#and error. that's. that's the other half that's the rest of your soul that the guy you spent ages practicing speaches and monologes to talk

[st3f13ily]

Dating The Impossible

• Reverse Romance Trope

• Instead of Fake dating, everyone is convinced you aren't dating.

• Itoshi Sae x Influencer Chaotic Reader

• Sorry, I don't really know how this will goes, probably gonna be confusing and all, I just put whatever is on my mind.

"You know how some people say their life is a rom-com? Yeah, no. Mine is more like a chaos-com. I wake up tangled in bedsheets like a burrito, burn half my breakfasts, and trip over absolutely nothing at least once a day. But hey, at least I make it look cute. Or so my fans say."

"You've probably seen me online."

"The loud, over-the-top influencer with an obsession for bubble tea, oversized hoodies, and singing off-key on live streams. Yeah, that's me. Sunshine's personality is a human disaster, and I'm proud of it. My life is like an endless string of events, collaborations, photoshoots, and the occasional scandal where people assume I'm dating half the industry just because I smiled too wide in a selfie."

"But... plot twist. The rumors were all wrong. The truth? I've been dating Sae Itoshi."

"Yes. That Sae Itoshi."

"The national heartthrob, soccer prodigy, king of the resting deadpan face. The man who kicks balls for a living and somehow looks like he invented the concept of "too cool to care." That's my boyfriend."

"Shocking, right? I know, I know. You're probably making the same face my best friend did when I told her."

"Mouth open, brain error, blue screen."

"But!—ah, ah, ah—before I spill the tea on how that happened... let's rewind."

"It wasn't on a fancy red carpet or an exclusive afterparty."

"Nope. The universe had something more... clumsy planned."

"It was just another Tuesday. I was running late, of course, because of punctuality and I have never been on speaking terms. Sunglasses perched on my head, iced coffee in one hand, and phone in the other, trying to post a "good morning" selfie to my feed without walking into traffic. Multitasking: my toxic trait."

"And then, boom."

"Literally. I slammed right into someone."

"My coffee went flying, my phone almost joined it, and I stumbled back like a cartoon character. I looked up, ready to apologize to whoever the poor soul was and there he stood."

"Tall. Cool. Expression flat enough to rival the moon’s surface."

"A guy in casual clothes, baseball cap pulled low, hands stuffed in his pockets like he’d rather be anywhere else."

"And me? The clueless fool who thought. Huh. Cute stranger."

"I had no idea I'd just bumped into Itoshi Sae himself. And him? Oh, he definitely thought I was just another random, overly smiley girl with zero spatial awareness."

"Funny, right?"

"But, I'm getting ahead of myself again. You want the real story, don't you? The how, the why, the wait, really? moments."

"Well... hold tight. Because that, my lovely little chaos crew, is a story for another day."

"And speaking of stories, my livestream timer's blinking at me. Time to hit the "Go Live" button and let the circus begin."

"Story starts now: me, my camera, my fans, and one accidental love story I never saw coming."

.....

.....

.....

.....

Beep.

Beep.

BEEEEEP.

You swatted your alarm clock like it had personally insulted your family name, groaning into your pillow. Five more minutes. Just five more, universe, please. But the sun was already slapping you across the face through your curtains like it had a personal vendetta.

Reluctantly, you peeled yourself from your cozy blanket cocoon and rolled out of bed emphasis on rolled because grace was never part of your brand. You did a little zombie shuffle toward the bathroom, catching sight of your bedhead in the mirror.

"Wow. A masterpiece." you mumbled to yourself, finger-combing your tangled mess like it would magically fix anything. Spoiler: it didn't.

Your morning routine was a wild mix of chaos and caffeine. Face wash? Check. Skincare? Check—uhhhhhh—mostly. Coffee? Priority number one. You fired up your machine and did a little dance while waiting, humming off-key to whatever pop song was stuck in your head. You were halfway through pouring your coffee when your phone buzzed.

[Your BFF]: 𝗔𝗿𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘀𝘁𝗶𝗹𝗹 𝗮𝗹𝗶𝘃𝗲??

You grinned, sending back: 𝗕𝗮𝗿𝗲𝗹𝘆. 𝗖𝗼𝗳𝗳𝗲𝗲 𝗳𝗶𝗿𝘀𝘁, 𝗹𝗶𝗳𝗲 𝘀𝗲𝗰𝗼𝗻𝗱.

You flopped onto the couch with your mug and pulled out your phone, opening your livestream app. Your followers were already leaving comments on your last post:

"You're late today, queen!"

"She lives!! What's the chaos plan for today?"

You snorted into your coffee, holding up your phone for a quick selfie.

"Good morning, chaos crew!" you chirped to your camera. "Guess who overslept again? Spoiler: it's me. But plot twist, today I have a story. And it's about a certain someone."

You paused, flashing your most dramatic grin.

"But before that, let's talk about the day I met him. Because wow. Absolute definition of 'meet-cute,' minus the cute, mostly just me being a hazard to society."

You leaned back, letting the memory replay in your head.

It was an ordinary day. Well, as ordinary as your life ever got. You had a brand meeting to rush to, and as usual, you were running late because you couldn't pick an outfit. One minute you were posing for mirror selfies in your oversized hoodie, the next you were panicking because your Uber was two streets away and you couldn't find your left shoe. Classic you.

With only two brain cells firing on pure iced coffee and hope, you dashed out of your apartment, phone in one hand, drink in the other, and zero focus on the sidewalk ahead. You were too busy typing a caption for your next post, something about the universe always testing your time management skills, when the world decided to humble you.

Crash.

You slammed chest-first into someone.

Your iced coffee did an Olympic-level flip, your phone wobbled dangerously in your hand, and you stumbled back two steps, blinking like a deer in ring light.

"Whoa—sorry, I wasn't looking!" you blurted out, brushing imaginary dust off your clothes and finally daring to look up.

And there he was.

The stranger.

Tall, and lean, hoodie, cap pulled low, and hands in his pockets like life was just a long waiting room. His expression? A mix of boredom and 'Why is this human in my personal space?'

At the time, you didn't recognize him. To you, he was just another person having the misfortune of existing on the same chaotic sidewalk as you.

But him? Oh, he definitely looked at you like you were just another hyper, overcaffeinated civilian with no spatial awareness. Probably filed you away as background noise and kept walking.

You, being the ray of unbothered sunshine you were, had just smiled wide and waved, as if you hadn't nearly caused a traffic accident with your face.

"Have a good day, mystery man!" you chirped before bouncing off, completely unaware that you'd just met Sae Itoshi.

The Sae Itoshi.

The soccer prodigy. The media darling. The human iceberg.

And soon-to-be... your boyfriend.

You grinned at the memory, shaking your head as your chat flooded with emojis and question marks

"But—ah, ah, ah—that's just the beginning," you teased, sipping your coffee dramatically. "You thought I’d spill all the tea in one sitting? Pfft. Stay tuned, chaos crew. You know I live for the plot twists."

You winked at your camera, stretching your arms with a happy little hum.

"So, where were we? Right—me, being a disaster, and the world's most unexpected love story. But that's for the next stream."

And with that, you ended the live, leaving your fans screaming in the chat for more.

You sort of love it when your fans suffer.

༺♡༻༺♡༻༺♡༻༺♡༻༺♡༻༺♡༻

You were lounging on your bed, blanket wrapped around your legs like a burrito, phone propped up against a water bottle, livestream running full blast. The chat was already exploding with:

"You left us hanging last time!!"

"Tell us about the first REAL conversation!!"

"DID YOU FALL OR DID YOU FLY?? Spill!!"

You laughed, cheeks hurting from smiling.

"Okay, okay, okay, calm down, gremlins." You raised your hands like you were surrendering to the internet police. "So last time, I told you about the day I bumped into him. Literally. But you thought the universe would let me off with one accidental meeting? Oh, honey. No, no."

You shifted to lie on your stomach, kicking your feet behind you.

"It kept happening. Like, a lot. I thought I was the main character in a bad rom-com."

You tilted your head back, replaying the memories like your own private highlight reel.

The second time was the most random. You'd been at that cute little coffee shop you loved, the one that did those overly fancy heart-shaped lattes you always pretended to hate but secretly adored. You were waiting for your order, nose buried in your phone, when someone brushed past you.

You looked up, and there he was again. Mystery Man. Hoodie, cap, same blank expression. For a second, you thought your brain had glitched. Wasn't this the guy you’d run into like, a week ago?

He didn't recognize you, or at least, if he did, he was very committed to pretending he didn't. You'd watched him leave with his black coffee like some kind of aesthetic Pinterest post, and you'd stood there clutching your caramel frappé like, Huh. Weird.

But it didn't stop there.

A few days later, different place, the same weird coincidence. You'd been out at the park, earbuds in, walking your snack-fueled guilt off when you spotted him again, sitting on a bench, casually scrolling his phone as if he belonged in the background.

At first, you thought, Okay, world, nice try. People exist. Whatever. But by the fourth time, when you ran into him at that tiny sushi place you swore no one else but you and your bestie knew about. You couldn't take it anymore.

You'd straight-up stared at him across the room, your mouth half full of rice, eyebrows raised so high they nearly left your forehead.

And the moment your eyes met? He raised his brow right back.

So you did what any reasonable, mature adult would do.

You marched right up to his table, planted your hands on your hips, tilted your head, and blurted out:

"Are you stalking me or do I just have main character syndrome?"

Silence. Dead silence. The poor waiter passing by almost choked on air.

And for the first time, the guy cracked the tiniest, barely-there smile like you'd just told a joke only he got. He tilted his head, lazily resting his chin on his hand and replied, "Funny. I was about to ask you the same thing."

You had stared at him, blinked, and then dramatically pointed a finger at him like some bootleg detective.

"Hah! Suspicious!"

Your chat was going insane by now, spamming.

"SHE LITERALLY SAID ‘STALKER’ LMAO"

"HE SMILED?!? That's a world record!"

"He was so calm too, I'm wheezing."

You grinned at your phone.

"Yeah, I know right? The man was so calm like his entire personality was set to 'unbothered.' Meanwhile, I'm the one flailing through life like a caffeinated pigeon."

You sipped your drink, shaking your head at the memory.

"At that point, I didn't even know who he was, not really. Just thought he was some suspiciously attractive stranger who clearly had a talent for showing up wherever I existed. Turns out... well, you guys know the plot twist already."

You let out a dreamy little sigh, flopping onto your back.

"But that was just the start. You think that's the cute part? Oh, no, no, no, chaos crew. The universe was just warming up."

You flashed a wink at the camera.

"Next stream, I'll tell you the part where I found out the truth. About who he really was."

You raised your glass like a toast.

"And spoiler alert: my jaw hit the floor. See you next time!"

You ended the live, still smiling like an idiot, heart full of those silly, sweet memories.

༺♡༻༺♡༻༺♡༻༺♡༻༺♡༻༺♡༻

You tug your hoodie over your head, slumping deeper into the cold, unforgiving airport chair while the distant hum of suitcase wheels and boarding calls blend into background noise. One earbud dangles loose, the other blasting your "waiting-around" playlist at a volume slightly unhealthy for your eardrums.

Your phone rests against your knee, the livestream chat already buzzing like a hive of nosy bees.

"WHERE are you going?? Stop gatekeeping."

"Tell us, tell us! Your airport fit is 10/10 tho."

"Are you going somewhere or is this Kidnapping??!! Blink twice if you need help!!"

"WHERE ARE YOU GOING??"

"Airport fit check pls??"

You chuckle under your breath, stretching your legs out until your sneakers nudge your suitcase.

"Yeah, yeah. I know you're all dying to know, but I'm not telling you yet. Let's just say... it's gonna be a long few hours, and the flight's not boarding anytime soon."

You leaned back, stretching your legs out, sneakers tapping against the floor.

"So I figured, since we're all here, stuck together in digital purgatory, why not tell you the rest of the story? The full, uncut, slightly embarrassing tale of how I ended up with Sae Itoshi."

The chat exploded again, and you snorted, holding up a hand.

"Calm down, calm down! You already know about the 'Are you stalking me?' moment." You grinned at the memory. "But that wasn't the last time we crossed paths. Oh no, the universe was playing the long game."

You licked your lips, settling in like you were about to spill ancient gossip.

"Turns out, I was working on this brand deal, you know, usual influencer stuff, smile, wave, pretend I don’t trip over my own feet in front of professional cameras. My manager told me there was this promotional event, super casual, nothing fancy. Show up, look cute, shake hands, snap photos. Easy."

"What she forgot to mention was that it wasn't just some small event. No, no, it was one of those 'shared space' promo collabs. You know, influencers meet athletes, actors, streamers, the whole 'everyone's famous except you' type vibe. I was barely surviving the social anxiety."

You gestured at your own face, chuckling.

"And then, guess who walks in. The same guy I called a stalker—Sae. Freaking. Itoshi."

You paused for dramatic silence, watching the chat spam screaming emojis and caps-lock confessions of second-hand embarrassment.

"And the worst part? I still didn't know his full name. Not until the event started, and the host announced it like it was some royal entrance. 'Football star Itoshi Sae, everyone!' And I just—I swear my soul left my body."

You covered your face, laughing into your hands.

"I was standing there holding a plate of free desserts and staring at him like I'd seen a ghost. He? Oh, he was perfectly fine. Cool, calm, like this was just Tuesday for him."

You shift in your seat, tugging your hood lower, and let the memory pull you under.

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The sky had been that weird, in-between colour, not quite sunny, not quite cloudy, just hanging there like it couldn’t commit to a mood. You were half-jogging, half-power-walking toward your favourite café, craving something sugary and caffeinated to survive your schedule.

Just five minutes of peace, you'd thought, before the next shoot, the next meeting, the next 'smile for the camera.'

The second you pushed the café door open, the little bell above the frame jingled and there he was. The same guy. Cool expression, soccer-star hair, the casual posture of someone who was definitely not expecting you either.

You froze mid-step, recognizing that sharp jawline and those ocean-glass eyes.

No way. No freaking way.

And he glanced up from his drink, raising one eyebrow like he'd just spotted a UFO. No fanboy moment, no awkwardness, just that signature, unimpressed Sae Itoshi stare.

You blinked, too stunned to even remember your coffee craving. "You again?" you blurted, before your brain could filter the words.

He sipped his drink like you weren't real. "Should I be asking you that?"

The universe clearly had jokes, because this wasn't the last time either. After that café, you saw him at a restaurant, same casual lean against the counter, the same unreadable face. Then at the park. Then at a bookstore. Every time you locked eyes, it was the same little pause, like both of you were waiting for the punchline.

The fourth or fifth accidental meetup, you'd finally folded your arms, tilting your head at him, amusement bubbling out before you could stop yourself.

"Alright, are YOU stalking me?" you'd asked, deadpan but half-laughing.

For the first time, his lips twitched into something dangerously close to a smirk.

"No." he'd replied, gaze flicking to you and back. "If I were, you'd never catch me."

And you had stood there, flustered, annoyingly charmed, and wondering if he'd always been this infuriatingly smooth.

But the real twist came later, your manager dropped the bomb about the upcoming event.

"A crossover gig." she'd said, breezy like it wasn't life-ruining. "You're going to meet some athletes and shoot some promo stuff. Super chill."

You'd thought nothing of it, until you showed up at the venue, makeup barely set, nerves barely managed, and there he was. Again.

This time, his name wasn't a mystery. The host's voice boomed through the speakers like an announcement in some royal court.

"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome Itoshi Sae!"

And you? Standing there like an absolute clown, holding some candies you snuck into your bag without your manager looking. Staring at the man you'd mistaken for a random guy for weeks.

I am going to dig a hole right here and move in.

The worst part wasn't even the reveal, it was how unbothered he looked. Smooth, sharp, camera-ready. Until the event wrapped, the photos were done, and he passed you in the hallway, hands in his pockets.

"Still think I’m stalking you?" he murmured, voice low enough that only you could hear.

Your heart had done a perfect backflip right into your stomach.

I'm doomed, you'd thought, completely doomed.

༺♡༻༺♡༻༺♡༻༺♡༻༺♡༻༺♡༻

The airport speakers crackle, calling out some other flight and the chat floods your screen like you'd just dropped the juiciest scandal.

"OMG stop, the candy part got me dead."

"YOU MET HIM SO MANY TIMES AND DIDN'T KNOW??? Girl."

"How are you not married to him already, I'm crying."

You snort, flipping your phone so the camera only catches your eyes, full of fake dramatic regret.

"Yup, that's the story. The universe was practically waving a red flag in my face, and I still didn't get it. But hey, I never said I was smart."

You grin, voice going soft.

"That was the beginning of the mess, though. Things only got weirder, funnier, and... well, better from there."

You glance at the flight board, the 'Delayed' sign still glowing. Plenty of time to keep the story going.

"Should I tell you what happened after that event?" You tilt your head, teasing. "You might wanna grab snacks for this one."

You rested your chin on your palm, the corners of your lips twitching upward at the memory.

"But noooope. Plot twist, we kept running into each other even after that. Like, the universe wasn't done embarrassing me."

༺♡༻༺♡༻༺♡༻༺♡༻༺♡༻༺♡༻

It started with the afterparty.

You weren't even supposed to stay long. Your manager had warned you: "Just smile, mingle, and leave before anyone asks awkward questions." But you'd stayed for the free food. Because of priorities.

You were swiping the last mini cupcake from a passing tray when you noticed him, standing alone by the balcony doors, looking like he'd rather be anywhere else. Same suit, same cool stare, but there was something... so normal about him when he wasn't surrounded by flashing cameras and interviews.

You hadn't meant to walk over. Honestly. Your feet just moved.

"Hey, stalker." you'd greeted, cupcake half-raised to your mouth.

He glanced your way, eyebrows lifting slightly.

"You've got the roles reversed." he murmured, sipping his drink, "I was here first."

You'd grinned around the cupcake. "Pfft. Technicality."

It was small, that first conversation. You talked about nothing, the music, the cheap wine, how awkward those ‘stand here and smile’ photos were. And when you'd finally left the party, you were sure that was the last of it.

But then came the run-ins. Again.

At the bookstore. At the same street-side ramen place. At the stupid laundromat of all places.

Each time, the same exchange.

You: "Okay, this is getting suspicious."

Him: Deadpan. "I live here. You're the one following me."

The universe was clearly shipping you two harder than your entire fanbase ever could.

But the real kicker came a week later when your manager ambushed you mid-photoshoot with a new assignment.

"Big commercial gig. Big brands, crossover style, you'll be working with athletes again."

You didn't even flinch this time. Please let it be someone normal, you'd prayed silently, half-joking.

Spoiler alert: it wasn't.

The day of the shoot, you arrived early, coffee in hand, only to find him sitting on the armrest of the studio sofa, completely at ease, scrolling through his phone like he owned the place.

The second your eyes met, he locked his phone and gave you the faintest nod, almost amused.

"Guess you're stuck with me again." he muttered.

You'd raised your cup like it was a toast. "Could be worse."

And honestly? It could've. The more you worked together that day, the more the weirdness of ‘Itoshi Sae the world-class footballer’ faded away. He was sharp, calm, and maddeningly good at making your heart do cartwheels with a single glance. But also... surprisingly soft-spoken, and just the right amount of sarcastic to match your chaos.

When the cameras weren't rolling, the two of you sat on the studio floor, sharing a pack of sour candies you’d stashed in your bag, the conversation flipping between random nonsense and quiet silences.

At some point, you caught yourself thinking.

Huh. This isn't so bad. Actually... it’s kinda nice.

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You blinked, pulling yourself out of the memory, stretching your arms overhead like the story had physically weighed on you.

"Yeah." you muttered into the mic, "That's when things got... complicated. After that shoot, we started texting. Then hanging out. Not the usual ‘post it on Instagram and make it obvious’ kind of way. Just... quiet."

Your thumb swiped the chat, watching your fans lose their collective minds.

"I KNEW IT. Texting is the gateway to the heart."

"You two were so private, we thought you were single fr."

"So you're telling me this was a soft slow burn all along?!"

You smiled to yourself, your heart swelling just a little as you stared at the screen.

"Yup. No fancy announcements, no PDA, no hints on social media. Just... us. And honestly, I liked it that way."

You leaned back, glancing at the flight board again.

"But I'm getting ahead of myself." you teased. "If you want the full tea—the real ‘how we actually got together’ story—you're gonna need snacks, drinks, maybe a pillow, because that part?"

You tilted your head toward the camera, grinning wide.

"That's a whole saga on its own."

༺♡༻༺♡༻༺♡༻༺♡༻༺♡༻༺♡༻

You leaned your head against the cold airport window, watching planes blink through the foggy glass while your phone rested comfortably against your knee, still live, your chat buzzing like a beehive.

You were mid-sentence, rambling about the "friendly" phase, when your brain hit that memory, the moment things stopped being just friendly.

Your lips twitched into a soft, secret smile.

"Alright, alright, so here's the part everyone wants." you chuckled, stretching your legs out in front of you. "You've all been dying to know how it went from texting, hanging out, to... official, right?"

The chat exploded with caps and emojis.

You rubbed the back of your neck sheepishly.

"Yeah, the thing is... he never actually asked. Like—no ‘will you be my girlfriend?’ no rom-com confession under the rain, no dramatic gestures. It was just... Sae being Sae."

༺♡༻༺♡༻༺♡༻༺♡༻༺♡༻༺♡༻

It had been months.

Months of quiet coffee shop meetups, walking side by side with your hands brushing but never quite touching, late-night texts about the dumbest things, and his deadpan humor paired perfectly with your endless chaos.

And then one ordinary night, the two of you were sitting on his apartment balcony, the Tokyo skyline stretched out before you like an endless string of stars. You were bundled in his oversized hoodie—correction: permanently borrowed hoodie, sipping canned peach soda, while Sae scrolled through something on his phone, utterly relaxed.

The silence wasn't awkward. It never was with him.

Out of nowhere, without even looking up, he spoke:

"You know my schedule, right? Next season's gonna be worse."

You glanced over, raising a brow. "Yeah, your manager already sent me the doomsday calendar."

His lips curved into a faint smirk. "Then you'll have to deal with it."

You blinked. "Deal with what?"

"You. Being stuck with me." He finally tilted his head, looking at you sideways, eyes soft but so unreadable. "You're already here all the time, anyway."

The soda can slipped slightly in your hands.

Wait... is this... is he... asking?

You tilted your head, squinting suspiciously. "Are you... asking me to be your girlfriend without asking me to be your girlfriend?"

His expression didn't even flinch. "If you need me to spell it out, you're dumber than I thought."

You gasped, mock-offended, shoving his shoulder lightly. "Excuse me?!"

But before you could launch into a dramatic fake argument, he reached over, pulling you back gently by the sleeve of his hoodie. His hand stayed there, warm and steady against your arm, anchoring you in place.

"That wasn't a question," he added, voice low but steady.

And just like that, that was it. No grand announcement, no perfect moment. Just simple, real, and entirely him.

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Your fingers absentmindedly fidgeted with the zipper of your jacket, the memory lingering like warmth in your chest.

"Yeah... that’s how it happened," you told your audience, your grin softening. "No dramatic confessions, no fairytale scenes. Just him deciding we were already together without me even realizing it."

The chat blew up in every direction.

"HE JUST CLAIMED YOU LIKE THAT???"

"Sae Itoshi pulled the ‘you're mine, you just don’t know it’ move?? I'm screaming."

"Girl that wasn't even a question. That was a declaration!!"

You laughed, stretching out your legs again, letting the warmth of that night sink in all over again.

"Yeah," you whispered, half to yourself, half to the stream. "That's just... him."

The airport speakers crackled with another delay announcement, and you groaned, flopping back against the chair like your soul had just left your body.

"Guess I've got plenty of time to spill the rest now," you told your phone, your live stream still going strong, chat still wild, even though you were only halfway through your long-winded, slightly embarrassing love story.

You twisted your fingers into your hoodie strings, eyes flicking toward the camera, a little mischievous spark dancing behind your smile.

"So, here's the fun part. When we finally decided to tell people... no one believed us." You let the words hang for dramatic effect.

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You flopped face-first onto your bed, phone dangling from your hand, notifications still blowing up your screen like a mini firework show. Your social feed was chaos—memes, clips, conspiracy theories, fan edits— and all for the same ridiculous reason.

The public didn't believe you and Sae were actually dating.

You groaned into your pillow.

"Why. Why is the world like this?"

Just earlier that week, you finally decided to post that one photo, the soft, cozy one of you wearing his hoodie, feet propped up on his coffee table, his unmistakable blue-and-white game jersey draped on the back of the couch in the background.

The caption was simple:

"Soft launch? Nah. Full send."

And Sae, the man of zero social media energy, actually liked it.

But instead of hearts and celebration, the media? The fans? The blogs?

𝙽𝚎𝚠 𝙼𝚊𝚛𝚔𝚎𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚌?

𝙿𝚞𝚋𝚕𝚒𝚌𝚒𝚝𝚢 𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚗𝚝?

𝙰𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚏𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚌𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚋𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚢 𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚙 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚌𝚕𝚘𝚞𝚝?

They refused to believe it. Your chaotic, sunshine personality, the influencer who couldn't sit still for five seconds, with Japan's most stone-faced, deadpan soccer prince? They weren't buying it.

Truth was, you avoided his matches like the plague.

Sure, you loved seeing him play, but you didn't love the VIP section. You hated the constant camera pans, the forced smiles, and the announcers awkwardly mentioning you every five minutes like you were the main event instead of him.

And even if you could handle that, the crowd wasn’t much better.

"Why do you even go, if all you do is get stared at?" you remembered Sae asking, poking the straw in your drink lazily as the two of you hid in a quiet little ramen shop once.

"Exactly! I don't," you shot back. "You wanna know how awkward it is to sit there, every second feeling like I should wave or pose for the camera? I'm not tryna be the soccer wife template, okay?"

And as usual, Sae just nodded, no offense taken, no guilt tripped, just casually accepting your boundaries without blinking.

And the interviews? His manager probably sent him a dozen pre-approved questions about you every week, and he still answered the same way:

"Private life's got nothing to do with the field."

"Next question."

"No comment."

You loved him for that. But the world? They took it as proof you were all for show.

You rolled onto your back, clutching your phone to your chest dramatically.

"I want everyone to know you're mine, damn it!" you whined out loud, even though Sae wasn't even in the room.

Your phone buzzed, and speak of the devil, his name flashed across your screen.

A text, short as always.

Sae: 𝐘𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐡𝐮𝐧𝐠 𝐮𝐩 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭?

You typed back furiously, thumbs moving like you were fighting for your life.

You: 𝐘𝐄𝐒. 𝐈 𝐚𝐦! 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬 𝐈𝐦 𝐟𝐚𝐤𝐞-𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮! 𝐃𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐚𝐩𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐬? 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐬!!

A few seconds passed.

Another buzz.

Sae: 𝐋𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭. 𝐈 𝐝𝐨𝐧𝐭 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞.

You let out the most dramatic gasp, holding your chest like you’d been mortally wounded.

He doesn't care. He's so... him.

But even in the middle of your whiny pout, your phone vibrated once more, and his last message made your stomach flip

Sae: 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐞𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐡 𝐨𝐟 𝐮𝐬.

Your lips twitched into a defeated smile.

Yeah. That's true.

Bonus: Later that week, you caught him scrolling past some article about your "fake" relationship. His only reaction?

"Tch. They're dumb."

And then he slid his phone back into his pocket, grabbed your hand, and squeezed it liked the whole world could fall away and he'd still be fine, as long as you were beside him.

It wasn't just the fans.

It wasn't just the media.

It was everyone.

Even your own best friend.

You sat cross-legged on your couch, phone balanced on your knee, holding back a groan while your bestie's voice played through the speaker like the most supportive but suspicious customer service rep on Earth.

"So… Sae Itoshi, huh?" they hummed, voice full of that polite, careful tone people use when they think you’re about to tell them you joined a pyramid scheme. "You're really serious about this?"

You flopped onto your back dramatically, one arm tossed over your face.

"Yes, I'm serious! Why does nobody ever believe me?!"

Your best friend laughed, soft but teasing.

"It's just... you only post about him once or twice a week then it's just you with your routine. You're always hanging out with me or working. And he doesn't mention you in interviews either, so…"

You sat up and grabbed a throw pillow, clutching it like a lifeline.

"Because we like being private! You know how insane people are about celeb couples. We don't need the world crawling up our noses."

Your best friend didn't sound mean about it, or even doubtful in a harsh way, just unconvinced in that "I love you, but I’m side-eyeing this" way.

"Well, if it's real, I'm happy for you. But I'll believe it when I see him at a family dinner or something."

You froze.

Family dinner. Right. That wasn't helping your case either.

༺♡༻༺♡༻༺♡༻༺♡༻༺♡༻༺♡༻

Your family was no better.

Every group call, every visit, every holiday, someone always asked the same thing:

"Are you still seeing that soccer guy?"

"Yes, I am!"

And always, the same suspicious, supportive-but-totally-judging smile.

"Mhm. Must be hard, dating a busy man like that. You two probably don't see each other much, huh?"

You wanted to yeet your phone across the room every time.

It wasn't their fault.

They weren’t being cruel, or bitter, in fact, they were probably trying to avoid sounding jealous.

But they hadn't seen Sae show up at birthdays, or in your Insta stories, or on the group vacations.

And every time you'd try to explain the situation, the words sounded faker and faker even to your own ears.

"He's busy with training."

"He doesn't like social media."

"We like keeping things private."

"It's not that serious to everyone else, but it is to us."

You knew it was true. You knew Sae wasn't some trophy boyfriend for display. But you also knew how invisible your relationship looked to the outside world.

The meet-and-greet was in full swing. Flashing lights, smiles so wide your cheeks hurt, laughter so loud it made your ears ring — you were in your natural habitat, bouncing from fan to fan like a hyper, overcaffeinated puppy.

You signed merch, posed for selfies, gave out warm hugs, and listened to all the sweet things your fans had to say.

"You're literally the best person ever."

"You make my day so much brighter."

"You're my comfort streamer, always."

And then, the classic.

"So… are you really dating Sae Itoshi?"

You smiled, the same smile you'd mastered over the past few months. The yes-it's-true-but-nobody-believes-me-anyway smile.

"Yup! Totally. 100%."

Cue the polite giggles.

They didn't mean it in a mean way. In fact, you loved how playful your fans were about it. But deep down, it still poked at you like an itch you couldn't scratch.

They were so sure it was fake.

Why wouldn't they be? You and Sae were barely ever seen together unless a manager forced it. You hated attending his matches. He hated social media. It all lined up too perfectly, like the plot of every fake celebrity romance scandal.

You'd whined about it to him just last night. Practically buried your face in his chest, grumbling like a five-year-old.

"Why won't anyone believe me? I want the whole world to know you're mine!"

And like always, he'd just ruffled your hair, kissed your forehead, and said.

"Let them think what they want. I know what’s real."

But apparently, Sae Itoshi had a limit, too.

Because while you were grinning at the next fan in line, mid-conversation, halfway through signing your name on a hoodie, the room shifted.

There were gasps, murmurs, and the kind of hush that only happens when someone so unexpected, so untouchable, walks into the room.

You lifted your head and froze.

Standing casually near the back, hands in his pockets like this was the most normal thing in the world, was Sae Itoshi himself.

Your jaw dropped.

Before you could even string a single thought together, he was walking toward you, eyes locked on yours like there was no one else in the world. And without stopping, without saying a word, without hesitation.

He leaned in and kissed you.

Soft but confident. No over-the-top drama, no staged posing. Just real. Simple. Certain.

When he pulled back, the silence was deafening. For once in your chaotic, noisy life, you were speechless.

Your fans were quiet, wide-eyed, some blinking like they’d just been hit by the plot twist of the century. But not in a bad way. No hate. Just pure, I-can't-believe-I-just-witnessed-that energy.

You blinked up at him, your voice breathless but happy, giddy from the surprise.

"What are you doing here??"

Sae tilted his head slightly, his signature deadpan expression softening at the corners.

"You kept whining about nobody believing you."

A pause.

"I can't take it anymore. So here I am, making sure they're convinced we're together until the end."

You wanted to melt into the floor.

The fans, finally breaking out of their stunned silence, burst into soft claps and cheers. No screaming chaos, no wild frenzy, just a wave of warm, supportive acceptance like, "Well, damn. Guess it was real all along."

And just like that...

All your whining finally paid off.

You couldn't stop smiling even as the meet-and-greet wrapped up, Sae waiting nearby like the world’s most casually overprotective boyfriend, hands tucked in his pockets, eyes glancing toward you every few minutes.

And this time, when you scrolled through your notifications later that night, the headlines weren't speculating with assumptions anymore.

Confirmed: Itoshi Sae And Our Influencer Queen Are Officially Together. For Real.

You stretch your arms above your head, rolling your neck side to side as the loudspeaker overhead calls out another delayed flight. Your phone, propped up against your coffee cup on the little table, is still going strong, the live stream timer blinking away.

The screen is flooded with hearts, emojis, and comment after comment, your fans practically vibrating through the chat.

You let out a small yawn, your voice light and teasing.

"—And that, my friends, is the full story. Yup. That’s how your favourite chaotic influencer and Mr Ice-Block Sae Itoshi became a thing." You grin at the camera, lifting your drink for a little toast. "No fake dating, no PR stunt, just real-deal feelings and a very stubborn soccer boy who took his sweet time making everyone believe me."

The comments start rolling in faster now that you finally stopped talking, and you lean closer, eyes flicking across the screen.

"OKAY OKAY I BELIEVE YOU NOW MY QUEEN I’M SORRY."

"THE WAY I DIDN'T BELIEVE YOU FOR MONTHS I FEEL SO DUMB."

"I KNEW IT! I FREAKING KNEW IT! You two are so real I'm crying."

"Plot twist: Sae is the softest boyfriend behind the scenes."

"Her telling the whole story at an airport like a rom-com main character."

You chuckle under your breath, heart swelling a little at the waves of support finally pouring in. The very people who doubted you for so long were now spamming apologies, excitement, and even edits waiting to be made the second this livestream ended.

You leaned back in the chair, looking out at the huge glass windows where planes rolled slowly across the runway. Your lips curl into a smile, fingers tapping against your cup.

"See?" you mutter under your breath, knowing full well Sae isn't here to hear it. "Told you they'd believe me eventually."

The screen blinks again with another message from a fan.

"Now tell us, where are you flying off to, Queen?"

You smirk playfully at the camera, pressing a finger to your lips.

"Ah, ah, ah—that's for me and a certain someone to know. Spoilers, you know?"

And just like that, the screen explodes with more theories, more hearts, and more love.

You close your eyes for a moment, listening to the soft airport hum, your mind wandering to the boy who'd flipped your world upside down without even trying, the boy who wasn't so icy, once the cameras stopped rolling.

You're still grinning at the endless flood of comments lighting up your phone screen, fans spamming:

"WHERE YOU GOING?"

"IS SAE PICKING YOU UP??"

"TELL USSSSS."

When suddenly—A voice from behind, smooth and slightly amused, cuts through the airport noise.

"So that's why you didn't greet me."

Your breath catches, and your whole body stiffens for half a second before you whip your head around. There he stands, casual as ever in a hoodie and cap, hands in his pockets, Itoshi Sae.

You blink like your brain short-circuited.

Oh.

He's here.

The chat explodes the moment the camera catches the hint of him standing behind you, leaning over slightly to glance at the screen. The comments spiral into full-blown chaos:

"IS THAT SAE?????"

"WHAT THE ACTUAL—"

"NO WAY NO WAY NO WAY."

"SAE APPEARED IN THE FLESH. CONFIRMED."

"I CAN'T BREATHE."

You laugh, cheeks heating up as you tilt the phone slightly toward him, watching as Sae raises a brow at the scrolling flood of reactions. He gives the camera the most casual glance, like he hadn't just walked into your live stream unannounced, and then looks back at you.

"You done?" he asks.

Because, of course, he knows you've been here talking about him for who-knows-how-long.

You roll your eyes playfully, bringing your hand up to brush a strand of hair away from your face. "Almost," you reply with a soft grin, turning your attention back to your fans, who are practically foaming at the mouth at this point.

You lift your left hand, casually wiggling your ring finger right in front of the camera, the glint of a sleek, simple ring catching the light. Your grin widens when you say, sweet as ever:

"Oh, right. Almost forgot to mention—we're engaged."

And with that, you reach over and hit the "End Stream" button, the last thing your fans see being your smug little wink and the chat blowing up so fast the app almost lags.

Phone off, you glance back at Sae, who—for once—lets out the softest huff of a laugh.

"You just had to drop that like a bomb, huh?" he mutters.

You sling your bag over your shoulder, nudging him lightly. "You didn't want me whining anymore, remember? Plus, I love it when I leave my fans with cliffhangers."

And without another word, he reaches for your hand, lacing his fingers with yours, as the two of you stroll off toward the gate, away from the flashing cameras, the exploding comments, and the doubters.

Just the two of you.

Till the end.

[yandere-daydreams]

tw - sex doll au, implied dub/con, unhealthy relationships, possessive behavior, and generally depraved behavior.

You're starting to wonder if you should've gotten a different pair.

You knew what you were getting into when you decided that, of all the androids in Teyvat's stock, you were going to be one of the few brave souls that dared to put two members of the Akademiya Collection that weren't Tighnari and Cyno under the same roof. The salesperson had cringed as you made your selection, your more tech-savvy friends pursed their lips and asked if that was really for the best, and you couldn't mention your specific preferences on any public message board without being berated off the platform entirely. You didn't care, thought. The heart wants what it wants, and apparently, your heart wanted two burnt-out post-grads to rail you into next week.

That's what you told yourself until you got Alhaitham and Kaveh home, at least.

The bickering, you were prepared for. You weren't surprised by the constant passive-aggression, the subtle pokes at Alhaitham's arrogance and Kaveh's bleeding heart, and you managed to stomach it the first time your dreams of a multi-major threesome were dashed because Kaveh mentioned some ancient philosophical principle and Alhaitham couldn't resist the opportunity to correct his wording and you were left bouncing yourself on Alhaitham's cock while he dispassionately flipped through a textbook you haven't opened since you were an under-grad. Minor hiccups, nothing you couldn't forget about when Kaveh buried his face between your thighs or Alhaitham split you open on his fingers while reading your latest research paper aloud, denying you an orgasm for every grammatical error. That part, you wouldn't trade for the world.

The jealousy, though - you could live without that. You've heard that there's supposed to be fail-safes for this kind of thing, measures the developers take to make sure any companion droids can co-exist without tearing each other apart, but their mutual distaste seems strong enough to overwhelm whatever barriers their creators put in place. You've lost count of the number of times there's been a false-alarm in some other part of your apartment while you're on your knees at Alhaitham's feet, how many times Alhaitham's flawless hardware has suddenly 'malfunctioned' while Kaveh has your ankles propped on his shoulders.

Not getting laid, you can deal with, but it's a little hard to be so forgiving when Kaveh spends the better half a day pouting because you took Alhaitham to work and left him at home, when Alhaitham deletes your registered commands from his memory bank because you had the nerve to take Kaveh to a farmer's market that that he'd rather die than step foot in. You've tried to be fair, to divide your time evenly, but they're not happy with that, either. Neither of them would ever say it out loud, but it's clear enough that they both want to be the center of your attention. It'd be cute, if they weren't so spiteful.

The only thing worse than their jealousy is when they put aside their spitefulness, their petty arguments, and decide to agree on the only thing they can ever agree on: that their beloved 'master' should be the one to make up for all those hours of neglect. It's a little like your fantasies, but not quite; your chest pressed against Alhaitham's Kaveh's chin resting on your shoulder, the former inside of you while the latter whispers sweet-nothings against the curve of your throat. It's more violent than anything you ever would've expected from two men so scholarly, more aggressive - teeth buried in your skin, bruises in the shape of their palm painted across your thighs, fingers forcing their way past your lips whenever you so much as consider using your safe-word. You're left strung-out for hours after they're done with you, and Kaveh's free to press himself against your side while Alhaitham tries to pass himself off as the caretaker he so clearly isn't. It's the only time they don't waste their breath on bickering. It's the only time they ever get along.

It's the only time you don't have the strength to focus on anything but your two precious, precious androids.

[jazeswhbhaven]

💜Only 4 Me, Levi: Mass Birthday Post💜

💜Mini Playlist💜

Obsession- Innerpartysystem Change- Deftones People Error- the GazettE Filth in the Beauty- the GazettE I'm That Girl- Beyonce All Mine- Kali Uchis

💜Cake Flavor Headcanon💜

White Chocolate Raspberry bundt cake, drizzled with sweet cream and Raspberry compote

💜How the Nobles Celebrate Their King's Birthday💜

Foras: He mostly tries to convince Glas and Barbatos to leave Leviathan alone so he can serve him by himself all day. After being turned down for the third time with the span of five minutes, he's opted to hang himself for him instead.

Barbatos: He wanted to present a perfect rosebush he worked on growing in the shape of Leviathan. But it was too distracting so Levi destroyed it and Barb was to hang for thinking he could replicate Levi's beauty with plants.

Glasyalabolas: He intentionally seeks out MC, in attempts to spend alot of time with them in order to agitate his Majesty. He's even taken off the top half of his uniform to show off his form and let MC put their hand through his chest...which didn't last long because Leviathan immediately dragged him back to the palace by his rope to hang.

Orias: Oh the usual, he tried to get his soul...steal his life force, pulled all the pranks he could because he assumed he'd be distracted by his birthday and MC. He even put poison in a cupcake and tricked MC into delivering it. Ofc Levi suspected it and every plan failed. Up he goes!

Overall: None of these nobles work together, too jealous of one another and wanting to one up on who's praising Levi the most. Sadly, it's even certain that Levi would hate it more if his nobles planned something together for him anyway. How dare they all work together to waste time? Well it is for him. But still, can't have idle hands when there's things in Hades to take care of.

💜How Levi Celebrates with MC💜

MC does what their told and stays exactly where they were standing with their phone in hand. Suddenly, there's a presence behind their back...

MC: Oh! Levi, you showed up...

Leviathan: Why wouldn't I? I told you I was coming...

MC: Right. Um, So?

Leviathan: First, look at my face. What do you see?

MC: Nothing in particular...just your face?

Leviathan: No. Tell me what you see.

MC: Just a pretty face looking at me? Is that what you wanted to hear?

Leviathan: *scoffs* Next, focus on my horns.

MC: Levi...

Leviathan: Is there a problem? Or are you just too stupid to pay attention?

MC: No! Hey. I get it you're better than the others...you don't have to show....

Leviathan grabs their arm and starts dragging them back to his room

Leviathan: It seems you need to focus in a more private setting. Being in the middle of this hallway has you thinking about other men again.

MC: ????? But I-

Leviathan: I swear if I could tie you up and throw you in my coffin for the rest of your life I would. At least there you would have nothing to think about.

MC: *thinks to themselves* Guess this is best I'll get for celebrating his birthday.

Leviathan: See? You're doing it right now aren't you? Unbelievable. Right in front of me...*grumbles and drags them faster*

💜Levi and Beel: The Worst Besties Ever💜

Beelzebub once tried to throw Leviathan a surprise birthday party in Aybssos by luring him there with false pretenses that it was important. The amount of devils yelling "surprise" pissed of Leviathan so much he chased around Beel for three days trying to kill him for doing this. After the three days, he went back home to find a pile of gifts waiting for him that magically appeared from Beel. He told Foras to burn every single one, but changed his mind and took them anyway. He still has the gifts in his room in a glass case that he covers with a blanket so others can't see it. He uncovers it once in a while to dust it and look over everything.

nsfw incoming....

💜He doesn't normally celebration his birthday so he skips the formalities

💜A present? Why did you waste so much time picking something when he hasn't told you what he liked? Oh wait...he does like it...

💜The gift is easily forgotten because he suspected you asked someone else about what he likes, which means you're speaking to other devils again

💜As your clothes strip, he asks who was it that told you what he liked? Was it that annoying fly? That beast from Tartaros? The walking disaster that defends Gehenna?

💜It doesn't matter who you were asking, you're here now sprawled on his bed with your legs folded close to your chest so he can thrust so deep you won't remember anything but his cock in your hole

💜He leans in for you so you have a good reach for his neck, make sure you choke him with vigor or he'll stop thrusting in that good spot that's making your eyes roll

💜Repeat his name over and over during, say it perfectly, same tempo, don't waver...he wants to know all you're thinking about is him.

💜How many hours have passed? Does it matter to you that much? Of course not. His mission has succeeded and you're thinking about nothing except of how your brain is mush, every orifice on your body has been filled with cum, and marks have been left in obvious places for others to see.

💜Your his. his. h i s. You belong to Leviathan. No matter if it's his birthday or any other day.

💜Happy Birthday to the Most Envious and Petty King, Leviathan 11/01💜

[aphelionwrotes11]

Hello people! :)

PT 1

Anakin!spiderman x reader

CW: descriptions of violence, light stalking, slow burn, enemies to lovers, pining, fluff, reader bullies anakin (hes into it), nerd anakin, academic rivals, banter, lemme know if I’m missing anything.

The reason he’s called Anakin parker instead of Skywalker will be revealed later >:D

As per usual ignore any and all spelling and grammar errors. Sorryyyy

WC: 4.7k

Another day in the quiet campus library hitting the books. Not exactly how you had planned on spending your early twenties. In the Ivy League school of your choice, New York City, studying fat old books so that you can excel in yet another midterm, and for what? Anakin Parker. That’s what. Your academic rival and determined thorn in your side.

You and Mary wandered through the seemingly endless shelves of books, fifteen minutes had passed and you still hadn’t managed to find the quantum theory textbook you needed to study. The two of you had gone through the STEM section twice, her fingers grazing the shelf as you studied the titles.

”Any luck?” Mary asks, grimacing as she pulls back her fingers to find them coated in dust. “Ugh, where could this dumb book be, dude? Like.. literally no one comes back here.” She whispers, glaring at the tall shelves.

You sigh, “no clue. It should be somewhere around here.” Your eyes narrow at the shelf in front of you, the library is ordered alphabetically, the book in theory should be right here.

“Guess someone got to it before you.. wonder who that could be.” Mary sighed, rolling her eyes.

You know who she’s referring to. You moved here two years ago and there has only been one guy that’s given you any trouble.

“No. He wouldn’t have. There’s no way he could know there’s gonna be a quantum theory section on professor Harvey’s test.” You whisper to yourself. “The TA told me himself that no one else knows.” You emphasize, Carl had swore up and down that not another soul knew what he had told you.

“Yeaaah, not gonna lie though, who knows how many people he actually told. It’s not like nobody else has a spare twenty to slip him for some test tips, girl.” Mary replied casually. “And if you’re willing to go that far then you know damn well he would be too, he’s like the only one on your level.”

”How would he even know to bribe the TA, Mary? Carl is literally never around for lectures, nobody in Harvey’s class even knows hes got a TA.” You reply, exasperated. Now that you think about it, he was quite quick to snatch that twenty from your fingers. It was too easy to get anything out of him to actually trust his promises of exclusivity.

Mary shrugs, “I dunno, he’s got his ways.” She sighs, “I swear he’s got sixth sense or something.”

”Yeah a sixth sense for how to be an absolute nuisance.” You grumble.

Mary chuckles quietly, turning the corner before coming to a halt. “Well, you’ve got that right.” She says with a smirk, pointing to something.

You furrow your brows, coming up behind her and following her finger to a stack of books, your book included, resting beside none other than Anakin Parker.

“Fuck.” You mumble, rubbing your hand down your face.

“Want me to talk to him?” She smiles.

”no, no, Ive got it.”

”Alright.” She shrugs, “I’ll be over here, lemme know if you need me to put him in his place.” She says with an evil grin.

“Okay psycho.” You giggle as she wanders toward the history section.

The sigh you release is heavy as you walk towards an inevitable headache.

You half expect to surprise him, given how engrossed he seems to be in the material he’s studying, but as if sensing you near he straightens and turns to you with wide eyes.

”Hey.” He says with a cool smile, a halfhearted attempt at nonchalantness.

You frown, “Hi.” Glancing over at his stack of books. “Do you need the whole library or do you think I could borrow one of those?” You say, pointing to his stack.

He looks back, “depends on which one it is.” He smirks boyishly, his lips curling over his teeth. You wonder for a moment if he’s had them whitened.

You give him a sour look. “The quantum theory textbook.”

He raises his brow and pulls the book from the middle, turning it over, “huh, really? Didn’t know you had an interest in quantum theory.” He says with clear faux surprise.

“Yeah, suddenly decided I just can’t live without it. So can you hand it over? I only need it for the hour.” You reply flatly.

He sucks his teeth, “eh.. I dunno. Thanks to you I actually just remembered that I was supposed to be reading this, so I don’t think I can give it up. Maybe some other time.” He grins. And again, your vision zones in on his mouth. His stupid mouth.

You shoot him a glare and he swallows thickly, glancing away as if he’s nervous.

“Listen, I don’t know how, but I know you KNOW there’s going to be a quantum theory part in Harveys test. And I also know that your nerdy ass has probably read that book from cover to cover. So please, do me this one favor.” You grit. Only two hours until Harvey’s exam, you picked the worst time to cram.

He stares at the book in his hands, not daring to look at you. “Well.. this is actually the only one I haven’t read yet.” He gives you a crooked smile.

Your eyes narrow in suspicion. “Really?”

He nods. “Yes, really.” He flattens his lips

you suck in a breath. He’s obviously lying, but you have no idea why. “Well what can we do then? Cuz I need to study and I really don’t have the time for this. Can we just take turns every thirty minutes or something?”

he raises his brows, “That doesn’t sound like it would be very productive.” He glances at you and the chair beside him. “Um… How about we just study together?”

You drop your shoulders, clearly disappointed at his proposition.

he frowns, nearly a pout, “not really any better options at the moment.”

You want to say he could just give you the book and miss a few points for once in his life, if at all, god only knows how much home research hes probably already doing about quantum theory and whatever else.

you sigh, he flinches as you toss your bag on the ground beside him and settle into the open chair.

“Guess not.” You reply.

He shuffles in his seat as if making space for you even though there’s enough distance to keep you comfortable. You glance at him expectantly, his hands still clutching the book to his chest.

You jut your head at the table, “Well? Can we get started?” You sound more impatient than you intended.

“Uh- yeah- well, do you wanna get setup first?” He asks, his brows furrowed and face tight, like hes afraid you’ll blow up at him or something.

You click your tongue, your cheeks twinging pink. “Right, yeah.” You say reaching for your bag. He waits patiently for you to lay out your materials before opening the book to a specific chapter.

“Is this what we’re meant to be studying?” You ask.

“Uh- yeah I think so.” He seems fidgety, you give him a look but don’t bother to ask why.

Time goes by fairly quick after that, the two of you sit side by side writing fervently. He clearly finishes his notes before you but always waits to turn the page. You don’t comment, but you do notice it. A quiet act of helpfulness. He seems to make it a point to press the end of his pencil to certain paragraphs that he deems important. If you weren’t so helpless when it came to this type of science you would ignore his cues to help you, but you decide to put your pride away just this once. And besides, if he notices you taking extra care in writing the notes on what hes pointing out he doesn’t say anything about it. He doesn’t even make a face, aside from the occasional smile when you lean in to read his notes.

Your phone pings, and that seems to pull the both of you out of whatever state you were in. He looks at you with raised brows and quickly glances down at his watch.

“Shit- uh, its 2:30, we gotta go!” He whispers, jumping up and all but shoving his stuff into his bag with surprising swiftness.

You jump up too, and rather gracelessly begin shoving your things into your bag. He helps a bit, gathers pencils and strewn about papers before passing them to you.

He throws a sideways glance at his stack of books before looking back at his watch.

“No time..” he looks to you, “we’ll have to come back for them.”

”right, okay, lets go!” You reply in a frenzy, herding him towards the door. Professor Harvey’s classroom is across campus. On a normal day it would take you twenty minutes to get there from the library.

Anakin walks ahead of you with haste, glancing back occasionally to see that you're still behind him. By the time the two of you are halfway there, you’re already out of breath and the distance between you and him is growing.

“Damnit, slow down!” You cry, you don’t even know why. It’s not like the two of you have to get there together. Hell, he could already be there by now if he left you behind.

He slows and turns to you, he doesn’t even look tired. “Come on, we’re almost there!”

You groan but his steps don’t falter, you lightly jog up to him, grabbing onto his elbow.

“How are you so fast?” You ask.

He doesn’t answer, but he looks down at where your hand is on him, and his expression is unreadable. You pull away as if you’d been scorched.

“Oh- sorry.” You mumble, struggling to speak and keep up with him.

“No- it’s-“ he cuts himself off, staring at your arm. “Here.”

He reaches for you and loops your arm with his before picking up the pace, you hadn’t even noticed that you two slowed down before. Now, he was practically dragging you.

“What the hell, Anakin!” You panted.

He’s throws you an empathetic smile, giving your arm a small tug. “You got this, we’ll make it.” He looks at his watch and sucks in a breath. “Gotta pick up the pace a bit.”

“Fuck- okay.” You groan.

What a sight it is, the two of you arm in arm jogging across campus. Well, you’re running, hes jogging. You’re too breathless to feel humiliated, you probably look a mess. Hair strewn about, cheeks red, panic etched over your features. By the time you’ve reached the building and Anakin whispers the time being 2:37, you’re hit with enough adrenaline to propel yourself up the two flights of stairs at his side.

You both reach the door with a minute to spare, you’re sucking in air like its drowning you and he looks as fresh as ever.

“Ugh- god.” You whimper, putting a hand to your chest to calm your racing heart, you notice him staring at you in awe.

“What?” You ask breathlessly. He cheeks redden, like hes surprised he got caught.

“Uh- nothing, you alright?” He asks with a worried smile.

“Just peachy.” You reply sarcastically, attempting to fix yourself. You straighten your shirt and move your hair.

“Ready?” You ask him, he’s got a faraway look.

“Uh, yeah.” He pauses, reaching up and hesitating when you furrow your brows at him.

“Sorry- uh- sorry.” He says quietly, reaching up and fixing a piece of your hair.

“Thanks.” You say softly as he nods and pulls open the door for you.

The exam goes relatively well. You notice anakin, more than once, turning to look at you from his spot in the first three rows. You simply catch the movement of his head in your peripherals the first two times, too focused on your exam to bother looking up. But by the third time you look up and raise your brows, he whips around as soon as you catch his gaze.

He finishes his exam first, your eyes follow him as he practically scurries out into the hall. You follow shortly after, giving Harvey a small nod on your way out.

You aren’t sure why you’re so surprised to find him waiting outside, leaning against the wall opposite to the door. He perks up as you walk towards him. He opens his mouth to speak-

”Wow, what am I chopped liver?” A sarcastic voice rings from the right.

The both of you jump, looking to find Mary with her brow raised and arms crossed.

You smile, “I didn’t know you were waiting-“ your smile falters, “Oh my god. I totally forgot you in the library, I’m so sorry.” You cross the distance to her side, giving her a pout as she glares at you. Her expression fades into a grin, “Well, how are you gonna make it up to me?” She asks sweetly.

“Actually, It was my fault. We got caught up in studying and had to get to class-“ Anakin started.

Mary groaned exaggeratedly, rolling her eyes for good measure.

“Fine, how are you gonna make it up to me then?” She snaps.

Anakin pauses, looking between you and her. “Well.. I could take you both out for lunch.” He suggests.

“What, you haven’t had enough time with her yet? Gotta take her out for lunch and make more moves on her?” Mary quizzes, you withhold a laugh.

Anakin flushes red, his brows furrow. “That- I wasn’t-“ he clears his throat, “you said you wanted paid back- and- I haven’t made any..” he pauses, looking away, “moves on her. We were only studying.” He mumbles.

“Oh yeah? How about when you two were skipping arm in arm to class? Surprised you didn’t cream your pants when she grabbed you.” Mary laughs, and you stare at her mortified.

“WHAT!” You cry.

Anakin's mouth gapes open, “I- what-“ he sputters.

Mary doubles over, laughing so hard it looks like it hurts. You can’t help but to laugh along with her, your stomach hurting from the force of your giggle fit. Anakin just stares at the both of you with mild horror.

”Cream my pants?” He whispers to himself. That makes it worse, tears stream down your cheeks, Mary slaps your shoulder as she cackles, the both of you losing balance.

“Oh my god-“ you try to say between cackles.

“Mary- you-“ You wheeze, “Bitch.”

She sucks in a breath and stands straight. “Yeah I’m hungry now, you can get us lunch.” She looks at her phone. “More like early dinner, but whatever.”

You feel a bit bad for Anakin after you’ve recovered from your giggle fit. At this point you’re quite used to their antics. Mary and Anakin went to high school together, their rivalry has always been in good fun and has apparently existed long before you came into the picture. As the three of you walk towards the decided sandwich shop on campus, Mary asks how the exam went and chatters about what she was up to when you forgot she existed. You glance back at Anakin to find he’s already looking at you, you give him a small smile and he gives you one back, his cheeks still twinged red from earlier humiliation.

True to his word, Anakin buys you both early dinner sandwiches, as well as one for himself. You all settle in the corner of the shop by the window.

“Hey, pretty sure you’ve paid me back, you can go now.” Mary says with a shooing motion.

”Yeah, you wish. I’m staying right here.” His usual well meaning sarcasm has finally returned. Your shoulders relax, you hadn’t even noticed they were tense.

“Kay, whatever.” Mary replies. “Hey, I don’t blame you, you wanna hang with the champ. Bet you’re hoping her smarts will rub off on you.” Mary adds, bumping your shoulder with hers. You shake your head and giggle.

”Yeah, I guess so. Doesn’t seem like her smarts have rubbed off on you any.” He quips.

“Hey! I’ll have you know I’m doing very well in my classes.”

“Oh yeah?” He raises a brow.

“Okay maybe I’m not top of the fuckin score board like the both of you, but I make do.” She growls.

“The both of us can’t be top of the scoreboard.” You comment.

“Well we all know you’re number one, beautiful.” Mary says to you with a saccharine grin.

Anakin scoffs, “we’ll see once the exam scores are posted.” He smirks at you.

And there it is, in just one afternoon you had completely forgotten your own rivalry with him, how could you forget just how much he pisses you off. When you graduated high school, you hadn’t expected to do so well in university. Your own passion shocks you at times. And at the very bottom of your list of things you expected to happen, was to have an academic rival. When you first met Anakin, he was a lot more cocky. You had chalked up his recent kindness towards you as having earned his respect, you’ve held your own in this little competition of skill. But now the stakes have risen, because there’s always a prize, which has become more than just keeping your ego intact.

You frown and shoot him a glare, he shuffles in his seat.

“Right. Guess we will.” You grit.

Mary, noticing the sudden tension, quickly changes the subject.

“Soo. Anakin.. got your eyes on new internships?” She asks with raised brows. You already know why she’s asking, the prize. What you and Anakin are both after. She’s hoping he’s trying for something new.

he sighs, he has the courtesy to look sorry. “No. Still trying for the Oscorp position.”

She sucks in a breath and looks to you quickly. Her nervousness makes you bristle.

“Well. May the smartest one win.” You reply tightly, and he nods.

This competition, whats it all for? The prize? An internship at oscorp working in one of the best labs money could buy. There’s only one opening and its reserved for the highest scorer in this round of exams. The realization that you had spent the day with the one person you’re competing against for something that will change your life makes you shift in your seat. Thats what its always been about. But now that the deadline is so close, it feels a lot more real.

The three of you finish your sandwiches in silence.

“Well, we better head out, don’t wanna miss the bus.” Mary finally says after a few long minutes of tense silence.

Anakin finally meets your gaze, he looks like a kicked puppy. “I can walk you to the bus stop-“ your glare cuts him short.

“No thanks. See you later, Anakin.” You say as you rise from your seat.

Mary and you part ways once she gets off at her stop. You’ve still got another three stops till you’ll be on your block. Plenty of time to overthink your bitterness.

For the life of you, you really can’t decipher why the internship is such a soft spot. Do you really doubt yourself that much? After all this time of the both of you head to head, suddenly you fear you don’t have a winning shot. You fidget with your fingers and glance out the city bus window. Today was a really bad day for your exam nerves to kick in. The first day of midterms, you’ve still got five more to take. All the grades will be posted on the following Monday. Your stomach feels as if its twisting in on itself. Why were you so relaxed today? It’s like you just forgot what the stakes were. Did you pay extra attention to the questions? Did you recheck your answers? Did you really get it all? Your brain whirs as you try to think of any possible slip up you could’ve made.

You’re still reeling from the fact that you were so distracted today as you get off the bus and begin your trek to your apartment. You’re relatively certain you did well on the exam, but you still can’t believe how easy time seems to slip away when you’re around Anakin. Did he do that on purpose? Usually he doesn’t hesitate to remind you of the stakes. So why was he so helpful? God, all it does is piss you off.

You’re too caught up in your thinking to catch the sound of footsteps behind you. Your brows furrow as you suddenly come to. It’s dark, you're still a good five minute walk from your apartment building, the street is empty, and whoever is behind you has been steadily getting closer and closer. You curse your distractible mind.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. You try to calm yourself, to hide your bunching shoulders, slow your breath and listen. The steps behind you grow closer, you pick up the pace just a smidge and they do too, that’s what sends you into a frenzy.

You break into a sprint, the feet behind you do as well. You race down the dark street, the corner light in front of you seems miles away. There’s a small alleyway coming up, you contemplate taking your chances on it.

When you turn your head you find your assailant to be hot on your tail, that makes up your mind. You whip to the left into the narrow alleyway and begin shouting, kicking down trash cans behind you. When you turn the corner, you find a dead end.

You turn, your assailant stands at the end after he turns the corner, a wicked grin on his face.

“Help me!” You scream. How cliche is this? The damsel backs herself into a corner. I mean seriously, running into an alleyway? Classic movie drama. Except this isn’t a movie, this is real life. And you are now alone in an alleyway with a scary dude who could easily overpower you.

he starts pacing towards you, mumbling incoherencies under his breath. You brace yourself, try to remember any self defense you’ve ever happened across. Go for the throat, the eyes, the nuts. Scratch him, get his DNA under your fingernails. God help you, fight like a madwoman. Thats what you remind yourself as you let out a final scream once he gets close.

you stupidly squeeze your eyes closed as he lifts his arm, a natural reaction you suppose, but the impact never comes. There’s a thud, you open your eyes. Evil guy is attached to the wall to your right, covered in what looks to be webs.

“Spider-Man?” You mumble, eyes wide.

”The one and only.” Says a voice beside you, loud, playful.

You whip around, there he stands. Tall, muscular, sporting a suit you’ve seen so many times. On the news, the paper, the internet, now here right in front of you.

He obviously notices your shock, he waves a hand in front of your face and you snap your mouth shut, you hadn’t even noticed it was open.

“You alright, ma’am?” He asked, his voice a gentle timbre, much softer than it was before.

You nod. “I’m not- hurt.” You sputter. “Just shaken up.” He nods thoughtfully.

“Would you like me to take you home? I can deal with this guy after. He’ll still be here.” He jokes, jutting his head to the man attached to the wall.

you blink, once, twice. “Take me home?” You repeat quizzically.

”sure. Would you like to walk or,” he points to the rooftop above, “swing.”

Spider-Man just saved you and now hes asking if he can take you for the joyride of your life.

you look up at the rooftop, and back at him. “Will you go slow?” You ask softly.

“Course I will. I’m sure you're scared enough.” He replies, he almost sounds excited.

“Promise?” You ask thoughtlessly.

He falters at that, nodding his head. “Promise.” He whispers.

He reaches towards you, you give him a look of apprehension.

“Can’t exactly swing without holding onto you, angel.” He chuckles.

You practically melt, your hesitance dripping away from you. You step close to him and place your hands on his sturdy shoulders as he pulls you into his body with one arm.

“Hold on tight, spider monkey.” You can practically hear the smile in his voice.

The quote snaps you out of your daze.

”Twilight?” You question, a smile gracing your lips.

“What? It’s a good movie.” He shrugs, and before you can even respond, he shoots a web to a nearby building and you are suddenly in the air.

You shriek, moulding yourself into him.

”Jesus Christ!” You scream as the two of you continue to ascend at an alarming speed.

“Slow down- slow down- slow down-“ you cry, burying your head into his neck, his hold on your waist tightens.

“Hey, easy, easy. I’ve got you.” He says softly. The movement stops, you’re clearly somewhere very high.

“Look at this.” He whispers.

You shakily lift your head from his neck and your breath stalls in your lungs. The two of you are hanging from a large building, so close to the top you can see the railing, but that’s not what caught your eye. The city, from this view, its beautiful. Thousands of dazzling lights, buildings, life everywhere. The wind whips through your hair.

“Do you get to see this every night?” You ask him, meeting his gaze. The eyes of his mask narrow, you suppose it must be from him smiling.

“Mhm, just about.” He says.

“It’s amazing.” You whisper.

“Yeah. Pretty amazing.”

The two of you stay like that for a bit longer, until the warmth of his body is no longer enough to subdue the cold breeze, the chill set deep in your bones causes you to shiver.

“Better get you home now, it’s late.” He says, swinging down.

You guide him to your apartment building, the ride down much smoother than the ride up.

He drops down on the ground in front of your building, setting you down and making sure you’ve got your footing. When his arm unravels from your waist, you nearly gasp at how much colder you get.

You look at him, still breathless.

“You okay?” He asks once again. And you grin as you nod.

“Thank you, Spider-Man.” You say softly.

He clears his throat. “Of course, just doing my job.” He straightens up, like he’s posing or something, and you can’t help but giggle.

“Well, I better head in.” You say, and he nods.

“Right. Have a good night ma’am. And uh- I guess if you ever need help again, just scream.” He says, backing away.

“You think you’ll be able to hear me?” You ask playfully.

He halts. “Yeah. I’ll hear you.” He says it like a promise, and just as sudden as he had appeared, he was gone.

Your bones were practically jelly by the time you melted into your bed. As you drifted into sleep a smile crept onto your lips.

Abrupt ending!! Sorryyyy anyways hello everyone I’ve returned. Dedicated to @chocolatepeanuttraveler happy late Christmas and late birthday. I LOVE YOUUUUU, im gonna edit later don’t worry guys. Mwah xoxo

[808airsoftbros]

The Half Engine (Blackpink)

Author: Just a teaser hint for my upcoming Halloween oneshot. If you want to see more of my stories check out my Masterlist

The Original Half Engine story was by: [thebogieboy] (His Youtube) Genre: Crossover/Horror

~

Author's POV

It was a ordinary day on the island of Sodor, the engines had been working hard all day on their branch lines delivering passengers and goods across the island.

They were all looking forward to a goodnights long rest at the sheds, everyone that was except for James.

"How long are we going to be kept waiting? At this rate, will be home by nightfall," James sighed as he was waiting at the station.

"Have no fear, James, I'm confident will be back home in no time!" His driver assured but that didn't help ease his mind one bit as he had already seen the sun about to set down soon.

But it didn't help the fact that the weather forecast that there will fog this evening meaning their visibility is limited and travelling down the tracks will be dangerous.

Thankfully for James, he didn't have to wait much longer as his last passengers boarded the coaches.

James blew his whistle as he puffed out of the station to the next, the trip lasted about a couple hours and by the time he shunted the coaches into the yard, it was dark and foggy as predicted.

Despite Jame's headlamp shining brightly, he could hardly see a thing ahead of him so he had to travel down the line cautiously to prevent him from hitting anything.

Despite the Driver and Fireman being experienced navigators, they were eventually lost in the fog, and they didn't know they travelled down into a abandoned siding on the line.

"Stupid fog... I can't see a thing..." James muttered as he puffed down the line.

"Yeah, can't see anything in the distance either, no signs, nothing I'm afraid..." His driver replied and sighed.

"In that case, why don't we just get rid of these unused..." James paused as he saw something that caused his boiler and firebox to freeze.

James applied the brakes slowly putting him into a halt, the fireman and driver were confused and asked what he had stopped for.

However, James couldn't mutter a word out of his mouth as he shook nervously and the Driver got out of the cab to see what was wrong and they gasped as they caught the sight of a scrap engine.

"W-what the bloody hell?! What kind of sick person would scrap an engine like that?!" The driver exclaimed as they couldn't believe what they were seeing.

It was indeed a sorrowful sight to see the empty soul of an engine lying on the side but this was different... The engine was cut perfectly in half without error.

Half of the boiler, cab, funnel, and whistle can be seen, and they wonder how this would be possible as no skilled scrapper is capable of such a thing.

"I don't wanna know! Get me out of here! Get me out of here!" James demanded as he was too terrified to linger any longer.

The crew were quick to agree, they boarded into his cab and James reversed out of the abandon line as fast as his pistons and wheels can take him.

Back at the sheds, the engines were finally able to rest after a long day of work, Sir Topham Hatt arrived to deliver some news to the engine but they had to wait as James was absent.

Finally, James arrived back at Tidmouth sheds and the others were a bit worried and curious as to where James has been all this time as it was late in the night.

"Ah, James, so glad you can join us," Sir Topham Hatt greeted but James didn't reply as he was still too shaken from what he had seen earlier.

"Anyway, onto the point, I've come here to inform you all that we will be visited by celebrities from Korea, so I expect all of you to be on your best behavior, we do not want to give a bad impression, do we? Gordon, I'd like you to transport them from Vicarstown to Tidmouth Station, there we will begin the tour," He explained to the engines and they were quite intrigued and excited as they never had celebrities coming from across the world.

After that, Sir Topham Hatt got into his personal car and drove away from the sheds.

The engines chatted a bit about tomorrow until they eventually fell asleep except for James who could hardly sleep as he had a dreadful feeling that something or someone was watching them from the distance.

The night went on without any incident, James hardly got any sleep but still carried on with his duties as Gordon coupled to the express coaches and made his way to Vicarstown to pick up the guests along with Sir Topham Hatt.

When they arrived, Gordon saw a group of four young women, they stared at him with such curiosity and fascination that it almost made Gordon nervous.

"Ah, good morning, girls, I hope you all had a safe and pleasant trip! It's such a pleasure to have you all come to my railway, my name is Sir Topham Hatt II, and I'm the second generation running this fine railway. This is one of my prestige and trustworthy engines, Gordon, he will be taking you all to Tidmouth station, and we will begin our tour from there!" Sir Topham Hatt greeted to the four girls and they all smiled.

"Thank you for having us, sir, my name is Jisoo, I'm the eldest, and this man here is my manager," Jisoo introduced herself.

"I'm Jennie, I'm the second oldest, surely, you've once watched our music videos?" Jennie introduced herself with a hint of pride.

"My name is, Chaeyoung but everyone calls me Rosé, it's a pleasure to meet you~," Rosé introduced herself with such elegance in her voice.

"Hello, I'm Lisa, the Maknae of the group! This railway is such a nice place!" Lisa introduced herself as she admired the scenery and countryside.

After the introductions, the girls and the Controller boarded onto the express coach and Gordon puffed out of Vicarstown and began the journey to Tidmouth station.

~

Y/N's POV

As I finished doing my morning routine, I put on my work uniform, put on my coat, I put on my shoes, and walked out of the dormitory to Tidmouth sheds.

It was early in the morning at five am, I yawned a bit as I greeted Thomas as I was his driver.

"Good morning, Y/N, I heard we're getting visitors all the way from Korea!" Thomas greeted and I nodded.

"Yeah, I heard about it, they're a Kpop group called Blackpink, I doubt you heard of them... Ya know, since you're an engine," I replied.

"Oh, you'd be right, who is Blackpink and what is Kpop?" Thomas asked as he was slowly generating steam in his boiler.

"Kpop is a music genre, it's quite popular nowadays, can't go one day without hearing one of their songs, and they are talented singers and dancers, I watch them some time," I answered as I was shoveling coal in his firebox getting ready to start the day.

Then we heard a loud whistle and I recognized it to be Gordon as he rolled onto the rolling platform and joined the rest of us in the sheds.

I was wondering what was going on as Gordon should be heading out to take the express coaches by now but I was shocked to see Blackpink themselves.

They were walking with my boss Sir Topham Hatt, and they all stared at the engines with wonder and fascination.

"Good morning, everyone! I'd like to introduce you all to Blackpink, and they have come here for a tour around the island as I announced last night! To start things off, I'd like you all to introduce yourselves!" He instructed.

Henry, Emily, Thomas, Percy, and Edward all introduced themselves to the girls and letting out loud whistles as they generated enough steam in their boilers.

All except for James who still looked uneasy but he snapped out of his trance and introduced himself giving a fake smile trying to hide something.

"Wah, it's such a pleasure to meet you all! I heard so much about this place and it's amazing to be here in person!" Lisa replied as she walked up to the engines.

"Now, Thomas, Y/N, and Elliot, I'd like you to give them the tour around Sodor. Toby will be taking over your branch line for the day, that will be all!" The boss ordered us and we nodded.

"Yes, sir!' Thomas acknowledged and the controller got into his car and drove away leaving us alone.

I showed the girls inside of Thomas's cab, I let them blew the whistle a few times, but while I showed them around, I noticed James looked uneasy and so does the others.

"James, is everything okay?" Edward asked with a hint of concern in his voice.

"Oh, it's nothing..." James tried to play it off but it wasn't going to deter Edward one bit.

"Well, if I don't know any better but is quite rare... Poor little James has seen a ghost," Gordon teased.

Henry and Gordon laughed but the others remained silent including Y/N and the Blackpink members.

"I-I did see something..." James softly spoke up and the two stopped laughing.

"And what is that?" Henry asked in an amusing tone.

"I saw a scrap engine..." He answered and their smiles dropped to a confused to look.

"A scrap engine? That's it? I understand it's rather distressing to see those poor souls but we've all seen them plenty of times yet you never once looked this disturbed," Gordon pointed out but James sighed.

"T-this one was different, the engine was cut in half without a fault... Never seen anything like that before," James mentioned and the others were deeply disturbed.

Myself, Jisoo, Lisa, and Rosé, we're also disturbed about this, except for Jennie was very skeptical about the whole thing and wondered if they were just hallucinating the whole thing.

"James, you must've seen a victim of... 'The Half Engine'..." Thomas replied to him with a nervous look on his face.

"Thomas! This is no time for teasing!" James angrily growled.

"I'm not teasing you! I know exactly what happened!" He assured and Edward insisted on telling us.

Looking at Jennie's skeptical expression, I thought she wouldn't bother listening but she stayed and paid attention to Thomas anyway.

"A long time ago, when Sir Topham Hatt I was running the railway, it was the time when the North Western Railway was founded, many engines had been brought here to help including myself and others. However... there was one engine that was different," Thomas paused as he recalled the tale.

"Something horrible went wrong with her construction, she only had half a face, and the other half being her smokebox door, we could hardly understand what she was trying to say, maintenance on her was a nightmare to watch or listen to, and through all of this... She was in immense excruciating pain, every night we heard her crying and pleading for the pain to go away, it was so horrid that many of us could hardly stomach it," Thomas explains the whole story and the girls were in deep shock about this and again deeply disturbed.

Lisa and Rosé looked at each other with fear written all over their faces and Jisoo didn't say a word but Jennie was skeptical as ever.

"But the nastiest of us and even some of the crews saw it as nothing but a joke, this would all boil up inside of her and one day, her behavior changed for the worst... She became more violent, snapping at everyone she came across, even those who pitied her, and to make things worse, at night, she traveled down the sheds and down a heavily forested line, and when she returned, she swore that we would all perish on this railway, in her gargled barely identical speech, and we began to believe she was possessed and deranged in all her suffering, seeking any ways to get rid of her deformity,"

"Eventually, the Director of the Railway had enough, and he ordered another engine to take her down the smelter yard to be cut up for scrap, at the same time, myself and another engine were heading home from work, but as we made our way down the line, we saw smoke and multiple sounds of fire engines, we rushed to see what happened, and there was a sight I'll never forgot..." Thomas again paused.

"We never saw her again after that day... But rumors spread from workmen about noises on foggy nights, they all told us the same thing, it sounded like someone screaming in pain, and now it seems like her spirit still roams around the railway to this day..." Thomas finished his tale.

Again, the others were silent as the grave, deeply disturbed and terrified of this, the girls were shivering as they looked down the line wondering if perhaps the Half Engine was watching them.

"Pft. What a load of rubbish! Come on guys, you can't be seriously believing this is all real?! It's fake! Just like every other folklore tale! James, what you say may have been a hallucination!" Jennie exclaimed but the others didn't seem to agree with her.

"Jennie, I'm being serious here! It's all real and I was there!" Thomas warned her but she scoffed.

"Yeah, sure... Almost as real as any other scary ghost engine story!" Jennie sarcastically replied and Thomas sighed in defeat.

But little did Jennie know was that something was lurking in the shadows of the yard, watching the others before disappearing in the wind.

I swore I caught a glimpse of an engine down near the shunting yards but it vanished before I got a good look but I have a bad feeling about the whole situation especially for Jennie's safety.

We continued on the tour as scheduled, the camera crew and the girls were vlogging around the island as Thomas, Eliiot and I, were travelling down the main lines.

When it was getting dark, we head down back to the main line and concluded the day as we got good footage for their Youtube channel, and we arrived back to Tidmouth sheds.

After I finished putting Thomas into his designated shed, I guided the girls to the dormitory where they'll be sleeping for the rest of their stay.

"For a railway dormitory, it sure is nice..." Jisoo complimented.

"Yeah, not bad, right? Provided a place to stay and get paid, can't really beat that," I replied and chuckled.

"By the way, Y/N, is the Half Engine, real?" Rosé nervously asked and I sighed.

"If I'm being honest... That is up to you to believe what is real and what is not," I spoke to her with a solemn tone and she gulped.

Not wanting to intrude any further, I bid them goodnight and I went back into my own dorm to get some rest for the night.

~

Jennie's POV

As we settled into our dorm, the girls were getting ready for bed and go to sleep but I wasn't tired yet as I wanted to find out myself if the story of the Half Engine is real or just made up to scare us.

Regardless, I don't believe in the thing but I'm willing to give it a shot, I grabbed my phone and flashlight.

I snuck out of the bedroom without waking up the girls as I quietly exited the dormitory, the night was foggy and quiet giving an uneasy ambience.

Despite all of that, I pressed on as I made my way into the heavily forested line where the Half Engine is said to reside.

I pop up my camera app on my phone beginning to record my investigation.

"Alright, Blinks, this is the investigation of the legend of the Half Engine, where it says is a ghostly engine with half a face and the other half being her smokebox door. To be honest, guys, I'm not too sure about the whole thing, so let us find out!" I started the recording as I ventured down the foggy line.

Ten minutes into my mischief yet dangerous investigation there was nothing out of the ordinary that appeared other than some owls and occasionally deer.

Eventually I was starting to grow bored and figured this whole thing was a waste of time and began pondering if I should just head back to the dormitory.

"Aish, you know what Blinks, I'm tired so this concludes-" She was cut off when she heard a loud banshee like scream causing her to freeze.

"U-uhhh... D-did you hear that...?" She nervously asked the camera and again the scream was heard but this time it was louder.

Then I heard a faint sound of puffing of a steam engine heading my way along with the banshee-like scream.

"W-whos there?! This isn't funny?! Thomas is that you?!" Jennie called out but there was no response.

But at the corner of my eye, I looked into the fog and my stomach dropped as I saw a rusted engine charging at me. But her face was skeletal and the other half being her smokebox... IT CANNOT BE!!!

"AAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!!!" I screamed in terror as the deranged engine was charging torwards me and was about to run me over.

I closed my eyes standing still then I heard someone shouting out my name as I was trembling and frozen in terror.

"Jennie?"

"Jennie?"

"Jennie!"

I opened my eyes fearing to see that ungodly engine but it was long gone and I sighed in relief when I saw Y/N with Thomas with worried looks on their faces.

"Are you okay, Jennie?" Y/N asked as he shined his lantern in his hand.

"I-I guess..." I answered as I was shaken.

"You really shouldn't have gone out this late, do you know what could be out here? Bears, wolfs, and maybe even dangerous people," Y/N scolded me and I looked down in shame.

I pulled out my phone to call my members as they are probably worried sick about me but I gasped when I saw my phone cut clean in half without error...

"N-no way... How is this possible...?" I trembled as I tried to figure out what the fuck happened to my phone.

"You should consider yourself luckty it was your phone... Instead of you," Thomas spoke and I looked up to him.

"What do you mean...? The Half Engine did this to my phone...?" I nervously asked and Y/N nodded.

"Not many people live to tell their tale... Instead, they are found with their corpses cut in half... Just like the engines. I saw her once myself and that's why I consider myself the luckiest man on the island," Y/N explained and shivers ran down my spine as I felt thankful that it took my phone instead of me.

Thomas and Y/N gave me a ride back to the sheds and he guided me back to the dormitory and I was in for a lecture from Jisoo that night but that was the least of my concerns.

Whatever I saw... Whether it be the Half Engine or not, I will never forget it and I feel like this will haunt me for the rest of my life.

I feel sorry and regret that I didn't believe Thomas and instead risked my own life to prove that the Half Engine is nothing but a made-up folklore tale.

Throughout the rest of the trip, nothing happened and I never saw the Half Engine again, but the thought of it lingered in my mind, and sometimes... At night, when I sleep... I feel being watched by something or someone.

[scentedpepper]

Missions, Malaise and Migas Pt. III | Leon Kennedy

Pt. 1 Pt. 2 Pt. 4 Pt.5 Pt. 6 Pt. 7 Final Part

Fandom: Resident Evil

Pairing: Leon Kennedy x Male Reader

Summary: Leon and Y/N have some underlying issues. Ones they tried to warn DSO about.

Content Warnings: None

Other Pairings: Luis Sera x Reader

Author Note(s): Don't mind errors, I edited this half asleep

Things get less gender netrual here with he/him pronouns being used

The storm is back. The rain is pounding down on the window and you're not sure how much time has passed, only that the windows are practically fogged up now and Luis seems to have all the areas of your body that hurt wrapped up like a mummy.

You stay void of the areas that have bandages plastered to them as you wipe the grime from your body with a rag. When the water in the tub has turned a brown color you drain it and fill it halfways again, like a mop bucket.

The bathroom is silent other than the continous splash of soapy water and the scrubbing sound that emits from the rag moving too harshly against your skin. Your hair is damp, pushed back and out of your face.

And though you can hear Luis rummaging around in the other room and you can faintly smell something being cooked, it's not enough of a distraction to pull you away from your thoughts. It was stupid coming here without a word. You knew that. And you were dreading what would come after.

It was just a bad move.

Luis, bless his soul and his ability to set up a good atmosphere and help you feel comfortable, had taken to leaving you alone and making you ease into the change of setting. It would be rude not to appreciate it, or try to find a way to ask for his forgiveness instead.

You sigh, moving to sit on the edge of the tub, hands dipping into the water to unplug the drain and let the it escape. You step out after watching it swirl and swirl and swirl. But your movements feel slowed, as if the moment you step from this bathroom, your responsibilities come back to you. –Not that they ever left.

So you stay in there for a while, staring at yourself in the mirror. You comb through your hair with your fingers. More time than necessary is taken to check over everything. Some blotches and bags have formed underneath your eyes, tiredness seeping into your muscles, showing itself in different parts of you. It makes you annoyed. Wanting to leave, get your partner, go home.

"Mierda. " Luis cusses and you can only guess it's because he's burnt his finger on the skillet.

It's enough to move you away from your head and you reach for the boxers the man leant you without a second thought. You step into them slowly, and you pull them up even slower before settling on yourself in the mirror again, adjusting the waist band.

Your shoulder hurts and so do your hands, but everything else feels less stiff. You have one hand resting on the mirror as you gaze at yourself. More marks from various different missions litter your face. It wasn't unusual to forget what the normal you used to look like.

Your eyes are droopy, your features weighted with tiredness. But before you know it, they're changing, switching rapidly and you're grabbing your gun from the counter top. Suddenly, all your exhaustion is gone and you feel your body shoot to the exit like a missle.

Your eyes are wide when you burst through from the bathroom and your bare feet cause a crunch when you're left to stand on the door that's been knocked clean off its hinges laid in the middle of the walkway.

Your gun is up, arms outstretched the moment you turn the edge of the door frame and your finger is twitching at the trigger. You don't see anything at first, but when you pursue deeper into the room, your tense shoulders fall at the sight.

Luis is pressed against the wall, his hands are up in surrender, and there's a gun digging into the side of his turned face.

The food has been discarded, onto the floor, the skillets face down, the tables on its side.

Everything has gone to complete dissary in a matter of minuets.

"Where is he?" The voice is deep, angry and littered with resentment.

"Has interrumpido la cena, amigo. "

"In English. " The cold steel is pressing harder.

"Leon, let him go. " The words come out of your mouth with the breath you'd been holding.

The gun lowers so fast it may as well have turned back into air, never even been there at all. And you watch Luis retreat away from the opposing partner who has yet to even look at you, hands still raised in the air.

You're just standing there, near nudity, staring. Staring at the gradual lowering of Luis arms. Staring at Leon's back. Staring at Ada.

Staring at him.

When he finally turns around, his gaze moves straight to you before it darts over the bandages and all the bruises littered across your body. He's frozen at the sight of you and he keeps trailing all of your injuries but his face is unreadable.

His eyes go down your arm, stop at your ring. Flicker back up to the underwear.

"Put this on. " He says suddenly, jerking his upper body, and your eyes have already found the fabric flung towards you, plucked from your lost bag by the time his hand has released it.

You've already gathered that he's angry but this is no explosion and your eyebrows are creased in concern.

"How did-? " You ask cautiously and the last syllable of your sentence is barely heard as Leon turns his back to you.

"We're leaving. " He says bluntly and you hesitate a bit, slowly putting the pants on anyway.

"Leon, " its the beginning of Adas reasoning. "It's dark, we should wait out the storm. Your partner needs rest. " She shakes her head with a sigh. "Just look at him. "

As Ada refers to you, Leon's eyes stay solidly on her. You can see the muscles of his jaw clenching and unclenching. You can see him taking in a deep breath before addressing the situation. You can hear him when he speaks, when his eyes drill through anyone who looks at him.

"We have nowhere to go but forward. He'll have tough it out. “

Leon stares a bit longer, his words for you, for Ada, for Luis. He's just as emotionless when he's talking as when he was earlier and his fists clench and flex with the tense atmosphere he's created.

Leave it to Luis to never learn when to shut up.

"¿Perdón?" Luis takes one step forward. "He stumble in here, his poor body being bruised and broken. What were you doing in the moutains in the first place?" His hands are flat out, throwing questions the other man's way and the glare he receives only makes his eyes bigger, his movement more emphatic. "He has to rest! You want him dead?" His exclamations are fueled with exasperation.

Ada is not helping at all, staring silently and watching Leon out of the corner of her eye like she can tell what's about to happen.

"Don't be dense. You took his shirt off, didn't you?" The look on his face twists slightly, anger brewing, mixing with the other emotions that have started to surface. You've known him long enough you're able to read a few pages. "He doesn't need rest. " He squints. "He needs to get back in his gear and learn what it means to follow orders. "

That one gets you. It heats you to your core.

"Estúpido!" He grunts. "You won't even take the time to- to, " A hand gestures lazily. "take a moment and look at him. Look around you! " His hands swing wildly again.

Your face scrunches at the thought. "Luis. " You try to interject, huffing as you step forward, putting yourself more into his field of vision, but it doesn't work. They both ignore you all together.

"What's next, Captain? Hmmm?" He keeps rolling out with it. "This?" He swipes his forearm outwards, gesturing to your person. "Is this next? His death?" His hands bang together before gripping the air. "Another funeral you have to plan?"

That tears Leon apart. Splits him like paper. And the only way he can think to retaliate is with anger and harsh tones and the rebuttal comes from him almost faster than you can blink.

"Maybe if he could afford to listen! Maybe then, I won't have to push him so hard! To look at what his failures lead too!"

The accusation pisses you off more than anything has in a while.

"Leave. " You say and you're trying to keep things under wraps before they get more out of hand. The single word is pushed out fast and the way you're folding your arms over your chest helps you hide some of the hurt and the clenched expression you wish not to display.

Leon, stubborn and angry, doesn't listen.

"Yes, leave, hermano!" Luis insists.

"Maybe we should step out. " It's Ada speaking up now, her voice carrying a certain amount of calm and seriousness, but she makes no move to go, she simply addresses Leon.

Leon's reply is swift. "We have a mission. "

"Just to breathe. " She clarifys, holding the bridge of her nose, her lashes kissing and mingling together when she closes her eyes before she's sighing. "Why do we have to hold him prisoner? He looks like shit, Leon. " Her arm reaches to push her hair back.

A beat passes.

"Your mission can go to shit too. Like that. " She snaps her fingers in the air.

You know she's right, the both of you.

There's a silence that wafts over the air, like the calm before the storm, and you know it has hit Leon. That the words that have been spoken are sticking and he is analyzing all of them like a puzzle.

But he can't seem to muster up his next line and he's trudging out of the room, knocking his shoulder into yours.

Your face distorts into of pain as your left hand grapples where he'd hit you, the fresh relocation of your shoulder tender and sore.

Ada inhales, looking away for a moment and rubbing her brow again before she follows Leon.

The click of her heels pause when she gets to your side and her hand is resting on top of yours, her painted fingers far gentler than the current hold you have on your shoulder. "It was bad, wasn't it?" She asks and her eyes are fixated on her hand like it knows the answer better than her own mouth.

It was and she can see that without having to question you, but neither one of you press for further elaboration.

"I'll bring your boy back more reasonable, don't worry. " She beckons and her hand flits from you.

Luis is talking out his concern as he follows her, probably to put the door back up, waving his hands over his head, turning around abruptly, saying something in Spanish as he points at you. You can't make out half of it, but you believe it to be more exasperation.

The sound of the door being placed back in its frame is loud and chaotic and under normal circumstances you probably would've laughed at the lanky man. But it all feels like white noise right now. Your feet take you to the bedside and your body feels as heavy as a brick.

You let out a hefty puff, your fingers rubbing against your eyes until Luis' footsteps near closer and he is clasping your chin. You're already turned up to stare at him, eyes trained into his warm gaze.

"Mi amor. I'm sorry. " He states and you shake your head as his hand trails up your bandaged one, his skin touching you. He lays his fingers on the split of your palm.

"No big deal. " You dismiss but your voice doesn't meet your words.

"Lo es. " It's quiet and it's a hiss. He disagrees, even though, at this point, you're not sure if he understands you've brought this upon yourself. He starts to say more and the small laugh that's escaped his lips comes out halfway through. "You two so stupid. "

He's amused now, and you can't really help the small smile that warms your lips. He leans in slightly to place a lingering kiss on your forehead, the feel of his soft, brown strands falling onto you.

The creases of his eyes soften after a moment and he retracts his hands, sitting beside you on the edge.

"I fix some food. " He resumes and his steps are bouncy and upbeat this time, like the problem has already been rectified. "Simple. Because sancho..." He gestures to the fallen food on the floor, his tongue clicking.

He is so unbothered.

You feel like this was his intention the whole time. To get you smiling, which you're sure doesn't happen enough when you're not around him.

You give a half nod in response.

"You eat?" Luis is quick to fill the air.

"Two days. " You reply.

He scoffs slightly, pausing for a moment in the kitchen area.

"Grow your waist line, sweetpea. No time to lose. "

A small, rumbling laugh rolls in your throat. It's soft and nonchalant and your head is hanging, eyes closed for a moment. But you feel a little bit lighter after it.

"Now, you are tired. " Luis says.

"Luis. "

"Shhh. "

Your head rises to look at him and it hurts your neck to keep your gaze elevated but he's so matter of fact about everything it makes you roll your eyes and huff, laying back on his bed. Just for a moment. Just to rest.

"You sleep. Don't let him bother you. "

"Mmm. " You slur.

Luis looks over you when he turns, placing something back in the fridge. You're fighting the weariness, keeping your eyes open, watching his movements. He's humming to himself and re-stacking papers that had fallen when the door had been sent through the air moments before.

You fight it, but the sweet hum of a song you don't know begins to lull you, send you drifting. It was so nice to just stop for a moment. It was so nice to find Luis, a home, even if it was temporary, a place that could feel friendly while the world around you was turning without end, an uncontrollable amount of death and destruction looming.

So you fall, with the final note of his melody in your ears, asleep on the brink of the end of the world.

[anfie-in-the-box]

Rest for both wicked and weary

Notes

The eleventh of October is my birthday, but no congratulations needed — I only celebrate by gifting things to other people. Please have this piece dedicated to @dragon-tamer-1, who I value endlessly. The prompt was Error and Dream relaxing peacefully; I'm not sure if it's particularly fluffy, there's definitely some angst here, but even more Hurt/Comfort.

。。。

Dream prepares for his visit to the Anti-Void painstakingly. He wears clothes of soft gray shades, only leaving the tiara and the cape untouched, so it doesn't bother Error's weak eyesight yet has enough colour to attract his attention. Then Dream gets a cane — in the Anti-Void, vast and ever-changing, you don't believe your eyes; you stay vigilant and keep your step light, weightless almost. Luckily, Dream isn't a normal skeleton, he just has a body of one; and even that can be corrected with the right training. Or just experience, he supposes; oh, how he used to shamble around, making Error laugh, before he realised he could use a cane. Like a blind being, only he is indeed blind in the Anti-Void, like all not-errors are. He's a stranger there, and since he can't become an error, an unwelcome one.

Dream sighs, putting on thin gloves, just in case. He's ready now. 

It takes time to focus properly — the Anti-Void is utterly chaotic, constantly rebuilding itself, and full of creatures beyond comprehension. Some of them are capable of feeling, some aren't, some feel but so differently Dream is left confused — he's too used to his empathic abilities. 

But eventually, finally, he finds the right being. So he teleports. 

Error instantly spots him, even though Dream appears behind him. He might be half-blind with that poor eyesight of his, but his intuition is impeccable — at least when it comes to beings with souls, which Dream is. 

"I was waiting for so long," Error complains, irritated. "How many tries did it take to find me?" 

"Just one," Dream smiles widely. "It took more time, but I managed to find you in one try." He knows he sounds very proud of himself, but that's okay. With Error, he's allowed to feel and think unapologetically. Error, though he demands attention, lets Dream go just as easily. And besides, they teach each other many things — Error knows how to be selfish very well indeed and learns from Dream how to be more empathetic and considerate.

They work together quite nicely.

Lost in his pride, Dream forgets to use the cane and immediately trips and falls — not right on his face though — there are blue strings keeping him airborne. He giggles awkwardly and says, "Thanks." 

"Yeah, yeah, tell me how great I am." Error doesn't turn around but Dream knows he grins. He can't help smiling in return. 

"You can put me down now, you know," Dream half-suggests, half-asks while wiggling slightly to try and untangle himself without Error's help. Tough luck. 

"As if you could escape on your own!" Error gloats. "I hold the entire universes, a small guardian like you doesn't stand a chance!" 

"Yet Ink manages," Dream disagrees carefully. 

"That cheater doesn't have a soul. You do." 

Now that's something Dream hasn't pondered over. Not right now either — as soon as Error sets him free, he scurries to his blue bean bag chair — this time using the cane, of course, — and sits down — lies down almost. It's warm and soft. Cozy. So big it's more of a bed than a chair; which might as well be true, there's nothing else here resembling a bed, and Dream knows for sure Error loves sleeping.

"Where did you even get your bean bag from?" Dream asks, ready to hear it's stolen like chocolate from Underfell and the lives of innocents from any other AU. 

Error doesn't reply instantly. Dream even considers standing up and looking Error in the sockets to see what's wrong, but then he finally says, "I actually don't remember. Like it's always been there, maybe even before me."

Who knows, it might be true. The Anti-Void contains and loses all sorts of creatures, after all. 

Error sounds distressed like he always is when his memory acts up, so Dream hurries to roll closer and asks, "A pinkie?" 

"A hand," Error replies, every sound of a single word glitching. 

Dream gives him a bare hand — he still hasn't found gloves tender enough to pacify Error's glitching fits. For some reason it's easier for him to touch Dream's bones than any fabric they'd tried. 

Perhaps it's time to ask if Error has any idea why. When he gets better, of course. Hopefully it doesn't last long.

Dream squeezes Error's hand and gets a squeeze in return. At least he's conscious and not rebooting…

"You feel… different. There's more, er, something other than magic in you. Magic in skeleton-monsters or even monsters in general is more solid than whatever you're made of. Not even ghosts are anything like you." Error explains. 

"Positivity," Dream clarifies. "I'm made of positity. Not entirely, my bones are just that — magical bones; but even those are covered with positive energy. And my eye-lights, my insides, my attacks are all pure positivity." 

"Well, that explains it," Error shrugs. "You're basically so much of a sunshine it overwhelms my phobia and cancels it. As much as it can be canceled, I suppose." 

"Does it really help though? My presence, my… touch?" Dream pauses before the last word, feeling all warm yet uncertain. 

He knows it does. And knows Error knows he knows. But hearing the answer and believing it are two different states of mind. Dream's yet to reach the second one. 

And so Error answers absolutely honestly, "It does."

The two of them then sit together, still holding hands, resting in peace and quiet.

Later Error might or might not steal a book or a few and make Dream read to him, and Dream will read, silently reminiscing about the days of old, when his brother was alive but not happy, not since the villagers came to be. He loved the books though, and loved reading them to Dream, though the little guardian of positivity was beside the Tree less and less, helping the villagers where he could, and then where he couldn't but still did, because people demanded. The memories are bittersweet, and even later Dream will share a few with Error, and Error will listen attentively, and then share his own foggy memories of the past, full of inconsistent and even missing bits.

"A hug and a trip to that version of Outertale I found?" Error asks suddenly. 

"Sounds like a plan," Dream beams. Error rarely requests hugs but that just makes them even more precious to the guardian of positivity. 

So they stand up — Error effortlessly, Dream's with a bit more difficulty, he's not exactly used to furniture like Error's bean bag, — and embrace. 

"Is the texture of my clothes still good?" Dream asks when they let go of each other. 

Error nods, grinning, "Perfect, as I deserve."

"Glad to hear that. Outertale?" 

"Yeah. It's unlike most of the AUs where some people manage to evacuate. True genocide, nobody left. You won't feel a thing, not a single grieving or furious soul," Error looks at Dream with pride. 

"That's… really smart, actually." Dream says thoughtfully. "Nothing to make me stronger, but also nothing to make me weaker or attract Corrupted." 

"Of course it's smart. It was my idea after all." Error boasts and opens a portal. "You first." 

Dream smiles at him and makes his first step into outer space. He's not afraid; he won't be alone in its solitude. 

。。。

Notes

Lots and lots of headcanons here!

Anti-Void being full of non-existent things, Dream's true nature peaking through his skeleton form... It was really nice to finally share those.

Also very proud of the title choice here. It came to me naturally. I instantly knew — that's it. As perfect as anything in this world can be.

[sweetpea-chickadee]

Creative feedback appreciated for a modern fantasy short story! Disregard formatting and gramattical errors, I'm moving from Google doc directly to Tumblr and I have Grammarly. I just want to see how compelling page one is for now!

The Devil’s Hair, brown and Fair; The Angel’s Eyes, Cold and Wide By Lauren Black

Dead leaves carried through the wind, illuminated by street lamps that flickered with a furious buzz. It was a stark contrast to the bright white backdrop of the construction site, as elves and orcs busied themselves to clear debris of the finished building. In any other city, a new building would be nothing to marvel at, but in a town as small as Corpse Hollow, it was a marvelous feat.

Half past 2 AM, and when the rest of the town was asleep–nestled in the warm embrace of safety and comfort–Daemon, the newest orc-hand brought on the team, tolled away moving bits of rubble to take back to the trucks. It was dusty work, gruesome, and tiring, but that was his strong suit: being the muscle. And as Daemon moved a particular large piece of rubble, the other workers on the corner of Kipling and Creek looked in horror at a grisly scene.

Against the dust of old rebar and concrete laid the decayed human remains, sitting in a heap. The decomposing head of a woman sat away from the pile and looked back at Daemon. Her eyes–a milky, pearly white–stared back at Daemon in a way that made him feel like she were looking into his soul. His stomach lurched. The smell. Oh, the smell. That reached the other orcs and elves even before the rest of the crew could reach her.

“Hey, uh, Williams?”

Daemon called out to his supervisor. It was a gruff voice, stern and shaky, and out of character for him. “You better call this one in.”

A quarter past 2 AM, and police were immediately involved. That stark white soon was flooded with the classic flash of red and blue, all still under flickery street lamps.

“Never a dull night. Always some freakshow, huh, Jackie?”

Morgan sighed, although still laced with a dry chuckle. He rolled his neck from side to side, relieving a build up of tension in the muscles, before getting the door for his new partner to step out.

“It’s Jacqueline, remember,” The tiefling chidded. “And if you wanted a slower line of work, I’m sure John in the mailroom could use another hand.”

Jacquline pulled back her lips into a smile, her black lipstick making her pointed fangs almost invisible in the early hours of the morning, and whacked the tip of her tail gently against Morgan’s calf.

“I’ll take my lot with the dead, Jackie. They make better conversationalists anyway.”

“Come on, humans are great storytellers. Wonderful way around books.”

“Never said humans weren’t. Some of them have pretty smiles too, and beautiful pearly eyes.”

A milky pearl, Theresa’s eyes were. Blind, beautiful, perfect. She saw past every flaw, every mistake. With her, Morgan could just be Morgan the Mortician, at least before moving on up to forensics and eventually Major crimes. The half-elf cleared his throat in embarrassment as a warm crimson moved up his neck.

“Or so I hear.”

“Oh yeah, have a pretty elf-maiden at home? Keeping a juicy story from your best friend?”

Jacqueline elbowed him in the ribs in a playful manner.

“A beautiful human, thank you very much, and woah now. A little presumptuous with the titles, aren’t we. There’s only room in my heart for one best friend, so you’ll have no be content with settling below her. Now shush, we have work to do.”

He sighed once more and ran a slim hand through shaggy tawny hair. It was messy, sure, but not unbearably so. Before she could come up with a witty retort, Morgan was already feet in front of her, ready to meet with the construction workers on scene.

“Wait!”

The poor girl huffed and jogged up to catch him.

“We’re supposed to be working together, Morgue.”

He glanced to the side at her, almost in a You’re supposed to be a professional, behave like one warning. It was a silly name. One he earned working in forensics before suddenly disappearing from the job all together. It was a story saved for him and a few within his own inner circle–an inner circle that Jacquline knew she hadn’t crossed just yet.

“Detective Morgan Van der Beek from Elven, Tiefs, and Human Major Crimes Unit; and this is my partner Detective Jacqueline Baptiste. May we see where the woman was found?”

The workers, Williams and Daemon, too shaken up to speak very loud, nodded slowly and waved the pair over. A chilling scene given the enormous stature of the orcs.

“Oh, Gods.”

Jacqueline covered her mouth in disgust at the smell as Morgan knelt by the open hole where the young woman lay. She expected a snide comment at her weak constitution, maybe even a snide or crude joke, anything to cover the unease. That was the main thing she noticed when she was first assigned to be Morgan’s partner: the man was always quick to make a quick jab. She at first thought he didn’t care if he disrespected the dead–they were dead afterall–but she came to know that’s just how Morgan behaved. He wasn’t an old grisled, tough guy she expected him to be. He was just a tired, time-saddened man–or rather young adult by half-elven years.

And yet, no crude or sarcastic comment came from his lips. Instead, it was dark silence followed by sniffles. And a hiccup. And a quiet, shaky sob. She looked down at him through thick eyelashes to see Morgan wiping small tears from his eyes. This was the first time Jacqueline had ever seen Morgan cry. He hovered over the woman’s head, shielding her identity from Jacqueline. It must have been grotesque at the very least, seeing how Morgan fully reacted to the sight before him.

“Morgue, I get you’ve got a weak stomach, but pull yourself together, man. You can cry a river on the way back to the station.”

“Fuck me, it’s Theresa. She’s Theresa. My Theresa.”

[lostrealities0]

Finding Home part 1

Next

It was a quiet night for Run of the Mill Pizza. Only a handful of customers showed, and Señor Hueso had half a mind to let his recently employed nephew nuisance have the night off.

Leo dramatically gasped at the suggestion. "What? And let you have all the fun? Absolutely not." The teen worked harder after that, as if to prove a point. The skeleton smiled softly when he saw the tips Leo earned after every table he waited.

Hueso was clearing a table when he heard a knock at the entrance. That was odd. When no other sound followed, Hueso shrugged and moved on.

He nearly jumped out of his bones when Pepino appeared next to him. "Are you not going to let them in?"

"If they don't know how to enter, then it is likely a human."

Leo scoffed. "You serve April."

"Yes, because she was a friend of yokai, or mutants in your case. I am not opposed to serving humans, but I need to know they won't cause me problems."

The two walked back to the kitchen. "I guess that's fair. It's a shame really. So many people never getting the chance to eat your deliciously amazing food."

Hueso rolled his eyes at the teen's theatrics, suppressing a smile. "I appreciate the high praise. Ahora lava los platos."

Leo saluted.

--

Hueso was eager to get home and spend time with his son. Unfortunately, he would have to wait.

On his way to leave, something fell through the pizzaria's entrance. Black goo with flailing arms yelped as it passed through the wall (not the portal, the wall, he noted) and splattered against onto the floor.

The skeleton mentally groaned, praying that whatever it was didn't leave a mess.

The goop gathered itself into a humanoid figure. They were devoid of any features, besides what looked like hair and their eyes. White circles looked up at Hueso with a mixture of shock, shyness and fear. Long hair made from the same goop that made up the rest of them slightly floated around their shoulders, as if they were underwater.

The two stared at each other for what felt like hours.

"...The restaurant's closed."

---

---

I'll be adding more to this as time goes on. Everyday I grieve for the lack of Hueso content so to heal my soul, I decided to make it myself.

Basically, the whole story is the skeleman adopts another child. I'm still deciding whether to make this an oc fic or a reader fic so if any of you have a preference, let me know. No matter what tho, they will be male and mainly use he/him.

Anyways, hope you enjoyed reading. Let me know if there are any errors

[lysatoru]

Geto Suguru - Twin Flames

cw : ANGST, doesn’t really follow the jjk plot

tw : mention of suicide, death, mention of anxiety/panick attack, toxic relationship

Twin flames are the result of the splitting of a single soul.

I had found my twin flame, the flame that destroyed and healed me day by day. He was my blessing and my curse, my success and my failure, he was me and I was him. He was the other side of my soul. Our souls became one. Geto Suguru, you were my other half.

We met one night in a bar. He was with his friends and I was with mine. Our eyes met and we never took our eyes off each other again. It wasn't love at first sight, I'd felt another sensation, much stronger, of immeasurable energetic intensity. I could feel it, my entity was complete and balanced thanks to him. He was the masculine, aggressive, nervous part of me, while I was the feminine, gentle part of him. There was no need for words, we just knew that we were connected. Our souls communicated and danced. He was me.

Our story began that famous evening, the night we came together for life and death. The love and the wounds only grew. Suguru wanted to be me at all costs, he felt the need, his love was suffocating, but I needed it to live. I was afraid, afraid of so much love, and all I could think about was running away from it. I used to adapt to the people I met. Knowing that someone could see through all that and knew me better than I knew myself scared me.

I felt as if I'd known him all my life, because in the end, we were each other. Our souls became one, growing and maturing with us. To be honest, the relationship was devastating for both him and me. Emotionally, I'll never get over it. We hurt each other psychologically on purpose to see who could hurt the other the hardest. We couldn't stay apart for more than two days, it was insurmountable. I felt like my whole being was leaving with him and I wasn't myself anymore. I needed him like I needed no one else.

Suguru was ready to sacrifice himself for me,

and he did.

He knew that the relationship was toxic, it was never healthy. But the separation was so destructive that we tried to stay together.

One evening, I was on the bus coming home from work. I caught myself in tachycardia, I was shaking, I couldn't breathe. In fact, I was having an panick attack, something had happened to Suguru. I got off at the next stop and ran on and on, shouting "Suguru". I cried and cried. I knew that Suguru had stayed at home that day and I had to get there. When I got to the front of his appartment, I was scared to open the door. Once in the living room, I saw him lying on the floor. His breathing had stopped and he had no pulse. There was a letter on the table, and I knew immediately. He had committed suicide. I picked up the letter, my tears wouldn't stop, my hands were shaking and I found myself unable to breathe.

"Thank you for crossing my path, you're everything that's most important to me, unfortunately you and I both know that love isn't enough in this kind of relationship. You were me and I saw you suffering, it was unbearable. I didn't want to go through your abandonment a second time. By doing that, I saved myself, I saved us."

I had just lost my soul. He was my blessing as well as my curse, he was my success as well as my failure, he was me and I was him. He was the other part of my soul. Our souls became one. Geto Suguru, you were my other half. When I lost Suguru, I died with my eyes open.

A few days later, I found myself at the funeral of my other half, my one and only. After the ceremony, I stood for hours in front of his grave, wondering "what have I done?" .

A hand came to rest on my shoulder and the man next to me said that love is the most twisted curse of them all.

Hi! first post here, english isn’t my first language so i use google traduction to help me, if there are any grammatical errors i’m sorry!!

i don’t really know how tumblr works but you can reblog and comment i you liked it!

[raineandsky]

#49

“You’ll have my back, right?” the villain asks hopefully.

They’re leading the way, through twisting corridors and up long flights of stairs. Their henchman is trailing along behind them, not even keeping track of which way they're going. They’re going to the supervillain’s office. That’s all they gleaned from the villain’s excitable speech before they set off.

“Of course,” the henchman reassures with a smile. “Always.”

The supervillain’s office looks like a slightly eviller version of a normal office. It’s just a bit darker than average, black and red instead of pasty grey. The supervillain himself is sitting at his desk, slightly raised off the main floor like some sort of incredibly mundane throne.

“I’m glad you’re here, [Villain],” he opens flatly, as if he doesn’t really mean it. “Shut the door.”

The henchman slips through behind the villain, offering a quick grin of confidence as they pass. The supervillain raises an eyebrow at their appearance.

“I think you’ll find this is a private conversation, [Villain],” he adds pointedly as they shut the door behind them.

The villain frowns like this is obvious. “Won’t tell a soul, sir.”

The supervillain’s gaze flits lazily to the henchman, who is trying very hard to disappear into the corner of the room as any good henchman should. “You brought a subordinate.”

“Oh.” The villain turns to glance at the henchman, throwing them a quick smile. “Yeah, they’re good.”

The supervillain narrows his eyes like it’s a challenge. “Last chance.”

His expression does nothing to shift the innocence in the villain’s. “I’d like them here, actually.”

The supervillain lets his eyes slip back to the villain, his contempt clear in his face, but after a moment he relaxes, almost smug. “Very well.”

He finally leans back from the papers sitting in front of him, resting his hands on the polished ivory desk. “Your work has been lacking recently, [Villain],” he starts sombrely, and even from here the henchman can see how the villain deflates at the bluntness of it. “Our plans are often falling short because you aren’t doing your bit.”

“I– I’m trying,” the villain defends feebly. “I’ve had a lot going on. I can’t keep with it, I’m—”

“Do you think your schedule will matter when the heroes take half of us down because of an error you made?”  The villain stays quiet, their entire figure wilting, so the supervillain happily fills the silence. “Your mistakes are tallying up remarkably fast. I expect to see your behaviour remedied within this next week.”

His gaze flits to the henchman again, his mouth ever-so-slightly upturned into a disgusting smirk. “And don’t bring your lapdog to a private meeting next time. It makes you look weak.”

The villain turns back to glance at the henchman and their face pulls like they’re trying not to cry. “I’m sorry, sir,” they say quietly when they turn back, stifling a hiccuping sob. “I was– I was just—”

“Scared? Needing moral support?” the supervillain finishes harshly, and from the way the villain’s shoulders hunch it’s obvious the tears haven’t stayed back. “You’re pathetic. Get your shit together this week or you’re gone.”

He turns back to the papers on the desk like the conversation is over. The villain stares at him for a moment before turning away, motioning for the henchman to follow suit. One look at the kicked-puppy expression and poorly repressed snivels are all the henchman needs to burst into action. The villain seems to suddenly feel something other than despair when the henchman stalks past them and up towards the supervillain.

“[Henchman]—” is all they get to before the henchman’s hands slam against the desk, much to the supervillain’s barely concealed surprise.

“Excuse you?” he manages once his expression is back to nonchalance.

“Take it back,” the henchman demands, earning another blasé eyebrow raise. “[Villain] is not weak, or pathetic.”

His expression turns humoured. “Oh, the lapdog is for moral support!” He laughs ecstatically, and the henchman feels a light hand on their arm.

“Thank you, [Henchman], but it’s okay,” the villain whispers a little desperately, but the henchman’s not done. They carefully shrug their hand away, throwing them a soft glance that they hope conveys let me help you before turning coldly back to the supervillain.

“You think you’re so special because you sit in an office all day and do fuck all,” the henchman spits, much to the villain’s audible dismay, “but I know you could never do what they do. You complain about their performance at their worst when you couldn’t even match them at your best.”

“I sit in an office all day because I’m running this place,” the supervillain reminds them coldly, and the henchman scoffs with disrespect he likely hasn’t seen in a long time.

“And yet you’d be nothing without people like us doing everything for you. You think you can throw your weight around because everyone bows down to you, but I don’t.” The henchman huffs in annoyance, finally leaning back. “If you try to get rid of [Villain], you get rid of me, too.”

The supervillain grins as if it's an easy decision. “Then say your goodbyes.”

“But I’m the best lapdog you have around here.” The henchman’s expression twists into a sneer. “I was top of the league as a support to all the villains I helped. You lose me, you’re just stuck with a bunch of asshole villains who think they’re too good to ever be like me. Do you know what happens when a bunch of assholes trying to be the main character try to do anything on their own?”

“I can replace you,” the supervillain says quickly, and the henchman knows they’re backing him into a corner.

“I’m the best this place has seen in years. We’ll say our goodbyes, but good fucking luck surviving without us.” They turn on their heel, happily done with the conversation. “Let’s go, [Villain].”

The villain glances in horror between the two, stunned speechless, but a quick nudge from the henchman sets them into motion. The henchman opens the door for them at the end of the room, and it’s only then that the supervillain suddenly pipes up, his voice uncharacteristically hurried.

“I won’t dispose of you, [Villain],” he calls with fake confidence, earning pause from the pair in the doorway, “but I still expect improvement.”

“Y–Yes, sir,” the villain mumbles with a short nod, and with that the door shuts behind them.

The villain waits until they’re a little way down the corridor before they speak. “Holy shit!” they announce finally, grinning as they swipe at the last of the tears in their eyes. “[Henchman], you maniac! Oh, my god, thank you, thank you so much—”

“It’s alright, [Villain],” they offer with a bright smile. “I said I’d have your back.”

[psych0cherry]

Spend eternity with me.(Douma x F! Reader)

Synopsis: Since you were a little girl, you served the temple of Douma, out of respect for your family's tradition. However, something inside you always felt that place was not as welcoming as it should be. One night, unable to sleep, you decided to take a wander through the temple. It was then that his eyes captured a half-open door, with soft lighting coming from within. Driven by curiosity, you peeked through that gap and witnessed a terrible spectacle: Master Douma devouring a woman of dazzling beauty, now lifeless.

Warnings: Douma is an asshole, Masochism, sadomasochism, humiliation, Blood and death, Self-mutilation,Sexual Slave,a little sex, maybe chains, Handcuffs, thorns or something like that. Rea,d at your own risk, lol.

Disclaimer: I'm Brazilian and I don't speak English! This is all translated from Google translator, so maybe there might be some errors.

Each day that passed in the temple seemed repetitive, a cycle that subtly involved and frustrated you. However, daring to defy the will of her strict family was a burden she preferred not to carry. It wasn't that her life was devoid of comfort, it was just steeped in monotony. Contrary to most people there, you didn't find a sense of welcome in that place, nor did you feel comfortable confessing and making requests to the Master of the Temple, Douma-Sama. Not that you suspected his existence, because it was impossible to deny his angelic and mesmerizing presence, with his rainbow-colored eyes, truly enchanting. However, an inexplicable apprehension accompanied her whenever she found herself in Douma's presence. A shiver ran down her spine as those piercing eyes delved into her soul. It was undeniable that Master Douma understood the fear you harbored for him. And that smile that crossed your lips when you revealed such fear was far from conveying any comfort.

The night enveloped you in its icy mantle, while you struggled in bed in search of a comfortable position to finally rest. Minutes seemed to drag on in endless agony. The night air was merciless, making the blanket never enough, and this realization was beginning to frustrate him. With a sigh, you got up, grabbing the first thick piece of clothing you found and leaving the coziness of the room where you slept. With no specific destination in mind, he walked through the halls of the majestic temple.

The decor was truly stunning, a testament to the hard work of the temple servants in keeping everything spotless. It was a real treat for the eyes. You gently ran your fingertips over some of the antique and meaningful paintings that adorned the walls, allowing a soft smile to escape.

"This one is magnificent..." He murmured while admiring one painting in particular, in which the artist had portrayed Douma-Sama himself with overwhelming talent. For a brief moment, you allowed yourself to admire the portrayed figure... Douma was truly beautiful. It was impossible to deny it. However, because you imagined him to be some kind of deity, you always felt impure when you had such thoughts. I preferred, therefore, to put aside these uncomfortable reflections.

A distraction interrupted his contemplation of the painting, when his eyes caught a glow coming from one of the rooms of the temple, even with the door almost closed. Intrigued, her attention was captivated by the mysterious murmurs and whispers that floated through the air. Although instinct told you to stay away, curiosity aroused within you, and with light, stealthy steps, you approached the door, allowing your eyes to see each other through a small gap, curious to see what was going on. But what he witnessed inside made his skin instantly pale, and his eyes widen in disbelief. No... it couldn't be true. Before his eyes, Douma was satiated with the flesh of a beautiful woman's legs, while the surrounding scenery was stained with scarlet blood, and an icy wind ran through the environment. In that instant, you finally realized: Douma was not merely human, nor was he a divine entity. Douma was a demon.

The dark encounter with the true face of Douma awakened a mixture of horror and a fascination that you could not understand within you. From that moment on, a kind of Incomprehensible bond between you and the Master of the Temple. He became aware of his presence, staring at him with intense eyes, revealing an enigmatic smile on pale lips. His voice, seductive and icy, echoed in the room:

"Oh... Y/n! I remember your face clearly, one of my most charming servants in the Temple..." A laugh escaped my lips. "I see you've discovered my secret... Don't look at me like that, even though your fearful eyes are magnificently beautiful. It's hard to believe I've shattered your innocence... How mean of me!"

His heart was racing, a combination of fear and overwhelming attraction was what propelled you into the room. The surroundings carried a dark presence as Douma's bloodied hands reached towards him. He personified sin itself, wrapped in hellish charm. You didn't understand why you were so attracted to him. This was so wrong, so scary. However, Douma seemed to revel in the confusion that stirred within the woman. He threw the legs of the woman he was devouring to the side as if they were insignificant, and made an inviting gesture for you to approach her, patting your thigh lightly indicating that you should sit there. You didn't fully understand when her legs started to move towards him, but before you knew it, you were sitting on her thigh.

Douma, with an intense gaze, ran his cold, bloodstained hand along her thighs, whispering tantalizingly in her ear, "Unexpected, isn't it? I didn't think you'd enjoy witnessing such a scene..." One smile formed on his lips as he approached you. You tried to articulate words, but your vocal chords seemed to fail. You were motionless, in shock. Douma laughed when he noticed his reaction. "Who knew you'd be such a helpful servant! You'll be in charge of cleaning all this up for me, right? It's nice to have someone who doesn't mind by my side!" Gently, he stroked her hair as if she were a child. It looked like Douma was enjoying the fact that you were attracted to something so grotesque and absurd. He enjoyed every moment of it. "You are so beautiful... A blessing in my eyes. Would you allow me to have fun with you?" His hands continued to caress her hair affectionately, until, suddenly, he abruptly pulled some locks, causing an expression of pain on her face. The sudden pull on his hair brought a mixture of pain and pleasure, awakening contradictory sensations within you. As his face expressed discomfort, Douma smirked, as if savoring his every reaction. He gently leaned against you, and licked your cheek.

Douma was humiliating the woman, using her as a mere object. This situation was suffocating. Feeling powerless in front of him caused overwhelming discomfort, and the fact that she was starting to enjoy feeling inferior to him aroused disgust in herself. However, how could you avoid it? His hair was pulled sharply, causing him not a moan of pleasure, but of pain. Douma's intention was really to hurt her. A shiver ran down his spine as he felt her tongue slide across the skin of his cheek.

"Today, you will serve me in a special way." Douma held the woman's waist and brought her legs together, accommodating her in his lap. She faced him. With just the flick of his index finger, through his pointed nails, the fabric covering her breasts was cut away, partially revealing her skin. Douma licked her collarbone and, without warning, nibbled the skin above her breasts with his sharp demon teeth. The woman twitched due to the terrible sensation of pain, but Douma held her firmly, licking the blood that oozed from the wound. "Be quiet, darling. It's not you who needs to be pleasured tonight, it's me. It would be a waste not to enjoy such incredible beauty as yours... I know you like that, don't you?"

"Master Douma..." The woman finally found the strength to say something, her voice trembling with pain, a typical human reaction. Tears flooded her eyes, unable to discern if it was due to the pain, the feeling of being humiliated without being able to do anything, or perhaps the terrible pleasure she didn't want to feel. "Y-You are a monster from hell... However, I would never deny you anything..." She knew that she had no choice but to accept her condition. Douma looked satisfied with her submission.

"I knew you'd be so obedient, Y/n! We'll have fun tonight... How about you cut yourself for me? I'd love that! But first, get down and lick my shoe. I want you to recognize your place, even though I know you're inferior to me. If I like you, I'd love for you to spend eternity with me. I could chain you too... You would look beautiful in chains for me. I could use thorns to bind you too, that's a good idea, seeing the thorns pierce your skin would be magnificent."

"Eternity with you…?" She asked as tears trickled down her skin. Douma removed her from his lap, making her kneel before him. Gripping her hair rather roughly, he was about to force her to bend over before answering.

"Eternity."

[crimsontroupe]

🕯️ dia and ellie, bonus round for his thoughts before he learned his dad's a loser @thronelessking

"A flash of blue. Cold eyes that pierces through your soul. Colder hands."

The dragon speaks to no one. The vast empty room, books about subjects both too easy and too complex for him. If his father bothered to listen in, he would. But he does not. After all, there is no value in listening to pointless conversation. One would need to be relevant first.

"A terrifying presence. Something stirring. Inside me, crying out. I do not get it. It warns of obvious danger. I know.

I know. I know. I saw him kill and dispose of people. They have no value to him. Nothing but magic and science does."

'Which is why you dedicate yourself so much to it', a nagging voice seems to say the obvious inside his head. 'You do not want to die', it continues. 'So you better be good at everything that makes you valuable.'

Otherwise he will dispose of you. Like the rest.

The second voice is unknown to him. The second voice is not heard. The second, third, fourth and fifth voice knows more than they should. So they do not speak to Dia, not directly. They act by moving his hand to the doorknob, an impulse to run. Impulse that is not followed, as the sorcerer stays firmly planted on the space he currently occupies. Stubborn fool.

"Wings that would eclipse and devour the mountains. Steps to follow. The starry sky blotted out by black ink. The triumphant way lightning roars. My goal." And just like that, these same voices plead for the doll to tear apart his books and run. He will find you anyway, they talk to each other. Bury you deep underground withtheotherswiththeotherswiththemforeverwiththem

Dia flinches, an intrusive memory making its way through him. A dark, humid cave. Mud, hands. Blood. Screams. He shakes his head, pushing these thoughts away.

"I have to study. My lessons start in less than half an hour. He will be expecting me."

Trial and error. One misstep and you will join us, and even if you are not aware of anything - your soul and body know - of the harm we are all complicit in. The tragedy of the tyrant and the bloodstained gemstone.

[freshmilko]

Southern "Russian" tea (hint it's not really Russian)

This is an old church community recipe that's way better than anything I can find online. It makes a really warming, delicious spicy citrus juice/tea. It's similar in soul to a spiced cider, but I think a million times tastier. And it's so easy, there's really no way to mess it up and everything is available at an average USAmerican grocery store.

It takes about 45 minutes, but most of that time you can leave it simmering. It's very low effort, you only need to stand for about 5 minutes in this process.

This makes a bit over a gallon, it fits in a large pitcher, or medium if you pour yourself a big mug fresh. Meant to be hot, but I find it's really refreshing cold too.

Saves for a little less than a week in the fridge before the taste goes off, but I'm pretty sure I've drank it past a week without issue 🤡

Ingredients:

1 quart water

4-8 cinnamon sticks (varies on size and how much you like cinnamon

1 teaspoon whole cloves

6-8 bags black tea (depends on size of tea bags, 6 for family size and 8 for single serving size

2/3 cup white sugar (you can add more up to a full cup if you want)

46oz can of pineapple juice(it's bigger than you think)

Frozen 12oz can of orange juice(or fresh, sizes of cans vary and it don't matter)

Steps:

1. Add water, cinnamon, and cloves to a pot and heat to a simmer. Let simmer for 30 minutes.

2. Remove from heat and add tea bags, let steep for 10 minutes.

3. Strain out solids, then pour in sugar and mix.

4. Mix in pineapple juice and orange juice and BOOM YOU'RE DONE

Common errors include oversteeping the tea, in that case just simply don't add all the tea concentrate to your mixture! You can remove half the concentrate, set it aside, then follow the rest of the recipe with the other half. Taste to see if it's strong enough, and add more until you find a nice balance that isn't bitter.

If you oversteep the cinnamon and cloves, it's just better so congratulations you accidentally leveled it up.

Chai tea bag + lil but of brown sugar + apple cider packet + 16 oz. mug of hot but not quite boiling water

it will not Fix You but like. maybe. maybe.

[yther]

lorelei.... if that was the name of the perp on some true crime episode, imagine the titles they could have pun with~

(I started with some disarming silliness to balance out the rest, which is a smidge macabre. I invite you to be entertained with abt 1/64th of what I have to say. to skip the forward, find line, word START)

tom brokibaawaaa: ...and she waited, and waited, and waited more. For her laurels were made....of Lies! Cursed to never rest, roaming the nightlands with an unquenchable thirst for cheap acrylic nails, mint tea and the shittiest reality tv shows ever made. Until one day, fate went back on its word, and elected one of the borrowed-to-abuse children to be honored as Executioner. For the sun was now setting across the Earth. Gaia, in her eternal wisdom, was willing to give herself to the rising Shadow Sun. Just like Jesus, not complicated.

To cleanse the cosmos of the darkest of all things... not dark energy or matter, or all those black holes, no! A singular, incredibly unfortunate error of a wholly void human, born in Iowa and appearing as intact but filled only with a vapid and vacuous Malice, distilled from the still unnamed antithesis of every goodness seen in man and known by man through the world he inhabits.

Method...! 🗡️ Fate didn't specify so apparently I get to choose. You can toss a suggestion if you wish.

Shall I write you a song worthy of your discerning taste?

Laura lies!

lorelei,

realize..

da moral of blue eyes -

sounds, clouds, homewrecker gold digger*

icon -ic, like the gaucho pants from Target you love, fearfully but admittedly moronic

*possibly fetishizes musicians, or there were coincidentally two guitar husbands in a row which isn't a lot but still weird

chronic hate would not abate,

> now I arrive, returning you - fateless

with the offering of [redacted]

START

to your credit, you have a remarkable hyena pseudopenis way of signing your various games of overlapping manipulations with... nothing but palpable lack of humanity and this

stench? almost

...like 100 babies rotted inside you

because the devil himself wouldn't condemn another soul to be birthed through you, or an angel of mercy could hear the screaming of the unborn life inside and took pity.

is that why you abandoned the real daughter, because the narcissism couldn't be content with this person you would merely own but never fully possess? because somehow she was just enough of you to project your reflection? and either evil recognizes other evil and it scared the shit out of you since, ofc you are a Lovecraftian entity in a class all your own, so the existence of a doppelganger wouldn't resolve itself..

or idk. did you just go full chimp and try to eat your own reflection. I am happy to imagine.

Half of everything you ever said was a contrived lie. purposeful deception for the thrill.

It's funny.

Remembering the first person to harm me, was you.

The person who was obsessed with me and playing games simply to sow fear or confusion. Either endlessly curious or simply a predator that is juuuuuust sophisticated enough to not impulsively satiate the instinctual desires. to savor the hunt, like an Orca, but only if that Orca was genetically fused with the worst anglerfish to ever angle for fish.

If muppets existed, they'd put whatever peels off your skull over fossilized dog shit and add you to the Fraggle Rock landscape as bait for seagulls so they'd have a way to encourage all the birds to shit in the same general area.

Bird shit is very hard to wash off a muppet. You could have half of a redemption arc, still. Well. No, not redemption. You did go after a married man with a lil baby (meeee!) who you selfishly bound to you with babies even though... well, it's an amalgamation of many tropes! a very real thing with pipers, prices of evil, baby snatchers making bargains and curses that exact blood for blood, like using blood magic might make your stillborn or deformed chicken creature made entirely of teeth and hair.

Did you ever try making a puppet out of the stuff? Or do your toys have to be able to scream and struggle to get any entertainment?

I can't see you having much fun with the putrid parts of a creature that would always come out dead and soulless. You're religious so I am confused how you missed such a clear message from god, that your body itself is so sick with hate, all life and innocence turns to ash and blood just from being in proximity to you.

It's strong stuff. Whatever gives you that stench that helped me find that keylogger, on the strange summer day---after a decade of restricting any contact with the outside world while I was there---you very eagerly insisted I email my mother.

... I forget. Was that before or after my mom caught a whiff just from you mouth breathing on the other line while eavesdropping on our call?

Definitely after some spicy drop offs that flirted with kidnapping.

I wonder if you were hunting or had a fortuitous encounter with me. Are you having urges to torment a new grandchild in your life or just a fan of your "Classic Hits" reel? Of all the children and people you sought control of, what was the best? Like did you get a massive high when you executed Gold Digger 66? It's impressive you managed to make into that man into a puppet. You were always the one who decided, commanded and then hid behind your pawns. Did you ever ask yourself why you feel most powerful as an observer. Set the trap but never present to commit to the acts yourself. Other than the acting roles where you got to have fun like the good old days. One predator, one man, one bar. Both married with kids, but I don't doubt how enticing it was to find a malleable host (with money ofc).

You've definitely retired from your adultery as a career gig, and I know you can probably afford it after you took that man for all he was worth and then some! Love how that 90k art degree that Gerry paid for never payed dividends. You should give the money back, because you think higher education is stupid anyway! Did you end up hanging around some flat earthers or moon-deniers during covid? Oh man, I really want to know how many tubes of horse paste you definitely choked down.

On that note! Any entertainment you favor these days?? Assuming your children could escape your grasp somewhat intact and Dilly isn't being turned into a ritual sacrificed to extend Cindy Lauper's life or a just one moose that is holding all that pottery barn furniture hostage. To get a power trip even half as nice as when you were killing the game... abandoning a minor, trying to frame your other ex husband for abuse. Libel about my family? Threatening a mother, saying she'll never see her baby again if we go to court. Blackmail. Stealing my regular mail. Gotta be having some type of withdrawal.

You like rat dogs. That says a lot, actually. Did you get more? Did you keep or eat the remains

Oh! A serious question for you now.. did you ever started a fair fight (aka no poisoning the other person before the fight, or taking a child hostage to create a MAD situation) with a human even half your size?? Maybe try that out. Go to Colfax and I'll find you.

I never said bye or got to say:

I like how the cowardice ultimately cannot be concealed as it is the center of your personal pathology. Target the most vulnerable, never the big fish. You don't like to change. Challenging marks require some flexibility.

You're still in Colorado, yeah. It's a good thing you wouldn't ever tuck tail and run to Turkey to live with your brother..Jim, right? How did Layla Rose turn out?

I'm dying to know, what's something you really crave these days? Or have you slowed down with age, happily subsisting on anonymous sadism online?

Or did you successfully train your apprentice aka a child destroyed and remade in your image? You manipulate as easily as your own appendages, it kinda impressive but not remarkable. Mothers and sons make great crime partners because of a fucked up mutual codependency.

I wonder if your legacy is somehow unfinished. As far as I know, you beat everyone. You took what you were after from soooo many people and you always had the leverage to keep them from hauling you to court.

Everyone... except me. Am I the one who got away?

I don't need to bait you. Isn't it funny? Decades of honed expertise in manipulation, deception and torture and yet.

My parents, flawed yes. You found the perfect pressure points on both.

I know my father feared you and was happy to be no longer responsible for anything. Easyyy mark. Children who are programmed to trust Nurturer, plus everything else about them is so easy to exploit. Taking candy from a baby doesn't actually get you street cred, if you were wondering.

My mother was disturbed by you, but not afraid. Afraid for me. But without dangling baby me over a bridge, you couldn't have ever touched her. She would have pushed you into a well. You can't double up on these curses btw, so no, you would not return to haunt those who wronged you along with a few collateral snacks. You are the murder mommy who used to push children into the well.

You'd just fall into a pit. Your neuroplasticity l basically gone by now. I wonder how long it would take for that insidious love of pain and humiliation to turn inward. I might give you water and one diet pepsi a day to find out if you would implode or explode. Would you eventually give into the urge to viciously consume, so that some part of your defective brain would turn on the ego you call "I", cannibalizing your own self if you are deprived of anything else to provoke or torment?

Literally or figuratively!

I'm just curious about how you work inside.

I am so very much alive and young. But I won't wait for my mother to get so sick that prison time would be irrelevant.

Unlike you, I participate. I don't cower. Thank you for letting me learn every weakness in my father before I could see a scary movie.

I learned from his mistakes which is good, since he didn't. Bless.

I learned from my mother's restraint that on principle, nuke it from orbit just to be safe. I don't care about collateral.

You will be dismissed via airlock if that's how you want it. I would seduce Elon Musk to destroy you.

You loved fables, too. Fascinating.

If you have a new husband or have chosen who will carry out your last wishes, etc I'd love contact info. I was thinking you should donate your body to science, and more specifically NASA, since you are such a huge fan of humanity and you see beyond your own interests and are invested in a prosperous future of humanity. And everyone will speak French, obviously.

I will fix up your legacy no matter what, tbh, do not sweat a thing. Might just be correcting your tombstone or giving a eulogy since you are destined to be dearly missed and many prominent figures will come to pay their... respects. I now can see how you heavily relate to jar jar binks, I'm sure you always meant well but were hindered by an innate ineptitude. Not force sensitive, but ofc, you can't always get what you want.

The world sure is something, isn't it? Imagine if I was your day nurse or caretaker someday! I imagine you with cloudy eyes in a wheelchair, unable to remove maggots from your diabetic leg ulcers.

Would you know me? How would call out to me for aid?

Gotta say, I am what you always feared but never faced. Call me Captain Braggart. Because I am that! More audacity, more emotional intelligence, more tenacity, more experience with abnormal psychology, and I've got wayyyyyyy time. As it stands, I'm not just unkillable by virtue of being alive, if I guesstimate the number of combined attempts you've made, and I've made, and the neighbors, etc etc. I wouldn't say it's a overstatement to call it miraculous, even.

I will be there when you start to forget the alphabet, I promise.

p.s I may or may not eat at least one of your surviving sons. I like to play it by ear.

They've got big ones so they'll hear me coming, chill.

[missingdragonflies]

BRAIN PACE 

Breaking News: Your mind and body don’t get along!

Is everything happening in your head so fast and so many times that the actions get compromised? You procrastinate? 

Your brain is constantly showing off to all your other limbs and organs how fast it is, that everything else gets disheartened. It’s time to show the show off who is boss. 

A theory: half of our issues (at least productivity issues) could be solved if we face and modulate our brain’s pace. 

For example, when we manage to get onto a project, and get into the mood to do it (it takes six months to a year to get here sometimes), our brain then gets into overdrive. You are knocking it out on the laptop, breaking it down in the shower, losing sleep or not sleeping and then some. It’s out of control and takes over. 

Then we slump. Procrastinate. The rest of the limbs and organs are out for revenge. What could you possibly do if we don’t move? We protest. Whenever we can.

The thoughts, ideas, all cascade downwards to die. You stop. Exhausted. You are paralysed. 

Of course you are. Your mind and body aren’t friends. They are competing and you side your mind in this squabble between your two children. 

I am proposing a sweet unison. Don’t mistake this for your brain’s dictatorship moments when you have achieved something. I am proposing a constant. Something perhaps athletes know about or have figured. I don’t know. 

Aren’t you tired of fluctuating between thinking about the next project to not doing anything about it. Just spurts of being on a high, intense productivity. 

We aren’t stupid. We know the excitement the action brings. We also know the snug pillow and a hot coffee in bed. How then, do we also know the feeling of mentally doing things and sometimes multiple times without moving a limb. Verbatim - we have had conversations with clients. Perhaps taking up more time compared to actually doing it. Visually - we can see the deck, the video, down to the track. We can hear it. All sorted out in our heads. And the mind keeps blaming the body. You do too. Lazy. Useless. 

I am saying, let’s try controlling the mind. While we task our bodies, we hardly ever task the mind. “Calm down” and “Stop thinking” is as good as saying, “Run,” “Jump.”

While you may be lazy, your mind is getting boisterous, threatening the rest of your body. You think a thought and then an essay, you journal it in your head. Words flow non-stop. You can’t always write it down. Your mind hisses, ‘if you don’t it’s gone. You useless shit. Don’t do anything. You will never be a writer.”

You don’t enjoy your lounging, you don’t write. 

Our mind will always work faster than the body. Sure. One sprints, the other marathons. The problem: our mind and body are out of sync. We mess up most conversations, make all these errors, skip words because our brain pace is getting ahead of us. Even now as I write, it is. Perhaps the brain is also out to throw some punches for the lack of action. 

In the end, the soul suffers. 

Here is how this might work; at least for productivity. The next time you are writing, reading, or talking to that vendor in your head, you pause and romanticise whatever it is you are doing. Lather, rinse, repeat. Music on the tube. Smell the air. And when that little birdie in your head pecks and tells you ‘the idea will disappear, the flow will go, you are so angry, this will be the end of your career,’ say I CONTROL YOU. Both of you. If I can make this body run, I can make this mind pause. 

I will face this track and jot things down when I am ready, so you better save it for that. Brew some more, keep it in a pressure cooker, and when I am ready for all the goodness, I will pop it open. 

Your thoughts, your ideas, your pace. You are in control. Remember, “not ready right now, in a minute.” No threats. No tantrums.  

I thought of the brain pace and aligning it to all my other organs while in the shower. The idea was in my head, while I could physically do nothing about it expect wear it out, over play it or rush my shower for fear of losing my journal entry for the day. 

None of that happened. 

I took a much longer shower. Didn’t think about it as much as I could. Distracted myself. More words flew out. 

Pace your mind. Rush your body. No favouritism. 

Regards,

Your Soul