#make it happen more but be more subtle that way players will notice but not be entirely sure if it's deliberate or not

[gibbearish]

also the fact that you can't choose not to deactivate roxy to get an alternate ending sucks. like have her know Something is wrong in the pizzaplex and if you choose not to deactivate her she mentions it to you and you help her out from under the car and she tags along with you freddy style as you investigate. have roxy mentioning weird shit make cassie put the dots together that gregory sure sounded like a computer splice earlier. have her question why the weird mask that stabbed her in the brain to implant a chip with no warning has been very insistent about turning off security systems. have her question why, if gregory asked her to meet him at the pizzaplex, he would leave behind a walkie talkie and then get himself stuck rather than just wait for her. and have /that/ be what gives you access to the scooper ending rather than just Zooming Out Some Cameras. also make the bonnie stuff actually have something to do with the plot dude people are super interested in that they wouldve been ECSTATIC if youd brought glamrock bonnie back for real, especially if hed somehow gotten revenge on monty, like say if you did get all the pat pats (dumb name btw) instead of deactivating him, you REactivate him, but have him be disoriented and need time to actually wake up so all he can do is like save cassie from monty at some point

[strcwbrryklss]

PT 2 OF MUSTANG NEOWWWW

ok fine guys… i do as the masses plead

୨୧﹕ mustang .ᐟ part two

pairing ; au!nicholas chavez x fem!reader contains ; 80s alternate universe , tension , enemies to lovers , smut ( oral fem receiving , secret public touches ) a/n ; 1980s alternate universe where nicholas is a rich kid/tennis player alongside y/n. summary ; after a heated interaction in the back of nicholas’ mustang, tension arises between the two during a formal dinner party.

Y/N COULDN’T GET nicholas out of her head. the feeling of his gentle touch against the skin on her upper thighs, contrasted with his rough, passionate kissing. the smell of cologne mixed with sweat as they both breathlessly grasped onto one another. the sounds he made when she dug her nails into his back. she got butterflies just by thinking about it — but at the same time, it felt wrong.

the boy she was supposed to hate, the boy she despised until yesterday — he’s who she’s fantasising about?

it’s as if her world was flipped upside down, and sitting here now at this long dinner table, sat beside him, it was not doing her any favours.

this happens every year. for 46-year-old marie bardot’s birthday, her and her husband invite the whole neighbourhood for a large meal which is completely paid for by them (the only reason why everyone turns up). it was the kind of formal dinner y/n hated — endless chatter, delicate plates, and forced smiles. and to make matters worse, every single time she is seated to the left of nicholas alexander chavez. it was always a burden, really, but now she can’t tell if she’s enjoying it, or hating it even more.

they hadn’t looked up at each other once — maybe a glance or two, but not while the other was looking. nicholas nodded along as he ate his meal, listening to his father ramble on about something he really didn’t seem interested in.

y/n was extremely bored as her social butterfly of an older sister had conversations with almost everyone. she’d speak to her sometimes, asking for her input, “do you agree, y/n?”, to which she would respond with a “hm?” or a nod as she ate.

the first brush of his knee against hers came as a shock.

she blinked, thinking maybe it was an accident. the space under the table was narrow, after all. she shifted in her seat, determined to focus on the conversation with the family on the other side of the table that her sister was trying to engage her in.

but then it happened again.

this time, the contact was more deliberate. his knee pressing lightly against hers under the table, lingering for a second too long before pulling away. her breath caught in her throat, heart speeding up in a way she didn’t expect. not here, not now…

she dared a glance up, only to find him looking at his father next to him, completely unfazed as he listened to the conversation. if he noticed what he was doing, he didn’t let it show, but y/n wasn’t fooled.

the next time his knee grazed hers, her entire body tensed. this time, she didn’t move away. the contact was so subtle, but it sent sparks up her spine. her knee shifted slightly against his, testing the waters, her heart pounding as the pressure grew.

her eyes flicked up to him again, and their gazes met. nicholas’ expression remained neutral, but something flickered in his eyes — something teasing, something knowing. it was like a silent dare.

she didn’t pull back, she couldn’t. instead, she let her knee remain against his, feeling the warmth of his legs against hers.

and then, just as she was getting used to the subtle pressure of his knee, nick’s hand slid under the table.

her breath hitched as his fingers found her thigh, his touch slow and deliberate, the heat of his palm pressing against the thin fabric of her dress. it was so subtle, so hidden hidden from the view of everyone else at the table, but it felt impossibly bold. her skin burned where his hand rested, seeping through her body like wildfire.

y/n tensed, glancing quickly around the table to see if anyone had noticed, but everyone was too absorbed in their own conversations. nicholas’ face remained impassive, not giving away a single thing as his hand stayed on her thigh, his thumb tracing light, teasing circles against her skin.

the girl bit the inside of her cheek, torn between pulling away and staying exactly where she was. she was supposed to hate him, despise everything about him. but from their activities in the backseat of his car yesterday, and the feeling of his hand on her thigh right now, so possessive and confident, had her feeling things she wasn’t prepared to admit. it was infuriating how much she liked the sensation, the quiet rebellion of their bodies underneath the table whilst everyone remained oblivious.

she swallowed hard, her breath shallow as her pulse raced. his hand tightened just slightly on her thigh, fingers pressing into her flesh in a way that made her entire body tingle. she couldn’t think straight, couldn’t focus on the conversations happening around them. all she could think about was the pressure of his hand, the way his thumb stroked her skin, and how much she hated that she liked it.

he leaned slightly closer, his breath warm against her ear as he spoke in a low voice, too quiet for anyone else to hear. “i thought you’d move away by now.”

y/n’s heart skipped a beat, her face flushing as she tried to maintain her composure. she could say something snarky, something to put him in his place, but the words caught in her throat.

nicholas chuckled softly, the sound sending a ripple of sensation through her. his hand slid slightly higher on her thigh, fingers grazing the edge of her dress, sending another surge of warmth through her. she gripped the edge of the table, nails pressing into the wood as her breath came in short, shallow bursts.

“i knew you liked it,” he murmured, his voice smooth and infuriatingly confident.

her gaze snapped to his, anger flaring for just a moment, but it was swallowed by the heat of the moment, by the way his hand made her feel. she wanted to push him away, to make him stop, but at the same time, she didn’t. the thrill of it, the secrecy, the way her body was reacting to him—it was intoxicating.

“i hate you,” she whispered, her voice shaky but filled with conviction.

nick’s smirk deepened, his hand squeezing her thigh in response, “sure you do” before letting go and excusing himself.

the boy stood up next to her, sliding his chair back, that same infuriating smirk tugging at his lips. but now, there was something else there too: a challenge, a promise. his gaze lingered on her for a second too long before he turned and began walking towards the restrooms.

y/n stayed behind for a moment, her heart still racing. she should be furious, disgusted, even — but she wasn’t. not even close. if anything, she was intrigued.

and so, she then excused herself to her family before leaving for the restrooms.

the girl turned the corner, being met with the sight of nicholas. he swiftly cupped her cheeks and kissed her in a haste, being rough and passionate, just as she remembered.

“took you long enough” he said breathlessly between kisses as they made their way over to the family bathroom, opening and shutting the door behind them, making sure to lock it.

nicholas pushed y/n up against the wall, placing sloppy kisses on her neck once again as his hands ran up and down her dress.

“i’m a busy girl” she responded, causing him to chuckle against her skin, sending vibrations down her spine.

he pulled back, looking her up and down, admiring her, “you look so good in that dress”

“shut up” y/n spoke, grabbing him by the back of the neck and kissing him breathlessly as nick put his hand on her lower thigh, pulling it up towards his hips.

he then started kissing down her face and neck, taking his time at her breasts before getting down onto his knees, pulling her leg over his shoulder.

her breath hitched once more, and she cursed herself mentally for the way her body betrayed her, however looking down at him now, looking so desperate but dominant, part of her loved every second of it.

nicholas continued to look up at her, watching her every reaction as he began kissing her inner thigh. the sting of his touch against the chafed skin from yesterday sent a rush up her body, causing her to wince slightly before he moved further up her leg, eventually meeting her underwear.

y/n pulled her dress up, determined to be able to see his face. her heart raced before he began planting soft, intimate kisses on her clit, over her underwear. a slight gasp could be heard escaping y/n’s lips, causing nick to smile against her crotch as he continued to do this. he spoke in between kisses, “i can feel how wet you are already”.

the vibrations against her skin sent shivers down her spine. there was something about how wrong this was, that made it feel so right.

nicholas’ fingers made their way towards the waistband of her panties, and slowly pulled them down to her knees. she was exposed now, all for him to see.

her skin getting exposed to the cold air created goosebumps up her arms. he smirked, looking up at her before engulfing her cunt with his mouth.

y/n let out an unexpected moan, quickly covering her mouth with her hand. nicholas laughed, causing the sensation to become even bigger. she put her hand on his head, her fingers tangled in his hair as he began to use his tongue in circular motions.

she whispered, “fuck nick”, looking down to see him smirk as he looked up at her.

it didn’t take long until y/n came undone, her fingers now gripping his locks as her legs shook. nicholas used his hands to keep her balanced, one reached up to her breast while the other gripped her hip.

once she was finished, nicholas got up from his knees, pulling her underwear up for her. he then looked down at her, a mischievous smirk on his face, “still hate me now?”

part i | part ii

[bunnyhugs77]

Valentine Vixen

★Pairing: Stripper! Reader x Rich! Jungkook

★Happy Valentine's Day, Mwah

★WC: 3k

★Content: some fluff, clubbing, jk is so cute, he gets flustered, teasing, mutual pining, ft player! tae, reader is so hot, mentions of break ups, lap dances, double life, suggestive themes, a smidge of angst, brief psychology talk, mentions of boobs.

Other Content: desperate kisses, domme reader, hand jobs, grinding, almost cumming in pants, oral sex (m! receiving), subby jk. handcuffs, desperate jk, reader is a tease, nicknames, manhandling

"Look, that's her." With a subtle jut of his head, Jungkook directs Taehyung's line of sight about twenty meters off into the distance where you step up on the step ladder to shelve more novels.

Tae's eyes widen ever so slightly before his face relaxes into an all-knowing smirk, "So this is what's got you spending so much time at the library lately?" Jungkook shoves him in the side and you pretend not to notice the two of them obviously staring at you.

Letting your short acrylics graze over the spines of the paperbacks, pinpointing where the book in your hand should go. "I can't see her face from here, but I know a nice ass when I see one," Tae states obnoxiously and it makes Jungkook's face turn sour.

"C'mon, Tae." The elder rolls his eyes, "Lighten up. It's just a joke. Hopefully, tomorrow will help you chill out a bit." With an arched brow, Jungkook turns to face his best friend. "Tomorrow?"

"It's Valentine's Day, and I think it's about time you got some ass, Kook. Seriously, when's the last time you had a nice pair of tits in your face, huh?" Jungkook's cheeks flush but he does think about Tae's question.

After no more than a second had passed Tae interrupted his thoughts, "See. You can't even remember, don't worry. That's why I'm here. You're bound to get your dick wet at Red Haven tomorrow, the dancers there are next level." Tae raves, hands waving around to express his eagerness.

Red Haven was the new club that opened not too far from campus but it attracted a lot more than just some touch-deprived university students. Men were ranging from the ages of twenty-one to sixty-five.

"But-" Jungkook was about to object but Tae had picked up a call, reassuring the person on the other end of the line, "Maria, you know you're the only girl in my life." He coos and his face freezes, "Oh shit, this is Jessica? Baby, I was just joking. I don't even know a Maria." Tae walks off trying to save himself from the deep hole he'd dug himself into.

Leaving Jungkook at the table by himself once again, his eyes naturally gliding back to where you once were but he couldn't see you. His feet guided his brain over to the bookshelves where you once stocked away hardcovers.

He stops in his tracks as he lays his eyes on a certain book that caught his eye. 

In your head

"That's a good choice." You startled him, the book slipping from his grasp and hitting the ground. The two of you reach down for it at the same time which in practicality wasn't a good idea. The impact of your heads colliding nearly knocked you to your feet.

"I'm so sorry," He apologizes, gaze checking in on you while you worked on picking up the novel off the floor. "I should be the one saying that. I didn't mean to scare you." You say, finally making eye contact and nothing could stop Jungkook from holding his breath.

You're breathtaking.

Beautiful dark brown eyes that held the most innocently seductive eye contact. The way your tan skin dimpled in your cheeks and the perfect formation of waves that your hair mimicked as it flowed down your shoulders.

"I've seen you around here a few times but I never got your name." Jungkook does his best to be subtle as he fishes for your name. It wasn't exactly the most discreet but you think it was a cute effort.

"I'm Y/n," You smile, handing him the book back and he just about collapses inside. Anything you wanted he would give it to you, and he's rich, he could make it happen. God, he would make sure you never had to lift a finger around him.

"I'm J-" It seems he didn't need to introduce himself because you already seemed to know him. "-Jungkook, right? The Dean's son." He sighs, of course.

That's how everyone knew him.

Being the son of the dean at the most prestigious university in the country wasn't something easy to escape. It continued to precede him anywhere he went. "Have you read it?" Your perfectly manicured finger points towards the book now in his possession and he nods.

"It's incredible, the way it examines the interplay between conscious and unconscious desires. I think it's pretty amazing." You blink once, then twice. "Don't pin me for the reading type, right?"

"Honestly, no, but trust me, I'm the last person who should be judging based on first impressions." He smiles at the sound of your soft chuckle. "Do you like psychology?" Your gaze now focused back to the shelves, "I hope so, I wouldn't want to be taking that major and not like it." You turn to him.

"You're a psychology major?" The tone of your voice gave away your disbelief but he wanted to know why this was so shocking.

"Yeah?"

"Weird. Usually, we would've had at least one class together if we shared the same major." He swallows thickly, briefly zoning out because he realizes he is talking to you. Finally, after months of watching you from a distance, trying to work up the nerve to approach you.

Getting too stuck in his thoughts, he loses his ability to speak. Settling for a hum of agreement. You sigh, disappointed. "What a shame. I would've liked having a cutie in my class like you." Your finger gently traces along his jaw and it feels like fire against his skin.

Before he could blink you were strutting away. Hips swaying like you were on a runway, he licks his lips. He'd never fumbled so badly before, but your beauty was something entirely different. It made him disoriented. He needed to get a grip.

Who would've thought the cute library assistant was so...tempting?

★★★

"Hey, Kook! I don't know If I'll be able to stay with you much longer. The bartender is giving crazy fuck me eyes and I can't leave her disappointed now can I?" Tae grabs his friends by the shoulder amidst the crowd of moving bodies.

"What about Maria?" Jungkook questions, referring to the woman Tae had spent all day before this one buttering up in hopes she would forgive him. Tae shrugs, "She'll forgive me again." Jungkook scoffs as he watches the silver-haired man travel through the sea of bodies.

Sometimes he couldn't believe that was his best friend, but he had to remember he wasn't always like this. This was just some terrible hoe phase he was going through.

He had gotten out of a 3-year-long relationship with Yara no more than 3 months ago and he's been on some sort of fucking spree ever since. He claims he feels so 'free' but deep down he was hurting and Jungkook knew that, but Tae refused to admit it.

But what could he do? It was a canon event and he couldn't interfere, even though he tried to once. Didn't end well. Tae was on a hunt for as many women as he could get, and he knew that eventually he would get sick of it and regain his senses.

His mind was pulled out of his thoughts once the entire venue went black for a few moments and the music was shut off. Jungkook was confused, maybe even a bit scared but it seemed there was no need to be as the crowd roared to life.

It seems they knew something he didn't.

"Introducing Red Haven's Vixens!" The announcer's voice rang through the speakers but the crowd was so much louder.

Jungkook was deep into the middle section of the audience so it was hard for him to get a clear view of the stage but he could see eight beautiful women walking onto the stage, in outfits he could probably use to floss.

There were so many colours on the stage. It was as if he'd died and been brought to the end of the rainbow where the sexiest guardian angels waited to bring him to heaven. Although there was one that piqued his interest.

All the girls were wearing some form of unique face paint that was accessorized with rhinestones, each one matching the general colour scheme of their outfits. There was something about the girl in the hot pink two-piece.

Jungkook fought to make his way to the front, face now up close to the base of the stage, looking up to the woman with hearts in his eyes. The way her hips swayed with the music, and her ass jiggled with each sharp movement.

She was a natural, with one hand on the pole she leaned back, looking right into the crowd. Her eyes scanned for a target before they landed on Jungkook as she began to grind your hips down onto it, making such a lewd expression.

She bit her lip and furrowed her brows just like one would as if they were close to- A shock ran through his body. It was you. Even with the gems and the paint around your eyes, he knew it was you, and by the slight smirk that crept up your lips, you knew he recognized you.

Once the performance was over Jungkook had found his way back to the front counter, eyes desperately scanning over the list of private sessions they offered. "How much would it cost for a room with the girl in pink?"

The clerk reminds Jungkook, "A private session grants you a private dance from one of our vixens. No touching of any kind is permitted unless granted by the Vixen, you must-" The rest of the rules were no brainers and Jungkook desperately wished he could fast forward the long speech.

"Got it. How much?"

"Well, Destiny is our Vixen of the highest demand, a 10-minute session could cost you up to five hundre-" Jungkook couldn't take it anymore. "I'll give you a thousand." He interrupts and the woman's jaw drops. She promptly hands him the key, "Third door on your left."

He'd been sitting in the nicely decorated room for the last five minutes. He was sitting on the chair that faced the door, his right leg bouncing uncontrollably. He was so nervous, and if he was being honest, he was already sporting a semi just from the thought of you walking through that door any second now.

The lights in the room flickered from the bright blue as it strobed to a gentle purple before a deep pink. The door opened, and there you were. In the same outfit you'd worn on stage except this time the music had changed to Wild Side.

"It is you." Jungkook gasps cutely as you take confident strides towards him. "Right, you are." Your heels made you tower over him once you stood before him.

"B-But- why?" You laugh, "The same reason why billions of other people have jobs. I've got an expensive tuition that won't pay for itself." He frowns, speaking before thinking. "I'll pay for it." You give him a playful roll of your eyes before you bend at the waist, bringing your face close to his.

"You're lucky you're so cute." The mere proximity was making Jungkook's brain get mushy and hazy with lust. He wanted you so badly, would do absolutely anything to have to, anything you said.

"Now, let me see those hands." You order and just like a dog to its owner, he follows instructions immediately, his hands out in front of you and you slowly walk around him, taking one hand then the other and handcuffing them behind his back.

He doesn't even remember seeing you walk in with handcuffs then again there was a lot about tonight that he didn't see coming. Like how smoothly you were able to straddle his lap and begin a slow, deep grind.

"So I really can't touch you at all?" Your heart skipped a beat at the way he was almost pouting when he said it. "You can try, but it's so much more fun this way. Watching you struggle to touch me." Your voice is as gentle as a whisper that should've been lost over the music but it was spoken right into his ear.

The feeling of your breath against the shell of his ear sends the hairs on the back of his hair to stand, and goosebumps to raise. He was rock solid in his jeans, although you already knew that. You could feel it. With every sensual roll of your hips, the man beneath you became a little more whiny.

"Do you think about me touching you?" Whipping your hair to the side as you leaned down intentionally close to his neck, making sure he felt your presence all over. His hips stutter under your set pace and it caused you to jolt slightly, "Fuck yes- Every day." He answers. Voice empty and high-pitched.

"Yeah?" You slowly slide off him, and let your knees hit the soft cushioned floor. You weren't doing anything, simply resting your arms on his knees and letting your head rest innocently on your hands.

How dare you look up at him like such an angel while you tempted him with a world of sin.

"Tell me, what do I do to you?" He sucks in a sharp breath as he feels your hand slowly glide up the inseam of his jeans. "You-" He gets distracted, losing his train of thought the moment your hand gently squeezes the thick muscle of his thigh, "Shit. You take my cock in your mouth and you suck me off until-" you squeeze his thigh once again, a little tighter this time.

"Hm? Until what? Until you cum in my mouth? Or on my chest?" Leaning back up, making an intimidating eye contact that Jungkook was unable to hold. "Look at me, Kookie." God. That nickname was so belittling, made him feel like he was being teased, but oh how he loved it.

"Until What? Say it." You grit, your hand holding his face, just firm enough for your middle finger and thumb to press into his cheeks. "Until I cum in your mouth and you swallow it." He looked so ashamed to say it, but it only caused you to grin bigger.

"Can I touch you, Kookie?"

He nods, nods and nods. "Please." His voice was a mere whisper, and at a certain pause during the music, you could hear him fighting against his restraints.

Back on your knees, your hands worked skillfully on getting him out of his pants and pulling how his briefs, just low enough for his throbbing dick to be released. Already budding with precum, some of it sticking to the base of his shirt as it rests against his abdomen.

"Nice cock." You almost wanted to laugh at the cliché, but it was true. Jungkook really had the prettiest dick you'd ever laid your eyes on, and he was big too.

He doesn't respond, eyes focused on your every move while his cheeks tinted red. He was anticipating for the contact between your hand and his length, but he still wasn't prepared.

Sucking in a sharp breath as he watched you spit on it and proceed to flash him the most charming smile he'd ever seen. You wanted to kill him, and Jungkook was afraid you'd succeed.

Your hand languidly rose from base to tip, working him up but he didn't need that, he wanted to last. His hips bucked up with every motion of your hands, "Relax," You coo, hand continuing its ministrations while Jungkook's head fell back. Hands still fighting against the cuffs desperately.

"a-ah." he moans so sweetly as your lips unexpectedly place a chaste kiss on his tip. Eyes shooting wide open, "Shit- 'm not gonna last." He warns but you continue anyway. Letting your tongue swirl around his tip like your favourite popsicle.

"Y/n-" His groans became more breathless and frequent, "Oh shit- Y/n-" Being ambitious you relaxed your throat and took deep breaths through your nose as you deepthroated his length. Fondling his balls in your left hand as you continued to work the base that you couldn't fit with your right.

That was it for him.

Jungkook's hot cum was filling your mouth with no further warning and the sound of the clashing metal rang in your ears, you grin. Looking up at the man who you've just ruined.

He blinks down at you with no thoughts behind his eyes, you maintain eye contact and swallow. He groans; and just to make sure you made his dreams come true, you stick out your tongue when you're done.

You stand, and the song changes once more, now playing sex with me.

How fitting, you think.

You uncuff Jungkook's wrists and with all the strength in his body, he tugs you back down to his lap. "Let me kiss you," A big strong man like him had just manhandled you to his will yet here he was still asking for your permission.

Good boys deserve treats.

You lean in, tilting your head to the side as your lips meet in a lustful exchange of saliva and desperation. This was all Jungkook needed. His hands unconsciously roamed down your backside until they found comfort on the soft flesh of your ass. Giving it a confident grip, you moaned into the kiss.

The two of you hardly pulled away, kissing like you wanted to become one. The way your body rolled against his and he pushed up into you.

"Can I fuck you?" He looked up to you with stars in his eyes and he was just the cutest thing, just as you wanted to answer, the lights strobe back to their default blue colour.

Slowly, you dismount him. Pretending that you weren't soaking through your costume. "Next time," You leaned down to drop a kiss on his cheek and begin to make your way out, "Happy Valentine's Day." You flash him one last wink and walk out of sight.

Happy Valentine's Day ♡

[inuyashaluver]

would you be able to write a cute leah x reader fic where reader gets ill and leah being the good girlfriend she is takes care of reader till readers better

i’ve got you - leah williamson

leah williamson x reader

description: in which you don’t listen to your girlfriend and now you have to deal with the consequences

warnings: mentions of sickness

a/n: we love a comfort sick fic!! thank you so much for the request, enjoyyyyyy ❤️❤️

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

you and your girlfriend, leah were soulmates and everyone knew it. it all started when you joined arsenal when you left australia to join the wsl.

leah was the first one to come up to you all those years ago, a friendly smile on her face with a gentle extension of her hand the moment you stepped foot inside the door.

“hey, I’m leah, we haven't met officially” she said almost sheepishly, her cheeks lightly dusting with pink as her eyes shone into yours. you smiled back with an equally bashful smile.

you've always admired leah from afar when you played against each other, though, you never went up to her out of your own nervousness.

“hi, I’m (y/n)” she smiled because she already knew your name, she’d kept it in the back of her mind ever since the first match you played against each other.

you were breathtakingly gorgeous, and also a player she found difficult to mark when you would approach from the midfield. you were in her mind rent-free, her admiration for you not subtle at all.

“if you ever wanted to..uh, be shown around the area, maybe we could get a coffee or something?” she clears her throat after the sentence left her lips, anticipating rejection from your blank stare, only you surprised her when you started to giggle slightly.

“i’d love to, how about tomorrow?” you suggest, your sweet smile melting her heart as you maintained eye contact with her, “tomorrow is great!” she grinned, wincing slightly at how quick and eager she had responded, but you made all those thoughts wash away.

“its a date” you winked, only leaving her when kim called you over for some introductions to your new teammates. leah’s heart was about to implode, she couldn't believe it. you and her were going on a date.

and fast forward 5 years, she still couldn't believe how far you both had gotten. now dating, moved in together and happier than you ever could be.

–

you and leah were polar opposites when it came to the mornings. your girlfriend loved a good sleep in, she loved it so much she would beg you for 5 minutes more without a fail.

you, however, have always been a morning person, preferring to wake up earlier to have more time to get ready and do odd tasks around the house.

leah admired this quality about you, she loved to watch you move around so effortlessly, looking extremely beautiful as you presented her a cup of tea as soon as she woke up, made perfectly just how she liked it.

though what confused her about this morning, is that you were still in bed when she woke up. leah being up before you was extremely rare and only really happened on her favourite days of the year: your birthday, your anniversary and christmas.

you were cuddled up by her side and she smiled instantly when she looked down at you beside her, though it fell into a frown when she noticed the slight increase in your body heat.

you were always the perfect amount of warm to her but today you were a little too warm and leah didn't feel right about it. she moved some stray hairs on your face, your eyebrows in a slight furrow showing your discomfort.

it was until she heard a little sniffle coming from you that her alarm bells began to ring, her girlfriend was sick. she gently peeled herself from you, moving into the bathroom to find a washcloth, wetting it with cool water, wringing it out and promptly making her way back to you.

she gently rolled you on your back and placed the cool cloth on your forehead, hoping it would bring down your body temperature. leah shook her head as she watched you sleeping, knowing this was because you refused to wear your jacket in training yesterday.

she chuckled remembering how insistent you were fine. she was excited to give you a look that just screamed ‘i told you so’. though, she put it aside for now. instead, she left the room quickly, calling staff members to let them know you both were not coming in today.

you slightly stirred when the bed dipped slightly, leah sitting beside you watching you sleep. you suddenly sat up right, frantically looking at the clock and realising you were both going to be late for training.

“babe, why didn't you wake me up?” you croak, attempting to get out of bed before leah stops you, “baby girl, you're not going anywhere” she said with a stern tone, her hands resting on your shoulders as she gently pushed your back to rest on the backboard of the bed.

“lee, we can't miss training, the game’s coming up” you rebuttal, sniffling as you looked at leah in an attempt to not look as ill as you could.

“we’re not going to training lovey, you're sick” she exhales through her nose, squeezing your cheek affectionately as you look at her with a dumbfounded expression.

“i'm not sick” you scoff, arms coming together and crossing over your chest. leah raises her eyebrows amusingly, her stubbornness was rubbing off on you and she wasn't sure whether to be proud or concerned.

“baby, you're sick, you have a fever and you've got the sniffles” she smiles, her hand moving to rest on your blanketed thigh, “i feel fine to go to training” you groan, avoiding eye contact because you knew she would catch on to your lie, your throat extremely scratchy as you tried to hold in a cough.

“really?” leah said cheekily, her finger hooking under your chin to make eye contact again, you pause for a moment. “yeah” you say simply, unable to stop yourself from sniffling,

“my girl, you are sick and we are staying home, end of discussion” she grins mischievously, standing up and moving towards the end of the bed.

she gives you a shit eating grin before grabbing both of your ankles, you yelp slightly when you feel her pull you down so you were laying down again, your head resting on the pillow.

“leah cathrine!” you laugh slightly, hearing your girlfriend giggle along with you, “that’s me, gorgeous” she grins up at you, moving around the bedroom to put on some sweats and a hoodie.

“i’m popping out for a second, lovey, i just need to get some bits for us” she kisses the crown of your head despite your refusal, “i'll be back, okay?” she affirms,

“i love you” you give her a weak smile, leah smiling back sweetly without missing a beat, “i love you too” she coos, almost sprinting out of the door to get to the shops.

–

she came back about 30 minutes later, struggling to open up the door with all the bags she had in her hands.

when you heard the keys clank on the ground and several curse words escaping your girlfriend’s mouth, you trudged out of bed to open the door for her.

she exhaled in relief when she made it to the kitchen, thanking you with a kiss to the forehead before giving you a lecture after realising you weren't where you were supposed to be.

the only words you really comprehended were: “you should be in bed”, “i can't leave you for two seconds without you doing something you're not supposed to be doing”.

you couldn’t help but laugh when leah dropped all the bags on your kitchen counter, stopping when she gave you a stern expression. "did you buy the whole shop?” you grinned, a little cough escaping your throat that leah winced at.

“no, missy” she tutted, “i got medicine that the pharmacist recommended, extra tissues, soup, other dry foods, tea and other little things” she shrugged after she verbalised her list to you.

your facial expression visibly softened when leah finished, something that your girlfriend noticed and her cheeks dusted with pink at how affectionately looking at her.

“thank you” you say softly in awe, leah smiles sweetly at you, gently moving around the island to grip your hand, walking you into the living room. the couch was already prepared for you with pillows and your favourite blanket.

“you rest here and i'll make you something to eat” you raise your eyebrow at her and she rolled her eyes, “shut up” she chuckles, turning on the tv for you and slowly bringing over medicine, tissues, cough drops, anything she could get to help you.

–

after you ate, leah made you move over so she could slot behind you, even though you begged her not to so she didn’t get sick but she refused.

she cuddled up to you, letting you rest on top of her while her hands rubbed up and down your waist gently.

“have you felt sick just today?” leah asked you softly, “i felt sick last night” you admit in a guilty voice, “baby, why didn't you tell me?” her voice laced with concern as you rested your chin on her chest to look up at her.

“I didn't want to bother you” you mumbled, her hand cupping your cheek gently, making you lean into her touch, “you're never a bother, my love, never” she says firmly, telling you she was serious.

you nod, moving your head slightly to kiss her palm. she gives you an affectionate smile, her hand moving to the back of your head to pull it down to rest on her chest again.

“let's have a nap, baby” she whispers, “i've got you” her free hand rubbing comforting circles on your back, sending you to sleep in no time.

she smiles when she feels your deep breaths brush against her collarbone, the way your body perfectly fits against her own as your body rises and falls.

she loved you so much she couldn't believe it. and she knew you felt the same because she felt it everyday. as she watched you sleep, she knew she would do anything you needed from her, and that was a promise she intended to keep.

–

about a week later, you and leah returned to training again, many of your teammates excited to see that you'd finally recovered. and leah was happy to see your cheeky self was back to normal when people asked how you were.

you lovingly stating that ‘leah had cured you’. she’d roll her eyes every time you said it but you both knew she loved it. her pink cheeks never gave her that animosity she wanted.

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

you know the drill - pretend it’s you!! ily lessi baby

liked by alessia and 44,232 others

leahwilliamsonn: comes back after a week of being sick and gets herself two goals - she drives me insane

view all comments

yourname: maybe it’s my secret to success??

↳ leahwilliamsonn: don’t go around trying to get sick again, missy

↳ yourname: no promises

↳ leahwilliamsonn: such a little shit

↳ yourname: you love it

↳ leahwilliamsonn: sure

[deramin2]

A Quick Guide To Getting Caught Up On Critical Role Fast

This guide is for people who want the fastest way official to get caught up on all 3 Critical Role campaigns without seeing the full actual play episodes. They're all made so that the AP will still be enjoyable later even if you know what happens. There's no "right" way to get into the series, and already having an idea of what happens can even help make the APs more enjoyable and easier to understand.

Summary:

The Legend of Vox Machina

Crit Recap Animated

Exandria: An Intimate History

Critical Role Abridged

Guide:

Campaign 1:

The Legend of Vox Machina on Amazon Prime is the animated adaptation of C1 by the same creators. Sam Riegel said the creative approach is this was the version in av later play. All the important bits are there, but they get to those moments differently.

The Legend of Vox Machina has 3 seasons out now that cover events up through at least episode 85. A 4th season is in the works and will probably cover the final arc.

Campaign 2:

An animated adaptation for Amazon Prime called "Mighty Nein" is in the works, but not out yet.

Crit Role Animated is an older comedic summary series presented by their Lore Keeper that covers the whole campaign in 10 videos. Great if you want the gist.

It's like a history crash course history video meant to get you curious to learn the full story later. Great way to get a sense of who people are and what they've done. Available on YouTube and their streaming platform Beacon.

Exandrian History Review:

Exandria: An Intimate History is a timeline review of key events in world history, starting from the creation.

It was released before Campaign 3 as bonus content. It represents what the average person in Exandria knows about world history up to that point.

Campaign 3:

Critical Role Abridged is the Campaign 3 AP condensed down into 1 to 1.5 hours. It mostly cuts down combat to the narrated results and reduces table chatter and indecisiveness. It's a great way to experience the full campaign.

Critical Role Abridged is coming out 1 a week at a time on YouTube and 2 a week on Beacon. YouTube is currently up to episode 25. Beacon is up to episode 47. The AP is at episode 109. At some point you'll have to switch to full episodes to catch up.

Wiki:

There's also 2 world-class wikis where's you can look up extensive and meticulously cited information about anything you need. I prefer The Encyclopedia Exandria.

Viewing Notes:

An important thing to know about "continuity" in Critical Role is that it takes a more realistic view of how history is passed down through the ages and even dedicated academics will never know the full story or be fully correct. They know versions colored by in-world biases and lost knowledge.

Which is great for you the viewer because any campaign you comes into, the characters don't know most of what happened in past games. What they actually know will come up in game. The players have above table reactions and some subtle in jokes, but try not to act on meta knowledge.

It's structured a lot like reading one history book and then wanting to go back and read more about past events that set the stage for all those things to happen. They've tried to make it easier to come into the story happening now.

I certainly enjoyed watching the full APs from the beginning, and I think you can get a deeper understanding of the story from them, but it takes thousands of hours to catch up on the story that way and it isn't realistic for everyone. Each series builds on the consequences of past events more than they rely on unexpected twists, so already knowing what happens just helps you notice all the little things that led to them. Similar to how Shakespeare's plays are often more enjoyable to watch unfold if you already know the basic plot points going into them.

Happy viewing, and I hope this helps you or someone you know get into this very rich and interesting story!

[loveinhawkins]

The Championship Game of 1985 is only a quarter of the way done, and Eddie is already certain that it’s not going to be a Hawkins victory.

It kinda blows, honestly. It’s boring, like correctly guessing the ending of a movie five minutes in.

And yeah, sue him, maybe high school basketball is a legitimate source of entertainment—he can admit that in the safety of his own head, at least.

Take, for example, the first game of the ‘83 tournament, when a timeout was called with only seconds remaining: the Tigers’ last hope of winning was to miraculously sink a shot with the fraction of time they had left. The tension in the air was palpable as the team formed a huddle—Eddie couldn’t hear anything apart from students chanting, but he stood on his tiptoes and found a gap in the crowd, just in time to read Steve Harrington’s lips: “I’ll make it.”

And he had—with a goddamn stunning full-court jump shot, too, the ball falling through the net just before the buzzer sounded.

Like, come on. Eddie would only admit it under pain of death, but that definitely rivals the intensity of any worthy campaign.

But he can see none of that excitement now. The Tigers have had few opportunities to even get the ball, and whenever they do, Billy Hargrove seems to have taken it upon himself to hog the damn thing, like it’s a symbol of his masculinity.

Of course, he loses the ball—again—and his nostrils flare with anger.

Maybe that’s why Eddie notices it. He’s checked out of paying attention to the game itself, instead focusing on the jaded expressions of Hargrove’s teammates.

As the ball makes its way down center court, Eddie’s eyes are instead drawn to Steve Harrington. He looks pissed, wiping sweat off his forehead and shouting what looks like some pretty choice words at Hargrove’s back.

Hargrove doesn’t seem to acknowledge it, but for just a moment he goes completely still, and all Eddie can think is danger.

It’s covert, the way it’s all done. Hargrove’s move is quick and calculated; he steps far enough away afterwards that it looks like the whole thing is the fault of a rival player.

But Eddie sees the subtle shove. Sees Steve lose his footing.

He goes down hard.

Winces ripple through the audience. Eddie hears Robin Buckley from band suck air through her teeth, then ramble, “Shit, do you think it’s really bad? Beth Wildfire, on my soccer team, her bone, like, came out of her whole knee, you could see it, must’ve been six inches—”

It doesn’t look like anything as gory as that has happened; Steve is already up, and from the redness of his face, it initially seems as if the only thing that’s been hurt is his pride.

But as Eddie sidles to the end of the front row, within earshot of the bench, he sees that Steve can’t put his weight on one ankle, sees the telling way he grits his teeth while speaking.

“I can keep going,” he says, even as Jason Carver’s getting pulled up to replace him.

The coach barely spares Steve a glance, clapping Carver on the shoulder as he jogs onto the court.

“Get someone to take you over to the nurse.”

Steve’s spine goes rigid. “But I can—”

“Look, I don’t have time for this.” The coach finally looks at Steve directly, pointing a stern finger at his chest. “You’re benched, Harrington.”

Steve visibly deflates. He opens his mouth, but no words come out, and then he glances to the side, as if suddenly aware that he’s drawing attention to himself.

This time, when his teeth clench, Eddie thinks that it’s more from embarrassment than pain.

“Whatever,” Steve mutters, and he limps out of the hall—close enough that he clips Eddie by the shoulder as he goes.

Eddie doesn’t know that he’s made a decision until he’s already moving, stepping to the side.

He turns and heads for the exit.

There’s a jeering call from the bench: Mark Lewinsky.

“Aw, what are you gonna do, Munson? Nurse him back to health?”

Obscene moaning noises, punctuated with laughter.

Eddie rolls his eyes.

He finds Steve in the corridor, bracing himself with a hand against the wall. There’s a couple of pictures on the floor, class photos taken for the yearbook that had been pinned up; Steve must have inadvertently torn them down as he grappled for balance.

“Go away, Munson,” he says without looking. “Go back to the game.”

“I’ve kinda lost interest,” Eddie says lightly. He manages to watch Steve take one painful step before he simply can’t do it anymore—stepping forward, he says, “Christ, Harrington, here.”

Steve jolts away from his hand. “Fuck off, I don’t need—”

“Well, fuck you too, then,” Eddie snaps. Something’s burning in his chest, a sudden and fierce hurt. “Jesus Christ. You know what I am isn’t fucking catching, right?”

He shocks himself by saying it.

In the silence that follows all he can think is that, for once, his dad was right: he never did learn how to shut his damn mouth.

Steve’s staring at him, pressing his back against the wall like it’s the one thing keeping him upright.

“That’s—that’s not why—” He breaks off, looks completely lost.

Somewhere within Eddie’s own mortification, he takes pity on him.

He sniffs, tries to act nonchalant. “Don’t hurt yourself, man.”

“No, I—I didn’t mean…” Steve sighs. “I’m sorry. That’s not—I just meant—” He pushes off from the wall again, wobbles until his hand finds purchase. “Just meant I can do it myself.”

Eddie feels his heart rate slow. He tilts his head. Re-examines Steve’s posture: the set to his jaw, the pained determination.

Years ago, Eddie broke his wrist at the fair, thanks to an awkward crash while on the bumper cars. It was the first summer that staying at Wayne’s had become a permanent thing, and Eddie had hidden his wrist beneath the folds of his too-large leather jacket, but Wayne met him off the ride and immediately noticed (“Chrissake, Ed. I’m not mad, kid. Just… lemme help you?”).

Eddie tried to stay silent as he got wrapped into a splint, because anything else felt like admitting to something.

Felt shameful.

“Yeah, you can,” Eddie says, shrugging. He pauses. Takes a chance. “Doesn’t mean you have to, though.”

He moves forward again—slower this time. Offers his hand.

Steve takes it.

“For the record,” he says, grunting as he shifts his weight, “I could’ve kept playing. Like, I’ve had worse.”

Yeah, Eddie thinks, you sure have.

Steve clearly hasn’t sensed that Eddie’s thoughts have gone to how messed up his face was last winter, because he keeps talking.

“Anyway. My own damn fault.” A rueful grin. “Didn’t plant my feet.”

“Don’t,” Eddie says. “You don’t have to… I saw. I saw Hargrove, man.”

Steve scoffs quietly. “Yeah, of course you did.”

“Shit, Harrington, way to make me sound like a stalker.”

“No, it’s just—” Steve shakes his head. “Just typical, that’s all. Remember when the fire alarm went off, last spring? You were the only one who noticed Debbie Lyons was missing.”

“Uh, so?”

Steve smiles. “So… you notice things.”

Eddie doesn’t know what to say.

But he gives it a try as they round another corner.

“What the fuck is Hargrove’s problem with you, dude?”

Steve chuckles wryly. “I’m really annoying.”

“Yeah, fair enough,” Eddie says, grinning when Steve manages to elbow him in the ribs. “But not, like, ‘intentionally injure’ levels of annoying. He threw the game, too.”

“Huh?”

Eddie fixes Steve with a pointed look. “Took out one of our best players.”

Steve rolls his eyes, but still looks undeniably pleased. “Shuddup.” He sobers in the space of taking another step and says, “With Hargrove, it’s… there’s bigger things than basketball, y’know?”

Eddie hears the just drop it underneath what’s spoken. He nods.

They’re almost at the nurse’s office when Steve sighs. “S’not exactly how I pictured it.”

“Hmm?”

“My last game.” Steve winces slightly as they inch closer to the door; Eddie tries to take more of his weight. “Had it in my head that I’d win, go out on a high.”

Eddie’s staring down the prospect of repeating senior year again—he knows all about having ideas in your head that don’t quite pan out.

“Life isn’t like a movie, Harrington,” he says.

It comes out perhaps more fond than he intended.

For some reason, Steve starts laughing like he’s heard something downright hilarious. “Yeah, gonna have to agree to disagree on that one, Munson.”

In the nurse’s office, they find out Steve’s probably got a bad sprain rather than a fracture (“See? I totally could’ve kept playing,” Steve insists), but that he should get it checked out at the hospital, just in case.

Ice pack in one hand, Steve makes a call on the office phone, with what sounds like a morbidly curious teen on the other end: “No, dude, there’s no blood—can you be normal for, like, two seconds and put your mom on? Thank you.”

As Steve hangs up, Eddie is very aware that the right time to leave was probably five minutes ago.

He stays put.

“This was supposed to be my last game, too,” he says.

“Was?”

Eddie clicks his tongue. “Well. S’not confirmed yet, haven’t had my last test results back. But uh, it’s kinda like the game.” He nods in the direction that they came, towards the basketball court. “I already know which way it’s gonna go.”

There’s no judgement in Steve’s eyes. “Sorry. Must’ve been boring to watch.”

Eddie smiles. “Nah, you’re good.”

He doesn’t say that, in his eyes, Steve’s single-handedly given the school almost all of its memorable basketball moments. That his secret favourite one isn’t even a Tigers victory: there was a game when Steve was poised to take the winning shot, and a kid from Connersville fainted.

In the few seconds of confusion, Steve could’ve still taken the shot. He could’ve won.

But as soon as he realised what was going on, he refused to.

To Eddie, that says more about him than any triumph ever could.

The phone rings again; the nurse is letting a Mrs Henderson in at the front of the school to pick up Steve.

“Guess that’s my cue,” Eddie says, because there’s only so many people allowed in the office at one time.

“See you, Munson. Um, thanks, by the way. Hope next year’s championship is, uh, better.”

There’s something in the way he says it, like even while still in the building, he’s drifting away, high school in his rear view mirror.

Oh, Eddie thinks wistfully, you’re already halfway outta here, aren’t you?

Goddamnit. I might actually miss you, Steve Harrington. You and your stupid hair.

“Hmm, can’t see myself going to watch next year.”

“Oh, yeah? How come?”

Eddie lingers in the doorway. Maybe it’s the fact that in a few weeks they’re never gonna see each other again. Maybe that helps him say it. Makes him a little braver.

He’s never learned to shut his damn mouth.

“My favourite player’s leaving,” he says.

And sure, he leaves barely a second later; he’s not that brave.

But he stays just long enough to catch Steve’s smile: startled, pleased, and perhaps just a little shy—like he’s made the winning shot after all.

[lovecla]

© property of lovecla, nhl masterlist, nico hischier x you:

FAKE IT ‘TILL YOU MAKE IT, game plan:

➴ chapter warnings: none <3

➴ word count: 1.5k

💌 from me to you: and here’s the first chapter of fake it ‘till you make it! posting this sooner than expected in honor of last night’s game. can you guys believe we have nico hischier as our captain? how lucky are we? anyways! i hope you all like this! (the posting schedule will be just like TYPA, every other day!) ♡

𖧷

WHEN YOU tell people that being friends with a hot, young NHL player isn’t at all that great, all they do is look at you like you’re batshit crazy, and give you one hundred and fifty four arguments trying to make you, someone who’s been friends with a guy who’s been a NHL star player for the past few years, see how wrong you are.

You love Nico Hischier. You really do. You met him when you were just eighteen, being friends with his sister, Nina, and immediately locking in with Nico. He’s the sweetest, kindest and most loving man you have ever met in your life, and now that you’re twenty-three, almost twenty-four, you can see how rare men like Nico are.

But now that he’s a famous player, captain of an entire team and known for being one of the hottest men in the NHL, you sure feel like you’re paying a high price for being in his life.

Not in a bad way, though. It just sucks to see the amount of women throwing themselves at his feet, and what sucks even more, is knowing that he won’t even blink an eye at them because he’s head over heels for Nora Ellis, a crazy girl he met two years ago at a party.

Nora is beautiful, you’ll give him that. And usually, you wouldn’t be upset with him having a crush. In fact, you and Nina are always encouraging him to engage in new relationships and meet new people, so that he isn’t only worried about his job.

Nora. She’s the most beautiful black woman you have ever seen. She’s intelligent, she’s funny and she knows things about Hockey like no one else— being the daughter of one of the most talented coaches in the NHL does that to you, you guess.

The only problem with Nora Ellis is the fact that she only cares for men who are in a relationship.

Married or dating, she doesn’t care. Her only goal is to make them give up on their partner to be with her, and once she gets tired of them, she finds another mission to busy herself with.

Nico doesn’t seem to notice that. To be fair, no one really does. She can be very subtle and discreet, and the only reason why you caught up on that in the first place is because every party you go to, you try to blend yourself with the walls, so you don’t get too much attention on yourself.

Nico always tells you to stay by his side and mingle with his friends, but by the end of the night, you’re always sitting near the bathroom door, with a drink in your hands, watching the party unfold with attentive eyes.

And turns out that a lot can happen in the bathroom of a party full of NHL players and Nora Ellis.

So you know she’s not good for him. You’ve tried to talk him out of it more times than you can actually recall, but it’s a dead end. Nico’s in love with her, and has been for two years now. He won’t give up on her unless something really drastic happens, but since Nora is really good at what she does— destroying relationships for fun—, nothing will ever rise to the surface.

“She’s so… pretty,” Nico sighs, sitting on the couch beside you, making you sigh and put your book down, not forgetting to mark the page you were in. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to bother you.”

You smile, touching his cheek, watching with awe as his dimples appear. “It’s fine, Dimples.”

He rolls his eyes as he always does when you call him that, and continues.

“You’re the only one who still listens to me ramble about Nora,” he pouts. “Nina said that if I talk about her one more time, she’ll fly to Newark and personally destroy my phone so I can’t call her anymore.”

You laugh loudly, perfectly picturing Nina saying that.

“And Luca?” you ask, raising your eyebrow.

“Luca just says I need to move on.”

“Well, he’s always been more patient than Nina, that’s for sure,” you nod, placing your book on Nico’s coffee table and bringing your knees close to your chest, resting your head on them. “But… he’s not wrong, y’know?”

Nico gives you the puppy eyes, as he always does whenever someone mentions that he should get over Nora, and you sigh again.

Seeing him like this sucked in every way. And you’ve tried everything— get him on dating apps, blind dates, normal dates, pointing at a pretty girl at a party, literally everything.

And still, he’s not budging.

“I wish she would just look at me. I’m handsome, right?” He looks at you, brown eyes filled with despair.

You spend some seconds analyzing him, as you often liked to do. His brown, hazelnut eyes that shined bright everyday, his hair that’s now a little bit longer than usual, his legs and arms which are absolutely huge— when did he get that big anyway?— and his perfect, charming smile and dimples.

“Emma?”

“O-oh, yeah, you’re… fine, I guess,” you shrug, trying to hide the fact that you were checking him out. Weird. “It’s not about you, Nico, I’ve said that before.”

“Okay, but why won’t she pay attention to me, then?”

Because you don’t have a girlfriend, is what you want to say.

Wait.

“Oh my God!” you jump in your seat, scaring Nico who lets out a loud scream and jumps out of the couch with you.

“What the— Emma.” He puts his hands on his hips, trying to look scary, but you brush him off.

“I know how to make her fall in love with you,” you smile, walking around in circles, trying to organize your thoughts inside your head. Nico. Nora. She thinks she’s in love. Nico’s happy. They get together. She’ll leave him after three months or so. Nico’s sad. But! Nico’s moved on. “God, how did I not think of that before?”

“What are you talking about—”

“We have to date.”

Nico stares at you like you’re crazy, his eyes big and confused. He opens his mouth a few times, probably trying to think of something to say, before closing it and inhaling the air.

You wait for him to say something, but when it’s obvious that he won’t, you continue:

“I know it sounds crazy, and I know what you must be thinking, but hear me out,” you step closer, looking up at him. “Girls sometimes don’t pay attention to guys because… well, because they can’t really see them. Like, for example: there’s this one guy in my office which I don’t care about, he’s just my coworker and nothing else.”

“What does this have to do with—” you put your index finger over his lips, shushing him.

“Wait,” you say. “So, he’s there and he isn’t anything. Until, one night, I had a dream that he’s dating me. And suddenly, I wake up and go to work, and I can’t see him the same way I did before. I start noticing how nice his hair is or how tall he is. Do you understand it now?”

Nico smiles, scratching his forehead with his finger.

“No, Emma. That doesn’t even make sense.”

You snort. “Because you’re a man. But trust me on this one, Nico. The second Nora sees you with someone else, she will notice you.”

Mostly because she’s a whore, but we’ll keep that to ourselves for a while.

“Do you have… like… a crush on me or something?” His face is now red and he gets closer to you, placing his hand on your shoulder while he looks like he’s trying to comfort you. “Is that why you want to do this?”

“What— No, what the hell!” you can feel your face getting warm and you step away from him. “No, I don’t have a c-crush on you. I just can’t stand you talking about her anymore. I’m your friend, so I will help you.”

Nico sighs, relieved it seems, still looking unsure.

“You don’t have to do it, if you don’t want to,” you say, closing your eyes for a few seconds. “I know it sounds crazy and I know you probably think I’m trying to get something here but in reality—”

“I’ll do it.”

“What?!” you can’t hide your surprise, almost shouting with how loud you spoke.

He smiles, sitting back on the couch, spreading his thighs and stretching his arms. “I mean, you’re never wrong about these love related things. You did get my sister an amazing boyfriend and you did manage to convince my brother to ask that girl out, and now they’re married. So it’s probably my turn to accept your love advice and shit, right?”

You’re starting to feel bad about this whole thing, because you know Nora will probably break his heart in thousands of little pieces, but what else can you do?

It’s the perfect plan, you think to yourself. It’s flawless, and it will work.

“I try my best,” you give him a half-smile, crossing your arms in front of your chest. “But you have to promise me something.”

Nico nods. “Anything.”

“If this doesn’t work out, then you'll move on.”

“Emma—”

“It’s not healthy for you to be thristing over someone for this much time,” you sit on the couch next to him and place your hand on his shoulder, giving it a little squeeze. “We will fight, and we will fight hard, but if there’s no results in three months, and I’m being generous, we’ll move on. Okay?”

Nico stared at his hands, biting his lips before looking at you again.

“Okay.”

𖧷

<next chapter>

[amusingmusie]

Hi, I really hope you're faring well. Just wanted to say that I love your writing and yours truly, and I thought about something.

In hell, Alastor is a lot more durable and unkillable, so I imagine that's a lot more of a headache for Nel. She's walking behind him, ready to bash his skull and all of a sudden his head does a 180 and she's like >:0.

Also demon Al's hygiene must be HORRIBLE. So she's probably going to have to chase him around the hotel with a toothbrush and soap to no evail because he's a slippery motherfucker now that he's a demon.

Thank you so much for writing this masterpiece, and have a wonderful day <3

Fresh As Hell

Content warning for the Hazbin cast being themselves.

You're running out of ideas.

This has gone on far too long. The smell of an old shoe here, a hint of halitosis there, even a whiff of swamp water wafting your way if you get too close: it's all evidence that you can't ignore any longer.

Alastor kind of fucking stinks.

Sure, you've told him since your human days that his swampass stench is overwhelming, but that was a dig to piss him off, not the actual truth (usually, as long as his mother pressured him to scrub his tail). Nowadays? Well, if the demonic stop sign admitted that he bathes in his bedroom's wetlands, you'd be less than shocked. Shit, you'd actually be relieved if that were the case, because then you could fill the bog with soap and perfume to mask whatever funk perpetually lives on Alastor's grey skin. It's never overwhelming enough to knock you out; it's maddening subtle, the musk of his hair and the bite to his breath.

Maybe you could survive the Great Stink of '24 if he didn't insist on being on top of you at all times. Every time you turn around, you're assaulted by crimson, static, and Alastor's personal brand of miasma that wafts off of him since he insists on being no less than three atoms away from you.

Sure, it's possible you've got beef with his aroma since back in the day, the shitter smelled like freshly cut wood with notes of amber and his teeth sparkled like diamonds. You've seen his hygiene at its peak, which is why you cannot cosign this rank tomfoolery. Unfortunately, all of your attempts to rally the idiots at this hotel to agree with you that this is an issue have ended in disaster, leaving you without any allies in this fight.

"I haven't really noticed much, and hey, here at the Happy Hotel, we're receptive to more, um, eccentric lifestyles! As long as Alastor is being a team player and helping out with our mission, there's no reason to make him uncomfortable by bringing up his personal choices!"

"I don't get close enough to that pendejo to catch a whiff of whatever you're talking about."

"I dunno, tootz, I like a man with a little musk to 'em."

"Fuck off and fuck you."

"I like man stink~"

You're very much on your own here. The war on Alastor's subpar hygiene will be fought by you and you alone, and you won't be deterred- you've had worse battles before.

When you're once again yanked into Alastor's side and exposed to a faceful of his armpit in the lobby for the upteenth time, you vow to take action against him, more for your sake than his.

Game on.

---

Your strategy calls for small, stealthy actions in the beginning.

Positioning yourself in plain sight at the hotel bar with two cups of coffee, you wait for your target to appear. It's the perfect scene: you, alone (save for the bar cat, but he's passed out with his head down on the counter), with coffee. Alastor can't resist this. Hardly more than three seconds pass before a rush of static and a chill wash over you. A gentle pop sounds off to your left, and then you're greeted by your least favorite radio host smelling stale as ever.

"Good morning, sweetheart!" he cries, purposely shouting too loudly into your ear. "You're looking especially horrid this morning. Did you happen to catch a glance of your reflection in the mirror before it cracked?"

"No, I was too busy imagining all the ways I could skin you alive before eleven."

"Well, it is eight already, so hop to it, you need all the time that you can get to brainstorm!"

As his invisible audience laughs alongside him, you flick a handful of mints into his unguarded coffee cup. The jackass is too busy chortling at his tired jokes to realize that you've done anything at all. Perfect. Holding back your smirk is a damn hard move when Alastor finally lifts his red mug to his full lips and swallows down a mouthful of minty coffee.

Success.

Until-

"Hm..." Alastor hums, blinking his red eyes plainly. Then he promptly turns, spits out a stream of dark liquid onto Husk's bowed head, and snatches up your cup of coffee. After sipping down your drink, he sighs contently. "There, much better! Ah, that was a juvenile play, dear. You're losing your touch."

The deer motherfucker teleports away while you're left with a pissed off cat and determination to win this war.

---

Next comes the idea to douse Alastor in whatever perfume oils you can find as a direct plan of attack. Instead of using your precious concoction that you paid out the ass for from Rosie's Emporium, you decide that these other assholes living around here could stand to help out for five seconds. You're not asking for their support- just their cologne.

Angel is the unlucky winner that you approach since whatever he wears is pungent enough that it has your eyes watering on a good day. The spider leans up against his doorway, legs in your face and fluff looming above your head as you make your case.

"Listen." You crane your head back and fix him with what you hope is an amicable stare. "I'll shoot straight with you. I need a favor."

"Oh?" he asks, raising a perfect brow and examining his gloved fingers. "I don't do girls, sorry not sorry."

"No," you grumble at him. "Not that kind of favor. I need to borrow your perfume- whatever shit you wear is strong enough to be smelled across the Pentagram. All I need is to borrow the bottle for five minutes and I'll have it back to you good as new."

"HA! You think I'm letting you make off with my smell-good for free? No no no, nobody gets to borrow what I wear, not even Cherri. It's custom! You're out of luck."

"You're here at the hotel to redeem yourself- part of redemption is being selfless."

"Actually, I'm at this shitshack so I don't have to pay rent, and redemption don't mean you get a spritz of my good shit. Go ask some other shmuck." Angel laughs in your face one final time, then spins around to shut his door.

"I'll owe you," you spit out. That has the fluffy demon pausing and you fear that you've either royally fucked up or royally succeeded.

"...Owe me what?"

"One favor equal to borrowing your perfume that doesn't involve me getting my ass kicked or double dead."

Angel grins delightedly, retreats into his den, then sticks one spindly arm out with his perfume sitting pretty in his palm.

"Have at it!"

And you do, with fear of Hell's #1 pornstar in your heart.

Alastor comes in to kick your legs under the table during dinner and you immediately whip out Angel's perfume to soak the son of a bastard down. There's an ear-ringing screech before Alastor pops away, leaving you with a table full of coughing, gassed-out hotel inhabitants that are very, very pissed off.

Once Vaggie is done chewing you out, Angel Dust leans over and whispers, "You still owe me for my draining my fucking reserves, dollface."

Fuck.

---

After weeks of attempted baths, desperate tooth-brushing sessions, dirty bribery, and numerous double-death threats, you've decided that you have no choice but to go completely nuclear. Clearly, your rotten plague of a deer demon is determined to resist all attempts to freshen him the fuck up, so you are prepared to pull the dirtiest trick in your book. Forget screaming or cussing; you'll have his ass eating out of the palm of your hand in no time with this.

"Hello, my rotten peach!"

Ahah, it's time- you're about to win this little game no problem. You take one look at Alastor in all his awful glory here in the parlor, steady your face into an uninterested expression, and then you. look. away.

Alastor stares.

"I said, hello, my rotten peach! My fetid fruit! My most crusty crop!" he announces slightly louder as if you didn't hear him.

Nothing. No reaction. You refuse to engage with someone that smells of fragrant toes and has gums darker than his coffee; you'll have him suffering from your silence if those are the dumbass choices he'd like to make.

Just barely concealing his panic at the sudden lack of your attention, Alastor clomps closer, then pokes at your side with his staff. The thing winces from the contact. You, on the other hand, are not weak and will not relent, so you continue to watch the parlor wall with great interest.

All according to plan.

Charlie passes by, humming a happy tune. When she spots you lounging on the couch with Alastor hovering over you, she smiles at the familiar sight, and offers a happy, "Good morning!"

"Morning, Princess," you greet her. Then you return to wall watching.

Alastor wilts.

You smile.

And you play the winning game.

For days, you refuse to acknowledge anything having to do with your favorite least favorite parasite. If he materializes in front of you when you're reading a novel? You don't even flinch. If you awake to him standing over your bed and staring with glowing eyes? Well, there's no need to do anything but roll over, that's just Tuesday. You hardly bat an eye when a black shadow warbles over your shoulder as you brush your teeth; no, you simply show it the brush and toothpaste for a proper tutorial on how to avoid ripe ass breath. You're enjoying the power you hold over Alastor, and you especially enjoy the way his stupid tufts flatten against his head when you deny him any attention for a whole week.

You believe that victory is yours.

---

As you trudge downstairs for another miserable day at the Asscrack Motel or whatever they're calling this place nowadays, you're overwhelmed by a new scent permeating throughout the lobby- freshly cut cedar, something slightly floral and musky, hints of amber, and immaculately washed manass.

Shit.

You know that smell. You know that smell very well. It can only mean one thing.

Then you spot him in all of his glory; Alastor is leaning his spindly body against the hotel bar with a freshly patched suit, styled hair slicked back across his head, and shining teeth. Oh God, he smells and looks like Heaven, and suddenly you decide that maybe you don't give two shits about that white speck in the sky when you've got this presented to you on a metaphorical platter.

With a little grunt, you move closer, appraising Alastor with an indifferent expression. His static is whirring sweetly in the background while he simpers down at you- yeah, he's proud and peacocking a bit, you can tell from the manner in which his lips curl and the way his chest puffs out. Goddammit...he knows that he's got you hooked like a fucking sucker.

"Yeeeeees?" he sings when you stare for a second too long. "Something on your dreadfully empty mind?"

"..." Hm. You could shoot him for being annoying, but he did do all of this dolling up for you.

Ugh. You hate him so much.

So you yank him down by his lapel so you can kiss him square on the mouth. For the first time in a long time, he tastes of mint and sunshine instead of rot and coffee, utterly intoxicating you in the worst of ways. You drag your lips against his and feel that they've been moisturized, and when he bites down on your tongue, there's no slippery plaque to offend your senses.

All of this effort just to get you to look his way.

Good.

Then you release him with a pop, flip him the bird, and walk off with your head held high.

Alastor just hums in satisfaction from his place at the bar, idly commenting, "I've still got it," to a very disgusted Husk and Vaggie who are doing their damndest to ignore the scene.

You'll call this one even.

(Loosely based on a very old conversation with @gemrocknerd).

[coqhee]

TEASER: BRIDGE TO YOUR HEART 𓂃 박종성

✷ your love life was never something of concern, at least for you. so what happens when you catch the eye of the star baseball player for your university, make you a deal to fake date to keep both your families at bay, but what if pretending starts to feel a little too real?

baseball player jay︲fem reader ︲fluff, romance, angst, he fell first, she fell harder, college au, fake dating au︲pet names, grammar errors, cursing, kissing, skinship, miscommunication / more

RELEASE DATE: TBD

COLLECTION MASTERLIST HERE

taglist is OPEN send an ask or reply to this post to be added

─── ♡

jay was a fool.

anyone in his friend group could tell how smitten he was when he first saw you on campus.

from the way he always stopped in his tracks just for his eyes to follow you all around, to the way he changed the path he took to his classes just so he could admire you for a second longer. it was “shorter”, because that’s the excuse anyone who wants just moments longer to stare at their crush says.

some would say he had a cute crush on a girl, others would say he had a mind boggling horrendous fat crush on you.

regardless of whichever would be true (leaning towards the second option), he had a crush. “embarrassingly pathetic” is how his friend’s would put it.

it was the way you didn’t even notice him, the star pitcher everyone couldn’t stop talking about. jay wasn’t used to being invisible, however, to you, he might as well not have been going to the same college to start.

he could’ve been demotivated, but when jay had his mind set on love, he was tunnel visioned in on it.

you however, couldn’t care less…at least that’s what you said before. you knew about his tragic and undying crush, but you had a mission; academics first.

but when your parents start pestering you about settling down after you finish your senior year in college all of a sudden, he’s no longer just a background character in your go-getter of a life.

suddenly he’s become a main character…to fool your parents.

“fake date me, it works for me and you,” he says and all of a sudden, that’s become your reality.

the subtle hint in his tone to what the months ahead may allude to raise some suspicion, but hey at least your parents won’t be on your back anymore.

─── ♡

a/n: 3rd installment of to:your heart is on the way!! 1-3 weeks out per usual :) make sure to join the taglist!!

@ coqhee 2024. all rights reserved.

[teddypickerry]

Patching jess Mariano up after a fight and trying to get him to tell you what happened but he’s too busy flirting and being evasive so he doesn’t tell you what happened (some guy was talking bad about you) 🤭

𝐀 𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄.

pairings — jess mariano x fem! gilmore reader

word count — 2.0k

warnings — none fluffy friends with a crush on eachother <3

a/n — the boys… troy… TROY IS BACK IN TOWN!!!! I THINK I’M OUT, BUT YOU PULL ME BACK IN. YOU GUYS KEEP PULLING ME BACK IN. after almost a year (maybe over, i failed the time management thing) I’M BACK TO TUMBLR FICS!!!! although i did make y/n have a name cause i cannot read or write y/n anymore… is that maturity 😏? anyways. i’m really not a fan of this… like, at all. but i wanted to feed you bitches after starving you for so long. and the jess fics on here? are… well…

THE UPSTAIRS BATHROOM in the Gilmore household wasn't particularly small. But with how close the two somewhat friends were sitting, it seemed miniscule. The CD player hummed a Def Leppard album from Alexa's bedroom. Her free hand cupped Jess's jaw. He was dripping blood into the sink, hunching over the counter like he was in his first trimester. The moment he glanced up in the mirror, he was met with a sight worse than Terrifier. 

Alexa entered the bathroom once more, a warm washcloth in her hand as she stopped at the doorway. The teenage boy turned her way with a not-so-subtle speed. The two hardly shared a word since they arrived at her house a brief few minutes ago. The fight came out of nowhere and she couldn't understand why he'd done it. Noel was a boy they'd gone to school with for a while, a boy who hadn't given Alexa the best time since her arrival. One of the few things she'd learned of the football player was that he was a good fighter - established in Jess's bruises. "Turn, please." The girl mumbled until he obliged. His back pressed against the counter with his arms crossing. He looked down at the brunette who had a softened look on her face while examining him. 

The warm washcloth pressed against the cut crossing his cheek. Jess nearly wincing at the feeling, deciding he'd rather suck it up than seem pathetic to her. Alexa noticed his act immediately and shook her head. There was an elephant in the room... on the towel Lorelai found at Goodwill. She laughed for five minutes when she found it. But there was another elephant in the room, and it wasn't literal.

The teenager worked with the hum of Def Leppard in the background. Jess didn't dare speak a word as the girl pressed her hand to his injured skin. It was almost like it was all worth it just to be tended to by her tender hands. Which simply embarrassed him.

A bandaid covered the final now clean cut. That was as much as Alexa could do with her lack of doctoring abilities. "That was stupid, Jess." Alexa broke the silence without stepping away from the boy. Their faces nearly pressed together as he simply watched her. "You could have seriously got hurt. I mean look what you did to him. He's probably got just... hurt really bad, okay? I don't know exactly why you did it... but..." Her voice trailed off as she noticed the small smile on his lip. It curved sideways as they all tended to do, which she'd always found to be something sort of cute.

"Why are you smiling?" Alexa frowned at the sight as Jess tilted his head at her slightly, his smile still present. "Just am." He shrugged simply with his dark eyes still locked on hers. He seemed devious — he seemed like he was up to something, or there was something on his mind. Not anything he'd let Alexa figure out. "Jess..."

"Fuck him. Just don't be around him anymore, please." His final word came off as a whisper as if begging the waitress to keep her fair distance from the jock.  She didn't know the reasoning behind the fight, but his words started to imply the truth. Had it been for her? 

It was when she glanced back up at him that she saw something different inside Jess. She couldn't quite pinpoint what at that moment, but there was a type of serotonin inside of him that she desired. His eyes glanced down at her slightly chapped lips which only looked like the most desirable thing in the room. She noticed this quickly, feeling her heart race at the thought. Alexa had no idea if she'd kiss him back if he followed through with the mission. But the thought wasn't all so bad...

If only she had the chance to find out, with their near connection interrupted by the sound of the front door. Alexa huffed and bit down on her bottom lip. "Lexie, Exie-Doo, where are you?" Lorelai practically sang throughout the house. The girl faced Jess and ushered him into her bedroom, making her way down the stairs alone. She was taken in by the sight of her Aunt, Cousin, and Pure-Evil (Sir. Christopher Hayden) dressed head to toe in something favoring Bridgerton. Her Aunt had a relieved look when she noticed her niece, walking toward her immediately. "Lexie! God, sweetie, we went to Luke's but there was this huge crowd like they were having some seance-" The inn owner seemed to panic at the recollection of events. "-And Luke said there was a fight and Jess was probably with you and- are you okay?"

Alexa pushed her hair behind her ear as she sighed. "I'm okay. Um..." Her voice trailed off as her cousin spoke up, making her way towards Alexa. "What happened?"

"I don't know... Jess... he..." Alexa shrugged before running a hand through her hair. She turned towards her Aunt. "Remember that trust thing we're working on? Well, he's in my bedroom right now. So don't fret. Just trust. Because he just took some Fight Club type hits, okay?"

"Alex-" Lorelai started as her niece cut her off quickly. "No, just. Can he hang out for awhile please? I know Luke's gonna be pissed and there's gonna be a million people at the diner trying to find Jess for like the rest of the night. He just-" She shut her mouth for a minute as her Aunt watched her intently. "He's my… friend, Lor. And he's dripping blood."

It was as if Lorelai Gilmore's life flashed before her eyes as she sighed and wrapped her arms around her niece. "Okay, Lexie. I trust you. Please don't be like any of the babysitters in the horror films getting it on, on the couch— that's your bed because you don't have a couch in your room so-"

"Your prince awaits you," Rory cuts off her mother as she ushers Alexa out of her arms. Lorelai nodded along as Alexa left the room. Leaving a family of three — that hardly could be considered one, to themselves. Especially leaving Lorelai Gilmore hoping she put her trust in the right place.

When Alexa made her way back upstairs, she found the bookworm skimming through her stack of vinyl records. Alice Cooper's 'Hey Stoopid' in his arms. "Good record," The girl announced as she cracked the door behind her. Jess glanced over at her with a smirk that could kill. "You only like it because Nikki Sixx did bass on Feed My Frankenstein."

The brunette jokingly shrugged her shoulders before taking a seat on her bed. Her back pressed against the tie-dyed pillow she received from Lane Kim for her birthday months ago. Her eyes watched the boy whose eyes were trapped on her own. It was mad to her how good he looked with a crimson tint to his cheeks. She also knew he'd get shit at school on Monday from just about everyone. Stars Hollow is an especially small town if you haven't figured that out by now. The news of the fight would reign the town within the hour. Hell, Babette was probably already running around telling everyone.

"Where are you from?" Alexa asked suddenly, as 'Rock of Ages' hummed in the background. Jess placed the record back on top of the collection. He shrugged. "Lots of places..." He answered in this typical uninterested tone until he remembered exactly who he was talking to. "New York, though." Jess finally answered as he took a seat at the end of her bed, his body slightly turned towards hers. "Hm, I've got some wild New York stories."

Jess almost smiled at her words as he pressed his back to her wall, now able to fully see the girl at her headboard. "With sewer rats and subway psychos?" He hummed in humor making Alexa shoot him a smile. His eyes lit up at this and he could almost forget the pain resting on his face and his knuckles... almost.

"Where are you from, you're not a Stars Hollower I know," Jess asked the girl making her giggle at the thought. "'Hollower' really? God- um, well if you can't tell from my accent, I grew up in Newport."

"You don't fit California." He commented with ease as Alexa nodded in agreeance. Alexa Gilmore wasn't made for a life by the sea. Surrounded by riches feigning kindness. "You're right I definitely fit this hellhole even more." She joked making Jess shoot her his suddenly infamous crooked grin.

A comfortable silence fell between the two as Jess studied the girl's room. Posters filled the walls with random bands and various tv shows. Her vanity was lined with pictures of people and places. The sound of Lorelai coming upstairs and going into the bathroom echoed throughout the upstairs, making Jess sigh. He was drop-kicked back into reality. The diner boy stood up and reached for the window he'd grown accustomed of climbing out of. 

"Jess," Alexa called, catching his attention. "Can't leave Lukey alone too long — he might die," He mumbled with a slight smirk as Alexa shook her head at her. She stared at him silently before huffing. "Can you stay for a little bit longer... please? I'll talk to Luke."

"Don't think I'm very welcome." The brunette boy told her with the sound of Lorelai entering her bedroom in the background. The girl batted her eyelashes without attempt, making Jess's thoughts turn curious. "But... I know you'll miss me so much." He hummed as he jumped on the bed, this time sitting beside the girl. She smiled at him while shoving his head playfully with her hand. "In your dreams, Mariano."

"You always are."

[skeletonsloverockcandy]

One thing I’m seeing on this re-read of Dracula Daily that I’m already really enjoying, it’s all the little details we didn’t catch before

When we first started we didn’t know who Jonathan Harker was and to us he was just a silly little British man who was ignoring the obvious warning signs, so there was a comedic element to the dramatic irony of him going to Castle Dracula

But now that we know who Jonathan is and we care about him, it hits much harder all the subtle horror elements we missed while focusing on this good friend telling us about his travels

From the first entry, people picking up on the dog barking under his window and being like “is that Dracula? Does it start this early?” Being skeeved out by Dracula’s overly familiar letter to Jonathan, which at first seemed perfectly reasonable except for the name attached at the end, and picking up on all the terrible foreshadowing for what will be Jonathan’s living hell over the next month in his Castle.

And people this time picking up on the bravery of the wife of the innkeeper who gave him a crucifix, begging him to stay or wait, to not go to the castle, of the terror of knowing that Dracula was in correspondence with her husband to get the letter to Jonathan and the sort of subtle threat they must be under at all times, of the significance of “for your mother’s sake” knowing what Dracula does to children. She is no longer perceived as a random background character, but an active player forced to be a bystander who is trying desperately to help this ignorant soul in any way she can even if she knows it might be useless.

I love people realizing Jonathan is skeptical and off-put, but not enough to deter his mission. He’s not oblivious, just making an effort to remain open-minded to the culture and superstitions and beliefs he is not familiar with, since he’s aware it will be wildly different from his own (to the best of his ability for being an Englishman from the 1890s) and pointedly dismissing the things that might be red flags as an attempt to rationalize because nothing truly concerning has happened yet to provoke him to leave, and he doesn’t want to be deterred by something he’s getting worked up for for no reason yet, he couldn’t do his job otherwise and people are depending on him

Idk, I just like this deeper analysis and thought now that people are already familiar and attached to his character, and now know what happens, so they can properly point out when something is foreshadowing later events or themes in the novel, and they can pick up on it quicker

Even something as simple as people noticing the other meals mentioned in the first entry because of all the focus on Paprika Hendl last year makes me happy :)

I like that they are giving our protagonist more credit now, knowing the character he turns into later in the novel (a badass)

It is satisfying :)))

[kazvha]

Can you do Blue Lock Sae x female reader x Rin? The brothers are fighting for her love.

Summary: Headcanons of how Sae and Rin fight for your love

Notes: 1.4k words. The first half is about how you ended up between them and it's quite long. You can skip to "♡" for the actual "fighting"

Part 2: Choosing one of them

Plot twist: Choosing Isagi/Shidou instead of Rin or Sae

• Sae and you met coincidentally in Spain. He was there for football, while you were there on vacation. It happened in a cafe where you two ended up at the same table because any other seats were already taken. His grumpy face made you nervous at first, but your conversation sparked naturally after he saw that you ordered the same meal

• After chatting for an hour together, it was time to go for him. To your dismay, you forgot to ask for his number and even his name

• You never saw him again, even so, you thought of him every time you drank a coffee and you gave him the name "mysterious cafe guy"

• Some years later you moved to Japan. And imagine your surprise when you saw him on a big billboard modeling for some sort of perfume? Then you also found out that Sae was actually a famous football player???

• You were baffled but happy to finally put a name to the face you didn't forget after all these years

• As if some force pulled you two together, you met again by chance in a quiet cafe. At first, you weren't sure if it was him because his face was hiding behind his big hoodie and his cap. You were also hesitant since he was a famous person, but after contemplating for a few minutes, you decided to take your chance and ask him if he remembered you. After explaining how you two met in Spain, Sae nodded slowly and asked you how you've been

• Truthfully, Sae also couldn't get you off his mind. He actually developed a little crush on you and he beat himself up all these years for not asking for your contact info

• This time he just couldn't miss the opportunity to ask for your number and you happily gave it to him

• The two of you became good friends. It was a normal thing for you to text and call each other throughout the day and if Sae had some free time you hung out

• On the holidays he invited you to meet his parents with him. Rin was also home during that time, but Sae didn't pay him any mind

• The whole time you chatted with his parents, Sae stared at you. It was barely noticeable, but there was a certain fondness in his gaze

• Of course Rin noticed it. He also noticed the subtle touches Sae initiated, like poking you with his elbow or putting his hand on your shoulder

• It intrigued him that his brother was so smitten by you. What was so special about you anyway? And more importantly, will Sae get angry if he takes you away from him? Driven by his envy and his malicious thoughts, he approached you

• Your first interaction was when Sae left the table to make a phone call and you decided to go check your makeup. You asked Sae's mother where the bathroom was and she ordered Rin to show it to you so you didn't get lost in their big house. Rin frowned but grumpily stood up after some more nagging from his mom

• "It's there." He pointed to the door beside him and leaned against the wall, crossing his arms. You thanked him and quickly freshened yourself up. To your surprise, Rin was still standing next to the door after you finished. "Let's go."

• He didn't say anything after that, but you appreciated him waiting for you. Your lips curled up in a little smile and you didn't notice how Rin eyed you the whole way back to the living room

• Sae scowled when he saw you two coming down the hallway together. As you took your seat beside him, his eyes didn't leave yours. "He didn't do anything, did he?"

• "What do you mean?" you replied, but Sae didn't say anything else and just coldly glared at his brother whose lips curled up into a faint smirk

• Sae brought you home afterward. He warned you to stay away from Rin because of his nasty personality, but you laughed it off saying Rin probably learned it from Sae himself

• That night you got a text from an unknown number asking you if you made it home safely. Turns out it was Rin who got your number from his mother (their mother was such a sweetheart and wanted to continue talking to you)

• You replied with yes and somehow the conversation turned from speaking about how creepy the night can be to his liking for horror games and movies. He invited you to watch one together to see if you're actually tough or you're just bluffing. You two texted for hours till you looked at the clock and saw that it was already 2 am

• Your "movie date" was more amusing than you thought it would be. If you were scared, Rin didn't hesitate to wrap his arm around you and pull you closer to his body every time a jumpscare came up. If you weren't, you two did gossip about how bad and predictable the film was. His dry comments were often so funny to you and kind of reminded you of Sae's humor. Every time you laughed or said something Rin unconsciously leaned forward

• Since the movie date was a success, you continued to spend more time together. Rin originally approached you to spite his brother, but little did he know that he himself would become so smitten with you

• When Sae found out that you hung out with his little brother he was furious, which you didn't understand at all. He refused to tell you why he disliked Rin, and it was the same case with his brother. Rin avoided the topic every time you brought it up

♡ You found yourself between the brothers:

• Sae cleared his schedule much more than before to spend more time with you than you do with Rin. He liked to impress you with gifts like cute jewelry he discovered on his travels

• Whenever Rin saw the jewelry on you, he had to fight the urge to rip it off. Another solution he came up with was to simply buy you better gifts

• One time he bought you a ring and you thanked him, but he just answered "I'm glad you like it. Now you don't have to wear this ugly anymore." and took Sae's ring off your finger

• You found yourself rotating your jewelry every time you saw one of the brothers after Sae disappointedly asked you where his ring was one day

• If the two brothers were in the same space with you, each one wouldn't take their gaze off of you. If one brother was spending too much time with you, the other one would stare at you with a frown and would try to think of ways to separate you

• Rin loved to fluster you. It could be leaning in too close to attentively listen to what you have to say. Lingering touches when you two were play fighting. Leaning his head on your shoulder when he felt tired after training. Sharing the same drink

• Sae tried to sway you with other actions like you being the first one he visits after his travels. Genuinely complimenting you. Also genuinely reprimanding you when he thinks you do something dumb. Giving you a tight hug you feel down.

• Both of them were aware that their war for your love and affection was childish but neither wanted to stop

• Despite their grudges against each other, the brothers played in the same soccer team. Each match was another headache for you because Sae and Rin both always tried to convince you to wear their jersey with their own name and number

• Your last straw was after a particular match. You got a message from Sae who asked you if you wanted to come over to the hotel where he was staying. He wanted to tell you something important

• Before you could answer him, you received another text from Rin who called you over to the park where he was currently at. He also said there was something important you would like to hear

• You knew you had to decide between Sae and Rin one day. You weren't dumb, you noticed how the Itoshi brothers both looked at you and treated you well. But you hesitated to go one step further since that meant the other brother would be heartbroken and it would risk your friendship. Could you even cope with that?

[chiyuuchu]

A Fox’s offering <3 (31st July 2024)

Suna Rintarou x Reader

Prompt! Suna grows fond of the Miya twins little sister and approaches her with subtle gestures.

Suna Rintarou had always been the cool and aloof type, a master of nonchalance on and off the court. But there was one person who managed to crack his calm exterior—Y/N, the first-year student who happened to be the little sister of his teammates, Osamu and Atsumu.

Y/N was the epitome of gentleness. Her presence was like a breath of fresh air, her sweet smile and kind demeanor making everyone around her feel at ease. Suna had known her for a while, but it was during one of her visits to their volleyball practices that he realized just how much he liked her.

One day, as the team finished up their practice, Suna noticed Y/N standing by the sidelines, clutching a small bag of snacks. She was chatting with some of the other players, her laughter like soft bells ringing through the gym. Suna’s heart fluttered every time he saw her.

Suna, feeling a bit bold, walked over to where Y/N was standing. He casually held out a bottle of her favorite drink. “Hey, Y/N. I accidentally got two of these, so you can have one.”

Y/N’s eyes sparkled with surprise and gratitude. “Oh, thank you, Suna! That’s so sweet of you.”

Suna shrugged, trying to play it cool. “No problem. Just thought you might like it.”

She accepted the drink with a shy smile, and Suna couldn’t help but feel a warmth spread through him. They chatted for a few minutes, with Suna finding himself lost in her gentle demeanor. He was grateful for these small moments, even if he had to come up with excuses to make them happen.

A few days later, as Y/N visited the gym again, Suna noticed her looking a bit tired. Without hesitation, he reached into his bag and pulled out a small box of her favorite pastries.

“Hey, Y/N,” he said, trying to sound casual. “I accidentally bought too many of these, so you should have one.”

Y/N’s face lit up with a smile. “You’re always so thoughtful, Suna. Thank you!”

Suna’s heart skipped a beat as he watched her enjoy the pastry. They talked for a while longer, and Suna made sure to subtly drop hints about his feelings without being too obvious. He enjoyed these interactions more than he let on, cherishing each moment he got to spend with her.

The following evening, as practice wrapped up, Osamu and Atsumu joined Suna, their faces sporting amused grins.

“Hey, Suna,” Osamu said with a knowing look. “Seems like you’ve been pretty generous with our little sister lately.”

Atsumu snorted. “Yeah, always with the ‘I accidentally got two’ excuse. You’re pretty smooth, huh?”

Suna’s cheeks turned slightly pink even with his usual poker face. “I’m just trying to be nice.”

Atsumu laughed. “Nice, huh? Well, you’re doing a good job. Y/N seems to really enjoy your company.”

Suna shrugged, trying to hide his embarrassment. “She’s great. I just want her to be happy.”

As everyone left the gym, Suna felt a sense of contentment. Each time he saw Y/N, his feelings grew stronger. The little gestures of kindness he extended to her were his way of showing how much he cared, even if he had to play it cool.

And as he walked home, Suna thought about the next time he’d see her. Maybe, he’d finally find the courage to tell her how he truly felt. For now, he was happy with their sweet exchanges and the gentle way she made his heart flutter.

[rocketbirdie]

Arrrghh. People are finishing up Rebirth and looking up the different localizations, and the inevitable wave of hate for the English version is starting to gain traction again just like with Remake. I guess I just get super defensive about it because I have worked on large translation projects before, and it's not as straightforward as players seem to think.

It's not like the good ol' days of "This Guy Are Sick." They don't write the JPN script first, and then just send it out for translation anymore. Nowadays the different language scripts are all written simultaneously, with the teams working back and forth together, to check over each ofher's work and make sure that no one sentence is under- or overshooting a goal. Like it or not— everything is checked over and approved.

There's a lot more being translated than just words. There's so much to take into account— tone of voice, the cultural context, the lip sync and corresponding length of each line (which isn't allowed to run over by more than 0.2 seconds which is CRAZY). It's a messy process and it's a lot of goddamn work.

And then there's the audience, too. Different languages' audiences are often going to have wildly different interpretations of a character. A really good example from FFVII would be Yuffie. In the JPN version of the OG, Yuffie is written to be a confident girl who's dead serious about her ninja training. The ENG translation didn't do that justice... she instead comes off as a silly annoying kid pretending to be a ninja. Remake's DLC was testing the waters to see if they could write Yuffie in a way that's still faithful to both of the strikingly different regional perceptions of her character. And they nailed it.

The same thing happened with Cloud, and continues to influence the way he's written in the Re-trilogy. It's much more subtle than with Yuffie, but it's still noticeable, and I think it's why a lot of people get up in arms about his dialogue.

Cloud has always been written as having a stark disconnect between his tone of voice and his choice of words. It's just that the two major languages get it swapped! JPN Cloud has a harsh, mean tone, but his choice of words is polite and easygoing. On the other hand, ENG Cloud says a LOT of nasty shit out loud, but his true feelings are betrayed by his soft voice and gentle body language.

The difference goes unnoticed by the average player who isn't so invested to give a damn. But if you're actively searching for "bad translations" to get mad at, then you'll find them where one version's Cloud comes off a bit too strong. It's only natural that English Cloud is the one that pisses people off more often— after all, he's literally saying stupid shit to to piss other characters off constantly. His character is so convincing that players want to reach into their screens and wring his neck, and I think that's glorious.

But that's why it upsets me to see people turn that frustration at the localization teams. They didn't "ruin" a character's dialogue— they were just barely able to make something work, all things considered. Character, line length, culture, story context, facial animations, voice acting, for MULTIPLE languages, like... holy shit. It's a miracle that most of it is really really good, and that the bad is only a little bit bad.

Idk where this rant is going. Just... c'mon people. Have some respect for such an insanely complicated art form.

[brodygold]

Alone

Trevor had never felt more alone in his life. A self-professed nerd and introvert, he’d always preferred the comfort of video games and late-night chats over social gatherings. His circle was small—really, it was just him and Mike, his best friend. They were inseparable, bonding over games, anime, and cracking jokes about the latest girl to catch their eye. Mike was his one constant in a world that often felt overwhelming.

But now, Mike was gone.

It had been weeks since Mike’s sudden disappearance from his life, and Trevor couldn’t shake the growing pit of anxiety in his stomach. Mike was usually the type to respond within seconds to any message, but after sending a cryptic text saying the captain of the Golden Army, the local soccer team, wanted to meet him, Mike had gone completely silent. No replies, no updates—just radio silence. Trevor worried endlessly, wondering if something terrible had happened to his friend.

One afternoon, on his way home, Trevor decided to take a shortcut through the park. As he approached the soccer field, he saw a group of players practicing. Their golden jerseys gleamed in the sun, and Trevor’s attention was drawn to one particular figure among them. His breath caught in his throat.

It couldn’t be… Mike?

He rubbed his eyes and squinted, trying to make sense of what he was seeing. The guy on the field looked like Mike—same height, same build, even that familiar mop of hair—but there was something off. He looked stronger, more confident, and… was that him kissing another guy? Trevor blinked, stunned. Mike was never into sports, let alone making out with a dude on a soccer field. His heart raced as the player—Mike, or at least someone who looked exactly like him—glanced his way, noticing him. The guy jogged over, a wide grin spreading across his face.

“Hey, man. What’s up?” That voice—it was Mike. But something was different, something in the way he carried himself, the way he spoke with casual ease.

“Mike?” Trevor stammered. “What the hell happened to you? You’re playing soccer now?”

The man chuckled, shaking his head. “It’s Brody now, actually. The captain gave me the name. Says it fits me better as a jock.”

Trevor stared at him, confused. “Brody? What do you mean, you’re a jock? You never cared about sports before. And… kissing guys? That’s never been your thing. What’s going on?”

Brody—Mike—smiled warmly, as if Trevor had asked a simple question. “The team helped me figure some things out, man. There were parts of myself I didn’t know were there until now. The Golden Army isn’t just about soccer. They’ll help you discover your true self too. You don’t have to be alone anymore, Trevor. All you have to do is accept the jersey.”

Trevor’s mind swirled with questions. The Golden Army had done this? Changed Mike into Brody? He felt a knot of hesitation in his chest, but there was also a strange pull. Mike—Brody—looked genuinely happy. Relaxed. More confident than Trevor had ever seen him. Could the same happen for him?

“I don’t know, man,” Trevor muttered, his voice unsure. “I’ve never been into sports. This isn’t me.”

“I get it,” Brody said, stepping closer. “I was the same way. But the thing is, you don’t need to be perfect at it. You just need heart. You’ll have a brotherhood here to back you up, to make sure you’re the best version of yourself. We’ll never let you feel alone again.”

Trevor looked around at the team, the camaraderie on display, the shared laughs, and the energy they radiated. He had felt so isolated these past weeks. Would it be so bad to have that kind of support? A brotherhood?

“Alright,” Trevor said, swallowing his doubt. “I’ll do it.”

Brody’s grin widened. “I knew you’d come around.” He jogged over to the rest of the team, grabbing a jersey from a duffle bag, and returned with it outstretched in his hands. “Here. Your new start.”

Trevor hesitated for a second before taking the golden jersey from his friend. As he slipped it over his head, he felt a subtle but undeniable shift in his body. His muscles tensed, growing firmer, expanding in ways he hadn’t thought possible. His posture straightened, and with each passing second, he felt more… capable. More athletic. The physical changes weren’t drastic—he’d always been in decent shape—but they solidified him as someone who belonged on the field.

But the real transformation was happening in his mind. His passion for video games and geek culture began to fade, replaced by a burning desire to compete, to win. Thoughts of girls were suddenly distant, replaced by memories of intense, celebratory moments with his new teammates, locked in embraces after a game, or sharing kisses as a show of their bond. His name—Trevor—felt foreign now, an echo from another life.

“Ash,” he whispered, as if testing the name. It felt right. It felt like him.

Brody, now standing beside him, clapped him on the back. “How do you feel, Ash?”

Ash turned, eyes locking with Brody’s. A smile crept across his lips as he leaned in and kissed him, feeling the electric rush of camaraderie and something deeper. “Better than ever.”

And in that moment, Ash knew he’d never be alone again.

[dazailover4ever]

Title: In Safe Hands

Kuroo x reader

Summary: After you sprain your ankle during volleyball practice, Kuroo insists on taking care of you. Despite your initial resistance, his concern and gentle support make you realize it’s okay to let someone else help you when you need it.

today, there’s a small hitch in your step—a subtle pain in your ankle that you’ve been trying to ignore. You had twisted it slightly earlier in practice, but there was no way you were going to let that stop you. You’ve been through worse and pushed through it. Your team counts on you to be strong.

As you land from another spike, the pain flares up, sharper this time. You bite down on your lip, forcing yourself to stay upright, to not show any sign of weakness. You don’t want your team to worry. They’ve got enough on their plates, and the last thing they need is to be distracted by you.

You glance over at the boys’ side of the gym, where they’re also finishing up their practice. Among them, Tetsurō Kuroo stands out, his presence commanding even when he’s not trying to be the center of attention. You’ve known Kuroo for years, since you were kids running around the neighborhood. You’ve always respected him—as a player, as a leader, and as someone who understands the pressures of being a captain.

He catches your eye briefly, and you quickly look away, focusing back on your team. The last thing you want is for him to notice anything’s wrong. Kuroo’s the type to make a big deal out of it, and you really don’t need him hovering over you right now.

But of course, Kuroo notices everything.

As practice winds down, you can feel your ankle throbbing in time with your heartbeat. You grit your teeth, giving your teammates a reassuring smile as you dismiss them. They leave the gym one by one, chatting and laughing, oblivious to the discomfort you’re trying so hard to mask.

You tell yourself you’ll just ice it when you get home, that you’ll be fine. But as you start to gather your things, the pain spikes so suddenly that you lose your balance. You brace yourself against the nearest wall, sucking in a sharp breath. You hadn’t realized how bad it had gotten.

Before you can even process what’s happening, a familiar voice breaks through your thoughts.

“Hey you okay?”

You look up to see Kuroo standing there, his brow furrowed in concern. Damn it. You’d been so focused on keeping your team from noticing that you hadn’t realized he’d been watching you the whole time.

“I’m fine,” you say quickly, forcing a smile. “Just a little tired, that’s all.”

He doesn’t look convinced. In fact, he looks even more worried. He takes a step closer, his eyes narrowing as he studies you. “You’re limping. What happened?”

You sigh, knowing there’s no point in lying to him. “I twisted my ankle earlier. It’s nothing serious, though. I just need to ice it.”

Kuroo’s expression darkens, and before you can protest, he’s kneeling down to inspect your ankle. His hands are surprisingly gentle as he carefully lifts your foot, his touch sending a shiver up your spine.

“You should’ve said something,” he mutters, his tone a mix of frustration and concern. “You could’ve made it worse by pushing through practice.”

You swallow, feeling a little guilty. “I didn’t want to worry anyone. The team needs to focus, and—”

“And what about you?” Kuroo cuts you off, his gaze snapping up to meet yours. “You’re the captain, Your health is important, too. If you’re not at your best, how can you lead your team?”

His words hit harder than you expect, and you find yourself unable to argue. He’s right, of course, but admitting that feels like a defeat in itself.

Kuroo sighs, his expression softening as he sees the conflict in your eyes. “Come on, let’s get you to the nurse’s office. You need to get that looked at properly.”

You start to protest, but he’s already standing up, his hand outstretched to help you. You hesitate for a moment, then reluctantly take his hand, allowing him to pull you to your feet. As soon as you put weight on your injured ankle, you wince, and Kuroo is there to steady you, his arm slipping around your waist to support you.

“It’s okay,” he says softly, his voice reassuring. “I’ve got you.”

You nod, leaning into him more than you’d like to admit. It feels strange, letting someone else take care of you. You’re so used to being the strong one, the one who others rely on. But right now, with Kuroo by your side, you feel a sense of relief wash over you.

As the two of you make your way out of the gym, you can’t help but notice how close he’s holding you, his arm firm but gentle around your waist. There’s a warmth in his touch that makes your heart skip a beat, and you wonder if he can feel it, too.

When you finally reach the nurse’s office, Kuroo helps you onto the examination bed, his movements careful and deliberate. The nurse checks your ankle, confirming that it’s a sprain and that you’ll need to rest and ice it for the next few days. She gives you a bandage and some painkillers, and Kuroo listens intently to every instruction, like he’s preparing to take care of you himself.

Afterward, as you sit on the bed with your ankle wrapped, Kuroo leans against the wall, watching you with an unreadable expression. You can feel his eyes on you, and it makes your cheeks warm.

“You’re going to be okay,” he says eventually, breaking the silence. “But you need to take it easy. Promise me you’ll rest.”

You nod, feeling a little overwhelmed by the concern in his voice. “I will. Thanks, Kuroo.”

He gives you a small smile, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “You don’t have to do everything on your own, you know. If you ever need help… or just someone to talk to… I’m here.”

There’s something in his tone, something that makes your heart flutter. You’ve always known that Kuroo cares about you, but this feels different, more intimate. It’s as if he’s trying to tell you something without saying it outright.

You look up at him, searching his eyes for answers, but before you can say anything, he pushes off the wall and moves to stand beside you.

“Come on,” he says gently, “I’ll walk you home.”

You want to protest, to tell him that you can manage on your own, but the look in his eyes stops you. There’s no point in arguing with Kuroo when he’s this determined.

So you nod, letting him help you off the bed. As you lean on him, his arm once again around your waist, you can’t help but feel a sense of comfort in his closeness. Maybe, just this once, it’s okay to let someone else take care of you.

As the two of you leave the school, walking slowly down the quiet streets, you find yourself leaning into Kuroo more than before. The sun is setting, casting a warm glow over everything, and you realize that, despite the pain in your ankle, you feel at peace.

With Kuroo by your side, you know you’re in safe hands.

—THE END—