#and she likes to play a little game called

[ot3]

top 10 pokemon that are girls

'gender'.... much like 'animals' this is a concept from our world that has made itself present in the pokemon franchise. all pokemon began having genders (except for the ones that don't) in the second generation of games, in order to facilitate the pokemon breeding mechanic which has become a staple of the main series

you may think this means the issue of which pokemon are girls and which ones aren't is already settled. but do we really trust game freak to be the deciding voices on this one? i certainly don't. so here's a nonexhaustive look at some pokemon that are doing their best to be role models for young women everywhere who have been picking up and enjoying these games for decades.

#10 - NIDORAN♀

Not only is Nidoran♀ canonically a girl, she is the first pokemon to be canonically a girl as the gender distinction between Nidoran types predates the introduction of gen 2's breeding system that gendered all pokemon. she broke the glass ceiling, and for this we salute her.

#9 - KANGASKHAN

Both culturally and in media single mothers are subject to a lot of scrutiny and scorn, but kangaskhan breaks the mold. powerful, responsible, yet loving and joy-filled. the look on her baby's face tells us all we need to know; she holds on tight to the pouch, clinging to the safety she knows her mother can give her, but gazes awestruck and wide-eyed at the world around her, knowing its wonders will be there waiting for her as soon as she feels ready for it.

#8 - CELESTEELA

Technically, celesteela's gender is 'unknown', but it's obvious that celesteela represents what life can look like for a woman who truly has it all. As one of the largest and heaviest pokemon ever discovered, she's not afraid to take up space. she doesn't feel the need to soften herself to be more accepted by the world around her, but she's also comfortable enough with her feminine side to let it shine through where and when she wants. nobody tells her how to live her life but her and also she has big lazers

#7 - MISMAGIUS

Well she's not called MISTER magius now, is she?

#6 - LYCANROC

Perfect embodiment of the wolfgirl you knew (or, perhaps were?) in middleschool. There are many doglike/canine pokemon in the dex, but something about lycanroc's exaggerated unkempt mane and lanky, awkward posture evokes the physicality of a teenager who exists as a beast beyond the boundaries of her own body.

#5 - CHIKORITA

This saultry little binch...

#4 - RAYQUAZA

It's an uncomfortable truth in life that many women find themselves in the position of needing to play the mediator in order to stop the people around them from acting in destructive or harmful ways. But just because mediating conflict can be a difficult and unfair position to be put into, that doesn't mean it's a bad thing. Rayquaza just goes to show us all everywhere how a real woman can still thrive under these circumstances, doing her best to build a more peaceful world while not letting that push her into the shadows or make her take a back seat in her own life. she is a community leader and an innovator.

#3 - SALAZZLE

She's the archetypal femme fatale. A dominatrix. A baddie. Does she make me uncomfortable? Yes, absolutely. But I'm not a furry so I'm not really the target audience of what's happening here.

#2 - SLAKING

I know so many butches who look exactly like her. you love to see it.

#1 - MEWTWO

as one feminist philosopher has said: "I see now that the circumstances of one's birth is irrelevant, it is what you do with the gift of life that determines who you are."

I think any woman living in a patriarchal society can sympathize with mewtwo's story. enraged at being treated like the property of the people who created her rather than her own fully realized person, she goes on a rampage where it quickly becomes obvious that she is even more powerful than that what she was originally created in the image of. Although this takes her down a dark path, she eventually learns to self-actualize by working on herself rather than pointlessly lashing out at people who had nothing to do with hurting her. it's empowering stuff. doubly empowering because she killed all those clowns who DID hurt her

now, of course, there are plenty more pokemon that are girls than just what i've listed here today. but i hope youve learned a little something from this.

[requiemforthepoets]

you just pulled a verstappen! 𖦹 LN4

PAIRINGS: lando norris x female!reader

SUMMARY: you played a sim racing before, but not really on an actual sim racing setup like lando’s. so when you had the chance, you decided to try it out.

REMINDERS: this is purely fiction, the way how the character is portrayed in my story does not reflect the person that is portraying my character in real life. always separate fiction from reality, and do not repost or copy my work in any way.

WARNINGS: no use of y/n, fluff, and a little bit of cursing

WORD COUNT: 820

AUTHOR’S NOTE: found this on my drafts. i have a lot of lando one shots, but never really posted it bc i think it was poorly written, so i decided to fix this one up and post it. i hope you’ll enjoy this one!

Your and Lando’s apartment was unusually quiet. Lando had been out all day, caught up in a string of meetings, and being alone in a big apartment, the boredom had started to creep in. You sighed, glancing over at Lando’s pristine sim racing setup, which sat there like a tempting invitation calling out for you. It wasn’t like you had not played sim racing before, but using his rig, specifically with Lando’s custom settings and all his tweaks? That was something else entirely.

“Eh, why the hell not?” You muttered to yourself with a mischievous grin.

You quickly booted-up Lando’s setup, and you were off. You found yourself in the middle of a tense Grand Prix, the roaring of the virtual engines filling up the headphones as you become very absorbed with the race. Time flew by, and you were too focused to even notice when Lando came home.

“Hey, baby! I’m back!” Lando’s voice echoed faintly from the hallways as he called back to you, and you never responded. All you could hear and think about was the hairpin turn coming up on the circuit, and nailing the turn. “Babe, where are you?” He called out to you again, but you were still glued to the screen, the intensity of the race drawing all of your attention.

A few seconds later, Lando still got no answer from you. So when he checked every room in the apartment, and saw that you were inside his gaming room all along, he entered immediately, but when he saw you, he stopped dead in his tracks. There you were, fully immersed in sim racing, eyes locked on the screen with his headphones on and hand deftly handling the steering wheel. He blinked, half in disbelief, before grinning like a little kid on christmas morning.

“Are you on my sim setup right now?” He asked, voice full of shock, but you were too busy overtaking another car to reply.

“Okay, that was a decent corner,” Lando said with a playful smirk as he walked over to you, leaning against the back of the chair. “Not bad at all.” He added, folding his arms, and watching in awe as you navigated through the pack of cars.

You heard him, of course, but you were in the zone. The next thing you knew, you pulled off a move that would have made Max proud, sliding past two cars with precision that even caught Lando off guard.

“Whoa, that was a Verstappen move!” Lando exclaimed, wide-eyed. “You just did a Verstappen! Are you sure you don’t want to join F1? Because honestly, what the hell was that?!”

A smirk just tugged at the corner of your lips, definitely proud of yourself, but you remained focused, determined to finish the race without breaking concentration. Lando couldn’t help but laugh at your intense expression.

“Alright, I need to record this one,” Lando chuckled, pulling out his phone. “No one’s gonna believe me if I told everyone on Thread that my girl just pulled a Verstappen move, unless I post it.”

“Look at this! My girl’s out here stealing my setup and driving like she’s been on F1!” Lando began as he started filming, making sure to capture the moment as you powered through the final lap, and zooming in on your face, grinning the whole time. “Guys, I’m telling you, I’m not really making this up. She’s actually faster than me on some of these corners!”

You barely heard him as you crossed the finish line, finishing in P1, and the sound of the crowd roaring through the headphones as you finally relaxed in the chair. You let out a squeal of happiness and looked over at Lando, who was still recording and shaking his head in disbelief.

“Okay, what was that?” He laughed at you, turning off the camera. “I leave for a few hours, and suddenly you’re doing Verstappen-level moves on my rig? Are you secretly practicing whenever I’m not home?”

“Maybe I’m just naturally talented, ever think of that?” You looked at him smugly, and wiggled your eyebrows as you teased him.

“You know what?” Lando grinned at you, gently pulling you out of the seat and wrapping his arms around you. “I believe it. I’m just saying, if McLaren ever needs a backup driver, you should really think about it.”

“Babe, that’s Pato’s job, and I won’t take that away from him,” you joked, causing Lando to laugh, and you leaned into his embrace. “I’m just kidding! But…I might steal your sim setup more often.”

“Deal,” Lando chuckled, kissing your forehead. “Just don’t make me look too bad, alright?”

“No promises.” You said cheekily, then grinning up at him.

“Alright, alright,” he smiled at you. “Now where’s my kiss.” You leaned in, and kissed him softly on the lips.

[littlelamy]

PLEASEE dad Rafe where the reader is like a Pilates mom trophy wife, and she and Rafe have kids and UGHHHHHHHH traditional rich family the kind Rafe would have.

⭐️i love making little moodboards for this theme so disregard if you dont like it, but i hope you enjoy! ⭐️

rafe pulls up in the blacked-out suv, the engine a low, contented hum as he steps out, shoulders squared, exuding that effortless confidence that still sends a spark through you. the sun dips lower in the sky, casting golden rays over the sprawling lawn as the kids burst out, laughing and calling back to him, backpacks slung carelessly over their shoulders. they race each other toward the house, shouting over who gets the last snack in the pantry, and rafe just shakes his head, watching with that quiet pride that’s become second nature to him.

you’re settled by the pool, lounging on one of the cushioned chairs with your favorite oversized sunglasses perched on your nose, a fresh iced latte in hand. you’re fresh from pilates, dressed in a crisp white athleisure set that rafe has already told you he loves—a little too much, given the look he’s giving you right now. you pull your sunglasses down, meeting his gaze with a smile that’s just for him.

he saunters over, hands sliding into the pockets of his perfectly tailored pants. the sun catches in his hair, bringing out the few strands of blonde that the summer hadn’t quite left behind. there’s a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth, that warm gleam in his eyes, hinting at that wild edge that he still carries, even now. and it’s there, in that look, that you see how completely wrapped up in you he still is.

“hey, stranger,” you murmur, lifting your drink in a silent toast as he drops into the chair next to you, leaning close enough that you can catch his aftershave, something dark and woodsy. you see his gaze flicker over you, taking in every detail like he’s still half-surprised by the life you both built.

“missed you today,” he says, voice low and sweet. you give a playful shrug, pretending not to notice how his hand casually finds yours, warm fingers threading between yours, the way he’s always done.

you shake your head, leaning back and giving a little sigh, mock-serious. “all i did was pilates and a trip to the club, rafe,” you tease. “how’d you survive without me?”

his laugh is quiet, but you catch that glint in his eye. “barely,” he says, thumb tracing gentle circles along the side of your hand, a gesture so natural you barely even notice it anymore. he pauses, looking out at the kids, who are now a blur in the distance, likely digging around for snacks or on their way to the game room. and it’s in that moment—just the two of you with the day slipping into evening—that you feel the absolute certainty he has in this life, in the family you’ve built.

you turn to him, watching as his gaze softens, and there’s something that pulls at your heart, this deep, endless feeling he has for you, even after all these years. you’re the perfect vision of his world, a pilates-mom trophy wife, the gleaming pool and manicured lawn the backdrop to a life that’s both beautiful and grounded, something he never knew he wanted until he had it. and yet, in his gaze, it’s so clear how much he appreciates every inch of it.

“think i’m going to make something special for dinner,” you say, though you both know it’ll be the chef taking care of most of it. but the idea of you, his wife, planning out dinner like this is exactly the sort of scene he loves—a glimpse of something tender and old-fashioned, just for the two of you.

he grins, giving you that lopsided smile. “save some time for me afterward?”

“always,” you reply, resting your head on his shoulder as the sun dips low. it’s not the first time you’ve had this moment, and it won’t be the last—but that’s exactly what makes it so perfect.

he’s quiet for a moment, eyes still tracing the outline of your face before his hand slides around to the back of your neck, pulling you in close for a slow kiss. his lips press into yours with that intensity that still makes your heart race, like he’s savoring every second, every touch.

when he pulls back, his gaze is a shade darker, playful but serious all at once. he lowers his voice. “the kids aren’t here, you know.”

your heart flutters, and you bite back a smile. “they’re just inside,” you murmur, a teasing note in your voice.

“exactly. not here.” his hand drifts down your arm, sending a shiver through you as he smirks, voice dropping lower. “and, by the way… that little package you ordered just came in.” his fingers trace along your wrist, up your arm, igniting little sparks of excitement. “saw it in the bedroom.”

you feign a casual shrug, but the look in his eyes makes it impossible to keep the smile from your face. “oh? did it now?” you ask, feigning innocence. “must have slipped my mind.”

he laughs softly, his thumb brushing across your cheek as his gaze roams over you, lingering in a way that makes you feel like the only woman in the world. “you knew exactly what you were doing,” he murmurs, voice tinged with admiration and something else—something wild. he leans in, his lips just grazing your ear as he whispers, “think you could model it for me later?”

your cheeks warm, and you feel your pulse quicken, unable to hide your grin. “if you think you can keep the kids distracted…”

his smirk widens, a promise in his gaze. “i’ll figure something out,” he says, his voice filled with that familiar mischief. he presses another kiss to your lips, lingering just long enough to leave you breathless, anticipation simmering between you as the sun sinks lower, casting long shadows over the beautiful life you’ve built together.

taglist: @namelesslosers @princessslutt @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @starkeysprincess @sixrosberg @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0 @kissrotten @rafecameroninterlude @sstargirln

[alinedreams]

It's really hard to rupture with this when people are indoctrinated by it before they're even born.

From the moment the ultrasound exam is scheduled and reveals which baby parts the fetus is going to have.

From the moment the parents decide to throw a gender reveal party to expose which genitals their babies will have.

From the moment the baby showers are all about pink for girls and blue for boys.

From the moment of birth, where little girls have their little ears pierced and little intersex people are already mutilated into dyadistic ideals, obviously all without their consents, as they cannot yet consent.

From the moment they're still learning how to speak and walk and parents already want to indoctrinate them on which words are fine for boys or girls and even how differently they may walk.

From the moment they're in kindergarten and "little girls shouldn't get dirty" and "little boys hit girls because they like them".

From the moment they're a little bit older and "girls cannot climb up trees, you have to be feminine and wear dresses and boys can see your panties this way" and "put a little mirror on your shoes so you can see girls' panties; look upstairs when they're going up, that's also very funny".

From the moment they're preteens and "you're already a young lady, you should learn how to cook and clean your house and wear makeup and mature faster so men can date you" and "you're still young, just play games and enjoy life, women will do everything for you anyway, that's what they're born for, to serve us; you can date younger girls when you're older".

From the moment they're teens and "you're very mature for your age and there's no problem in dating older men who will teach you do be a proper wife, but make sure to take your pills so you don't get pregnant, but if you do, you'll raise those kids and get by just fine, all women are meant to be mothers anyway" and "you don't really need to worry about adulthood and fatherhood just yet, if girls get pregnant it's their fault for not taking care of themselves".

From the moment they're adults and "why aren't you married yet? the biological clock is ticking! nevermind he's not a good man who will hit you, maybe it's not your fault you're not a good wife for him, we're supposed to serve them. And if no one wants to date you, it's your fault for being ugly and undesirable and crazy and just not enough and too much at once!" and "women have an expiration date and we do not, you can date them young and throw them away once they hit 25, getting a younger girl. if you can't do it, you're an incel loser and it's women's fault for not realizing they're being played by older divorced men anyway, lol"

From the moment they're aging and "well, you're getting old, of course no man will want you! If you had kids, take care of your grandkids and hope your kids will take care of you. If you haven't, you'll die lonely and sad and homeless and no one will care because you deserve it!" and "well, you're aging like fine wine, go get some younger girls, they love older men, go spread your seed and tame some little rebels and get your coquettish and demure little tradgirls"

Up to the moment they're dead and others are like "She was a good mother and wife" or "She was a weird old hag who never got married and led a sad selfish life" and "He was a great man, very brave and cool and he got to bang all the hot girls" or "He was a curmudgeon weakling who never could get himself some good little woman to call his".

It's really darn hard to change when you're being hit with this brainwashing and critiquing nonsense from before you were born until after you're already dead.

And I've lost all hope to see it change, because it keeps rebranding itself as "self-care" and "true manhood" and "little jokes" and "the weak will die and be weeded out and you're not week" and so on.

It's inescapable, it's the one thing that might never end, not even after we're standing atop the smouldering ashes of Capitalism.

It's present in almost all societies, since almost the beginning of our species.

And, from the looks of it, almost no one WANTS it to end, no matter how much it makes them suffer.

Because having it end would make their delusional feelings of "I'm strong and superior and others are weak and inferior" or of "I'm good so I will be rewarded in the afterlife" crumble like it's a delicate sandcastle built out of lies.

So... Those who want to escape it will either have to endure being criticized and hurt or will have to just seek escape through death, be it by suicide or by being too noisy of a rebel to continue being let live.

Because, see, something that has been around since the beginning of times will HARDLY be collectively dismantled from night to day, if at all.

gen z has to reckon with its radicalization problem. you are not a morally pure and superior generation of youth come to save the world, your men and boys are radicalized at an unprecedented level and you ignore it because it’s too hard to address but you have to. these boys are in your classes, they date your friends, you know them and you cannot continue to pretend this is an “old white guy” problem

[mapis-putellas]

𝑾𝒉𝒐 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖?

Pairing: Alexia Putellas x reader

Words: 1600+

Warnings: none

Summary: You prank on Alexia by pretending to lose your memory. Her reaction was…well, way more adorable than you were expecting.

While biking with Alexia was always a blast, you had an extra plan for this sunny afternoon. You'd decided that today was the perfect day for a little prank — nothing too mean, just something to mess with her. You grinned to yourself as you watched her up ahead, pedaling easily and glancing back to make sure you were keeping up. You pedaled harder to catch up, laughing to yourself at what was about to go down.

Suddenly, you pretended to lose control and threw yourself to the ground with an exaggerated groan.

"Ahhh!" you cried dramatically, flopping onto the grass by the side of the trail. Alexia, as you expected, immediately stopped her bike, worry flashing across her face.

"Mi amor!" she called, practically jumping off her bike and sprinting over to you. She knelt by your side, her hands gentle as she brushed the hair from your face. "Are you okay? Did you... hurt? Show me!"

You blinked a few times, looking up at her with a dazed expression. "Um... sorry, who are you?" You made sure to sound confused, biting back a laugh at her shocked expression.

Her eyes widened in panic. "Que?" She put a hand on your shoulder, her gaze searching your face with concern. "Amor, it's me! Alexia."

You blinked again, trying to look utterly bewildered. "Alexia? Sorry, I... I don't really know who that is."

She froze, her eyes growing huge. "No... no, no, no," she muttered, now kneeling down so that her face was inches from yours. "I'm... I'm Alexia. Your novia. Your... your girlfriend?"

You tilted your head, looking at her curiously. "You're my... girlfriend?" You let out a surprised chuckle, trying to make it sound half-nervous. "You're sure about that?"

"Si, yes!" She nodded vigorously, grabbing your hands. "We live together. We... we love each other."

You furrowed your brows as if trying to piece things together. "So... you and I are a couple?" You tried to hold back your amusement as she stared at you, looking absolutely devastated.

"Yes, yes, we are a couple." Her voice softened, her grip on your hands tightening. "Don't... don't you remember me?"

You shook your head slowly, giving her an exaggeratedly pitiful look. "I... I'm really sorry, but no."

The panic in her eyes was almost too much. She squeezed your hands, bringing them to her chest. "I'm your Alexia, mi amor. We met at a game! You... you don't remember this?"

You shook your head, biting back laughter. "A game? Are you... famous or something?"

Her face turned a little pink, and she gave a shy, frustrated nod. "Sí, um, yes. I play football. For Barcelona. And, um... Spain." She said this as if hoping it would jog your memory. "And... you... you make fun of my English sometimes. You... you laugh at me, remember?"

You blinked at her, trying to keep up the confused act. "I make fun of your English?" You let out a tiny chuckle. "Why would I do that?"

She sighed, glancing away briefly before meeting your gaze again, her face soft and concerned. "Because... because you love me. And you say it's cute. My English."

"Oh... really?" You tilted your head, taking in her flustered expression. "Well, you do have a cute accent, I'll give you that." You winked, and she let out a relieved little laugh, squeezing your hands.

"See? I am cute." She tried a smile, though her worry hadn't faded. "And... I love you, a lot. So you must remember, sí?"

You pretended to think hard, then shook your head, looking up at her with a small frown. "I... I don't remember. But you do seem nice. And pretty.”

Her cheeks turned pink again, but she gave you a nervous smile. "Thank you," she murmured, glancing down at your hands in hers. "Maybe... maybe it's, how you say, temporary? Like in movies?" She perked up a bit. "You... you hit your head?"

You nodded thoughtfully, trying to keep a serious face. "Maybe? I mean, everything's a bit foggy..."

She nodded back, visibly gathering herself. "Okay. We... we can fix this," she muttered, more to herself than to you. Then she took a deep breath, looking at you with that determined, captain-like gaze. "I tell you about us, okay? You will remember."

You shrugged, letting her go on. "Alright. Tell me about... us."

She took a deep breath, her face now slightly pink. "Well... we met one year ago. You came to a game, Barcelona against Atletico." Her eyes lit up a bit, a small smile appearing. "You told me you didn't know football very much, but you... you liked watching us play."

You squinted at her as if trying to remember, though you were honestly just mesmerized by how passionate she was getting. "Did I say that?"

She nodded enthusiastically. "Yes! You said... how do you say... that we were... inspiring?" She looked at you, hopeful. "You say that, yes?"

"Hmm... that does sound like something I'd say," you mused, nodding.

"Good!" She smiled in relief. "And then we went to... um, what's the place? With the..." She made a motion of eating, clearly struggling to remember the English word.

"A restaurant?" you offered, keeping up the act but feeling a bit guilty at how invested she was in telling the story.

"Yes! A restaurant!" She nodded quickly. "And you told me... you like my smile. And... and I like yours. I think you are very beautiful." Her voice softened at the end, her eyes warm as she looked at you.

You pretended to blush, looking away for a moment before glancing back at her with a shy smile. "You really thought that?"

She nodded, her face lighting up with the sweetest, most genuine smile. "Sí. Very much. And... we laughed, a lot." She squeezed your hands again. "You laugh at my English. And you teach me new words."

"Oh, like what?" you asked, tilting your head with a smirk.

Her cheeks flushed. "Um... cheeky. You say I am cheeky." She grinned, clearly pleased with herself. "And... um, you call me... 'cute'... and sometimes, um, 'lovebug'?"

You couldn't help but smile at that. "I call you lovebug?"

She nodded, her eyes filled with hope and affection. "Sí, it's my... nickname." She reached up, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "And you... you say you love my... 'determination'? Yes, that word."

You had to bite your lip to keep from laughing, trying to stay in character. "And... you're sure we're a couple?"

Her face grew serious as she leaned closer. "I am sure. We are... very in love, you and me. And... and you even say I am 'the love of your life.'" Her cheeks turned red again, but she didn't break eye contact.

Your heart melted a bit at her words, feeling a sudden pang of guilt for messing with her so thoroughly. But you decided to push just a little further, if only to see that flustered look one more time.

"Hmm... that does sound familiar," you murmured, reaching out to brush a thumb over her cheek, making her blush deepen. "But... maybe I need one more thing to really jog my memory."

She blinked, tilting her head in confusion. "What... what do you need?"

You gave her a playful grin. "Maybe... a kiss?"

Her eyes went wide for a moment, and she glanced around, as if wondering if anyone could see you two by the side of the trail. But then she gave you a soft smile, her eyes filled with warmth and love. "Sí... of course."

She leaned in, her lips meeting yours in the softest, sweetest kiss. You could feel the sincerity and tenderness in every moment, the way she cupped your face as if she was afraid you'd disappear. When she finally pulled back, her cheeks were red, but she looked at you with a spark of hope.

"Did it... did it work?" she whispered, her voice barely above a breath.

You smiled, letting out a quiet laugh. "Yeah... I think it worked." You couldn't keep up the act any longer, the warmth in her eyes making your heart feel like it could burst. "How could I forget you, lovebug?"

For a moment, she just stared at you, her face a mix of relief and realization. And then her eyes narrowed, her hands still holding yours, but her grip tightening just a bit.

"Wait..." She gave you a suspicious look. "You... you remember me all the time?"

You couldn't help but let out a laugh, sheepishly nodding. "Maybe..."

Her mouth fell open, and she stared at you in disbelief. "You... you lie to me?" She slapped your arm lightly, half-annoyed but clearly relieved. "I think you... you forget me! You... you are so mean!"

You laughed, reaching out to pull her into a hug, grinning as she half-heartedly pushed you away. "I'm sorry! I just wanted to see what you'd say!"

She let out an exasperated sigh, though you could see the smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "Ay, you make me so worried!" But she couldn't stay mad, and a small smile finally broke through. "You are lucky I love you, sí?"

You grinned, leaning in to kiss her cheek. "I know. And for the record, I remember every little detail about you. I just love hearing you talk about us.”

She huffed, crossing her arms but looking a little pleased. "I am glad you... like my English. Even if you laugh at me."

You wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close as you both sat back down in the grass. "Laughing is just my way of loving you, you know that."

Her face softened as she leaned into you, resting her head on your shoulder. "Sí... I know. But next time, I prank you. This... is promise.

You chuckled, squeezing her hand. "I'd love to see you try, lovebug."

**

Tags:

@ceesimz @marysfics @girlgenius1111 @codiemarin @silentwolfsstuff @goldenempyrean @xxnaiaxx @liloandstitchstan

[writingbuckets]

The Hot Take: Part 2

paige bueckers x influencer!reader

wc: 1.7k

a/n: thanks so much for the kind messages on part 1! enjoy <3

**********

You can feel the energy in the arena even from the parking lot. Fans are buzzing, and you catch glimpses of them sporting jerseys and waving signs in support of Paige and her teammates. There’s a spark of excitement mixed with nerves in your stomach as you make your way to the courtside seats Paige promised.

You glance down at the ticket she sent you through DM with a wry smile. It’s a little surreal, actually being here. The back-and-forth messages with Paige left you curious and maybe a little too interested in seeing her play. Overrated, you’d said. Well, tonight she’d get the chance to prove you wrong.

As you settle into your seat, you text Taylor to let her know you’ve arrived. She’s responds in caps “EXCITED FOR YOU”, sending laughing emojis and a “TRY NOT TO FALL IN LOVE, Y/N.”

In the locker room, Paige’s teammates are already in pre-game mode, stretching and reviewing plays, but Azzi catches sight of Paige checking her phone for the third time in five minutes. She grins knowingly, nudging Jana beside her.

“Okay, what’s up with you?” Azzi asks Paige with a teasing tone. “You’ve got that look.”

Paige pretends not to know what she’s talking about, tucking her phone away with a smirk. “What look?”

“Don’t play coy. This is a new level of focus even for you,” Jana chimes in, eyeing her with mock seriousness. “It wouldn’t have anything to do with your biggest critic being courtside tonight, would it?”

Paige rolls her eyes but can’t hide the grin tugging at the corner of her mouth. “Just trying to make sure she gets her money’s worth,” she says with a shrug. “Not every day you get a ‘critique’ from someone who’s never even seen you play live.”

KK, who’s been stretching nearby, perks up, catching the last part of the conversation. “Wait, is this the podcaster?” She laughs, sitting up and pointing at Paige. “The one who called you overrated? Oh, this is too good.”

“Yeah, we’ve been talking a little,” Paige admits, trying to sound casual but clearly enjoying the reaction from her friends.

Morgan snickers. “Talking, huh? I don’t think she meant that comment as an invitation, Paige.”

Paige gives a mock glare. “Please. She’s practically begging to be impressed.”

Aubrey chuckles, crossing her arms. “Just don’t get too distracted out there, superstar. She might be here to see you crash and burn.”

Paige laughs and waves them off, but there’s an undeniable confidence in her tone. “Oh, trust me. She’s not ready for what she’s about to see.”

**********

You watch the team make their entrance, the crowd roaring as each player is introduced. When Paige is called, the noise is almost deafening, and you find yourself instinctively clapping along, even as you try to stay cool.

Finally, the game starts. Within moments, it’s clear why Paige has all the attention. She commands the court with ease, weaving around defenders with a blend of grace and intensity that makes it hard to look away. Every shot, every pass—it’s like she’s putting on a show, and with each move, she glances your way, her gaze almost daring you to look impressed.

You catch her eye after she lands a particularly smooth three-pointer, and she gives a slight smirk, as if to say, Not bad, huh?

You raise an eyebrow, mouthing back, “Still not impressed.”

In response, she grins and picks up her pace, dominating every play with a flair that seems designed to taunt you. The more you watch, the more you find yourself pulled into the game, barely noticing the time passing. But every so often, her eyes find yours, and it’s like the entire arena fades away for just a moment.

The final buzzer sounds, and Paige’s team wins by a comfortable margin. As the players cool down and talk to the press, she sends a quick look in your direction, clearly reveling in her victory. She approaches the sidelines, her teammates trailing behind and giving her little nudges and knowing looks.

Azzi shoots you a cheeky grin as she passes. “Hey, thanks for coming. Glad Paige had her own personal cheerleader tonight.”

Jana adds with a laugh, “More like underrated, huh?”

Before you can respond, Paige strides up, wiping sweat from her brow and grinning with that signature self-assurance.

“So?” she says, folding her arms and looking at you expectantly. “Any thoughts from my favorite hater?”

You keep your expression neutral, even as your pulse quickens under her direct gaze. “Not bad. You almost looked like you knew what you were doing out there.”

She laughs, shaking her head. “Almost? That’s high praise coming from you.”

You shrug, tilting your head thoughtfully. “Guess I’ll have to watch a few more games to make sure it wasn’t a fluke.”

Her eyes light up at that. “Oh, so you’re coming back?”

“Only if you keep up that level of play,” you reply, not missing a beat. “I’d hate to waste my time.”

Her teammates are still hovering nearby, soaking up the banter with matching grins.

KK gives Paige a nudge. “Careful, Bueckers. I think she’s starting to like you.”

“Wouldn’t be the first,” Paige quips, giving you a sidelong glance. “Some people just need a little convincing.”

You raise an eyebrow, leaning forward slightly. “You think you’ve convinced me?”

“Not yet,” she admits, a teasing challenge in her eyes. “But I think I’m close.”

You can’t help but laugh, enjoying the back-and-forth more than you’d like to admit. She’s good at this—smooth, confident, and annoyingly charming. And the way she keeps looking at you, with that mix of amusement and intrigue, makes it harder to stick to your original opinion.

As the conversation winds down, you start to think about heading out. But before you can make a move, Paige’s voice cuts through your thoughts.

“So, a few of us are grabbing food to celebrate,” she says casually, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. “You should come. Unless, of course, you have better things to do?”

Her eyes are challenging, and you can feel her teammates watching you, clearly curious to see what you’ll say. Part of you wants to play it cool, brush it off, but there’s a bigger part that’s intrigued, drawn to the idea of spending more time with her.

“Why not?” you reply, keeping your tone light. “Could be interesting.”

She grins, giving her teammates a triumphant look before gesturing for you to follow.

The group heads to a local spot where they’re regulars, filling up a large booth with laughter and chatter. You find yourself seated next to Paige, who’s now relaxed and fully in her element, her focus entirely on you.

“So, tell me,” she says, leaning in as she sips her drink. “What made you think I wasn’t as good as people say?”

You shrug, pretending to think hard. “I think some players need to be humbled sometimes. Keeps things balanced.”

“Oh, really?” She smirks. “So you’re, like, the self-appointed hype police?”

“If that’s what it takes.” You give her a challenging look. “And, judging by your performance, I think you’re taking my job pretty seriously.”

She laughs, shaking her head. “Maybe I just like proving people wrong.”

Aubrey, who’s overheard, chimes in with a grin. “Yeah, Paige is kind of a show-off when it comes to impressing people.”

Paige rolls her eyes, but she’s clearly enjoying the attention. “Hey, I like a challenge.”

You lean back, folding your arms as you meet her gaze. “Good to know. Might have to challenge you more often, then.”

The night goes on, filled with jokes, teasing, and the undeniable chemistry simmering between you and Paige. Her teammates keep throwing her looks, nudging her when she gets too obvious with her attention, but she brushes them off with ease.

By the end of the night, you’re more than a little curious about where this dynamic might lead. Paige, it turns out, isn’t just an incredible player—she’s clever, competitive, and, as much as you hate to admit it, a lot of fun to be around.

As you say your goodbyes and head out, she catches your arm, pulling you back for one last exchange.

“So,” she murmurs, her voice low, “can I ask for your opinion on me now?”

You meet her gaze, a slow smile spreading across your face. “ I’ll tell you when you make an appearance on the show.”

She laughs, nodding as she steps back. “You can count on it.”

You linger a moment, savoring the playfulness in her tone and the easy confidence in her smile. Her teammates start calling her over, and you see her hesitate, glancing between you and her friends. It’s almost as if she’s weighing her next move, and the idea that Paige Bueckers might actually be a little reluctant to end the night brings a grin to your face.

“Better go before they start making up embarrassing stories about you,” you say with a nod toward her friends, who are watching the two of you with unabashed interest.

She chuckles, eyes glinting with something mischievous. “Don’t worry, they don’t have any dirt on me… yet.”

“Oh, so you’re planning on giving them some?” you shoot back.

Paige tilts her head thoughtfully. “Only if it’s worth it.” Her voice is low, suggestive, and you can’t ignore the electric undertone beneath her words. She glances toward the exit, then back at you, taking a small step closer. “But, you know… I wouldn’t mind getting to know my ‘biggest hater” a little better.”

Her words hang in the air, and you feel your pulse quicken. There’s a part of you that wants to keep this light, play it cool, but another part—a part you’re not fully ready to admit yet—is undeniably intrigued by her invitation.

With a playful smile, you shrug. “Maybe you’ll earn that chance. If you’re lucky.”

Her laughter rings out, bright and clear. “I think I make my own luck.”

You offer her a mock salute. “We’ll see about that, superstar.”

As you turn to leave, you feel her gaze on you, lingering, as though she’s already planning her next move. And as you step out of the restaurant, the night air feels different—charged with possibility. You’ve seen a side of Paige that few get to see, and it’s clear this game of wit and challenge between you isn’t over yet.

But for now, you head home, wondering what exactly you’ve gotten yourself into.

[meazalykov]

platonic?

catarina macario x younger!uswnt!reader

summary: your admiration for the older woman turns into a crush

warnings: three year age gap, long chapter

you are twenty-two lacing up for the next game with chelsea, the weight of the blue jersey settling around you like armor.  

this wasn’t new; you’d been doing this since seventeen, since you were a kid at the world cup, barely knowing how to handle all the pressure the world threw at you while winning one of the best trophies a footballer can have. 

somehow, you’d found yourself. at the end of 2019 you went on loan to lyon from gotham, ready to prove your talent to the best audience. 

you weren’t exactly alone though—there was catarina.

being eighteen when you first met catarina, fresh-faced and wide-eyed, you stepped into the lyon training grounds with the kind of awe you couldn’t hide. 

you were on loan, adjusting to life in a new country with a language you barely spoke, and everything felt monumental, as if even the smallest mistakes would echo. 

catarina, twenty-one, was already established and calm, someone who seemed to carry the weight of experience with ease– especially for someone who was young herself. 

she spotted you from across the pitch during your first training session, a quick flash of recognition in her smile as she walked over, her strides confident and sure. 

“hey!!! you’re from new york, right?” she asked, her tone light but curious, that american accent instantly grounding.

“yeah,” you replied, trying not to seem too overwhelmed.

“just... here for a season, you know?”

she grinned. 

“good. i was starting to miss american familiarity here.”

from that moment, a kind of natural mentorship developed between you. 

the three-year difference felt both small and huge; it wasn’t just the age, but the way she carried herself, the calm authority of someone who’d already figured a few things out. in frace, you could go with her anywhere. in america, she was allowed to attend the 21+ places while you had to stay behind with the young national teammates in the hotel rooms. 

little did you know, catarina knew what it was like to leave home for a career, to adapt, and maybe she saw a bit of herself in you, struggling to find your place.

you noticed the steady way she’d watch you on the field, the way she’d wait until after training to approach, giving pointers with a casual tone that softened the critique. 

“you’re trying to force the pass too soon. the forward could never get it without the defender clearing it away,” she’d say once, tossing you the ball after practice as you wiped the sweat off of your forehead with the blue lyon training kit. 

“take a breath, let the play build.”

she’d take the time to show you, positioning you on the field, demonstrating how to look for space, to feel the tempo of the game like it was a second pulse. 

“you’ve got great instincts and speed,” she’d say after you’d gotten it right, her voice warm with approval. 

“just trust them a bit more.”

it wasn’t only on the field that she guided you. early on, when you stumbled over french phrases at cafes or struggled with the simplest exchanges, she’d be there, patient and amused. 

the woman with brazilian ethnicity already knew a few languages. you didn’t, only growing up needing to speak english with very basic levels of spanish. 

sitting in a café with catarina, selma, and amandine–you squinted down at the menu, wrestling with a word that looked more intimidating than it probably was. 

“i can never get this one,” you muttered, half to yourself, as she leaned over your shoulder with a quiet smile.

“that one’s croque-monsieur,” she said, saying it slowly. 

“it’s like fancy– what do you guys call it, grilled cheese?” selma grinned with her strong french accent as you looked at catarina with suspicion. 

“she's right. you’ll like it, trust us.”

“croque-mon-seur?” you tried. all of the girls laughed while catarina started shaking her head. 

“you’ll get it,” she said, giving you a light nudge. 

as weeks turned into months, her presence became something you leaned on without realizing. she’d taken on this mentor role easily, with the kind of warmth that let you feel less alone in a new place. 

she taught you bits of french, not only in words but in the quiet encouragement she offered, like the language itself was something you could share.

on the field, you started to shadow her during drills, watching how she played as an attacking mid—the same position as you. you found yourself asking questions, hungry to learn more even with skill abnormal for a youngster.

cata always answered with that patient tone, never making you feel as though you were asking too much.

during national breaks, there's always a different energy. a familiar choas you’ve come to love since being called up in the 2019 world cup. 

being back with the uswnt squad feels like stepping visiting old friends– because you are. catarina is steady, and calm. on the national team though, you’re usually the one starting over her, especially as the attacking mid, unlike at lyon due to the amount of caps you have over the woman that's older than you. 

she never lets any jealousy slip, always the first to give a pat on the back or a quiet word of praise that lingers more than it probably should.

the locker room screams with excitement before the friendly against portugal, and you’re tying up your signature purple boots, mentally running through the plays. 

suddenly, cat is sitting beside you, her familiar grin softening the tension that’s been settling in your shoulders. maybe its her hands resting your shoulders too.

“you look ready to score a hat trick today,” she murmurs, nudging your shoulder. 

“don’t push it,” you laugh. 

“starting lineup, a vet on the team. you notice how much the coaches and the staff trust you, huh?”

you manage a smile, a bit of heat creeping to your face. 

“they’re trusting me to just... you know, not mess it up too bad.”

she scoffs lightly, her hand moving down to rest on your arm. 

“y/n, you’re seriously too humble,” she says, voice low and just between the two of you. 

“i’ve watched you since i met you in lyon. you have this... confidence, even when you don’t realize it. you don’t just belong here; you are the standard. do you know how insane that is being nineteen years old,” the twenty-two year old rants.

your face feels hot, and you look down, hoping she doesn’t notice the slight blush you can feel creeping up. 

“yeah, well, it’s just pre-game stuff, you know? everyone gets this way.”

she tilts her head, a small smile playing at her lips. 

“sure, if ‘pre-game stuff’ means having every player watching you just to see how it’s done or what to do next.” she moves closer, her voice dropping even lower. 

“you’re more than good, y/n. i’d watch you play any day.”

the words linger, carrying a weight you don’t want to examine too closely. she’s always been supportive, always the first to praise you, but somehow her words feel different today, more intense, and it settles in your chest, creating a strange, fluttering warmth you refuse to acknowledge.

“thanks, cat,” you mumble, fiddling with your shin guard. 

“i just... i appreciate it. and you know, don’t be too complimentary. i still have to actually do my job out there.”

she laughs, soft and genuine, her hand squeezing your arm before pulling away. 

“oh, don’t worry. i’ll be out there to keep you in check if your ego gets too big.”

just as you try to shake off the blush spreading across your cheeks, she leans in, her eyes catching yours in a way that makes it impossible to look away. “but, y/n,” she murmurs, her voice softer, almost affectionate, “don’t hold back out there.” 

you swallow, heart thudding harder than usual. 

“i… yeah. yeah, no holding back.”

she smirks, giving you one last, lingering glance before she walks away, leaving you trying to convince yourself that your racing pulse is just the pre-game jitters.

skipping two months later– you were so happy winning the champions league with lyon. you felt as if you were standing at the peak of everything you’d worked toward.

the final whistle echoed in your ears, your teammates’ arms wrapped around you in victory since you delivered a goal and two assists for the 4-2 win.

right there beside you was catarina, her face alight with that mix of joy and pride that only winning a title brings. the two of you had spent a year pushing each other to new limits, and this—this win felt like the culmination of everything. 

the celebration was wild, electric, stretching late into the night, but a bittersweet feeling hung in the back of your mind. 

you knew what came next: you’d have to return to new york, back to gotham.

a week back in new york, trying to settle back into familiar routines, you still found yourself thinking about lyon, about that feeling of playing on european soil, where the game felt more appreciated. 

the stakes somehow higher. you missed the thrill, the challenge, and most of all, you missed catarina’s presence on the field, her constant encouragement, her quiet, steady influence.

and then the call came from chelsea.

it was unexpected, a five-year contract offered by the london club, and the details? promising—more than you’d hoped for. it was an opportunity to stay in europe, to grow in a league you’d admired from afar, and in that instant, the decision felt like a piece of fate falling into place. 

chelsea felt right, like the next step, and the choice was almost immediate. within days, you found yourself preparing for a new chapter in london.

it’s 2022, and as you settle into your new life in london, there’s a sense of excitement that only grows with each passing day. the new team, the city, the endless possibilities—it feels fresh, like you’re on the edge of something big. 

yet, in quiet moments, you feel a pang of nostalgia for your year in lyon, for the late-night talks with catarina after long training days, the ease of sharing the same field, the bond you’d built. 

at chelsea, you built a good bond with all of your teammates. you’ve gotten to be close friends with lauren while having magda as your mentor. 

you missed catarina though, you had no idea why. she’d been more than just a teammate—she’d been a friend, a mentor, and you knew that her absence at the club level would be felt deeply.

you remind yourself that national breaks aren’t far off. you’ll see her again soon enough, the familiar red, white, and blue kit would be uniting you once more.

at chelsea, your time quickly became more than just playing football; it felt like finding a new family. 

magdalena, with her calm authority and easy smile, became an older sister figure, a presence you leaned on during tough games or even just long training sessions. pernille was right there beside her, offering a comforting mix of humor and insight that kept you grounded. 

together, they were like this solid, reassuring pair, and they had a way of making you feel like you belonged.

emma, your coach, saw something in you which is why she wanted you at the club per her request. she pushes you forward and shapes you into a player who could meet the intensity of the league.

 

her guidance, paired with the steady support of magda and pernille, along with your now bestfriend lauren, helped you grow both on and off the field.

at the end of the 22/23 season, magda and pernille gathered you aside after a practice session, their expressions a bit more serious than usual. magda was the first to speak.

“we wanted you to hear it from us,” she started, giving your arm a light squeeze. 

“pernille and i are… we’re leaving chelsea.”

you blinked, trying to process. 

“wait, leaving? like… transferring?”

pernille nodded, her smile soft but sad. 

“to bayern. it’s… it’s a chance for us to play together in germany, and we felt like this was the right time.”

you felt a pang in your chest, sadness bubbling up because you couldn’t imagine chelsea without them. but you couldn’t hold back a smile either, one that came from genuine happiness for them. 

“i’m gonna miss you both,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper, 

“but i’m so happy you’re doing this together.”

magda pulled you into a hug, her arms warm and steady around you. 

“you’ll always have us, no matter where we go.”

you laughed, hugging them both tightly. 

“and i expect updates… lots of them.”

it wasn’t long after they left when lauren walked up to you one morning in the lounge, an unusual grin on her face.

as you were twirling your iced coffee together, making sure the creamer mixed well with the blonde coffee, lauren stops your wrist with a smirk. 

“heard the news?” lauren asked, a twinkle in her eye.

“what news?” you replied, eyebrows raised as you sit the paper cup down on the counter.

“your friend catarina is coming to chelsea. emma signed her on for a few seasons.”

you laughed, shaking your head. 

“yeah, right, lauren.”

lauren can be a jokster sometimes. however, she crossed her arms, looking far too pleased with herself. 

“seriously. emma wanted her on the team, and cat’s contract with lyon was up. she’ll be here to visit us at training soon.”

the idea sounded impossible, almost surreal. cat, here? with you, at chelsea?

it wasn’t until you saw her stepping onto the training field, a black crossbody bag slung over her shoulder, that it hit you. you froze, hardly believing your eyes until she spotted you, her familiar smile breaking across her face. 

before you knew it, you were running toward her, your feet barely touching the ground as you threw yourself into her arms.

“cat!” you exclaimed, nearly breathless.

she laughed, pulling you into a tight hug. 

“hey! god, it’s good to see you.”

pulling back, making sure to consider her knee injury, you couldn’t help but grin, words spilling out all at once. 

“i can’t believe you’re here! lauren told me, but i thought she was messing with me.”

cat shook her head, her own smile warm and genuine as she holds your waist. 

“nope, it’s real. looks like we’re back on the same team.”

just as you opened your mouth to ask about training together, her expression shifted, a slight grimace.

“i know, but with my knee its going to be a while.”  she hesitated, glancing down at her knee. 

“its alright, you’ll come back stronger!” you smile, your dimples showing as you show catarina around the place before you had to go to training practice. 

six months later– it’s 2024. catarina’s first day to light training feels like an event, with the entire team gathered in the gym to show support for her coming back from an acl injury. 

everyone’s happy, cheering her on as she settles in for her workout. you stand close by, eyes fixed on her as she picks up the barbell, your attention unwavering. this is a huge step for cat, and you want to be there for her.

as cat positions herself to start her barbell step-ups, sjoeke moves in, hands up, ready to help spot her. 

“i got you, cat,” she says with a smile, stepping up beside her.

before you realize it, you’re already speaking, your voice coming out firm, almost a little too quick as you step behind cat beside sjoeke. 

“no, it’s fine, sjo. i’ll help her.” 

sjoeke pauses, raising an eyebrow at your tone, her smile shifting into something almost skeptical. she looks between you and cat, the air thick with a subtle tension. 

“really?” she asks, voice edged with a hint of challenge. 

“because i can spot her, y/n.”

“i don’t mind,” you insist, feeling the warmth creep up your neck, realizing how eager you sound. 

“i can handle it.”

there’s a beat of silence, the weight of your words hanging in the air, and sjoeke’s expression softens, the hint of a smirk playing at the corner of her mouth. her eyes narrow slightly, an amused glint in her gaze as she takes in your stance, the way your attention doesn’t waver from cat. 

she puts her hands up, taking a step back with a knowing look. 

“alright, y/n. she’s all yours.”

the team’s eyes are on you as you step into place beside catarina, your focus sharpening as you move in to spot her. cat glances up, smiling at you. 

“thanks,” she says softly, her eyes warm, trusting.

“anytime,” you murmur, feeling the faintest flicker of nerves as you help steady her. your hands hover near her shoulders, close enough to catch her if needed, your gaze lingering on her face longer than you intended. 

she doesn’t seem to notice, focused on her workout, but you can’t help the way your eyes trace the line of her jaw, the curve of her shoulders, the way her breath deepens with each step up. 

there’s an intimacy in the moment that feels almost palpable, and you struggle to tear your gaze away, as if caught in something you’re not ready to admit to.

from the wall, lauren’s leaning back, watching with a bemused smile as you stay glued to cat’s side, every bit the protective spotter. 

when she catches the way you look at cat, something just a bit too intense, she comes over to you after you finish helping cat.

“so,” lauren starts, her voice a low murmur, 

“what’s with that look?”

you shoot her a glance, brushing it off. 

“what look?”

she raises an eyebrow, grinning. 

“you’re looking at her like she’s a piece of cheesecake or some shit?”

“i don’t know,” you mutter, shrugging, trying to keep your tone casual, but lauren isn’t buying it.

“right, you just happened to nearly elbow sjoeke out of the way to help her.” she nudges you, clearly entertained as you walk out of the gym area with lauren following. 

“i didn’t know you were so... possessive.”

“i’m just helping a teammate, lauren,” you say, a bit more defensively than you meant.

she laughs, exchanging a look with katie, who’s been watching with a raised eyebrow. 

“teammate, huh? well, looks like you’re a really supportive one. maybe you could give me a back massage,”

“gross,” you laugh while rolling your eyes playfully. 

you make your way to the lounge, hoping to avoid further questions. as you step in, ashley, mille, and zecira are all sitting together, looking up as lauren walks in behind you, a mischievous glint in her eye.

“guys, guess what i just saw,” lauren announces, voice full of laughter. 

“y/n practically staking a claim on catarina during training.”

you feel the heat rising to your face, reaching for a protein bar to keep your hands busy. 

“lauren, do you ever shut up?” you mutter, trying to play it off, but the room erupts in laughter.

ashley shakes her head, grinning wide. 

“i fucking knew it! i knew you had a little thing for cat.”

“please,” you scoff, rolling your eyes as you open the protein bar. 

“you all have overactive imaginations.”

just as you think you might have a chance to let it blow over… sam, who sits on the couch beside mille, finishes her call with her fiance kristie, her voice carrying a hint of amusement. 

“so, y/n,” she starts, her grin just as playful, 

“you gonna do something about this little crush, or what?”

you sigh, taking a bite of the protein bar. 

“what crush?”

everyone around you laughs, clearly not fooled, and as much as you try to deny it, you can’t shake the way your heart jumps whenever you’re around cat.

march 2024 arrives and it feels like the start of something new and familiar all at once. it’s game day against leicester city, but there’s an extra pulse of excitement coursing through the chelsea locker room as everyone pulls on their light blue kits. 

for you, this game holds a different kind of significance: it’s the first time you’ll be sharing the pitch with catarina since your days at lyon, and though she won’t be starting, just knowing she’s there—back from the injury that’s kept her away from the game she loves—adds a layer of warmth to everything.

you catch her watching you from across the locker room, her gaze dropping from your eyes to linger as you adjust your shirt and tug on your socks. it’s almost enough to make your breath hitch, and it doesn’t help that the kit has a snug fit, a sleek light blue that seems to catch her attention. 

her eyes trail up slowly, as if she’s memorizing every detail, and when her gaze meets yours, she looks away with a small, shy smile. 

erin, sitting beside her, sees it all and nudges cat in the shoulder with a smirk that says she’s absolutely onto her.

the pre-game energy is high as you head out onto the field, and while you’d usually be in the midfield, today you’re positioned as left-back. the shift feels strange, like wearing a jacket that’s just slightly too big. you tell yourself to adjust, to focus on the rhythm of the game and do your part.

as the whistle blows and the play begins, you find yourself absorbed in the moment, thoughts of cat lingering but pushed to the back as you settle into the role.

in the 38th minute, an opportunity opens. bjorn is making a move toward the box, slipping past defenders, her eyes focused and ready. you’re aware of the ball at your feet, feeling the familiar weight of it as you move up the wing. scanning the field, you find the angle and send a cross sailing toward bjorn, hoping she’ll connect. 

she times her jump perfectly, meeting the ball with a header that sends it directly into the net. the crowd erupts, a sea of blue cheering as your teammates swarm bjorn in celebration. 

a grin spreads across your face, pride surging as you run back to position, your gaze flicking to the bench where you spot cat clapping, her eyes on you, the corners of her mouth pulled into an admiring smile.

the game presses on, and in the 44th minute, you spot another chance. mayra’s waiting near the edge of the box, finding an opening just wide enough for a clean shot. slipping past the defender, you send the ball right to her feet. 

she doesn’t waste a second, taking the shot and sending it straight into the net with a perfect strike. you jump on her back in celebration, happy to give the second assist for a player that is out of position.

it's 2-0 before halftime, and as you jog back, you’re buzzing with the energy of the lead.

the walk to the locker room is filled with celebratory chatter, but as soon as you settle onto the bench, your mind starts to go over every play. being out of position has you feeling exposed, vulnerable in a way that’s hard to shake. 

you sit there, running through every mistake, every step you might have taken wrong, the weight of your own expectations pressing down on your shoulders.

even with the two assists, you’re surprised that no defensive errors you’ve committed ended up with a conceding goal. 

you’re so lost in thought that you don’t notice cat coming up beside you until her hand lands gently on your shoulder, her voice soft and soothing. 

“hey,” she murmurs, leaning in slightly so only you can hear. 

“you’re doing great out there. seriously, y/n.”

you manage a nod, though your shoulders still feel tense. she must notice, because without a word, she pulls you into a hug, her arms wrapping around you in a way that feels grounding. 

the warmth of her hand on your back, tracing gentle circles, starts to ease the tension, her touch a reminder to breathe.

“you’ve got this,” she whispers, her voice steady and close, almost like a secret between the two of you. 

“you’re holding it down out there, trust me. emma even said that you’re doing great defensively for someone that's mainly an attacker.”

you let yourself lean into her a little more, savoring the reassurance, her breath warm against your temple. it feels grounding, safe, and for a moment, you don’t want to let go. 

there’s something about the way her arms hold you, strong yet gentle, that makes the anxiety ebb away, leaving a warmth that has nothing to do with the game.

just then, sjoeke clears her throat from across the room. 

“gross,” she calls out, a playful grin on her face. 

“get a room, you two.”

you and cat pull back, laughing, though you feel the heat rush to your face as she lets go, her hand lingering on your arm for a moment longer than necessary. 

“thanks, cat,” you say softly, offering her a smile.

“anytime,” she replies, her gaze lingering, warm and full of something you can’t quite name.

you head back out for the second half, but she stays on the bench, still recovering, cheering from the sidelines. knowing she’s there, watching, makes you feel a little lighter, your movements sharper, steadier. 

it’s the 72nd minute, you’re  focused on pushing up the left flank, linking up with your attackers, and keeping your defensive responsibilities in check. your eyes scan the field, watching for openings, and it’s only when you catch lauren jogging toward the sideline and the fourth ref holding up the number board that you realize who’s coming on in her place. 

catarina is stepping onto the pitch, and despite your efforts to keep composed, a bright smile tugs at your lips. this is the first time in so long that you’ll be playing together, and for once, you let yourself admit it, if only silently—you have a crush on her.

you turn your attention back to the field, your heart beating a little quicker, that sense of familiarity and excitement building with each touch of the ball. 

she’s out here with you now, right where you’ve wanted her to be, and knowing she’s nearby is enough to make you feel even more determined.

in the 78th minute, you get the ball near midfield and start driving up, your pace quickening as you swerve around a few defenders. your feet are light, every movement fluid as you weave through their attempts to block you. 

when you reach the edge of the box, you catch sight of cat, her positioning perfect. without a second thought, you use the outside of your foot to send a quick pass in her direction, the ball rolling smoothly toward her.

cat doesn’t hesitate. she meets the ball with a precise kick, sending it past the goalkeeper and straight into the net. 

as the crowd erupts, you can’t help the excitement that surges through you. before you know it, you’re running toward her, a wide grin on your face, arms open as you close the distance.

“cat!” you shout, laughter in your voice as you reach her, wrapping her in a hug. her arms come around you instantly, holding you tight, and for a moment, it feels like the entire stadium fades away, leaving just the two of you in the center of the pitch.

“we did it,” she murmurs, her voice soft, just for you to hear.

“that was all you!” you cheer.

you feel her grip on you tighten, and your heart swells as the rest of the team joins in, everyone piling into the group hug, laughter and cheers filling the air.

the game’s finally  over, and the stadium is cheering with the energy of chelsea’s victory. you’ve got a genuine grin on your face, eyes drawn to cat as she makes her way through a string of congratulatory hugs from the team. 

she’s radiant, practically glowing in the aftermath of the match, and watching her light up like that stirs something deep within you. but, as thrilled as you are for her, there’s a quiet, nagging feeling creeping up in your chest.

a thought crosses your mind—would she ever really want to be with you? maybe you’re too young, too inexperienced for someone like her. what if she doesn’t even like women? the doubts start stacking up in your mind as you watch her laughing with the others, and it’s impossible to shake the feeling of insecurity as it clouds over your happiness, just for a moment.

emma notices your gaze, the way your smile flickers, and sidles up beside you. 

“everything alright?” she asks, her tone casual but her eyes knowing.

you hesitate, then decide to be honest. 

“i just... i don’t know. it’s nothing, really,” you mumble, but emma doesn’t let it go.

“it doesn’t look like nothing,” she says with a small smile, glancing over at cat. 

“you know, it’s pretty obvious on both sides.”

you blink, taken aback. 

“both sides?”

emma nods. 

“cat likes you too. maybe she doesn’t always show it in the ways you expect, but... it’s there. the entire team can see it.”

her words sink in, warm and reassuring, but also nerve-wracking. what does that mean? do you dare to take it seriously?

before you can ask more, emma steps away, and cat is suddenly in front of you again, grinning and pulling you into a tight, warm hug. the embrace is so close, her arms wrapping around you in a way that feels like more than just a friendly gesture. 

you can feel the steadiness of her breathing, the warmth of her body against yours, and a part of you wishes you could stay like this, here in her arms, forever.

neither of you says anything, and in the quiet of the moment, you’re just holding each other, lost in the feeling. around you, you notice a few chelsea fans snapping pictures, murmurs about a possible new couple, but you don’t even care. 

you’re caught up in her warmth, in the closeness, until you finally let go, smiling softly at her.

later, as the team heads off, you invite a few people over to your apartment to relax. most are too tired to celebrate, and honestly, you’re relieved—hosting company sounds exhausting after a long day, and you’re happy enough to have a quiet night to yourself. 

you head home, showering and settling into your soft pajamas, the contentment from the day still making you smile.

you’re about to head to bed when a knock at the door catches your attention. curious, you pad over and look through the peephole, only to see cat standing there, hands in her sweatpant pockets, looking slightly unsure. 

you quickly unlock and open the door, blinking at her in surprise.

“cat, what are you doing here? it’s almost midnight,” you say, though a grin creeps onto your face.

she shrugs, grinning back. 

“you did say you were hosting company, didn’t you?”

you chuckle, stepping aside to let her in. 

“okay, you got me. want something to drink? i’ve got water, maybe some juice…”

she watches you as you head to the kitchen, her eyes flicking over you, taking in your comfortable clothes and how your body fits in them. 

“water’s fine,” she says, though her gaze lingers a little longer, sending a flutter through your stomach.

you hand her the glass, and as she takes it, you notice her eyes lingering again, tracing over your face, down to your lips, then quickly looking away. the subtle glances have your heartbeat picking up, the room suddenly feeling warmer. 

the way she’s looking at you is... different. intense. it’s as if there’s something unspoken between you, simmering beneath the surface.

she catches you watching her and raises an eyebrow, a smirk playing at the corners of her mouth. 

“why are you looking at me like that?”

caught off guard, you feel the heat rising to your cheeks, but, with the comfort of your apartment and the courage you feel just from being around her, you answer truthfully. 

“because... you look beautiful,” you say softly, your voice barely above a whisper. the words leave your lips before you even fully realize it, but you don’t regret them.

cat’s eyes widen, her smile softening. she sets down her glass, then takes a step closer, so close that you can feel her warmth radiating. without another word, she reaches for you, pulling you down onto the couch and gently guiding you to sit on her lap. 

you can’t help the small smile that sneaks onto your face as you settle, feeling her hands resting on your hips, grounding you in the moment.

“what are we doing here?” you ask, your voice quiet, curiosity sparking with a mix of nerves and excitement.

cat’s hand brushes a strand of hair away from your face, her thumb tracing lightly against your cheek. “i don’t know... what do you want us to be?” she murmurs, her gaze intense, searching yours for a hint of what you’re feeling.

you swallow, feeling a rush of confidence at her words, the encouragement in her tone. your eyes flick to her lips, and before you can second-guess yourself, you ask, 

“can i kiss you?”

she doesn’t respond with words, just leans forward, her lips meeting yours in a soft, lingering kiss that sends a shiver down your spine. her hand settles on your hip, gentle but possessive, grounding you as you melt into her. 

when you pull back slightly, your heart pounding, you manage a small smile, feeling braver than before.

“will you... will you be my girlfriend?” you whisper, barely able to contain the hope in your voice.

her answering smile is warm and bright, and without a moment’s hesitation, she pulls you back into her embrace, her lips finding yours once more. 

“absolutely.”

masterlist

[helen-with-an-a]

staying on the idea that amor is English, how did they cope in the lead up to/ during/ after the World Cup final? love your hc’s xxx

Beautiful Girl masterlist

Ok so let’s take it back to May/June 2022 shall we?

Amor is absolutely convinced that her performance in the UWCL final against Lyon will mean that she’s out of the Euro squad - 1000% convinced and there’s nothing you can do to prove it otherwise. She didn’t even play badly, she’s just adamant that she caused the team to lose (she didn’t, she was one of the best players on the pitch - Ale is totally convinced Amor should have got MVP but hey ho).

Amor is in such a state of shock when Sarina phones her that she doesn’t even speak (Ale was standing next to her and after 20 seconds of awkward pausing, Ale had to take over the phone call and apologise to Sarina but yes, Amor will be there).

Amor uses her shaken confidence to push herself even further and work even harder. She gets named VC in the Euros (and is secretly very proud of herself but she plays it off like it’s nothing - Ale on the other hand is shouting it from the rooftops).

Amor is heartbroken when Ale does her ACL and uses the pain to work even harder (although Amor does feel bad that she scored the 2nd goal against Spain - it was a “fuck-it-and-see” type goal and it went passed Paños and Amor was like WHAT THE FUCK HAVE I JUST DONE?

Alexia couldn’t really give a shit that her team lost (she could but that’s different) cos that was Amor’s first international goal for England and she was just so proud and if it had to be against anyone she was glad it was against Spain

Ale made the trip back over the England for the final - she shouldn’t have really done it, but she needed to be there when Amor won. It just simply wasn’t an option not to be. She only stayed for the day before, the day off, and the day after and Amor flew back a week or so after that (and was met with a very different, borderline depressed Ale)

Coming into the WC was different, Amor had just (technically) won her 1st UWCL title. She was on a high of Ale coming back. Life was pretty good for Amor in the lead up to the WC.

And then she was announced as Captain for the WC. Amor was so shocked it was unreal. She had been captain before after Leah did her acl/if Leah was subbed out etc. But it’s different being named Captain. She definitely cried (and Ale might have done too). There was definitely congratulatory sex !!!

When England and Spain made it through the group stages and it was clear that they were to be drawn on different sides of the tournament, Ale and Amor had a phone call (that may or may not have turned into some cheeky phone sex) about how they wouldn’t have held anything against each other if they were knocked out (just like the the Euros)

Amor tried to watch Ale’s matches whenever possible, obvs training and stuff sometimes got in the way a little, but Amor was always checking the score.

Ale was insufferable if she wasn’t able to watch Amor’s games. She was so whiney and pouty that even V*lda decided to cut training short over it.

Amor was just so happy when Spain got through to the final, she wasn’t even thinking about what would happen if England won against Australia. And then they did. Amor had captained the country to the first WC final since 1966!

It wasn’t until she got back to the room that evening that it fully dawned on her who she would be facing.

Amor knew logically that Ale wouldn’t really be playing - she definitely wasn’t in the starting xi and probably would only be made a sub right at the end. But Amor knew she would be playing pretty much the whole match (barring any injuries). There was another phone call where they chatted through it and reassured each other about everything.

The final did not go too well for Amor - she gave away the handball that lead to the penalty Jenni misses. She’s convinced that she could have covered the gap Lucy left for Carmona to score, she’s sure that if she had ran that littler bit faster, she would’ve been able to fill the space and Carmona might not have scored.

Amor didn’t cry when the final whistle went. She didn’t do anything really, she was just numb. But Amor was the best captain, she went round to everyone and helped them as best she could in whatever way they needed her. It wasn’t until she saw Ale that she actually cried.

Ale didn’t really care about doing anything other than holding Amor. But Amor was insistent that Ale celebrate their win. But Ale just couldn’t enjoy it with Amor.

Ale didn’t go to the “that night” celebrations for long. She snuck away after a few hours and made it back to Amor’s hotel and just held her as Amor finally let herself cry. But then Amor felt so guilty for crying when Ale won and it was a bit of a headache for Amor.

Amor went to the celebration dinner with Ale the next day (and spent the afternoon speaking Spanish and working Ale up and having some great sex in the evening)

And then Ale decided to go to Mexico with the Barça girlies. Amor thinks it’s because Ale is embarrassed to be with her when Ale is on such a high and Amor is on such a low. Ale just wants more training practice and doesn’t really consider how it might look to Amor - they chatted about it before the tournament and decided together that if Ale played reduced/minimal minutes then she would go to Mexico.

Amor enters basically a depressive episode. She doesn’t do much and mainly feels guilty about the loss. Lucy and Keira and the other girls that haven’t gone to Mexico try their best but they know Amor needs Ale.

When the squad comes back from preseason, Ale is greeted by a very pissed Keira and Lucy - Ale is definitely in their bad books for leaving Amor like this, except Ale doesn’t know. Amor seems fine on the phone - a little quieter perhaps but that’s about it. Lucy and Kiera didn’t really say much in their texts to her so she’s a bit in the dark.

Ale feels so so so guilty for leaving and then definitely have a good ole cry together over everything and there’s lots of loving reassurances

Ultimately the 14 ish months from May 2022 to August 2023 was a really tough period for both of them but it just proved how much they loved each other and how much stronger they became because of it

[anonymousewrites]

A Not-So-Disastrous Romance (Book 2) Chapter Thirteen

Saiki Kusuo x Reader

Chapter Thirteen: Festival Competition

Summary: Saiki and (Y/N) go to a festival, but Kusuke interrupts.

            Saiki teleported to the edge of the forest. In a clearing nearby sat the festival, complete with colorful lights, the smell of food, and various games for people to play. He walked towards the stalls, waiting his parents to pull up with his Grandma, Kusuke, and (Y/N). He looked down at his yukata. It was simple and green with a pink sash, so he was thankful. Because Saiki’s mom was picking out outfits, it could’ve been far crazier (like zebra printed).

            Soon enough, Saiki saw the family car pull up, and his family got out. Neither of his parents had dressed up, but Kusuke was in a simple grey yukata.

            “It’s as boring as ever,” said Kusuke with a smile. “I can still remember how boring it was before. What a boring festival.”

            “Stop calling it ‘boring.’ ” If Saiki had a more expressive face, he would have rolled his eyes.

            Grandma Saiki got out of the car, and Saiki sighed. She wore a purple and white kimono with little pink hearts—very youthful for her age (and short).

            (Y/N) was the last to get out, and Saiki just stood there, staring for a moment. They had on a pink yukata, and a purple obi. It was simple and yet cute. (Especially since the colors of their yukata and his complemented one another). (Y/N) beamed at him, and Saiki’s heart basically stopped. They seemed to glow in the lantern light with that glorious smile, and Saiki was reminded once again just how lucky he was to be with them.

            “Oh, wow.”

            (Y/N)’s cheeks warmed as he spoke, and they chuckled nervously. “Thanks, Kusuo. You look nice, too.”

            Saiki coughed and looked away, embarrassed at the compliment. “Thank you, (Y/N).”

            Click! “Aww, you two are so cute!” Mrs. Saiki giggled from behind her camera. “I’ll send you both the photos later.”

            Saiki didn’t need photos of himself blushing, but when (Y/N) brightened, he just smiled inwardly and nodded at his mom. He’d make sure anything that made (Y/N) happy came true.

            “I like festivals like this,” said Mr. Saiki, looking around.

            “Me, too. I don’t like when they’re too crowded,” agreed Mrs. Saiki.

            “This one is a bit small,” admitted Grandma Saiki.

            “I think we can find some fun,” said (Y/N), smiling. “It matters who you’re with, not where you are.”

            Saiki swore that his mom’s eyes turned to stars, and then her face became demonic as she glared at Saiki. “Never lose them, Kusuo,” she nearly growled.

            …Oh dear, thought Saiki, a little afraid of the intensity.

            “What a good point!” said Mr. Saiki. He took his wife’s hand. “Let’s go and see the festival.” He puffed up his chest. “I’ll win some prizes for you!”

            Mrs. Saiki chuckled and leaned on his arm. “Thank you, sweetheart.” They walked into the festival stalls.

            “Wait for me!” said Grandma Saiki, buying snacks.

            “Kusuo, (Y/N), here,” said Kusuke, holding out caramel apples. He smiled.

            “When did I become ‘(Y/N)?’ ” wondered (Y/N).

            “Don’t become familiar,” said Saiki, narrowing his eyes at his brother.

            “Oh, come on, I like them! I approve,” said Kusuke. “Even if I don’t know how you managed to land a partner so nice when you’re a psychic weirdo.”

            Saiki just deadpanned. He felt a pressure on his hand and looked down. (Y/N) was holding his hand and glaring at Kusuke.

            “Don’t call Kusuo weird, Kusuke,” said (Y/N). “He’s not the one who looks down on people for not being smart. He actually helps people and has friends.”

            Saiki’s breath was once again stolen. Oh, wow. Saiki was extremely lucky to be dating (Y/N). He didn’t deserve them.

            Kusuke laughed out loud. “I told you I liked them, Kusuo. They even defend you!” He chuckled and turned away. Apparently, he had just been testing if (Y/N) was really worthy of his psychic brother—he competed with Saiki, but that was because he thought only he should get a chance to beat Saiki, and no one else deserved it. (Y/N), however, did.

            “…I walked right into a test, didn’t I?” said (Y/N), sweat-dropping.

            Saiki smiled slightly and squeezed their hand. “It was nice of you. He’s just weird.”

            (Y/N) chuckled and smiled at him in agreement.

            “If you’re talking about me psychically, don’t forget I can still figure out what you’re saying even with this on,” said Kusuke, pointing at his headset as he spotted (Y/N) speaking to Saiki.

            “That blocks telepathy?” said (Y/N).

            “I invented the only thing that blocks his abilities,” said Kusuke with a grin.

            “Don’t tell him,” said Saiki as (Y/N) glanced at him. Their germanium earrings were far more fashionable than that headset, and if Kusuke was going to avoid having his mind read, Saiki wanted him to look silly. (Also, Kusuke hadn’t figured out how to just block his thoughts from Saiki and still be able to hear Saiki “speaking,” which amused Saiki since (Y/N) had that ability with their earrings).

            “I can always tell what he wants to say, though. He’s predictable,” said Kusuke. He pointed at Saiki. “And that’s how I know what you’ll say when I suggest we have a competition.”

            “No,” said Saiki instantly.

            “No?” predicted Kusuke casually. “Alright. But I bet I can win more prizes for (Y/N) than you can.”

            Kusuo and I are dating, but he wouldn’t fall for that level of jealousy bait—

            “You’re on.” No way was Kusuke going to make a fool of him in front of his partner just to boost his own ego.

            Never mind. (Y/N) laughed.

            “(Y/N), you choose the event,” said Kusuke, gesturing to all the stalls.

            “But if you’re a genius, you’ll know what I’m going to choose,” said (Y/N), shrugging.

            Kusuke deflated slightly. “It’s part of the fun.”

            “It doesn’t matter. He never wins, anyway,” said Saiki.

            (Y/N) took pity on him and Saiki’s pride. “Okay, how about…” They scanned the stalls. “The shooting range.” They pointed to the booth with guns and targets to win stuffed animals and various other prizes.

            “Great choice,” said Kusuke, walking to the shooting range. He handed over some money, and he and Saiki stood side-by-side with separate guns.

            (Y/N) watched them shoot and hit all of their targets down. The pair glowered at each other, and (Y/N) chuckled in amusement as other guests backed away from the two people who looked way too serious while holding guns.

            “You’re not using your abilities?” said Kusuke, smirking.

            “That would be unfair to the attendant,” said Saiki.

            (Y/N) smiled. They were glad Saiki wasn’t relying on his powers. It was kind of nice to see him just having fun in the way a regular person would, which was something he always wanted to do.

            “Well, it’s no fun for me, then,” said Kusuke. “I’m changing rules.” He gestured to a giant stuffed animal prize. “If I get the biggest one, I win.”

            “It’s impossible with these guns,” said Saiki. “Also, that’s a creepy doll. I’m not giving (Y/N) that.”

            “If I don’t get the big one, you win,” said Kusuke. “Oh, and you can use your abilities without upsetting the attendant.”

            “Huh?”

            Kusuke pulled out what could only be described as a phaser gun from a sci-fi movie. “Stop me if you can!”

            “What? That gun looks like it could disintegrate people!” exclaimed Saiki.

            “This is not that serious!” said (Y/N), eyes wide.

            “Stop, that’s cheating!”

            Energy collected at the tip of the gun.

            “Hey!”

            “Fire!” shouted Kusuke. A purple beam of light fired from the gun and flew towards the stuffed animal.

            Saiki instantly lifted his own gun and fired. The bullet rocketed forward, propelled by his own abilities in a burst of blue light. It hit Kusuke’s beam of energy, and the two bolts careened off one another into the sky. Kusuke’s eyes widened at losing. The bursts of energy flew into the sky and exploded like fireworks. Pink light showered over the festival, and people gasped in surprise and awe.

            Kusuke pouted, and Saiki just sighed.

            “Yare yare. I still won,” said Saiki.

            “I lost again,” groaned Kusuke. “I was so close this time.”

            Saiki ignored Kusuke and collected the prizes he’d won. He had an entire bag’s worth and picked out a strawberry plushy.

            “Here,” said Saiki.

            (Y/N) smiled widely and held the plushy close. “Thank you, Kusuo.” They kissed his cheek, a fleeting touch, but it got a little smile from Saiki.

            “What are you guys doing?” said Mr. Saiki, running up with Mrs. Saiki and Grandma Saiki. They had seen the fireworks and known that their kids were up to something.

            “Just having a fun competition,” chirped Kusuke. “I lost again.” He sighed. “It’s alright. I’ll have another chance.”

            “What do you mean ‘another?’ ” wondered Mr. Saiki.

            Kusuke smiled. “Didn’t I mention it? I graduated from university. I’m moving back to Japan.”

            True horror passed over Saiki’s face. “What?”

            “You can move back in with us!” said Mrs. Saiki happily.

            “I don’t think so,” said Kusuke.

            “Where then?” asked Mr. Saiki.

            “I was thinking of staying with Grandma and Grandpa,” said Kusuke brightly.

            “That’ll be wonderful!” said Grandma Saiki. She pulled out her cell phone. “I’ll tell Kumagoro!”

            Saiki let out a sigh of relief. At least Kusuke wasn’t coming back to live with Mr. and Mrs. Saiki. That would be the end of any peace Saiki had at home. Quickly, he took (Y/N)’s hand and began to pull them away.

            “Let’s escape before he tries to make another competition,” said Saiki.

            (Y/N) laughed and followed him. “Good idea.” They squeezed his hand while holding the plushy with their another. “What should we go and do?”

            “Whatever you want,” said Saiki. He just wanted a nice moment with (Y/N).

            “Hmmm.” (Y/N) looked around at the different stalls, and their eyes alighted on a tent where people were sitting and eating. However, at the center of the tent was a wooden stage where people were dancing. Their eyes brightened. They really wanted to dance. But Kusuo wouldn’t want the attention. Plus, that’s a lot of physical contact. They shook their head. They wouldn’t make Saiki uncomfortable just because they wanted to dance. “I don’t know,” said (Y/N). “You choose.” They smiled encouragingly.

            Saiki sighed. He had seen where their eyes went, and there they were, still trying to appease him. They were too nice.

            “Come on,” said Saiki, gently pulling them towards the tent.

            “Huh?” said (Y/N), surprised.

            “Let’s dance,” said Saiki, setting down his bag and taking (Y/N)’s plushy. Then, he took their hands and guided them onto the dance floor.

            (Y/N)’s smile turned bright, and Saiki fell head-over-heels for them for the hundredth time. He knew that he’d never grow tired of making them smile. “Super Trouper” by ABBA began to play. Saiki moved awkwardly, not sure how to dance. (Y/N) laughed and held his hands firmly. They swung his arms and moved their feet to the beat. Slowly but surely, Saiki began to move with them, though he really didn’t pay attention much to what he was doing. He was only looking at (Y/N) as they grinned and sang along to the music, bouncing on their feet playfully.

            And so, to preserve that smile for as long as he could—he’d bend the world to their will if they’d ask in order to make them happily, not that they would ask (which made him care all the more)—he copied what he saw other couples doing. Saiki firmly held (Y/N)’s hand and spun them around. They laughed in surprise and twirled a couple times, smiling giddily.

            As the music played, (Y/N) moved closer to him and put their arms around his neck. He smiled slightly and put his hands on their waist, still moving together to the music. (Y/N) threw their hands up and sang along to the music while Saiki watched them adoringly. (Y/N) smiled at him. They really, really lov—cared about Saiki. He was one of the best things to ever happen to them, and they were so lucky to be with him.

            “You’re the best, Kusuo,” they said, smiling.

            “I’m not,” said Saiki.

            “You’re the best for me, then,” said (Y/N) firmly. They laid their head on his chest while they hugged him close.

            Saiki smiled at them as he held them close. “You’re the best for me.” No one else came close. He lifted a hand and tilted their face towards his. Leaning in, he kissed them softly.

            Smiling, (Y/N) kissed back.

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@jaguarthecat

@isaacdaknight

@newttheglue250

@thelameone101

@peqch-pie

@rai-xxx

@loverzxi

@s0ggyrats

@introvertathome

[faeriekit]

CLOSE ENOUGH.

*(This was originally an unbirthday gift for biblioteque on discord! ...and I forgot their tumblr username! So!)*

When Clark is young, he doesn’t know any different.

“Be careful, Kal,” Mama says as he toddles around the house, her hands on his hands, his feet on her feet. They march together, Mama and Kal, as they go around the farmhouse. “You’re going to be big and strong like your father. You gotta be gentle.”

“Gen’le,” Clark gurgles, the word barely English.

Pa laughs from his place on the table, newspaper in hand. “And smart, too!”

Father snorts through his cup of coffee. “There was no possible alternative. Kal-El will be exceptional, as expected of his house.”

“Well,” Mama says cheerfully, cutting Father a look through her glasses, “Maybe he’ll get lucky and won’t be as big-headed as you.”

Pa laughs, and Clark laughs loudly and openly with him; Father smolders into his coffee, and the morning passes.

Clark doesn’t know a lot, when he’s little.

He knows that he hears a lot, so sometimes there are things he’s not allowed to be in the room for: Father puts him to bed with a song and long stories of the science of the stars when Mama and Pa have tense words about money; Mama puts Clark to bed when there are strange men in the cornfield, and Pa stays downstairs with the hunting rifle; Pa or Ma or Father or whoever puts him to bed when the rest of his parents have heavy-breathed and strained ‘alone time’.

“I think Pa’s sick,” Clark says from his tucked-in place in bed, half-listening, playing with his bear’s plush limbs while his parents make noise elsewhere. They sound kinda strained, like they’re working too hard. Pa says that’s not good for you.  

“…That’s not what’s happening,” says Ma, too tired to talk.

Clark pats her hand. Ma sounds like she feels bad too. They move onto sharing a story while Father and Pa make noises down the hall, and eventually Clark gets to sleep.

Clark doesn’t think much of his family when he’s little; it takes going to school to find out that he’s different than the other kids in Smallville.

He’s different from a lot of other kids.  

“I have two names,” Clark tells Chloe at school, before Pa and Ma and Father tell him not to. His second name is a secret. Clark doesn’t know why, but he listens, and stops telling people why Father calls him Kal.

“How come you only have one Mom and one Pop?” Clark asks from the swings, Mike on the pair beside him. His feet pump back and forth as they swing. “Aren’t they lonely?”

Clark tells Tom “I’m not allowed to go outside of town without Ma or Pa,” even though it was super nice to be invited to watch the game with Tom’s family. Clark wrings his hands. “Father says it’s not safe.”

Eventually, Father and Ma and Pa are able to tell Clark the important things—that Clark is special, but not better than anyone else; that Clark is different, in ways that might scare people who don’t already love him; that what Father does is private, and is nobody’s business.

To be fair, Clark isn’t certain what Father does.

Father works in the attic, with equipment that beeps and chimes and hums and doesn’t need to be plugged in. He writes in a language that Clark only sometimes understand, and when Clark reads the results aloud, Father always corrects his pronunciation. The screen for Father’s work is clear and bright. There’s no static, like there is downstairs with the television, and when Clark runs his fingers through the screen, they don’t touch anything at all.

“Don’t touch that, Kal-El,” Father says simply, reading triangular words across the screen. Clark guiltily pulls his hands out of the screen.

“What is it?”

Father’s voice rumbles from his chest, his fingers never still on the keypad. “Weather results. I calculate the predicted weather for the next few weeks on the second of every calendar month.”

Clark peeks. That’s why he can’t read it that well, then: he doesn’t know any weather-words. “I thought that weather reading is super hard, and that you can’t tell what the weather is all that well?”

Father’s lips quirk upwards. His typing continues. “With inferior equipment, yes. With a little more experience and better tools, however, the accuracy improves significantly.”

Clark tells Eliza that a tornado is going to touch down at four on March 28th, since his Father told him so. Eliza, with her brown pigtails and hand-me-down play dress, puts her hands on her hips and calls him a liar.

Ma and Pa watch Father haul equipment out into the storm to take notes from their spot in the window, only for the shape to start funneling right before their eyes.

The tornado touches down at 4:00:23pm.

Eliza ends up owing Clark all her tooth fairy money—almost a full four dollars and seventy-five cents.

Ignoring my 15+ wips to invent new, worse wips is my passion. Don't look in my documents folder. Seriously. Do not.

[hai7ani]

Stay / Haitani Rindou

Power Trip / Cry Me a River

cw canon-typical violence, suggestive, ran plays a huge role, abandonment, grief, death / Sequel

Things haven't been the same since South died.

He doesn't tell you much, so you don't really know things, but you're not an idiot.

You know of the late nights he's been spending out with his brother lately. When you ask, they simply tell you they've got a party going on at the usual place with the usual group of people, down the street.

When you ask.

Before leaving for the night he'd double check the locks and make Ran tell the lady next door to call him if she sees anything suspicious happening around the block or outside the unit.

"Stay home, be safe, alright?" Ran would tell you after giving you and his brother some space 一 for him to give you a kiss on the cheek as per his own habit, and for you to cling onto him a few minutes before they go as per your own 一 as always. And he'd ruffle your hair if they're down, or fix your braids a little if he'd tied it earlier for you, and then they'd leave. Together.

The extra precautions the brothers take on their home and you recently has been getting a little bit overwhelming. It's not that you don't understand why they do this 一 things aren't exactly safe for you as the girlfriend of a Haitani and is seen as a younger sister to the elder, who are both now heavily involved with dangerous people dubbed as a safety hazard to the general public.

Rindou has spent years outside of the gang curating ways with Ran to keep you safe and hidden away from the lingering, hungry eyes of their rivals and enemies who are constantly looking for ways to tear him and his brother down from their reputations 一 he is not going to risk putting you in danger, being used as a target as a means to get to the brothers, or being ambushed simply because you are yourself, a woman.

But as more time passes, with more and more late nights spent wandering alone in the Haitani household waiting for them to come home to you 一 or if they'd even come home at all 一 you've been starting to think there is something else going on.

You don't like that he's been making you feel this way.

Abandoned, left alone.

If he is cheating on you, even if it hurts 一 even if it might rip you apart into a million pieces 一 you think you want to know. Seeing for yourself who the other woman is, or who the other man is 一 you think it might give you some closure.

But he isn't cheating on you. You know he is not. He still comes home to you with that same, stupid smile on his face when he catches you on the PC fooling with some games or messing around with his unfinished mixes. He still brings home your favourite Chinese takeout with extra spring onions from the family-owned restaurant down the street.

He is still your Rindou when he comes home. He hugs you to sleep and he hugs you when you wake up. He kisses you in front of Ran despite the embarrassment you know he hates facing because Ran is a huge tease 一 he is relentless with the jokes 一 but he still does it anyway simply because he doesn't think loving you is something to hide in front of him, his brother, and a person you have both always looked up to in life 一 a boy who have always been protecting the two of you, pushing you both forward in life with arms behind your backs and a smile on his face.

You think he has been abandoning you lately 一 yeah, that's what it is. He makes you feel like he is going to leave sometime soon, again, and you don't fancy it at all.

You don't ever want him to leave again.

...

The year 2000 was the very first time.

Eight years ago, just downstairs of your own apartment a few blocks away from theirs, you had to watch with a broken heart filled with so much guilt and shame pouring out of the cracks, as the brothers get arrested for something that wasn't even their fault.

Eight years ago you had bumped into a man. A very tall man donning a very intimidating uniform, with equally intimidating men standing behind him as they stared you down and one of them had flipped away the ice cream cone in your hands down to the concrete floor. You remember staring at the vanilla slowly dripping down and staining his grey uniform with so much fear settling in your bones, and they'd spent the evening picking at your hair, your skirt, your backpack.

You and Rindou had gotten into a fight that afternoon. He'd refused to walk you home despite his brother's disagreement, and watched you stomp away in near tears because you didn't like that he kept boasting about his Math paper which scored a little higher than yours. The boy had been waiting for you downstairs at your apartment, eager to say sorry with a bowl of soba in his hands that he'd bought and carried all the way from the stall just right around the corner, and when he noticed he has been waiting for almost 2 hours and you still weren't home despite school having ended hours ago, he panicked.

And then everything after happened in a flash. One minute ago the man was saying something along the lines of, "While we're at it, shall we have some more fun as well?" And at the next, your childhood best friend was right on top of him, bashing his skull in, again and again and again. "Say it again, you bastard!" He yelled. Ran was trying to hold him back, but Rindou was far stronger than Ran at that time despite being a year younger and shorter than him.

You remember it being the day the Haitani Brothers had been the new group to take over Roppongi, your home, and chose to cover the entire story up as a way to keep you hidden 一 as a way to protect you, so that you won't have anything to do with the death, and you won't have to deal with the cops (they have experience watching their parents, who were once corrupted millionaires).

They were arrested the next day. During their court ruling, Ran had received a longer sentence than Rindou for being the one to beat the victim to death, with Rindou named as an accomplice for holding the victim down as the incident occurred. No witnesses were quoted, and all CCTV footages of the scene were destroyed.

And then they left for 2 years, spending their time in a juvenile centre in a city far away from Roppongi. You'd travel hours a week just to see them, and you'd cry and tell them how sorry you are and how you should've been the one to talk to the cops 一 that way, it might've at least been considered as self-defence. It had been your fault anyway, if you were actually using your eyes for once and watched where you were going, you never would've bumped into him. None of this would've ever happened then.

You had spent two years alone, sometimes staying the night at their home with their family maid and their grandmother accompanying you while you sleep in his bed and cry. You have spent two years blaming yourself for what had happened. You have spent two years of your early teenage life resenting them for leaving you, for doing all of this without even considering your feelings the entire process.

The year 2005 was the second time, when Yokohama Bay had become your new spot to avoid.

The news came to you late, as you were supposed to stay home and wait for their return to Tokyo 一 as per Ran's demand. "Stay home, be safe." The same memo as he'd always say, but no longer a request this time.

Three hours after they had left a friend of theirs came knocking on your door. He was one of the very few people Rindou allowed to know who you were, simply because he still needed his own extra pair of eyes whenever he and Ran are out doing business with Izana.

And then it happened again 一 police at the scene, a pair of unconscious bodies lying on the floor covered with a huge, white cloth, and your childhood best friends tied in handcuffs with blood and bruises all over their face.

You remember having the rest of the Tenjiku members who were also arrested at the scene (the ones who chose to stay back, for Izana) watch a girl around their age slowly approach the yellow tape, crying, as she struggled against the police. "Nii-chan? What is going on?"

Ran had never felt so guilty before.

And you remember staring at your boyfriend who you have just started being intimate with a few months ago with so much pain and trauma in your eyes. Last night he'd promised in your ear he'll come home to you safe and sound.

He'll get this one done and then he'll come home. He said it himself 一 there's a Coldplay concert happening this weekend, he'd be a dead man if he were to miss it.

...

He doesn't come home for six months. You ripped and threw your tickets into the bin. You trashed Ran's room out of anger and quickly fixed things back when you realised what you've done.

Their original sentence was to be eight, but with good behaviour and great contributions to the rehabilitation centre, it was then reduced to six.

Your relationship had been in a standstill then. You don't visit the entire time they were held in the centre. He wrote to you on the second month and sent you origami flowers (which were approved by the guards) and a long ruler with a black Sharpie mark on 6 that only you would understand, with Ran adding his own note at the bottom of the letter, telling you to look for Aoyagi if you are ever in danger, or simply needed some form of help.

"Stay home, be safe." He added.

What a hypocrite.

Rindou abandoned you for the second time. Nii-chan broke his promise again.

Six months later, after their release, they come home to their apartment decorated in things they never would've bought. Crocheted pillow cases on their couch, a new IKEA makeup table randomly sitting in Rindou's room (next to his PC table), wet bras and panties hanging on a line in his own bath, and your laundry either neatly folded on the couch or simply thrown all over the house.

You appear from the pantry in just a bra and lounging shorts with a mouth full of popcorn and rollers still in your hair when you hear the commotion.

They swiftly realised then that you have fully moved yourself in here while they were away. "Made yourself real comfortable, huh?" Ran had joked, and you threw him a pillow landed right at his face. (He had a nosebleed that didn't stop for a good fifteen minutes.)

"I can't trust you guys not to leave anymore." You had said to them sternly, back faced as you were putting on one of Rindou's old band tees fresh from the wash, with Ran facing the wall out of respect (it was one of the very few times you had caught him off-guard, yet you truly do not give a fuck) and Rindou kneeling behind you on the floor, in seiza, with his head hung low.

"So, I'll keep watch on you two myself. You're not going out without telling me where, when, with who, doing what."

Your method worked pretty well for two stubborn people who you see as family, coming from a girl they never really take seriously just because you are so close to each other. It lasted about a few months, with Rindou always updating you on where he went (he did it all willingly, really), like the DJ gigs at the club or going to the gym for the Judo and Muay Thai classes he'd signed up for, and Ran never going out ever since, all to sleep like a dead person in his room.

And then there came a man named South.

He had pretty great plans for a man new to the gangster scene in Japan. Rindou had told you all about it 一 he'd swore (willingly) not to hide anything from you after that. You remember how he'd boast about surely winning the upcoming fight against Kantou Manji and Brahman because he's been real pumped lately 一 the Judo and Muay Thai classes he's been attending consistently came in real handy this time 一 and you'd smack his cheek as a warning to not fool around with these people any further because they mean serious business now.

...

South had died in the battle, as a result of his loss from the Battle of the Three Deities. Naturally, this also means that the brothers are now under the control of another man again.

Mikey is his name. You saw him once, 3 years ago in Yokohama when you were riding on the bike of Aoyagi on the way to see Ran and Rindou at the scene. Mikey had been taking the initiative and signalling for his injured men and Tenjiku's on where to go and what to do.

He has always been a leader in your eyes since then, despite the small resentment you held for him for whatever that happened. So to hear from Ran about the current Mikey and his plans for the future as soon as Rokuhara Tandai and Brahman had been absorbed into Kantou Manji, you didn't think you would be able to digest it so soon.

And of course, Rindou went away again. But this time, he told you about it before he left.

"Baby, thank you for telling me." You remember feeling so relieved to hear when he kissed and informed you of the news, choosing to let him go on his own and helping him pack for a few days and nights away from home.

He sent you a picture of the sea two days later. Then, a white car with wings and huge exhaust pipes you don't know the name of, followed by a photo of himself with the beautiful sun setting behind him.

"I got a grandmother to take it for me. She reminded me of Baa-chan (as in his own grandmother who raised all three of you together). I think I want to name my new song after her. Her name is Minori, from Zushi. Like me, she came to Kamakura for the sea. It's still beautiful here like before. I'll bring you one day, Mom and Dad would love to see you again." He wrote, before going offline soon after.

You knew then that Rindou had gone back to Kamakura 一 the place that his parents were born in, and the place that they were buried in.

"Did you have fun?" You remember kissing him welcome-home a week later. He's a little tanned from the sun of July, probably spending most of his time back there catching the waves with the new friends he's told you about, and you think you love him even more when he grabs your nape and pulls you close, closer.

You like that he is smiley now. More talkative, more responsive.

"Yeah. I got you these." And he helps you put on a pair of pearl earrings he'd gotten as a gift from an elderly couple who were on the last days of their lives, spending their time at home watching the sea in Kamakura.

You've not once taken off the earrings since that day, and he, too, hasn't spoken much to you about what happened. Whatever that has happened. You don't know what's going on in his head 一 how he's dealing with the recent death of a friend and how he is handling the new changes to his life, or if there's a specific reason he'd gone back to visit his parents' graves.

(Rindou is now a member of Kantou Manji and he truly thinks that Mikey is insane 一 Sanzu even more. He doesn't know how the others are able to stand being in the same room with him for more than a second. He genuinely hates Hanma as well. Somehow the guy had caught wind on his little girlfriend (you showing up to the scene 3 years ago and was caught by local blabber mouth Shion) and wouldn't stop annoying him about it. He has thought of killing that man right then and there with a stick up his ass to stop the news from spreading, but that would mean he'd have to go to jail again, and he doesn't want to do that again.

Ran has gotten himself a new girlfriend too 一 the fourth one over the course of the three months he'd finally started dating girls 一 that he frequently brings over to the house and fucks like it's their last day living. He thinks this is his least favourite one. He doesn't really like her as she enjoys talking down to especially you simply because she is five years and four older than the three of you.

"Who the fuck does this hag think she is? Watch me kick her out, babe. And if Ran tells me off I'll kick him first and then I'll kick him out.")

...

You fear he is falling in despair.

He's constantly staring into space. Sometimes he'd stare out the window at night overlooking Roppongi with the Tokyo Tower in the back while munching on some yoghurt mix you'd made for him as a snack, and you'd watch together with him in silence 一 behind him so he doesn't know you're there. You don't want him to be alone like you have all those years ago.

The first time, he left for two years. Then, he left for six months. He'd only came back from Kamakura just three weeks ago, on a week away from the city (the violence).

Is Mikey going to take him away from you too?

Would he leave forever now that he is involved with the man and his gang?

...

You think he is going to again.

He's been not-so-discreetly packing his clothes while he thinks you're asleep and hiding the duffle bag in the storage room.

"Rindou, don't go." You finally say it to him tonight. He is busy wiping you down so he didn't really hear you that well. He hums, "what's that?"

"Don't go. Don't leave me." You start crying out of the blue. "You always leave me. When will you stop doing that? Don't you love me? You wouldn't keep leaving if you did."

"Babe-"

"We were kids when you left. You promised to take me to the theatre and watch theatre Barbie for Christmas and then you go away with the police. We were teenagers when you left the second time. You wanted to bring me to see Coldplay sing that weekend but you went away and I had to spend all of our birthdays alone in this room. Are you going to leave again when we're adults? Aren't you gonna marry me, huh? Are you going to leave me for Mikey or are you going to make me a widow this time? Which one is it, Rindou? Tell me so I can prepare myself. You don't tell me things anymore. I don't know what's going on in your mind."

You go on like that for quite some time. You slap him once and hit him on the chest twice. You cuss him out three times 一 one for being such an asshole, two for fucking breaking your heart like it's all his and not your own anymore, three for he's such a jerk for making you wait all this while 一 and finally, finally, when you're about to cuss him out again the fourth time, he kisses you.

He kisses you and kisses you and kisses you.

"I'm sorry for wanting to leave. Again. Just thought you might be safer if I'm not around."

He realises all of your true feelings then 一 all the things you've kept bottled up in your little heart, all of it resting in your chest kept all to yourself, as you put up a strong front in front of them just to make him feel at peace again, because you don't want him to leave anymore. He tends to leave whenever he feels the urge to protect you, as if he is the biggest danger itself.

"I'm a strong girl, you know? Baa-chan always told me so. I don't need any protecting, so you don't have to leave anymore. Stay with me, Rin. Stay, don't go away again. I can't do this anymore. I don't want you to go." You beg.

"Okay. I won't go. I promise." He swipes your tears away with both palms and kisses your eyelids.

He thinks of Mikey's offer the entire time while he hushes you to sleep, pinky's interlocked just like when you were younger and was very afraid of the dark, and would make little Rindou hold your hand until you saw light again.

"Guess I'll die..." He turns to you then 一 naked, but so beautiful. Your neck is covered, littered with hickeys and his back stings from the scratches you'd left on his skin earlier, but he doesn't mind. He never minds. He loves it, actually. "I've talked it out with death. Mom, Dad, Izana, and South... This'll surely be the last one I'll go through. My own, and yours."

"We'll see the light soon, hopefully." He whispers in your ear. "We'll be free."

"Okay." You mumble sleepily, a tired smile stretching across your kiss-swollen lips. You don't really get what he's saying, but whatever. Your pinky's are intertwined, there's no way he'd ever leave again, right? He'd be breaking your code if he did.

...

Ran has been waiting for him for the past hour.

Despite his patience slowly running out, he doesn't find it in him to rush his brother, or to yell at him through the door 一 to hurry it up and get it moving like he usually would.

He gives him time. He understands that it is a big decision. He knows it's going to break your heart if Rindou had truly said yes to the offer.

He wonders what your reaction would be like if he did.

A honk from downstairs catches his attention and he realises it is time.

His eyes glances at the clock hanging off the wall 一 9am sharp on the clock. And then they move down to the photo frame hanging just below 一 the three of you at school in uniforms, a picture taken by a teacher Ran had absolutely hated, but you loved.

A black limousine, as mentioned before in the meeting, parked on the curb with double signals turned on.

A man exits the car and tucks something into the back pocket of his Levi's. He opens the door for another man. Mikey exits, stands, and stares at Ran through the window 一 a 20-something-floor distance between the two, but he knows right exactly where they live, and where exactly Ran is at.

It fears him.

And it fears him even more that Rindou is not awake.

That was a gun he was holding.

So he enters your room, watch the two of you get tangled under the sheets with drool all over your pillows, hair messy, and the alarm clock clearly 一 deliberately 一 not ringing.

He smiles. Ran thinks all the fear in him is gone.

"You've been brave, Stupid Rin." He says. "You don't have to be anymore."

"Nii-chan'll go alone this time." He fixes your blanket and squeezes Rindou's oily nose shut, watching as he struggled to breathe a little, but slept it off anyway. A quiet laugh escapes his lips and he sits by the bed.

"Be safe."

And he prepares to stand.

"What about 'stay home'?" You ask when he is halfway up from the bed.

He knew you had been awake the whole time anyway.

"Will you come home?"

Ran pinches your cheek.

"Nah." He braids a thin strand of your hair with quick work. "I won't call either."

"Be safe, bunny. Take care of Rindou."

You have always liked hopping around when you were younger. You think you'll go do it more often now. At the park, maybe 一 you'll go terrorise some 8 year-olds and steal their skipping ropes, and some chalk perhaps.

"Bye-bye, Nii-chan."

...

"I see you've made your choice. Great one, Ran."

"...You have me for life, Mikey. I'll kill for you. I'll die for you. My life is now yours," he pauses.

"In exchange for that..."

Mikey thinks he is afraid to say it.

I shall scare him further then.

"I did say I'll kill him and her both if he said no, didn't I? That I'd shoot them in the head and feed them to Shiba Taiju's sharks. They've been really hungry lately."

"Yes."

And?

"Mikey, I'm good. I can fight, I can stay loyal. I'm good with the business groove, I can work with Kokonoi and bring in the money. In exchange for that, for having me for life, you will leave my brother alone. You will leave his girlfriend, my sister, alone. I am coming to you as a man who has a family. Please, leave them alone."

"That's interesting." Mikey grins, maniacally.

He pulls the trigger, shoots the other man.

Mikey tells Ran to drive the car. There is blood all over the steering wheel, but he grabs onto it as if it is merely just water.

Now his hands are really, really, tainted with blood. Tainted with the blood of his own soul 一 Haitani Ran 一 as he sells it to the devil. The Pompompurin keychain you had gifted him a few years back because you thought it'd resembled him a lot, now covered in the same blood as he hides it deep in his pocket.

He feels his hands tremble as he puts the gear to D and steps on the accelerator.

To our memory.

"You're wise, Ran."

No witnesses. Only between us both. I will leave Haitani Rindou and your sister alone.

"You have my word."

Sequel

in another life, where rindou said no to joining what would soon become bonten, and ran exchanged his life for both rindou and yours.

[writteninlunarlight-years]

Tears to Shed

This is based on Tears to Shed from the Corpse Bride. Where Alastor accidentally marries the reader. The only problem is Alastor doesn't want to marry anyone. TW: Angst, Hurt, Sorrow, Illusions to Suicide but you can't die in hell unless it's angelic steel; Alastor is well Alastor, Mimzy is Alastors partner in this. <I am open to writing a part 2 if yall like this> @willowaudreykeyes helped me edit!

The day Alastor slipped the ring onto your finger seemed to shake the whole world with the weight of fated lovers. He was a striking figure, with caramel skin glinting beneath the sun, eyes alight, and a vigorous appetite for power and immortality. But beneath the surface, a shadow lingered: his heart was not free but tied to Mimzy, that star of the city, resplendent with the possibilities of influence and status among humans.

But in that very moment, as your eyes caught the gleam of the ring, you could almost think he chose you. You were, after all, wearing his ring, and he had said those vows with such passion as if some unseen force bound your destinies. 

But then time unraveled, and the truth trickled in like a cold, silent mist: Alastor wanted neither you nor Mimzy. He wanted to be free and live a life unencumbered by chains called commitment. He wanted power and to be feared above all others in his realm.

You had been heartbroken, perched up on the roof of a falling building in Hell, looking out at the fire spreading to the horizon. Never a fan of red and black, you'd always enjoyed blue and silver. The licks of flames danced like lost souls, taunting your self-worth.

You did, indeed, feel the gravity of your life in that moment-the corpse bride, once a loving beauty, now a demon cloaked by yearning and solitude: Alastor had brought one spark of hope into your heart only to cast it down into the dark. The pain of betrayal and the weight of your new existence as a demon were crushing you, threatening to consume the last remnants of your humanity.

You remembered that cold, starless night when he slid the ring onto your finger. For the beat of a moment, you were complete, while today, you are the broken pieces of what you once were: a beautiful woman full of life and a longing to be loved. But now, the truth stared you in the face: he was trapped, and you were the specter haunting his every step, it would appear.

You'd found Alastor begging for Mimzy's help only hours before. The scene had played like an echo in your mind, a foreign sound that twisted your insides. You'd seen it in his eyes, heard it in the shake of his voice. Beneath the bluster of a power-hungry fool, he was just a man desperate to be free of the tethers of a promise he had never wanted to make. And you, you were the one who had been used as a pawn in their twisted game of power and love.

As the reality fell in your heart like ashes, your friends emerged from the shadows: Nero, the imp, and Arianna, the succubus. Their loyalty to you puts a soothing wave over your spirit of fire and ice. They pressed themselves against your sides, the heat from their bodies contrasting with the chill of your skin and the despair that began to wrap around you as time passed.

They stared at the scene before you, knowing this was their doing. Had they not encouraged you to keep Alastor in your life, to guide and mentor you in a fantasy of mortals and demons in love, you wouldn't be like this on the brink of unleashing your powers on all of Hell once again, just as you had on the day you had died.

"What does that wispy little brat have that you don't have double?" Nero's voice was soft yet managed to cut through the fog in your brain. The gentle touch of his hand to yours was akin to a lifeline for a moment.

Arianna leaned in, her eyes aglow with wild affection. "She can't hold a candle to the beauty of your smile!" she said, in words that were an attempt at stitching the pieces of your heart together.

"Yeah, how about a pulse?" You snorted, the venom of bitterness thick in your voice as you stared at the fiery scene below your chosen hideout. You just felt like an antique compared with the sweet Mimzy.

"Overrated by a mile!" Nero chipped in, his voice light yet grave, as he sat by your side with a mutual understanding of the pain you are experiencing.

"Overfed!" Arianna cut in with a snort, her tail flicking in outrage.

"Overblown!" Nero exclaimed, with echoes of laughter resounding around the darkening space. Then he turned to Arianna, who nodded with full vigor. For a moment, their eyes shone with playfulness as they looked at you, hope alighting in their pupils.

"If he only knew the you that we know," they chorused in unison, gripping your hands tight. Their faces held pride with a touch of pain, but they held steady on one thing: their unity in support of you.

Arianna played with the ring on your left hand, smirking with mischief and love. "And the little silly creature isn't wearing his ring!"

Nero playfully elbowed you. "And she doesn't play piano!"

"Or dance or sing! No, she doesn't compare!" they chortled, their voices rising like some haunting melody.

But the shadows of doubt clung to you like a second skin. "But she still breathes air," you muttered; the weight of your reality fell again.

"Who cares?" they chorused, still enthusiastic, though you knew they were growing tired of your self-doubt.

"Unimportant!" Nero insisted, scrambling onto your shoulder, his small frame reassuring.

“Overblown!" Arianna echoed with whimsical reassurance, wrapping her tail gently around your arm.

"If only he could see how special you can be. If only he knew you that we know," they said in one accord, a mantra to which you were no longer sure you believed.

You stood, peeling yourself gently from the tangle of friends. Your undead eyes threatened to spill over with tears as you swayed on the precipice of despair, humming a mournful tune. Closer to the edge of the building you sat atop, the seductive allure of the fall whispered promises of nothing, for you could not die here.

"If I touch a burning candle, I can feel no pain. If you cut me with a knife, it's still the same." You flourish the blade hidden in your garter, the cold steel calling to your mind your immortality. The use of it on Alastor flashed across your mind a spark of the most dangerous kind. You chase the thought away, turning back to your lament. The struggle between your desire for revenge and your lingering love for Alastor was tearing you apart, threatening to push you over the edge of sanity.

"And I know her heart is beating, and I know that I am dead. Yet the pain here that I feel, please try and tell me it's not real." You turned your gaze to your friends, their faces dimly lit by the firey light of hell, then fell back from the rooftop, landing softly within a coffin overflowing with blue and silver roses, the delicate petals wrapping you in a sorrow growing only larger by the minute.

"And yet, it would seem I still have a tear to shed." Your eyes, no longer shining bright, now blazed with the bitter salt of lost love, lost on the one with whom you had believed you shared. Yet time was a thief and saved little space for sorrow. Nero and Arianna were already down to your level, their eyes afire with determination in jarring contrast with the despair flooding your heart.

Nero was first to huddle beside you, his face lined with concern and encouragement. "The only redeeming feature of that little creature is that she's alive!"

Arianna joined him, her cheeks flushed from the hurried descent. "Yeah, it's overrated!" she chimed in, light in tone but weighted with the depth of unsaid meaning.

Nero nodded vigorously, nudging you gently as he gestured to the world beyond. "Yeah, even overblown!"

Arianna smirked, crossing her arms in a very defiant pose, even going so far as to tilt her chin upward in some kind of dare for you to say otherwise. "Everybody knows that’s just a temporary state, which is cured very quickly when we meet our fate!"

Nero's grin widened as he helped you sit up, your surroundings—a darkened alleyway—looming on like some sort of forgotten lover's heart. "Who cares?

Arianna wrapped her arm around your waist, the touch grounding and warm. "Unimportant!" she insisted, dismissing the weight of your sorrow with a wave of her hand.

Nero tugged your good hand with newly formed determination, pulling you toward the busy streets, back into the folds of society. "Overrated!"

Arianna toyed with your hair before flashing a mischievous wink over the mask of worried tension she knew was building the more they danced around your feelings. "Overblown!"

The pair sparkled brightly as they laughed-a stark difference amidst the cowering crowds shrinking away from you, the infamous Corpse Bride, the dainty specter who wielded more souls than damn near Lucifer himself.

"If only he could see how special you could be, if only he knew you, that we know!" Their words of encouragement merely cut through your heart like daggers.

You merely shook your head, a deepening frown as the shadows danced in your eyes, before pulling away and meandering to drift across the streets. A melancholy tune tumbled from your lips as those who'd dare to follow quickly began to wither into roses of silver and blue, scattered remnants of what once was. As you approached the next street, your lament started again, an echoing whisper.

"If I touch a burning candle, I can feel no pain; in the ice or in the sun, it's all the same." You breezed by a café with candles on its tables casting their golden light into the night air, and without even batting an eyelash, you blew them out, embracing the darkness like an old friend.

Your eyes closed, knowing, sans sight, that you were the most significant threat this Hellscape had ever known. Your heart clutched, and your sorrow blossomed into a dark storm that sent those who knew your power scurrying back into the shadows, fear etched upon their faces.

"Yet I feel my heart is aching; though it doesn't beat, it's breaking, and the pain here that I feel, please, try and tell me it's not real." As your eyes fluttered open, the street transformed before you: what once was vibrant red and black now lay cloaked in shades of blue and silver- your wailing, weaving a tapestry of despair, draped over the once bustling scenery.

"I know that I'm dead, yet it seems that I still have some tears to shed." Your voice was barely heard, and there was a broken murmur as you made your way to your house. The chill of the stone outside was like the weight of your grief. Climbing the stairs with sluggish motions, you sat at your piano bench and stared onto the keys, the swell of your sorrow deep.

Nero and Arianna watched you, their faces heavy with what was not said, too much pain entering them as it had the rest of hell when you started your lament. They knew all too well that you only called upon your full banshee powers when the weight of despair bore too much, even that they could not fix it.

You laid your fingers against the keys, and the weight of silence fell. You pressed a key, and the note sang out to resound as one deep ache in your soul, for Alastor would go back to the world of the living, leave you for another, and leave you a shadow.

The sob, so fragile yet mighty, ripped itself free from your lips and unleashed a storm into the very pits of hell. Your wail pierced the night, a chorus of anguish, seeing as you were Y/N, the Corpse Bride, or better yet, a banshee of ill fate, rivaling the voice of Lilith herself.

The roses that danced around your abode shook with solemn trembles at the harmonization of keys to a requiem of lost love. And you, still lost between the planes of life and death, celebrated being the Harbinger of Sorrow.

[the-winter-spider]

Say Don't Go | Part Two

Pairings: College!Hockey Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 2.9k

Warnings: Drinking

A/N: I KNOW the poll said yall wanted the next part to Invisible first but i already had this edited! The next part of invisible will be posted in a couple hours 🫶🏻 i just need to edit it! We about to angsttyyy dick head bucky sooon, so enjoy the bliss of this filler chapter and sweet bucky NEXT chapter before hes a prick lol

------

Once in the quiet of your dorm, you pull out your phone and text Steve, letting him know you made it back safely. But as you sit on the edge of your bed, Bucky’s words echo in your mind, his touch lingering like a warm memory.

You open the door to your dorm as quietly as you can, hoping not to wake Wanda, your roommate and one of the few girls on campus who’s genuinely kind to you. But when you slip inside, you see her sitting at her desk, textbooks open and highlighter in hand, a soft smile spreading across her face as she spots you.

“I don’t know whether to say you’re home early or late,” she teases, glancing at the clock and then back at you. Then her eyes zero in on the jacket draped over your arm, and her eyebrows raise. “Is that his jacket?”

You shrug, trying to act casual. “He was just walking me home.”

Wanda rolls her eyes, setting down her highlighter with a grin. “Please. You two are playing one of the most drawn-out games of cat and mouse I’ve ever seen.” She tilts her head thoughtfully. “For somebody who can body-check a grown man into a sideboard, I don’t know why he’s so nervous to go after you.”

You feel a blush rise to your cheeks and set the jacket on your desk, avoiding her gaze. “Maybe he’s just…embarrassed.”

Wanda lets out a little laugh and lightly slaps her arms in exasperation. “He is definitely not embarrassed. You’re one of the most beautiful girls on campus, you know.”

“Stop it, Wanda,” you mumble, trying to hide your smile as your cheeks heat up even more. “You’re making me blush.”

She laughs, leaning back in her chair. “Fine, fine. But I’m serious.” She stretches, rubbing her eyes. “Anyway, I have to get back to studying. If the light bothers you, just throw a pillow at me or something.”

“Don’t worry,” you reply, stifling a yawn as you settle into bed. “I can sleep through anything.”

Wanda grins, putting on her headphones and returning to her notes. You close your eyes, snuggling under the covers, and let out a sigh, replaying the events of the night in your mind. Bucky’s words, his touch, and the warmth of his jacket linger, making it hard to keep the giddy smile off your face.

Just as you’re drifting off, your phone vibrates on the nightstand. You reach for it, and your heart does a little flip when you see Bucky’s name on the screen. His text is simple, but it’s enough to make your night: Can’t wait to see you tomorrow.

With a smile, you type back: You’re a hopeless flirt, Barnes. Then you set your phone down with a soft sigh. Wrapped in his jacket’s comforting scent, you fall asleep, already looking forward to whatever tomorrow—and that party—might bring.

The next morning, your alarm jolts you awake at 10:00 a.m., and you groan, fumbling to turn it off. Blinking against the light, you see a handful of notifications: three texts from Steve, one from Wanda, and one from Bucky. Starting with Steve’s, you open it and grin at his messages:

S: Hey sleepyhead, how is it I’m the one up late and you’re still in bed?

S: We have brunch plans!!! Don’t stand up the captain of your undefeated hockey team ;)

S: Alright, Bee, I’ll be at Rosie’s at 11:00 a.m. sharp. If you’re late, you’re buying.

You can’t help but laugh at the nickname, Bee. A nickname that only Steve called you because every time you would drink you would brag to the world, or anyone that would listen that you've gone your whole life without being stung by a bee and that was your superpower mainly it was because you would run for the hills if you even heard a buzz, nothing scared you more than the unknown pain of a bee sting. You texted back: Im up, Im up....and starving, can't wait to be ON TIME and order the whole menu, since its your turn to pay <3

Next, you open Wanda’s text:

Wanda: You snore a lot… and I think you may sleep-talk, too. Don’t worry, I won’t tell a soul… especially Bucky ;)

You groan, shaking your head, not even sure what you might’ve said in your sleep, but with Bucky on your mind last night, you wouldn’t put it past yourself. Finally, you open Bucky’s text, and your heart skips a beat at his reply from last night: Hopeless for you

The words sink in, leaving a warm, fluttery feeling in your chest that you try to brush off as you get ready.

When you arrive at Rosie’s Café, Steve is already at a booth by the window, grinning as he watches you through the glass. He dramatically waves, like he’s greeting some long-lost friend, and you roll your eyes, laughing as you slide into the booth across from him.

“Five minutes late,” he says, raising an eyebrow. “I was betting on ten.”

You stick your tongue out at him, snagging the coffee cup he’s already ordered for you. “Please, I’m practically early.”

Steve snorts, taking a sip of his coffee. “Whatever you say, Bee.”

“So,” Steve says, leaning forward with a mischievous grin, “I heard from a reliable source that Buck walked you home last night. Left Tiffany all high and dry.”

You roll your eyes, trying to play it cool. “We were just walking home. Bucky was being… Bucky.”

“Right,” Steve says, drawing out the word with a smirk. “Because ‘just walking home’ means wearing his jacket, right?”

You feel your cheeks warm. “It’s not like that. Honestly, it’s just harmless flirting. Bucky and I—we’re friends, because of you i might add...that’s all.” you shrug

Steve’s expression softens, his teasing fading. “Bee, it’s never just ‘nothing’ with you. Look, I’m only saying this because I’m looking out for you. You’re my best friend, and I don’t want to see you get hurt.” He pauses, taking a sip of his coffee before adding, “Bucky’s a great guy. But he… he’s got a way of being uncertain. He doesn’t always know what he wants.”

His words settle heavily in your chest, and for a second, you feel your heart dip. But you push away any sign of that, meeting his gaze with a smile. “It’s fine, Stevie. I’m a big girl. I know how to take care of myself.”

He sighs, nodding, though he doesn’t seem fully convinced. “I know you do. Just… remember, i've always got your back, alright? No matter what.”

You reach across the table, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. “I know. Thanks, Steve.” And as he smiles, you can’t help but feel a little more grounded, even as the thought of Bucky lingers in the back of your mind, stirring a mess of hope and caution.

Just as you’re about to respond, the server arrives with plates of food, sliding them onto the table with a cheerful “Enjoy!” You raise an eyebrow at Steve as he grins, looking ridiculously proud of himself.

“Of course you already ordered for me,” you say, picking up your fork. “Couldn’t resist, huh?”

Steve shrugs, stuffing a forkful of food into his mouth. “I know you too well, Bee,” he says through a mouthful, barely managing not to laugh.

You lean back, giving him a playful side-eye. “Alright, so who’s this ‘reliable source’ that’s apparently got all the gossip on my night?”

Steve smirks, pausing just long enough for dramatic effect. “From the man himself.”

You blink, surprised. “Bucky told you he walked me home?”

“Yup,” he replies, scrolling through his phone before holding it up so you can see the text. “Got a message from him last night saying he made sure you got back safe and sound or whatever. Real gentleman, right?”

You glance at the screen, reading the short message from Bucky: Walked her home. All safe and sound.

You look back at Steve, trying to ignore the warmth spreading through your chest. “Well, that was nice of him. Good to know he’s updating the Captain on his whereabouts.”

Steve rolls his eyes, but there’s a hint of a smile in them. “Come on, don’t act like you’re not a little flattered. He doesn’t do this for just anyone.”

You laugh, stabbing a piece of pancake with your fork to cover up your blush. “He’s just looking out for me. Like you said, he’s a good guy.”

Steve just shakes his head knowingly. “Keep telling yourself that, Bee.”

You shift the conversation quickly, hoping to steer attention away from you and Bucky. “Anyway, how’s Natasha?”

Steve raises an eyebrow, smirking a bit. “I don’t kiss and tell.”

You snort, rolling your eyes. “Since when?”

Steve’s cheeks turn a little red, but before he can respond, a couple of college guys pass by the table, giving him a friendly pat on the shoulder. “Hey, Rogers! Great game last night, man. You killed it!”

Steve flashes them a grin. “Thanks, man. Appreciate it.”

As they walk off, he turns back to you, clearing his throat and regaining his composure. “Well…maybe this time feels different,” he admits, a bit shyly. “I really like her. I’m actually thinking of asking her out on a real date.”

You break into a smile. “Congratulations, Stevie. I’m happy for you. She seems like a great girl.”

He gives you a hopeful look. “So you approve?”

Laughing, you shake your head. “I don’t have to approve anyone you want to be with, Steve.”

“Yeah, you do,” he says, his voice soft but sincere. “You’re my best friend. Your opinion matters to me.”

You soften, feeling a pang of affection for him. “Of course I approve. She’s beautiful, confident, and she’s a genuinely nice person.”

Steve’s face lights up. “I think you two would actually be great friends. You and Natasha? I can totally see it.”

You nod, a warm feeling spreading through you at his happiness. “I think so too.”

As brunch winds down, Steve leans back, watching you with a small smile. “So… ready for the party tonight? I hear everyone’s going to be there, even Bucky’s going all out.”

You try to play it cool, shrugging. “Yeah, should be fun. I mean, it’s not every day the undefeated hockey team throws a party.”

Steve chuckles, clearly amused. “Yeah, well, Bucky might have mentioned a few times how he’s hoping to see you there.”

Your cheeks heat up, but you try to play it off with a casual smile. “Well, I’ll make sure to look my best then.”

Steve raises an eyebrow, giving you a knowing look. “Don’t worry too much, Bee. Pretty sure you already do... Are you gonna wear that?" He gestures to Bucky varsity jacket folded beside you nicely

You sigh, glancing down at Bucky’s jacket folded neatly beside you. “Probably not. But I’ll bring it to give it back to him.”

Steve raises an eyebrow. “Give it back? Why? Looks good on you.”

You shake your head, laughing a little. “Come on, Stevie. I can’t just show up wearing something like this—that would make it seem like we’re… you know, together.” You can’t help but feel a pang of regret as you say it, but you push it down. “And we’re absolutely not together.”

Steve gives you a look, one of those perceptive, big-brother looks that only he can pull off. “You sure that’s all there is to it? Maybe he likes seeing you in it.”

You roll your eyes, shrugging to hide your own uncertainty. “I just want to give it back. It’s his jacket.”

Steve snorts, folding his arms. “Right. Well, if you change your mind, don’t overthink it. You never know—maybe he’d like seeing you show up wearing it.”

You give him a playful shove. “I think I’ll survive without making a grand entrance in his jacket, thanks.”

Steve laughs, shaking his head. “Suit yourself, Bee. Just know I’ll be watching out for you, especially if Bucky tries anything you dont want him to tonight.”

You grin, feeling a bit more at ease. “I’d expect nothing less from the captain himself.”

Steve stands, throwing a few bills on the table for the check. “So, I’ll pick you up at eight, yeah?” he says casually, grabbing his jacket. “Just gotta swing by Natasha’s place off-campus first and pick her up—if that’s cool with you.”

You nod, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Of course. I’ll be ready. And hey, don’t keep her waiting too long,” you tease, nudging him.

Steve’s cheeks flush, but he grins back. “Don’t worry. I’d never hear the end of it if I did.”

As you head for the door together, he pauses, giving you one last look, his expression softening. “You sure you’re all good for tonight? No nerves?”

You wave him off, rolling your eyes. “I’m fine, Stevie. It’s just a party. And I’ll have you and Nat there, so what’s there to worry about?”

He chuckles, pulling you into a quick hug. “Alright, alright. Just checking. See you at eight, Bee.”

You wave as he heads off, and you can’t help but feel the familiar flutters of excitement—and maybe a hint of nerves. Tonight’s party feels a little different, like there’s something more hanging in the air.

With a deep breath, you pick up Bucky’s jacket from the booth and walk out, wondering if you’ll actually find the nerve to wear it tonight after all. You tell yourself it’s just a jacket, but a part of you wonders if wearing it tonight would mean something more, even if it’s just between you and Bucky.

---

As you finish getting ready, you smooth down the little black dress that hugs you in all the right places, still debating the jacket. It’s hanging off the edge of your bed, and every time you look at it, your heart flutters. You know what wearing it could imply.

Just as you let out a sigh, your phone pings twice. The first message is from Steve: I’m five minutes away.

You quickly tap out a response, letting him know you’re ready. But then you notice the second message from Bucky. You hesitate, fingers hovering over the screen, heart pounding. When you finally open it, the message is short, but it’s enough to make you grin--

BB: You better be wearing my coat… see u soon, doll.

A smile tugs at your lips as you grab the jacket, pulling it on. Somehow, it feels like a shield, giving you a rush of confidence. Right on time, your phone lights up again with a message from Steve saying he’s outside.

You hurry downstairs, and Steve’s already out of the car, holding the door open for you like the gentleman he is. As you slide into the back seat, Natasha looks over her shoulder, letting out a low whistle.

“Wow, you look hot,” she says with a grin, nudging Steve. “Doesn’t she look hot?”

You laugh as Steve’s cheeks turn pink. “I… I mean, I can’t… I don’t… I can’t say that about her.”

Natasha rolls her eyes with a laugh, and Steve clears his throat, finally managing, “You look very pretty.”

“Thanks, Stevie,” you say with a smile, adjusting Bucky’s jacket around your shoulders.

He eyes it with a smirk. “So, I see you decided to wear the jacket, huh?”

You shrug, trying to sound casual. “Well, I’ve gotta give it back to him eventually. And it’s a little chilly, so… win-win.”

Steve gives you a knowing look through the rearview mirror. “Mhm. Sure.”

Natasha stifles a laugh, clearly amused as Steve starts the car, pulling away. You settle back into the seat, your heart racing a little faster with each passing minute as you all head toward the party.

The party is already in full swing when the three of you step inside, music thumping and lights casting a hazy glow over the packed room. Steve has his arm slung around Natasha’s waist, his face beaming as people shout greetings his way, clapping him on the back. The undefeated hockey team’s star has arrived, and he fits right in, like he was born for this spotlight.

You follow closely, but it doesn’t take long to feel a bit adrift, like you’re walking in his shadow. Steve keeps glancing back, making sure you’re close, but you hate that he feels the need to check on you. It’s supposed to be his night, his chance to relax and enjoy himself, not to worry about you.

You start to feel the weight of the jacket on your shoulders, like it’s putting a target on your back. Bucky’s name stitched across it draws eyes in every direction—curious, judgmental, some downright hostile. You catch a couple of girls whispering and shooting you cold, jealous stares. A pang of anxiety twists in your stomach as you force yourself to look away, hoping your face doesn’t betray the flush of self-consciousness rising in you.

Suddenly, it’s too much, and you reach forward, grabbing Steve’s arm. He turns, looking concerned, and you lean in, speaking loud enough to be heard over the music.

“I’m gonna go grab a drink and hit the bathroom,” you say, offering a quick smile to reassure him.

Natasha, noticing the exchange, leans closer. “Want me to come with you?”

You shake your head, forcing yourself to sound confident. “No, you two go have fun. I’ll find you in a bit.”

Steve searches your face, worry lingering in his eyes. “You sure?”

“Of course,” you insist, giving him a playful nudge. “I’m a big girl, Stevie. Go, enjoy yourself!"

He nods, squeezing your shoulder before turning back to Natasha, who’s already pulling him further into the crowd. You watch them disappear, his arm still draped protectively around her, and as they blend into the sea of people, you feel a hollowness settle in your chest.

Alone now, you wrap Bucky’s jacket tighter around yourself, but it’s no longer a comforting weight; instead, it feels heavy, like armor you don’t feel quite strong enough to wear. The flashes of familiar faces and snippets of conversation around you only deepen your sense of isolation. You feel small, like a forgotten piece of someone else’s story, swallowed by the loud music, the swirling lights, and the press of bodies.

[biibini]

nsfw ghostface!mizu

“what’s the matter sidney? you look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

tags: mdni , 18+ , modern!mizu with ghostface twist , fem! reader, ghostface!mizu , eating out for a hot moment, death , kisses, alternative motives , so bad yet so hot typa moment

a/n: am i late to this? yes. did this come to me during class? yes. happy late halloween and welcome back to mizu brain rot town ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ✩‧₊˚

ghostface!mizu would easily find your place since silly you picked up the phone every time it rang and answering with a sweet “hello”.

ghostface!mizu quietly crawls into your bedroom without a single creak while you were busy talking to her on the hallway phone downstairs.

ghostface!mizu finds it cute how you’re blindly answering her questions about yourself, what you were doing tonight, what you liked to do, favorite color, etc. she knew you were lying through your teeth, but man, did it sound so pathetic and cute to hear your lies.

ghostface!mizu hums to every response with a “mhm” while watching your every move from your bedroom upstairs, gauging your reaction every time she hummed in response,.

ghostface!mizu sees your finger twirl around the phone line, playing with the wire, smiling down on the floor when you continue to go on and on about yourself.

“It’s such a boring color, I know, but it’s my favorite!”, you state, continuing to play with the phone line. You teasingly accuse her, “You’re asking all these questions about me, yet I don’t even know who you are!”,

Mizu watches you talk into the phone, hearing your playful voice tease her, practically begging for a sliver of her.

“You wanna know about me?”, she coos back, mirroring your energy.

“Mmhm”, you answer, nodding in response, “Who is my mysterious caller?”

“Someone who’s interested in you.”

She gauges your reaction from above. You swing your leg back and forth, grinning at the floor again. You look up from the hallway tile floor, blush spreading across your cheeks.

“You’re…”, you lower you voice, almost whispering, “interested in me?”

Mizu hums again. Deep. Almost sweet as honey.

A little curious, she pushed for more.

“Why? You got a boyfriend waiting for your call?”, Mizu teases, pulling out her weapon, sharp and ready for murder.

“No, no girlfriend or anything.”

Oh.

Mizu freezes in place, completely taken aback by that response.

“Didn’t think I was into girls?”

Your voice rings in her head. Mizu snaps out of it, sheathing the blade as she peeks to see your reaction. You’re still standing in the empty hallway, smiling and continuing to twiddle with the phone, just waiting to be caught.

ghostface!mizu now even more interested in you, continues to toy and tease you over the phone, overwhelming you with interest.

ghostface!mizu positions herself by your window, ready to knock at your window as you continued to stick by the hallway phone.

“No, I just wanted to get to know who I’m looking at.”, she answers in a snarky tone.

Mizu looks down at you, squinting to get a closer look as your eyes widen, quickly darting around to find a sign of a living being. You grip the hallway phone for safety, scanning your surroundings before you speak into the device again.

“What did… you say?”

A shiver crawls up your spine. You heard that correctly, right?

Covered by the mask, a devilish smile spreads across Mizu’s face.

“I just wanted to get to know who I’m talking to.”

Deep down, your gut instantly knew that was not what she originally said.

“You... you didn’t say that.”, you point out as you double check your surroundings.

"You sure?"

From a late-night call to a creepy conversation, you were freaked out. It was all fun and games lying about your "favorite" activities, but this was getting a little too real. Being alone didn’t help your case, as you were now talking to a random stranger turned stalker.

On the other hand, Mizu stayed silent, watching you go crazy from above for the past 15 minutes. Mizu unsheathes her weapon, a silver blade that glistened a blue tint against the moonlight.

As fun as toying with you was, playtime’s over.

You hear a tap to the rhythm of "shave and a haircut" come from upstairs. You look up as you watch a door hang ajar, slightly swaying to the wind, its whistle now clear to you.

That was your bedroom. Your bedroom window to be exact.

"Your girlfriend is calling you.", you hear through the phone, teasing you. It's a much lower tone than the teasing voice you were talking to only 5 minutes ago.

You quickly smash the phone down, hoping it was just a prank call trying to creep random people out.

ghostface!mizu awaits in her hiding spot, waiting for your next move, as the whisper of the wind fills the silence.

ghostface!mizu rings your home phone once again, hearing the rings echo throughout the house. she takes another peek on you again to find you staring at the phone, ringing and ringing in front of you.

ghostface!mizu grins to watch you slowly reach for the phone, hesitating to pick it up and hear her voice again.

"Your girlfriend is waiting for your call."

You feel that same shiver crawl down your spine. Your gut is screaming one thing to your head: You're not alone.

You feel a pair of eyes watching you behind your back. Turning around, you only find darkness in your empty house.

Just put down the phone. Just put that shit down.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you.", the voice orders through the speaker.

You slowly pull the phone away, regardless of the warning, your eyes carefully watching outlines of the outside through the glass of the front door.

"I said don't hang up on me."

"And why should I listen?", you yell back.

Enough of these stupid games. Kids need fucking hobbies-

"Because I'm right behind you."

What.

ghostface!mizu is careful and quiet. so quiet that while you were distracted by the front door, you failed to check your blindspot: the staircase hidden in the dark.

ghostface!mizu holds the knife to your neck, letting the warmth of your body borderline bleed against the silver blade. smiling at her capture, she locks your right shoulder in place.

ghostface!mizu gets a closer look at you through the hallway mirror. not bad looking at all... maybe even one of the better-looking prey she's caught. it also helped you were wearing a little slip dress. you might as well have been wearing nothing.

"What do you want from me?"

"We can figure that out upstairs, pretty girl."

ghostface!mizu pushes you upstairs, step by step, the blade's tip teasing against the thin silk fabric, waiting for you to disobey her at every step you take

ghostface!mizu roughly pushes you onto your bed, her hands burning up in her glove as you look up in fear, maybe even in awe. Geez, you had prettier eyes than most she's seen this night.

"I'll do anything, just let me go to bed, please.", you beg.

It's sick, really. First, this random stranger talks and lowkey flirts with you, practically terrorizing you, and now they've locked the door and blocked the only exit, all the while calling you a pretty girl. You shouldn't even be remotely attracted to this person.

You feel their gloved hand, cruelly squeezing your burning cheeks. It's nasty how your stomach twists in fear... and attraction to their touch. Forced to look up at Mizu, you see a glimpse of their eyes through the mask.

Alluring ocean blue shining in the moonlight, focused, steady, patiently waiting for one wrong move from you.

"Anything?", Mizu coos, tilting her head as the blade presses down on your neck, letting go of your face as she forces you to lay down. Staring up, you let the moonlight help you assess your supposed killer.

Black from top to bottom, compression shirt emphasizing her lean body, prominent muscles down to the hips, and black baggy sweatpants to match.

You feel a knee in between your legs, pushing them apart. The mask inching so close to your face that you feel her breath.

"Be a good girl, will you?"

Deep down, you know you should be running away, planning to jump out the window, anything to escape. Yet the way their gloved hands caressed your cheeks, as the other hand rested the blade on your neck, made your stomach twist in a despicably good way.

You couldn't deny that her voice was enticing earlier, teasing you and playing along during your time on the phone together. You knew that was the core reason you kept up the act.

Well, that and the fact that she called you pretty.

Your body turning cold, you hummed in response.

"I w-will.", you say as you feel her knee gently hit your entrance.

It didn't help that you weren't wearing anything underneath that slip of yours.

You watched the masked figure slowly go down your body, one hand gently caressing your side, cupping your boob and squeezing it in pleasure, while the other dragged along your side, reminding you of the consequences of disobedience. They stop at your entrance, warm and dripping wet.

"You promise?", she teases, her knee further pushing against your dripping cavern.

Nodding profusely, Mizu hid the knife under the bed, as she pulled your body closer to her in hopes of getting all of your juices.

"I promise- ah..."

ghostface!mizu is glad you're such a pretty victim, obeying her every order as she scrunched up the lower half of your slip, gaining access to your dripping entrance, lapping in hopes of not leaving a single drop go to waste.

ghostface!mizu gauges your reaction as she enters one finger inside, and then two, and then three. every time, you always surprise her with how loud you get with every new digit entering your gummy walls. she gets even excited when you yelp at every time your fingers curl.

ghostface!mizu patiently waits for your hips to start acting out against your twisted, messed-up mind. with every squeeze of your hips, you feel them move on their own against her tongue, reaching deeper with every thrust in and out as she strategically placed her hands on your hips, guiding them along the way.

ghostface!mizu pulls back from the grinding to blow against your clit, making your cries 10x louder, before going back to face grinding

ghostface!mizu goes back for seconds, forgetting about her victim's death as her tongue swirled around your stimulated clit, making your head confuse itself in the chaos, fear, and pleasure of it all.

ghostface!mizu looks above to watch your chest fall up and down with every flick of her tongue, further pushing her to bring you close to your orgasm. she feels your entrance continue to pour out liquid, lubricating your burning hot entrance as your hips rode the lower half of her face. her upper half manages to keep the mask on.

ghostface!mizu feels your hips slow down, thus moving you back down on the bed. what she doesn't realize is you kissing her in the process, sharing the stickiness with you.

ghostface!mizu pauses in front of you, cursing to herself how pretty you are, before tearing off the mask completely and going back for another kiss, needy for your touch as the knife dances down your spine.

"You're being so good for me, angel.", Mizu coos, deepening the kiss with you.

Pulling away from the kiss, you feel the sharp point of the dagger poking your back.

"What a shame, you're just so delicious pretty girl."

The sharp pain of something entering behind you takes over, distracting you from the sweet talk you witnessed in front of you. As you push forward, your lips lock with hers one last time, before you feel a gush of liquid run outside your back.

You pull away one last time, getting a glimpse of her devilish smile sprawled across her face, and her eyes glowing in the midnight, before blacking out to your death.

[mechaknight-98]

Double D Dungeon Crawl (NSFW) FT Eunbi, Sejeong, Mina Kang, Somi

Operator’s Notes: I had a lot of ground to cover and tried to do capatilize as much as possible.

Disclaimer: I know none of these girls have double Ds

"Awe fuck Somi your tits are spectacular as always," Ivan says as his girlfriend casually strokes his cock with her tits.

"Are you close?" Somi asks with bright eyes hoping to get him to explode more than ever. However, their little tryst was interrupted when Ivan's alarm went off for DND.

“Oh shit, Somi, stop. I need to focus,” Ivan said, laughing as he lightly pushed her off, trying to keep his composure.

Somi pouted dramatically. “Focus? On what? Am I not enough of a distraction for you?” As she spoke she seductively juggled her tits hoping to entice Ivan to stay.

Ivan grinned, eyes still on his girlfriend. “Babe, it's Dungeons and Dragons night. Do you want to come? You’ll round out the party.”

Somi crossed her arms, tilting her head with mock suspicion. “Wait, who’s going?”

Ivan blinked, recollecting. “Uh… it’s Diovaldo, Flint, Mina, Eunbi, and me.”

“Eunbi? Who’s that?” Somi asked, her curiosity piqued.

“Oh, that’s Diovaldo’s girlfriend,” Ivan said casually. “She’s… interesting.”

“Interesting how?” Somi leaned closer, eyes narrowing playfully.

Ivan chuckled. “Well, Diovaldo met her at this screening for the new season of Ultraman, right? They stayed up ‘til like 4 a.m. talking about all things tokusatsu—like the whole deep dive into its impact on anime and… their lives.”

Somi raised an eyebrow, picturing a total nerd duo. “Oh, so she’s a nerd too, huh? She’s probably super frumpy and wears those huge anime shirts.”

“Actually, no,” Ivan said, shaking his head, a smirk playing on his lips. “She’s kinda… hot.”

Somi’s eyebrows shot up, not believing him for a second. “Hot? Really? Prove it.”

Ivan shrugged, pulling out his phone and scrolling for a photo. He handed it to her, and she blinked at the image of Diovaldo standing with a curvy, stylish woman.

“Oh shit, good for him!” Somi said, genuinely impressed. “I was expecting glasses and an Evangelion hoodie, but damn.”

Ivan laughed. “Yeah, right? Diovaldo kinda hit the jackpot.”

Somi handed his phone back with a smirk. “So what you’re telling me is, nerds are pulling hot people now. Is that your subtle way of telling me I’m too good for you?”

Ivan grinned, wrapping his arm around her waist. “Nah, it’s more like I’m Diovaldo in this situation.”

She raised an eyebrow. “And I’m Hyewo?”

“Obviously. You’re way out of my league, but somehow here you are,” he said, pulling her closer.

“Hmm, nice save.” Somi leaned into him. “Okay, fine, I’ll go. But you’re gonna have to do all the math for me, because that’s not happening.”

Ivan kissed her cheek. “Of course, babe. I got you.”

“Good. Now, when we win, I’m taking all the credit.”

Ivan chuckled, but then his face shifted as he realized something. “Oh crap, I gotta tell the group you’re coming.” He grabbed his phone and quickly started typing a message. “Sejeong and her boyfriend are gonna want to tweak the setup now.”

Somi rolled her eyes playfully. “You make it sound like they’re running a whole operation.”

Ivan grinned. “They are. You know how serious they get about this stuff.”

Somi nodded knowingly. “True, they’re like the eldest siblings of the group. Always organizing everything.”

A few moments later, Sejeong’s phone buzzed. She picked it up and smiled when she saw Ivan’s text about Somi joining the game. “Oh, this is gonna be fun,” she said to herself before turning to her boyfriend, who was focused on something at the other end of the couch.

“Hey, babe,” she called over. “Can you help me with making another player character?”

He looked up, intrigued. “Who’s it for?”

“Somi.”

A grin spread across his face. “Nice. That’ll shake things up.” He thought for a second, then narrowed his brow as he began mentally drafting character ideas. “How about… three levels in Bard and three levels in Sorcerer? That way we’ve got a solid caster, and she can throw in some chaotic fun. We’ll still have enough balance with the fighters.”

Sejeong’s eyes lit up. “Ooh, I like that! College of Eloquence for her Bard side and Wild Magic for Sorcerer. It’s totally her vibe.”

“Definitely,” he agreed, already imagining the wild, charismatic chaos Somi would bring to the table.

As they started refining the character, they began chatting about their friends, as they often did when planning game sessions. It was their way of making sure everyone had a good time. Sejeong had a knack for knowing just the right balance between engaging stories and letting her friends express their personalities through their characters. While her boyfriend excelled at gameplay and mechanical design.

“Diovaldo and Flint are gonna love this,” Sejeong said, scrolling through the character stats on her tablet. “You know how they love when things get crazy.”

“Especially Flint. He thrives on unpredictability,” her boyfriend added, tweaking some numbers. “Mina’s gonna roll her eyes, though. She’s all about the strategy.”

“True,” Sejeong laughed. “But that’s why she and Eunbi will probably end up teaming up—perfect balance. Mina’s tactical, Eunbi all about the story.”

He nodded thoughtfully. “Yeah, plus, Diovaldo’s probably gonna get distracted with Eunbi half the time anyway. They’re still in that honeymoon phase.”

Sejeong smiled warmly. “It’s cute, though. Let them have their fun.”

They both exchanged a glance, the kind of shared understanding that came from years of knowing their friends’ quirks. Sejeong and her boyfriend had always been the steady presence in the group, the ones everyone could rely on. Whether it was organizing game nights, offering advice, or helping to smooth over conflicts, they were the glue holding everyone together. And for this D&D session, it was no different.

With Somi joining, they knew it was going to be a more chaotic—but fun—night, and they were ready to embrace it.

“Okay,” Sejeong said, standing up and stretching. “Let’s send this to Ivan. Somi’s about to have a blast.”

Sejeong’s boyfriend nodded then said, “Oh we gotta tell everyone Somi is coming. I'll send the info to Flint and you can send it to Diovaldo," Sejeong nodded and watched him reach out to Flint and Mina.

A few seconds before they got the call, Mina and Flint were enjoying a quiet evening together. The warm glow from the kitchen light gave the room a soft, comfortable ambiance. Flint had just finished cooking a steak dinner, and the smell of garlic butter and rosemary filled the air.

Mina took a bite, savoring the flavors, then smiled contentedly. “This is really nice, babe,” she said, her voice full of appreciation.

Flint grinned, leaning back in his chair. “Glad you like it. Worked pretty hard on that steak, you know.”

“I can tell. It’s perfect,” Mina replied, reaching across the table to squeeze his hand.

Flint rubbed the back of his neck, his expression softening. “Well, it’s the least I can do after making you deal with Dio and Genta all the time.”

Mina raised an eyebrow, giving him a teasing look. “What do you mean by that? I love Diovaldo and Eunbi.”

“I know, I know,” Flint said with a chuckle. “It’s just… they can be a bit much sometimes. And it doesn’t help that Sejeong and Nicky egg them on. Dio’s got this chip on his shoulder the size of a whole Pringles can, and they just… they encourage him to do crazier and crazier stuff to prove himself.”

Mina leaned back, taking another bite before responding. “Let them have their fun. Besides, that chip on Dio’s shoulder has done a lot for us. He’s helped get us out of some tight spots these last two years.”

“Oh yeah? Like what?” Flint asked, raising an eyebrow in curiosity.

Mina gave him a knowing smile. “Like when you got detained by the police, and Diovaldo showed up with all the paperwork and got you out within an hour.”

Flint scratched his head, chuckling sheepishly. “Oh, right. I guess he’s not all that bad, then. But you gotta admit, the guy’s always desperate for a win. Any challenge that comes his way, he’s gotta take it. And now with Genta egging him on, it’s like they’re in some competition 24/7.”

Mina shrugged, her tone soft and understanding. “But that’s why they work so well together, don’t you think? They believe in each other so much, they think they can do anything. And look at them—they’ve made it happen. He pushes her, and she pushes him. He helped her win with her acting, and she helped him land that great job.”

Flint let out a sigh, leaning his head back against the chair. “Yeah, yeah, you’re right. I just wish they could turn it off sometimes, you know? Not everything’s a game to be won.”

Mina smiled fondly. “True, but then they wouldn’t be the Dio and Genta we love.”

They sat in comfortable silence for a moment, the soft clink of cutlery the only sound between them as they enjoyed their dinner. The evening felt peaceful, warm—a quiet moment that reminded them why they worked so well as a couple. Flint’s thoughtfulness, Mina’s easygoing nature—it all blended perfectly, creating a relaxed space where they could just be themselves.

As they were finishing up, Mina’s phone buzzed on the table. She glanced at it and squealed, her face lighting up with excitement.

Flint glanced up, amused by her reaction. “What is it, babe?”

Mina grinned, looking up from her phone. “Somi’s joining us for D&D tonight!”

“Oh, word? That’s great,” Flint said, leaning back with a smile. “It’ll be like a mini I.O.I reunion.”

“Yessir,” Mina said, still buzzing with excitement. “This is gonna be fun.”

Flint chuckled, seeing how happy she was. He loved these moments—just the two of them, enjoying a quiet evening, sharing excitement about something as simple as a game. It was in these little moments that he felt most connected to her.

Moving back to Sejeong and Nicky they are getting ready with the last few touches to Somi's character sheet, when they remembered they forgot to tell Diovaldo and Genta. Nicky makes the call.

The sound of rapid button-mashing filled the room as Diovaldo and Eunbi faced off in their latest match of Persona 4 Arena Ultimax. Both were completely focused, their faces illuminated by the glow of the screen.

“C’mon, you really think you can take me down?” Diovaldo teased, not looking away from the action. his hands dances around the top of his hitbox like a delicate dancers or the practiced measure of a trained pianist.

Eunbi shot him a sidelong glance, fingers moving furiously across the controller. “Please, I’m about to wipe the floor with you. You just wait.”

The match was close, each of them going through their block strings trying to crack the other's defensive options and abilities. The tension between them was palpable, but it was playful, electric—both a challenge and an invitation.

Just as Eunbi’s character moved in for what she thought was a finishing blow, Diovaldo grinned. “Too slow.”

He executed a perfect counter, watching as her health bar dropped to zero. The words K.O. flashed across the screen.

“What the hell!” Eunbi shouted, throwing her hands up as Diovaldo burst into laughter.

“Victory is mine!” Diovaldo crowed, leaning back against the couch with a smug grin. he cracked his knuckles with a relaxed ease.

Eunbi narrowed her eyes, not at all fazed by the loss. “Alright, big shot, that was pure luck. Rematch. You’re going down this time.”

“Oh, you think so?” Diovaldo shifted closer, his voice dropping as he playfully taunted her. “You really think you can handle me, babe?”

Eunbi raised an eyebrow, leaning in to match his energy. “Please, I think I can do more than handle you. Just watch.”

For a second, their eyes locked, and the air between them sparked. Their teasing was more than just competition—it was the way they communicated, the way they challenged and pushed each other, both in games and in life. Every match was a test of will, but also a way to get closer. In this heat, they kissed, as their passion melted shifted from the game to just the love of each other.

But just as the heat was beginning to light, Diovaldo’s phone buzzed on the coffee table.

Eunbi groaned as Diovaldo broke the kiss, rolling her eyes. “You better not answer that.”

Diovaldo glanced at the caller ID and sighed. “It’s Nicky. I gotta pick up—could be about the D&D game tonight.”

She sighed, leaning back into the couch. “Fine. But you owe me a rematch after this.”

“Deal,” Diovaldo said, giving her a quick peck on the cheek before answering the phone. “Yo, Nicky, what’s up?”

Nicky’s excited voice crackled through the speaker. “Hey, just wanted to update you. Somi’s joining us tonight for the session. Sejeong and I just finished her character sheet a few minutes ago.”

Diovaldo glanced at Eunbi, already imagining the chaos that Somi would bring to the game. “Oh man, Somi, huh? This is gonna be… interesting.”

“Yeah, buckle up, because we are doing a mega dungeon crawl tonight. See you tonight,” Nick added before hanging up.

Diovaldo set the phone down and grinned at Eunbi. “Looks like we’ve got a wild card tonight. You ready for some chaos?”

Eunbi smirked, grabbing her controller again. “Oh, I was born ready. But first, I’m kicking your ass in this rematch.”

Diovaldo laughed, already leaning in for round two. “Let’s see if you can back up that talk, Eunbi.”

And with that, they dove back into the game, the competitive energy between them as strong as ever, their passion fueled by every challenge thrown their way. After finishing up another set their alarm to leave went off, and they decided to finally get ready to go to Sejeong, and Nicky's home. On the way the grabbed pizza for everyone.  

the couple neared the door and Dio turned to Eunbi"you ready?" Diovaldo asks Eunbi as he carries the pizzas inside.

"Always. New Campaign new me." Eunbi replies confident. Diovaldo nods and follows her in as she holds the door open for them as he sets the pizzas down.

"Yay you brought food." Somi said excitedly before going up to Dio and giving him a kiss on the cheek. Eunbi glared subtly at the gesture before moving between the two "So you must be Somi. Ivan's girlfriend." she said coldly

Somi nodded before tilting her head noticing Eunbi’s Evangelion hoodie.

It did little to hide her figure but it brought Hyewob more in line with Somi's mental picture of her.

"Yep that's me Ivan's best girl," Somi said happily. Ivan has told me a little bit about you but I am curious. How did you get into this kind of stuff,"

Eunbi still dealing with her surging jealousy, gripped Diovaldo tight, "Well Dio invited me a few weeks ago and Sejeong and Nicky have been super kind. so I stayed."

Somi smiled, "Yeah that's our leader, always so kind."

after that, everyone gets their character sheets and settles in.

"You all awake in a tavern," Sejeong says but is interrupted by a knock on the door. Sejeong gestures for Dio to open it and is surprised to see Mordenkainen.

As Diovaldo got up to open the door, the atmosphere shifted, and everyone looked on with curiosity. He swung the door open, expecting maybe one of their friends to arrive late—but instead, a figure in long, flowing robes with a shock of white hair stood there, eyes gleaming with an intensity that sent a chill through the room. It was Mordenkainen himself, looming in the doorway with an expression of absolute outrage.

“Oh…wow,” Diovaldo stammered, trying to hold onto his usual bravado. “Uh…can we help you?”

Mordenkainen's gaze swept across the room, his intense eyes narrowing. "You… you have the audacity to play a game based on the lives of my friends and family? This is no laughing matter!"

The group exchanged confused glances. Nicky, who was co-DMing with Sejeong, took a deep breath, trying to regain some control. “Um, sir, we’re just… we’re playing a friendly game. This is just D&D, you know?”

Mordenkainen stepped inside, his robes swishing as he approached the center of the room, his voice resonant and thunderous. “A game? This… trivialization of my world—of the worlds beyond yours—is disgraceful! You mock battles that tore through realms, people who fought for their lives, stories bound by sacrifice. And you reduce it to dice and… pizza?”

Eunbi snorted, half amused, trying to hold back a laugh, but a sharp glance from Mordenkainen silenced her. Even Diovaldo, usually the bold one, shifted uncomfortably under his gaze.

“Listen,” Flint began, trying to reason with the imposing figure, “we’re not trying to insult anyone. We’re just… inspired by your world. It’s kind of a compliment?”

“Compliment?” Mordenkainen bellowed. He raised a hand, and with a snap of his fingers, the lights flickered, the walls trembled, and a portal swirled into existence, casting an eerie blue light across the room.

Sejeong, who’d been completely silent, finally found her voice, “Okay, hold on. No need for drastic measures. We’ll… uh… stop playing? We don’t want any trouble.”

“Oh, you’ll stop playing,” Mordenkainen said, a dangerous glint in his eye, “because you’ll be living it.”

With a wave of his hand, a flash of blinding light filled the room. Everyone felt a rush of wind and a strange tingling sensation as if they were being pulled apart and reassembled at the same time.

When the light faded, they found themselves sprawled on the ground, groggy and disoriented, their clothing now replaced with fantastical garb. Diovaldo glanced down at his attire, light armor with a scary-looking axe strapped to his back. Eunbi stood beside him, equally stunned, decked out in flowing robes adorned with ancient symbols.

“Wait… are we… are we in the game?” Somi asked, staring in awe at her new mage’s robes, a staff clutched in her hand.

Ivan, looking down at the armor that replaced his jeans and T-shirt, could only stammer, “This… this can’t be real. This… has to be a prank, right?”

Sejeong checked herself over, now clad in the resplendent armor she’d always envisioned for her character, a high-ranking cleric. She looked at Nicky, who was equally stunned, holding a bard’s lute.

“Oh my god,” she whispered, realization dawning. “This is real. We’re actually in the game.”

Mordenkainen’s voice echoed in their minds, seemingly coming from the sky itself, “Perhaps now, you’ll understand the gravity of the worlds you toy with. Prove yourselves worthy, and maybe—maybe—you’ll find a way home. Fail, and you’ll be trapped here as characters in this world forever.”

The group exchanged a mix of terrified and exhilarated glances, the reality of their situation beginning to sink in. Flint and Mina stood close together while Dio held his head as a headache started ringing in his ears. Eunbi approached him concerned. He winced when she touched his head as visions of gods and monsters swam through his head.

Taking charge he said firmly, “We should probably find the nearest town and find lodging before the night comes. The party nodded as they headed in the direction of smoke. That smoke led them to a town being overrun by skeletons resurrected by the evil Lich Nevinyrral. The group was first attacked but a quick reaction from Sejeong she took out a holy symbol and the skeletons turned away expeditiously… or they would if it weren't for the radiant glowing Diovaldo who slammed into another one and crushed another with his mighty great axe. He was able to clean up the rest as he turned the skeletons to dust. They noticed a dual inscription on it but none of them (except Dio) spoke or read the language.

After the battle, the remaining townspeople praised the heroes. They stood wary of Dio however due to his scarred face and body until the rest pushed him to the front.

"You saved us Why?" the mayor asked wary of the Scourge Aasimar with Dark red spots covering his body.

"Well we needed lodging and food for the night before we continue our journey. that's kinda hard when everyone is dead." Dio said.

The mayor laughed and said, "Well at least you all are practical. If you're not to opposed the church house can serve as your base of operations. if you so chose, since our god has abandoned us. We will bring food for you as well." The group noded then headed to the house of the Jade Seraph. the approach the church house solemnly, but as soon As Dio enters. He sees visions of more gods and battles causing him to collapse.

As their characters' memories merge with theirs Eunbi speaks up, "He's getting worse. What do we do?" Sejeong sighs and does another calm emotion spell on Dio hopefully stopping the progress of his ailment at least a little bit.

"We better find that Mage fast!" Flint asserts. Mina, Somi and Ivan nod before all finding places in the monastery. Dio finds a quiet corner to sleep in away from the group.

After settling in at the Jade Seraph’s monastery, Mina and Flint exchanged a glance, silently agreeing that they needed to get out for a bit. Flint leaned in close, whispering, “Let’s take a walk around the town. Maybe we can find out more about this world we’re stuck in—and get some alone time too.”

Mina smiled and nodded. She grabbed his hand as they slipped quietly out of the church house, leaving the others to recover and set up.

Outside, the town was still tense but slowly beginning to relax after the recent skeleton attack. Torches lined the cobblestone streets, and a few market stalls were cautiously reopening, their owners eyeing the streets warily, but there was a hopeful buzz in the air after the group’s intervention. The cool evening air and the faint smell of wood smoke brought a sense of calm to Flint and Mina as they wandered hand in hand.

They stopped at a small food stall run by an elderly woman selling what looked like hot skewers of spiced meat. Flint bought a couple, handing one to Mina with a warm smile. She took a bite, eyes lighting up as the taste hit her. “Wow, this is… actually really good,” she said, savoring the smoky, peppery flavors.

Flint laughed. “Gotta say, I didn’t expect food to taste this good here either. But I’ll take it. Now, if only we could figure out how long we’re going to be here…”

Just then, a tall, cloaked figure approached the stall, catching their attention. Flint subtly pulled Mina a bit closer as the figure ordered in a low, gravelly voice. Curious and cautiously friendly, Mina leaned toward him. “Excuse me, sir. We’re… new in town. Could you tell us what’s been going on here?”

The figure turned, revealing the face of a battle-worn man with a weary expression. He looked them up and down, nodding. “You’re not from these parts, are you? I can tell by your garb.” He cleared his throat and continued, “This town has been plagued by the dark magic of Nevinyrral. He’s a lich who’s been terrorizing the villages on the outskirts for years now, resurrecting the dead to do his bidding. Every few months, he sends his skeletons to wreak havoc and remind us of his power.”

Mina’s eyes widened. “And… the gods? We heard the people talking about a god abandoning the town.”

The man spat on the ground bitterly. “The Jade Seraph, our patron godess, hasn’t answered our prayers for years. Some say she’s left us for good, while others whisper she’s been captured by Nevinyrral himself, his powers drained for dark purposes.”

Flint’s hand tightened around Mina’s. “Do you know of anyone in town who might be able to help us? Someone with knowledge of the gods, or perhaps even magic?”

The man glanced around cautiously, then nodded. “Seek out Elara, the town’s herbalist and a follower of the Old Ways. She has knowledge of magic—more than she lets on. You’ll find her on the edge of the forest, near the willow grove. But be careful. She doesn’t trust strangers.”

“Thank you,” Mina said, dipping her head in gratitude. She exchanged a look with Flint, excitement and apprehension in her eyes. “We’ve got a lead now,” she murmured as they continued walking.

As they made their way to the forest’s edge, the town’s rustic charm was replaced by an eerie quiet. Shadows danced beneath the trees as they approached a small, ivy-covered cottage with lanterns lighting a narrow path. Inside, Elara was mixing herbs when she noticed them standing hesitantly at her door.

“Strangers,” she said, her tone wary but intrigued. “You seek answers. Why?”

Flint stepped forward. “We’re not from here. We were… brought to this world by magic, and now we’re looking for a way to go back. But it seems there’s more going on here than we realized. We want to understand this place, to help where we can.”

Elara’s gaze softened. “If you wish to learn, then enter. But understand that knowledge here often comes with a price.” She motioned them inside, and they followed her, exchanging a brief, reassuring look.

The air inside the cottage was thick with the scent of herbs and old parchment. Elara gestured for them to sit, and as she began to tell them more about the lich, the town’s lost god, and the ancient magic that bound their world, Mina and Flint listened intently, feeling as if the pieces of a larger puzzle were finally beginning to fall into place.

For the first time since they’d arrived, they felt a glimmer of hope—not only that they might find a way home, but that they could make a difference here, maybe even defeat Nevinyrral himself.

As Mina and Flint slipped out, the remaining group settled into the dimly lit corners of the monastery. Dio sat by one of the worn pews, his back against the cold stone wall, looking drained and uneasy. Eunbi noticed him from across the room, a thoughtful look on her face. After a few quiet moments, she made her way over to him, sitting down beside him and resting her hand on his.

“Hey,” she said softly, breaking the silence. “How’s the head?”

Dio exhaled, his gaze fixed on the dusty wooden floor. “Feels like I’ve been caught in a storm I can’t see. Visions, memories that aren’t mine… They just keep flooding in.” He looked at her, his eyes clouded with confusion and something else—fear. “Genta, I don’t even know what’s real anymore.”

She reached out, gently cupping his face, brushing her thumb across his cheek. “We’re here, Dio. Right here, together. That’s real.”

He leaned into her touch, a small measure of comfort slipping through the tension he was holding onto. “It’s not just the visions,” he murmured, voice barely audible. “I feel… different. Stronger, but also… angry. Like there’s something in me I can’t control.” He clenched his fists, and for a second, they glowed with a faint, radiant energy before dimming again. “It’s like I’m becoming something else.”

Eunbi laced her fingers with his, squeezing his hand firmly. “I get it. I don’t have whatever this new power is like you do, but I feel like… part of me is changing here, too.” She paused, her own vulnerability showing. “Being here, seeing you go through this… It makes me think about what we have. What if we don’t get back home? What if this is all we’ve got?”

Dio looked at her, eyes softening. “Then… we’ll make this place ours. If this is where we’re meant to be, we’ll find a way to live and be happy, no matter what.” He brushed a strand of her hair behind her ear, his hand lingering. “But if we get back, I want to make sure I don’t leave anything unsaid. I don’t want to waste time, not with you.”

Eunbi’s breath hitched, and she held his gaze. “Me neither,” she whispered, her hand sliding up to his shoulder as she leaned in. “I don’t want to hold back anymore, Dio. Not in here, and not out there.”

They shared a kiss, soft and lingering, a grounding force in the whirlwind of uncertainty. For that brief moment, the world around them faded away, leaving only the warmth between them, a promise that even in this strange, unfamiliar place, they had each other.

When they pulled back, Dio sighed, a bit of the tension easing from his shoulders. “Whatever happens, Genta… you and me, we’ll face it together. I promise.”

She nodded, her expression resolute. “Together.” Dio nodded as Eunbi brought him in for a kiss. her hands cupped his face gently as they kissed again. Eunbi smiled.

"You smell so nice. Like Oranges Vanilla ice cream" she said. Dio smiled as they kissed, again. his hands found purchase on her chest.

"No matter the world you still drive me crazy, and I love you," Dio said.

Eunbi smiled as she undid her armor and dress before saying, "prove it."

Sejeong and Nicky settled by a low fire in the monastery’s quietest corner, their voices hushed. Nicky leaned in close, his expression tense. “We really need to talk about Dio’s backstory. If we’re actually in this world, then… well, his 'Creator' might actually exist out here, and he could be looking for him.” Sejeong looked over at Dio, who was resting uneasily in a far corner, shrouded in shadows. “You mean the necroalchemist,” she whispered. “The one obsessed with ascension? With turning one of his creations into a god?” “Yeah,” Nicky nodded, his voice barely audible. “Remember, Dio was his closest success. He wasn’t just made; he was made to be perfect, to force a kind of unnatural divine evolution.” Nicky’s voice grew even lower. “If the Creator is here, he’ll be hell-bent on finishing what he started.” Sejeong shivered, the weight of the situation sinking in. “So if Dio’s backstory holds true here, it’s not just a dangerous world—it’s a hostile one. One that might see him as either a target or as a prized possession. We’re going to have to protect him, and… well, he’s going to have to face things he never signed up for.” Nicky nodded slowly, his eyes on Dio, the weight of their shared responsibility settling on them both. “We’ll watch his back. But we need to prepare him too… there are things even he doesn’t know about his origin, and if we don’t tell him soon, the truth might catch up with him before he’s ready.” Sejeong clenched her jaw, steeling herself. “Alright. When the time comes, we’ll make sure he knows.”

[zenithofstories]

i didn't do a post last week cause i didn't have many thoughts; it was a pretty chill session. people got frustrated about the food situation and they set up bases *shrugs*

But this week...

snail week was fucking crazy

-first of all; Etho and Tango's predictions that the session would have seven deaths and end with three people on yellow—lolololoollolololol. three people on red and who knows how many deaths total. Jimmy died four times in the first like ten minutes 😭😭😅 also, how many individual times did Skizz turn red? three? in one session? hilarious

-the snails put them all in such peril that for the most part, they forgot who their allies and enemies were and just talked to everyone and anyone, sharing info. Tango and Joel, Tango and Skizz (admittedly after Skizz killed Tango), Skizz and Scar, Grian and Jimmy (Jimmy just straight up warned Grian that his snail was coming mid argument), Tango and Joel and Gem, Bdubs complimenting Skizz for his kill on Tango. And everyone just mourning everyone who died, even if they should have been rejoicing. They all just forgot they were playing a death game

-Martyn, Mumbo, Jimmy and Scott recognised the 'theory' or 'thought experiment' (meme lol). (i'm pretty sure Lizzie recognised it too, she just didn't want to say it so explicitly) Now we know who our meme lords are 🤣 (plus Grian chose the wildcard 😂) (the complete contrast to Etho who just let it walk right up to him lol) (and Jimmy who let it walk right up to him and then recognised it 😭😅)

-Pearl has an interesting habit of dying early each session and discovering wildcard mechanics in the process, helping her team to survive. I firmly believe that Jimmy still has the canary curse, but Pearl appears to be the wildcard canary

-we got this season's (first??) Tango Rage™ and it was because Scar burnt down his base lol. fork found in kitchen

-a whole lotta shitty assassination attempts lolololol. Skizz vs Impulse and Big B with the cobwebs without any snails close by, Jimmy trying to blow up a light green (illegal) and putting Skizz on red (very illegal), Ren vs Impulse (which was admittedly successful but only just, and didn't follow the plan), Skizz chasing Lizzie down, Bdubs trying desperately to convince Gem and Joel to sacrifice themselves to their snails so they would know their names, Jimmy trying to set Scott's snail on fire, Jimmy with all his tnt minecarts, probably more i've forgotten

-also a few pretty good ones, to be fair. Impulse distracting Etho from the creeper, Skizz vs Tango, Skizz chasing Scar into an underwater ravine, Scar and Jimmy drowning Bdubs' snail in a hole so he had to get close to free it,

-everyone just loved their snails lol. a bunch of people said they would miss their snails, and called them cute. Tango was overjoyed that his said 'yahoo' and stated it could kill him any time lol. (admittedly a few {Ren, Bdubs} called theirs freaks)

-i really love this series. i love when people are obviously having fun, and I love the sound of laughter. This series is honestly one of the most fun things on the internet. Joel's giggle especially is fantastic

-Lizzie: "i better not walk off a cliff in f5 mode. rookie mistake" 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣 I can't tell if that was shade for Scar's first death or just a coincidence 🤣🤣

-so many snail cams 😂

-Skizz had better get credited for Scar drowning; it didn't register automatically and i desperately hope that they don't forget to give him a life for that. he totally killed Scar

-Grian, Mumbo and Lizze with absolute mega amounts of courage (or stupidity) and going underground. like just incredibly dangerous adventures to go where they have so little options for escape. massive respect for all three of them. also Martyn and Etho going to the nether to be fair

-the plot to turn snails invisible was so devious, and i'm so glad it worked, but pretty sad it happened to be Scar's. Ren should still get the credit for it though

-we ended the session with three people on red: Skizz, Scar and Tango, and four people on yellow: Ren, Jimmy, Pearl and Mumbo. i desperately desperately hope that no one gets eliminated next week. four episodes would be a devastatingly short season.

-Joel's shock at all the deaths was pretty funny lol

-Joel and Lizzie organised a meet-cute for their snails?? omfg!

-the snails are voiced by Oli (theOrionSound)? 😂 lololololololoolol

-i hope y'all have seen @rusty-courage's in a Nutshell this week; it's the cutest thing i have ever seen and perfectly encapsulates the vibes of the session

-hilarious how much Bdubs regrets the 'tuff guys' bit

-Martyn referring to Joel's 'forty-second obsidian' 🤣🤣🤣

-the family-friendly insults are great 😂 'jerk' is always fun, and Pearl's 'stinky butt' is hilarious

-the G's racing their snails up bam mountain was pretty funny

-Pearl saying 'i can see your sparkles, sir' and Ren not being able to help laughing. my beloveds

-Poor Jimmy is so determined to win, or at least break the canary curse, and he was so disappointed when he died so many times. he almost rage quit when the second creeper blew him up 😭

so i've just finished watching all the first episodes, so i wanted to give my thoughts on the first Wild Life session:

-so much fun i love it so much. i'm so glad they're all still having fun and continuing the series, and that Mumbo and Lizzie came back, despite dying early in Secret Life (i was a tiny bit worried they might get a bit dejected and pass on this one). also thrilled Ren is able to play this time; he's a blast

-there is a lot of mistrust going around which is very curious to me. most of it stems from previous seasons and has no bearing on what was happening at the time. Pearl straight up telling Cleo she expected her to betray her; Mumbo and Skizz not trusting Martyn, and then Grian; and then not trusting that Martyn just wanted to use their enchanter; the huge immediate aggression towards Scar when he came out of the mountain into Grian, Skizz and Mumbo's base; Mumbo not trusting Skizz (his teammate!) when he asked for someone to pass him a diamond; Scott, Cleo, Pearl and Impulse assuming Joel stole their cows, probably more i'm forgetting. it's definitely obvious to me that these people have learnt how the games work and learnt from the pain (as we do). i'm very curious to see if the general server mistrust grows, and the impact it has on everyone and the people

-i love JImmy, Big B, Lizzie and Ren forming a dnd party and Ren (in true bardic fashion) has a guitar within reach and is willing to break into song at the first campsite (this honestly might be my favourite moment from all the life series at the moment. the guitar within reach, Ren's beautiful voice, how much the others thought it was great. fantastic vibes all around)

-i really want Scar and Martyn to team up. they are both instantly mistrusted, to the point that both of them (in their first episodes, no less) expressed that if people are going to treat them like a villain, then they may as well act like it. if the two of them team up to take revenge on everyone being mean to them in a new series i think they would be a force to be reckoned with

-Skizz and Mumbo is a fantastic team-up. both very genuine people who are so funny together

-i hope they get the lag fixed, or that it was just from the size-changing mod and they don't have to deal with it for the rest of the series

-Gem and Joel's partnership - in the early days Gem is going to be a fantastic counterbalance for Joel; help keep him calmer and curb his wild ideas. But once Gem gives in to her own urges... oh boy

-does Big B know that he can go caving with people? cause he seemed to be under the impression that he had to get geared out before he could make friends and it would suck if he ended up alone all the time because it hasn't occurred to him that he can go caving with people right at the start

-double life thought: i know most people count Pearl as the winner, but did Scott technically win as well? cause they were the last pair alive, and died in the same tick. it probably doesn't matter at all, but i wonder about it sometimes (especially in how it would affect Martyn's lore but that's not canon)

-i don't think Jimmy has broken the canary curse. i subscribe to the theory that cause Lizzie died in the End, the Watchers weren't able to perceive it and then he was the first to die in the Overworld (i'm not counting Real Life as canon; it happened and i enjoyed it but it wasn't a full series and they were deliberately playing it silly as an april fool's joke. very glad that Cleo won though. hope they get a full series win as well)

-i'm glad that Tango and Skizz (deliberately) didn't team together, but i kinda wish Tango had ended up in a different group. him, Etho and Bdubs are fun, don't get me wrong, but a whole lot of the fun of the series is seeing people interact and work with people they don't usually. Tango and Jimmy was a top tier pairing in Double Life, and Tango is hilarious. i would love to see him branch out more and work with some more people

-there is more than just the wild card. Grian said he wasn't going to explain it, and i didn't notice anything else happening (but i'm also not expecting it to be much until they get to the late game). i think that there will be a wild card that affects the players, and then also something that affects the world? we'll see, i guess

-now that everyone who has played is playing (i'm pretty sure? if i've forgotten someone i'm gonna be sad) who is gonna sub in if needed?

-i love Mumbo's "that was sub-one intelligence mate" when they all fell 🤣

-i'm not sure what the purpose of including the creakings or whatever they're called? nevermind i just looked it up and they're going to be in the game at some point. weird. i'm not sure how i feel about creakings coming to minecraft though

-very glad they've got six lives this time. it will both allow them to not worry so much about mistakes and accidents (as evidenced by Pearl) and encourage them to take risks, which will be fantastic