#I have more I could rant about but it’s more for my own play thing crack theory for fun I may talk about another time

[dr-spectre]

Helloooo, just saw the big ol Callie rant and thought I’d share my (albeit not as detailed) thoughts cause the first Splatoon game I played was Splatoon 2 and I took my sweet time on the story mode.

Despite her being your main companion throughout the story mode, I found Marie’s spiteful and clearly discriminatory language towards the Octarians to be consistent overkill, while she was obviously mad about Callie “going missing”, these fellas were only doing their jobs and it was painfully clear that Marie had an inherent dislike for their entire species. Since I hadn’t seen Craig Cuttlefish before I didn’t know that this discrimination came from him, with a distinct parallel between their jabs (aggression being directed and focussed at the Octarian species at a whole rather than the reason you’re here in the first place) and with the fact that I was the one barging in and committing wanton destruction and violence in their territory the universal hate felt incredibly undeserved.

As for Callie, no Squid Sisters songs feel so authentic and genuine as the ones made in Octo Canyon. Even Bomb Rush Blush isn’t trying to sound perfect for any pop lover’s fragile little ears, it’s erratic and fills every silence like a one sided argument. With each song sounding like a vent album and the art showing Callie to be miserable and having to desperately hide it on the surface, she’s seemingly using her distance from Inklings as an opportunity to be completely outwardly honest and express the deeper emotions that wouldn’t be accepted in the media she’s surrounded by. Rather than “I REMEMBER!!!” being some ooga booga the cool glasses magic has been dispelled, I saw it more as Callie accepting these emotions she’d kept from expressing and realising her lifestyle and family meant enough to her that it would be more worth it to try and work through those feelings with them rather than use an outlet that worries them. Additionally, she has quite the opposite view on Octarians to Marie, finding them consistently cute and clearly still being friends with Octavio as they collaborated during the Low Water Party after the events of Octo Expansion (discreet lore but it shows she truly had an enjoyable time there!)

Now I could ramble about DJ Octavio for hours so I will cut this short, while - as you mentioned - Octavio was helping Callie escape the stress of her lifestyle in the interest of his own species, (uh oh the can of worms is threatening to open) insert the fact that Octavio winning means species equality through political negotiations put off for hundreds of years. I know! Oh goodness gracious how terrifying! The spicy beats man has used drastic measures due to neglect and forced poverty of a substantially sized society through giving stressed squid sanctuary! Next he might use his technological advancements in energy efficiency to revolutionise our industrial infrastructure- SHIELD YOUR EYES, CHILDREN!!

oh hey! cheers for reading the full thing!

Oh... oh damn... you just plopped your own rant in here, jesus.

I respect it honestly, i respect the hustle.

You know what's kinda crazy? From my knowledge and what people say online, Marie's hatred for Octarians as a species is a NoA localisation thing and not something in the original Japanese version of Splatoon 2. I could be wrong on that but that's just something I've heard in the grapevine.

Yet another example of poor localisation due to deadlines and rushed development cycles!!! ISNT IT SO FUN HOW IT KEEPS OCCURRING AND HOW PEOPLE BELIEVE IT INCLUDING LOUD VOICES IN THE COMMUNITY AND WIKIS TAKING THE NOA VERSIONS AS THE HOLY GRAIL?!?!?! SO FUN!!!!

(Massive fucking sarcasm.)

I dont have much else to say in response to your ask but, I wanna touch on DJ Octavio for a bit because I think the way that Nintendo treats him as well as the fanbase treats him kinda fucking sucks and flips flops between different personalities and actions he's done.

I swear to god people have such different takes on his personality and what he's done over the three games and it's a real headache to deal with. And the way that a lot of people talk about what he did in Splatoon 2 and the suggestions people say.... ugh... they make him so unredeemable and disgusting.

In Splatoon 1, depending on if you play the NoA version or European/Japanese version, he's either very silly and in your face, making musical puns and being a loud mouth. Or he's trying to be intimating and he gets to the point in his dialogue instead of making musical puns.

The worst things he did in that game was kidnap Cuttlefish and tie him up as bait to fight Agent 3, and stealing the power source for the Inklings. Cuttlefish is a frail old man and Octavio has anger towards him, so it makes sense he would go after him and snatch him up.

And then in Splatoon 2, people wanna fucking say that Octavio kidnapped Callie and brainwashed her, removing all of her memories and making her into a slave for the Octarian army... LIKE... WHAT?!?!?! OCTAVIO IN SPLATOON 1 WASNT THAT EVIL!!! WHY DO PEOPLE SUDDENLY SAY HE DID SOMETHING INCREDIBLY UNREDEEMABLE LIKE THAT?!?! WHY DOES NINTENDO PUSH THAT SHIT TOO?!?! ITS SO ANNOYING!!!!

AND PEOPLE BRING UP THIS PIECE OF CONCEPT ART TOO AND GUYS!!! ITS JUST FUCKING CONCEPT ART!!! ITS NOT CANON!! THERES NO EVIDENCE TO PROVE THAT THIS HAPPENED IN THE REMATCH FIGHTS!!! YOU BRAIN DEAD SONS OF-

You can't just go from "im gonna use Cuttlefish as bait because I hate that guy!" To "neheheh, when Callie isn't looking... I'm gonna grab her and brainwash her!" And then to "IM GONNA GET THAT OLD BASTARD AGAIN! HE TOOK MY ARMY!!!" You can't flip flop between silly old guy wanting vengeance against his lover to enemy Cuttlefish, to a malicious beast that kidnaps young women dude. You can't just do that.

You see the issue here? People give Octavio this ultra dark stain on his legacy and I think it ultimately ruins his redemption in Splatoon 3. He did something unredeemable and you cannot go back from that.

It makes more logical sense for Octavio to use his abilities of propaganda and manipulation out of desperation to convince Callie to join him. Octavio is a general and does things out of rage and vengeance from the past. He is not malicious in his actions and a lot of them can be justifiable. It makes more sense for Octavio to go "I need Callie because my peeps are dying, I'll convince her to join me and then I'll hypnotise her so she's more comfortable in the Octo Canyon to help my troops!"

Octavio is still obviously in the wrong for hypnotising Callie, duh. But, like I've said a trillion times, hypnosis isn't mind control, you cannot force someone to do something against their knowledge and morals. So it's more justifiable for Octavio to hypnotise Callie than to literally kidnap her and brainwash her while she was kicking and screaming, trying to stop him. Okay? WE GOOD SPLATOON COMMUNITY?!?!?!

Ugh.

[year2000electronics]

I was thinking about this for a little bit but what would happen if Reverse Mabel (especially post-weirdmageddon) meets Anti-Mabel.

Seeing some call Reverse Mabel "evil" I feel this would be a very intresting interaction, Reverse Mabel may see her as someone she could of easily become.

ahh, the "anti" dimension. i ruminated on the concept a LOT back when lost legends first released! i think theres an amateurish fic i wrote somewhere in my files of anti-mabel getting basically-adopted by a one of us au ford BUT I CANT FIND IT.

excuse the opportunity im taking to rant about the idea of anti mabel as a whole lol, but... [continued under cut!]

her dimension is a little confusing to think about sometimes, because the story she comes from, don't dimension it, i think a lot of us can widely agree was almost too much of a "pivot" in a direction we didnt really need to go? it's focusing on addressing mabel's "selfishness", especially in the wake of that flood of mabel hate that started picking up steam, but i feel like the version of mabel that exists in don't dimension it is just... not very true or accurate to the actual character. it feels like a very extended "sorry we had mabel make a rash decision in the heat of the moment that the characters forgave her for because they understand and love her. we will now proceed to have a dimension of all mabels where theyre portrayed as so self-absorbed that theyre all stuck on that dimension with no hope of returning home." excuse my dramatic wording but i swear to god that's what it feels like! and that's what it READS like!

mabel got "caught up in her own mabelness"? she gets distracted with crafts and cats like a SQUIRREL?? the idea of her neglecting those around her being put directly next to her going "i caused an entire apocalypse just to get one more day of summer?" SHE WAS GOING TO LOSE TOUCH WITH HER BROTHER. SHE WAS GETTING LIED TO AND TRICKED BY A GUY WHO HAS LITERALLY BEEN TRYING TO START THE APOCALYPSE FOR BILLIONS OF YEARS NOW. its really ridiculous and it doesnt play well at ALL. this kind of thing really shows to me how trying to please bad-faith critics will literally only make the end product worse.

"but what does that have to do with anti mabel though?" well, anti-mabel's "evil" kinda gets affected by the moral of this story, don't you think? if they arent getting mabel right, then what is this ultimate "anti-mabel" really going to be? not really a reflection of any mabel i know. that's for sure.

but that aside, looking at everything that we know about anti-mabel, her dimension is kinda... played off as a joke? she feels a lot more like a joke character to me more than anything at this point lol

not that i really needed that much development from a one-off antagonist from a silly gravity falls comic but like. how is anti-mabel literally SUPERVILLAIN-TIER EVIL? what? where is she getting the resources for this?? and then you have the rest of her family who are all just like, chill? and its like WHAT IS EVEN GOING ON ANYMORE.

anyways. back to trying to answer the question i was literally asked. i think post-weirdmageddon mabel would see anti-mabel in a different light, thats for sure. anti-mabel's family is nothing like her! maybe she's just lonely. rev mabel knows you can't just get away with doing evil stuff, at least she's learning that, but i think some part of her would sympathize with her deep down

[mellidee]

….okay the more I think about it, the more the rationalization of wanting a clean slate for Veilguard and decreasing the choices of the worldstate so drastically makes less sense.

Nerd ranting under the cut.

I’m one of the many who started with Inquisition, and yes, I was a little confused. Yes, I did feel like my enjoyment of Inquisition felt a bit lessened because there’s a lot of cameos and references I was completely blind too. But you know what I did?

I went back and played the rest. And all the games felt so much better knowing that this was my world, this was MY Thedas. I grew attached to characters. I finished Inquisition with my custom worldstate and I loved it. And there’s so many people who finished with the default worldstate and loved it. I feel like BioWare is kind of regretting ever doing the concept of worldstates because I get it, it’s so hard to keep track of and when you want to attract new players, having a grand narrative connecting games is really intimidating. But you can gain new fans that way! People might go back and play the rest to see how bad they can screw up their next run of Inquisition and fall in love with the setting even more. Some may just forever love the default state and never play the rest! It doesn’t have to be so one or the other!

They keep stressing that this is Rook’s story and it’s their time to shine; Origins’ is the Warden’s story. DA2 is Hawke’s story. Inquisition is the Inquisitor’s story. But all four of these stories make up the tapestry that is the story of Thedas. I love the Keep, and I adore the Mass Effect Archives just because I can build the tapestry and see everything laid out. To remove elements of past stories, to not hear characters reference their own histories is removing the cohesion of the story of the world itself, and breaking player immersion. Yes, the characters still exist offscreen and we have our headcanons, we can “make up” what happened next: but even as someone who lives for headcanons, I still like seeing tangible things. I want more moments like my Warden threatening my Inquisitor to keep Alistair safe. I want Morrigan to mention her son. I really wanted to see how Vivienne as Divine would have any ramifications ten years down the road. They didn’t need to be huge cameos, but it made the world feel so lived in, so personalized. But nope, I just have to make it up I suppose.

I’m sure the game will be great, I’ll still play it. But on a scale from 1 - 100 on the hype scale, I plummeted from a 90 to a 45. I was a bit bummed with the combat because I like the overhead tactical pause and I love taking control of companions, but I could live without it. This was a major hit. I’m scared for Mass Effect, because I love it more than Dragon Age. I don’t want my favorite sci fi setting to get watered down.

[devicecontact]

Think so much about this

And him.png (an image that was on the deltarune website in I think 2016 that was part of the deltarune legend but written in wing dings that you could only see via brightening the image) because the legend was quite literally whispered among shadows before the game was out.

[artheresy]

Yingxing Appreciation 🎉🎉

hi, hello, it's Yingxing appreciation time and I'm dragging you into it bc he is my baby and I need more ppl to talk about him

Y'know I see a lot of people like in awe and hyping up DF and just giving him tons of appreciation while analyzing him specifically as an individual which is all so so valid, DF is amazing and very intriguing as a character and I love him sm, but I sadly don't see the same for Yingxing despite him I think also being so interesting. I also see him more so dismissed in the "literally God and some guy" kind of fashion sometimes

So I'm here to rant just a little bit about Yingxing, why I love him, why he's epic and why he ruins my day every single time I think about him! This is for any of my fellow Yingxing lovers who are also starved of any content of him

Firstly, this man is a genuine genius, like lest we forget this is from Baiheng's travelogue in which she met a young Yingxing who was still a child by this point.

He was a young boy but had already become a craftsman, a sign of his ability to learn exceedingly quick under Huaiyans tutelage. And his ability to work and progress incredible fast continues into his time as a young man on the Luofu.

We know he arrived probably somewhere around 18-21 (in my personal estimate) and by the time he saw Jingliu again (which itself was likely early into his stay on the Luofu given HCQ ages and timing), he had already impressed the Master Craftsmen of the Luofu's Artisanship Commission and earned himself a title.

There are also multiple things in game that emphasize his achievements and creations he crafted, some offhandedly mentioned in a readable or item while others are emphasized with importance.

Casually mentioned in the Discarded Ingenium Parts is his feat in the Great Trial of the Furnace (perhaps that trial is for gaining the furnace master title? Once again signifying an earlier achievement in his legacy) where it took him only a day and night to create a whole mechanical lion that moved and looked just like a real live lion from a bunch of defective parts and waste.

More recently in 1.5, they released a readable, the Ten-Lords Criminal Directory, which mentions an imprisonment method designed by Yingxing that keeps “Mirage” in a perpetual state trapped within a hallucination of their own making. Utilizing it’s own powers in order to keep it imprisoned. Something that with proper maintenance seems to have lasted for around 700 years so far.

And of course, how can we forget his most famous creations

The beautifully crafted weapons of the High Cloud Quintet, from Jingliu’s incredibly heavy sword remarked as being as heavy as three thousand catties, to Dan Feng’s Cloud Piercer with the ability to even cut through dragon scales, and the Devastator Glaive as well as Baiheng’s recurve bow. Each impressive in their own ways and seemingly crafted pretty early as well into his time on the Luofu with the HCQ given the distinction of Jing Yuan who (even if he likely was more a teen than a boy) still wasn’t an exact adult yet. So once again, let me emphasize this man’s skill here. With how many things he managed to do so so early into his time on the Luofu. A genius craftsman who deserved all of the praise he had garnered with his works.

Additionally, I know they keep harping about “ugh arrogant craftsman, ugh he’s so full of himself” but every single time we’ve seen his personality, he just seems like a genuine joy to be around. Bright, charismatic, sure he’s cocky but he also gives the impression of being incredibly fun and a bit silly if you ask me.

His behavior as mirrored by the mirage echo in Scalegorge Waterscape is distinctly playful even in what might be a more tense situation, lightly bantering with Dan Feng and even chuckling in certain languages.

In Jingliu’s character stories, it even furthers this bright, playful attitude he gives off with his distinct cheekiness shining through especially with that “toothy grin” of his. And if you listen to Jingliu’s (at least her English) voice lines during Clouds Leave No Trace when she speaks about Yingxing before getting into his transformation, there is a distinct fondness or amusement in her voice as she speaks of him especially that cocky nature of his despite her distaste for it at first.

While Baiheng is hailed as this kind figure in the High Cloud Quintet, perhaps their sun even casting light upon them, it doesn’t seem too far off to say Yingxing was a shining star among them in his own right. His easy going nature with them bringing about a bubbly playfulness similar to Baiheng given their closeness from when he was young. I could go into way more especially in regards to the casualness at which Yingxing seems to speak and treat others allowing for a more equal formation of relationships especially with Dan Feng but I’m saving that for another rant.

And all of this about him especially how expressive he seems at certain points he’s been mentioned, really just makes me so incredibly sad when thinking about Blade now. How severely separated he is from this identity. A division that exists from not only his death but from the way his mental state has been severely warped from his time with Jingliu and being affected afterwards by the mara.

The sheer dehumanization and lack of a personal identity in place of seeing himself as a solely a weapon when put next to Yingxing, with such a clear bold individual identity, really makes the transformation of one into the other all the more jarring and tragic. Especially with the emphasis on how Yingxing hated the abominations of Abundance only to become one himself, something that is still implied to have not been by his own hand. Blade is an immensely tragic character, but that tragedy only holds weight because of the life and identity Yingxing had. It is only with Yingxing’s light which shined despite the circumstances of his life that his descent into darkness hits harder, and it makes me so sad that I haven’t found many others talking or expanding upon this despite my searches because he really is such a well written character with so many details in his story that are both interesting and utterly heartbreaking.

And additionally, I want to say that I think there is a lost potential in examining the Xianzhou through Yingxing. Specifically in the way he is treated as a short life species. We know how the relationship between the Vidyadhara and the Natives, especially as it’s changed after Dan Feng, but there is a very interesting relationship to be explored between the Xianzhou and the Short Life Species the end up there, especially through Yingxing’s relationship to the different Artisans guilds whether on the Luofu or the Zhuming.

In the end, it becomes another sad element to Yingxing’s story. Yingxing managed to change his attitude regarding how the Zhuming masters treated him and even grew more of a confidence, but even in the Luofu's Artisanship Commission, he can never truly get as far as he deserves. Just as Jingliu says

Even with his work impressing the master craftsmen of the Luofu, even after more than showing his skill and earning the title of Furnace Master for that skill, he still would be denied higher positions and could only prove his true worth by the High Cloud Quintet.

And just let me say it again, him being a short life species allows for such an interesting examination of the world and people around him based upon that. While we don't know exactly how they met, we do know that Yingxing was Huaiyan's personal disciple and the only one he mentions of the celestial masters to treat him with respect and believe in his capabilities despite knowing he's a short life species. Through his treatment of Yingxing, we learn quite a bit about him. Through Baiheng's treatment of him as well, we learn a lot about her, more than anywhere else.

He's just UGH I need more exploration from Yingxing's perspective, the lack of it feels as if I'm being starved. He's so interesting, he's so fun, he's incredibly tragic, and he makes me cry every single time he crosses my mind. Please do yourselves a favor and think more about his character so you'll end up as sad about him as me. Or don't maybe. I dunno. All I know for sure is that you absolutely need to read Views of the Universe From a Starskiff: The Zhuming if you haven't. Anyways bye, thanks for listening to this rant, I gotta go cry over him.

Peep the tags also for a rant about my own characterization of YX if you wish to witness my insanity

[divinesolas]

Your Reflection

summary: rq; when the thoughts jacaerys has had his whole life finally can no longer be pushed down he seeks comfort in you

jacaerys targaryen x non targ!reader

w.c: 1.7k

c.w: just a lot of fluff, angst and some minor smut (oral)

perm jace taglist ! (open) @cruelworldlana @smurfelle @ireneispunk @hxtd @venmondiese @urmomsgirlfriend1 1 @jacesvelaryons s @earth4angels @itsemohours @valdezthg

your head whips around at the slam of your room and you stand with wide eyes at the red eyed prince letting out shaky breaths as he swiftly makes his way towards you.

“jace.”

he pulls you into him and falls onto the bed where he lays on top of you, shoving his head into your neck while he lets out weak sobs. “she is being unreasonable” you place your head in his hair while letting out a deep breath. You knew well of his distain for his mothers idea him having ranted for far too long to you about it earlier that same day, to have the low born men and women attempt to claim dragons. bastards.

it was sensitive for him. you knew this far too well. He had gone to try and convince her to change her mind but clearly he had failed and you tried to come up with words that could bring him comfort. “does she not see how foolish this is? to let those people walk amongst us? those those…” he pulls his head away to look at you as he struggles to speak, his face clearly tormented and painful. “they are undeserving. unworthy. they are mongrels and monsters. born out of wedlock believing themselves to be fit for a role they were not made for,”

“are you talking about them or are you talking about yourself?”

he gulps at your words and his eyes well up, “what claim do i have if they claim a dragon? i do not have the hair, the skin, i am a fraud and everyone knows it. I am mere moments away from being stripped of everything i have left.” his head falls onto your chest as his chest heaves up and down with heavy breaths. “i cannot imagine how you feel. the shame you must feel walking down the halls and people staring at you, married to a bastard.”

You grip his face and make him look at you. Hes shocked to see the furry and angry on your face. “i will hear no more of this. you are jacaerys targaryen son of queen rhaenyra taragryen. heir to the iron throne nobody will contest that not. don’t you dare insinuate i am insulted or shamed to be seen with you it is an honor. everyday i wake up blessed to know i married such an honorable and truthful man and i would have it no other way.”

at this point tears are pouring down his face as he shakes his head finding himself refusing to listen to your words. “you could not possibly mean such a thing.” he whines ever so slightly when you bring your lips to his face and kiss the tears off his face, closing his eyes and he refuses to look at you. “i mean it and more. there is no other better man than you. your heritage means nothing to me. should anybody contest that remember you are a targaryen. they shall pay for their contestation with fire and blood.”

he says nothing in return, simply laying his head on your chest while silent tears continue to run down his face. you did not wish to push him to speak, your hands find the back of his head and play with his hair ever so slightly.

“what if they do contest it?” you peer down at him but he continues to stare at the lit fire in your fire pit. “what if after my mother dies they argue and fight and usurp my throne right under me as they have done her? what if there is another war and more people get hurt what if you,,,” His words end up choked up in his throat as he shakes with sobs, you cant help but feel your own eyes begin to water. He’s scared. just a scared young man who doesn’t wish to lose anyone or anything else.

one of your hands soothe his back as you press a kiss to his forehead while your other one cups his face to wipe away his tears. you cannot say anything to console him, knowing this is an issue that runs deeper into his consciousness than you will ever be able to fix by your lonesome. So when you roll him off you he sits up and stares at you in horror as you begin to walk off. his mouth shakily opens to call after you to beg you to stay but his words die on his tongue and he can just let out a meek gasp.

When you arrive back into the room he has his head in his hands while he cries into them. He looks up at you when you place a leather bag next to and tries to catch his breath. His pupils bounce around your face as your hands grab his top and begin to pull it off of him. He allows you, making no move to stop you despite his confusion. “lay on your stomach.” He pauses sniffing as he folds his hands in his lap. When he doesn’t move your cup his face and press a light kiss against his furrowed brows.

He silently pulls away and rolls to lay on his back as you had asked. He has no clue what you’re doing and almost turns to ask you after theres been no movement or talking from you for a bit until he feels you straddle his back and your hands begin to run through his hair. He can smell the oil on your fingers as you delicately run them throughout his curls. He lets out a pleased hum as your nails scratch into his head.

he does not say anything simply allowing you to shower him in affections he normally does not allow you to. cooing at him and pecking all over his back and head. As you move down to massage his neck and back he finds himself overwhelmed with the display of affection and love you’re showering him with he has no clue what to do or say.

Hes even more so embarrassed when you flip him around and he’s hard as a rock. Hes not even feeling sexual in that moment but he’s body is flighting against him. He whines slightly and wishes he could explain himself but he cant. You dont seem to mind. simply dripping more oil onto his skin and working your hands to ease his tension.

He closes his eyes and tries to will it away while you continue to press kisses onto his chest and stomach but if anything it only gets worse at your pure display of love. He hopes he is not ruining this just as he ruins everything. He has never felt so loved in his life he has never felt so at peace since before the war he wants to live in this feeling forever.

His eyes shoot open when you tug his pants down his legs leaving him completely bare and he looks at you alarmed. You say nothing however simply eyeing him as you kiss around his thighs and massage the parts your lips are not. He is breathless as he watches you. When you suddenly stop your movements and look at him he does not know what to do. “i,, shouldn’t i,,, you should,,” The look you have on your face as him stumbling and stuttering over his words. He’s never like this. He would never allow you to do this to him normally. He would insist he get you off first or even outright forbid you to even do something like this more content with pleasing you.

Yet he cant help but be greedy today, the self centered part of him wins and he finds himself nodding to you. He will regret this later he knows he will but when you peck light kissing along his throbbing cock he throws his head back with a moan without a care in the world. His hands grip at the sheets under him when you tongue at his slit slurping up some of his precum before wrapping your lips fully around him.

He understands why some men who are less honorable as he seek out these pleasures often and he almost wishes he allowed you do to this more often. When your hands come to cup and play with his balls his legs shake and he whimpers. He swears he’s going to rip the bedsheets the way he’s gripping at them. His face burns slightly in humiliation and more so in pleasure. sweat drips down the sides of his forehead into his newly oiled hair as he hips uncontrollable thrust up into your mouth where he spews out and apology but you simply hum around him sending another shiver up his spine.

his whole body is shaking with pleasure. He had already been sensitive and relaxed from your overwhelming intimacy he can barely control himself now. he finds himself chanting your name mixed and mumbled with i love you’s. He releases unexpectedly after some louder groans and moans and his eyes well up again as he watches you swallow it down. “im sorry im sorry.” even when he does allow you to do this he never lets himself release in your mouth fearing it may be too much for you and usually just allows himself to spend on your chest.

You climb up to him and press a loving kiss against his lips. He does not mind he can taste himself on your lips as he presses his lips firmly back against yours. The action speaking louder than any words could. He insist he should do something for you in return but the way his eyes droop and struggle to stay open you know he is mere moments from falling asleep. You smile at him and peck his cheek as you shake your head at him. He tries to argue with falters under your comforting hands and sweet nothings into his ear.

He settles with a faint smile on his face the first one you’ve seen on him in many moons. when you rub your hands on his chest he falls asleep at the comfort but not being letting another i love you slip through his lips. His smile grows when he hears you return it before drifting off to sleep where he knows he’ll meet you there too

[hxney-lemcn]

Prince and the Frog — Housewardens x gn! reader

summary: you find yourself cursed and you go to your prince to lift it.

tw: none that I can think of.

a/n: I saw something about the princess and the frog and got inspo. This is so fun, goofy, and lovely, I hope y'all enjoy <3

wc: 1.9k (~300 each character)

Master List

You weren’t sure what you’ve done to deserve this, but even you felt it wasn’t enough. I mean a frog? Really? And the cure was a true love's kiss? Seriously? Can it get any more cliche? You might as well search for a princess and turn her into a frog as well and then set off into a journey of personal growth…you suppose a prince will have to do. You went to the first person you thought could help, time to see if they really would still love you if you were a worm, err…frog.

Riddle Rosehearts

Okay, so maybe Riddle wasn’t technically a prince, but a queen is a step above that, no? You were a little scared of his reaction, but you couldn’t stay a frog forever. Not to mention that someone else had cursed you, it’s not like you turned yourself into a frog. So when you managed to find him he freaked out, mouth agape as you explained your situation. Thank the sevens you could still talk. Riddle’s face soured, lips twisted into a scowl. At first you thought he was going to find a way to collar you in your current slippery state, but he ended up ranting about the person who cursed you, asking for any details that you could provide. The thought of kissing you to break the curse hadn’t even crossed his mind, instead skipping straight to punishing the fool who’d curse the Queen’s rose and making them reverse it. It was then that you learned just how quickly Riddle could sniff someone out if he wanted to, because the effects had been reversed by the end of the same day. (If that doesn’t show you how much he loves you then I don’t know what can).

Leona Kingscholar

…are you sure about this? I mean…yeah he’s a prince and all but he might just toss you mistaking you for a random frog who dared to encroach on his space. The type to argue he wouldn’t have to love you if you were a worm cause how ridiculous is that? Well…not so ridiculous now, huh? Thankfully, you had found Ruggie first, explaining your situation and asking for him to bring you to Leona. Not so thankfully, Ruggie found the entire thing hilarious and had to take a moment to calm himself down. He kept snickering to himself the entire way to Leona, making you want to die, or just stay a frog and live a happy life in a nice little pond and start a little froggy family. When Ruggie managed to tell Leona what was going on in between laughter Leona just stared at you like you were the stupidest motherfucker. Hey! It wasn’t like you were asking to be cursed! Has an internal conflict on what to do. On one hand he wants to prove he’s your true love, and kissing you seems to be the quickest way to get this over with…on the other you are a literal frog. Shooing Ruggie away, Leona bemoaningly gave you the quickest peck ever, making a face of disgust as he pulled away. The transformation back took a few seconds, but the look of disgust quickly turned to a smug smirk, feeling proud that you were truly his. 

Azul Ashengrotto

Okay, so again, not an actual prince…but he excelled at potions, so it only made sense…except he’ll probably make you sign your life away. So maybe not a good choice once again. I pray for you because one if not both of the Leech twins are gonna find you first and they’re gonna have a field day. ‘My, you’d look perfect in one of my terrariums’ Jade would note. Floyd would probably accidentally kill you because this entire situation is oh so hilarious and he forgot he’s supposed to be holding you gently. After the two have their fun (Jade plays with you and his terrarium like you're a doll in a dollhouse), they finally bring you to Azul, laughing their asses off in their own ways. Azul stares at you blankly as the two eel brothers leave, trying his hardest to not laugh. His face is red from concealing his humor, looking to the side to collect himself. He’ll offer you the cure, but for a price. Kiss you? He has a reputation to upkeep you know. He can’t be seen kissing frogs, imagine what that’ll do to his image! No, no, just sign the contract, and to sweeten the deal he’ll have the twins deal with the pest who thought it was a good idea to curse his angelfish. If you really persist, he’ll give in eventually. To be fair, he is also curious to see if you're his true love, but on the other hand he’s terrified if you're not. He doesn’t want to lose you. And to both your delight, you transform back after he gives you a small kiss on your little froggy head…he’s also running laps in his mind at how happy he is.

Kalim Al-Asim

He’s a prince and won’t think twice! He loves you truly, so it has to work! Too bad Jamil stumbled upon you first. Adamantly tries to hide you from Kalim and he feels his headache growing ten times worse. Why did you stupidly get yourself cursed? He asks like you did it on purpose. You didn’t know why the guy cursed you either! Jamil keeps you tucked in his hoodie until he can find time to bring you to Professor Crewel. You tried to fight him at first as you’d rather stay a frog than get detention for something you had no control over, but Jamil knew how to keep a tight leash on the unruly…it was his job after all. Unfortunately for him, Kalim walked into the kitchens right as you hopped out of his pocket. At first he was confused, and then even more confused, and then ecstatic. You hopped over to him, asking for him to protect you from Jamil (who was giving you a major side eye). Then you explained your predicament, and Jamil butted in about bringing you to Crewel. Innocently, Kalim offered to kiss you. No need to bother Crewel if the cure was so simple! Jamil couldn’t stop him in time, as Kalim kissed you the second he finished the sentence. Even Jamil couldn’t hide his disgust for a second at the action. Thankfully, Kalim was your true love as you had transformed back, and he hugged you gleefully. Unfortunately for Kalim, you refused any of his kisses until he rinsed his mouth (lmao).

Vil Schoenheit

Another queen. Best person to go to. He can whip up any cure just as fast as he can whip up any potion/poison. Rook, saw the whole encounter with the other student, and brought you to Vil without a second thought. He already knew everything about the idiot who cursed you so no need to stick around. Vil’s gaze turned into a disapproving stare as he looked at you. Even though Rook tried to stick up for you, dramatizing the whole event as stating how brave you were to face such a curse head on, Vil only shook his head. He motioned for Rook to follow him, not wanting to pick you up. He loves you, really he does, he just can’t afford to get his clothes dirty or stained. He picks the ingredients effortlessly, starting to brew the cure without a second thought. Both you and Rook seemed to want to get on his nerves as you both prattle on about true love and how he should kiss you. He didn’t expect you to be a cheesy sap (he’s lying), besides, don’t you know how many curses list true love’s kiss as the cure? The meaning is pointless. Besides, he doesn’t need some curse to prove his love for you, hasn’t he shown you how much you mean to him already? Or was he lacking, because he didn’t think you’d doubt him. Either way, you’re drinking the cure, he couldn’t risk that your slimy frog skin might make him break out. But don’t worry, if you really have room to doubt his love, he’ll make sure you can’t within the week.

Idia Shroud

Hahaha. Again, are you sure? He’s always holed up in his room, the only chance you're brought to him is if Ortho finds you (or vice versa). At first Ortho found you adorable, cooing at you as he floated to Idia’s room. He thought this was the perfect opportunity to show both you and Idia just how much you care for the other. How could either of you doubt the other if it's sealed with a true love's kiss? It was a brilliant opportunity! (Orthos a little too into this). He barely let his brother welcome them in before barging in and shoving a frog (you) into Idia’s face. At first Idia screeched, falling out of his gamer chair and scrambling away from the amphibian. Was Ortho pranking him? That’s totally uncool, he wasn’t some normie. But then Ortho happily blabbed about you and the curse and then it clicked…YOU WERE A FROG? Now he’s rolling on the floor laughing at you. You’d smack him if you WEREN’T A FROG. After he’s done laughing it up, he then freezes. Ortho wants him to kiss you? B-but that's gross! Who knows what diseases he’ll get if he kisses you. k. Wait, don't go to someone else! Fine, he’ll do it, but he won’t like it. Inside, he’s absolutely terrified. His mind is running a mile a minute. He doesn’t think you’ll actually turn back, someone like him doesn’t deserve true love…so imagine the face he makes when you do. Face a bright red, his hair a bright pink. Oh no, he feels faint. Give him a peck on the lips to finish him off.

Malleus Draconia

Uh oh. Queue the thunder and lightning. Whoever cursed you is the stupidest motherfucker. Malleus is the one to stumble upon you this time, to the disdain of his family. Lilia on one hand wanted to laugh about the situation, on the other, he knew he’d have to protect the stupid human from being smite for cursing Malleus’ love. Silver and Sebek are sweating as Malleus holds you gently in his hands. If he thought you were gentle as a human, he’s being ten times more careful with you in your froggy state. On the outside, he’s silent and brooding, on the inside he’s lamenting on finding you an enclosure where you can be happiest. What type of tank, soil, plants, water…someone please tell him this is reversible. Lilia chimes in before the rain outside can get worse, mentioning true love's kiss is able to reverse the effects. Malleus’ green slitted eyes never move from your tiny form, he finds you absolutely breathtaking even as a frog (this man is down so bad), but he’s nothing but relieved when he hears the news. Human lifespans are already small as is, he would’ve been completely gut wrenching if that time was cut even shorter. Another one who doesn’t hesitate to kiss you. This man would love you if you were a worm. He strokes your moist skin gently as he leaves a small kiss to your adorable head. His entire being, soul, mind and body all belong to you, and if that isn’t true love then I don’t know what is. His eyes shine brightly as you transform back, holding you gently as he promises to protect you from any miscreant that dares even look at you wrong…yeah so the guy who cursed you is still fucked and now you have a protective dragon at your heel 24/7.

[princessbrunette]

rafe had been trying to pick a fight with bunny!reader all day due to his bad mood. however, due to her being a little ray of pink glittery sunshine — it just wasn’t happening.

first, the problem was the pink glittery dildo in your dresser that he found whilst snooping due to boredom, waiting for you to be done in the shower. he argues with himself whilst you sit at your vanity, giggling and happily doing your makeup.

“you tellin’ me you need that shit? ‘cus… ‘cus if that’s the case, don’t come begging for dick every thirty minutes when clearly you could be fixing your own problems.” he rants, huffing as you carefully brush mascara through your eyelashes.

“its not the same! pluuuus, i haven’t used that thing in ages. dont even know where you found it, daddy.” you’re clearly amused and it’s making things worse, locking eyes with your boyfriend through the mirror as he stands with his hands on his hips.

“think i’m stupid, right? if you weren’t still using this thing you would have thrown it in the trash.”

you spin on your stool, giving him a convincing pout. “i only use it when you go away on business trips with your dad, ‘cos i just miss you so much.”

he blinks, clearly not out of juice.

“you need to learn a little patience and self discipline, alright — you’ll appreciate this dick more without the fuckin’ silicone version.” he drawls and you giggle again at his word choice before bringing your manicured fingers to your lips to stop yourself.

“m’attached to it rafey. i like it. its pink and glittery and i’m not throwing it away.” you stand your ground, and his jaw ticks, looking around once more at the toy laying on your bed.

“cant do all the shit i do n’you know it… right? you call me when that toy fuckin’ chokes you out how you like it or spits in your damn asshole and shoves its thumb in there. yeah?” he mouths off before leaving the room, caring less and less about the argument as time goes on. now you really couldn’t fight him — he was playing dirty, and that made you horny.

his fighting spirit is given a new lease of life downstairs in the kitchen, when you accidentally blurt out the wrong name whilst speaking to him.

you’re giggling uncontrollably once more, grabbing at his shirt in the kitchen attempting to pull you closer as he holds his hands up, pretending to be totally disgusted.

“nah, who the fuck is that — huh? nate?”

“gosh, rafey — he’s from gossip girl! i was just thinkin’ about the show and your names sound similar! was an accident!” the fact you don’t sound sorry in the slightest is grinding his gears, not hugging you back when you manage to wrap your arms around him. “daddy hug me back.” you pout, and he peels you back with his hands on your shoulders.

“on thin fuckin’ ice today… alright?” he raises his eyebrows. you smile and nod, earrings jangling like there wasn’t a thought in your head.

it’s on the way to the country club that he’s really had enough, insisting on playing your music in the car, constantly winding down the volume to ask questions that didn’t need to be asked. your delicate hand reaches out for the volume toggle once more and he smacks it away.

“if you’re going to ask me if i’d still love you as a worm, or whatever bullshit you’ve conjured up — i suggest staying quiet, yeah? already told you that you’re pushing it today.”

he doesn’t have to look at you to know your smile is spreading.

“that wasn’t my question, but would you?”

the car pulls over to the side of the road with a swiftness, and he turns his body in his seat. you look unbothered as ever.

“why’d we stop?”

“you’re uh, you’re goin’ in the trunk. okay?” he rasps slowly, nodding his head like it would hypnotise you into agreeing. somehow, it worked — because your grin remains.

“okay!”

he marches over to your side and yanks you out before walking you round the back and opening the trunk. “i’m serious. get in.”

you do with no complaints — and by the time he is back in the drivers seat, he believes he’s taken it too far. however there’s no banging around, no crying, no screaming for him to let you out — so he drives away. the silence is rewarding, but he doesn’t feel great about it.

when he pulls up to the country club, he’s quick to walk around the backside of his truck and open up the trunk, relieved to see you happy as a clam — and lifts you out from under your arms. “that was fun! it was like you were a kidnapper, but also my boyfriend.” your eyes have a twinkle to them as he marches you towards his group of friends, gawking with questioning gazes.

“yeah you like that shit? ‘that turn you on?” he bites back sarcastically, but you nod anyway.

[helen-with-an-a]

ona batlle x Putellas!sister!reader

reader an ona are in a relationship but nobody knows in a game against real madrid ona gets hurt and you comfort her and almost got a red card that is when alexia sees that you are more than just friends

Hiiiiii - thank you so much for the request. I hope you enjoy it. I did read the request wrong so R gets injured not Ona but I think it's cute and funny still ahahaha. I hope you enjoy it.

Exposed

Ona Batlle x Reader ; Alexia Putellas x Reader

Description: It takes an injury for Alexia to figure out R is in a relationship

TW: Injury

Word Count: 1.5k (i think)

It wasn’t exactly how you imagined telling your sister you were in a long-term relationship … a secret long-term relationship that you had been hiding from your sister for a very long time. In your head, you probably would have done it years ago, before you went over to Manchester, before you left Barça to play for Madrid CFF. In your head, you would have done it after Ona kissed you after your final match for La Masia.

Who would have thought that you and Ona would have been in a relationship since 2017 without Alexia catching on? You hadn’t meant to hide it from anyone, not really. You had told Patri after you phoned her freaking out over your imminent first date with Ona. And Ona had spilled to Leila after you asked her to be your girlfriend. Over time, almost everyone but Alexia was in on the secret. Alba had caught you and Ona coming out of a café, hand-in-hand, looking at each other like you were the only two people on the planet. Ona’s brother had been slightly less lucky as he walked in on you mid-make out in Ona’s bedroom. Your Mamí had been introduced to Ona formally one night when she came over to Manchester to watch one of your matches. Ona had snuck you away from Barcelona to her family home to for you to officially meet her parents too.

Was it the best idea to remain hidden for that long? Probably not, but it wasn’t entirely your fault. You had seen the way Alexia had reacted to Alba’s partners – the stern words, the rude grunts and her overall displeasure at the person Alba brought home. It would have been ten times worse with you. Alexia was a protective person when it came to her friends and family. But you, you were her Hermanita. You were had littlest sister that had followed in her footsteps and taken to football like a duck to water. If an opposition player even breathed in your direction, Alexia was looming over them, anger in her eyes as she laid a slightly-too-harsh tackle on them. You couldn’t bring yourself to let Ona be on the receiving end of that anger.

It was a slightly awkward conversation, having to broach the subject of hiding your girlfriend was not easily brought up. At first it was fine, Ona hadn’t made her sexuality well known and so keeping things lowkey was fine. It took Ona seeing Alexia rant and rave about Alba’s ex and how no one would ever be good enough for her little sisters to finally realise that you weren’t ashamed of your relationship or hiding it from the world. You were merely protecting Ona and her own friendship with Alexia.

That all came crashing down after Misa’s poorly timed dive for the ball. You were a forward, dodging approaching goalkeepers had become your forte. But not this time. This time, Misa’s body was at your feet before you knew it and you were colliding with the goalpost before you could stop yourself.

You felt totally fine as you sat up, a little dazed perhaps and your head throbbed and something was keeping your eye from opening all the way. You were mainly concerned about the cuts along your thumb. You knew that wearing your necklace during a match wasn’t allowed, you it was long enough to keep hidden, normally. You must have caught it as you fell, the stinging in your hands keeping you preoccupied.

“Princesa?” Ona’s voice was frantic, the worry palpable as she rushed to your side.

“My hands,” you whined, looking down at your thumb that had a rather a lot of blood dripping down it.

“Princesa, your head,” Ona placed a hand on your cheek, dragging your attention away from your cuts.

“No, Oni. My hands,” you whined again, not quite understanding what she was so concerned about.

The two of you were in your own little bubble. You didn’t see the looks from the team, or your families in the crowd. Or your sister, who was simultaneously arguing with the ref for a red card for Misa and casting glances back at you and Ona, confused as to why she had a feeling that she was missing something. You and Ona had been best friends for years. You had been roommates at the academy. And then you moved to Madrid together, sharing a small flat there and Valencia before moving to Manchester at the same time. But she couldn’t help the nagging sensation that she was missing a piece of the puzzle.

Eventually, the medics arrived and the looks on their faces as they guided you to lay back down was something Alexia could not ignore. She gave up arguing, leaving that to Marta and Patri and came to your side.

“Hermanita?” She asked, her face appearing in your field of vision.

“Hi Ale,” you smiled. Clearly the medics had given you something for the pain.

“Are you ok, cariño? That’s a nasty cut.” She nodded to your eyebrow that was slowly dribbling a trickle of red liquid and had already swollen to double its size.

“I’m good,” you said breezily, the pain meds having already kicked in. “Just … just,” you flailed your good hand about, reaching for Alexia and holding on tightly. “Don’t let mi Oni do anything stupid. She seemed really angry.” You couldn’t help but let the tears start to fall. She blinked, your Oni

“Oh, Hermanita, you’re ok. You’re gonna be just fine, cariño.” She pressed a few kisses to your knuckles as the medics sat you back up again.

It was clear to Jona that Alexia would not be continuing the game. The way her eyes followed you, the way she bit her lip, the way her hands were shaking ever so slightly as she grabbed a water bottle.

“Alexia, I’m switching you out,” Jona called, already handing the papers off to the official.

“What? No, I’m ok, I promise.” Her lie was caught as she broke off, seeing you gingerly get to your feet.

“It’s not for you, it’s for her,” Jona justified. “She’s going to need her big sister,” he added in a more private tone. It was a well-known fact in the club that you hated anything medical – simple check-ins, a basic assessment, the smallest of things, you had to have either Ona or Alexia in with you. You were so high on whatever pain meds you were given you barely even clocked Alexia was in the room with you. Your eyes kept flitting to the door before something else caught your attention, but it wasn’t long until you were staring at the door again.

There was about 10 minutes left of the game when the murmurs started in the corridor outside.

“Let me in,” someone shouted. Alexia couldn’t recognise who it was, but clearly you did.

“Oni,” you squealed, trying to sit up and go to your girlfriend.

“No, hermanita. Stay still,” Alexia said firmly, putting a hand on your shoulder and lying you back down.

“Let. Me. In,” Ona said more firmly this time. After a moment, the door swung open, and Ona stood with a Liga F official by her side.

“You really should be in the changing rooms, Ms. Batlle,” he tried to insist.

“Yeh, and I really need to see my gi- ... friend,” she countered.

“Ona,” Alexia said carefully, catching everyone’s attention. “Thank you, sir. I’ll take it from here,” she smiled at the official. Even he gulped at her tone.

“Did Jona sub you off?” You asked, breaking the tension. Ona couldn’t lift her eyes from the floor.

“Answer her,” Alexia asked sternly.

“Not exactly,” Ona offered a weak smile that looked more like a grimace.

“Then why aren’t you on the field?” Alexia raised an eyebrow.

“I got a red,” Ona whispered

The room was silent.

“Did you protect my honour, Oni? God, you’re such a good girlfriend.” You smiled happily, not quite realising what you had just confessed.

I hope you enjoyed it <3<3<3<3

[wannaeatramyeon]

Meeting Student!Gun Park for the First Time: Part 1

Part 2! G/N. 3.2k. Remember when Gun wanted to get his GED? Well. Stranger to~ Masterlists

"How old are you?"

"20."

Press X for doubt, you think, and that's the exact meme you send over on chat.

"20 like 20 or 20 like you're mid 30s and planning your mid life crisis 20?"

You know you're being rude and making a terrible first impression. It's the first day of a new school year, of a new school in fact, and for some reason the class is held on video call and you're all forced to pair off with a classmate for an icebreaker introduction.

It’s already cringe worthy and awkward enough, icebreakers must have been created as a form of torture. To add insult to injury, you're sure this guy is bullshitting you.

"I'm 20." He deadpans.

Momentarily, you’re stunned into silence. It stretches almost a tad too long before you manage to choke out, “My bad. Sorry."

Wow. You're torn between thinking that's a rough 20, this guy has easily got 40 years under his belt and oh no, when is your puberty and hormones gonna kick in like that.

And that's also the exact moment this 20 year old Gun Park takes a drag on a cigarette and you decide that it's definitely a rough 20.

"So what do you do for fun?" You probe, and you have the distinct feeling he might say something like alimony, planning his third marriage, investing in the stock market - whatever someone in their 50s might say but-

To your surprise and glee, his body language turns shifty. 

He likes to game he says, like it's a dirty little secret. Amongst other things. Mentions something about training and martial arts and you fight to keep a straight face as it turns out you were also right about investing in shares and the stock market.

Gaming, however, is what you latch on to.

"Cute. I bet I could kick your ass."

"Oh yeah?"

"Oh yes."

And this is how you ended up at 4am on a school night, playing Tekken with your new classmate and getting your ass kicked.

"One more!" You screech down the mic, after the KO sign appears on screen, mumbling something about cheating and how if you can time this combo just right-

There's a huff of laughter coming through your tinny headphones and an amused "Fine."

.

.

Dark circles under your eyes grow. It's been a week of straight losses.

You blame the sleep deprivation on Gun Park, though really you have your own stubbornness to blame.

He never tends to say much during the gaming sessions apart from the odd expletive and you rant enough after each of your defeats for the both of you.

Sometimes this will earn you a chuckle and he will snidely add that you asked for this, you were the one who was supposed to kick his ass. This would piss you off enough for another game or three in the hopes of defeating him and getting to gloat.

Which unfortunately has not happened yet.

With a sigh, you hope your camera quality this morning is bad enough and pixelated enough that your poor sleep habits don't show.

You scan over your classmates, the few that have their camera turned on and find him.

Gun looks completely fine. He looks completely fine in what must be 4k and ugh, you scrunch your nose up in annoyance.

You keep an eye on him through the class. Observe how he's usually paying rapt attention, scribbling and typing up notes every now and then.

It's impressive how studious he is.

In comparison, you're daydreaming. Thinking about lunch, other combos or characters to play to counter his own when you catch on to the back end of a sentence as your teacher mentions ‘this’ is something to pay attention to as it will be on the pop quiz.

Huh? You blink a couple times. What is ‘this’? Unfortunately she swiftly moves onto another topic.

You type out a direct message to the only person you know.

You: I missed that, what did she just say?

Gun: You should have been paying attention.

You: Fuck you man!

You see his eyes dip to the bottom of the camera screen, briefly moving as he presumably reads your message.

He smirks.

That night he kicks your ass again.

Then as consolation, reveals what will be on the pop quiz.

.

.

If Gun looked like that in 4k, nothing could prepare you for how he looked in real life.

You're setting up your laptop and notepad in the classroom, the first actual in-person session, when someone takes a seat next to you.

Initially you feel a surge of irritation that they could have sat anywhere else and chose to sit next to you, then you look at the offender and-

Hold on.

You double, triple-take-

Is that?

It must be.

Shit.

It's fucking Gun Park.

You don't entirely regret your initial comments on his looks because this guy definitely does not look 20 but goddamn he looks-

He chooses that moment, when your jaw is on the floor, to turn to you and give you a nod of acknowledgement.

"Y/N."

"H-hi." You manage, and even to your ears it sounds like a simpering fool.

He must have thought so too if the quirk of his lips is anything to go by.

The cherry on top is that you expected this guy to smell like stale smoke, instead all you get is fresh laundry and something faintly dark and heady like leather and cedarwood.

Fuck.

Control yourself, a disapproving voice in your head says. Even that sounds vaguely like Gun.

It does nothing to stop your wandering gaze, peering at him in your periphery when you think he's not looking.

After you have taken your chance to not so discreetly run your eyes up and down his form, the only thing that makes you feel better is his hair. Because yeah he might be hot, but holy shit that must be a gallon of hair gel in there.

.

.

The other thing, as it turns out, that makes you feel a lot better is that he doodles.

It’s utterly charming.

Someone like Gun Park doesn't look like he doodles, but in between lines of his chicken scratch (seriously, who can even read that), there's little stick figures.

Maybe all the time you thought he was being studious he was just drawing-

Wait. You squint at the picture.

Is this guy for real?

"Are they fucking?" You whisper, using your pen to point at the page.

He doesn't answer straight away. There's a moment of surprise as he reacts like this is another secret of his he has unwittingly let you in on before his nostril flares and his eyes narrow and you grin in response.

Your grin grows when he grits out an answer. "No. Fighting."

He doesn't call you a dumbass but you can hear it loud and clear tacked on at the end.

"Whatever, pervert." You counter. You guess if you squint even harder then you suppose they could be fighting. Although the way one is lying on top of another is very suggestive. You don't hesitate to point that out to him.

Gun closes his eyes and counts to ten.

.

.

Even without a seating plan, one forms.

Places taken by chance on the first day becomes a regular arrangement.

You exchange a few words with your classmates, familiarise yourself somewhat with their names and faces. Pieces of their backstory, why they're here studying for a GED but take your spot next to Gun regardless.

No one really talks to him, you've heard them saying he's menacing and intimidating. Yet when your first encounter of him was mistaking him as someone about to hit mid life crisis, how intimidating can he really be.

Besides, he still doodles his lewd figures that he insists are not in any way shape or form comprising sexual positions. So no, you don't find him intimidating at all.

.

.

Gun, as you have come to know, is a man of few words. He is also unsurprisingly not great at literature.

What you don't yet know is he likes to say what he means and mean what he says. His patience only extends to The Art of War, so all the flowery prose and poetry only serves to irritate him.

If Gun glared at you the way he's currently glaring at the textbook, you think you may either burst into tears or burst into flames.

Luckily you do neither of those things but you do take pity on him. Leaning over, you ask him quietly if he needs help.

He doesn't respond but the pen he's clutching in his right hand snaps in half.

Alright then.

Half an hour later, when the class empties out you ask Gun to follow you to the library.

He hesitates, and you add "if you've got time" to give him an out. In the end he doesn't take it and trudges obediently after you.

You very quickly learn that he really doesn't like literature. You're explaining and working him through the analysis and also mildly offended at the bored look on his face.

"This is a waste of time," he interjects and there's a sullen undercurrent to his words.

"Just memorise the analysis then." Exasperation tinges your tone, "That's all you need to do to pass."

He arches a brow at your words.

"They're testing your memory. So just remember what our teacher says."

There's an angry air of resignation as Gun nods, and you slide your notes over for him to copy.

.

.

Not long after, you have your first minor evaluation on the literature material.

You notice during the test that while the vein in Gun’s temple is prominent and he’s clutching his (new) pen tighter, there’s barely any pause as he fills in the answers.

A few days later, the graded papers are handed back. There's a sigh of relief from Gun.

He gives you a smile, small and genuine, eyes crinkling at the corner.

"You owe me one," you tell him jokingly though he takes it to heart and gives you a stern nod.

.

.

Gun repays his debt, with a coffee.

He places the paper cup on the desk in front of you. Logo of the coffee house to the side but still visible. It's new, expensive, and there’s regular lines around the block.

Of course it would be from there.

The issue is, who repays a debt with an espresso. He didn’t even ask for your drink of choice!

"Thanks for this thimble of coffee," you remark as Gun sniffs in distaste at your comment, placing his own matching cup in front of him and saying something about how it's the best untainted way to drink it.

Of course he would also be a coffee snob.

You tell him you usually like it with a bit more cream and a lot more sugar and he mutters that you sound like Goo.

You think that's an insult.

"Well, at least Goo has good taste," you snipe back with a grin.

Gun closes his eyes and counts to ten.

.

.

You: Are you doodling or actually writing notes?

You: Cos on camera you look very studious but I’ve seen your notepad

Gun: None of your business

You: Still drawing your disgusting pornographic stick men then

Gun: They are not-

Gun: Whatever

.

.

You: Ok, maybe that espresso wasn’t terrible

Gun: I know

You: Who’s Goo anyway?

Gun: …

Gun: No-one

You: Suuuure

.

.

You: Tekken tonight?

Gun: Aren’t you tired of getting your ass kicked?

You: >:(

.

.

You: Do you wanna go over the new lit material in the library this week?

Gun: Ok

.

.

Gun: Thanks for your help

You: :) 

.

.

Gun: You’re tired. You should game less.

You: Spoken like a coward!

Gun: Dumbass

You: Hey!!

.

.

Gun: I’ll bring you an espresso tomorrow. You need it.

You: Does it have to be an espresso?

Gun: Yes

You: …Thanks

.

.

To anyone else, the figure standing in the doorway is just smoking. To you, it suspiciously looks like they’re waiting.

It's not a crime. Gun Park can wait for whatever or whoever he wants.

What really throws you off is his smoking. You've seen him casually take one single drag before throwing the whole cigarette away. Even to you, it seems like a waste.

However, this time he smokes one all the way to the filter before stubbing it out. Then does the same to a second, and third.

Strange, very strange.

You approach him. Taking gentle steps, in case he might get spooked and bolt which is really a ridiculous notion for someone like him. Nevertheless, you keep your footsteps light, yourself clearly in view and you wander over to him.

"Hey," you say, with a somewhat forced smile. He doesn't acknowledge your greeting apart from a brief nod.

"... Everything ok?"

It's a perfectly normal question to ask but a vastly bizarre one for Gun. He doesn't look like the type of person where people casually enquire about his well being.

He must have thought so too if the look he gives you is anything to go by.

In response, he stubs out his cigarette (his fourth!) then asks, stilted and stiffly, if you want to come back to his for a game of Tekken.

At least that's what you interpret as he seems to be crazy cryptic.

"Are you interested in Tekken?"

"...Yes." You wonder what on earth this question is because did you hallucinate all those games you played together?

"Then meet me. After class." 

"Where? Here?"

"No. At mine."

"Where's that?"

"..."

He gives you another look, as if you're the one trying to coax a secret out of him despite him offering.

Gun dips forward, murmurs quietly into your ear his address and some vague directions like it's highly confidential information.

You nod along, thinking what is with this guy. 

.

.

So firstly, what the fuck.

Then secondly, what the fuck.

Don't think you hadn't noticed the designer brands Gun wears. If they're fakes, they're very convincing fakes. But you're almost certain they have got to be counterfeit when he brought you over to a junkyard claiming this is where he lives.

You've seen films like this. Granted, it's less in a junkyard and more in the middle of nowhere in America where college kids meet their gruesome ends in fantastical ways.

You never thought this would happen to you. You have sorely miscalculated. 

Is this Gun Park (if that even is his real name) going to butcher you and leave your body on top of a pile of scrap metal in the corner?

Instead of a night of gaming where you’re the one KO-ing him, he’s actually the one that’s going to chase you around wearing a mask and wielding a knife or axe?

"You’re here. Come in," Gun says, opening his front door just as your inner monologue begins to truly spiral out of control and you're considering doing a runner.

"Eh?" You grunt like an idiot, not noticing when the shack appeared nor when you stepped onto his porch, or the side eyes Gun had been giving you.

He gives you another look, likely regretting inviting you at all, and leaves the door ajar for you to either enter or turn back and go home.

.

.

"This is... nice," you lie, through the skin of your teeth.

Gun sees cleanly through your white lie and exhales a huff of amusement.

It's sparse. Peeks of luxury here and there - the extensive PC gaming rig, the entertainment system and consoles, to name a few.

Apart from that, it's barely a home.

"Take a seat." He offers, and it sounds more like an order. Obediently you sit on his sofa, feeling very much a guest.

"You're not in danger," he says, bemused at how awkward you are in his domain, how tense you hold yourself.

'That's exactly what a killer would say,' you think and when you hear a low chuckle, you realise that you said it aloud.

"Don't worry," Gun reassures and it doesn’t really help before he strides off to somewhere in his house and leaves you sitting alone.

He returns back minutes later as you’re in the middle of admiring his entertainment set up and going through his vinyl collection (because obviously someone like Gun has vinyls) with a coffee for you that looks much more milky and to your taste than the usual ones he offers. 

“Thanks.” you take your drink and return back to your seat.

Taking the first sip, you finally manage to relax. Sinking into a sofa that is much more comfortable than at first glance and you take in your surroundings a bit more.

Sort of. You actually take in Gun Park more. 

He’s casual, in a way you have never seen or even considered. Dressed in a t-shirt and grey sweatpants, hair floppy and the only styling is done with his hands running through his hair now and then to keep it back.

Even during the online classes, he is usually dressed up in an open collared shirt.

If you thought he was hot before, it’s nothing compared to now. There’s an air of domesticity, the drink he made for you cradled in your hands, and the distinct feeling that not many people have had the luxury to see Gun in his natural habitat, so intimate and vulnerable.

You wonder if this is how he looks all those nights you’ve been gaming together.

You catch his eyes, having been caught checking him out and he raises his eyebrows at your blatant staring. 

Blood rushes to your cheeks as he chuckles into his own espresso and takes a sip.

.

.

"Holy shit, I won!"

You're familiar with the KO screen. What you're not familiar with is being on the side of victory. You're usually a hair trigger away from rage quitting, from throwing a tantrum down the mic.

Finally. All your hard work has paid off. Time spent thinking of combos, attacks and defences (which would have been better spent studying) is coming to fruition.

You peer over to Gun, expect the controller he is clutching to maybe have been crushed into pieces with his freakish strength. Expected nothing except for a vein throbbing on his temple.

What you do find is-

Gun looking at you, fondness in his eyes. He's taking in your grin, letting your gloating slide.

Doesn't do more than roll his eyes when you perform a victory dance of sorts around him.

And when you get in his face to tell him that you're the winner, you're the best-

(More words are on the tip of your tongue but your gaze drops to his lip, drawn to the small smile he wears.

It sinks in.

The patience he has, the attention he gives, the way he has opened his home to you.

From the very first meeting, the even-handed way he has dealt with your insults, entertained you to the early hours of the morning on Tekken.)

Gun reaches out, tugs your hand and pulls you into his lap and agrees.

"Yes. The best."

You think it's a lie, an embellishment.

But the way he holds you - tender and precious, and the way he leans forward to rest his forehead against yours - soft, like you might break - can't be anything else but the whole truth.

(Update! Part 2 here!)

[lackadaisycats]

I’m getting really curious on the whole seemingly complex situation that is Mitzi’s romantic relationships.

Cause like, we got Zib, we got Atlas, AND we got Wick!

As far as I’m understanding Zib and Mitzi was like a situationship?? Or maybe just an unofficial relationship from teens to early twenties?? Like they have history together!

But then Atlas comes in and Mitzi kinda leaves Zib for him? Like did she just lose feelings for Zib all together and now only sees him as a friend in the current timeline?

WHATS THE LOVE STORY THERE??

Was there a messy breakup type ordeal??

Then theres Wick! Who I’m unsure if Mitzi does or doesn’t have genuine feelings for!

Cause like, her husbands been dead for a year? And now she’s smooching around with Wick? I can’t tell if this is simply a tactic Mitzi’s using to keep Wick wrapped around her finger or not.

Not that she’s doing it out of malicious intent! It’s clear she feels guilty when she had to use Wick. All things will go into deeper shit if she doesn’t have Wick around! So maybe she’s playing his heart to keep him around because she is extremely dependent on him money wise?? Or does she have actual feelings too??

Girlie has three (or more) men smitten by her! But does she feel the same way in return? I’m pretty confident she did at least have real genuine feelings for Zib in the past! But did she actually love Atlas or was it a marriage of convenience? Or Wick! Is it only a tactic to keep him around as long as possible or has she also had some feelings for him that she’s now partially showing cause her husbands been dead for a year!

Her love life looks so complex! I feel like she needs a drink with how many men seem to be into her at the same time!

sorry for the slight rant and multiple questions 😭

It is indeed messy and complicated, but I can't think of many romantic relationships that don't have some chaos woven in. Even taking account of meaningful, non-romantic relationships in my own lifetime with friends or family, "It's complicated" is an apt descriptor. She and Zib had a past, yes. There were definitely feelings involved, but the structure of the relationship was uncommitted and wishy-washy. Then some things happened that caught Zib by surprise. For indicators as to how Mitzi felt about Atlas, well, take into consideration that she still speaks to his portrait. You can maybe find some clues about the nature of their relationship in things that Zib and Mordecai say in Volume 2 of the comic. As for Wick, I hope it's clear there's at least some mutual attraction there. Mitzi's got her priorities, though, and Wick is actively trying to sort out exactly what his feelings are and where he draws a line in the course of the comic. Really, details are meant to unfold gradually in the story to paint a fuller picture of the past. Things you surmise about it and conclusions you draw (even if they don't ultimately line up with canon) are likely to be far more interesting than whatever dry explanations I could provide here, though.

[samuelsdean]

Stitch Me Up

pairing: dean winchester x reader

summary: for dean, every scrape, every gash, was a twisted plea for your touch.

genre: angst

word count: 0.5k

author's notes: i wrote this at 3 am on my notes app while simultaneously rewatching spn because i'm insane and i'm a huge advocate of touch-starved!dean.

THE METALLIC TANG OF BLOOD WAS DEAN'S CONSTANT UNPLEASANT FOREWARNING THAT DEAN HAD RETURNED—HE WAS HOME. Sprawled on the floor, another injury marring his flesh, and he sees you right there in front of him. He could see the anger in your eyes, could feel the fury that bubbles in your gut is ceaseless, a familiar dance with the ever-present terror.

For Dean, every scrape, every gash, was a twisted plea for your touch.

Dean loves it when you touch him, when you lay your hands gently on his skin, careful not to cause him more pain than what he is dealing with at the moment. He loves it when you clean his wounds while going off on another tangent as to how he should be more cautious—threatening him that next time, you would not be there to treat him; yet, every time, not one did you miss his homecoming, when he comes home bloodied, the first thing you do is come running and restoring him to full health. He craved your tirades, the harsh scoffs, and thinly veiled threats that were your flimsy shield against worry. Each rant was a desperate battle cry, a plea for him to be careful.

Yet, Dean could not help himself. He reveled in your ministrations, the gentle contrast to the fire of your anger.

Dean loves it when you tend to him because it is proof that you care.

And he craves it—craves you—your presence, your touch—everything. He thinks it is sickening how much he has grown to crave you. Because he thinks he does not deserve you, and he knows that the universe always tries to play a sick joke on him.

It was a warped version of his affection born from a life spent in the shadows. Love, for him, was a dangerous dance, a promise of heartbreak waiting to happen. People he cared about had a knack for disappearing, leaving him with the cold comfort of solitude. Hunting was a drifter's existence. A life with no room for roots or dreams. Letting someone in, and building a family, was a recipe for disaster.

It is a lonely life being a hunter. One could never have the chance to put down roots because there is always a monster to hunt, a demon to exorcise, and a case to solve. Loving someone and having a family is just a foolproof way of getting yourself hurt. Yet, here he was, craving the very thing he swore to avoid. It was a sickness, a yearning that gnawed at his soul.

Because the truth, the terrifying truth, was that Dean could not bear the thought of being truly alone.

The sting of disinfectant was a cruel reminder of his twisted reality. As you patched him up, his eyes, usually alight with mischief, held a touch of vulnerability. At that moment, Dean gave you a glimpse of his plea for something more than just mending—a desperate hope that maybe, just maybe, he could find a place in a world that felt increasingly fragile, right beside you.

But the question remained, a silent echo in the tense air: could you give him what he craved without sacrificing your own heart in the process?

[transform4u]

In the heart of bustling Austin, Texas, where the twang of southern drawls blends with the eclectic rhythm of city life, there was Chad Dalton, a buff wannabe bodybuilder, and personal trainer. At twenty-eight, he stood tall at 6’5” with a physique sculpted by years of relentless training and the grit of his rural upbringing. A former college football star turned gym trainer, Chad's presence in the fitness world was as commanding as his massive 269-pound frame.

Raised in a tight-knit southern community, Chad had brought with him not just his imposing stature but also an accent that marked him as unmistakably Texan. He wore it proudly, knowing well how it charmed the ladies or at least he believed it did. His alpha male demeanor and penchant for straight talk. The fact was Chad was a fucking douchebag.

Days were regimented with protein shakes and weightlifting sessions, a routine instilled by his former coach who had driven him to victory against their fiercest rivals. Now, Chad found himself in the role training others in the gym where his own legend grew. But mostly he liked to belittled the gay men in gym for their weak bodies. His impressive gains and bulging biceps made him a sight to behold, drawing admiration and envy alike from those around him.

And now here he was training people in this fancy gym instead of playing ball for some big-time team like everyone expected him to do after graduation. But screw them! Chad knew what was best for himself—and that meant staying single and focusing solely on improving himself physically so that no woman could resist his charm (or at least not for long).

Chad harbored views that were far from politically correct. His online rants against what he called "PC culture" and his dismissive remarks about "SJW chicks" were a stark contrast to the charismatic trainer who effortlessly charmed women at the gym.

One fateful evening, Chad found himself at a gay bar. It wasn’t the men he sought there, but rather the women—easy targets, he thought, like shooting fish in a barrel.

As Chad leaned casually against the bar, his eyes scanning the room for his next conquest, he spotted Samantha. With her blonde hair cascading over her shoulders and a figure that turned heads, she stood out even in the dimly lit bar. Determined to make an impression, Chad sauntered over with his characteristic confidence.

"Hey there, gorgeous," he drawled in his deep southern accent, flashing a grin that he knew had won over countless women before.

Samantha, however, gave him a skeptical look, her eyebrow raised as she sipped her cocktail. "Oh, hey," she replied coolly, clearly unimpressed. "You're quite the charmer, aren't you?"

Chad chuckled, undeterred by her lukewarm reception. "Can't help it when I see a beautiful lady like yourself," he replied, leaning in a bit closer.

She sighed, her annoyance thinly veiled. "Look, Chad, right?" Samantha asked, crossing her arms. "I'm not really into the whole 'gym bro' thing. All my friends here," she gestured subtly to the crowd around them, "they're all gay. I'm not sure you're their type."

Chad blinked, momentarily taken aback. "Oh, come on now, I'm just having a good time," he protested, trying to charm his way back into her good graces. "I'm sure we can find some common ground."

Samantha smirked, her eyes twinkling mischievously. "You know what, Chad? You seem like you could use another drink. Let me get you one," she said smoothly, turning to walk towards the bar.

Chad grinned broadly, thinking he was making progress. "Sure thing, sweetheart. I'll take whatever you're having," he called after her, watching as she ordered two drinks from the bartender.

Little did Chad know, Samantha was more than just a pretty face. As she whispered a quick incantation over one of the drinks, a sly smile played on her lips. And incantation that would turn Chad in the most stereotypical gay guy at the bar, at least what Chad would believe to be a stereotype. "By the power of three, by the might of me, transform this man into what he truly would hate to be. Make him gay as a rainbow flag flying high, with a love for glitter and all things shiny. Let his voice be like honeyed whispers in the night, his body lean and toned with just enough muscle tight. Give him confidence that knows no bounds, charm that turns heads around. May he become the stereotype he makes fun of so much, fill him with gay lust."

She slid both drinks across the bar towards Chad, who eagerly picked up the one she had touched.

"Here you go," Samantha said sweetly, handing him the glass.

Chad lifted the drink to his lips, taking a long sip and smacking his lips appreciatively. "Thanks, Samantha. So, tell me more about yourself," he prompted, trying to keep the conversation flowing.

But as the last drop of the enchanted drink slid down his throat, Chad began to feel a strange sensation. His muscles seemed to relax, and a warmth spread through his body. Confused, he looked around the bar, suddenly aware of the vibrant energy and the laughter of the patrons around him.

As Chad continued to sip his drink, unaware of Samantha's magical intervention, a strange sensation began to creep over him. At first, he felt a light-headedness, as if a fog had settled in his brain, making his thoughts feel like they were wrapped in cotton candy. Samantha watched with concealed amusement as Chad's voice started to rise in pitch, a puzzled look crossing his face.

"So, Samantha, I was saying," Chad began, his words coming out in a higher, more melodious tone than before, "what do you do for fun around here?"

Samantha nodded along, her smile widening as Chad's once towering presence seemed to shrink before her eyes. His shoulders relaxed, and his posture subtly changed, losing some of its imposing stature. Chad's height diminished gradually, inch by inch, until he stood at a more modest 5 foot 5, a far cry from his former 6 foot 5.

Chad blinked, feeling disoriented as he looked down at himself, noticing the sudden change in perspective. "Whoa," he muttered, his voice now distinctly softer and more delicate, was there a bit of a lisp even? "Something theels... different."

Samantha chuckled softly, her eyes twinkling mischievously as she observed the transformation taking place. "Looks like that drink had a bit of a kick, huh?" she teased lightly, handing Chad a napkin as he nearly stumbled against the bar, feeling off balance in his suddenly smaller frame.

Chad glanced around nervously, suddenly aware of the curious glances from other patrons in the bar. "What... what's happening to me?" he asked, his voice tinged with a mix of confusion and a hint of panic.

Samantha leaned in closer, her tone reassuring yet tinged with amusement. "Relax, Chad. It's just a little magic," she explained cryptically, watching as Chad's features softened, his muscles seeming to lose some of their bulk.

As the reality of his transformation settled in, Chad realized with growing alarm that he was not only physically shrinking but also beginning to adopt mannerisms that felt foreign to him. He clasped his hands together nervously, noticing the delicate shape of his fingers and the way his shoulders seemed to naturally curve inward.

"I... I feel different," Chad murmured, his voice now almost musical in its softness. "What did you do to me?"

Samantha chuckled again, a twinkle of mischief in her eyes. "Let's just say, you're about to see the world from a whole new perspective," she replied cryptically, gesturing for Chad to follow her as she led him towards the dance floor, where the rhythm of the music seemed to beckon him with a newfound allure.

As Chad tentatively took her hand and joined the dance, his movements were now graceful and fluid, a stark contrast to his former swaggering gait. Samantha watched with satisfaction, knowing that her playful spell had set in motion a transformation that would challenge Chad's perceptions of himself and those around him in ways he never expected.

As the music pulsed through the club, Chad's body moved with a new grace and ease that he had never experienced before. His movements were lithe and fluid, every step and sway feeling strangely natural yet unfamiliar. Gone were the bulky muscles honed from years of football practice and intense weightlifting sessions. Now, all he seemed to crave was the rhythmic beat of the dance floor.

With each passing moment, Chad felt lighter, as if a weight he hadn't realized he'd been carrying was lifting from his shoulders. The transformation was subtle at first, imperceptible to anyone but himself and Samantha, who watched with quiet amusement from the sidelines.

Chad's once prominent biceps and pecs began to shrink, the defined contours softening into a leaner, more slender form. His legs, once thick with muscle, now became toned and sleek, perfect for the agile movements of dancing. Abs that were once chiseled began to flatten slightly, a faint hint of definition remaining as his body reshaped itself.

But the most astonishing change was happening to Chad's face. Lines that had etched themselves from years of determined focus and occasional scowls smoothed away, replaced by a youthful glow that seemed to emanate from within. His features softened, his jawline becoming less angular, and his eyes sparkled with a newfound warmth and openness.

As his body continued to transform, Chad felt a curious sensation—a sensation of time rewinding. Memories of grueling football practices and weightlifting routines began to fade, replaced by a simpler desire for movement and joy. He felt a lightness of being, as if shedding layers of his former self to reveal a truer essence beneath.

And as the minutes passed, Chad's age seemed to rewind as well. From 27... to 26... to 25... and down, down, down until he settled at 21, the age where life had seemed full of possibilities and freedom, unburdened by the expectations he had once carried.

Samantha watched with satisfaction as Chad, now transformed into a young man with a twinkish charm that suited him far better than his former alpha persona, grinned back at her with a newfound radiance. His once cold demeanor had melted away, replaced by a warmth and kindness that drew people to him effortlessly.

"Wow," Chad murmured, running a hand through his newly tousled hair, feeling the lightness of his transformed body. "I... I feel different. Younger. Free."

Samantha nodded, her eyes gleaming with amusement and pride. "You look great," she said simply, knowing that Chad's journey was far from over but that this night had marked a profound shift in his life.

And as Chad embraced his new self, dancing under the lights with a joy and abandon he had never known, he realized that sometimes, a little magic was all it took to uncover who you were truly meant to be.

As Chad danced under the pulsing lights of the club, a transformation deeper than his physical appearance was taking hold. The music seemed to seep into his soul, stirring emotions and memories that felt simultaneously foreign and strangely familiar. With each beat, the memories of his rigorous gym routines, football practices, and the once cherished protein shakes faded like distant echoes.

He couldn't recall the details of his workouts or the names of his former teammates. The competitive drive that had fueled his athletic pursuits now seemed distant and irrelevant. Instead, a newfound appreciation for artistic expression blossomed within him, sparked by the melodies that enveloped him on the dance floor.

Chad's conservative edge softened and dissolved under the influence of the music. Ideas and beliefs he had staunchly defended began to shift, replaced by a liberal openness to new experiences and perspectives. He found himself drawn to conversations about social justice, equality, and inclusivity—topics that had never held his interest before.

As the night wore on, Chad's interests continued to evolve. He discovered a deep love for musical theatre and showtunes, melodies that spoke to emotions he had never fully explored. Memories of his college years resurfaced, reminding him of the acting classes he had once taken, the stage he had once tread upon with dreams of performing.

"I used to love acting," Chad murmured to Samantha between songs, his voice soft and introspective. "I remember now... I wanted to be an actor."

Samantha smiled knowingly, her eyes reflecting pride in Chad's newfound self-discovery. "You've always had a flair for drama," she teased gently, watching as Chad's face lit up with a childlike enthusiasm.

"Yeah," Chad nodded, a spark of excitement igniting in his eyes. "I'm going to be totes hungover for classes."

As Chad continued to dance, the rhythm of the music intertwined with his shifting identity. Memories of his former self, Chad the alpha gym bro, seemed to dissolve like mist in the vibrant lights of the club. Instead, a new persona emerged—a carefree and effervescent spirit that Chad had never known before.

"Sammmyyy!" Chad exclaimed with a giggle, his voice tinged with a playful lilt as he twirled around Samantha, who watched with a mixture of amusement and awe. "You're, like, my fag hag now, right? I totes don't wanna ditch you, but like, I'm here to snag the cutest boys tonight. It's Pride, for gosh sakes!"

Samantha laughed, her eyes twinkling with affection for the transformed Chad, now Gabriel—or Gabby, as everyone called him. She nodded along as Gabby spoke in cute little TikTok lingo, his speech peppered with heart emojis and playful hashtags.

As the night progressed, Gabby's transformation continued. His once sturdy frame morphed into something more lithe and youthful, clad in tight booty shorts and a crop top that accentuated his newly slender physique. His hair, once meticulously styled, now tumbled into a tousled mess of blonde locks that framed his youthful face.

Gone was the crude and brash language of Chad, replaced by the sweet and endearing chatter of a cute and somewhat vapid himbo. Gabby flitted from group to group, flashing bright smiles and striking poses for selfies, his newfound charm drawing admirers like moths to a flame.

"OMG, you guys are so cute!" Gabby squealed, snapping a series of selfies with a group of fellow partygoers. "Let's get this on TikTok, like, ASAP!"

Samantha watched with pride as Gabby embraced his new identity with unabashed enthusiasm. It was as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders, allowing him to embrace the freedom and joy of being his true self—a persona that shimmered with positivity and a zest for life.

As a rising TikTok star, Gabby had amassed a following drawn to his infectious energy and charming personality. His videos were a mix of dance challenges, lip-sync performances, and heartfelt messages about self-love and acceptance. With a knack for engaging storytelling and an unapologetic love for all things fabulous, Gabby's feed was a vibrant reflection of his newfound identity.

In addition to his social media success, Gabby was pursuing a degree in Theatre, where his natural talent for performance shone brightly. He could captivate an audience with his singing voice, whether it was belting out a Broadway ballad or charming patrons in a cozy bar with his favorite showtune.

Gabby woke up the next morning, his body still sore from the night before. Hungover as fuck. He glanced over at the muscular otter sleeping soundly beside him, a smile tugging at his lips as he took in their intertwined limbs and sweat-dampened skin.

As the first light of morning filtered through the curtains, Gabby stirred, slowly becoming aware of the warm, solid presence beside him. His eyes fluttered open, and he turned his head to see a man lying next to him, the sheets barely covering his muscular, hairy chest. Gabby blinked, trying to piece together the events of the night before and struggling to recall the man's name.

Sensing Gabby's movement, the man beside him opened his eyes and smiled warmly. "Good morning. I'm Brad, by the way."

Gabby’s heart skipped a beat as he took in the sight of Brad. He had a rugged handsomeness that seemed almost sculpted—strong jawline, perfectly tousled dark hair, and a five o'clock shadow that gave him an effortlessly masculine appeal. His deep brown eyes were filled with an inviting warmth that made Gabby’s pulse quicken.

Brad’s body was a marvel to behold. His broad shoulders and expansive chest tapered down to a well-defined abdomen. Each muscle seemed to be meticulously chiseled, and his skin bore a healthy tan that spoke of time spent outdoors. The light dusting of hair on his chest added to his raw, primal allure.

Gabby couldn’t tear his eyes away from Brad’s pecs, which were impressive and inviting. His gaze lingered, tracing the lines of Brad’s muscles, and he felt a surge of desire. Brad noticed Gabby’s stare and grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief. He gave Gabby a slow, deliberate wink and began to flex, his muscles rippling under his skin.

Without warning, Brad pulled Gabby close, their bodies pressing together, and captured Gabby’s lips in a passionate kiss. The intensity of the kiss made Gabby’s head spin, and he melted into Brad’s embrace, his hands roaming over the hard planes of Brad’s back. Brad’s strong arms wrapped around him, holding him firmly yet tenderly.

Gabby’s mind raced, filled with the overwhelming attraction he felt for Brad. Every touch, every movement only heightened his desire. Brad’s kisses trailed from Gabby’s lips to his neck, making him shiver with anticipation.

"I can’t wait to go again," Brad murmured against Gabby’s skin, his voice a low, husky whisper that sent shivers down Gabby’s spine.

Gabby could hardly breathe, his heart pounding in his chest. The morning sun bathed them in a soft glow, and for a moment, the world outside ceased to exist.

Gabby couldn't help but feel a rush of excitement as he gazed upon Brad's muscular form. He was everything Gabby had ever fantasized about in a partner—strong, confident, and undeniably sexy.

"Wait," he said softly before leaning in for a passionate kiss that left Gabby reeling with desire. When they finally broke apart, Brad looked deep into Gabby's eyes and said simply: "I want you."

Without another word, they tumbled over and over in bed together. Hands roamed freely over each other's skin while lips locked hungrily together in fiery kisses that left both men breathless yet yearning for more. As Brad reached down to stroke his hard cock against Gabby's ass cheek teasingly through his briefs—a silent invitation accepted without hesitation—Gabby felt himself melting into pure bliss under this newfound lover's touch...

Gabby gasped as Brad's fingers traced a path down his spine, sending shivers of pleasure coursing through his body. He couldn't help but moan softly in response to the sensation, arching his back slightly to give Brad better access.

Brad chuckled softly against Gabby's neck before leaning in for another passionate kiss that left both men breathless yet yearning for more. As their tongues danced together teasingly within the confines of their mouths, Gabby felt himself growing increasingly horny and horny—a feeling only heightened when Brad finally pulled away with a wicked grin on his face.

"Ready?" he asked playfully before reaching over to grab a condom from the bedside table without waiting for an answer; clearly implying that he was going to take what he wanted regardless if Gabby was prepared or not…

Gabby nodded eagerly, his heart racing with anticipation as Brad rolled the condom onto his already-hard cock. Without further ado, he positioned himself behind Gabby and slowly pushed into him in one smooth motion.

Gabby let out a soft moan of pleasure at the sensation of being filled so completely by someone else for the first time; it was both exhilarating and terrifying all at once—a heady mix of emotions that left him reeling with desire for more. As Brad began to move within him slowly yet deliberately, Gabby couldn't help but wrap his arms around Brad's shoulders tightly while arching his back slightly off the bed in response to each thrust; their bodies becoming one fluid motion as they lost themselves entirely within this moment together…

Their passionate lovemaking continued well into the afternoon, fueled by an undeniable chemistry that seemed to ignite between them from the very beginning. As Brad's movements grew more urgent and primal with each passing minute, Gabby found himself matching his rhythm perfectly—lost in a haze of pleasure as he surrendered completely to this newfound connection between them.

Finally, after what felt like hours but could only have been minutes in reality, Brad let out a loud cry before collapsing onto Gabby's sweat-dampened skin. For his part, Gabby couldn't help realize he was now nothing but a horny, slutty twink and he loved it. Time to make a Grindr profile.

[theemporium]

🥺👉👈

Best friend Eddie has had a *thing* for reader since middle school. But is worried to go for it (reader is sweet, smart, and funny. Probably would be popular if she didn't spend so much time with the "freaks".) So he'll take any little bit of affection he can get from her.

(I think we've all seen from the show and the interviews that JQ's love language is touch.)

Maybe Eddie starts hugging her and holding her a lot until one day at lunch he puts his hand on her knee and she moves it onto her thigh under her skirt (?).

You can take it from there 😂 that's the extent of my genius.

thank you for requesting!🖤

part two

.

Eddie Munson had always been an affectionate and touchy guy. 

You had been friends with him for many years and it was an undeniable fact the boy loved to show his affection through physical touch. Whether it was an arm thrown over the shoulders of the younger boys in the club as they make their way to the classroom to start the latest campaign, or whether it was knocking shoulders and excitedly hugging his bandmates when they make a breakthrough on a song they had been working on. 

Eddie was an affectionate guy and that treatment was extended to you too. 

It also just happened that he had a massive fucking crush on you and felt like his heart was going to burst through his chest every time he touched you.

It had been a normal Thursday. Classes had been long and torturous, but Eddie was practically bouncing in his seat to head towards the cafeteria for lunch. When he walked into the room, he saw you sitting in your usual seat—the one right next to him at the head of the table.

It was difficult to wipe the grin off his face as he made his way towards the table, slumping down into his seat and not even wasting a moment before he was gripping the back of your chair, dragging you close enough until your thighs were pressed together. He did this every day but something about you liked the way your heart skipped when he pulled you closer. 

It baffled Eddie why you always sat with them. You weren’t in Hellfire, not really. You never played but you enjoyed listening to them rant and ramble about it. You had other friends you could have sat with, ones that wouldn’t have made you seem as though you were a ‘freak’ along with the rest of them. But despite Eddie’s insistence that he wouldn’t be offended if you sat somewhere else, you still chose the seat right next to him—to make your own point. 

You were very happy and content where you were, settled under Eddie’s arm with your head resting against his shoulder as he continued to discuss the latest campaign with the other boys. You smiled softly, watching how excited and animated they got and the way Eddie’s face glistened in pride at how much they loved his campaign. 

But then your thoughts started to wander and you felt something warm just above your knee, your eyes darting down to see Eddie subconsciously place his hand on your thigh and gently stroke the skin exposed by your skirt. 

You pressed your lips together, not saying anything. You didn’t want him to move his hand, maybe because you weren’t sure Eddie saw you as anything but a best friend. And with this—with this, you could pretend it was something more. 

Then his hand moved up a little, the movement almost a little hesitant like he was waiting for you to push it back down. 

But you didn’t. 

You waited for him to shift higher but it stayed firmly where it was, a couple of inches below the hem of your skirt. Your eyes darted up, seeing the boys still screaming and yelling at each other across the table and lost in their own conversation. You stole a quick glance at Eddie, finding his eyes firmly stuck on the boys but the hint of a smirk on his lips gave you another idea. 

Your fingers slowly wrapped around his wrist, giving it a soft squeeze before you began to guide his hand higher up your thigh. It inched closer and closer until—

Eddie cleared his throat when you pushed his hand under your skirt, your thighs clenching together to trap his hand there. He pressed his lips together, forcing himself to keep his face neutral as though blood wasn’t roaring in his ears and going straight down to his cock. 

Your legs parted a little, just enough for him to move his fingers once again. You kept your gaze anywhere but your lap, the heat rushing to your cheeks warning enough that you would instantly blow your cover if you saw the sight of his hand between your legs. 

Eddie’s fingers slowly crawled further up your leg, his fingertips teasing your clothed cunt. You let out a small gasp, quickly covering it up with a cough as you felt his fingers press more firmly against your panties.

You nuzzled yourself against his side, the action not uncommon and, therefore, ignored by the rest of the group. Your face was practically pressed against the fabric of his jacket, muffling the small sounds that left your lips as his fingers grazed up and down your cunt—the touch too light but enough to make you squirm.

Nobody even questioned it when Eddie ducked his head down, his lips pressed against your ear and his warm breath fanned across your skin. 

“You’re so wet, baby,” he muttered, his voice low enough that only you could hear him. “And I’ve barely even touched you.” 

“Eddie,” you breathed out. 

“I didn’t know you liked this kinda stuff, sweetheart,” he murmured, his fingers pushing against your clothed clit as you fought the urge to squirm. “Letting me do this to you when anybody could see.” 

“Shit,” you hissed, the fabric of your panties soaked. 

“Who knew my best friend was such a slut,” he cooed softly. 

“Eds,” you whined slightly, your cheeks flushing when you felt his thumb press slow circles on your clit. 

“Or maybe you’re just a slut f’me,” he teased, grinning a little when you nodded your head. “A shame, baby.” 

Before you could even process his words or the way your stomach twisted in delight at his words, he was pulling his hand away and resting his hands on the table like nothing happened. 

You gaped at him, your panties now soaked and your body desperate to feel his touch again but the boy just shot you a look. 

“Later,” he said, eyes darkening a little when he noticed the way your thighs clenched together. “Keep ‘em on all day and you’ll get a reward later, in my van.” 

You bit your bottom lip. 

His lips grew into a smirk. “Gonna make sure that pretty little skirt of yours is fucking ruined, sweetheart, don’t worry.”

And then he returned to the conversation about his campaign like nothing was wrong.

.

[enwoso]

WILDFLOWER — leah williamson

based on my interpretation of the song by billie

just as a heads up before people start for the sake of the plot we are going to PRETEND lia and leah were a thing. I KNOW that they may not of ever been a thing but it’s just fiction ok, no way am i trying to ship them or anything like that! thanks and enjoy she’s a long one xox

warnings?: breaking of girl code, suggestions of smut, swear words, just sadness and if you squint some fluff. probs some others small things i’ve missed..

navigation

"it's going to get better lia, i promise" you whispered as you comforted your best friend, lying in her bed your arms wrapped around her as she cried her heart out to you. her emotions were all still pretty raw, the reality of her recent breakup really hitting her all at once.

lia had been with leah williamson for just over a year, but things fell apart and even though they both did the same job, time broke both their hearts. with one being in england and other being somewhere else in the world wasn't ideal for either.

you hadn't seen much of lia and leah's relationship considering you didn't see either of them everyday due to you playing for the west side of london, chelsea.

but you knew that she was lia's girl and she had showed her the world. you had heard about all the cute things they would do before things fell apart, how lia would talk about the blonde and overall how in love lia was with her.

so seeing them fall out of love was hard, you felt for your best friend. seeing her so upset was breaking your own heart. knowing there was nothing you could do except let her cry on your shoulder and comfort her when she needed it most.

"i miss her so much, y/n" lia sniffled her voice croaky and hash from crying as her eyes were red and puffy, a pout forming on your face as you nodded along to her rant as you hand rubbed up and down her back slowly letting her get it out instead of bottling up which you knew she'd been doing for the past few days.

"i know lia and that's totally normal, but you deserve better and i know you know that" you sighed softly moving a strand of her hair from her face, as she nodded slightly. lia knew you were right but hearing it aloud made it real and she didn't know if she was ready to hear that just yet.

it had been a few days since you were sat in lia's apartment comforting her and lia was getting ready to go back to switzerland in a couple days time to see her family before her summer holiday and lia had assigned you the task of going to get her things from leah's. the swiss saying she needed to pack a few things out of the things she'd left there.

so pulling up to the blondes apartment on a random wednesday in june you prayed she was home, totally forgetting to maybe send a message to ask if you could come and collect your best friends things.

three knocks and a few minutes passed and the blonde was stood in front of you, hair a little messy as she was dressed in joggers and blue hoodie. her eyes a little red and puffy which was more than likely a sign the breakup had also hit her too.

"um hi" you smiled awkwardly not really knowing how to greet the blonde, you knew leah to a point but you wouldn't say you were friends more just friend of a friend? or in simpler terms you knew of the british captain through lia — only ever having the odd conversation if you'd been with lia when leah was there.

leah raised her eyebrows looking shocked at the sight of you standing at her front door. "hey, not to be rude but why are you here- did lia not-" leah began the door still only open a little bit as she leaned against it.

"oh sorry, i should have message just lia said some of her things are still here and asked if i could get them?" you cleared up the small misunderstanding as leah hummed stepping aside from leaning against the door so you could go into her apartment.

"you might have to give me a few minutes to find all of her stuff" leah gave you a small smile as you nodded taking in your surroundings.

the photos of leah and her family in photo frames on the coffee table as well as the walls, some of baby leah and who you were guessing to be her younger brother and other of leah from the past few months. the colours around the apartment being very neutral which matched the blonde personality.

smiling to yourself at the sight of some of the small tributes to arsenal which decorated the girls home, leah having been a die hard arsenal fan it would be surprising if she didn't have arsenal related memorabilia in her home.

"yeah sorry about that i should have give you the heads up" you apologised as leah waved off your attempts with the same small smile.

"no worries, erm you can sit down you know" leah pointed out as you were kind of just hovering in her living room area.

"right, yeah- sorry" you mumbled out as unknown to you leah rolled her eyes playfully at your excessive apologies. sitting down on the couch, sinking into the softness of it as leah called out that she wouldn't be long as you hummed response while getting your phone out to message lia letting her know that you wouldn't be long.

you ended up just scrolling aimlessly through your phone, your own little bubble consuming you to the point where you didn't even realise leah was back in the living room or the fact she was even talking to you.

"y/n!" her voice echoed throughout the apartment as you jumped a little at the sudden loud noise, looking up slowly from your phone. seeing the blonde stood in front of you with a brown cardboard box in her hands.

"is that it all?" you questioned looking at the box which actually appeared to be quite full, as the blonde nodded a small sniffle coming from her as you frowned slightly.

"are you gonna be okay?" you asked softly not wanting her to think you were overstepping but leah put the box down on the coffee table as she moved to sit next to you on her couch.

"yeah.. no- i don't know" her milton keynes accent was coming through thick as she sighed, you looked to her a sympathetic look on your face.

you knew this must be hard for her too, you knew she loved lia. "i know we aren't really friends but i'm here if you need someone to talk to" you pointed out, your hand resting on her knee.

"thanks y/n, i really appreciate that" she smiled, and for the first time since you arrived it looked genuine as her eyes then moved to where your hand was rested on her knee.

following her eye line before quickly snatching your hand away from her knee, "sorry, i- i didn't mean to make-" you quickly rambled out but you quickly noticed that leah still had the same smile on her face.

"it's okay, relax." you breathed out, your heart beating a lot slower than it was seconds ago as you moved to stand up.

"well i better get these back to their owner!" you picked up the box from the coffee table as leah also got up leading you to the door, opening it for you.

"thanks leah, i'll see you around!" you gave a small wave  with your hand before catching the box again before you dropped it.

a light giggle coming from leah. "bye!" as you walked down the corridor towards the lift.

since being at leah's that day, you had found yourself around the blonde captain a lot more than you liked to admit out loud. although with lia being away it gave you someone to hang out with, is what you were telling yourself.

you were stood in her kitchen making both you and leah some food, you being left in charge after finding out leah couldn't cook to save her own life and actually being quite hungry yourself you figured if you wanted something decent it was best to do it yourself.

leah was of course still in close proximity, doing her best to distract you. "did you know that strawberries are not actually a berry!" she told you, this was the seventh random fact she had given you.

"how do you know that?" you asked lifting your eyes from cutting the vegetables that were set on the kitchen counter majority for you as leah's tastebuds weren't as adventurous when it came to food as you had discovered.

leah shrugged she didn't really know it, cause she didn't even know if it was true. she felt it was though she can vague remember seeing it online or maybe someone told her about it. she remembers something being mentioned somewhere about strawberries and berry's!

"that's so stupid! where do you keep your bowls?” you asked as you stood in the center of her kitchen. leah being leah though couldn’t verbally tell you she instead wrapped her arms around you waist while walking you over to where the bowls were kept.

“there in that one” leah pointed out to one of the many lower cupboard which the bowls were in. “you could have just told me you know!” you laughed out loud at the blonde’s silliness.

“where’s the fun in that though!”

moving without thinking, as you bent down forgetting about leah’s hands which were snaked around your waist you felt your bum be pressed flush against the blondes front. unbeknownst to you leah was trying her best not to whine for you.

picking up the bowl size you needed and placing back on the counter as you stood back up, as you turned to face the blonde, being met with a small sheepish smile. "hi"

"hi" she breathed out her face inches away from touching yours. the blonde looking into eyes deciding if she was going to make the move or if she was waiting for you to, seconds later bringing her hand up to your face, cupping your cheek and using her thumb to run across your cheekbones, pulling you that little bit closer to her.

allowing leah to pull you closer, only stopping when your faces were mere inches away. leah's hand remaining in its place. taking in being able to feel your soft skin under her finger tips as your back was pressed against the cold counter top of her kitchen.

if you moved even the slightest your lips would graze, you both being so close to each other you could feel your breath mixing together.

"please" you whimpered, at first you weren't sure what you were begging for but you were unable to stop the tone. "what?" leah innocently asked as a smirk appeared on her face as you rolled your eyes.

you could feel leah's lips graze yours as you moved that little bit closer, your lips now ever so slightly touching.

"le kiss me-" you breathed out, leah nodding and moving her head forward allowing your lips to connect properly.

your hand resting on the blondes hip, pinching it slightly as the blonde let out a small moan, getting the sound that you wanted to hear more and more.

leah ran her hand that was previously on your cheek to the back of your neck, "i love you" leah moaned into the kiss, the suddenness of her words shocking your body’s . that was the first time she had said that out loud. your head quickly telling you that you shouldn't be kissing her.

"le, we can't." you whispered as you pushed her away, your breathing slightly hitched as your mind replayed the three words she had just said seconds ago.

awkwardness filling your kitchen as guilt began to consume you. that was your best friends ex. were you crossing a line?

"why?" leah was confused and hurt. you asked her to kiss her now you were backpedaling.

"cause you've just gotten out of a relationship" you said simply as if it was the most obvious answer you could have given her.

"that can't happen again, it was a mistake" you regretted it as soon as you said it. deep down you knew you didn't mean it. but your head was telling you different, you did mean it and it wouldn't happen again. it couldn't.

but it did.

after the first kiss, it wasn't the last. you had spaced yourself away from leah but you felt this attachment to her something always drew you back to her, it was strange but you didn't do anything to try and stop it. you craved her.

but after each time, when you were lying awake alone in your own bed sheets you felt guilt, you knew you shouldn't and it lingered in the back of your mind. like a fever. like you were burning in hell. like a sign.

your friendship with lia was important to you, after all when you first moved just a little over five years ago she was the only person you knew, she's been there since the start. but when you were with leah, you were a different person. you were happy and free, you felt safe around her.

the thought of lia's reaction was what was eating you alive at nights. what would she think, would she still be your friend, what if she didn't even care, what if she already knew, what if she hated you for it.

the what ifs haunted you at night when you tried to sleep.

you knew you should just put it all behind you, that maybe you should break things off with leah cause after all nothing good ever last forever.

but you couldn’t, you didn’t want to.

cause at the end of the day you still somehow found your self with the blonde brit, hands intertwined and body's pushed close together.

like tonight where you were wrapped in your bed sheets, as leah watched how your top brow crinkled as you focused on the film. a small fuzzy feeling growing inside of leah, her heart beating that little bit faster.

leah had grown bored of the film within the first few minutes instead using the time to just make the most of the time with you, your fingers intertwined as she occasionally placed kisses on your cheek.

before moving to your chin, and your jawline and then lower to your neck whispering sweet nothing in your ear as she did. you thanked that the lights were off otherwise leah would have seen how your cheeks turned bright red when she kissed a certain spot on your neck.

the kissed soon turned into small bites a long with her sucking on a your sweet spot, your hips bucking slightly along with your eyes fluttering close from time to time as you withheld the urge to moan and give into her teasing.

her lips soft and everything you remember from the last time. how she knew your body, how to rile you up so fast.

but then you remember your best friend, lia. the guilt pending in your stomach as you were kissing the girl who broke your best friends heart. you were crossing a line.

"le stop-" you mumbled out against her lips, pushing her away from you. as she frowned at you, her brows knitted together.

"if lia find out- i- she'll" you stumbled over your words not being able to find the words as leah rested her hands on your hips a sharp sigh coming from her lips as you couldn't look up from the ground, to face her loving eyes.

"love, you need to stop worrying about lia- she's- it's stopping you from being happy" leah whispered, maybe she was right but you can't loose your best friend over a relationship. but could you loose a potential relationship over a friend?

but lia was your best friend, she helped you when you moved from your home town to london. she was there for you when you missed your family, she was the one that dropped everything for you when you needed help finding yourself again. lia was always there.

"we can't though- i can't." you stutter out. "why though, can't you see that i love you" leah said her voice getting softer as she kept you close to her.

"no. l-leah this is wrong, i can't do this anymore, not to lia. she comes back in two days-“ your head was spiralling, you weren't sure what had switched in your head so quick as there was so much going on inside your head but also nothing at all.

"you can't always help who you fall for"

"but i was the one who fucking sat with her when you call things off with her, told her it would be alright while she cried to me that she missed you, she my fucking best friend leah!" your voice had risen a little but you weren't shouting. your tone was sharp as you pushed her hands off your waist which took leah by surprise but she knew the guilt you felt about getting with her.

"then why am i stood in your apartment" leah pointed out as she watched you look up at her slowly shrugging her shoulders, leah's face blank filled with no emotion.

"i- i" you whispered you tried but you couldn't find a reason why, you could feel your lip trembling your eyes filling with tears. the realisation of what you were doing hitting you like a brick.

your hands covering your face as your breathing felt heavy. you felt stuck, not only in place but mentally too. your feelings for leah were beginning to feel more real, maybe you did love her but your friendship with lia was also very important to you and something you valued.

you felt like a wildflower. instead of being left to grow and stem out you had to be picked by someone.

you felt leah sit down next to you, part of you was hoping she was gonna leave but you knew in her heart that she cared for you deeply and to leave you when your head was clearly not in the right place would be wrong, even if you were hurting leah in the process.

"breathe y/n" she spoke softly her hand rubbing up and down your bare arm as your breathing was beginning to slow.

"m'sorry le" you mumbled your voice corse as tears still rolled down your face as the blonde pulled you into a side hug, as she tucked your hair behind your ears.

minutes passed as you sat in silence waiting for the other one to break the silence.

"i'm not gonna act as if it doesn't hurt but i get your in a hard place when im your best friends ex, and i know i don't have to remind you that i love you cause i know you. and i know i act as if it doesn't hurt when you push me away cause i know you don't mean it but, but it does y/n. i want nothing more than to be able to call you mine, show you off to everyone cause i see myself spending the rest of my life with you." leah confessed, and if your heart didn't already feel heavy enough it did now.

being totally wrapped up in the way lia may feel, you had neglected leah's feelings. selfishly not thinking how much it may be affecting leah.

"i'm sorry, leah i really am i just need time" you spoke finally from your heart, feeling leah nod against you as she began to move from your couch. kissing the top of your head as she walked out of your apartment, the door clicking shut as you felt your body sink into your couch.

it had been a few weeks since you spoke to her, lia was back and you had seen her a few times talking over a coffee as she told you all about switzerland and her holiday before asking what you had been up to in the month she’d been away, not being able to bring yourself to tell her about a certain blonde. you lied, telling her ‘not a lot.’

but for you the few weeks had been a good insight for you to reflect on your feelings and come to terms with what they actually meant. to the point where you knew exactly what you had to do.

the blonde over the past few weeks had sent you a few messages asking how you were to which you replied with a simple one word answer.

the blonde taking the hint at your bluntness that you still needed time and space so the messages had stopped, so when she heard knocking on her door, you were the last person she expected to be stood at the other side of her door.

"y/n?" leah looked at you with confusion, her eyes flicking to the flowers she guessing you had picked yourself as they were wrapped in a piece of newspaper.

"i love you."

[dark-night-hero]

Imagine being Yoichi Isagi's older sibling.

"Who's that?" In the middle of their gathering as this happened to be their first week off at blue lock, Chigiri was the first to notice the presence of other from afar. "Yeah, who's that? They've been looking at us ever since we got here." This time it was Bachira whom have been long aware of the other person presence ever since they have gathered in the cafe. "And they're good looking too." Eita spoke that causes everyone to look at the person they were talking about. It was a person wearing shades and a mask, so how could Eita tell they were good looking? "Who- ah. That's my older sibling." This time it was Isagi who spoke. "Who-?! What?!"

Imagine, as far as you are aware of. Your younger brother Isagi was supposed to be on that so called project, blue lock? Was it? So now that you have seen him in the midst of the crowd in the middle of your agenda. You cannot helo but to observe him in the far distance, was that really your younger brother? Come to think of it, your mother has been urging you to attend some game just a couple of days ago as well as making you come home last time. But you cannot, you are busy nowadays.

Imagine, just a couple of seconds ago you are pretty sure they were all looking at you. And now, they are all in front of you with Isagi at front leading them in tow. "It's really you kiddo." You spoke in awe once he was in front of you. "Are these your friends? That quite... a lot." With all sorts of hair color variety too causing you to sweat drop. "Well... things happened. But! These are my friends from blue lock, and this is my older sibling, Isagi (First name)." "It's a pleasure to meet my younger brother's friend." You chuckle, removing your mask as you throw your arm around Yoichi's shoulder and making a two finger salute towards his friend that have their jaw dropped. "You bastard! You never told us you have an older sibling let alone a them being a model!"

Imagine tagging along with them. Sure you were in the middle of your agenda butttt that could wait, you haven't hangout with your brother for a while now. Besides, it was fun to have them around, youths have their own ways of enjoying and it's really fun. So you tag along, paying things on their behalf as the oldest among them despite those punks being loaded as fuck. Damn, they even have the Mikage heir among them and that young model you have seen before. Still, the point is that you are the oldest, and you have taken a liking on these punks so it was your treat. Not that you played with them though, you just watch them from the side. Looking at your brother fondly with a smile on your lips.

Imagine having a smoke break, a piece of cigarette yet to be lit up on your lips as you lean against the wall on an alley when you heard a footsteps coming towards you. "You smoke?" You shake your head, finger reaching out for the cigarette on your lips before signing your brother to come closer. "Why are you outside? Aren't there more time left at the karaoke?" "Oh, I just went outside for a breather." You nod once again and silence take over the place. Suddenly you really want to smoke but held it in as you open your mouth. "So.. How's blue lock?" It was an unexpected question coming from you, at least for Isagi. You have never taken interest when it comes to such things after all. But now that you asked, his eyes sparkle unknowingly. You on the other hand listened as your brother rant about his life inside the blue lock.

Imagine in the middle of their bowling match, in the midst of fun, you receive a text message from your manager causing you to bid your goodbye to them. "Oh." You look back at them that was watching your departure. "It might be too much to ask but please take a good care of my brother." You bow before standing up straight again. "And Yoichi." Before he knew it, a card was thrown in his face. "Feel free to treat your friend and buy whatever you want, you're at home till the end of the week right? I'll come home tomorrow." You spoke looking at him. "Well then, goodbye." With a silly as salute and a wink, you turn your back at them.

Imagine, Isagi always found you intimidating. Maybe it was the age gap between the two of you or the difference in your personality but you were quite hard to get along with to be honest. But now that he think about it. "Woah, you have such cool sibling, Isagi." His friends- his team mates exclaimed, even Aiku and his team could only agree. And with a laugh, "Yeah, so cool, right?" Isagi said smiling.

[ⓒdark-night-hero] 2024°