illegal pictures in his hard drive and you had no regret in releasing them to the media. As far as you were concerned, they could all rot in hell.

Your killings continued to pile up, each one different than the other to throw the police off tracks and make them start their investigation all over again. Gosh not only were they lazy but also stupid.

Not until that tall and blonde new cop showed in town. He was new but he seemed like a capable cop. You should've felt scared or threatened at the new addition to the station, but you didn't. You only felt amused that they had to bring outside help all because they couldn't figure out that you were the serial killer.

-

"You shouldn't be drinking during the day," a voice rang out from behind you as you sat on the bar stool, drinking away. You turned your head over your shoulder to find the new cop standing behind you. His blue uniform hugging his muscles tightly, his blonde hair reaching just below his ears and his blue eyes staring at you intently.

"It's not heathy," he added as he walked to stand next to your sitting form, to which you raised a single brow and turned your head back forward and took a sip of your drink, "Good morning to you too, Officer."

"Kennedy," he said, extending his hand out for you to shake, "But you can call me Leon if that's more comfortable for you."

You took his hand, shaking it firmly as you noted how strong he seemed to be, "I don't think anyone feels comfortable in the presence of a cop but sure," you said as you gave him a tight lipped smile.

"Can't argue with that," he replied as he took his hand away and watched you drink. There was a silence that overtook the two of you right before he spoke, he seemed rather hesitant.

"What do you know about the murders?" he asked cautiously, eyes narrowing as he stared at you, watching for any signs of... suspicion, perhaps?

"You mean the ones about the guys being found dead in a ditch?" you asked sarcastically, a half smirk reaching your lips, "Heard too much about them lately. It's all everyone seems to be thinking about these days..."

"Well, it makes sense. This killer seems to be targeting men and then exposing them for their... disturbing habits... you don't happen to know about the town's vigilante, would you?" he asked, propping his arm on the countertop of the bar and turned to face you.

You turned your head to look at him, feigning innocence at his question, "No, officer, I haven't learned anything about the serial killer. Everyone's been busy being on their best behavior..." you glanced down at his uniform, admittedly checking him out before you looked back at his face, "And I suggest you do too, have a nice day."

The would be the last time you saw the cop for the time being. You knew he was going to be tailing you from that moment, so you had to be strategic. Maybe you'd seduce your way out of jail but at the same time, isn't a little game of cat and mouse fun?

-

It hasn't been going well for Leon. As soon as he was transferred from his previous station, he's been overworked with the investigation. Sure, he wasn't a real detective, but he was still a cop recommended by a popular chief. In his email he had stated that Leon was "perceptive" and "had an intelligence beyond human comprehension."

Leon didn't know why the chief was so insistent in getting him out of that station and to a new city, but rumor has it that it was because the chief didn't want anyone to discover the affair he was having. He knew Leon would've been the first one to figure it out.

And it worked, because now Leon was sitting in an office, trying his damnest to think about all the murders. Trying to find a common denominator between all of them.

"You look like you haven't slept in days. Reminds me of my wife when we had our first child," a police officer, by the name of Robert, entered the room with two cups of coffee. Robert was his assigned partner, the seasoned detective sent to teach him the ropes around the new station. But Leon didn't need training, he was already good at his job, and he didn't need a nanny.

He offered Leon a cup of coffee, leaning back against the edge of the desk behind him as he stared at the corkboard with evidence and pictures of the murders, strings going left and right as he linked each crime scene to another, "Yeah, well, I don't have either so I'm sure I'll be fine," Leon responded as he took the coffee and sipped it.

"You're really trying to solve this? You know we've been at a dead end for days, right? Half of these will turn cold and get stored down in the archives..." Robert muttered as he glanced at Leon, to which Leon simply nodded.

"Yep, that's exactly what I'm going to do," Leon replied, as if stating the obvious, "Isn't it suspicious how all of these murders are so... different? Too different?"

Robert could only stare at Leon with confusion, "What the hell are you--No, I don't find it suspicious. I actually think we just have multiple murderers."

"You think about 20 people in this town are murderers?" Leon retorted as he raised an eyebrow at Robert.

Robert sighed exasperatedly, "Okay, maybe not, but how are you even sure this is one person?"

"Because the perpetrator has been too careful. See this?" Leon took a picture from the corkboard, a piece of evidence from the crime scene, "None of the weapons have been found. But we know that they were used. There's a slit in this man's stomach, caused by a knife... don't you see? This serial killer purposefully takes the weapon and doesn't leave it behind because they know we can track their fingerprints and it's a game over for them."

Robert was actually a bit impressed but then he scoffed, "Leon, that seems like a stretch. What if the killer doesn't even use weapons? I mean, what if-what if-fuck. I hate when you make sense..." he muttered, which prompted Leon to smirk just a bit.

"I can feel that we are slowly getting closer to solving this. We just need to think like the killer..." Leon muttered right before the lightbulb above his head lit up, "And what better way than to act the part, huh?"

Robert looked at him confused with furrowed brows, watching as Leon took his jacket and started to make his way out, "Where are you going?"

"The only place where guys roam like fish--the club," he said before he stepped out of the room and started to walk out of the station towards his car. Robert could only sigh, wishing he was young enough to catch up to Leon's speed.

-

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," you muttered as you paced around your room. Ever since that new cop came into town, it's been hard for you to continue your killings. You're almost sure he's waiting to catch you at any moment and arrest you.

It's been a couple of days since his arrival, but he's been patrolling the places you'd usually go to catch your victim, the bar, the club, hell, even the park!

He was too good at his job and it both pissed you off and stressed you out.

"Fuck!" you yelled in frustration, for the past half year, you've been killing with no problem, but now that going to stop soon enough. You couldn't let the new cop win, this was no longer a game.

This was war.

You quickly dashed to your room, hopping on your bed and getting your laptop. You usually weren't the type of girl to stalk people but screw it, this Leon Kennedy needed to get out.

But to your dismay...he was a decent dude.

Nothing too important stood out. His Facebook was boring, the only pictures you could find were posted by his family. His Instagram was dry, he'd post without captioning his pictures. Who does that?!

You learned he graduated high school at 18, and then graduated from the academy early due to academic excellence and immediately got sent to a police station to work at only 21 years old. He didn't seem to have many friends, but then again, online life was nothing like real life.

But not all was lost. You learned he was 27 years old and single. You could use this to your advantage, to become the femme fatale everyone had been whispering about around the streets.

-

Leon went undercover to the town's most popular night club, he dressed casually and out of his uniform. The last thing he needed was for him to cause more panic than the serial killer had instilled.

"One beer, please," Leon ordered at the bar. The music blasting off from the speakers on the walls, lights down low as lasers and light sticks illuminated the place. People danced around, nothing too suspicious except for the disgusting display of affection by some couples.

"Here," the bartender said as he slid Leon his beer. He wasn't usually a beer guy, but he assumed he need a light drink to push through. vodka and tequila didn't seem fitting for the job he was currently trying to do.

He walked around the club, his eyes glancing everywhere for any suspicious activity. He had found none.

Well not nothing, his eyes landed back on the bar, walking towards it to get another drink and give up for the night. Until he saw you. You were dressed in a tight little dress, your hair and makeup done but he wasn't paying attention to any of that. He paid attention to the way you were talking with a guy.

Now, the idea was still a bit weak in his mind. He had no proof that the serial killer could be a woman but something in him was setting off his buttons of suspicion. Why hasn’t he thought about it before?

Maybe because he had no real reason too. He didn’t mean it, but he thought most murders were caused by men. But he just couldn’t shake off something about you. So he lingered a bit, deciding to forget about the beer and just focus on you.

It didn’t surprise him that you were flirting back with the guy that has been talking to you, he was handsome but not as handsome as himself (his own words). He stood far, making sure not to blow his cover. He hasn’t found anything remotely suspicious so it wouldn’t hurt to keep an eye on you, right?

That’s when he followed you out the club, the man walking next to you and guiding you to his car. That was weird but he’s heard of one night stands. Personally, Leon wasn’t that type of guy.

The streets were crowded at night and he lost sight of you for a quick second, until he spotted your figure getting pulled into an alley. Suspicious enough? Very much so. He didn’t hesitate to take out his gun from the waistband of his pants, getting ready to defend if anything were to happen to you. He was a cop and a gentleman after all.

But as he approached the isolated alley in which he last saw you, it was unexpectedly dark and quiet. Leon’s steps were slow and quiet as he walked further into the alley, his gun aimed and pointed in front of him in case something decided to jump at him. Luckily nothing did.

Although he did hear a sound. What was that? He wondered as he stepped deeper into the alleyway. His shoes rubbing off the cracked concrete floor until he was met with a horrific sight.

The man that had tried to take you to his car was found dead on the floor. He immediately dialed emergencies and went over to the man, it all happened to quickly and his eyes darted around to try and find you.

-

You knew you were being followed that night at the club and your suspicion was correct when you saw the familiar sight of a certain blonde man on the reflection of a car’s window. He’s astute, too astute for his own good.

Much to his dismay, the man you killed died on the way to the hospital so he couldn’t give out a statement of who had attacked him or what happened. But Leon wasn’t going to rest until he found you, was he?

You debated flying to another country, turning your back and leaving for good. But something stopped you from doing so. What about your job? What about your family and friends? They wouldn’t believe you if you went abroad in your own for no specific reason.

Curse you Leon Kennedy.

-

After that night, he’s been practically living in the station. Evidence piling up but he had no solid evidence that it was you who committed the crimes. His word alone couldn’t be trusted for two reasons; he didn’t even you actively attack the man and his opinion as a cap was already biased! He was in a pickle. It didn’t help that the higher ups pressured him into speeding up the case, they wanted the culprit to get caught already as all the men in the town cowered in their homes. Scared that they would be next.

Not so fun when the shoe’s on the other foot, huh?

He knew he shouldn’t but he did anyway. His stalked for your information, sneaking into the town’s city hall to retrieve your files like birth certificates and such. Turns out the police didn’t hold these documents, the city hall did.

He had found your address and immediately began to drive to your place. He needed answers and he didn’t care that he was breaking police code. He knew it was you, you had to be involved in this somehow.

As he approached your place, he wanted to pound at the door like they did in FBI movies but he knew he had to act civil since he had no real evidence to base his suspicions on.

Once the door was opened, he noticed your startled expression, almost catching off guard by his sudden visit. And he wasn’t even wearing his uniform, “Officer,” you said as you stood by your door, “To what do I owe the pleasure…?”

“I saw you,” he said, jumping straight to the point, “The night that man died—you were with him. I saw you walk out of the club with him and then somehow, he died.”

His eyes were piercing daggers at you, almost as if he wanted to peek into your mind and read your thoughts.

But you only stared at him silently, Leon was too smart, “I didn’t feel good and he called me an Uber,” you lied casually.

“You didn’t feel good, huh?” He huffed in amusement, glancing away for a second before he looked back down at you.

“Yeah, I got drunk and started to feel sick. He did me a favor,” you continued with your lie, knowing damn well you weren’t sick at all.

He hummed and nodded his head once, nibbling his bottom lip as he stared at you with an analytical gaze.

“Take care, then,” he muttered, taking a step backwards, keeping his eyes on you. As if telling you that he was on to you. He was going to uncover your secret.

-

When he left, you felt as if the world almost stopped. Your heart was hammering inside your chest, your breathing labored as you thought about what the hell just happened. Damn you, Leon. You really know how to use that brain, huh?

You couldn’t just stop the murders, that would only give Leon more proof that you were the serial killer he was after. No, you needed to keep killing to stray him away. You did it with the other cops, couldn’t be that hard.

-

You’ve killed, but you killed less men. The police had advised individuals to remain in their homes after curfew. That it was dangerous with a serial killer still on the loose.

It was all so stupid. You were serving revenge to all the women who fell into the traps of men and here comes a man to stop you.

That’s when it hit you, what if you tried to kill the officer himself?

No, you couldn’t. That would only sell you out.

But what you could do was send him a message.

On your next victim, you planned it differently. Instead of the clean and simple murder way you usually go with, you decided that you’d be messy. Make him confused, make him believe that the serial killer was a scared person. That would shove him away from you for a while, right?

When Leon arrived at the crime scene, he saw the blood splattered around the brick walls of behind a convenience store. The body dumped inside the dumpster, his body slashed with knife wounds and face beaten up. You tried to make it seem like a man committed the murder, men were messy, right?

Unfortunately for you, in the midst of your perfectly messy murder, Leon had found CCTV footage of the whole thing with your face showing. This was solid evidence to finally get you.

-

And that’s how you ended up at the station’s interrogation room with your wrists cuffed to the table. The room was cold, grey, and bright. Almost looking like a hospital. Modern architecture kills artists.

“So,” Leon started as he sat across from you, files laying flat on the table, “Care to explain?”

“Explain what?” You feigned obliviousness.

“The murders, the blood—everything?”

You held back an eye roll, he had caught you and there was no point in lying, was there?

With a defeated sigh, you leaned back against the chair you were seated on, “I was… only trying to help,” you began quietly.

“Help? By committing murders and bringing terror to the town?”

“You don’t understand,” you immediately responded, a bit frustrated that he didn’t get to understand, “I killed those men because they’re nothing but a waste of space,” you spat bitterly.

He sat there in silence, brows pinching together as he crossed his arms over his chest, letting you continue. There’s no going back when the cat’s been out of the bag.

With a sharp inhale, you continued, “Those men, they do bad things. Prey on women and take advantage of them… I was tired, so, so, so tired, officer…” you whispered.

“When I realized that a man had tried to drug me and take advantage of me, something in me snapped and I knew then that I couldn’t sit back and let him do whatever he wanted to me. I refused to become an object for horny men that can’t keep their dick inside their pants,” you muttered, leaning forward as your eyes narrowed at Leon. You weren’t blaming Leon but he understood your motives.

“So you took it upon yourself to get rid of these guys…” he muttered, his head slowly nodding as he let the information rest in his mind.”

“I did,” you admitted, “I had to.”

“You had to?” He repeated as his eyebrows raised.

“Yes—you don’t understand what it’s like to fear for your life just because of your gender. I didn’t choose to be born this way so why should I let people treat me like shit?”

“I understand where you’re coming from but hurting other people will only hurt you,” he said quietly as he leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table, “How much longer did you think you could’ve kept going, hm? You’re a smart girl, Y/n, you deserve better than jail.”

His words were sincere and for a moment, your walls came down. He was right, in a way, how much longer could you have kept killing people before it caught up to you? Before you lost your mind? You didn’t even think about that.

Silence took over and he sighed softly, looking you over with pity. You were young, smart, and had a bright future ahead of you. He almost felt bad for wanting to catch you this whole time. Almost.

“What’s done is done,” he finally said, breaking the silence, “You committed unforgivable crimes…” his voice trailed off.

“But you had a good reason for them,” he muttered and pulled the files back towards him, “You were defending yourself and your friends during these occasions. It was self defense,” he said firmly, as if he was changing your story.

Wait, what?

The files in his hands held the pictures of you violently killing people, but never once did he actually open that file. Instead, he made up a story for you…

“Why?” You whispered, staring deeply into his eyes. He shrugged and stood up, “Everyone’s been on their best behavior, right?”

-

It’s been a few days since you’ve been questioned. Leon had gotten rid of the evidence and instead made up new ones that led to the story he fabricated for you.

It was all surreal.

Never once in your life, you would’ve thought a cop would help you. You felt shocked, baffled, and confused. But a part of you was grateful. You should’ve known the court system of this town was just as careless as the police station before Leon came because all they did was give you a slap on the wrist and let you go. Once again, not wishing to have their reputation tarnished.

You’ve stopped your killings, for obvious reasons. But, you were glad you’ve lived your five seconds of fame. Even if your identity was never exposed to the public.

You owed it all to Leon. Too bad he had left town. He returned to his city, claiming he had some unfinished business (most like with his chief for throwing him into this town so unexpectedly).

Part of you missed him, it was fun while it lasted, right?

[fl3shm4id3n]

ₜₕₑ Fₐcₑ ᵢ ₗₒᵥₑd ₘₒₛₜ

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐯𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐚 𝐡𝐮𝐠𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮. 𝐈𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐨𝐛𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐨 𝐬𝐨, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐲 𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬. 𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐰𝐡𝐲 𝐡𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐧 '𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞' 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐭 𝐡𝐢𝐦. 𝐄𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡.

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ᴀꜱᴛᴀʀɪᴏɴ x ꜰᴇᴍ! ʀᴇɪɴᴄᴀʀɴᴀᴛᴇᴅ! ᴛᴀᴠ! ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

Tw: Star-crossed lovers concept, unhealthy obsession, mentions of passed abused, reality confusion/ Dream-reality, she/her refer to reader's past life self, slow burn?, a bit of angst and comfort. Not edited.

A/N: I hope ya'll like this second part, any feed back is appreciated.

Masterlist

He couldn't believe it, the myths about reincarnation were true. You, who was once his Lady, his once Lover, of Her. You were right here, except you were a totally different person. But with the face he once loved most. The face he couldn't ever forget. As much as he wanted to be happy to meet you again. He felt a huge amount of guilt. That he couldn't protect his Lady. That if he were to be in the quarters sooner, then he would have prevented Cazador from killing you. It would eat him up so much, he just began to ignore that guilt, even thought he didn't want to.

Astarion was very observant about you, he would pay attention to every small detail of you. How kind you were despite the tadpole in your head. He also noticed the love you had for music and embroidery. Yes, you were just like her. You shared her same traits. Not only that, but you were just beautiful, you shared her same beauty. Both inside and out. He couldn't keep his eyes off you. Astarion had the idea to always have his eyes on you. He didn't want anything to happen to you, even though you knew how to defend yourself. Just the thought of you getting killed gets to him. He didn't take it to an extreme, but he just wanted to keep his guard up.

Whenever he'd have a chance to be alone with you, he'd take it. Always making the time for it, as if he didn't want to be away from you. Ever. He was there when you were given a lute after you helped a lady with her music. He loved to watch you play the instrument. He wouldn't mind listening you for hours, playing that lovely music. When he'd watch you play, you looked just like her when she did. You seemed much more relaxed when playing, your hands weren't shaking as if you were being forced with fear, your fingers bleeding and nails broken. You looked absolutely stunning, she looked absolutely beautiful.

Not only that, but he'd watch you sew. When there was not much to do. You'd sew in your free time. You had some materials in your stuff. Astarion would lurk by and watch you do your handy work. It was beautiful, you were as talented as she was. He remembers when you had found a black velvet coat that would fit him perfectly, so you decided to embryoid him some gold colored peacocks and other kinds of designs on the coat. He loved it. He swore that he'd cherish the garment for the rest of his life. The smile on your face made him happy, specially since you had her same smile.

Another thing that he had caught on. The mark on your left side of the neck. It was two little dark spots, right where the bite would have been. He always wanted to get a better look at it. He knew that she hated that scar, because it was a form of branding by Him. But now it was a birthmark of yours. Proving that you were really her. His one and only love.

It was no secret to you that Astarion was basically following you around like a lost puppy. At first you thought it was harmless, but the more you thought of it, the more you realized that this was becoming something than just a man trying to be friends with you. Did he want to be more than friends? You have noticed his strange behavior towards you, as if, you reminded him of someone he used to know. As weird as it seemed, you didn't want to be seen as rude towards him, but you also knew that there was more than just him following you around.

"Astarion? Can I talk to you?" you asked the male who was busy looking at himself in a mirror, which was odd of him to do. "Sure, what is it darling." He gave you his full attention. You grabbed his hand and took him away from the camp and into the woods. He had a goofy grin on his face, as if we were about to do more than just talk. When you were in the woods, face to face with him. "What's been on your mind lightly?" you asked him, in which he gave you a confused look. "What are you talking about? I'm completely fine." He said, now getting nervous of what you were about to say.

You sighed. "There is something that is wrong, ever since we met, you've just been tagging along with me. I don't mind at all, but I know that there is something going on." You explained, Astarion felt frozen, you've caught on. Now he'll have to confess to you why he's been acting the way that he has. He didn't know how to break it to you, how to tell you that you're the reincarnation of his once love of his life. Will you hate him? Will you drive a wooden stake into his heart? What would you do? "Astarion? Please tell me what's wrong, I'm willing to listen to you" You encouraged him, now getting worried.

He couldn't hide it anymore, he had to confess to you. Astarion let out a loud sigh as he rubbed his face with both hands. Then he looked at you. "This is going to be weird, but... You, you used to be the woman I fell in love with centuries ago." He confessed, making you raise your brows at him in surprised. You watched how he took out a small piece of paper from his shirt, then he handed it to you. You took the small parchment paper, it was old, but still remained together. Opening the paper, you saw the picture of a woman. Except this woman looks just like you. But she was dressed like a noble woman. Her hair was up adorned with flowers and other hairpins. Earrings and with a slight hint of what you assumed was makeup. She looked beautiful, it was almost as if you were staring at a picture of yourself.

"That woman, she was you in past." He added, you heard the sadness in his voice. You looked at him, seen the sad look in his eyes. You only nodded, looking back at the picture of your past life. "I understand now. Why you've grown some interest in me and why you're always so protective." You said while looking at the drawing. "I knew I should have done something, I wished I was there sooner that you wouldn't of died." Astarion whimpered out. In the verge of tears. You got close to him, putting the picture back in his shirt and you placed your hands on his cheeks. "It's okay, it's not your fault." You tried to explained to him. "But it was, you got killed and I wasn't there." He cried out, tears rolling down his cheeks.

You cleaned his tears with your thumbs, as he began to sob in sadness. "Astarion, Its not your fault." You said comfortingly. All Astarion could do was cry. "It's not your fault." You explained to him, then he fell to his knees, still in tears. "It's not your fault." You repeated as you hugged him close to your stomach as his arms wrapped his arms around your waist. "It's not your fault." You said again, stroking his soft hair. All he could do was cry, this guilt has been eating him up for days. He felt as if he was dying. He finally got to be able to express his feelings. As much as he didn't want to be seen like this, he just couldn't help it.

"I'm sure that she would've understood. She knows that you would have done anything to protect her." You tried to reason with him, but he was still in denial. "I would have done anything to save you. To make sure that you were safe from him." He said, as he continued to sob. As much as you didn't want to disappoint him, you just had to. For his sake. "I'm not her." You said to him, this made him look up at you. His eyes were red swollen red and filled in tears. You gave him a sadden look. "You're not her?" H asked, almost confused. "I'm not her." You told him more sternly. The more he looked at you, the more of her appearance began to fade. He began to see less of her and more of you. Yeah you might have shared the same face, but you had your own features.

Your small facial scars were more visible, the shape of your nose was way more different than hers, as well as the shape of your face, and hair. But what didn't really change were your age, except the color of them. They were alive then they were did. The more he looked at you, the more changes he saw of you. You were right, you weren't her, anymore. You were you. Astarion got up from the dirt floor, still looking at you in the eyes, with tears still remaining in his eyes. "I see now, you're not her. At least not anymore." He told you. He sighed, wiping his tears away. "I need some time to think." He said, giving you a small smile. You gave him a small smile in return. Then he turned away, leaving deeper into the woods.

Once alone, Astarion was sitting near a riverbank, thinking about what just happened. He was too blind to see, he was asphyxiated of the thought of you being her. You were, once, but now you weren't. You were a completely different person and it took him forever to realize that. It felt refreshing. He no longer felt that huge amount of guilt he had build up, but that wasn't it. He needed to do something else to completely be free from the guilt.

Back at the camp, everyone was asleep, except for you and him. You were both standing in front of the bonfire. "Are you sure you'll do it? You don't have to if you don't want to." You told him. Astarion was holding the old picture. "No, I have to. Or else I'll never truly be free from this guilt." He said, as if a lump grew in his throat. You only nodded. Then without thinking twice, he threw the small paper at the fire. Slowly burning away, the once parchment paper had now become ashes. You saw the look of hurt in his eyes, but you knew that he was doing what was best for himself, for once.

Days had passed since that night, Astarion felt all kinds of relief. He no longer felt a heavy weight on his shoulders. He felt much more lighter than most days. He also felt new emotions. More much happier and relaxed. He hasn't felt like in centuries. He felt happy despite Cazador being after him. He thought back of that night where he got a reality check from you. He felt grateful that you had helped him with this. Not only that, but he began to see you. He no longer saw her face, he saw your face. As if it were bran new face he's never seen in his life. That was a good sign. He didn't completely forget of her, but he knew that she would have wanted for him to move on and be happy with someone else.

He had stopped comparing you to her. That meant that he no longer felt the guilt that he had been feeling for decades. Everything that you did, felt new, as if he had never seen someone do the things you did for years. He saw you in a bran new light. Everything about you had began to fascinate him more than ever. But what caught his attention the most was the way you treated those around you, how you were willing to help those in need of helping. But he also saw how kindness wasn't always the answer, and violence would often had to play a role in some situations. You were just an incredible human being. The only person who had somewhat stored his faith in humanity.

Astarion had fallen in love with you, again, but instead of your past life. He was falling for you, and hard. It no longer felt like an obsession as before, but real love. The problem was, that he had no idea what to do with his new found feelings. He had forgot how that feeling felt like many years ago. But he was willing to learn again.

"Do you have a moment dear? I'd like to speak with you" Astarion got your attention, you nodded and looked right back at him. "What is it?" You asked him, seen the small blush on his cheeks. "I know we didn't have a good start, but. Since that night, I began to grow these new feelings towards you." He explained. "Now I see you, for you. I no longer see her, but you. You're.... you're incredible. You deserve a lot, well at least to me. I would like for something... for us to start something new, something real. But I understand that you wouldn't want to be with me, after what happened in the past." He admitted.

You couldn't help but give him a small smile. "I do want something with you. I've liked you for the last couple months we were together, but I just didn't want our relationship to start with an unhealthy obsession. Because who knows what might have happened if it started that way." You explained. You saw the look of guilt her had, but he quickly added to the sentence. "But I've changed, I've realized that I fell in love with you. And I again, apologize for that, I really am." He said, you could hear the sound of his voice, how he was actually sorry and felt guilty for that. "I know you did. I trust you." You said, then you took his hand into yours. Feeling his cold skin against your warmth.

Astarion couldn't help but smile, taking both your hands into his. Feeling your warm embrace. "I... like this." He said, with an almost shy smile. "But, I honestly don't know what we're doing." He said with a small chuckle. "I know where we could start." You said with a smile. "Oh? And what would that be?" he asked with a grin. Then you got close to him and wrapped your arms around his waist. Astarion's arms were spread. Not sure on how to react, but he followed your lead. Also hugging you back, pulling you as close as possible to him. It felt good, being able to move from the guilt, to fall in love again.

ₚᵣₑᵥᵢₒᵤₛ ₚₐᵣₜ, ₙₑₓₜ ₚₐᵣₜ?

[shiny-jr]

🕷 impersonator [ miguel o’hara ] 

– Warning: Yes, this is a yandere thing. Gender-neutral reader.

– Note: It’s literally just a very small Miguel post to get it out of my mind. I’ve been wanting to write something with him for a while now, and I had a totally different draft with a whole story idea that would’ve lasted a few chapters, but ultimately I scrapped the whole idea and just decided to do something small. It ain’t much, but it’s honest work.

There was something wrong about being used to placate an unhinged man who called himself a hero. Maybe it was the passionate look on his anguished face whenever his red gaze was fixated on you, or the despair that seeped into his tone when he whispered sweet-nothings, or it was just your common sense that saw all the blaring red flags, but you knew this was wrong. Miguel may have declared to everyone that he was a good guy, a hero, quite possibly even to the point of deluding himself, but some of his choices were morally questionable, and criminal at best.

The glowing red sticky strings he used to form webs were probably stronger than the thin strand of what was left of his sanity. It must’ve been some sort of last-ditch effort by his fellow spiders to present you to Miguel O’Hara, perhaps to appease his growing anger and extremity. It’s like they had offered you up on a silver platter. You, who was shockingly similar to a loved one he lost in his own dimension. You were the poor pitiful bug caught in a spider’s web, with no hope to escape.

And at first, you hadn’t even realized your fate was sealed, you were already trapped. In your own dimension, he showed up. You knew Miguel, he was a scientist at Alchemax who was a bit of a nerd despite not looking like one, and he played soccer on the weekends. And yet, after months, you finally realized this wasn’t your Miguel.

Your Miguel would gladly partake in back-and-forths where you poked fun at each other, but that stopped and he began to give compliments to you of details he never once noticed before.

Your Miguel would peer at you through the lens of his glasses and smile while resting his head on the table, but he stopped wearing his glasses and instead he stared at you intensely while only smiling whenever your attention turned to him.

Your Miguel had brown eyes that looked like honey in the sun paired nicely with his pleasant smile, but recently his eyes looked almost red at night and when he smiled he displayed fangs.

On top of all this, he seemed to forget certain dates you had planned and sometimes the names of friends and loved ones escaped his memory. The first time this happened, for a split second, you swore you saw his expression drop and his eyes widen as an ominous frown appeared on his face. But when you blinked, his expression was back to normal, a relaxed smile on his lips. He brushed off his mistake and calmly explained that he remembers now, it just slipped his mind for a moment. Was it your imagination seeing that dark expression on his face, or was it real?

What was once fleeting affection with Miguel, like awkward glances where you accidentally made eye contact, or brief and shy kisses on the cheek, also began to change drastically. It all quickly morphed into something more intense. Gazes full of desire that glinted in those dark red eyes, deep kisses that you always stopped on the very point of no return, murmurs of promises to protect you that were said in a strangely solemn tone.

It became clear that something was wrong. The man you once loved wasn’t the same, as if he were a completely different person. This Miguel was not someone to be crossed. You would soon learn that once you confront him and claim to know he wasn’t your Miguel. Well, this Miguel had tried to smoothly integrate himself into your life. However, since that didn’t work, he could resort to other methods. Afterall, as Spider-Man, he had a reputation of being effective and forceful if need be.

[napakmahal]

I’d never dreamed that I’d meet somebody like you

Pairing: Hiro Hamada/reader

Trigger warnings: heavy talks of grief and loss, depression (chat unfortunately Tadashi has died in this one)

“I don’t get why we’re driving two hours away just for therapy.” Hiro was becoming pissed off at his aunt's insistence that he go to therapy at least once a week either in person or on the phone. He liked phone therapy better, the crackling audio made it easier to hide slight twinges in his voice.

“It’s part of your plan, remember? Your doctor said that’s how we get you the best care possible and you agreed to try it, remember?” Cass pressed. Of course Hiro remembered, he remembered how bad it pissed him off. Why couldn’t they just leave him alone? He said he was fine, that should have been enough.

In one month Hiro had been passed around to three different therapists of different genders, nationalities, and backgrounds to try and connect with him better. None of them worked and it was becoming increasingly clearer that one-on-one therapy just wasn’t for him. He didn’t talk and when he did he lied. Plus, one-on-one with somebody twenty years older than him who’d forgotten what it was like to be fifteen or said stupid shit like “he’s in a better place now.” wasn’t super helpful.

So enter group therapy. Just a big circle of teens talking about their problems like a pubescent al-anon. Hiro may have been pissed but Cass had a right to be concerned. With him not going to school he had nothing to occupy his time. She’d wake up early to open the cafe and he’d already be up on his phone. And she knew for a fact he wasn’t getting any sleep. He’d sleep all day and eat nothing before being up all night and eating anything that was quiet enough she wouldn’t hear him.

“Just seems kinda pointless.” He sighed and leaned back in the passenger seat. “I’m fine, everyone’s just being so dramatic.”

Cass didn’t respond to that. She just leaned over and grabbed onto her nephew’s hand and kissed his palm. “Did you take your drops today?”

“Mmhm.” Hiro lied.

After the blast an EMT on sight noticed that Hiro’s right ear was bleeding from the pressure while he was taken to the hospital for possible concussion. For weeks after that all he could hear was a persistent ringing but thankfully he hadn’t lost his hearing and the fall had hurt his shoulder blades more than it’d hurt his head. After his brain scan in the hospital his doctor had told him how lucky he was. Hiro swore that if he ever got diagnosed with a stroke, he’d pray he wasn’t his doctor.

They pulled up to another branch of their hospital and parked out front and just in the truck silently.

“Can we go home now?” Hiro spoke up.

Cass let out a breathy laugh and looked over at him. “The program lasts ten weeks, if you make it to five and still want out then okay. Deal?” She held out her hand.

Hiro thought about it for a moment. Five weeks of keeping his mouth shut and letting other people talk about their problems for an hour and a half sounded like a solid enough idea. So he and his aunt shook on it.

Five weeks, just gotta make it five weeks.

They walked into the building with Cass’s arm draped over Hiro’s still healing shoulders. The second they arrived at the receptionists desk a tablet was shoved in their faces. “Sit down, fill out the online questionnaire.”

The questions were always the same:

In the past week I felt mad: sometimes, always, never, often

I worried something bad might happen: sometimes, always, never, often

I felt like I couldn’t do anything right: sometimes, always, never, often

I or people around me participated in substance abuse: I did, my friends and I did, my parents did, none of the above

Have you ever been diagnosed antidepressants: yes or no

Have you made any attempt to commit suicide or thought of commiting suicide within the past week: yes or no

It took Hiro a total of seven minutes to complete the questionnaire without putting any thought into his answers. When it was the ‘parent/guardian’ portion Cass took forever to finish.

When the questionnaire was filled out, a woman in a blue blouse and a key card walked over to them. She asked with sweetness, “Hiro?”

She introduced herself as Dr. Yang and walked Hiro and Cass all the way to her personal office. The walls were covered with older teens graduation photos, kindergarten drawings, and fidget toys on her shelves.

“I know you’re here for group, but because your previous doctors told us that you’ve never done group therapy before I just wanna give you the low down. Is that okay?” Dr. Yang looked at Hiro. He just nodded with a smile. Of course it was okay, he was here wasn’t he? She explained about how some of the kids had been doing groups with her before and how privacy in group settings worked. Hiro was all fine listening to all the foundational stuff until she started getting too personal.

Dr. Yang looked directly at him. “So, Hiro. Can we just talk a little bit about why you’re here? I was informed by one of your previous doctors that your brother just passed away recently. I’m so sorry for your loss, I’m sure it was hard.”

“It’s okay, thanks.” Hiro finally spoke up. It wasn’t okay but it made everyone less uncomfortable if he just said it was okay. “But I guess I’ve just been like- sad for a while.”

“And that’s perfectly alright.”

That was the thing that pissed Hiro off the most. How his therapists would reassure him that it was okay to be sad. No shit it was okay to be sad, somebody died! He knew that and having people say that to him made him feel like he was being treated like an idiot.

The two of them talked for a bit until Dr. Yang sent him out of the office so she could speak with Cass alone. One therapist had invited her into the room to ask her about her perspective and she ended up basically sobbing–which Hiro felt really bad about. It just went to show that she’d been spending a shit-ton of time worrying about him yet nobody was really worried about her.

Hiro walked over to the room his group would be meeting. Waiting for the pre-meeting with Dr. Yang and his aunt to be over when he saw you already sitting there. You looked up towards the door at the sound of footsteps. You two exchanged smiles but didn’t say anything to each other and Hiro took the seat two chairs away from you. It was awkward.

“Are you new?” You asked, trying to break the silence.

Hiro paused as if he was shocked you were talking to him but answered. “Yeah, this is my first group therapy session.”

“Cool, cool.” You nodded.

Awkward silence again.

This time Hiro spoke up first. “I like your shoes.”

“Oh thanks. Yours are cool too.” You pointed to his sneakers. The laces obviously didn’t come with the shoes when he bought them. He must have replaced them but they looked kinda cool. The session didn’t start for another fifteen minutes. Fifteen minutes in that room in awkward silence sounded vile. “Do you want a lemonade pop? I know where they keep them.”

“Uhh, sure.” He agreed for the exact same reason you asked. The silence was deafening.

After you snuck your way into the first aid room and grabbed two lemonade pops from the freezer, you two sat down on the stool of one of the larger windows.

“So what are you here for?” You brought the frozen treat up to your lips.

Hiro was still trying to open his when he said, “Because I’m sad.”

“We’re all sad, you’ll fit right in.” You joked. Hiro genuinely let out a small laugh at that which felt nice. “No but pretty much everyone here is chill.”

“How many times have you done this?” He took a small scrape of the pop with his front teeth.

“This will be my second program and my last. I mostly know a lot of the other people here from school.” You shrugged. “Where do you go to school?”

He answered quickly, “I’m not in school right now.”

“Oh.”

Shit. Now you probably think he’s some kind of degenerate high school dropout.

“I just haven’t registered.” He added immediately after.

You licked the side of your pop to keep it from melting onto your clothes. “Did you move?”

“No, not exactly.” Hiro had realized he’d accidentally opened up a can of worms into his personal life for you.

Intrigued, you pressed him for more details. “What happened?”

“I got accepted somewhere, I just need to register.” Perfect, vague yet descriptive.

Damn. He must go to some kind of private school. Why else would he use the word accepted? You joked, “Damn rich people.”

Hiro nearly laughed. Rich? They were relatively low income and only saved thousands of dollars a year on car payments because he could fix their truck for free. Years ago after one of Cass’s friends paid her daughters 20,000 dollar tuition she told both Hiro and Tadashi that she would not be paying for any tuition. She’d pay for books, parking spots, and the occasional on campus meal. But never tuition. Just her luck Tadashi got his fifty-thousand dollar scholarship plus financial aid and Hiro got a full-ride. If he ever planned on using it.

“We aren’t rich, trust me.” He laughed to himself.

“Private school kids are rich to some degree.” You shrugged. Denying their richness is kind of a rich people thing to do.

His eyebrows contorted with confusion as he looked at you. “I didn’t get into a private school.”

“You said you were accepted.” Now it was your turn to be confused.

“Yeah, accepted to college.” He explained slowly.

You stared at him blankly. There was no way. “College? How old are you?”

“Fifteen.”

“Bullshit.” You shot immediately right after. “I don’t believe you. That’s bullshit. You are bullshit.”

A smile tugged further at Hiro’s lips. “I swear I’m not lying. I got accepted to SFIT.”

“Why are you really here? Is it actually because you’re a pathological liar?” You drilled. Graduating early wasn’t super uncommon but graduating early and getting accepted to a prestigious university like SFIT was insanity. “You’re telling me you graduated at fifteen and got accepted to a top school like SFIT?”

“Well I actually graduated at thirteen.”

“You are such a liar!” You reiterated once again. If he graduated at thirteen that must have meant he was nine when he started high school. No fucking way. “Prove it to me.”

“Well my acceptance letter is at home but sure I’ll show it to you.” He finished up his lemonade pop and licked the remaining ice chunk off the stick.

You scoffed. “And give you time to print a fake one out? No, the second you get home send me a picture of it.”

Just like that you exchanged phone numbers. While typing in each other's numbers Hiro realized this was the first time he’d laughed with someone in weeks and it actually felt really nice. But it was overridden by a feeling of guilt. Why did he feel so guilty? He just laughed with someone he found funny. Why did feeling a small bit of true joy after his brother's death make him feel so obnoxious? Almost like he was rubbing it in someone's face. Or like he was doing it to purposely hurt someone.

It’s weird thinking you know loss but then life gives you the finger and proves you wrong. Hiro lost both his parents, that’s plenty of loss for anyone. But he was only three when it happened so what did he really understand about it? Hiro has always been told he’s smart and rightfully so. With an IQ of roughly 210 it’s a correct assumption to make. But if losing his brother has taught him anything, it’s that he knows nothing about shit that really matters.

Hiro really hated the waves. A brochure on grieving a doctor had given him said that the heaviness of grief episodes will wax and wane. In good there will be bad but in bad there will be good. But it will never be the same. Talking with you actually felt like something that wasn’t soul crushing numbness but a wave of guilt and overthinking immediately followed it.

Nothing would ever be the same.

While Hiro was wrestling with such a random wave of heavy feelings you looked up from typing his number into your phone. “Wait, I just realized I don’t know your name.”

He snapped out of his small daze and looked you dead in the eyes. “Hiro,” He gave you a small smile and held out his hand for you to shake. “My name’s Hiro.”

You gracefully smiled back at him and shook his hand. “Nice to meet you Hiro. I’m y/n.”

[sc0tters]

The Best Favour Yet | Owen Power

summary: Kent asks Owen to help you settle in when you move to Buffalo, that favour ends up being the reason for some of your favourite memories with the love of your life.

request: yes/no

warnings: some allusions to sex.

word count: 2.1k

authors note: this request made me laugh because it literally said Owen dating Kent’s sister and all the chaos that would entail. Started writing this as a regular oneshot but I hated it so I’ve just made it a 5+1.

Kent never planned on this.

When he asked Owen to keep an eye on you once you got accepted at Buffalo State University. Kent never once let the thought of you falling for one of his best friends.

1. ❝he’s like totally harmless.❞

to PowPow 🔫: thanks for checking in with y/n I appreciate it

to y/n 👾: remember Owen is like totally harmless!

You were nervous to meet the boy, sure you had spoken to Owen in person before but it was never by yourself. Usually Kent was around for those moments as he didn’t want to let any of the guys think that they could have the chance to make a move on you.

Once they reached sophomore year you were merely just a name to them though as you were going to university in Florida.

A year of that was more than enough and you had transferred to Buffalo for your sophomore year.

But as the cold Buffalo breeze chilled your face as you clutched the sides of your jacket you began to lose hope “y/n!” Owen called out as he recognised your stature from anywhere.

Owen would never admit it but he did have the tiniest of crushes on you that he felt in his freshman year the first time he met you “hi Owen.” You smiled as you spun around to face him.

You looked up at him as he gave you a hug “I’ve got a few different restaurants in mine so whatever you-” the hockey player began to ramble as he didn’t realise that his nerves were showing.

It took you giving his hand a squeeze for him to calm down “you’re the local, I trust you Owen.” You nodded as you sent him a serious look to show that you were down for anything.

And that night you laughed so hard your stomach hurt and you even managed to make eating pizza look good because Owen looked at you like you were the only girl in the world.

2. ❝you’re a sabres fan now,❞

You had to say that you were surprised that it took Owen three weeks before he invited you to a Sabres game. Every time the game was in Buffalo you’d watch from your dorm window as fans lined the road up to the KeyBank Center.

So as you stood in the waiting area with WAGs and other members of the players friends and families you couldn’t help but wish you were back there in the comfort of your dorm.

Sure the people were nice but you weren’t one of them, you were meant to be a simple college kid “you made it!” Owens cheer pulled you out of your thoughts as he wrapped his arms around you.

The older players watched on in amusement as they pieced together why the umich alumni seemed so loved up over the past month “wouldn’t miss this for the world,” you smiled as him still having his skates on meant that you had to tilt your head up further to look at him.

He swore he was on cloud nine when he realised you were wearing the jersey that he had given you just days prior “you like the outfit?” You asked as you did a little spin so he could see your outfit in its whole.

Owen sucked at his teeth as he tried to remain calm seeing Power on your back “you’re a sabres fan now you know that right?” He teased as he had seen all of the Blue Jackets memorabilia from Kent that decorated your side of your dorm.

You shrugged as you ran your fingers through your hair “I’ve been called worse if I’m honest.” You joked causing him to let out a laugh.

A lightbulb seemed to go off above his head “you gotta meet the rest of the boys!” Owen wrapped his arm around your shoulder as he pulled you into the direction of more of his teammates.

3. ❝too good for this world,❞

On Tuesdays if you had late lectures Owen would pick you up and you’d spend the evening at his. Each time you’d take turns being head chef when it came to making meals.

This particular Tuesday it was your turn and you were making spaghetti bolognaise “Power don’t you dare!” You could see the smirk on his face as he leaned against the counter behind him.

Owen laughed as you continued to watch the pasta boil “I’m not doing anything.” He raised his hands in surrender as he pushed himself off of the counter as he walked over to you.

You scoffed as you shook your head “I can see it in your eyes that there is something up there.” You pointed to his head causing him to smile.

His hands landed on either side of you “are they telling you that I think you’re beautiful?” Owen asked letting his voice act like a gentle hum over the sound boiling pasta water.

Warmth spread over your cheeks as you tried to bury your face in his chest “I’m serious!” He laughed as his hands cupped your cheeks so he could continue to look at him.

Your tongue danced over your teeth “why me?” You let the question you had been wondering for weeks finally come out.

Owens cold thumb cooled your face as it softly rubbed circles on your cheek “because you’re perfect y/n,” the hockey player hadn’t told you about how he truly felt before.

He sighed when you shook your head “I wish you’d see that you’re too good for this world sweets.” Owen confessed as he let his head drop so that his lips barely hovered over your own.

The air around you went silent “what about dinner?” You statement had to be pushed out of your lips.

It made Owen smirk “I can be done before that pasta is ready.” He proposed as he turned the heat down a setting.

That seemed to be all you needed to carry on “let’s not waste anytime then.” You shrugged before his hand was on your jaw letting him kiss your lips.

4. ❝I’ll count to three,❞

It had been two months since you started dating Owen. Besides for your close friends nobody else knew and that was because you two didn’t know how to tell Kent.

Your brother knew you had a boyfriend because you had been in the process of soft launching your relationship on Instagram, but all of those questions were met with coy answers.

So when the long awaited day came around when the Blue Jackets were playing in Buffalo you knew you had to tell your brother.

But that morning when your mind was full of clouds as you were still half asleep you didn’t think twice when you opened the door to Owens apartment in nothing more than one of his shirts.

Kent on the other hand was shocked to see his sister stood in his friend’s apartment “where is Owen?” He asked as he furrowed his eyebrows.

That was what seemed to wake you up “oh Ken-” you stammered over your words as your eyes widened “babe who is there?” Owen called out from the kitchen.

You couldn’t rack your brain for what to say “it’s Kent!” That seemed to get the right response out of Owen as he came out to the entryway.

The Blue Jackets player really didn’t know what to do “you just called my sister babe?” Kent honestly zoned out once he heard you get that title.

Owen could see the upset look on his friends face “let’s just talk about th-” he awkwardly scratched the back of his neck “I’ll count to three because I like you.” Kent cut him off as he walked into the apartment.

You let your lips swirl in as your eyes went wide “baby?” Owen looked to you for help as Kent got to one “run and lock a door.” You proposed as your brother got to two.

Part of you watched in amusement as Owen ran to the end of the hall when Kent got to three.

5. ❝wrapped around her finger,❞

Kent loved you, truly you were his little sister that he wanted to protect in bubble wrap. So it wasn’t surprising that it took him four months to be okay with the idea of going on holiday with you and Owen.

That was until your brother was reminded of the fact that you were going to be sleeping in a bed with your boyfriend.

Quickly the relaxing holiday turned into one that he didn’t get sleep in “morning baby,” you smiled as you found your boyfriend stood in the kitchen making coffee.

Owen was quick to swipe away from you “I brushed my teeth,” you pointed out as you smelt your breath wondering if that was the problem “what if he sees?” Owen whined as he still seemed to be scared of Kent’s threats “they are both still sleeping.” You grumbled as you pouted your lips not enjoying the fact that your boyfriend was ignoring you.

That was a sight that Owen truly couldn’t say no to so he placed the coffee mug down on the counter causing you to smile “always getting what I want,” you pointed out.

Owen nodded “my baby got me wrapped around her finger for days.” He never did seem to mind admitting that you just how whipped he was.

Your hands wrapped around his waist “think you should show me that then,” you proposed as just as his lips touched yours Kent had to walk in “I do not need to be made an uncle on this trip please?” He begged as he scrunched his face in disgust even once you had pulled away from Owen.

A laugh left your lips “but wouldn’t we be such cute parents daddy?” You let the words fall out of your mouth like butter.

Both Owen and Kent’s eyes went wide. Of course your boyfriend could see the mischievous look on your face and it clearly meant you were doing this to screw with your brother “you’ve got two seconds to get your hands off of-” Kent didn’t even need to finish his sentence before Owen listened and took two steps away from you.

A frown formed on your face “you’re no fun,” you mumbled as you looked at the Sabres player.

“it’s hard to be when you’re trying to get me killed!

+ 1 ❝what’d you say?❞

The last three years had been a whirlwind, whilst you hadn’t made Kent an uncle just yet you and Owen had your fair share of pregnancy scares that you both agreed were secrets you’d take to your grave.

With each day that went by you found yourself falling deeper in love with him. You had the house, the pets, and the love so there was only really two things left on that checklist.

Bless Owen for being clueless but you spent the last three months trying to hint at the wedding ring you liked but that seemed to just fall on deaf ears.

So now you took matters into your own hands as you watched him get ready for boys night “baby,” you sang as you were sat on your bed watching him pick an outfit for tonight.

Owen continued looking through his clothes as he smiled “yes?” He asked wondering what it was that you wanted to ask him “I want to marry you.” You announced as you swung your legs against the frame of your bed.

You had truly never seen him stop what he was doing that fast before “what’d you say?” Owen looked like he had seen a ghost as he walked over to you.

It made you confused “just said I wanted to marry you.” You shrugged as you watched him lean over to his bedside table drawer as he pulled out a velvet box “was gonna ask you this weekend.” He pointed out as he revealed what looked like the ring of your dreams.

A gasp left your lips “you were?” You knew he was taking you on a mini trip to Canada so that you two could go stay in the mountains for a week as it was the start of the off season.

He nodded as he sat next to you “pretty sure I can take this as a yes then?” Owen joked as he placed a kiss to your temple seeing the tears form in your eyes.

You smiled as you let out a sniffle “don’t get it twisted I asked first!”

[cup1dxzs]

Paint It Blue

Sally Face X Reader

Chapter One- New Beginnings

Thud.

The sound of your luggage hitting the concrete floor brought you no comfort. It was a dull reminder of what you had to already leave behind, friends, after school clubs, and what little family you had left.

“Y/n! Hurry up, it's cold out here!”

The sound of Adrian, your brother, shouting was motivation, if that’s what you could even call it, to pick up the rest of your luggage which was two suitcases in total.

You wouldn’t say you weren’t bitter at the situation but you wouldn’t say you were totally cool about it. Moving states was a big deal, especially when you’ve never done anything of the sort but you understood why it was necessary. With your brother being your only legal guardian and sole caretaker he had to assume a lot of responsibility and that included keeping a roof over your guys head, it would’ve been fine if your aunts and uncles hadn’t decided to stop sending money claiming that the two of you were ‘leeching off of them and using the death of your parents as an excuse to be even lazier.’ As much as it bugged you that they’d even think to say that, a part of you wished it were true, that way you could have stayed in your hometown with your friends.

Now in Nockfell county you supposed you had to make the best of it even if this town seemed to be dead, the gloom and doom environment seemed to be enhanced as you stared at the sign.

Addison Apartments.

The building itself gave off an eerie vibe, almost as if you didn’t belong but the entire town felt like that so was it really much of a difference? The sound of your feet dragging against the concrete was the only other sound you heard apart from Adrian grumbling about something that you weren’t too interested in hearing nor knowing about.

Stepping into the building you immediately took notice of the stale smell. Oddly enough, the memories of visiting your grandmother in the retirement home filled your mind for a brief second. You missed the old hag even if she was a witch most of the time, you’d considered it to be tough love because she was the only person that really listened to you, apart from the fact she’d forget it all and yell at you to go grab her dentures.

“We’re in room 404, take the key and I'm gonna introduce myself to the owner.” Adrian spoke in a nonchalant manner, it was obvious no one was thrilled to have to move away and let alone into these dingy apartments. Taking the key from his hand you’d spot an elevator further down the hall and begin making your way towards it.

Stepping inside you took notice of all the floors, it was five in total. Pressing the fourth floor button the sound of a small ding went off as the doors closed, the elevator was old and you could hear it in the way as it went. It was creaky and loud, it could have also been considered whisp-y in the sense that you would have sworn that you heard people whispering. The thought made you feel dumb so you didn’t question it any further, until you swore that you had heard your name being called but by then the elevator opened and you stepped out, giving one last glance back inside out of curiosity you were met with nothing.

Shrugging you looked down the hall and spotted an almost black hallway, you knew it was the hallway where your now new home was because of the silver plaque labeled 403. Obviously you knew your room was just on the other side. Letting your eyes wander to the end of the hall was probably the most interesting part of seeing what the room looked like-

What the fuck is that.

Your hand gripped your luggage until your knuckles turned white. You were staring at a black figure with eyes redder than blood, it stood there and appeared to almost be watching you, clearing your throat you spoke up. Mostly due to the fact that this was possibly your new neighbor and you were already making a shitty impression by just staring at them like they were a freak and without even saying a word. Even if they were a little freaky looking.

“He-hello…you? I’m Y/N, I live in 404.” Your voice faltering while you spoke made you slightly cringe but you didn’t really care, the silence was eating at you while you stared at them. You slightly jumped when they walked to room 403, opened the door and just disappeared without saying a word to you or even acknowledging your failed attempt at trying to converse with them. Fair enough, you’ll try harder next time.

“Can’t win ‘em all, I guess…” Mumbling to yourself, you’d drag your stuff behind you and made your way to your apartment. The journey of getting there took way longer than you would have actually liked but it didn’t really matter anyways because you could finally just crash out and do nothing for the rest of the week.

You started your first day at a new school on Monday, today was Tuesday. Plenty time to unpack and mentally prepare yourself for your new and hopefully exciting life.

Walking into the room it was bland, no feeling that made it feel like home but you didn’t mind because as long as Adrian was there the two of you could make it feel comfortable in due time. You saw that the apartment had two rooms, a bathroom, kitchen, and of course a living room with just a single couch and other home goods provided.

Tossing your stuff to the floor you made a beeline for the couch and just threw yourself onto it, it was bouncy and comfortable so now you knew what you were going to be doing for the afternoon.

——— ——— ——— ——— ——— ——— ——— ——

To say that was going to be a quick Power Nap you’d be lying to yourself, you woke up sweaty and not knowing who or when you were. You knew your brother had been inside already because of the boxes that laid on top of each other. Unpacking was going to be fairly easy and quick due to the fact that there wasn’t much to unpack between the two of you. Moving away had been so sudden that all you could take were the clothes on your backs and other bare necessities.

Sitting up while simultaneously wiping the sweat from your brow, reaching for your phone in your pocket you’d check for the time.

“5:30 AM? Guess I was really tired.” You groggily state, kicking your feet off the side of the couch and looking around. Soon spotting one of the doors was open just ajar, assuming Adrian was in there you’d slowly approached it.

The room was dark so even when you peeked your head through it, it was hard to tell what was what. Stepping inside you saw Adrian asleep on a bed.

‘The rooms already have beds? Why didn’t I check…’

You thought grumpily as you walked inside and grabbed a blanket that had been discarded onto the floor and covered Adrian with it, half ass-ing as you tucked him into bed. Walking out the room, you literally had nothing to do since nothing was close to being unpacked and it was the ass crack of dawn.

“Time to explore this shit hole I guess…”

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Hey guys i definitely wasn’t gone for over a year and just dropping a fic from a different fandom *gulp*

Anyways on a different note I am back so I hope you enjoy this, love you all! 😽😽

-ChillyKitty

[swimmingismywholelife]

For the First Time

Summary: At the top of the London Eye, Christian realizes for the first time that he's fallen in love.

Warnings: Fluff

Word Count: 1.2K

A/N: Kind of a prequel to What Kind of Future but can be read as a stand alone. Inspired by "You Can" David Archuleta. Yeah uh this is fluff but highkey this pained me to write. I miss you.

"'Cause if anyone can make me fall in love you can."

"Please please please please please can we go on the Ferris wheel?" you begged your boyfriend.

"Y/N, that line is so long! We can always go at a different time," Christian complained.

"Chris, when is the next time both of us are gonna have a day off like this?" you replied giving him the puppy dog eyes and pouting slightly. "I know you don't wanna wait, but just this once. Please? For me?"

Christian sighed. You were right. This was the first time in weeks that the two of you had the same day off, and he took full advantage of it. You'd had small dates in the apartment the two of you shared, but he was excited to finally take you out to do something. And despite how much he hated going into London proper, he knew how much you loved it.

That's how you got to this point. You two were out exploring and doing tourist things when you'd seen the London Eye in the distance. You adored Ferris wheels, but you'd never been to the famous one despite how long you'd been in England. It was something you'd always wanted to experience, and you especially wanted to share that moment with your very stubborn boyfriend.

"Fine, but you totally owe me," he said reluctantly.

You squealed in excitement immediately hugging him around the neck. He wrapped his arms around your waist in response chuckling at how cute you were. Christian really didn't want to wait in line, but the moment he saw the smile on your face he knew he couldn't resist.

"Thank you thank you thank you! I promise it'll be super fun!" you exclaimed, pecking his cheek before practically dragging him towards the never ending line.

Fortunately for Christian, the line went by a lot faster than he expected. He was recognized by a few people who asked for pictures, but for the most part people had left you alone, something Christian greatly appreciated. As much as he loved his fans and appreciated their support, today wasn't about them. This was about spending time with the person he loved most even if she'd roped him into standing on a ridiculously long line for a Ferris wheel.

"I'm so excited!" you exclaimed when the two of you finally got into a capsule. "It's such a beautiful day too! I bet the view of London is so pretty from up here!"

"But nothing will ever be as pretty as you baby," Christian winked.

"I'm not sure if I wanna cringe or blush but I'll let it slide because you agreed to this," you replied.

Christian's heart warmed at the sight of you. He'd never seen such a smile on your face before despite how many months you'd been together. Your happy mood was contagious, making the day seem that much brighter. Your excitement increased as the capsule rose higher into the sky, squealing lightly to yourself and kicking your feet below you. You were like a little kid in a candy store, and Christian swore he'd never seen something more adorable.

This was an experience you'd dreamed about since coming to England. Something about being able to overlook the city and realize just how big the world around you is had always been incredibly humbling and inspiring to you. To others it was super mundane. After all, you were in England. There were so many other things you could be doing.

"Thank you for coming with me Christian," you said softly after a while, the wind gently blowing your hair around your face. "I know you really didn't wanna do this, but I really appreciate you saying yes more than you know."

He leaned over and moved the hair out of your face.

"Of course. I'd do anything for you Y/N," he said seriously with a gentle smile on his face. You beamed at him, anticipating the eventual stop at the top that you knew was approaching soon.

Christian had never been in love before. He'd had a few flings here and there, but he was always more focused on his football career than he was about being in a serious relationship. He considered himself to be pretty inexperienced in the whole love department.

"Dee," he asked his sister one day when they were facetiming.

"What's up brother of mine?" she answered.

He hesitated a bit before asking, "How do you know when you're in love with someone?"

Christian had to quickly cover his ears to protect his hearing from his sister's screaming.

"You're in love with Y/N???" she asked excitedly.

"That's the thing Dee. I have no idea. How am I supposed to know? What am I supposed to do?" he sighed.

Devyn smiled at her brother, glad to see he found someone who made him so happy.

"I wish I could tell you Chris, but there's no way to logic it out. You can read all the books and watch all the movies but there's not really a method or anything like that. If you're in love with her, then you'll know when the time is right."

The moment the capsule stopped moving, so did his heart. You let out a gasp, taking in the beautiful scenery below you. You immediately grabbed for your phone wanting to capture the London skyline. Meanwhile, Christian grabbed for his own phone. But rather than taking pictures of London, he found an even more beautiful sight to photograph: you. You noticed and hid slightly behind your hair.

"Christian I look ugly!" you whined.

"You could never look ugly even if you tried babe," he waved off your concerns trying to focus his camera on you. "But I wanna be able to have proof that you checked this off your bucket list."

"Oh wait! I have an idea!" you exclaimed. "You take a picture of me taking a picture of you!"

He laughed. "Babe, why would we do that when the phones would block our faces anyway?"

"We could have matching pictures!" you responded shyly. "I don't know, it just seems like it would be a cute picture or something. Like taking coupley pictures at the top of a Ferris wheel."

Christian felt his heart skip a beat. You were just so unbelievably cute and he would do anything if it meant keeping that smile on your face.

He rolled his eyes jokingly. "Okay, we can take your pictures."

You grinned, prepping your phone.

"Okay ready? Say cheese even though we won't see each other's faces!"

He couldn't help but smile anyway. He always did whenever you were around.

"Let's see what these pictures look like!" you said excitedly. "These are cute Christian! I'm gonna post these on everything!"

Golden hour had just struck, the wind gently blowing your hair. Your eyes sparkled as you scrolled through the pictures you'd just taken and Christian couldn't help but stare how incredibly beautiful you looked. You were truly glowing and Christian wondered if you were an angel God had sent him.

Time seemed to have stopped. He could faintly hear the sounds of the city below him. He could just make out the feeling of the sun on his skin. But the only thing that really had his attention was you. And in that very moment, Christian knew. Just as his sister had told him, it just happened. And he just knew.

Taglist: @neverinadream ​ @pulisicsgirl ​ @masonsrem ​ @masonspulisic ​ @bracedes ​ @lizzypotter14 ​ @notsoattractivearenti ​ @thoseboysinblue ​ @mortirolo ​ @lovelynikol16 ​ @chelseagirl98

[dragondemoness]

Everyone's favorite adorable nurse Mikan tsumiki with a boyfriend who's a total tsundere towards her. Like he just seems to flip flop like shell give him some shy affection but he'll snap at her but when she begins to pull away he's like "I didn't say stop" while blushing up a storm. And he's also weirdly affectionate towards her at times and assertive about it too like how Mikan was during her assertive disease fiasco.

Mikan Tsumiki with a Tsundere but Assertive Boyfriend

Well, this is an... Interesting dynamic you two have

Mikan could never figure out whether or not you hated her guts

You greeted her harshly whenever she approached you, but you also seemed to hang around the nurse's office a lot whenever she was there

Plus, she started finding random, but cute gifts in her office that she suspected was your doing

But of course, you denied it whenever she brought it up

She couldn't believe YOU of all people gave HER of all people a gift, but she couldn't complain

Neither of you two confronted your feelings for a while, but Mikan eventually worked up the courage to ask you out

And after receiving a begrudging, but incredibly blushy "Sure, why not" from you, it was official

And naturally, given your astronomically different personalities, people did a double take when they saw you with Mikan

Some of them even questioned if she was even happy with you, given how coldly you treated her

But Mikan liked you, and she didn't care

Though she still found it hard to figure out where you stood with her

Sometimes you just brushed her off, though you never insulted her like you did with other people

But other times, whenever you two were alone, you'd randomly pull her into her arms without a single word

It definitely caught her off guard a few times, but she knew to keep her mouth shut and enjoy the moment

She definitely enjoys seeing that side of you a lot though

But one time, she decided to initiate it herself

After asking for permission to cuddle with you and only receiving a grunt in return, she shyly climbed up into your lap and wrapped her arms around you"

Th-This is really nice..."

"Whatever, the only reason I'm tolerating this is so you would stop stuttering so much."

"O-Oh, um... I-I'm sorry, I'll just..."

But as she began to stand back up, you placed a firm hand on hers, immediately causing her to stop in place

"...I don't remember telling you to stop. Get back to where you were."

"Huh? B-But I thought..."

"Did I stutter? Here. Now."

"O-Okay!"

And she immediately curled back into you with no further arguments

Even though you had your arms tightly locked around her, she was able to slightly lean up to look at your face

And she swore that she saw a hint of red, but you quickly pulled her head into your shoulder before she could make sure

After that, your affectionate moments appeared more often, along with your assertive attitude

Especially whenever Mikan is stressed out from her nursing job

Though you're a bit more gentle during those days, but you didn't hear that from me

You still get a lot of looks, a lot of whispering, and a lot of questions, especially from Mikan's friends

But do either of you care? Of course not

Regardless of how rough and cold you seem, Mikan knows how you really are in private

And that's all that really matters to her

[visionarystoryteller]

Get Down Tonight || Roman Reigns

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚. ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚. ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚. ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚. ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.

Inspired by ‘Get Down Tonight’ by KC and The Sunshine Band

Warnings: Implied smut

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚. ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚. ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚. ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚. ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.

X Reader - You

Roman Reigns - The Tribal Chief - Leati ‘Joe’ Anoa’i

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚. ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚. ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚. ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚. ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.

It was one of the bigger executives idea to throw a disco themed party about 2 weeks before Summerslam. Everyone was still stressed from the last pay per view and needed some unwinding before they all snapped and caused serious injury to themselves or each other at summerslam.

You weren’t talent per say, well not athletically speaking. You were one of the few interviewers that traveled between Raw and Smackdown. It was tiring but it was a fun job to be close to different talents all the time. You had grown quite close to the smackdown talents, some say even close with the one and only Tribal Chief, Roman Reigns. You had started your job the same day he had returned from being home for the worlds shutdown of the coronavirus. He was all tall and brooding with an air of confidence and power that nearly knocked you on your ass the first time you interviewed him. His deep voice that held a small tone of sultry, god was it heaven. Then there was his facial hair that just complimented his chiseled face, the gods had taken their time with him. After the show had closed that night, he and his cousins, introduced themselves properly, totally different from some of the other talents who seemed to maintain character even after the show needed. While the twins and Solo seemed to follow him wherever he may go, you two still managed to get closer, which was a surprise to his cousins as during shutdown, he finalized his divorce and swore off looking at women and pursuing anything…boy how was he wrong when you came into the picture. Something with you just struck him and slowly over time on camera, the tension shifted and fans noticed how he was with you. He even made sure you traveled as their personal interviewer because Joe wouldn’t talk with anyone else. All noticed by their colleagues.

So here you were, meeting the bloodline at the party, dressed in a fringe silver dress that made you feel absolutely beautiful.

Joe entered the banquet hall with the twins, Jon and Josh along with Sefa. Joes eyes scanned the hall, no doubt looking for you. You were being pulled around by different people, mingling, trying to catch your own glimpse to see if Leati was here. He may have seemed liked he hated being called by his first name, as most addressed him as Joe, but when you said it he loved it. You both had caught glimpses of each other the whole night it seemed liked, never crossing paths. That was until the music finally played. That was when the real party had started.

The room filled with the guitars of Kc and the Sunshine Bands ‘Get Down Tonight’. Joe looked across the dance floor that was becoming more filled with people and caught your eyes.

“Honey-honey, me and you

And do the things, ah, do things that we like to do”

Sefa watched as his older cousin had his eyes locked on you and signaled the twins to watch. Joe, completely ignoring his family, rose his finger and called to you with the ‘come here’ motion. The two of you like moths to a flame found each other. Joe reach his hand out to you, you put it in his own, and he spun you to him, the fringes of your dress going crazy with the movement. Joe looked down at you, having your back to his chest.

“Y/N” he whispered in sultry to you.

“Leati” you reply breathlessly, before he spins you back out, arms length away.

“Baby-baby, I’ll meet you- same place, same time

Where we can get together, and ease up our mind”

You and Joe moved fluidly to the music, his hands on your waist every chance he got to help move your hips to the beat.

Everyone around you was aware of how engrossed you two looked with one another. It was as of if the rest of the world ceased to exist.

The way your body moved and rolled along with Joes was erotic on its own, but was only heightened with the looks he kept giving you.

With your back to his chest as the line of the song ‘get down tonight’ replayed you swung your hips low to the floor with your arms still touching and reaching for him behind you. Joe reached down and picked you up with ease, tossing you in the air to turn you around and caught you, right leg instinctively wrapping around his hip and thigh. Joe looked down at you to see you looking at him with hooded eyes before dipping you back to watch you roll back up to his chest, his hand caressing your back the whole time before holding you to him before repeating the process once more and keeping you a little always away from his face.

“You keep rolling your body like that and I will bend you over the closest table in front of all our colleagues “ Joe rasped quietly to you. You looked at him with doe eyes.

“Maybe I want you to Leati” you whisper as the song starts coming to a close. Joes jaw ticks as he looks at you with dark eyes. Joe brings his face to you neck and bite behind your ear, the process being covered by both of your hairs, so no one could see. You let out a moan that was almost noticeable to everyone else around as the song died down.

“You better get the pretty ass down tonight for me” Joe whispered as the song ended and kept you close. You looked into his eyes and nodded.

Everyone who watched you two dance clapped and couldn’t stop talking about the two of you, but the two of you didn’t pay attention as Joe whisked you put the banquet hall out to the suv and got you in before getting in himself.

“Oh, do a little dance, make a little love

Get down tonight”

[littleeyesofpallas]

I have always loved this final(ish) boss design in Wild Arms 2nd Ignition so I'm just gonna babble for a bit here, apropos of nothing. So, spoilers I guess(?) for a quarter of a century year old game --I think it's still available on the PlaystationStore, but obviously emus are always an option. Large flightless Australian birds are crafty like that.

Even though, design-wise, a good chunk of it falls in line with pretty standard JRPG angelic monster/grotesque angel/now-your-teen-hero-fights-god motifs, it was just so out there in terms of lore.

The game starts with you gathering a band of heroes --A fresh faced army recruit, a grizzled war hero, a magical girl, a sacrificial martyr, a brooding anti-hero, and an optional vampire-- to fight an evil organization out to take over the world.

The evil organization, Odessa, declares that the world is changing, monsters are popping everywhere, and the kingdoms of the world do nothing about it, and so they threaten that if kings and queens and politicians cannot or will not do anything about it, then Odessa will conquer their kingdoms, seize their resources and manpower, and they will fix the problem thru unilateral authority.

But while there is a certain righteous anger behind their manifesto, they of course end up attacking innocent civilians, staffing themselves with war criminals and homicidal lunatics, sacrificing people to summon demons, using the monsters they claim to want gone as weapons, and ultimately trying to threaten the world's governments into submission with a nuke that is also a dragon...

So you smack their four generals around, corner their boss in his giant flying fortress, and then when he knows he's done for he tries to launch himself and the heroes into space to kill them all. It mostly fails, in so much as your party escapes the fortress, but the protagonist stays behind like the big damn hero that he is and consequently dies in space... He gets better tho, don't worry.

But then comes the sort of inverted 3rd act twist --instead of all hope being lost and then a reveal saves the day, everything seems like we should be done with the world ending threats and the world should be safe, until it's revealed that it is very much not-- an alternate universe is colliding with this one, and has been the whole time...

What that really means and how that works and how to envision that is left meaningfully abstract. Metaphorically the other world threatens to "devour" theirs, but it's not clear what that consumption even means... The slowly merging realities are actually why those monsters Odessa swore to eradicate had been appearing at all, and as the two alternate realities collide, the shape of the extra dimensional invasion isn't just a flood of monsters, but that the very nature of reality in this other world will come to replace this one.

Also in a cool throw back to the original Wild Arms, in which the extraterrestrial demon invasion the kicks off the game's plot is heralded by the sky cracking and chipping away, when the protag recovers from his whole died-in-space situation, he awakens to a literally unfamiliar, alien sky... a shifting, sloshing, iridescent acid trip looming over a doomed planet.

In fact the terrorist threat that had consumed so much of the heroes efforts until now was part of an elaborate long con by a certain wealthy would-be-hero out to save the world from the existential threat of total annihilation... The same man who recruited your heroes to fight terrorist in the first place.

Convinced that the world governments would be too fickle and petty to set aside their differences and personal interests to combat something as incomprehensible as (another)reality itself, he actually funded the terrorist organization in order to scare the world into cooperation against something much more concrete and straight forward --or, if international cooperation really did prove impossible, then as an owner of the new dictatorial world government, he'd simply make Odessa to save the world for him.

(A Note: The whole thing has strong american cape comic energy running thru it, specifically Watchmen and DC's Crisis on Infinite Earths.)

But then even his Xanatos gambit falls just short of saving the world in the final stages, and he's pushed into a corner. It turns out that even after tricking the nations of the world into allowing him access to harnessing the raw life force of the planet itself, the life force of a planet with a dying ecosystem just isn't enough to contain this hungry eldritch reality. So, in a last ditch effort he turns to the raw energy of creation, the miracle of life itself, to contain the menace and shackle it to a tangible reality in which it can be fought and killed... and so in a prison of otherworldly flesh contained in the belly of the earth itself, you confront the alternate universe in the form of an unborn child, and with his mind speaking thru it he tells you to kill him.

Anyway, yeah, that's you end up in a big red meat room fighting a vaguely angelic baby in an orb.

Immediately the thing that jumps out is, "Hey, that's the Starchild from 2001: A Space Odyssey!" Which is of course, very cool because everyone loves an unnerving weird fetus. But when it comes to JRPGS and weird fetuses, and incomprehensible reality destroying menaces, of course, the first thing to come to mind is Gigyas in Earthbound.

But more over, I really love that --where as, by point of comparison, there have been questionable theories about the layout of the Devil's Machine dungeon map looking like a womb, piggybacking off Giygas's ultrasound looking fetus shadow pattern-- the rest of the boss form surrounding the little Starchild core actually do appear to be modeled off a reproductive system, complete with ovaries and fallopian tubes, even going so far as to include the fimbriae as stylized angelic wings.

And I like the odd little detail that, because most babies develop upside down, the design with the fetus upright seems to have taken that into account by also rotating the reproductive anatomy accordingly? The baby is upright, so the organs are upside down.

Plus, even though it's not how fallopian tubes look in a real body, most anatomical diagram will show them as having this kind of flared arc over and around the ovaries beneath them, but the wings of the Kupier core arc under the two green orbs approximating ovaries. All that just to say that the big metal golden halo structure hanging under the core is technically oriented toward the "top" of the implied anatomy.

Also the game has a whole big subplot about a Christlike martyr --as an extension of the broader themes of heroism, and what it really means to be a hero-- and there is even a moment just before this final dungeon where Irving refers to his sister, the mother carrying this alternate reality made flesh, as "The Madonna of Destruction"... That all being context to support that, although it can be hard to notice or discern meaningful details on, that weird little fetus is definitely wearing what I can only assume is a crown of thorns.(I mean, that or it could be a pair of little devil horns? but I find that a less interesting alternative) Because he was, after all, conceived(although not so immaculately...) so that he could die to save the world.

Also not at all related to any fun themes or anything but I like how there's this big mouth it's seated in, that I only just realized has a "bottom" jaw to it. The top teeth are most noticeable and go around the front and sides, and I always kinda assumed they were a nod to the whole vagina dentata myth, but on a scale and at an angle that would've been imperceptible thru the blur of a CRT, there's definitely 4 little teeth normally hidden by the glare of the little uterus bubble

Oh and I didn't even get into the name itself being named after the Kuiper Belt, the asteroid belt around our real world solarsystem, as a play into some other astronomical terminology the story borrows from; namely the event horizon of a blackhole being referred to as the thing sealing away the mythic evil demon that started the whole world decay thing that makes the setting a desert wasteland in the first place, and became the wrench in the aforementioned plan to harness the planet's life force as a weapon against the parallel universe.(that ancient evil demon is the actual/surprise final boss of the game after this fight, btw...) There's so much more going on just in general, but that doesn't really play into the way this boss mosnters looks or why.

[ac-liveblogs]

Manshine City vs Bastard Munchen Part 2 "Oops I stopped Reading For Two Weeks" Edition

Last time: Nagi stood underneath Reo's window with a boombox and asked him to take him back. Reo, who swore he didn't need Nagi and was going to do this for HIMSELF, flings himself out the window.

I do like that Isagi is trying to master-mind the field 'oooh I can predict your every move!', theoretically Kaiser is doing the exact same thing, and they still fail to account for each other and completely fuck up their Pro Strats. I swear, Kaiser is just if the Isagi That Plays Soccer existed off the field as well as on it.

GOD Reo's inner monologue. "We split up once... we followed different paths..." ONE it's been like a month absolute tops TWO I maintain that Reo and Nagi exist in a totally different genre than the rest of the cast.

(Tbh I'm a little disappointed the Reo-Nagi drama seems to have resolved so easily, though there might still be tension outside of the field. I doubt Nagi's going to try and split up with Reo again at this point. Gotta wrap up these character arcs and move on, save the real meat for Episode Nagi in 4 years. Which is a shame, because given how batshit things were back in Blue Lock Reo absolutely Losing It was one of the things I was looking forward to most. What, he can't be too crazy in the insane soccer manga?)

Kaiser and Isagi, you two are my only hope... I need a murder attempt, c'mon...

I don't know enough about soccer to say if a two-stage volley is an 'insane, godly move' but I think a 5-stage anything has got to be pretty impressive. Who knew Nagi could be bothered to count that high. (I know Nagi didn't actually punt Isagi in the face but it sure looked like it, I was taken aback for a second.)

I love the way Nagi's 'ego' manifests on the pitch too, it's great. Gets really hyped up for a little bit of a game, gets super intense, trashtalks like a champ, I am a GOD routine, scores an absolutely insane fucking goal, goes 'yep that's all I wanted' and powers down mid-game. It's not over yet but he did what he came for! He's just like me forreal

"If not for the simple fact that Nagi doesn't know how to play this game, he would be unstoppable!!!" - Reo Mikage, probably

Agi... Reo... guys... chill

Chris' absolute lack of class is the funniest thing about him. This match is being televised, don't go calling your opponent a slut again.

Isagi "I have every tool I need to beat Kaiser except actually being better at this game than him!" Yoichi

Noa's just watching his team burn around him like "hmm. Excellent."

Chigiri throwing his hat into the 'dumb eye power' ring with a truly outstanding entry.

I know Kunigami is in this game, it just really doesn't feel like Kunigami is in this game. The match is losing track of Chigiri as well, I got a little surprised when he popped back up. I know the lack of synergy is on purpose due to the 'every man's either out for himself or the guy he's mentally ill about' aspect/'build your team around the striker' philosophy, but it does make the teams feel really uneven when the only characters that tend to matter are the Strikers + whoever's supporting them at the moment. It wasn't so bad when they were playing with limited teams, but right now half the teams feel like total space filler.

(The whole 'guaranteed shot' thing feels a bit... insulting to the concept of goalies/defense players too. I don't know much about soccer but it does feel like a major dick move LOL. To be fair, Gagamaru is not a goalie. Does Bastard Munchen not have a goalie better at goal-keeping than 'guy with hard head that doesn't play this role normally'.)

But yeah seriously Kunigami went to an ambiguous soccer torture camp to get his whole personality destroyed and for what. This? He doesn't even get to pretend to be the biggest threat on the field for even one game. Give that man a refund. Or at least some free therapy.

"go... the world's most random shot... even i don't know where it's going!!!" that is NOT impressive that's what i do every time I kick a ball. maybe i should be a pro soccer player. i could beat noel noa

Isagi has some nerve being shocked that Yukimiya is sabotaging him because ~they're on the same team~ yeah okay whatever dude and what was your end-goal here again

man, these matches just keep getting longer and longer despite the fact that they're aiming for way less goals...

[writingseaslugs]

Scarabia: Holiday Special

Normally Scarabia is hard for me to write…but today I kinda got carried away. Jamil’s part could've gotten longer if I had the time. I had ideas for that one for no reason. It was fun to write though! Hope you enjoy your Scarabia boys!

Disclaimer: All characters in this series are aged up. For more information about my version of this world and the type of reader you can expect, please do a quick read of THIS post.

Scarabia: A White Winter

Scarabia’s dorm never really got cold unless it was night; it was a literal desert, after all. This posed a few problems when all you wanted to do was spend a white winter with a particular boy. You even made mention of it, and Kalim got the grand idea of renting a cabin off in a different town for the winter break, and you were being dragged along for the ride. 

Kalim Al-Asim

Kalim was full of surprises, so when he showed up to your home a few days back, telling you that he was dragging you off to a cabin in the mountains to experience a white winter, you knew it would be a good time. You packed your warmest clothes and anything else you’d need before meeting him in the hall of mirrors, fully set on going on this vacation. What you seemed to forget was Kalim was used to heat. He knew the desert gets cold at night, but nothing like being covered in snow for days on end.

So it made sense that, as much as he wanted to go tubing and skiing; amongst other winter activities, he was condemned to the couch in between all those activities so he could get feeling back in his body. Thankfully for you, Kalim was a very cuddly person so he didn’t just leave you to warm up.

“Come on, let’s snuggle!” Kalim said as he finished setting up the fireplace. The poor boy was bundled up as much as he could as he sat on the small couch right in front of the fire. Two large, fluffy blankets were strewn on the couch from the many sessions you had. 

“Alright, give me a minute though. The tea is almost done.” You said, watching as the man bundled under one of the blankets and left the other one for you. You walked to the kitchen and got two mugs of a nice chai tea to help warm you guys up. You then walked back over to where Kalim was. As soon as he saw you, he opened his arms up wide for you to join.

You couldn’t help but laugh as you walked over and got settled on his lap so you were still facing him. Before he took his mug, he was grabbing the blanket and putting it over your shoulders and making sure you were warm as well. You swore you melted from how sweet he was; Kalim took his cup and sipped on the warm liquid, humming in appreciation.

“So, what’s next on the agenda once we have feeling back in our fingers?” You asked, sipping your drink. The chai tea Kalim had brought with him was next level quality and you swore you might actually have to say something so he would get you some for your dorm.

“I wanna go up one of those ski gondolas!” Kalim said the idea made him excited. He had seen them in winter movies, but this would be totally different. You chuckled, shuffling a bit to get more comfortable.

“You know we’ll have to do something once we’re up there…I actually think there’s a cafe at the top or a restaurant. One of those two.” You said, checking the clock behind you two. It was still pretty early in the day since Kalim was such a morning person.

“Perfect, we can get lunch up there!” He said before frowning, “But I don’t have Jamil here to check the food.” he realized. He rarely ate something that someone else made for him, which meant restaurants were a no go.

“I’ll taste test them for you, I promise.” You said with a wink. Kalim seemed to brighten up as he dragged you down for a quick kiss.

“You’re the best…but you’re not allowed to get poisoned either.” He said, making you scoff.

“We’re in the middle of the mountains, and this reservation was made with a fake name. Nobody even knows you’re here. Why would they think you’d be in a snowy landscape?” You asked, making him hum.

“I guess you’re right…” Kalim said before turning to you, “Ya know, my lips are still kinda cold. If we want to go there for lunch, we gotta wait for them to warm up.” he said with a giant grin. You laughed, before leaning in so your noses touched.

“I’ll help you out then.”

Jamil Viper

Kalim was known for doing nice things for his friends, and since he saw Jamil as one of his closest friends, he wanted to do something nice. What better thing than to ship him off to a freezing cold mountain, with a special somebody and hope he doesn’t freeze to death? In Kalim’s defense, he just wanted Jamil to have a fun time experiencing a white winter since he had to go home.

The downside was that Jamil stressed. Even if Kalim assured him it was alright, and everyone was informed as to why Kalim didn’t have his servant there with him, Jamil was still stressed. Home was, technically, one of the most dangerous places for Kalim since that’s where all his enemies were.

This meant a good majority of your time in the cabin was watching Jamil texting Kalim to make sure he’s checking something, or wanting to speak to his stand-in servant. It was so bad that Jamil’s sister personally called him and told him to just relax and that she was blocking his number on Kalim’s phone.

So queue sitting with Jamil in the cabin, trying to watch a movie while he checked his phone every ten seconds, “Jamil, seriously, you need to chill. We’re only gone for three days.” You said, squeezing his arm in, what you hoped, was a reassuring manner.

“A lot can happen in three days.” Jamil pointed out and you shook your head.

“Or nothing at all. You need to relax a bit, y’know? That’s the whole point of being up here together.” You reminded him, “Let’s go do some winter activities. Chill at some random coffee shop, go tubing down a hill, build a snowman. Let’s have fun.” You tried tugging at his arm, but he grumbled.

“As much as I wish I could, I can’t simply just relax.” Jamil said with a sigh, “If something happens to Kalim, it would reflect badly on my family.”

“Did you forget that it’s your own sister who’s watching over him?” You huffed, “Are you saying she’s not capable of protecting Kalim for a measly three days?”

“I never said that.” Jamil said, shooting you a small glare.

“Oh, it was implied.” You couldn’t help but flick his nose, “Now come on, I have a brilliant idea as to what we can do.” You decided, jumping up from the couch and tossing the blanket off yourself.

“And what would that be?” Jamil asked, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning into the cushions behind him.

“This is a private cabin with a hot spring. We’d be fools not to try it out. Come on, let’s go; it’s the best thing for chasing off the cold, it’ll help you relax a bit too. Then we are going out to lunch together. Then I want to walk around the town and stop by souvenir shops.” You told him, deciding enough was enough. You were going to enjoy this vacation no matter what.

Jamil sighed as he got up and began following you. You stopped by the bathhouse and grabbed two towels, tossing one at Jamil as you pulled a curtain. Jamil was about to ask what you were doing before he noticed the clothes falling to the ground.

“Come on, strip and put your towel on.” You called out, finishing with taking all your clothes off and wrapping the towel securely around you to cover your modesty. Jamil sighed as he followed in suit, the towel hanging almost loosely around his hips. Once you were sure he was decent, you opened up the curtain and made a beeline outside.

Jamil followed, watching as you jumped into the water. You let out a relieved sigh, happy that the temperature was just right. You heard some splashing and watched Jamil walk in. Once he was inside the water you moved over and leaned on his chest, sitting down on one of the benches.

“This better?” You asked Jamil, being able to hear his heartbeat from where you sat. Jamil wouldn’t lie and say it wasn’t relaxing. You felt his hand on your chin as he moved your face over. He placed a gentle kiss on your lips and you smiled into it.

“Better.”

Are you a fan of Diasomnia like me? I bet you are if you read my content (we love the boys in this household). Want to support a visual novel that will feature the Diasomnia dorm, has multiple routes and endings, as well as some spicy visual scenes? Check out @twstfournights and if you want info, check out their announcement post!

[sunsafewriting]

Do A Flip, chapter 6 excerpt: at last (i)

Whoever decided that dancing should be on the phys ed curriculum obviously hated ten-year-olds. Maybe they were attacked by a group of ten-year-olds once, and swore they’d get their revenge. Or maybe they were just born evil. Both options seem equally likely. 

Diego has his phys ed last on a Friday, which is normally awesome, because it means he ends the week playing capture the flag or soccer. Today was a betrayal of mammoth proportions, and he might never recover. 

He complains almost the whole walk from school to the apartment, which is maybe a little whiny of him, but he figures he’s earned it, after tripping over his own feet and being forced to awkwardly hold hands with eight different people. 

“It’s the worst,” he tells Ava. “And I’m the worst at it. Do you know how bad that is? I’m the most embarrassing person at the most embarrassing thing.” 

Ava grimaces sympathetically. “Yikes. At least it’s only for a few weeks, though, right? Then you’ll be onto a new unit.”

“Weeks, Ava. That’s forever. I fell over. And everyone saw.”

It’s not like Ava doesn’t fall over — more often than he does, really — but Ava can just laugh it off. And while Diego doesn’t mind accidentally doing dumb stuff around Ava or Beatrice, it’s another thing entirely to do something dumb in front of his whole class. Laughing it off is simply not an option.  

“Do you think Mother Superion would write me a sick note to get out of it?”

Ava pats him on the shoulder. “Not in a million years, bud.” 

Diego groans. 

“Maybe we can help you practice, though? I missed that unit — I can only do cool dancing. But Beatrice was made to do all that fancy shit when she was growing up. She could totally teach both of us if we ask nicely.” 

He doesn’t want to practice, or ever dance again for as long as he lives. 

He also doesn’t want to fall over in public for a second time, though, so he nods.

An hour later, when Beatrice gets back from university, they push the couch and beanbag to the side and clear an area in the living room. 

“I used to really hate dancing too,” Beatrice admits, after he sighs a bit tragically at the prospect of trying again. 

“You did?”

Even now, it’s rare for Beatrice to mention her childhood; he hardly knows anything about what she was like at his age, and it’s impossible to picture — he can’t imagine Beatrice as being any different than she is. 

But that’s not true, really, is it? Beatrice is very Beatrice, but she’s still changed so much since he met her. 

“Every second of it,” she says. “I didn’t like having to be that close to people I didn’t know, and I always felt like everyone was looking at me and waiting for me to mess it up.”

The only thing he’s ever seen Beatrice actually mess up is hot chocolate, and that’s because they have differing opinions about how much chocolate powder is required. 

“Did you ever mess up?” he asks. 

“Lots. But it was okay,” she promises. “And it got easier once I stopped thinking of it as a performance and started thinking of it more as a pattern. It’s like aikido that way. They’re just different kinds of movement.”

Diego stands on one side of Beatrice and Ava stands on the other and together they slowly step through the footwork for the dance he has to do for class. It’s much less stressful without his teacher and his classmates there. 

Plus, he’s better than Ava at it, so that doesn’t hurt. 

They run it through a bunch of times, until it feels like it’s slid from the front of his mind to the back, and he doesn’t have to whisper-count or struggle to remember what comes next. 

“There you go,” Beatrice says. “You’ve got it.” 

He preens, pleased with himself, and flops onto the couch. That’s more than enough learning for one day, especially now that he’s good at it. 

It leaves him watching Ava struggle, until eventually Beatrice adjusts her approach, and switches around so Ava is in front of her. She sets Ava’s hands on her shoulders. 

“Just like a mirror,” Beatrice tells her.

Ava improves almost suspiciously quickly, her smile bright as she moves when Beatrice moves. 

It’s kind of pretty, actually; the patterns Beatrice was talking about are easier to see from the outside. They’re not particularly smooth, but both of them are laughing, and he supposes that being smooth isn’t the point. 

“Why did you have to learn dancing?” he asks. 

“My mother wanted me to,” Beatrice says. “She felt it would — she was hoping it would make me more — well, it was important to her, so I went. I haven’t done this kind of dancing in a long time.”

“How long?”

“Years and years.” Another step, another step, another step: a new pattern. “It’s nice to try it again.”

Ava spins herself in a twirl that is definitely not part of the dance, but Beatrice goes along with it anyway before gently pulling her back in.