#and every time i see one i have to sit here and think about it. like how did you arrive at that conclusion. what are you watching

[peachesofteal]

tw 18+ dubcon, breeding kink, brief daddy kink, baby trapping-ish - aka the whole purpose of the mating bond

Azriel who slips you a fertility tonic so he can give you a baby.

It starts as a fantasy.

He spends too much time watching you help with Nyx. Plays his dutiful uncle part, but all he's really focused on is how the baby sits so perfectly in your arms, how he's supported so easily by your hips.

How would you look, with his child cradled against your chest? How would you look, round with his baby?

It's maddening. Filling his dreams with ideas about a family of his own, a family with you. You who he loves beyond belief, you who he would die for, over and over again. You, who has become the reason he smiles, the reason he stands in the sun, the reason he looks forward to the future with hope, instead of looking back at the past with anger. You've changed him.

The bond isn't enough anymore, he craves it all. Needs to plant himself inside your womb until you're carrying a piece of him, but it likes that. It wants it, as much as he does, glows in his chest when he imagines it, purrs at the idea with satisfaction.

Mate. Mate. Mate.

His cock swells when he thinks about fucking you deep, spilling inside of you again and again until it takes, giving you a piece of himself. Drives him insane, thinking about breeding you, putting his baby inside of you. Turns him inside out.

The shadows don't help. They find the tonic in Dawn Court and pull the emerald green glass bottle from a shelf, depositing it in his office. Thick like syrup, blood red like a candy apple, but completely void of scent. Helpful.

"What do you think about having a baby?" He breathes into your neck one night, still arched overtop of you, lips dragging along your jaw. You giggle. He swears it's the sweetest sound.

"I don't know, kind of soon, don't you think?" A lock of his hair falls onto his forehead, and you twist your fingers in it. "I know Madja said there'd be nothing to worry about but still... we've only been mated a few years, right?" He nips at your skin, slides his nose along yours.

"Right."

What started as a fantasy evolves into a plan. Wicked, and wild, it's all consuming, a parasite in his blood slowly taking over his body until he's disease ridden, obsessed.

"More?" He's perched on a stool, knees spread to accommodate where you stand between his knees, looking up at him with a lazy smile. You've already finished your first glass, the glass, the one with the tonic, and he's pleased to see you drank every drop.

"One more, I think." He taps your chin, tucks his fingers beneath it and tilts your face towards his before pressing his mouth against yours in a long kiss. When you pull away, you have that look in your eye. "Want to go home early?"

Yes.

He's high. Wound up, crazed. You're laid out on the bed, lax on your side, reaching for him. "Come here," you whine, wiggling your fingers, and he grips them before rolling you onto your back and pinning that wrist above your head.

"I love you," he sucks a mark against your collarbone, traces and plucks your nipple, enjoying your pants, the restless jolt of your hips.

"Az," you huff, and he smiles into your skin.

"Impatient." He releases his hold, teases down your belly to where you're already wet for him, soaked, and slips through your folds to find your clit, swollen, and waiting. Wanting. "So wet," there’s nectar between your legs, and he’s thirsty for it. Not tonight. Your clit throbs under his touch, back arching, tits pressing into his chest, "you're dripping."

"Yeah, ah- please," you paw at his shoulders and he pushes you down, lays you flat before grabbing your knees and flexing them towards your chest, your thighs framing the prettiest pussy he's ever seen.

"Keep them there." He warns. Your fingers dig into your flesh, and he taps the head of his cock against your clit, enjoying the way your hole twitches. "Look at you," he's lost in it already, stroking himself, slowly fucking the tip in and out, muscles coiled, ready to strike. It's a drug. You're a drug. His elixir of life, his faerie wine. The high of battle, the satisfaction of success, of killing. He's drunk on you, every day.

"Azriel," you hiss. His girl never likes to be kept waiting. He grins-

and then slams home.

"Fuck!" you scream it, head thrown back, abandoning the hold on your legs to fist the sheets. He pulls your ankles tall, and leans forward. Your eyes are as big as the moon, mouth open wide, perfect. Ready. Ripe.

"I know, I know," he soothes you, kisses you, aware that the pressure of his body over yours only shoves his cock harder against your cervix, and you gasp, pussy fluttering, warm and wet, better than a dream. He finds your clit, his touch turning you languid, helping you adjust to each stroke, "does that feel good, love? Nice and deep?" He catches your lip between his teeth, and then rests his forehead against yours.

"More," You twist in his grip, trying to move, and he swats your ass.

"Be good for me." Be good, be good-

be good for daddy so he can give you a baby, be good so he can plug you up, make it take-

"Yes..." You moan and your pussy quivers, already trying to suck him deeper, trying to pull him in. Your body knows what it wants, the bond knows what it wants, even though your mind isn't there yet.

You writhe, shudder. You're going to come soon.

He slows down, drags his cock almost all the way out, enjoying the way you pout, brows furrowed, before sliding back in, again and again, long strokes that drive you crazy, still flicking your clit. "I love you so much, pretty girl, need to fill you up."

"Yeah, p-please." You're chasing your orgasm, tightening like a fucking vice, trying to strangle him, hold him in, and he closes his eyes, relishing it, wishing he could die in it.

"Come on my cock, sweetheart, let me feel you." Your breath hitches and he fucks you harder, slamming his hips against yours, shoving his cock so deep he wonders if it's in your belly, and your eyes roll back, legs locking into planks, orgasm rocketing through you so violently you cry out.

"Oh, fuck, oh fuck, ah-"

"There it is," there's no stopping now, fucking you through the gush, the clench, "That's it, come for me," he coos, innocent poison, "good girl, such a good girl." His own end is building, fire in his blood, raw power surging up through his wings as they snap wide, and your toes curl as you tremble, pussy still squeezing, pulsing around his cock. "Stay still for me, gonna give you my cum- fuck- fuck it nice and deep." You mewl, half delirious, and he steadies himself before plunging as far as he can, exploding, shattering, flooding you with it all, his hopes, his wickedness, his dreams. His vision goes white, a shock radiating up through his toes, entire body rigid, and locked in, your pussy drenched with him. The bond sings for the true fulfillment of its purpose, the creation of children. It all comes together, him, you, the stars, the darkness, to give him what he wants, what he craves-

his baby inside you.

He tucks his fingers into your pussy as you fall asleep, shushing you back under easily when you blink at him in a daze. "Again?"

"In a bit." He kisses your temple. "Close your eyes sweet girl, you'll need your strength."

[tbaluver]

Have you ever heard of the belief where beauty marks are where your previous lover liked to kiss you in a past life? Could I request headcanons for the LaDS boys reaction to MC mentioning it?

Kisses From The Past- The Love And DeepSpace Men

parings in order: Xavier x Reader, Zayne x Reader, Rafayel x Reader, Sylus x Reader genre/ tags: fluff fluff a/n: hihi my luv ! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ i apologize this took me SOO long !! this was such a cute req and it def had me looking for my beauty marks all over my body (ෆ˙ᵕ˙ෆ)♡ i hope this was alright and that you enjoy reading! (ෆ˙ᵕ˙ෆ)♡ any likes and reblogs are always appreciated! enjoy!

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Xavier:

You two were cuddling on the couch when you innocently mentioned it. He’d think for a while, his blue orbs staring right back at you softly. He’d reminisce all your past lives that he’s traveled too for you. A gentle smile would tug at his lips as he thinks about all the kisses he’s done and the beauty marks you would have all over your body.

“Yes. It’s true,” he murmurs, pressing soft kisses along your neck. His hands softly slip inside the hem of your shirt as he reminisces about the past.

He continues his kisses lower, softly pressing his lips to each of your beauty marks as if he’s connecting them while tracing the familiar path of your skin. Then he pulls back slightly, his eyes narrowing. “You’re missing one here..but you have one here..” he murmurs, “Was someone here before me?”

You would have marks all over your body all day long with Xavier completely unaware that he was the one who marked that spot in the past.

Zayne:

When Zayne comes home and pulls you closer, you can’t help but bring it up to Zayne. He would think about it for a moment and softly shake his head, denying it. But his stance would shift the moment he sees your smile quickly turn into a pout.

“Well that’s not possible because...” he trails off, noticing the way your lips drop into a subtle frown. “I don’t need a beauty mark to remember where I loved to touch and kiss you in another lifetime.”

Although Zayne might not fully believe in the concept of past lives, a part of him believes that if it were true, he would find you again in the next one. Those memories and familiar feelings would definitely resurface, like an instinct in his soul that guides him back to you no matter how many lifetimes have passed.

Rafayel:

You would bring it up while he’s examining your face, looking for inspiration for his sculpture. The moment those words leave your lips, his face automatically lights up

He absolutely LOVES the belief that your beauty mark is a place where your previous lover loved to kiss you in your past life. To him it means that you’ve always been connected even when life pulls you two apart again. You two were meant for each other in every life and he will always always find you in each time line.

Rafayel would definitely tease you about how you only have a few “beauty marks” and how he has a lot of them. “geez you must realllyy like kissing me here..and here huh cutie?” His past life couldn’t have possibly kissed you in a few spots. There’s no way you're missing some many areas so now it’s his current life’s duty to fill in those gaps.

He’ll always leave a lingering kiss on every place on every part of your body that he thinks needs to be “revisited”, making sure he’ll keep kissing that exact same area so in the next life he’ll remember this. “Looks like I've taken care of all the spots this time....but I think you need a couple more cutie.”

Sylus:

Sylus sits up, cleaning one of his vintage guns while you’re nestled between his legs. You’re scrolling through your phone when a post about beauty marks catches your eyes. Curiosity piqued as you crawl on top of him, innocently asking, “Do you believe that beauty marks are where your previous lover liked to kiss you?

He falls quiet for a moment, his finger gently guiding your chin so you meet his gaze. He studies your face before drifting down to your body with a mischievous smirk. “Looks like you’re missing a lot then sweetie.” He murmurs, his hands roaming over your body. “I guess I’ll have to kiss every single one again and maybe more, so you’ll remember me in the next life." He whispers softly, brushing a gentle kiss across your forehead, then your nose, before finally capturing your lips in a slow and tender kiss. He pulls back just slightly, his breath warm against your lips with a teasing smirk. “But where are mine sweetie?”

Each one lingers as he continues to trail lower and lower on every surface of your skin with the hope that will leave a mark to to carry in the next life.

[greengoblinswifey]

Game of Fate—Hwang In-ho/Front Man x Fem!Reader

summary— After discovering that you, a girl he had a one night stand with entered the deadly games, the Front man disguised as a player 001, infiltrates the games under the guise of monitoring Gi-hun but his focus becomes protecting you at all costs. based on this request.

warnings— none! fluff undertones, slight angst, season 2 spoilers, usual squid game chaos, in-ho being protective and possessive(he has a heart) <3

In-ho sat in his private quarters, the screens in front of him displaying the death and desperation of the games. His attention drifted from one player to the next until his eyes fell on you. A bolt of recognition shot through him. It was you, his one night stand from years ago, someone who had left a mark on him in ways he hadn’t expected.

He remembered every detail about you, your wit, your boldness, and the way you made him feel alive, even if just for one night. It infuriated him to see other players whispering in your ear or lingering too long in your space. His possessiveness surprised even him. You had been the best fuck he ever had, and seeing you here now stirred something he couldn’t ignore.

That’s when he made a decision.

By the time you met “Young-il,” the newest player in the games, you couldn’t place why he seemed familiar. His face was shadowed by the chaos of your surroundings, and you had no time to dwell on it.

“You,” he said, approaching you during a moment of uneasy rest.

Your eyes narrowed. “Do I know you?”

“You could say that,” have a sly smile, “Call me Young-il.”

You tilted your head, trying to recall where you might have met him. There was something about him, his confidence, his presence, that struck something. Still, you shrugged it off. “Okay, Young-il. Hope you know what you’re doing here.”

“I’m sure I’ll manage.”

You didn’t realize he was watching your every move.

During one of the more grueling games, you faltered. The sound of gunfire rang out as players dropped like flies, and your heart pounded. You’d made a critical mistake, one that should have cost you your life.

You braced yourself for the inevitable, but nothing happened. The guards moved past you, their guns silent. You stood frozen, confused, but grateful.

In-ho, hidden behind the mask of a player, allowed himself the briefest sigh of relief. His influence was subtle but effective, you were still alive, and he’d made sure of it.

Later, as the remaining players rested, he approached you again.

“You were lucky out there,” he said, sitting down next to you.

“Mhmm. Don’t know how I pulled that off,” you said as you glanced at him, still shaken from the day’s events.

“You’ve got more lives than a cat.”

“Or someone’s watching over me,” you joked.

He smiled faintly, hiding how true your words were.

As the games continued, his protectiveness grew. When another player made a sly comment about your appearance, he was quick to cut in.

“Keep your eyes on the prize,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

The player backed off, muttering under his breath, while you arched an eyebrow.

“You don’t need to fight my battles,” you said sassily.

“I wasn’t fighting,” he said as he leaned closer.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t hide the faint smile tugging at your lips.

In-ho found himself conflicted. He hadn’t planned to step into the games, let alone risk his identity. But seeing you here, vulnerable yet determined, pulled at something deep within him. And when you finally cornered him one night, your wary gaze demanding answers, he knew he couldn’t stay in the shadows forever.

“You’re not just another player, are you?” you asked, your voice steady but your eyes searching his.

He hesitated, then smiled. “What do you think?”

“I think you’ve got secrets. But shit, me too. Let’s survive this first.”

“Deal,” he said.

He couldn’t stop himself from watching you, protecting you, and falling deeper into the very thing he tried to avoid. The very thing he said he wasn’t there for. Wasn’t he there to target Gi-hun?

Young-il seamlessly integrated himself into the group with Gi-hun and the rest, his calm demeanor and quick thinking making him reliable. Despite his apparent calmness, his sharp gaze constantly flicked to you. He positioned himself strategically, always close enough to step in if anything went wrong.

Gi-hun often exchanged glances with Jung-bae, silently questioning why Young-il seemed more concerned about you than the games themselves. But they never voiced their suspicions, after all, his protectiveness benefited the group.

Young-il wasn’t subtle about his priorities. When Thanos, one of the annoying and aggressive players, approached you with a smirk and a comment about how “a pretty thing like you shouldn’t be here,” Young-il’s jaw tightened.

“Walk away,” he said, his voice cold.

“Relax, man. Just talking—” Thanos chuckled nervously.

“I said, walk away.”

Before Thanos could respond, Young-il took a step forward, fists clenched, his eyes dark. Thanos scrambled back, muttering curses under his breath.

You crossed your arms and shot him a look. “I didn’t need you to step in. I could’ve handled that.”

“I wasn’t going to let him near you.”

When the lights went out, the dormitory turned into chaos. You barely managed to sleep, anxiety gnawing at you. But Young-il stayed awake, his body perched against the wall near your makeshift bed. His eyes, though heavy with exhaustion, remained trained on the room, scanning for any sign of danger.

At one point, you stirred, catching his silhouette in the dim light. “You’re not sleeping?”

“Not tired,” he lied, his voice soft.

“You should rest. I’m fine.”

“I’ll rest when this is over. Someone has to make sure you’re safe,” he said as he shook his head.

His words lingered in the air, and you turned away, confused by his constant concern.

When food rations arrived, Young-il always ensured you had enough, sometimes splitting his share without you noticing. If you hesitated to eat, he nudged the portion toward you.

“Eat,” he insisted once, placing his biscuit in your hand.

“I’m not a damsel in distress,” you said. “I don’t need you to babysit me.”

“I’m not babysitting,” he replied. “I’m keeping you alive.”

In the third game, players had to quickly form groups based on the number the organizers called, and with each failed attempt, the penalty was being shot to death. Fear ran high, and each moment felt like it could be your last.

You were with Young-il, trying to keep calm as the guards shouted the numbers. The merry go round platform spun as everyone scrambled to form groups and find a room, but it quickly turned chaotic. Someone tried to push past you, their eyes wild with desperation, and before you could react, Young-il was already stepping in.

His face was hard, his eyes cold as he grabbed the man by the collar, dragging him to the back of the room. The man’s protests were cut short as Young-il raised his hands and broke his neck, ending his life. The room fell silent for a moment before the countdown ended.

You froze, shock creeping into your body as you realized what had just happened. You hadn’t expected him to kill so easily, even after all the brutality you’d witnessed in the games. His gaze softened when he turned to you, seeing the fear in your eyes. He stepped closer, his hand resting on your shoulder.

“I know this is hard,” he whispered, his voice gentle compared to the violence he had just shown. “But you need to understand, this place doesn’t have mercy.” He looked down at you, his hand reaching up to cup your face, brushing away the few tears that had fallen. “It’s gonna be okay, I’m here.”

You nodded, feeling the weight of his words as he pulled you into his chest. The harsh reality of the games had taken root in you, but with him, you knew, even if just for a minute, you wouldn’t have to do it alone. His feelings for you were clear, he wanted you to survive, to make it out of this, and he was determined to ensure that you would.

During the dark night when the O Team launched their attack, chaos erupted. Players were dragged from their beds, screams echoing through the dormitory. When someone lunged toward you with a fork, Young-il stopped them in an instant, knocking them to the ground with a brutality that left you stunned.

He positioned himself between you and the attackers, his stance firm. “Stay behind me,” he barked, his tone leaving no room for argument.

“I can fight!” you shouted back, trying to step forward.

“Not tonight,” he said, shoving you back gently but firmly. “You’re staying behind me. That’s final.”

Despite your protests, he shielded you with everything he had, fighting off anyone who dared come near.

When the group decided to attack the guards and confront the ‘Front Man’, Young-il hesitated. His gaze flickered between you and Gi-hun, his usual resolve wavering.

“You’ll be okay,” he said finally, pressing a gun into your hand.

“I don’t even know how to use this,” you said, eyes widened.

“You don’t need to. Just point and shoot if you have to,” he said. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

You stared at him, your chest tightening. “Why are you doing all this?”

“Because you’re mine,” he said quietly, his words slipping out before he could stop them.

Your breath hitched, but before you could respond, he turned to follow Gi-hun. Over his shoulder, he added, “You’ll be okay. I’ll make sure of it.”

And with that, he was gone, leaving you with more questions than answers and a determination to survive—not just for yourself, but for the man who had somehow made you his priority in this death game.

[alexi-was-not-here]

Hey everyone... I saw the other reblogs and the were beautiful and I love them and you should go show them love and support BUT this story has been floating in my head and I would like to write my version {which will be extremely similar to the others BUT I love Janus and would like him to not be the bad guy... so think of this of an au of this hc I guess}

-----

Thomas had just woken up, which meant it was time for Virgil to go help Thomas make it through the day. Virgil left his room and began to make his way downstairs when all of a sudden he heard a yell, he turned towards the noise and saw a shocked formal looking side.

"Uh h-" Virgil went to greet him before he was cut off by a different voice

"Who. Are. You?" Said a side who looked like they were closet cosplaying every Disney prince combined, who was dawning a samurai sword strangely enough.

"I- I'm anxiety" Virgil responded nervously

"Why the hell are you here, Thomas doesn't need you, no one does" Virgil felt taken aback, he's a bit nervous to talk back considering the sword, but he's supposed to be there just as much as the rest of them, right?

"I- b-but-" Virgil is trying to get a sentence out but his mind is racing and his throat is starting to close.

"But what? Spit it out or," The "prince" 's grip tightens on the sword he's holding, though he stands his ground infront of two other sides, the one with a cardigan around his neck grips Roman's jacket, "get lost."

Virgil tried to get any words out of throat but instead all he got was his own racing thoughts and stinging behind his eyes. He walks back up the stairs and hears the other sides breathe a breath of relief and return to their happy banter they were having before he walked in. Virgil collapsed on his bed and finally he let muffled sobs escape his chest. He wasn't trying to scare anyone, he just- he was helpful right? Maybe he wasn't helpful after all, just like he had feared. Maybe he truly was there to cause distress. He fell asleep crying.

---

Time and time again he tried going downstairs but he would go back up to his room after being berated by the Prince guy, or freaking out the light blue side, or getting nervous and watchful glares from the formal side. He eventually stopped trying to help the three of them as he mostly seemed to be an annoyance, and favoring staying in his room instead and allowing his thoughts to consume him.

The only time he was able to not be a nuisance to the other sides was at night when Thomas was about to fall asleep, it was the only time he was able to talk to him. Though, he did occasionally get thrown out when Princey couldn't sleep either.

One thing Virgil enjoyed doing though, was sitting at the top of the stairs and eavesdrop on athe three other side who he found out were Morality, Logic, and Creativity. He enjoyed listening to them talk, and pretending that they talked to him too.

---

One day when Virgil was listening to Logic explain something he found intresting he was pulled out his thoughts by an unfamiliar voice.

"Hey, you seem cool. You wanna come hang out with us?" Virgil turned to see a side dressed similarly to Creativity except he seems to like black and green, bent over towards Virgil {a little too close} with a wide grin on his face.

"U-us?" Virgil asked confused considering he only saw green creativity{?}.

"Hello" Virgil heard a voice from the shadows {Totally not creepy} and a yellow gloved hand wave to him.

"Oh oh by the way, I'm creativity" Also Creativity said as he stood up straight and extended his hand to Virgil. "So what do you say wanna come with us?" Virgil glanced down at Logic remembering how apprehensive he was around him, at Morality who was so scared he would hide behind Princey and hold his jacket, and finally at Princey who when they first met had told him "Thomas doesn't need you, no one does" and those words still haunted him everytime he closed his eyes.

And then he looked at Creativity who said he was cool and seem eager to get to know him, and the not-at-all-creepy shadow figure in the hallway who smiled at him too, and he took Creativity's hand.

"I'm anxiety"

"Ooooo, well anxiety do you like Dance Dance Revolution?"

-------

It had been several months since Virgil decided to follow Creativity into their hangout. He learned that this Creativity's name is Remus and is essentially thoughts doesn't want to have, and while he never learned the other sides name, he did tell Virgil he has the role of Deceit though.

Living with them especially Remus had been... stressful to say the least but it was also the first time he felt wanted and, Deceit had even told him how cool it was he was anxiety and that Thomas is lucky to have him.

Unfortunately though despite all this he wanted so desperately to go back to the other sides. He was tired of being ignored and thanks to his time with "The Dark Sides" {it's what Remus called them} he had learned not to take crap. And it was time that Thomas finally heard him.

So, he went back to his room upstairs away from Deceit and Remus in the middle of the night, knowing he'd be able to talk to Thomas unbothered.

And he went downstairs in the morning, and didn't leave even after the groans or fears exclamations, and Princey didn't seem to be as eager with his sword so he stuck around. And FINALLY the sides would listen to him, even if they didn't particularly always like what he was saying.

--

Thanks for reading everyone!! I will make a part two if there is demand for it but I think I closed it up pretty okay :}

Angst idea

During Thomas’ preteen years everytime Virgil got near Patton or Logan, Roman would stand between them and draw his sword. They were a lot younger then and they didn’t understand each other like they do now. Anxiety scared them all even though he was just trying to help in his own way, partially because of the way he went about it, partially cause no one wants to be anxious and they were kids.

Logan would always tell Roman he was being excessive but he would screech Roman’s name if Anxiety was there and Roman wasn’t.

Patton always told Roman not to be mean when he started insulting Anxiety, but he did cower behind the creative side while he did it.

Virgil would put on a tough guy act “You think I’m scared of a sword Princey?” and he was, but more than that it hurt to watch the rest of Thomas hating him so much.

[ka1rin]

Blue Lock Romantic Tropes

isagi, kaiser, sae, rin, reo, nagi x reader (separate)

word count: 1.1k , genre: romance / fluff

note: this story is about what romantic trope would suit these Blue Lock characters. I hope you guys love this!

Isagi Yoichi — Childhood Friends

Yoichi Isagi had always been head over heels for her—though he didn’t realize it until it was almost too late. She’d been his best friend for as long as he could remember. She was the one who stayed after practice to kick a ball around when no one else would, the one who always seemed to know exactly what to say after a tough game.

But lately, everything felt different. He couldn’t stop noticing the way her hair caught the sunlight or the way her laughter softened the edges of a bad day. He wasn’t sure when it started, but he knew one thing for certain: she wasn’t just his best friend anymore.

They walked home together like always, her voice filling the air with stories about her day. Isagi barely heard a word. His mind was somewhere else, lost in thoughts he didn’t have the courage to say out loud.

When they reached her street, she stopped and turned to face him. “You’re quieter than usual. What’s up?”

He hesitated, his fingers tightening around the strap of his bag. “Do you ever think about the future?”

Her brow furrowed. “Sure. Why?”

“I mean… us,” he said softly, forcing himself to meet her gaze. “Do you ever think about where we’ll end up?”

Her eyes widened slightly, and for a moment, the world seemed to hold its breath. “What are you trying to say, Yoichi?”

“I think—no, I know—I want you in my future,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “Not just as my best friend, but as… something more.”

Michael Kaiser — Enemies to Lovers

Michael Kaiser had never believed in losing. In his mind, every match, every argument, every moment in life was a game to be won. That’s why she infuriated him so much. She wasn’t interested in playing by his rules.

From the moment they met, she challenged him—both on and off the field. She had a knack for seeing through his façade, stripping away the charm he used so effortlessly on everyone else. At first, he hated it. Then he couldn’t stop thinking about it.

One evening, after yet another clash on the pitch, he found her sitting alone in the stands. The moonlight caught the curve of her profile, making her look softer than he was used to seeing.

“You’re staring,” she said without looking up.

“Maybe I’m trying to figure you out,” he replied, sliding onto the bench beside her.

“You won’t,” she said, finally meeting his gaze. “You’re not as good at reading people as you think.”

Kaiser smirked, leaning back on his elbows. “And you’re not as immune to me as you pretend to be.”

Her lips twitched, but she said nothing.

For the first time, Kaiser felt like this wasn’t a game he could win—or one he wanted to.

Sae Itoshi — Second Chance

Sae Itoshi had always been good at letting go. Whether it was friends, family, or teammates, he had a way of detaching himself from people, of moving forward without looking back.

But she was different.

She’d been his calm in the storm, the person who grounded him when the pressure of his career threatened to swallow him whole. He hadn’t realized how much he relied on her until the day he walked away, convincing himself it was for the best.

Now, years later, she stood before him at the airport, looking as composed as ever. His pulse quickened at the sight of her, and for the first time in a long while, Sae felt unsure of himself.

“You’ve changed,” she said softly, studying him like she was trying to figure out a puzzle.

“Not enough,” he admitted, his voice steady but quiet.

Her lips pressed into a thin line, and she glanced away. “Then why are you here?”

“Because I couldn’t stay away,” he confessed. “Because letting you go was the biggest mistake I ever made.”

Rin Itoshi — Sun and Moon

Rin Itoshi didn’t believe in distractions. He’d built his life around focus and discipline, shutting out anything that might interfere with his pursuit of perfection.

Then she came along.

She was everything he wasn’t—bright, cheerful, and completely unafraid to push her way into his life. At first, Rin had found her presence irritating, but over time, he started to notice the small things: the way she always brought him water during practice, the way her laughter filled the empty spaces of his world.

One afternoon, as they sat in the park, she turned to him with a mischievous grin. “You should smile more, you know. It’s not illegal.”

He frowned, looking away. “Why does it matter?”

“Because it suits you,” she said simply, leaning back against the bench.

Rin’s chest tightened at her words. He didn’t know how to explain that smiling felt foreign to him—except when she was around.

Reo Mikage — Unrequited Love

Reo Mikage had always been drawn to her. She was different from everyone else in his life, uninterested in his money or his status. She treated him like an equal, never hesitating to call him out when he deserved it.

He’d fallen for her quietly, keeping his feelings to himself out of fear that she’d never see him the way he saw her. Still, he stayed by her side, always there when she needed him, hoping one day she might look at him differently.

One evening, as they sat together in a quiet café, she broke the silence. “Reo, why are you always here for me?”

He blinked, caught off guard. “What do you mean?”

“I mean… you’ve never asked for anything in return,” she said, her voice softer than usual. “Why?”

Reo hesitated, his heart pounding. “Because you’re important to me. That’s all.”

Her gaze lingered on him, and for the first time, he thought he saw something shift in her eyes.

Nagi Seishiro — Forced Proximity

Seishiro Nagi didn’t like effort. He preferred simplicity, staying in his comfort zone, and avoiding anything that felt like too much work.

So when she moved into his apartment as his new roommate, he wasn’t thrilled. She was loud, messy, and always finding ways to drag him into her whirlwind of energy. At first, he counted the days until she’d leave. But as time passed, he started to notice the way her laughter brightened the dull moments, the way she always made sure he had dinner even if she didn’t cook for herself.

One night, as they sat on the floor eating instant ramen, she looked over at him and smiled. “You’re not so bad to live with, you know.”

Nagi shrugged, his usual indifference masking the warmth spreading through his chest. “You’re okay too, I guess.”

She laughed, nudging his shoulder. “Wow, such high praise.”

He glanced at her, his voice softer than usual. “I mean it. I don’t mind you being here.”

Her laughter faded, and she looked at him with an expression he couldn’t quite place. “Good. Because I’m not going anywhere.”

For the first time, Nagi felt like that was exactly what he wanted to hear.

[earthtooz]

lighter x gn!mechanic!reader, 1k wc lighter is down bad for reader. like. DOWN BAD, lots of cute banter, pining from both.

Whenever you visit Blazewood, the Sons of Calydon mark it as a significant day in their metaphorical calender.

You’re their precious mechanic, the one who ensures all of their bikes and engines are running smooth for any operations (read: trouble) they get themselves into. Having been long-term friends with Caesar, you make the effort of travelling from Sixth Street to the outskirts of New Eridu every few weeks. Granted, for how many times you’ve travelled between the two places, you’ve grown rather close to the tight-knit biker gang, so it's an exciting time for all.

However, the reason it’s marked down is because they know it’s a special occasion where they can all tease a certain, aloof boxer a bit more than usual.

“Y/n!” Burnice’s voice cuts through the bustling atmosphere of Cheesetopia, capturing everyone’s attention as you walk through the door of the diner.

They all wave you over the booth they sat in, Burnice and Luci shuffling over so you can sit down with them. You don’t see the way Caesar nudges Lighter as you settle down opposite him. 

“How was your trip?” Caesar asks. 

“Good, a little tired though,” your yawn is perfectly timed. “My limbs still feel stiff.” 

“Oh no! Do you need a little rest?”

“No need, I wanna get started working as soon as possible, I'm itching to tinker some engines."

The dark-haired across from you chuckles, adjusting his sunglasses to sit higher on his nose bridge. “There’s the Y/n we all know. If you need a little help, let me know, I’m happy to lend a hand.” 

The group giggles between themselves.

“Thanks, Lighter!” 

The giggles intensify when Lighter’s ears flush red at the tips. 

This is why your visits are a marked occurrence: because the rare blush and nervous appearance that overtakes his normally cool and collected character is incredibly entertaining, and watching him bumbling about around you is a hard opportunity to come by. All Lighter can do is admit defeat and be susceptible to all the teasing that’s sent his way, because he might as well accept it.

He’ll turn a blind eye to the blonde heads popping around the garage every so often as he helps you out in the garage as long as it means they leave the both of you alone. He’ll ignore the giggles of the girls as they listen in on the quiet conversation exchanged between you both in the dim lighting of the dreary space.

“Any biker gang fights happen recently?” You ask whilst observing the rear wheel.

“Nah,” Lighter grunts, “just a few challenges here and there.”

You extend your hand out to him. “Spanner, please.” He places the tool comfortably in your hands and you resume working. “A few challenges? Did you win?”

“‘course. Wouldn’t be a good champion if I lost.”

“Sounds easy in theory,” you murmur, peeking around the bike. “I bet you don’t even know the names of the gangs you won against.”

His silence is the only answer you need and you sneak a smug glance at him. You look away before you could notice the red blush creeping up his neck. “So what if I don’t? I won against them, ain’t that all that matters?”

“Sure. Guess your memory gets knocked out of you after a couple fights.” You giggle at your own joke.

“C'mon, quit teasin’ me.”

“Sorry, just can’t help it when it took you almost five months to remember my name.” It’s light-hearted, he can hear the smile in your voice. 

“Gosh, you just don’t know how to let things go,” he counters, a smile of his own developing.

“Nah, it’s just fun to tease you.” Then, you stand up with a grunt, looking at your handiwork closely one last time before making your way to your workbench. “Besides, it’s not everyday I get to interact with a cool guy like you.”

Lighter’s heart skips a beat in his chest before jumping against his ribcage. “You think I’m cool?”

“Doesn’t everyone?” You ask. “You’re the cool guy who cares about everyone, and that’s a good thing. I like that about you.”

Oh, you’re gonna kill him. He’s not gonna make it out of the garage if you continue this onslaught of compliments. He doesn’t really want you to stop either, wants you to say something that really shows how you feel about him, like how you think he’s handsome, or that he’s admirable, or better yet, that you like him as well.

‘I like that about you’, ‘I like … you’, yeah. That’s also good enough for now. 

Instead, you fall silent as you rearrange all your tools, locking the box that cuts through the tense atmosphere with a ‘click’. 

“Well, I’m beat,” you huff, stretching your arms over your head, “my back hurts and I’m hungry.” 

“You’ve been working real hard, let me treat you to dinner.”

“Really?” 

“Really.” 

A few minutes later, you end up at the Fuel Truck, enjoying some food together and continuing your conversation in the cool, breezy night of Blazewood. It’s easy being with you, effortless, doesn’t really burn through his energy like some other social interactions do, and Lighter can’t help but feel like this is how it’s meant to be. Sharing stories, talking about the important and mundane alike, he doesn’t know when you became more than the cute mechanic Caesar was good friends with, but he’s glad he finally got your name down on the sixth time of trying. 

He tucks a strand of stray hair away from your face before you can get it in your mouth, and the grin you give him almost paralyses him. 

Plates are emptied, drinks finished, and dessert is done, but you’re still talking into the late of the night, until the employees need to wipe down the bar and call it a day. All good things come to an end, and Lighter wishes you could stay with the Sons of Calydon for longer than just a few days, but you have your own business in Sixth Street, so he monopolises your time whenever he can.

Which is how he ends up walking you to your motel, letting the long day draw to a close.

“Thank you for dinner, Lighter, today was fun.”

He chuckles, the sound deep and full. “No problem, it’s my pleasure.”

“Come back tomorrow, yeah? Swing by the garage anytime you want.”

“Anytime?” The biker rubs his chin. “Careful with your generosity, I might end up annoying you.”

“I doubt it.”

“And if I overstay my welcome?” 

“Then apologise by keeping me company.”

You shoot him a wink before going up the stairs of the motel, quickly disappearing from his sight as he laughs to no one in particular. He lightly punches his chest, as if trying to tell his hammering heart to calm down. 

Yeah. You really are trying to kill him. 

© EARTHTOOZ 2025, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.

[loves-alibi]

changes

or: you married a butcher, not a martyr.

MDNI simon "ghost" riley x f!reader word count: 2.7k warnings: mentions of sex, mentions of torture, reader is hashtag depressed, mentions of death (assumed death), simon is a weirdo at the end <3

*****

He’s a butcher, an apprentice actually. Every Monday through Saturday, regulars flock to the shop, where Simon, the gentle giant behind the counter, takes their order with a smile. Kids love him, always excited to see the man who tells droll jokes when their mothers, who are more interested in the way he winks at them after throwing in an extra quarter of a pound of meat, aren’t listening.

Simon is the talk of the block. Every nosy soul wants to know his deal. It’s not like he came out of nowhere. Simon was born and raised on the streets of Manchester, but there’s an intrigue about the young man that was never tapped into until he took up working at that shop, chopping and slicing up people’s dinners while asking 'how's the family?’.

So it’s no surprise when one day an old lady, a regular at the establishment, asks Simon, elbow-deep in raw lamb, if he’s single.

After breaking the news that he wouldn’t like to make a habit of dating customers, she explains that her granddaughter (“She’s about your age and– you’ll see –she’s the prettiest girl in all of England.”) is in town.

Before he even thinks, the woman scribbles on her receipt for three lamb chops an address and 8pm.

Eight hours later he stands outside of her house, a bouquet of flowers in hand and the receipt folded neatly in his back pocket. Before he has the chance to ring the bell, the door flies open, bombarding Simon with the scent of roasting meat and floral perfume. Standing barely at his chest height is the woman from the shop. She calls a name, and round the corner comes her granddaughter.

Simon almost drops the bouquet in his hands. Your grandmother really didn’t lie about how lovely you are. Even as you abscond her (“You didn’t tell me he was actually coming tonight!”) Simon can’t stop staring at you.

Dinner goes by as awkwardly as you could have expected. Your grandmother sits at the head of the table, you and Simon at opposite sides, kicking each other awkwardly each time either of you crossed or uncrossed your legs. She prompts you two with conversation starters.

Darling, tell him about your job.

Simon, I hear you have a brother.

It’s like pulling teeth. The whole night Simon is kicking himself for not meeting you elsewhere, where he could make a real and good impression without watching eyes. It’s over, he thinks when you finally pull the plug on the evening, dismissing Simon with the excuse that you have to work early the next morning. It’s a shame, he really thought that, despite everything, you two had a connection. There were enough fleeting glances and shy smiles from you for Simon to really believe.

You at least have the decency to walk him to the door, thanking him for entertaining your grandmother and for being such polite company. And, with a glance over your shoulder confirming that the coast is clear, you pull Simon in by the lapels for a kiss, it’s chaste and quick, but has Simon’s chest heaving up and down.

“There’s a pub down the street, you know it?” You ask. Simon nods his head dumbly, his lips still tingling. “She goes to sleep early. Meet me there in an hour, yeah?”

He practically skips to the pub. He orders two pints and waits and why did he order you a pint? It'll be warm by the time you get here and he doesn’t even know if you like beer. This was such a bad idea, you’re probably not even going to–

Fifty-two minutes later you walk through the door, chest heaving and hair tousled. You ran. You really ran to see him.

As you down your pint, he sends a silent thank you to whoever answered his prayers because– wow –you’re here and even more beautiful than he could imagine, with a bead of beer slipping out of the corner of your mouth and dripping down your neck.

The next morning, you two wake up naked in Simon’s bed with headaches and a ring on your finger– his nan’s ring to be precise, the one she explicitly told him to give only to the girl. There’s a voice in the back of his head that says he should be mad to have given it away in a drunken stupor to some girl he just met. But then you laugh, saying, “I’m engaged.” And he laughs with you, a sinking feeling telling him that drunk Simon may have gotten it right.

Simon watches you observe the ring glitter in the morning sun. “Do you want to be?”

You scrunch your nose at the question. “Depends,” you say, dragging out the final ‘s’. Simon blanches. “What’s your last name?” You ask, scrutinizing him.

Simon loses his breath as he stares into your eyes. You’re laying naked, halfway on top of him, and yet it’s the way you look at him that makes his world tilt. He barely manages to stutter out, “R–Riley. Simon Riley.”

“Riley… Mrs. Riley.” Your features soften. “Yeah, I think I want to be.”

In three months, you’re married. It’s a real, proper wedding with both sides of the family there. Simon washes the sinew and blood from his hands and gets all dressed up. He’d pick his bloody apron over a suit any day, but the smile on your face when you see him down the aisle is enough to make getting all dolled up worth it.

Your grandmother dies a happy woman shortly after your wedding. She leaves you the house and well wishes for your future (and with the request to name her future great-grandchildren after her).

Marriage suits Simon. He leaves you for work each morning before the sun is up. You wake hours later to a cold bed yet a warm cup of coffee in the kitchen. He comes home at five o’clock on the dot with a pound of meat cut and ready to cook, which he does. It fills some caveman-basal part of him– the ability to provide for his wife, melting away his worries every time you sigh in delight at the taste of the meal he oh so lovingly set out for you.

Three days after your first anniversary, Simon comes home with a pamphlet. Her Royal Majesty's Armed Service. You laugh, tell him there’s no way he wants to enlist. He almost believes you, sounding so sure in your words. Maybe he is being ridiculous, but then he turns on the news and sees the chaos of the world and realizes that chopping meat wasn’t all he was meant for.

He sits you down again. This time you don’t laugh.

“You will not make me a widow, you understand?”

“Of course not.”

“Promise?”

“I promise, love.”

He enlists, joins the infantry, and you wonder if you made a mistake marrying that man. Then 30 weeks later, he comes back and you almost forget the heartache until he’s standing right in front of you, this time without a pound of meat and the smell of blood clinging to his skin.

He fucks you. You fuck him. It’s only natural after so long. He’s missed you. You’ve missed him. And you have plenty of frustration to get out.

It’s when you’re laying in bed, fingers trailing his abs– yes, abs, born out of the weeks of grueling work– that it strikes you how much this means for you. You squeeze what used to be the loving layer of pudge that circled his waist.

“You like it?” he asks, his smirk pressing against your head.

But the energy to lie doesn’t exist in you. You tell him no, that you miss the Simon that walked out of your door thirty weeks ago, that– sure –abs are nice but you liked the Simon with a little fat, that you didn’t want him to do this, that you didn’t want to have to waste away, alone and worrying about him.

Yelling ensues. You cry. Simon cries. You sleep in the guest room. Simon sleeps on the couch.

He’s a good soldier, you learn. Not from him of course, Simon’s too humble to brag about his achievements like that (plus, he’s afraid that his growing accolades would just remind you how you never wanted to marry a decorated soldier, you wanted to marry him). You always come to base to pick him up from deployments. Soldiers give you respectful nods and tell you how good of a sergeant your husband is.

You and Simon had a distinct separation between work and life. As soon as your car is through the base gates, not a word is spoken of his deployments. It always gets you in too much of a fit. So it was agreed upon: you didn’t have to hear about it.

Until one day, work shows up to your front door step. Simon’s on a deployment, and you’re finally unwinding after a long day of your own. As you begin to pour a glass of wine, there’s a clinical knock on the door.

Two men in uniform are on your porch. They hold their hats in their hands, as with solemn voices they try to explain it all to you. It’s strange– you don’t cry. They ask if you need anything and you simply say no. After all, what could they give you– Simon? You have a chuckle at that after you finally send the soldiers off.

You continue your normal routine: finish that second glass of wine, tidy up the house, and cook dinner. You burn your thumb on the cast iron pot. With your finger in your mouth to soothe the burn, you think to dial your grandmother’s number. If anybody needs to know about Simon, it’s her. Except, when you dial her number all you get is a robotic voice explaining that the number you are trying to reach is not available.

Oh, you realize, that’s right– nan’s dead!

You lose it on the kitchen floor. Your sobs are so loud, the neighbors come to check on you. They find you right there on the kitchen floor, dinner burning on the stove, and paperwork from the army on the counter.

People treat you like a widow after that. You don’t consider yourself one. It just doesn’t feel right. He left without a goodbye, and now you’re supposed to accept that he’s gone?

You’re a celebrity around town– poor Simon’s widow. You quit your job, the widow’s pension being enough to get you by for now. Simon’s old boss starts giving you cuts for free– not even the shitty ones. You get filet mignons from him, aged wines from neighbors, extra pastries from the bakery, and pitying stares from strangers.

In three years you went from a complete stranger to Simon Riley’s widow. Three years and that man tore your life apart. The six month mark is approaching. It’s funny, really. That’s twice the time it took for you two to get hitched.

There isn’t even a body to bury, only a plain gravestone with his name and dates. You don’t visit it. There’s no point. What’s there to mourn? Instead you dig a hole in your back garden. It isn’t very deep, and the garden’s long dead. You don’t dare touch the shovel, it had been Simon’s– used when you needed a hole dug for flowers or bushes. Instead the hole is dug with your bare hands, like a dog searching for something.

In the pathetic pit in that dead garden, you put your ring– the one Simon gave you, that his nan gave him –wrapped in his apron.

The backyard burial doesn’t make you feel better. It just puts dirt under your nails that won’t wash away no matter how hard you scrub at it.

You consider selling the house. That leads to another breakdown. You were supposed to raise your kids there– Simon’s kids. Nan wanted you and Simon to have that house. Now nan’s gone. Simon’s gone. But for some reason you’re left to wander the ruins.

Six months finally comes. People stopped giving you free shit by month three. It’s not like you ever wanted their gifts. It’d come to you with a smile and some bullshit about how we get it or we’re here for you. You laugh at the notion when you wake up on the six month anniversary of your fucking husband’s death alone and…

It’s not the anniversary. Not the real one, at least. It’s only been six months since those men showed up at your door, like the grim reaper dressed up for Queen Elizabeth. He had to have died some time before then.

You don’t even know when your husband died.

It has to be on the paperwork they gave you. Six months after however many days since your husband’s death, you tear apart your house. Every drawer is pulled out, every cabinet yanked open in the hopes that you can find the paperwork that has Simon RIley’s death date.

Not on the pension form.

Not on the letter from the crown.

Not on the invitation to the fucking widow’s club.

When the hell did he die?

You fall asleep in the wee hours of the morning, surrounded by every piece of paperwork you could locate. It’s still dark when you wake up, mind clouded with exhaustion. You almost fall back asleep right there on the floor, but when you let your head fall back down on the hardwood, you feel rhythmic vibrations travel through the wood to your cheek. Footsteps.

“Love?”

Only one man has ever called you that.

It’s like you lose the ability to speak. Any thought you could have dies on your tongue as two familiar arms wrap themselves around your waist, pulling you into a lap. He holds you on the floor, lets you cry it out until the sun comes up.

The first words to come out of your mouth: “You said you wouldn’t make me a widow.”

He holds you tighter, “And I didn’t.”

Simon doesn’t tell you what happened. All you know is that he had been taken, tortured, and somehow rescued. 

He looks different. He’s gots lots of scars now. They bother him, he covers up in long shirts and pants more often than not, no matter how much you tell him he doesn’t need to. He says that he doesn’t want to worry you with them.

It’s not the scars that worry you. Simon’s different. Whatever happened to him back there had made him needy. He doesn’t let you out of his sight. At night, you’re adhered to his side by an impossibly strong grip. He whispers in his sleep, don’t leave me, as though you could possibly escape his iron grip. Maybe needy isn’t the right word. Obsessive, more like.

He digs the ring up just like you did– all bare hands and fury. You don’t know how he found it– you never told him. You just wake up one morning to him pawing furiously at the ground. He pulls it out and presents it to you like a cat with a dead mouse. He puts the ring on your finger before even rinsing the dirt off.

In bed he consumes you. Where once sex was fun and playful, it now is a ritual, like Simon is claiming you. It’s enjoyable, yes, but overwhelming. You don’t think he blinks anymore. It’s like he’s worried you’re going to be ripped away from him, like every time is the last time.

Two months after he comes home, papers arrive for him in the mail. He’s being deployed again. You’re worried. It’s too soon. You can’t lose him again, and you tell him as much.

Simon placates your worries with a kiss on the head. As he pulls you into a hug, he utters, “Love, I crawled out of the grave for you once. You best bet I’ll do it again.”

Somehow, you don’t think he’s lying.

[thatonesillyfrog]

Which category of alterhumanity do you belong to? I'm a therianthrope and a phytanthrope (aka greenkin, woodkin, or plantkin)!

What/who is/are your type(s)? (if you have any) Dingo, cougar, and resurrection fern are my highest kins, and some sort of avian (red hawk, I believe) as well as rodent (most likely an eastern gray squirrel) as well. Some of my headmasters have different ones.

Do you experience shifts? If so, can you tell us your most common shifts and your strangest cameo shift (if you've ever had a cameo shift)? I'm a contherian, so I always have a phantom tail, phantom legs, or phantom something else. I'm also often sensory shifted and sometimes on a weak mental shift. My weirdest cameo shift was either a snake or an airplane.

How do you experience your alterhumanity in everyday life? I am a kemonomimi (which is just a person who likes wearing animal ears and tails, and sometimes other similar accessories) and wear my gear in day to day life. I use my kemonomimi gear to express my nonhumanity and feel happier in my own skin. I do experience species dysphoria, especially around my phantom shifts, so this helps a lot.

What do you think of the community? Depends on the platform! Here, I love the amount of information and fun facts and the way that people really strive to be able to see themselves and be seen as how they identify. I also really love the TikTok therian community as a lot of it is just fun!

What are the things that make you most comfortable and euphoric in your alterhumanity? Wearing tails and ears and collars, quads are fun, laying in specific animalistic positions while doing something like eating or watching TV, etc. I also really like keeping my nails long. Specific kinds of movements are very affirming. I also love doing voice training for therian and transgender purposes. Makes vocals easier and more fun.

Are you experiencing species dysphoria? Yup. Pretty often. It doesn't often get super severe, but one of my headmastes recently shaved off every inch of hair on our entire body and it has not been fun being furless :/ It's also sad whenever somebody bumps into my tail and say sorry and I didn't feel it or notice it. Makes it feel disconnected.

What advice would you like to say to a young alterhuman who has just awakened? Don't try and figure out anything right now! Take your time and let it come naturally. Nothing except a nonhuman identity is required to be alterhuman. You don't need gear, quads, or to be out. Finding community, though, is wonderful. Have fun with your identity, but also feel free to acknowledge the hard stuff. Just remember, it's not all bad. :)

Do you have/want to have gears? I do! I have multiple tails, all of which I've either made myself or (for the taxidermy tails) gotten at yard sales and I make ears on a regular basis. I love making collars as well. I have a buncha puppy stuffies that I consider my pups (in my past life as a dingo I was a mum) and I also have some jangly bracelets that bring me joy. I have a lot of animal themed knicknacks sitting about my room.

Do you know/have any theories about the origin of your alterhumanity? If so, tell us! (all beliefs are legitimate) Trauma, neurodivergency, past lives, imprinting, and simple psychological differences. All of these are valid and (to me) fascinating theories about the origin of alterhumanity in general! For me personally, I think mine comes from trauma and past lives, as well as some neurodivergency.

Tag someone/a creature to answer these questions! @hyprfixed

If you are an alter/nonhuman, reblog and answer these questions!

(don't be afraid to write a lot, do what you want ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯)

1/ Which category of alterhumanity do you belong to?

2/ What/who is/are your type(s)? (if you have any)

3/ Do you experience shifts? If so, can you tell us your most common shifts and your strangest cameo shift (if you've ever had a cameo shift)?

4/ How do you experience your alterhumanity in everyday life?

5/ What do you think of the community?

6/ What are the things that make you most comfortable and euphoric in your alterhumanity?

7/ Are you experiencing species dysphoria?

8/ What advice would you like to say to a young alterhuman who has just awakened?

9/ Do you have/want to have gears?

10/ Do you know/have any theories about the origin of your alterhumanity? If so, tell us! (all beliefs are legitimate)

11/ Tag someone/a creature to answer these questions!ㅤᵕ̈

[stvrnioloslvt]

❛❛ ⛸️ + 🏒 ❞

fuck you, christopher sturniolo

✎ t.w.: sexual tension!

you sighed, throwing your books in your bag. what was the point of studying until you felt physically nauseous if the maximum you could get was always a C?

you didn't understand: you did everything you could think of to memorise and understand the stuff you had to study for your exams, yet it wasn't enough. it never was.

"hey! how..." your roommate turned to face you with a big smile on her face, holding proudly her exam sheet with a big red A written on top of it. her smile faded as soon as she saw your disappointed expression, her eyes falling to the piece of paper you had abandoned carelessly on your desk. "oh, baby..." she cooes, her hand rubbing comfortingly your arm. "it's fine, next time it'll go better, yeah?"

you shake your head, the weight of disappointment sitting heavily on your stomach. you sighed before saying, "i need to get some air. i'll see you at the rink, yeah?"

cherry sighed, but she nodded nevertheless. she whispered a soft "okay," then let go of your arm as you got up and left the room.

the halls were, as always, crowded as fuck. normally it wouldn't bother you one bit, but today...yeah, today you were pissed, to say the least. you just couldn't help it, negativity radiating from every cell of your body.

your original plan of going outside to cool your brain quickly changed, your feet bringing you elsewhere, completely out of your jurisdiction. and before you knew it, you stood at the perimeter of the ice rink, watching as a bunch of hockey players glided left and right across the arena.

your eyes caught the jersey of a man sliding right in front of you, the name "STURNIOLO", the number 3 standing proudly below it.

"yo, ice baby" chris took off his helmet right as the coach blew in the whistle, signaling the end of the practice. your friend shook his head left and right, droplets of sweat flying around. you mentally thanked the presence of the thick plastic walls between you two. chris got out of the rink, stomping his feet to reach you without losing balance.

he sat on the bench near you, putting the helmet down. "so? what are you doing here? you don't have lesson for another hour and a half."

you shrugged, sitting down beside him. "just had to get some fresh air."

chris eyed you, analyzing your face. he clearly didn't buy your lie, and he was determined to find out what was going on in your mind. "yeah, no kid, spill the truth or something cause i'm not buying your bullshit."

you groaned annoyed, well aware that he wasn't going to let it go until he had an answer. sighing, you got up, walking back and forth while explaining to him how frustrated you were at yourself cause no matter how hard you studied, nothing seemed to work and you felt like you were just loosing time.

chris didn't speak, letting you ramble on and on about your problem, eventually nodding to signal that he was, in fact, listening. you took a big breath once you finished talking, feeling definitely better. maybe cherry was right when she told you that speaking does, indeed, help.

"you do know that matt took the same exam, right?"

taken aback by his question, you didn't answer him: did he? he probably took it the year before, cause there was no way you never noticed him. you shook your head, sitting down in front of your friend.

he hummed, shrugging before casually saying "he did. passed with a straight A, maybe he can help you."

"i..."

"it's fine, really. i'll talk to him at dinner, yeah? don't worry, baby, you're gonna ace it." and just like that, he got up from the bench, grabbing his helmet before ruffling your hair and heading outside.

"hey! aren't you gonna shower or something?" you called out, watching confused as chris turned around briefly, exclaiming "water's out!" before closing the door behind him.

you furrowed your brows, clearly not expecting it. you decided to check for yourself, walking towards the door that lead to the locker room.

as you entered the room, you didn't notice the lonely gym bag hiding behind the door, its content spilling from the open zipper. you kept walking towards the showers, wanting to check the water pressure from one of the sinks there.

as you opened the door, steam engulfed you whole, blocking your view. from one of the open showers emerged matt, wrapped in a white towel. you stood frozen at the door, not knowing what to do, but with one thought in mind: fuck you, christopher sturniolo.

right as you turned around to run away from there, matt's eyes caught yours, freezing you on the spot. you couldn't help but admire the way drops of water dripped from his long hair, falling on his face and neck, running down to his exposed torso. and god, was he well sculpted. your mouth dried at the sight, your heart drumming in your ribcage. your hands itched with the want–no, the need– to touch him, to explore his body with your fingers, drawing every crevice and dip and curve of his abs.

"jesus," you whispered softly, almost inaudible, catching yourself in the act and hoping he didn't hear anything. luckily for you, he didn't. and if he did, he acted like he didn't.

he cleared his throat, smirking as your eyes snapped back to his face. "anything you like, baby?" he asked, stepping closer to you to grab another smaller towel he had placed on the sink earlier. he ran said towel through his hair, trying to absorbe as much water as possible, all while not breaking eye contact. for the first time, you asked yourself if he called you by your name or if he meant it as a pet name. either way, you didn't like how much it affected you.

"i- i'm sorry i didn't know you were here," you stuttered embarrassed, trying to regain some decency back.

he bit back a smile, genuinely amused by the situation. "clearly," he murmured, watching you struggle to not let your eyes fall back on his body. he decided to pull a little trick on you, glancing down quickly at his body knowing that the immediate reaction he would get would be a mirror of his own act. and, indeed, your eyes travelled down his body instinctively, a natural reflex of your own body betraying you. 

you mentally cursed yourself, realising too late what had just happened. however, you couldn’t help but stare, noticing only now the tent hiding beneath his towel. you didn’t know if it was the steam, matt’s presence or your own arousal, but your mind began fogging like crazy, leaving you dizzy and unstable on your legs. matt took a couple steps towards you, your feet moving backwards until your back hit the cold tile wall of the shower room, effectively trapping you.

you could feel the heat radiating from his body clouding your senses, turning your brain in mush.  

“matt-” you gasped, his blue eyes burning holes into your skin from the intensity of his gaze. he slowly raised his hand, caressing so delicately your cheek the same way you would touch a ceramic doll, delicate and careful in fear it might break. you closed your eyes at the contact, so delicate and warm yet so wrong and rushed. you swallowed hard before managing to croak out a soft “what are you…”

at the sound of your voice matt seemed to snap back to reality, his hand dropping by his side. the bubble of tension suddenly bursted, bringing you both back to reality, cold chills running through your arms. “shit, i-” he sighed, running a hand on his face, “you should probably go.”

you stood there paralyzed for a couple more seconds, watching as he turned around and walked away. you nodded slowly to no one in particular before running through the door, leaving the locker room. as soon as the chilled air of the halls hit your face you started breathing again, releasing a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

and as you walked towards your room, only one image crossed your mind, repeating on loop: matt sturniolo half naked in front of you, aching to touch you.

© stvrnioloslvt

𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐂𝐎𝐏𝐘 𝐀𝐍𝐃/𝐎𝐑 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐋 𝐌𝐘 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊. 𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐏𝐎 𝐈𝐒 𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐄 𝐀𝐒 𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐆𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐓

ও a.n: hi guys, i'm so sorry i haven't posted in a while, i have a shit ton of exams to take and way too little time to write :(

ও anyway, hope you liked the little sexual tension between those two, i sure has hell had fun writing it! as always, you're more than welcome in my comments/inbox to ask questions, requests, etc.

ও also... look how cute this little thing is! it's a fennec fox, and i feel like it embodies 100% baby's personality, cute as fuck but also wild and not too keen on physical contact. in love with it, honestly.

love you all, bree ☾

icy taglist: @shadowthesim @sturnioloszn @sofieeeeex @m4ttg1rl @marrykisskilled @thecrawlys @x0x0bunny @izzylovesmatt @sturniolosweets @sturnslutz @user1smvtysturniolo @gabrielaperez11

[solvicrafts]

You know, I've seen a few people online making shitty comments about the fires in SoCal right now, and about all the rich peoples' homes burning, and I'm disgusted and just so exhausted over how crass, mean-spirited, and downright nasty so many people are the moment they think they're in the clear to feel good about someone else being hurt, just as long as it's, you know, one of THOSE people and not them.

Meanwhile, I'm over here thinking about when I used to work at the hippie woo store a few years back, and I was waiting outside for the bus after a night shift, and one of our regular customers (a pretty wealthy woman who I'm pretty sure LIVES in one of the areas that's affected by the fires right now) drove past me, then pulled around and gave me a ride home.

And then I remembered the time she waited until nearly closing time one night hoping to confront another regular customer who had been horrendously rude to me.

Hot take: I have had coworkers that were full on MAGA, anti-vaxxers, anti-choice, etc. and as much as I absolutely could not stand those people, as angry as I was that I would get punished for reporting their inappropriate behavior, as resentful as I was about the times I was told to apologize to my racist old coworker for offending her by pointing out that she can't be going on insane rants while ringing up our fucking customers, at the end of the day, if I ran across that same coworker bleeding out in the road, I would run out to help her.

I fundamentally disagreed with her on every single thing that came out of her mouth. I consider her one of the most vapid, selfish, and ignorant people I've ever met in my life. And I would still help her if I came across her and she needed it, not because I particularly want to do something nice for her, but because it's the right thing to do.

I would not take pleasure out of watching her suffer, or lose her home. I would not enjoy watching my most hated customers go through that. I sure as hell don't enjoy seeing complete strangers suffer and lose THEIR homes. I could sit here and whine about how at least THEY have homes to lose, or I could do the bare minimum thing that any decent person can do, and just not be a huge asshole.

I'm sure a good at least a few of those people who lost their homes were probably some of my worst customers. I know the area (well, a little bit, anyway), and I know we had shoppers that would come out to our store from there. And quite a few of them were absolutely insufferable. And still, I hope that they are safe, and that their homes are okay.

[emacrow]

The villains had been 'mildly' concerned about their fellow villain, scarecrow by emacrow/creator

He haven't been to the annual monthly meeting in 6 months after his quiet muttering that how he beat The Mistress of Fear plotting by destroying her psychology.

Only for him to stumbled a bit in the door with a heavy limp, a marriage ring that was a gem bejeweled carved in the shape of pumpkin head on his ring finger, his scarecrow pants inside out, his jacket was missing, revealing several black and orange lipsticks marks and hickies on his shoulder, his sack mask has a new decoration of a childish scribble doodles of a ghost and a stitches of a carved pumpkin with glowing emerald eyes that was the Mistress of Fear symbols on the backside with his curly hair longer then it usually was, sneaky a bit out under the sack.

He look like someone who got their soul devoured in one go during a one night stand,

He ignored the obvious stares and snickering of each and every one of the guys watching him sit in his personal seat.

"So did you found what Mistress of Fear plotted against you, Scarecrow?" Harley was the speak first, a chuckle on how Scarecrow glared sent her way, fixing his mask.

"Oh, I think he found it alright." Penguin snickered.

"Fuck, now I owe Cat lady 1000 bucks."

"S-shut up! Scarecrow growled back if he wasn't struggling with his legs so much being weak in the knees.

"I still don't believe that The Mistress of Fear married this guy when she as tall as Killer croc and he like-." Riddler emphasize the height between Mistress and Scarecrow.

"He survived the other dozen times he fought her. Hell, Joker is still in the isolated cell for extend time after what she done to him the first fight, but seeing this. I can see she pretty much destroyed the poor guy to the point of bedrest." Bane spoke quietly, which cause the roar of laughter to begin in the meeting table.

"Bet she had many treats and tricks for our poor scarecrow to be walking like baby deer like that."

....

....

....

Jonathan wanted to blow up the entire meeting with his newly tested extreme fear toxic bomb so badly, but he held his anger and embarrassed down tight, considering half the thing they were gossiping were the truth.

They didn't have a clue what he went through personally.

He could barely hold a shiver trying to rise up his back after what was his honeymoon, along with learning some deep dark secrets Lilith had in her closet after he tried to snoop into.

Her endless, glowing green otherworldly filled of the damned souls that the soulshredder hoard closet that sucked him in for what felt like eternity when it was only 5 minutes in there before he passed out from terror.

No wonder she wasn't afraid inhaling the damn fear toxic when she had a goddamn portal to hell in her bedroom.

What he got forced into marrying her was to destroy her, but he was now playing against the unknown element that Lilith was a mistress of.

He doesn't want to remember the Training schedule she set upon him, but the lessons..

Oh the lessons of learning about fear essence in souls, Jonathan was drooling like he was starving for every single word that Lilith was speaking during that entire session, not cause his heart was skipping a beat with how she grin about a certain topic in fear or how his palms drench in sweat and face burning hotter then lava watching her show him a tiny water drop size of Fear essence in her hands.

He never was sexually attracted to anyone women or man, much less desire to touch or have affection for, but at that moment seeing that sparkle of flaming interest and desire in lilith's eyes showing him that made all the blood in his head went south for the first time in ever was the most embarrassing thing in his entire life.

He was fucked.. even literally in the sense.

Previous pt 1 link<- pt 3 link here<-

[hiraizyo]

running in circles, now look what you’ve done.

synopsis — tension grows between you and daniela as you’re faced with newfound feelings.

friends with benefits, suggestive, fluff, angst, swearing, jealous!reader, lesserafim 6th member!reader

now playing: friends, chase atlantic.

a/n: continuation of this. reader & dani need to get their shit together, reader is also kinda an asshole :/ she’s really trying tho !!! this is like lowk sad-ish WHOOPS. the previous imagine focused mainly on dani, so this one will showcase reader’s feelings :)

++ in honor of reaching 111 followers i wrote this longer than i planned for <3

the week flies by, and before you know it, you’re in LA for a couple days, busying yourself with scheduled photoshoots. you’re jet lagged by the time you’ve landed, wanting to only crawl into bed and sleep for hours. the friday comes and goes, and you’re exhausted by the end of it from the rigorous routine of changing into different outfits and fittings, having your makeup retouched constantly.

currently, you were sitting at the dinner table of your apartment here in LA, impulsively buying it after hearing the complaints of yunjin about staying in hotels every time lesserafim came to the states. your hair was damp from the shower you’d had half an hour ago, and you were nursing a warm cup of tea.

the sound of the face time ringing echoed around the room, leaning back against the chair as you waited for daniela to pick up.

the chiming notes alerted you that your face time was answered, and you smiled immediately seeing the curly haired girl come into frame.

“hey.” you said quietly, but your voice was filled with clear enthusiasm.

daniela shuffled around, her room door closing in the background. “shit, sorry. lara wouldn’t leave me alone.” she leaned back against the headboard, balancing her phone on her knees. “what’s up?”

at the mention of her member, you felt your chest tighten. it wasn’t a secret that all katseye girls were close, and while you were mostly fine with it, something about daniela and lara’s friendship irked you.

you shrugged the feeling off, focusing on the latina in front of you through the screen. “nothing, really. the shoots went well, and i got here about an hour ago.”

daniela nodded, listening intently. “were the outfits any good?”

you grinned, humming loudly. “yep, i think you’ll like them a lot when they’re posted. but fair warning, i looked really hot, so try not to fall in love with me or anything.”

the blonde rolled her eyes in a light hearted manner, “oh please. never in a million years.”

you chuckled, loving the teasing game between you and her. it was times like this when you really enjoyed your friendship, being able to match one another’s energy despite your agreement.

“ouch,” you dramatically placed a hand over your heart, clutching at your chest. “you wound me, dani.”

daniela giggled noisily, smiling so wide that her dimples showed. “i’m excited to see you tomorrow.”

you swallowed down some of your tea, the taste nice and sweet. adjusting yourself in the dining room chair, you propped up your leg to lean your head against it. “me too.”

without realizing it, daniela’s hand reached to play with your necklace around her neck. the action caused you to follow her movements, stomach fluttering.

“so, are you going to tell me about this surprise or what?” she attempted to get it out of you, like she’d been doing for the past week.

“ah uh,” you tutted and cheekily wagged a finger at her. “that’s not how surprises work.”

“pleaseee.” she begged, whining as she threw her head back. daniela looked at you a moment later, trying her best to coax you with her eyes.

“you know your charms don’t work on me like that.” you clicked your tongue, the tug of you slips never leaving.

daniela squinted at you, her voice dropping an octave. “they worked enough to get you into bed with me.”

your reaction was comical, looking gobsmacked at her, mouth hanging open. a second later, a sheepish laughed escaped you as you ducked your head down, trying to hide your blush.

“now we’re shy all of a sudden?” she added on, her teasing grin still in place.

“shut up!” you hollered at her. your body felt warm, and you were sure your cheeks were redder than ever by now.

“i think it’s cute.” daniela told you, beaming at you. her eyes crinkled at the sides as happiness ran through her like electricity.

when you finally recomposed yourself, and daniela decided you’d had enough of her teasing, the conversation flowed easily between you two, going from the different work schedules to shows you were recently into.

time seemed to pass by quickly, and it wasn’t long before telling daniela was telling you her goodbyes after seeing you let out yawn for the second time.

after hanging up and bidding her a goodnight, the remnants of the call lingered with you. though you were tired a second ago, your mind was filled with the thoughts of daniela. a warmth spread from your heart, and you could tell you were carefully threading on the line of thinking her as more than a friend.

the realization scared you, knowing that what was going on between you and her was strictly fun and games.

you were never good with feelings, it was why most of your relationships had ended up in flames, the only exception being kazuha. romantic entanglements always left you feeling empty — whether that was because of the way you saw yourself, pushing others away for self preservation, or the way you’s seen love around you crash and burn, you weren’t sure.

so, with a heavy sigh, you buried it deep inside, deciding to deal with it another day.

you were rarely an angry person, you prided yourself on that. but now, staring at daniela’s instagram story of her and lara, the dark feeling coursed through your veins.

it was a simple photo, one that wouldn’t bother any other person. but what had you clamping your teeth together was the hand placement of lara. her fingers wrapped around daniela’s waist lowly, hugging her close against her body as they stood side by side.

you scoffed, trying to get the image out of your head. daniela would be at your apartment soon, you’d texted her the address earlier in the day, and you didn’t want to ruin your little surprise with your sour mood.

twenty minutes passed by — daniela was late. you usually didn’t fret much on people being on time, especially if it was for a casual hangout, but knowing who the girl was with at the moment blurred your rational thinking.

when she finally reached your place, the door was quickly being closed behind her and she barely had a chance to register her surroundings before you were pressing her against the door, lips attaching to hers.

daniela gasped, startled by your sudden movements. her body melted into yours, fingers digging into the waistband of your pants. your hands fell to her hips, gripping them harshly in the same place lara’s hands were, squeezing the flesh delicately, as if staking your claim. your tongue dipped out to run along her bottom lip, asking for entrance. daniela denied you, leaning her head away as you chased after her.

her hands left your waistband and she placed them on your chest, “someone’s eager.” she chuckled, her lipstick now a mess.

“just missed you,” mumbling hazily, you breathed out in heavy pants. “and i had a really long day yesterday.”

daniela smirked and leaned up until we lips were touching the shell of your ear, whispering lowly. “planning to fuck your frustrations out on me?” she was teasing you, drawing out a deep rumble from you.

one of your hands released the grip on her hip, cupping her jaw as you moved her back to face you and closing the tiny gap between you two.

“you talk too much.”

whatever daniela wanted to say next was swallowed down as you pressed a harsh kiss to her lips once again. you tasted hints of caramel on them, feeling like you addicted and she was your fix.

your body pressed further into hers until your hips rocked together, and your hand made its way into her hair, wrapping your fingers around her curls. daniela’s hands on your chest trailed over until they were gripping your bicep, digging her nails into them. she sighed heavenly, kissing you back with just as much force.

when the need for air was too much, you both parted, breathing heavily. your mind was still reeling from the jealousy you felt, so you hung you head low as your forehead was placed on the junction between daniela’s neck and shoulder.

her body slumped against the door, skin tingling as your hands snuck under her shirt, holding onto her torso.

you were breathing together now, as if you were one person. chest to chest, daniela’s heart beat rapidly against her rib cage. she couldn’t tell that your eyes were closed, trying to recollect yourself, and when you pulled away from, the silver chain of your necklace caught your attention.

at the sight of it, your mind cleared. the jealousy faded away and all that was left was a warm glow in your chest.

your fingers delicately took hold of the necklace, smiling gently. “you’re wearing it.”

daniela gazed at you, pupils dilating. “of course.” she said quietly, “it feels like i have a part of you with me.”

your breath hitched at her words, stuttering for a moment. her hand reached for yours, the necklace dropping around her neck as your fingers locked together.

“tell me about the surprise now.” daniela peered at you, pouting lightly.

you chuckled, finally stepping away from her and pulled her along with you, your hands never letting go of one another.

gesturing around you with your free hand, your lips tugging into a smile seeing the fully furnished place. it was an open floor plan, big enough to have two couches in place, a coffee table, an entertainment system with a flat screen tv, and a dining room on the other end of the room.

daniela looked around, taking in the place though her confusion was visible. you quietly snickered to yourself, running your thumb along the back of her hand.

“i bought it a while ago so that whenever the girls and i come to the states we have a place to crash.” you briefly explained, a gentle smile gracing your features as you observed daniela’s reaction.

“i wanted you to be the first to see it.”

in an instant, her stare shot from looking at the decor to yours. her grip tightened, squeezing your hand for a short second.

and there it was, the stars in her eyes.

hanging in air was the unspoken feelings between you and daniela. the atmosphere around you was soft and intimate, falling deeper into one another.

“yn…” she laughed breathlessly, “this place is amazing.”

you shrugged, keeping your gaze on her as she looked around for a second time. “i figured a hotel would be too risky, especially with paparazzi, so i thought we could spend the night here.”

daniela looked at you again, her grin widening. she used your intertwined hands to pull you closer until your body crashed into hers. she kissed you gently, with such passion and intimacy it made your head spin.

you stopped the kiss for a brief moment, tugging her into the direction of the hallway, a dark glint in yours eyes.

“come on,” you faced her, walking backwards. “the rest of the surprise is in the bedroom.”

daniela giggled, kissing you once again. you laughed together as you made your way to the bedroom in a flurry of kisses, yanking on one another’s clothes and almost tripping over your own feet in your rushed movements.

soft music echoed around the apartment, you and daniela sitting together on couch cushions by the coffee table. takeout boxes were littered on the glass surface, the food half eaten.

there’s a certain comforting feeling surrounding the both of you. daniela was wearing one of your oversized shirts, the sleeve reaching her elbow.

you sighed contentedly, wiping your hands on a napkin and tossing it into the table. “i forgot how hungry sex makes you.”

daniela chortled, “what a romantic thing to say.”

“i try.” you shrugged lightly, grinning like a cat.

she shoved your arm softly, mumbling something incoherent under her breath. you broke into a fit of giggles at her faux angry look. her eyebrows were scrunched together cutely, and her lips were pressed together in a thin line.

you softly nudged on her frown lines, earning a swat on your hand from the latina. she tried to seem annoyed, but the smile you had caused for her own to form.

the two of you settle in a pleasant silence, enjoying one another’s presence. you felt content, thinking you could get used to nights like this with daniela.

“can i ask you something?” her voice breaks the peacefulness. you hummed, leaning your back against the couch and looked at her, tilting your head towards her.

daniela paused, contemplating if she really wanted to ask this. it’d been on her mind for weeks now, ever since the conversation with megan, and the curiosity was killing her. her fingers were wringing together in nervous. she spoke so softly, you had to strain your ear in order to hear her.

“why didn’t you tell me about kazuha?”

the question hangs in the air. you hadn’t expected her to ask this, you weren’t even aware she knew about your and your group member.

“mmh?” your eyebrows creased together, now facing daneila.

“you and kazuha.” she repeated, voice firm. “why didn’t you mention it?”

the latina watched you carefully as you sighed and sat up, staring in front of you. the sudden shift in the room weighed on her, and she feared she had said something wrong. she opened her mouth to tell you never mind, to forget she even asked, but your voice stopped her.

“i didn’t say anything because i didn’t think it was important.” you shrugged carelessly, longingly looking ahead of you. “kazuha and i were together around the time of our debut. she and i were getting closer, and it just sorta… happened.”

you swallowed down a lump that formed at the memories briefly playing in your head. “but it’s over. it was over long before you and i started this.”

in a flash, the memories left your mind. your chest felt heavy, but the lingering scent of daniela’s perfume brought you back. you reminded yourself that kazuha was in the past, and you were better off as friends in any case.

daniela couldn’t stop herself from staring at you, your body language now closed off. it was clear that her question had changed the mood.

“okay.” she mumbled, hushed and quiet.

as you struggled between your past and present, you wet your bottom lip, suddenly becoming aware that you had never spoken about kazuha before, so how did daniela hear about it?

you looked her at in suspicion, “how did you know about that, anyways?”

“does it matter how i know?” daniela retorted quickly, eyebrow raised in defense.

“yes.” you stated, your voice indicating that you were beginning to feel annoyed. “because the only people who’re aware about kazuha and i are my members, and if you knew then you must be talking to one of them, or something.”

“i’m not talking to any of your members, yn.” daniela denied, feeling as if your accusing tone was uncalled for.

“good.” finally turning to look into her eyes, you gave her a pointed gaze. “we agreed to keep this a secret, remember?”

“how can i not remember? you never let me forget it.” she countered bitterly, folding her arms on her lap tightly.

the gravity of the situation took a turn, you could sense it. what was once calm waters was now turning into a high tide. the feelings you and daniela kept hidden beneath the surface came bubbling out in the worst way possible.

daniela was getting defensive and rightfully so, while you had displeasure overpowering your emotions, acting irrationally, spewing out words without giving it an ounce of thought.

“dani, our members can’t know.” you stressed, sitting up to face her fully. “they’ll just try and get involved, ask all sorts of questions, worry about us.”

the blonde squinted at you in disbelief, waving her hand around. “obviously they’ll worry, they’re our friends.”

“it doesn’t matter!” you screeched out, face contorting into one of anger. “it’s better for the both of us to be a secret.”

you got up from your position on the floor, setting the couch cushion back in its place on the furniture. daniela followed your movements, standing across from you, and even though you were right in front of her, it suddenly felt as if you were miles apart.

“right, a secret.” daniela scoffed, looking off to the side. her arms were rigid at her side, clicking her tongue over her teeth.

“or are you just worried how a certain member will react if she finds out?” she questioned, using the same accusing tone you had on her.

you brushed your fingers through your hair, messing it up even more. all you could do was stare at her, jaw clenched at this unbelievable impression she had of you and kazuha.

you blinked, gaze now glaring at her. “don’t do that..” you sighed, shaking your head.

“do what?” she asked, titling her head mockingly.

“say things like that and expect me to read between the lines!” you yelled out, the anger you felt now being put out in the open.

it was alarming how quickly daniela’s demeanor changed. in a split second, her look of wrath and jealousy turned into a blank expression. she swallowed, her throat bobbing up and down. the latina looked around the room, her body feeling exhausted from her rise in temper.

“i think i should go.” she announced, gesturing to the door.

“fine.” you waved, shutting yourself away from her. your voice was cold, “go.”

daniela huffed, not sparing you a second glance as she hurriedly collected her things. when she exited the bedroom, coming out from the hallway fully dressed, you were still standing the place she left you.

a part of her wanted you to stop her, tell her to stay, tell her that everything would be alright. but her desires weren’t met as you stood rooted in your spot. her heart clenched, wondering if this was the end.

with final look, she took her leave.

the door shutting behind her had you gasping for air, the little argument taking its toll on you. you screwed your eyes shut, your mind spiraling with thoughts.

what the fuck just happened? you asked yourself, the takeout on the coffee table reminding of how quickly the night took a turn.

falling back onto the couch and slumping into the softness of it, your hand reached to rub the back of your neck. guilt consumed you, regret taking its hold over you. your hands trembled, stuffing your face into them as you replayed the quarrel in your head.

daniela was long gone from the apartment building, and your heart was taken with her.

it wasn’t the end, at least not yet.

you and daniela didn’t talk for days, the last conversation being the one in your apartment. even when you’d left to go back to south korea, you contemplated texting her, but ultimately decided against it.

you were both feeling the aftermath of everything, coping in your own ways. and how that worked for you, was to binge watch your favorite comfort show. your members joined here and there, they could tell something was up with you but they didn’t ask any questions, knowing that you needed the space and you would talk when you were ready.

it didn’t stop them from speculating, though. yunjin had a feeling that it was to do with daniela, hearing from megan and sophia that the latina wasn’t doing well either. she voiced her concerns to the members, and it was kazuha who promised she’d talk to you when the time was right.

as you got up from your bed to get a drink from the fridge, your phone began to ring. slugging yourself towards it, daniela’s name was clear and bright on your screen.

your heart quickened and your throat felt constricted. why was she calling? what did she have to say to you? when you answered the call, the last thing you expected was for her to be sounding angry, again.

“what fucking shit are you trying to pull?”

you frowned, sitting down on at the foot of the bed. feeling ticked off at her, you matched her fiery tone. “i’m sorry? you don’t talk to me for days and now you’re calling, yelling at me?”

on the other end, daniela rolled her eyes. the rest of the kats were all pilled into the lounge, planning for a movie marathon to cheer up their friend. they could hear her yells from the other room, glancing around at one another in concern.

“shut it,” she barked out. daniela’s hand was on her hip, visibly enraged. “what’s with the gift, huh?”

confusion was etched onto your face. “what are you talking about?”

daniela grumbled, “the gift, yn.” she hollered out, staring at a black box that sat on the kitchen island. the lid of the box lay next to it, while a silver bracelet delicately resting inside. “why is there a gift at the house with my name on it?”

hearing this, you slumped your shoulders and pressed a hand to your forehead. “shit.” you mumbled, the matching bracelet of your necklace slipped your mind once you came back home.

“i ordered it last week while i was in cali. it would take a couple days to get to you, but i forgot about it, dani.” you offered an explanation for the situation. “it was meant to be a surprise.”

daniela’s anger faded. she looked at the silver bracelet and reached out to touch it, gently. her emotions were all over the place, feeling confusion and resentment, but she also couldn’t deny the butterflies that swarmed in her stomach at the gesture.

“what does it mean?” she asked, afraid of the answer.

you stilled, breath being caught in your throat. now would be your chance to tell everything you’d been feeling the past month and a half, but something was stopping you.

what if daniela didn’t feel the same way? what if everything thats been happening was nothing her? what if, when you finally showed all yourself, daniela wouldn’t like what she saw?

as if on instinct, you shut your eyes and did what you do best — shoving your feelings deep inside, locking it away.

“nothing.”

daniela dropped the bracelet back in its place inside the box. hurt washed over her, reality had finally set in. “are you being for real?”

“the gift means nothing, dani.” you told her, even if your heart was screaming at you. “i saw it and thought you’d like it. i don’t know what else you want me to say.”

daniela stood in the katseye dorm, her walls finally crashing down. you both knew that this wasn’t the kind of gift you’d get someone for it to mean nothing, especially when it involved a relationship like yours and daniela’s.

much like the last time you’d seen one another, daniela did her best to mask her feelings. if you could see her now, you’d notice the tears that welled in her eyes, threatening to fall. she took in a deep breath, her voice wavering.

“don’t talk to me again.” daniela uttered, her vision blurry. “ever.”

she hang up from the call, and the second she did a cry ripped from her chest. her stomach was churning, throat feeling blocked as she choked out a sob.

the katseye girls rushed into the space where she was, watching as daniela’s whole world crumbled around her. manon took her into her arms, and daniela knew then she’d finally have to let her members in on her secret arrangement with you.

she definitely wasn’t looking forward to that.

the end of the call left a ringing in your ears, you barely registered how your phone fell from you hands and dropped onto the floor, the thud reverberating around you.

your eyes were beginning to sting. unblinking, you felt your hands shake. everything was spilling out all at once.

a knock was heard at the door, and then kazuha came into the room, noticing your vacant look. you didn’t take any note of her, continuing to stare ahead of you.

she walked towards you, cautiously, slowly, and it was only once kazuha kneeled in front of you did she see the millions of emotions in your eyes.

“yn, are you okay?” her voice broke your daze.

you gasped, chest aching. “zuha…” you called, choking on your words. “i think i really fucked things up with daniela.”

“what do you mean?” kazuha frowned, her hand being placed on your thigh. the weight of the her hand made it feel as if you were being awakened from a dream.

wiping away a stray tear that fell, you wet your lips, finally revealing what had been going on behind the curtains. “dani and i — ahem — we were hooking up. for the past several months, she and i would meet each other secretly. and… i-i couldn’t stop it, zuha. i kept having all these the feelings. and- and i didn’t know what to do.”

kazuha’s eyes widened at your state, seeing the walls around you break down. you were gasping for breath, clutching at your chest. your stomach felt as if it was being twisted, like you would throw up at any moment.

the japanese struggled to find the words to comfort you, but she didn’t need to as you began to speak again.

your voice shook, blinking slowly. “i got her this gift, and i told her it meant nothing.”

kazuha got off her knees, sitting besides you. the bed dipped, “did it?” she questioned.

you shook your head faintly, “no.” your hands grasped at kazuha’s, desperately holding on to them. “i don’t know. fuck, i’ve probably ruined our entire friendship too.”

the dark haired girl pulled your hands onto her lap, forcing you to look at her. it was a sight to behold — seeing her usually stoic member breaking down, eyes red and body shaking.

“hey, listen to me.” she leaned her head down until you were looking into her eyes. “you hid your arrangement pretty well, y’know. but i’ve seen the way you talk about her, the way you look at her. i know how you get when you have feelings for someone.”

she smiled gently, cupping your cheek as she wiped away your tears. kazuha had a warmth about her that made it easy to fall into her touch.

“she told me to never talk to her again.” you mumbled, a few more tears seeped out.

“so what?” kauzha shrugged. her eyes were gentle, furrowing her eyebrows together as she cradled your face in her hands. “you can’t push her away just because you think you’re unloveable.”

this was a delicate situation, and your emotions were at its highest. she needed to tread with caution, but her blunt honesty was necessary to realize your mistakes.

“everything i touch breaks, zuha.” your voice cracked, pain evident in it. you whispered it to her, “even with you and me.”

kazuha muttered no’s under her breath, denying you the opportunity to blame yourself even for a second. “we only ended because we were better off as friends, you know that.”

she spoke with conviction, but the soft features of her face lightened her words. “i get the past hasn’t been kind to you, but you can’t let it ruin your relationships anymore.” kazuha looked deep your eyes as they shone with heartache. “i can tell you really, really like her.”

you nodded, heart pounding. “more than anything.”

kazuha smiled at the quick response, “then let her know.”

her words made your lips tremble, knowing that your relationship with daniela had already crumbled. “she’s not going to want to speak to me after that call. i mean, how do i— wh- what am i even supposed to say?”

the girl pulled you closer, speaking in a rushed manner. “everything. tell her how you feel, why you acted like that. why you were so scared. you have to let her in, yn.”

your eyes were darting around, trying to regain control of yourself. your bottom lip was caught between your teeth, breathing fitfully.

kazuha could tell you were close to a panic attack at all the emotions you were feeling. you’d been carrying this weight on your shoulders for so long, hiding your feelings for daniela since the very first night you stayed at her place.

she rested her forehead against yours, reminding you to breathe. your eyes squeezed shut, as you listened to her mutter sweet nothings, running a hand through your hair to calm you down.

when the worst of it had passed, your head rested in the crook of her neck, falling into her. your breathing had evened out, and your body ached with exhaustion of the emotional breakthrough.

you lips brushed against her skin, “thank you, zuha.” the girl smiled, patting your back until you eyes began to feel droopy.

PLEASE DONT HATE ME Y’ALL 💔 it gets worse before it gets better :/

i MIGHT publish a fluffy lara fic to heal from this lmao, but the next part yn & dani are happy again gang :)

[that-hazbin]

Sorta AU/story idea where Alastor's a serial killer but he doesn't... completely realize that he's a serial killer.

He's super mentally Not Okay with a whole load of traumatic baggage, and sometimes when he gets past a stress threshold, he sort of... blacks out. Not faint, exactly, but his body moves on autopilot while his consciousness is just. Not there.

The first time it happened, he was fourteen. His father had beaten him black and blue, and left him limp on the floor to go beat Alastor's mother. When Alastor came to the realization that his mother stopped moving, his vision went blurry.

When he regained consciousness, his father was on the floor, bleeding from the head, eyes glazed over. It looked like he fell and hit himself on the corner of the dining table. Alastor lost both his parents on the same day.

After that, Alastor started having "episodes" a bit more often. A majority of the time, he manages to get home, and when he wakes up, he's hiding under his bed or in his closet, confused as to how he even got home. He doesn't want to be admitted into an asylum, of course, so he keeps quiet about this.

Sometimes, though?

Sometimes, he'll wake up knee deep in water, staring into the dark of a bayou. Sometimes, he'll wake up half-submerged in his bath, red going down the drain, with no clue as to where he's injured. Sometimes, the person who was screaming at him before the episode hit just went... missing the next day.

Alastor keeps quiet.

Naturally, when Alastor dies, he goes to hell. He doesn't remember the crimes, but he did commit them regardless. Of course, when people ask him what he did to end up down there, he can't give a real answer. The truth of the matter is that he doesn't know. Sure, he has... suspicions. Theories. But he doesn't know.

Things happen. He has several black out episodes in Hell before they simply stop happening, because he's stressed all the time and he can't just block every single second of every day from memory. He learns how to consciously survive in hell. Makes a name for himself.

Things roughly stay truthful to canon from there.

Then, one day, Charlie has a brilliant idea for a hotel activity. Part of redemption means acknowledging what brought you to hell to begin with, and what you can do now to make up for those actions! They go around the room, talking about the sins they committed, and what they can do now to improve. Alastor fully intends to stay out of the activity, he's not working towards redemption after all, but... Of course, Lucifer has to taunt.

Lucifer: What, you're just gonna sit around judging us?

Charlie: Er, dad—

Alastor: Hilarious coming from you, your majesty, truly. In any case, your memory seems to be failing you, I'm not here for redemption. I have no reason to participate.

Lucifer: Uh huh, neither is the bartender or the maid, you think you can be exempt just because you're staff? I'm the King of Hell and you don't see me skipping out. And here I would've thought you would have taken the chance to brag about the fucked up shit you did up there.

Charlie: Hey, guys, I don't think—

Alastor: Husk and Nifty are grown adults who are perfectly capable of making their own decisions. I am also a grown adult, and my decisions don't need to reflect theirs.

Lucifer: Oh, I see, you're a coward then?

Alastor: Believe whatever you want to, it makes no difference to me.

Lucifer: Sure it doesn't. Why don't we make this a game, huh? I'll guess your sins, and you stop me when I get it right.

Charlie: Dad, Alastor—

Lucifer: Can't imagine you fucked before marriage or anything, I mean, you scream prude. Bet you died a virgin.

Alastor: Hah, I wouldn't know. Are you done with your childish taunts, or are you going to allow your daughter to continue?

Lucifer stops dead, both because of the reminder that he's interrupting Charlie's activity, and also because he's replaying Alastor sentence back in his head. And, as the father of lies himself, he realizes that Alastor... wasn't lying when he said he didn't know.

Charlie: Great, yes, thank you Alastor! So, anyways—

Lucifer: Wait.

Charlie: Dad!

Lucifer: Seriously, wait. Bellhop, what the fuck do you mean you wouldn't know?

Angel: ... Oh shit.

Alastor: ... Charlie, continue your activity.

Charlie: Uh.

Lucifer: Oh, FUCK YOU! No, what the fuck did you mean by that?! What, were you like, drugged or—

Angel: HEY LET'S TALK ABOUT MY DEEP DARK PAST AS A MEMBER OF A MAFIA FAMILY!

Charlie: YES THANK YOU ANGEL LET'S TALK ABOUT IT! I'M VERY PROUD OF YOU FOR VOLUNTEERING!

Alastor gets the fuck out of dodge, and Lucifer finally gets the hint that he definitely stepped on a landmine that he very much should have not touched. Unfortunately, Lucifer alongside everyone in the hotel are left with a misunderstanding regarding Alastor's history.

[jjscrybaby]

first dates <3

jj maybank x fem!reader | fluff | (friends to lovers, just pure adorableness tbh, sexual jokes, kissing, smoking weed.)

︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶

“So, what does a date with JJ Maybank look like?” Your arm was linked through his, the two of you walking down the beach; the gentle breeze had goosebumps spreading over your bare skin. Sue you for wanting to look nice.

About 97% of the days you’d spent with JJ were in a bikini, pyjamas or just some old denim shorts and a crop top. You never tried to look nice for him, because you didn’t have to. He wasn’t your boyfriend, he was your friend. Ever since Sarah had started dating John B your circles had merged and the two of you had become particularly attached at the hip. Maybe you should have realised sooner you had feelings for him, but the line between friendship and romance is difficult to differentiate sometimes.

Surprisingly, you weren’t confused when he asked you out. It felt normal, felt right. You’d given him a sweet smile, kissed his cheek and told him to pick you up at seven.

“I can’t say I’ve been on many,” he admitted, shrugging his jacket off to put on you. “But, usually, I start with food.”

“You always do,” you tease, putting your arms through the hoodie with a grin. He linked his fingers through yours, throwing you a wink as he changed directions. You didn’t realise where you were headed until you were stood outside. “You want to have our first date at the Wreck? We eat here all the time.”

“You love the cheeseburgers,” he shrugged, holding the door open for you. The bell jingled above you, you looked back at him with a giddy smile.

Kiara, luckily, wasn’t working tonight so you didn’t have her eyeing the two of you like an overbearing mother. A waiter came over to your table and he ordered, knowing just what you wanted without you having to say a word. He’d decided to sit beside you instead of opposite, in a little booth in the back, you were pretty sure it was just so he could rest his hand on your thigh.

“You look beautiful, by the way,” he complimented. You’d decided on a sundress, knowing he had a thing for them.

“You’ve told me several times,” you teased, tucking your hair behind your ears. “You look beautiful, too.”

“Aww, thanks,” he laughed, making you giggle.

First dates were usually awkward, you’d always need at least two glasses of wine to loosen up. You hadn’t even had a sip for this. You adored JJ, he already knew everything about you so there were no awkward conversations needed to be had. He’d held your hair back whilst you threw up in a bush after one too many tequila shots, so you couldn’t possibly embarrass yourself. You felt completely relaxed, it was the best you’d felt in a long time.

Your food and drinks arrived, his hand didn’t stray from your thigh the entire meal. He flirted with you nonstop, but you very quickly realised he’d been doing that since you met. The teasing comments, the unsubtle looks, it was nothing new; and yet you still blushed every time.

“What’s next?” You asked as the two of you left the restaurant, his wallet the only one feeling a little emptier.

“The nice meal wasn’t good enough for ya?” He joked, arm around your shoulders.

“It was exquisite, but I think you can do better,” you shrugged, reaching up to hold the hand he’d wrapped around you.

“We’ll see.”

The arcade was your favourite place on the island, not for the games, no, they were fun but they weren’t the reason you loved it so much. You went there purely to people watch. A variety of people came into the arcade, and you loved to make up fun stories about them. And, of course, JJ knew that.

“What ‘bout them?” The two of you were sat, sipping slushies and looking around the room. You’d played a few games, he let you win every time, and now it was time for the real fun.

“She’s pregnant but hasn’t told him yet, because it’s not his baby,” you replied. He gasped dramatically, making you snort into your cup.

“Who’s the daddy?” JJ asked, subtly pulling you closer to him so your back was leaning against his chest.

Your cheeks went pink, but you chose to ignore it and take another sip of your drink; even as he let out a chuckle. “That guy.” You pointed to an elderly man who was standing in the corner.

“Damn, he’s still got it,” JJ murmured. You giggled, turning to face him with an amused smile. Your faces were inches apart as he grinned back at you.

For a second, you thought he was going to kiss you; he cupped your cheek and gently stroked his thumb over your cheekbone, but just as you were about to lean in he brought his hand back, licked his thumb and then rubbed it over your top lip.

“Slushie juice,” he explained, licking his thumb before looking around the room again. “Ooo, what about her?”

You were on his back as you walked back across the beach, your feet were hurting because you decided to wear uncomfortable shoes that went with your dress and you’d refused to walk any further. He didn’t even flinch, just bent down in front of you and waited. He was carrying your shoes, babbling on about something John B had done.

“Where are we headed?” He asked, adjusting his hold on you. “The Chateau?”

“On the first date? Who do you take me for?” You smirked.

“Says the girl who slept with Brandon Gibbs after the first date. Am I not good enough for you?” He replied dramatically.

“Hey! You promised to never bring that up again,” you whined.

He laughed, suddenly stopping in his movements to drop you back down. Instead of giving you your shoes like you expected, he sat down on the sand and waited for you to join him. “There’s one part of a JJ Maybank date that we haven’t done yet.”

“On the beach? Dirty,” you smirked, sitting down next to him.

“Shuddup.” He pulled out a pre-rolled joint from his pocket, waving it in your face. “My speciality.”

“Did you grow it?”

“I’ve had enough of the smartass comments, baby.” You couldn’t come up with another one, not with the way the pet name left his lips. He’d called you baby plenty of times, but something about that moment just made it feel special.

You shared the joint, passing it back and forth as you talked softly to each other. By the time it was finished, you were sitting in his lap with your eyes half open and kisses being pressed to the side of your head.

“So, how’d I do?” JJ murmured, lips only inches away from your ear.

“10/10,” you replied, running your hand through his hair with a lazy smile. “Best date I’ve ever been on, hands down.”

“Well that’s good to hear,” he grinned. “You think I did good enough for a kiss?”

“Mhm, maybe,” you teased, turning your head so your lips brushed against his. He let out a shaky exhale, cupping your cheeks in his warm hands like he’d done earlier on; except this time, there was no juice.

His lips moved smoothly against yours, hands pulling you as close as humanly possible. His tongue licked over your bottom lip, causing a hum to leave yours.

“Do you want to go on a second date?” He murmured against your lips.

“And a third,” you grinned.

When you both finally pulled away, both your lips were puffy, your hair messy and cheeks flushed. Neither of you had ever looked happier.

“C’mon, you’re carrying me to the Chateau if you want that second date,” you stated, standing up.

“Am I gonna be the new Brandon Gibbs?”

“Not anymore, you’re not.”

[nachrosas]

SLIDE TO LOVE | s.reid x reader

summary: you try to teach spencer how to roller-skate. pairing: spencer reid x reader content warnings: just spencer being a little drunk in this one! word count: 936 a/n: just a little fun day at park with spencer :)

It was a beautiful day. The park was especially alive there. Children's laughter echoed across the green fields, interspersed with the rhythmic sound of roller skates gliding across the asphalt. You were sitting beside Spencer on a bench shaded by a tree, watching the surrounding movement.

“Look at them!” you commented, pointing to a group of young people doing tricks on a small ramp. “I think they're competing to see who can get hurt first.”

Spencer adjusted his glasses, his curious gaze following their movements. “In fact, studies show that high-risk sports stimulate the release of adrenaline and dopamine, which can be considered a motivating factor. What's more, the likelihood of musculoskeletal injuries in sports like this is…”

You rolled your eyes, but couldn't contain your smile. “Right. Dr. Reid, what about you? Have you ever tried skating?”

He blinked, clearly taken aback by the question. “Me? No, never. It seems… too unstable for me.”

“It's fun!” you insisted a little, standing up and tugging on his hand. “Come on, Spencer. It's time to add that to your list of extraordinary skills.”

He hesitated, but your piercing gaze made him stand up slowly, adjusting the strap of his bag on his shoulder. “If I fall and hurt myself, it'll be your fault.”

“No problem! I'm a great instructor!” you assured him, guiding him to the small hut that rented out roller skates.

Spencer looked at the skates on his feet as if they were bombs about to explode. “Did you know that skating is responsible for approximately 100,000 injuries a year in the United States? About 33% of them involve the wrists, because when people fall, they choose their hands as a method of protection.”

You laughed, crossing your arms. “Okay, Dr. Statistics, but you're forgetting the most important fact: falling is part of the fun.” You took a step forward, grabbing his hands. “And besides, I'm here to make sure you don't become one of those 33%.”

He frowned, but you saw the corner of his lips twitch, almost forming a smile. “I can't be good at everything, you know?” he grumbled.

“Exactly! And that's why it's going to be so much fun to watch you stumble a little.” You winked at him and gently pulled him away from the grass, towards the asphalt.

As soon as the wheel of Spencer's roller skates touched the smooth surface, he staggered, his arms moving like uncontrolled propellers. You held on tightly to his hands, biting your lip to keep from laughing out loud. “Okay, okay, don't worry! Small steps, right? Let's try again.”

He nodded, his eyes fixed on his own feet, his expression determined. Every step was clumsy, and he stumbled a few times, but you never let go of his hands.

“You're thinking too much,” you commented, as you helped him regain his balance for the third time. “You have to relax, let the movement flow. It's like walking in sneakers! Only instead of sneakers, it's wheels.”

He looked up at you, his brown eyes shining with something other than frustration. “Relaxing? I'm not exactly good at it.”

You laughed, tilting your head. “Really? You don't even think so. All that genius and you can't take two steps without pulling me along?”

Spencer stopped, swaying slightly on his skates. “You know I'd do anything to see you smile like that, right?”

The world seemed to slow down. He said it as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, but the sincerity in his voice made your heart soar. A shy smile took over his face.

“Well, in that case,” you replied, squeezing their hands tighter. “You'd better keep practicing. Because I'm still not satisfied.”

He smiled back, genuine and full of renewed confidence, and took another step. Of course, he stumbled again, but this time your laughter echoed together, filling the park with a light and contagious joy.

With you still holding his hands, Spencer was able to glide with more confidence — or at least what felt like confidence. His movements were still clumsy as if he was learning to walk again, and that's when you realized that he was really trying. For you.

For a brief moment, he took three consecutive steps without stumbling, and you both celebrated as if he had just won a medal. But the euphoria was short-lived. With his next move, Spencer lost his balance, tripping and pulling you along.

You both fell to the ground awkwardly, but the impact was cushioned by the laughter that escaped your lips. You looked at him, who was now lying on his back, trying to catch his breath as he laughed more freely than you had ever seen before.

“I told you,” he said between laughs. “that it wouldn't end well.”

“Finish well?” you repeated, sitting down and holding out your hand to help him up. “Spencer, that was perfect!”

He accepted your help, taking a seat next to you, still with his skates on his feet. “If that's your definition of perfect, maybe I need to revise my standards.”

You gave him a gentle push on the shoulder, smiling. “You know, I think you're starting to get the spirit of the thing.”

He tilted his head, studying you with that look that seemed to unlock secrets. “Maybe it's because I have the best teacher in the world.”

You rolled your eyes, but your smile remained. “And you'll need more lessons! Next time, no falls, okay?”

“Next time…” he repeated, with a slight curve to his lips, as if the mere act of saying those words was a promise.

[milotraflgkl]

PT. 2 of Law being Delusional

note: I hope yall all enjoy this, there will be a part three but i might have to make yall wait for it so i can get through some older requests that im still behind on then once im done i’ll be able to write more random things i feel like writing. here is part one!

content: ooc?, law being soft, hinted confession/feelings, fluff

Law had been trying to deny his feelings but every time he’d close his eyes it was just.. you. He hated it and he knew at some point he was going to need to confront his feelings, to face you and look at you after almost two weeks of avoiding you. He never realized how important you were in his day-to-day life, the times you’d bring him coffee to wake him up as well as bring him small snacks throughout the day. He wasn’t sure why he felt so strongly about the situation, especially since he was the one who told you to shut up and pushed you away. He would grumble something as he brought his hands up to his head, leaning against his hands as his elbows rested on the table. He was trying to figure out how to talk to you, to bring it all up, and to take back what he said. To tell you that he wanted to talk, to bother him, to annoy him. All of the above.

Finally, he caved. Making his way around the submarine glancing into every room to try and find your face, to hear your voice, to see you again. He finally would make his way to the lounge area, finding you sitting there reading a book that he knew he had read before and you had caught home reading it. It made him grow nervous, the realization that you probably also continued to think about him and probably more than he thought about you made this all more nerve-wracking. It was stupid, he felt like a dumb teenage boy going to confess his feelings to his first-ever crush. But- He wasn’t going to confess his feelings! … Right? At this point, there was a blur between what he was going to do in the current moment and his body started to move on its own as he walked over to you looking down at you for a moment before he cleared his throat.

Flinching you snapped up to look up from your book, staring up at him as your eyes scanned his face and tried to figure out what even was happening in the current moment. With the way that he held his hat over his eyes and tilted his head to look away from you, his body language was strange and unusual. After a moment of staring at him in shock you clicked back to reality and shut the book moving to stand up, “I’m sorry, was I in the way?” You ask him as you slightly bow your head down to him and keep your eyes to the ground, worried you had done something else wrong and he was here to get onto you.

He hated the fact that his words had caused you to believe that just being even a bit in his area meant that you were in his way, he almost reached out but he quickly remembered that he didn’t want to open up the chance of physical contact. “No, I wanted to talk to you.” He said in a flat voice, his brows furrowed as he stared down at the wall next to him that was decorated with a bookshelf that was filled to the brim with different types of books. “I wanted to apologize for telling you to shut up and pushing you away like that…” He grumbled as he had a heavy frown on his face his eyes trying to distract himself by reading the different titles of the books.

You stared up at him in shock, was he… apologizing??? You weren’t sure how to react, especially since you weren’t sure you’d ever seen your captain apologize even if he was wrong - he was stubborn in that sense. You took a deep breath and then swallowed thickly, “It’s… okay.” You whispered out, you didn’t mean for your voice to sound so quiet, and silently swore under your breath for how weak your voice even sounded. You noticed how he didn’t even look toward you but you didn’t notice how his whole body tensed up, you slowly lowered your head to look at the ground in defeat. “I thought about how I had acted previously and it was too much, especially between a Captain and his Crew.” You spoke up, wanting to say what you needed before anything.

He snapped to turn to look at you, being greeted with the top of your head pointed in his direction. His eyes widened and he paused as he stared down at you before he took a sharp inhale, reaching over to grab your shoulder causing you to look up at him. “I didn’t mind it.” He admits, that his expression was stern yet his voice almost seemed to falter at the admission and he could feel his ears beginning to heat up when you made eye contact with him staring up at him with those… eyes. He quickly retracted his hand and subconsciously wiped his hand off against his shirt and then dropped it down to the side of his body, you didn’t take the act as offense as you knew your captain's feelings on physicality, and him even trying to touch you made you feel something.

“Thank you.” You whispered back out to him, your eyes scanning his face and glancing at the pink that had decorated his ear almost giggling before holding it back and swallowing it thickly. You watched as he turned to look away again, his eyes scanning the different books but wasn’t paying attention to what they said, and seemed like he was trying to figure out the words he wanted to say to you. “I wouldn’t mind if you went back to… acting how you did.” He said in almost a whisper, your eyes stared up at the side of his face admiring his jawline and then hair that decorated up to his hair and you felt your whole body heat up by just how attractive your captain truly was. “Yes, Captain.” You respond without a thought before tensing up and looking up to see if what you had said was.. bad timing. He didn’t seem bothered.

“Good.” That was all he said before he suddenly turned around and walked off, leaving you to sit there and process the whole interaction before you started to do a small dance and squeal a little bit. You finally got your spot back to annoying your Captain and he liked you being there, you were thrilled while Law sat in his office with his head in his hands and his face best red from embarrassment at his actions and words. It would take him a while but, he’d get used to you being around. Came to enjoy it and missed it whenever you were busy or gone, often trying to go out of his way to check up on you if you haven’t been around for a long time. The crew didn’t notice at first until maybe a week or two later, they were happy the uneasiness was gone now but there was another issue…. the way that their captain was acting with you was foreign.

tags: @paraniodidiot @elationa @valval08