#with a guy who gets replaced by someone else and its obvious that the new guy isn't the old guy

[pippuns]

the only thing that could have improved SVSSS is if shen jiu was in the background providing scathing hateful commentary the entire time. i want to see him and shen yuan eat each other alive <3

[chrollohearttags]

CHARM’D • mikasa ackerman

your fiancée gets a new piercing and you decide to have some fun with it.

content + themes: nail tech!mikasa, black fem!reader, y/n is a lash tech, subby mika, her and y/n cracking jokes on each other, overstimulation, pillow humping, use of toys, scissoring, heavy squirting, fingering, bratty mika, gay bestie!armin cameo

── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.─── ── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* : ── ･

most people would say working with your significant other seems like a great time. Being around the one person you love more then life itself and earning a living at the same time? You couldn’t ask for a better deal. However, it did have its challenging moments..discipline and focus is an important part of anyone’s employment. Regardless of the job but especially when tending to someone’s beauty and esthetic needs, it was imperative to pay attention. Hence why your fiancée despised the fact that you were working alongside her as her new lash tech some days! Granted, she was thrilled to have you around and with an extra service and set of hands around, you guys’ income practically tripled. So it was a pretty sweet deal. However, you didn’t make it easy…in fact, you acted as if giving her a hard time was your actual occupation..

“Are you sure we can’t just fill them in and work around it? C’mon, Mika. You sure you can’t just do your magic?”

“Sweetheart, how long have you been a client of mine? I’m an artist, not a repair woman. Two things I refuse to do is fly coach and work over other people’s fuck ups. Now let’s soak these off so I can give you a fresh set. While you’re waiting, Armin can get you in the shampoo bowl. Since he’s sitting on his skinny ass, doing nothing.”

needless to say, it was never a dull moment! You guys’ hairstylist and resident smartass, Armin Artlert was currently seated in one of the styling chairs, typing away on his phone.

“And don’t forget looking cute. Just blind and grouchy.”

“Whatever. Help her before I suddenly find your replacement.”

it was obvious that the normally laid back nail tech was in rare form this morning. Not so much rude or angry but definitely on edge a little. The shop was a little busy but nothing more than usual for the Sugar and Spice Haus. It was normal for clients to be waiting outside the door so she couldn’t have been frazzled by that. So what exactly had her acting so strange? Perhaps it was a question better answered by the one person who knew her better than anyone else..and who ironically was the root cause of the issue!

“Oh, don’t pay her any attention, y’all. She’s just a little worked up. Isn’t that right, baby?”

just then, a rather gleeful (y/n) would come traipsing from the back of the salon..strapless dress and sandals, holding a caddy full of lash supplies. In return, the only thing you were met with was a decorated middle finger and the roll of dark, doe eyes. Your fiancée was quite the bratty thing when she wanted to be but she was oh so cute….

“Oh shut up. I’m not talking to you right now.”

hence why you took immense pleasure in teasing her among other things..something that began long before the two of you even opened shop this morning..

── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.─── ── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* : ── ･

flashback: earlier that morning..

── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.─── ── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* : ── ･

“Oh God!…yes..right there!…”

“Aw, is that your spot, baby? Are you gonna come?”

the high pitch, condescending coo spouting from your lips rang off into the ears of your very whiny and overstimulated fiancée. Who had just been sleep only twenty minutes prior or so it would appear. Because as the two of you awoke for the morning, ready to start another day in the home and salon you shared as not only lovers, but business partners…you were met with a rather pleasant surprise. Faint whimpers and the sight of your precious Mikasa grinding herself against her pillow. Her tits spilling from her tank top; fondled in her palms, hair brushing against the sheets and her panties tugged to the side as her bare slit rubbed profusely against the memory foam material. She had to have been in utter bliss from the sounds erupting from her mouth. Not only that, she looked so sexy..however, you knew it was rather unbecoming of your woman too. Granted, your sex life was anything but mundane and the two of you took any opportunity plausible to fuck, lick or kiss on one another. However, for the past few days or so, she seemed to be evading you. Claiming to be far too exhausted for any sort of sexual activity. She’d shower alone and even halt you if things got too intense. One would think that was indicative of infidelity and that their partner was with someone else. But alas, her dirty little secret came to light and needless to say, you’d return the pent up sexual frustration ten fold!..

“Oh? What’s this?…” she just knew that once you unveiled the truth, you’d never allow her to live it down. And she was correct.

“(Y/N)..baby…fuck me!..”

the truth was, she had snuck behind your back and acquired a clit piercing. More than likely from the same artist who had decorated her skin in the plethora of tattoos she sported. But what she hadn’t counted on was becoming so hypersensitive afterwards. It was one of those things that could go either way, depending on the person. Getting piercings in intimate area could either make you lose all feeling or make you super sensitive to the touch. For poor Mikasa, she was the latter to a fault! You would’ve thought that she would’ve learned her lesson when she got her nipples pierced and they sent her into a frenzy with something as simple as putting on a bra on. But you were more than happy to meet her request..flipping her over onto her back, (y/n) promptly shoved your tongue into her mouth; jaw agape and slack from being on the brink of climax. Her pierced nipples puffy and erect and of course..that adorable little clit; marked with a silver ball and bar going through it. It looked so cute and she looked even more precious..practically begging for you to claim her. Slick surrounded that fat pussy of hers and you just knew she was close.

“Oh you poor thing…you’ve been holding out on me…don’t worry, mama. I’ll take care of you..”

reassuring her with your lips honing on her neck. Tender kisses trailing down her throat and those fingers following suit to her mound. Tracing your digits across her freshly waxed skin, you’d tease around the area, refusing to touch the actual bud. “But first..I need you to do sum’ for me, okay?” So gently cooing to her. At this point, she was desperate so she was at your mercy.

“Yes, baby!..whatever you want..”

crying out as you moved your fingertips lower as well as your mouth, leaving them to hover over her jeweled nipples. Drawing a long trail of saliva along with you in the process. That’s when you’d shove those two opposite fingers between her lips and force her to suckle, drumming up her own spit. “Suck on these f’r me. Get them wet…just like that.” She’d happily comply, knowing that you’d help her reach her peak soon. Whilst she was busy drooling and whining, you’d ease one digit inside of her with your thumb resting on her clit. She looked so helpless and vulnerable..turning you on more and more by the second. Mikasa’s back would raise from the bed as you pushed those digits knuckle deep into her core. You’d feel them suction and tighten around you and continue pressing until they were stained with a sheath of milky white and sticky clear liquid..dripping all down your nails. You kept them short just for special instances like these. So you could pump them in and out her pretty pussy and watch her squirm, yelping for more.

“Ah! Haaaa…oh my god! Right there! Yes…”

“Aw, am I in your spot, baby? Are you gonna come?”

nodding her head profusely; your dormant thumb now tracing circles against her clit and even flicking that piercing for added stimulation. Needless to say, she couldn’t hold back any longer and seconds later, when you finally gave her permission, you’d find your arm, the sheets and anything surrounding you two drenched in her juices. Squirting everywhere..and became inconsolable afterwards. “That’s it!…let it go, let it go for meee..squirt on those fingers.” Encouraging with loud cries ringing out through the bedroom. She was practically convulsing once you withdrew your fingers. Allowing them to drip, you’d dangle them over her lips and allow her to clean them off. “Mmmhm..taste yourself, baby…you look so pretty.”

running a hand along her torso and up to her throat yet again to wrangle her in for a kiss. Haven gotten a taste of her sweet essence, you decided to get your entire fill by finally leaving a trail of pecks leading to her pelvis before tousling your own side of the covers off and climbing on top of her. Without missing a step, you’d part her inked up legs and pin one back whilst intertwining the other with your own. From there, you’d tear off the thin lacy panties she was wearing off and put them to much practical use like gagging her. From there, you’d align your frothing slits and start grinding them against one another. Tugging down your own sports bra; dressed in only a bonnet and having fallen asleep with nothing on your lower half, you had become well aroused on your own from her little escapades. With that, Mika would buck her hips forward and work herself against you; meeting your thrusting with tearful pleas to keep fucking her. “Don’t stop, baby! Please don’t fucking stop…” her voice was cracking but her words very concise and clear. Those perky tits bounced around underneath as she gripped the silk linen underneath your bodies. The smacking of your clammy folds and warmth made for a beautiful chorus of steamy, nasty sounds filling the atmosphere…she wasn’t the only one feeling the pressure either because you soon found yourself nearing an orgasm. “I’m gonna come too, mama…fuck! You feel so good..”

laughing out of pure delirium and pleasure, unable to slow down in fear that you’d come on the spot. Those sticky juices smeared across each of your thick thighs as those lower lips meshed together. Eventually, you’d find yourself leaning down to let your tongues clash as well. “Mmph! I love you…” “I love you too, Mika! Fuck, baby…come for me again..”

just then, she’d follow your order and flail around as another stream of juices exited both of your bodies. Spraying up everything in the vicinity. Rubbing those finger pads against her throbbing bud, (y/n) drummed out more and more until she couldn’t spill another drop. You found yourselves going round for round..drawing out one another’s arousal and all that you had to offer. An hour or so had past; an array of positions from being seated on her face while you ate her out, to riding a double sided dildo…

“Yes, baby! You look so pretty riding that fucking dick..go deeper..”

to finally ended your rather heated session with your fingers intertwined as you played with yourselves. Massaging those clots to your final climatic rushes. Coming down in a powerful high with tears streaming down your faces and squirt pooling down your legs. All in all, it seemed that her little piercing was a success and rather useful investment.. “C’mere..that feel good?..” “..yeah..thank you, baby..so much.” Fucked out and dazed from being overly stimulated. But neither of you regretted a thing..that was until you made another proposal with a deviant glare on your face..reaching over into the dresser, you’d retrieve another device: a controller vibrator. One you planned to utilize on her throughout the work day!

“Hell no, (y/n)! I can’t..”.

but it was too late..you had already placed it inside of her and would be utilizing it until you had your fill. You wanted to see how she fared with her little body modification when you were the one in control..and throughout an entire day of work.

maybe next time she wouldn’t keep such secrets from you!

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

@soanis @merakidoll

[shotorozu]

HEYYYY i really wanna see a shoto x reader with the HMM HOW DO I SAY THIS the started dating them to see if he could make them fall in love with him/ started dating them as a challenge but ended up falling for them trope WITH A HAPPY ENDING please help 🙏🙏🙏🙏

just a bet

ft. todoroki shouto (bnha)

use of Y/N and L/N, gender neutral reader, quirk’s not specific

bullet form -> full fledged fanfic (basically it’s written in a bullet form but it turns into your standard fanfic format with paragraphs and such)

fluff, angst with happy ending (shouto misinterprets things said)

note(s): i forgor my format so i made a new one 💀 btw i don’t really see shouto dating someone as a bet, but i can’t see any other way to write this request— so i made my own spin and interpretation on it 😁 anaïs from the future here, and i may or may not have gone overboard 😭

»»————-　♡　————-««

todoroki shouto

as mentioned in the notes section, i don’t see shouto as someone that’d date someone as a challenge— to see if they’d fall in love with him and such, or as a bet.

shouto’s not really invested in his love life when it comes to when he’ll find someone, but that doesn’t mean he won’t take it seriously.

he saw the domino effect his parents’ failed romance had on his family, and refuses to be in an imbalanced relationship— let alone date someone he isn’t dead set on.

so with that being said, a misinterpretation of words is what triggered the current set of events.

kaminari had noticed that the way shouto looked at you couldn’t be friendly, platonic yearning. whether or not shouto thought he was being obvious of not, or if he even realized it— he definitely had feelings for you.

and it was starting to become excruciating to watch for kaminari— to witness a cool, popular and attractive guy, not date this equally cool, popular, and attractive person he likes.

so then, that’s when it started.

scenario (pt. 1)

hook—

“i bet ¥1,200 that you can’t date L/N, todoroki!”

shouto stops in place, giving kaminari a side eye. “i don’t need ¥1,200. i have more than enough in my pocket money.”

line—

kaminari lets out a sigh, forgetting that todoroki’s pockets hurt. but he doesn’t falter one bit. “i meant that, i bet you can’t confess to them, ‘s all. the money was just a bonus.”

and that’s what really catches his attention. “confess to them about what?” he inquires genuinely, like he was trying to recall if he needed to tell you something regarding this.

kaminari’s eyes dart around, like anyone would be around to witness the absurdly. “that you like them? what else??”

shouto thinks for a moment, and it looks as if he’s trying to recall things from a different perspective. “… have i not been clear?”

“to me, yes. to them.. probably? maybe? most likely no.” kaminari says exasperated, hand now coming up to pat his shoulder. shouto feels stiff as a board under the brief contact. “you’re a popular dude, if they realized then you two would’ve been dating for months now!”

“i don’t think confessing right now is necessary. i believe i’m fine with just staying near them. our friendship.. is quite satisfactory.”

—and sinker.

“so you don’t have any courage to confess? does that mean you’ll just let someone else snatch them up?” after the words left his mouth, shouto makes a significantly obvious pause.

kaminari thinks to himself loudly, “hmm.. i wonder who will it be?” he questions, rhetorically. “should i do it? should class 1-B’s ever so cocky monoma do it? they seem to get along swimmingly. or maaaybe—”

“that won’t be a concern.” shouto coldly cuts in. “because i’ll do it.”

kaminari holds back his smile, instead— replacing it with a shocked expression (which isn’t really fabricated becaus he didn’t think he’d actually fold) “really? woah, i didn’t think that’d change your mind so quick.”

“but then wait, what do i get if you lose?”

“hm, what do you get when i lose..” shouto mimics the question— although its not said as one.

“yeah, we are betting on this, right?”

shouto shakes his head. “then it would be an unfair bet.”

“because i’ve planned on confessing and dating them regardless. i will win.”

and he did in fact go on and win the “bet” by a landslide (if you’d even call it one 😭)

he confessed his feelings— pulling you aside one afternoon after class, heart practically hammering in his chest, and stomach fluttering with butterflies.

and you accepted— which made all the anxiety worth it.

he was the ideal boyfriend. not just because he was tall, equipped with stunning and harmonious facial features with equally stunning manners, but it was also because he was just so good to you, and he allowed you to be so good to him too.

he did things he didn’t even have to do, and it all feels comfortably new even months into the relationship— which made you realize that as unbelievable as it sounds, you’re really dating your crush, todoroki shouto.

you felt so sure of yourself when you’re around him.

and that’s why you reacted so harshly when everything that was built up for months seemingly got demolished in minutes.

the two of you were getting warm drinks, when mineta appeared just a few feet away. “you two make me realize that the train tracks look good to lay down on.” he mumbles bitterly.

you laugh, stirring your drink “really now?” kaminari appears shortly after, agreeing. although he doesn’t look as bitter as your shorter classmate.

mineta perks up at that. “yeep. which makes me wonder.. how long are you going to do this for, todoroki? kaminari already lost, y’know?”

todoroki’s eyes widen at the question, “i don’t.. what?”

kaminari turns his head in mineta’s direction, like he said something of great offense, and was about to say more. “mineta, just don’t man.”

“no no, but i’m like, just super curious y’know?” mineta continues, “like, wasn’t it just a bet for you? how did you two get this far?! this is unfair! i didn’t know it would be that easy to get in a relationship!” your grape haired classmate whines, unable to read the sudden atmosphere change.

kaminari gulps, as you set your mug down.

“what does he mean.” you turn to your dual haired boyfriend, you try to steady your breathing to sound nonchalant, but the slight crack in your voice at the start of your sentence betrays you.

shouto opens his mouth, but it just confirmed it for you when he was a second too late to answer.

“you see—” kaminari scrambles to give an excuse, “it was proposed as a bet, but it wasn’t actually a bet, so technically—”

“that sounds like a bet, dude.”

“mineta—”

“it’s not as it sounds. it wasn’t a bet.” shouto answers, “though.. the circumstances should’ve been different.” he admits regretfully, heterochromatic eyes drifting from your face to your feet, noticing how you shift away from him.

and his body runs cold like a quirk malfunction when you grab your mug— fingertips against the now cool porcelain “i.. i just.. no, nevermind, it’s alright. i’m gonna go now, so..”

you know your face and voice will betray you if you stay longer, so you leave.

and shouto stands there, wondering if he should give you space and watch your figure disappear into the dark hallway, or run after you.

he chooses the later.

scenario (pt. 2)

you heave when you finally reach your room, fingers gripping your mug so hard it might just break. your vision’s starting to blur with tears of all the things you’ve been feeling these last few minutes, which is causing you to drop your dorm room’s key and miss the keyhole several times.

when you get the key in, you turn the lock and almost crumble right in when you feel a warm hand placed on your shoulder. you try not to focus on how it’s grip is firm enough to keep you in place, and blazing with familiarity.

he says your name with desperation, and you open your door more and step into your room to create space— the framing of your doorway practically being an invisible barrier.

“no, just no, i can’t,” you say, feeling pathetic when your face started to become wet with tears. you’re still unbelieving that he’d even do this, but the fact that these few months happened under not so standard circumstances was…

“i thought this was— this was something that’d happen out of those stupid teen movies we’d watch, i thought you’d never— i thought—” you hiccup, bringing a hand up to wipe your face with a hand.

he doesn’t say anything, and just breaks the barrier by stepping in and closing the door, setting your mug down on your desk. he then closes even more distance— the space between his brows creasing as he frowns, looking just as upset as you definitely look.

“when did it start? was it before we became close? was it before you asked me out? who else knew? was it all real—”

“it is real!” his voice booms with volume, clearly panicked that the idea of you thinking that his feelings weren’t real was present.

he settles his hands on your shoulders, an attempt to gather your full attention “it’s.. it’s real. if there’s one thing i’d ask you to trust in right now, it’s this. there’s some things i’d like to clarify.”

“please explain,” you practically plead, “i don’t know what to do with this information. i also.. don’t want to break up with you.”

“if you must come to that,” though he looks at you like he prays it won’t come to that. “it must be under the condition that you’ve hurt me instead. not because i’ve caused you hurt.” he lets go of you to sit down on his knees and at your feet.

“shouto, stand up—”

“i.. it’s true that i didn’t confess normally.” he starts off, ignoring your request. “i’ve liked you ever since we’ve became close friends. the moment i realized it, i assumed i was being obvious about my feelings, but kaminari betted that i wouldn’t have the courage to confess and.. someone would get to you first. i took that as a threat.”

you almost laugh at the idea of a jealous shouto, but you don’t— instead, letting out a strangled cough instead. “but i did not date you just because of a bet. i was challenged, but it was never a bet. it wasn’t a bet because there was no chance i’d never confess.”

you sniffle, bending down to be at his level. he reaches up to wipe his thumbs under your eyes— thumbs grazing at your cheekbones. “did you get anything in return? for winning?”

“i got you. that was all i needed.”

“i see..” you lean closer like you were going to whisper him a secret. but instead, you finally touch shouto by circling your arm around him— one arm wrapped around him, and the other flew to entangle your fingers in contrasting locks of hair.

“my drink became cold.” you mumble, rubbing his back when you feel him shake just as you did earlier.

he wraps strong arms around you, returning the affection.

“i’ll warm it up for you.”

[unreliablesnake]

Someone like you (Joel Miller x reader)

Note: Just a little something I had in mind. / If you want to know when I post new stuff, follow @unreliablesnakefics and hit the get notifications button. I don't have a taglist.

Warning: female reader, age gap

You were an addict, just like so many other people in Boston. You were young. You'd never been outside the walls of the QZ. You weren't necessarily the smartest person around–you were street smart, not book smart. And you were inexperienced in a lot of ways.

But for some reason Joel took a liking to you.

You had no idea why, but his brown eyes usually softened whenever you began to talk to him. You didn't always know what words left your lips, you just wanted to talk to him, hoping he would stay with you and listen. Sometimes you joked, and sometimes he even smiled at your silliness.

"Why do you like me?" you asked him one day after taking one of the pills he just gave you.

Joel watched you in silence, and you couldn't decide if he was about to answer or walk away. But then he took a deep breath and said, "Because you remind me of a girl I used to know."

"Oh. Who was she?"

"The girlfriend of a guy I worked for before the outbreak," he replied with the hint of a smile as he looked away. "We were building a guest house for him and she was usually at home when we were there. She always brought us drinks herself instead of sending a maid, and she often invited us in for lunch."

His voice was so different now that he was talking about this girl that you wondered if he still thought about her often after all those years. "Was there something between you?" you dared to ask after a while.

"Not really, we were just flirting with each other."

"But you wanted more than that, didn't you?"

"Of course I did," Joel replied with a laugh that certainly stirred something inside of you. "She was so young and so fuckin' beautiful. But she never crossed that line."

And you reminded him of that girl? Strange. "Well, I'm young, that checks out," you said quietly.

Before you knew it, he was standing in front of you, one hand grabbing your chin tightly to make you look up at him. "Trust me, sweetheart, you're just as beautiful as she was," he assured you, his voice raspy from dryness.

The softness disappeared from his eyes and it was replaced by something else, a strange gleam you hadn't seen before. He was watching you like a hawk, following every little movement with an interested look on his handsome face. Your brain knew what this was all about, and you really, really wished it was true, but a part of you urged you to escape his magnetic field.

"I should go," you said quietly.

Joel's hand moved from your chin, brushing along your jawline as it made its way to the back of your neck as he spoke up. "Why? I have time to talk."

"It's getting late, curfew is about to begin."

"I live nearby. You could stay there with me tonight."

"Why?" you asked hesitantly when he leaned dangerously close to your face.

"Isn't it obvious? I've been dying to fuck you for so damn long." You gulped loudly, having no idea how to react. "The better question is, do you want me?" This wasn't something you had to think about. You nodded without missing a beat and he smiled at you in response before giving you a soft kiss. "Good girl."

[smartycvnt]

Monster

Pairing: Drew Gulak x Reader

Summary: Drew hurts you during a training session and tries avoiding you afterwards because of his guilt.

NR

WC: 738

Everything had happened so fast. One moment, you were on Drew's back so he could show you how to scramble out of your upcoming opponent's submission finisher. The next, you were laying on the ground clutching your knee and crying out in pain. Drew had instantly stood up to check on you. He was saying something, but you couldn't hear him over the roaring pain in your ears. Drew was screaming about something, but it wasn't until you were being moved around that anything started to make any sense to you. Drew was no longer anywhere near you, but you could see some of the guys trying to calm him down. A few of your peers were checking in on you, but it was obvious that you were far from okay.

You had been rushed off to the hospital for an emergency surgery on your knee. Your roommate had picked you up from the hospital, where Drew had decided not to visit you. You tried to tell yourself that the guy was just going through some of his own baggage because he had hurt you. It wasn't easy, but eventually you stopped being so angry with Drew. You watched your replacement for your match go on to win the tag titles with your partner, which was when that anger reared its ugly head again. You were jealous of the new NXT Women's Tag Team Champions, you were angry at Drew, and you were mad at yourself for thinking that anybody actually cared about you.

"Y/n, it's good to see you," Ivy Nile greeted you. It had been nine and a half long months of recovery, but you had finally gotten back into ring shape. You didn't see yourself as the same as anybody else backstage though. You were starting to understand people like Zoey Stark a little better, someone who you had once denounced as being too angry and aggressive. You wanted to hurt the people who had left you behind when you got hurt, but you had no idea where to start.

"For now," you muttered under your breath as you moved past her. Ivy was definitely a little more than confused by your behavior. She hadn't come to visit you when you had been away though, nobody had. That was why you weren't working with anybody anymore. You'd take the NXT Women's Championship for yourself, and then maybe find a loyal subject to help you claim the title that you had originally been gunning for.

"Y/n, hey, I didn't know if it was true or not. I've missed you so much," Drew said as he ran up to hug you. You pushed yourself away from him immediately. Drew looked confused, as if he hadn't just ignored you in the time when you needed him the most. "What's wrong?"

"You'll find out in time with everybody else," you told him.

"Um, okay..." Drew watched you walk off. Shawn let you open the show with your statement, which you knew would rock the whole NXT roster, both male and female. Everybody would need to watch their backs because you knew that you'd be bringing in a new age of aggression. There were others who had the same thing inside of them, but they needed a leader, someone to let them know they could get away with their actions if their numbers were big enough.

"NXT Universe, it has been a very long time. Did you miss me?" you asked as you leaned against the ropes. They cheered and cheered, like the idiots that they were. "Of course you did. I mean, even my peers missed me. It's crazy, every single person who spoke to me on my way out here told me that they missed me. They went on and on about how good it was to finally see me again, but do you know what doesn't make sense to me? They could have come and seen me, they could have checked in on me, but not a single one of them did. Not my tag partner, not even my boyfriend. I was at my lowest point, my most vulnerable, and they all left me to sit by myself all day and count the seconds tick by. Do you know what that does to a person? I'll tell you what it does, it creates monsters. And I'm a monster that nobody is ready for, absolutely nobody."

[tinyghostotus]

There's a lot of thoughts I'm having about the new episode so I'm just going to throw them all down here!!

Willow and Gus first meeting was so adorable. They care for each other so much,,,

I'm also glad we got to see Amity and Willow work on their relationship. There's a lot of work to be done on their side and I'm glad the show is showing it instead of ignoring that

Gus continues to be strong!! I'm just curious if he'll eventually start to learn how to control that magic more. Willow seems to have some control so maybe Gus will start to learn, too?? Because that illusion spell could be pretty handy in future battles

Hunter was caught trying to learn what a Grimwalker is via books at Hexside. If they're something in books, perhaps someone like Lilith has information on them?? And we'll learn through her???

Belos wanting Hunter back is making me question if Belos wants to kill him or, because of how much of a hassle replacing right now will be, if Belos plans on using that tea Terra makes on him...

We got to see more photos!! By looking at them, I believe we can confirm Willow is 15 now (Dana said she was 14 before S2 aired). I mean, it makes sense; she was seen blowing out a candle, Dana said she wanted some birthdays (or at least Luz's) in the show if we had a full S3, and Skara - one of the kids in Willow's class - turned 15 in S1. So I'm guessing Willow turned 15 off screen in S2A

The one that currently has me confused is the one with Mattholomule. He's wearing a party hat but Gus isn't... Was it Matt's birthday? Gus'?? Somebody else's???

That little earring Gus picked up is going to have a big part in a future episode (that's obvious to me). But will Gus repeat the illusion spell again but when he has more control?? Because that'll be interesting!! Though I don't know how well it'll work on Belos because of the whole omnipresent thing

My love for Bump continues to bloom

It's nice to see Hunter learning to open up more!! I fear that the Belos stuff is foreshadowing stuff for the future

The fact that Matt decided to also join illusions track-

Gus has changed his life and views on that type of magic so much. Its adorable,,,

Willow mentioned going to The Owl House at some point to see coven guards... I wonder if those guards will end up staying there in case the inhabitants attempt to return??

If that's the case, is Hooty going to be okay?? He kind of, you know, rips himself apart to go on adventures. How long can his body stay good when torn into two??

I can't remember the scout's name but the Tiny Cat Coven one,,,, I love,,,,,

Also glad that the Illusion Coven Head is on Belos' side. Idk why but the idea of the heads being split between loyal and disloyal to Belos sounds great. Could also mean more heads fighting each other in the future

I do want to know who is on what side, though. And are there some who are just neutral on it?? Like they know what Belos is doing is bad but they also just don't care??

If eyes glow to show that a witch is using strong magic, what does that mean about the witches we saw in Belos' memories?? The sigils made their eyes glow... Did something force too much magic into them and that made them like that?? Like their bodies weren't ready for a sudden overflow of so much power that they just shut down??

My only issue with this episode is that we still don't have a name for Gus' palisman. What is that little guy called??? I need to know..........

I like how Hunter instantly knew that that Willow was a fake because the real Willow wouldn't be afraid of him

Which he's right!! Look at all of the times Willow dragged him into the ground. She fears no soul

Thinking back to Hunting Palismen... Do you think the kids could have used temporary tattoos?? The Emperor's Coven thought Hunter was wearing one while, as far as we know, it seems to be real. Because of that, do you think the kids could get away with temporary tattoos??

Seeing how kids fought in that episode is making me hope we'll see them all fight together again. Hopefully with Luz involved!!

Also Gus using glyphs again in this episode-

I think Willow is the only one who hasn't used them yet?? Wonder if she'll ever use them at some point. Especially since we've seen that plant magic and ice appears to work well together

Ngl I kind of hoped that the abomintron would have done more?? They're supposed to be weapons and it took Luz and Amity so long to take one down before...

Unless a bunch of teenagers was too much for just one of them

But it is nice to see why Belos bought them in the first place. We know he's just using them to force witches to do what he wants

That and his men keep quitting and joining other covens again

I wonder if the Hexside kids and staff we saw in this episode are going to have a bigger role again later. Is Bump going to relive his youth and burn some Emperor's Coven related down this time around?? He already destroyed a school after all!!

If the scout who quit threw off the mask thing... Does that mean Steve is still in the Emperor's Coven when we see him again?? Or does he just really like that mask??

I honestly wonder where those like Eda are. We've learnt that Hunter ran away and decided to hide at Hexside but he never mentioned coming across them. I feel like going to Gwen and Dell would be a bad idea (family is probably the second place the EC will look) so... Where exactly are they??

Are they currently hiding in the BATTs' old hide out?? Or somewhere else??

[kamil-a]

Okay, what IS HNKA and how do I play it actually, anybody who's read Umineko going "it's so Umineko" will automatically pique my interest because that's damn high praise

JHFJFJFJH nice

heart no kuni no alice is a dating sim loosely based on alice in wonderland! the first game has a fanmade translation and can be found here !

the actual plot of this game is essentially "going to a bunch of people's houses and then going to a party and then either going home or not going home", which tells you that the characters and worldbuilding absolutely shine because how else is it gonna hook you lmao. hnkna is about grief and repression and regressing to a better time, about games and why we as people play them, about choosing what sadness you can bear, because the places you escape to often have their own problems. it takes place on an endlessly war-torn gameboard (sound familiar?), where the people have achieved immortality by just moving the goalposts- if we call our jobs and bodies 'people', and consider your individual soul as just the replacable guy powering the mascot suit, then someone like "the queen" can never die no matter how many individual holders of the queen role are killed. we fix up the body and attatch a new soul and there we go!

unfortunately i absolutely must give some content warnings here- things on the spectrum of dubcon-to-assault etc played as romantic shows up very often as per a lot of works in romance genre (including a scene very early on of alice being forcibly kissed/fed something). there is a route option of dating twin children, which you are under no obligation to take but is a part of the game. alice's memories (as a plot feature) are often incomplete/unreliable/contradictory, but its a recurring plot point that she likely was in a relationship with a teacher of hers when she was younger- this is regarded as something that traumatized her really bad, but because "he broke her heart" and not the obvious thing. (though on this point, it IS from her point of view, so we're stuck with her very very biased takes).

also warning that theres a character who frequently gets sick/throws up onscreen. also, while there are some very sweet/positive/healthy moments, a good deal of the relationships alice can form arent particularly healthy- this is very much a "hee hee toxic relationship interesting, i know the flags are red but red's my fave color so what it do baby >:3" kind of game lol. im very tired right now so i might be missing things but thats what i can think of right now.

anyway if you like when they cry you probably understand the "some stuff is uncomfortable in a powerful emotional way, some stuff is uncomfortable in a NASTY!! PLS ACT LIKE HUMAN!! way, but overall it is a game that reaches peoples hearts" emotion.

[jdmainman123]

Okay guys time to brag if I came back from Dallas and and Kansas and then Phoenix if I went to Orlando I could replace everybody in Fort Lauderdale Miami Florida 3/4 the knockoff site the percent site for it to be an accident where the landlocked sits were Las Vegas it's around here and not you blacks on that beach I promise you

The demographics and geographics lined up for me for you guys to have not have any cities in snow not 97% of them are 97 cities of snow

If if I if I didn't want to go home and listen to the integrate continue to bother me I guarantee with this kind of firepower Phoenix and Dallas and Kansas I could have every one of you replaced and have someone else sitting there yelling at me within weeks

BUT BECAUSE WE'RE OUT OF NORTH CAROLINA CHARLOTTESVILLE ANOTHER RELAY IN THAT SAME AIRPORT IT PROBABLY LANDS IN AT AIRPORT AND GOES EAST OR LANDS IN AN AIRPORT AND GOES NORTH AND GOES WEST ONLY 2 HOURS IS THE FLIGHTS and listen I understand your satellite maker timeline if you know what it took me for me to get you here but let me remind you you keep on telling me what another man says another one another man is saying

And that's just hearsay it's an action Dent for me AND THE GREAT THING IS NO ONE ELSE HEARS IT OR SEES IT THEY CAN'T SEE THE PICTURE THEY DON'T KNOW THE THE STATEMENT and this is why I'm getting rid of my phone because the p*** tape it's kind of weird and Mississippi Jackson did you a favor Todd remember nothing was ever done for me they put you in a Fake Miami Florida 3/4 Beach AND EVERY TIME I JERKED OFF FROM THAT PORTABLE BATHROOM I INSISTED IT WAS BLACK HAIR WHITES ON BUT THEY SAID AND I'M GOING TO GIVE YOU YOUR CREDIT

They said yachtfish Jason did not know a skinny pornstar and they kept continuing to call the black hair white skin boy Todd and I continue to State its black hair white son REMEMBER WE WEREN'T ALLOWED TO SEE SEXY MEN OUTSIDE WELL TURNS OUT OR SKINNY MAN OUTSIDE IT'S KIND OF WEIRD how you would allow me to see all these skinny black skin boys that couldn't hold their poop in not 6 pack real black men not 12 black real black men

AND WE FOUND OUT TODD WAS THE PORNSTAR THE SKINNY PORNSTAR and for you guys to force me to watch the same tape of a satellite operator and out of satellite maker let me remind you xHamster it's the only website you guys have in the cities porn hub didn't work XNXX DIDN'T WORK

But more importantly it's the same tape and it's really scary every time I was watching p*** because you guys made me extra drunk and it made me bleed LAX 3/4 has a very specific message to you men for them to leave a statement backed up by New York for them to leave a statement backed up by Newark and insurance policy I call it perfect timing

But their statement was you guys forced me to bleed and sweat and I could I needed p*** to get it up so every time I was in a portable bathroom Todd THE CITY OF 34TH WAS SAYING EVERY MAN'S FACE I LOOKED AT THEY WERE SAYING TODD WHICH WAS KIND OF WEIRD BECAUSE IT LOOKED A LOT LIKE BLACK HAIR WHITE SON and I said what am I doing here playing black hair white son Todd has it under control a skinny because he was skinny as why they brought Todd out

Did you guys notice that new guy on p*** the black hair white skin boys about 4 ft but he's always banging m****HE LOOKS NOTHING LIKE TODD HE LOOKS LIKE RANDY TO ME

I don't know and an angel came to me and said some black hair white skin boy in p*** is trying to steal Todd's throne and I said no Todd's just pretending to be a skinny man

SO BOTTOM LINE THEY BROUGHT OUT TODD BECAUSE THEY DIDN'T WANT ME TO SEE SKINNY MEN and and I get it all the white skin satellite operators when you look at them they look like a stick they look like a twig and and I know it was the family made against my drink money they were pretty angry

About but it was very obvious they didn't have any drink money and they were very ugly you guys knew I knew that remember I told you to briefing on the church girls I know exactly who my audience was so I tried to be cool and say a lot of like mean things and nasty things but it backfired on me and they started creating black hate and forced me to talk about the little black skin boys

IN ALL HONESTY TODD YOU LOOK IDENTICAL TO A BLACK HAIR WHITE SKIN JASON I called it

[sergiovinazzi]

Stolen - Lando Norris x Reader (Chapter Two)

2.9k words, rated E for everyone :)

Lando’s voice, amplified by the TV speakers, echoes around the humming Red Bull garage. “I’m fine but I’ve been better. I can say that I’m not in perfect condition, I’m not gonna lie. Some work to do mentally of course. I talk about that a lot, and mental health and mental strength is very important. I’ve not been sleeping that great and so on… not ideal and I’m feeling a bit sore, but I’m not the guy in the worst position after Wembley. I’ll work on it, I’ll make sure I’m in the best shape possible, and I feel like I can still go out and focus on what I need to do, and that’s the main thing.”

Your mind races as you listen to the boy plastered across the many screens revisit his experience at Wembley. He sounds awful; something about his cadence making it even more obvious that he is really, truly shaken up. The wavering pitch, awkward pausing, fumbling for words; everything about the way he presents himself is serving as a brutal reminder that being physically unscathed is no indicator that harm was not dealt. Even as the interview moves past the topic of last week’s Euro Final, you notice the shift in demeanor and your heart aches. You worry that bringing the watch to him is a bad idea, that it could prompt unbidden memories and disquieting feelings. You understand how big of an event Silverstone is from your dad’s tangents alone, especially for an English team with an English driver, so you reevaluate whether your decision to come was selfish, one made solely to alleviate your own sentiments of guilt rather than to verily right your believed wrongdoings.

On the journey to Silverstone, your dad had made multiple attempts at lessening your stress, even opting for variations of the if he steps out of line I will put him right back in his place father speech. Unfortunately fruitless, your father’s attempts mean you remain just as anxious as when you had first discovered that you managed to obtain a stolen wristwatch.

You’re not sure whether it’s the crisp morning air or your nerves that sends chills across your flesh, but your attempt to ground yourself subtly doesn’t go unnoticed by your dad as he passes you in the garage.

“Time is ticking,” he informs you, a smirk playing on his lips. “No pun intended.”

You roll your eyes in an attempt to downplay your apprehension, but your voice gives away any and all signs of the false confidence you hope to portray. “Can you do it for me?” you plead.

“I can’t just stroll on over to the McLaren garage without an invitation or proper reason, especially not a couple hours before free practice starts. It doesn’t look good.”

“It’s not like me walking in there instead would look any better,” you retort, gesturing to the Red Bull logo plastered across the chest of your black polo. “Your branding isn’t what I would call subtle.”

“Look, the McLaren team are a good sort. They’ll help you out if you just explain the issue and show them the watch. I’m sure Lando will understand too, he seems like a pretty nice bloke,” your dad reassures you.

Sighing, your eyes meet the floor, fingers intertwined with each other as you fidget incessantly. Before you can speak up in further defiance, however, an additional set of footsteps grow nearer and you freeze at the voice which speaks up.

“Christian, how much longer until our media slot?”

You lose your breath momentarily, locking your gaze onto your shoes as you wait for the person to pass by.

“About five minutes, Max,” your dad replies. “We were just about to head over.”

When you hear the footsteps grow fainter, you risk looking up, thankfully being met with only the observance of your father. You don’t even realize that you’ve tensed your body until your dad points it out.

“Relax,” he says. “He’s not going to say anything here, especially not on a race weekend.”

Nodding, you feel your shoulders ease up but you remain quiet.

“Anyways, like I said, our media briefing and interviews start soon and we’re after McLaren this weekend so they should already be back in their garage,” he says, realizing that you still appear troubled by the task ahead of you. “I promise you, everything will be fine. Just go over there and I’ll meet you back here when we’re done. The quicker you head over, the quicker you’re done with it and we can all move on." With that, your dad walks away and you reluctantly leave the Red Bull garage, adjusting your shirt as you straighten up.

You take a brief glance at your phone, turning it off after you try one last time to keep the picture of the boy imprinted in your mind. Eyes darting rapidly, you attempt to scan the paddock for anyone looking remotely like him while you make your way towards the bright orange and blue indicators of the McLaren garage.

The frequency of orange-clad individuals grows the further you stray from the safety of Red Bull’s garage, and you feel your heartbeat begin to increase. Worried that someone would stop you before you could approach the one person you had traveled all the way to Silverstone for in the first place, you quicken your pace.

You’re mere meters away when you spot him. Pushing past a few people while trying to keep your eyes trained on him, you watch as he turns around to talk briefly with the woman next to him.

Huffing, you muster up the little confidence you have and tap him on the shoulder.

His confusion is evident and the blonde woman next to him does not look pleased to have been interrupted. The silence is palpable as they stare at you, expecting an explanation for the abrupt ending of their conversation.

“Hi,” is all you can deliver. You’re at a loss for words while the woman next to him seems to lose what little patience she has with you. Everything you had rehearsed beforehand, gone. Your mind is foggy and your mouth feels dry as you try to compose yourself. “Um, can I talk to you for a second? It won’t be long, I promise.” Your voice breaks at the end and you wish you had never agreed to get on that stupid red-eye to Silverstone in the first place.

Lando offers a look of sympathy and then turns to the woman next to him. “Charlotte, could you just give us a second?”

Pursing her lips and turning on her heel, the woman walks away, heading towards the mouth of the McLaren garage. She’s far enough away that you’re out of earshot, but close enough that you feel her gaze linger as Lando turns back to face you.

“Hey, don’t worry,” he tells you with a smile. “We can take a picture if you want or I can sign some stuff for you.”

“What? No.” You shake your head, mentally slapping your palm against your forehead and forcing yourself to get a grip. Idiot. “Fuck, sorry, that sounded so rude! It’s just-” you rush to explain.

“Oh no, it’s okay!” he stammers. “I should’ve guessed from the Red Bull shirt anway.”

You both share an awkward laugh before you compose yourself and reach a shaky hand into your bag.

“This is going to sound so weird, but I was online shopping for a new watch the other day because I lost mine, and I’m pretty sure I bought the one that was stolen from you. I didn’t know anything about it, I swear. I just...well, here,” you say, offering the watch and its temporary box to Lando.

He looks at you, taking the box only to go wide-eyed at the contents inside.

“I have all the information that I was able to get, but the ad was taken off of eBay and I really wanted to do the right thing and give it back to you. Please don’t be mad.”

“What the hell?!” he exclaims, earning a few looks from people passing by and catching Charlotte’s attention once more. “Sorry, sorry. How did you get this?”

Amused, you laugh quietly while he studies the watch intently. “That was my dad’s reaction too. Basically there was a listing for it on eBay and it was sort of an impulse buy,” you explain. “I didn’t see the news coverage of what happened until afterwards and I felt awful. I’m really sorry you had to go through that, I genuinely had no idea.”

Shrugging, he plays it off. “Nothing I can’t handle.” It’s hard to miss his sudden change in attitude from the interview you watched moments ago and you can’t help but wonder whether he has your or the watch’s presence to thank.

There is a brief moment of silence between you both before he continues. “How much did you pay for it?”

“It was so cheap, honestly,” you say. “Nothing compared to the original price, I’m sure.”

Charlotte, alerted by Lando’s attention-grabbing reaction to being reunited by his watch, returns to where the two of you are standing. “Oh wow, did you find a replacement watch for him?” she asks you, clearly impressed by the apparent likeness.

“No, Charlotte”, he corrects her. “It’s my one. Look.” He hands the watch to his PR manager, who receives it so gently you think she’s afraid it might shatter in her hands. Flipping the watch between her fingers, she studies the small engraving on the underside of the face.

“Oh my god,” she whispers.

Lando nods. “It’s the exact date it was given to me, there’s no way anyone else could know that and make a copy of it.”

You feel the need to justify yourself to her. “It was listed online and I bought it before I knew anything about the situation. I didn’t even really know who Lando was until I saw what happened on the news, I swear.” You anticipate her anger or disapproval, preparing yourself to withstand the lecture you’re about to receive and mentally promising that, as soon as it’s over, you can run back to your dad and tell him you just want to go home.

But it doesn’t come.

“I can’t believe it!” she exclaims. “We all thought we’d never see it again and you found it on accident.” The smile she gives you sets your mind at ease. “Technically, this is a police matter now, so I’ll have to hand it over to the right people, but this helps us tremendously. Did you get any information about the seller?”

You explain the situation to her, about how the listing was taken offline but you have a printout of the messages and address the seller gave you, which you hand her from your bag. She lets you know that someone may get in touch soon to ask questions but not to worry, that it’s only a formality. Eventually, she asks if you’d like to watch free practice from a spot in the mobile hospitality unit, but you politely decline, explaining that you needed to get back to your dad in the Red Bull garage instead.

Charlotte smiles fondly at Lando and presses the brim of his cap down over his eyes. “Come on, you, we have to go and get ready now anyway.”

He takes off his hat, cheeks flushing as he makes an effort to quickly brush the curls lining his forehead, placing it back on and dismissing Charlotte with a wave of his hand. “Okay, just give me a minute.”

Once the two of you are alone, he pulls out his phone. “Do you have Venmo? I’ll pay you back, it’s not fair that you had to waste your money.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it.”

Lando seems unconvinced. “It’s really not a problem.”

“Seriously, it’s all good.”

“Well,” he continues awkwardly. “I have to go, but are you here for the whole weekend or...?”

You shake your head. “Just today. I’m not into Formula 1, I find it a little bit boring.”

“Seriously?! The fastest cars in the world and you’re calling it boring? Why even come to something like Silverstone if it’s so boring?” he feigns offense, doing air quotes as he imitates your apparent disdain for the sport.

Laughing quietly, you shrug. “I have family at Red Bull, so it was basically just luck and convenience that you were in the U.K. this weekend,” you clarify. “I don’t really understand Formula 1, that’s all.”

“Fair enough, it’s not for everyone I suppose,” Lando replies. “So who in your family works at Red–” The end of his question is drowned out by the sound of his name called by an evidently disgruntled, impatient engineer.

He sighs. “I’m sorry, I’ve really gotta go, but, um,” he exhales with a nervous laugh. “I still feel like I need to repay you in some way. Do you want to go get a drink after the race on Sunday? I’m busy for the next few days but Sunday night I’ll be free. Only if you want to, of course, I don’t want to, like, pressure you or anything.”

You laugh, appreciative that the nervousness was shared. “That– Yeah, that sounds fine. I’ll give you my number.”

He types your details into his phone before apologizing once more, thanking you again, and rushing off into the garage.

——

On Sunday, you let your dad believe he’s the one who convinced you to stay for the entire race weekend, but it’s the promise of Lando’s company later that night and the endearing text messages on your phone that prompts the desire to see this weekend through. You had spent the previous nights on your phone, going through driver and team Instagram accounts, as well as the F1 website, to get an idea of what to expect. Typically, it would pain you to look through motorsport news pages, especially with so many of the reports centering around Max and his vie for the championship as of late, but you manage.

You notice almost immediately while settling into your spot at the back of the garage that the energy does not match your own. You are enthusiastic and eager, while the rest of the team is stressed and rushes around you. Presumably, it’s because race day impacts their livelihoods and paycheks whereas it only dictates your family’s dinner topics, but, nevertheless, your excitement refuses to simmer.

Unfortunately, if it was weird for you to be seen at the McLaren garage before the first free practice, it would be infinitely more suspicious for you to be lingering around on race day, so you were not able to catch Lando at all since your initial meeting on Friday. However, you made sure to message him good luck beforehand, to which he thanked you and expressed excitement for your upcoming night.

“If you need anything, just ask. I’ll be on the pitwall,” your dad says, snapping you out of your whirring mind. He notices your obscure behavior, quick to comment on it. “Is it weird? Being here after so long?”

You nod, shrugging. “Unusual, for sure. So much has changed since the last time I came and watched, but I’m excited, though.”

“Well, it’s always good to have you here.”

Reciprocating your dad’s grin, you silently send him on his way. He exits quickly and leaves you to your own devices. Though, your own devices look to consist of impatiently waiting for the race to start and scrolling absentmindedly through your phone. Ironically, your boredom with pre-race antics appears to create quite the dichotomy against the chaos exuding from the garage you find yourself encompassed in.

Regardless, your attention is regained when frequent cuts are made to the drivers in their cars, and you recognise that the race will be starting soon. You are temporarily startled when the cars begin moving without hearing an official announcement, but quickly realisee that it is merely a formation lap and no one else around you seems to be paying all too much mind to it.

When the cars return to their positions on the grid, you watch eagerly as the lights flash and the announcers begin yelling. You keep your eyes trained on the orange car towards the front of the grid, watching Lando so intently that you almost miss what happens to the cars in front of him.

Your eyes go wide as you watch the events unfold: the Red Bull car out front collides with what you identify as a Mercedes, spinning and slamming into the barrier. Gasps chorus across the garage as the screens replay slowed clips of the crash as an announcement states that the safety car has been deployed. They replay it from every conceivable angle, your astonishment at the severity is present upon your first viewing, but it’s only after the sixth clip that it clicks in your head that the person in the car is Max.

“For the second time this season, Hamilton and Verstappen clash and tangle on the opening lap, but, this time, it is ending in dramatic consequences for the championship leader.”

If you had perceived the pre-race behavior in the garage as chaotic, this was a whole new level of absurdity.

People rush around you while orders are shouted and frustrations are verbalised.

Your dad is angry.

The last time you recall him behaving like this was when your younger sister had broken the wine glasses he had bought for your mother on their honeymoon. You, however, ignore his yelling and remain encapsulated by the TV, releasing a breath you didn’t know you were holding as the events unfolding finally, finally register in your brain.

Car number 33 is in the wall and out of the race, and your ex-boyfriend is inside, silent and unmoving.

____________

tag list @lovebynorth @its-astrotea-love

[thestarrynightslover]

He has a thing for the mice

Pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader

Word count: 2,514

Warnings: Slight angst.

Summary: (y/n) works as a tech consultant at Intelligence and, even though the team guarantees her that she is one of them, Jay doesn’t seem to agree with that.

Disclaimer: I don’t own any of the One Chicago shows, or its characters, also not associated with it in any way or know anyone involved with it.

A/N: So… I finally managed to finish a WIP!! But I do have faith that it will be better from now on. Thanks for all the mind-blowing support, and feedback is appreciated, as usual! 💕

(y/n) = (your name) (y/l/n) = (your last name) (y/n/n) = (your nickname)

| masterlist |

It had been six months since you first started working with the Intelligence Unit 𑁋 in the CPD 𑁋, as a tech consultant. At first, it was obvious that you weren’t very welcome there. All the officers just kept side-eyeing you all day long. Every single day. It was like they were expecting some big betrayal from you at any given moment and simply couldn’t risk sleeping with one eye open.

As time passed, though, they started warming up to you. And you, to them. You began to understand that, them being such a tight group, they had a hard time trusting outsiders. Also, that they’d already lost a handful of team members, for one reason or another, so it was plausible that they wouldn’t wanna get attached to someone new right away. And, you’d learnt that the last person who had that job, long before you even considered moving to Chicago, was detective Halstead’s best friend, who had gone back to risking his life for the army overseas.

That’s also how you accepted that, if he was ever going to warm up to you 𑁋 like the others had 𑁋, he’d do it on his own time. No point in pressuring him. Even though sometimes you really wanted to do so, you wanted him to like you. But not just because you two worked together and that would make for a good environment. You wanted him to like you because he was so kind. Caring. Funny. Smart. Cute. And you wanted that kind of guy to like you the same way you were realizing you liked him.

But, if you were being reasonable, it wasn’t about to happen any time soon. Nor should it happen, really. Over that half-year that had passed, you’d also learnt that that job was actually pretty cool. You were using your abilities for something truly good, for once. So, if Jay Halstead ever came to like you the same way you liked him… Whatever the two of you decided to do with that information could really jeopardize your spot there.

Not that you were a cop, you knew you weren’t. But, on your very first day, the sergeant had made it pretty clear that his rules, all of them, applied to you just as much as they did to everyone else.

What started to threaten that certainty you had was the way the detective talked to you on that morning: “Hey, uh, (y/n),” he started saying while walking over to your desk, “could you try and see if you can get any hidden information on our suspect? You know, that little magic you work out?” Jay finished his question with an amused look on his face: raised brows, twinkling eyes, a small smile on his lips. As cute as he looked, that whole behavior made you very confused. Was Jay Halstead really being friendly with you? That mere possibility was enough to send your mind into a spiral of thoughts, which made the detective start calling out for you. “(y/n)?” He questioned, already panicking a little, afraid that you were ignoring him on purpose. Of course, that didn’t make any sense but he always got super nervous when you were around, which was why he tried to keep you at a safe distance. “(y/n)?”

“Oh my God, I’m sorry!” You couldn’t believe yourself at that moment. What were you? A teenager? “I’m so so sorry, detective! I just, uh… Got a little distracted. Could y- you repeat?” You weren’t looking in a mirror then but you knew for a fact that you were blushing. Hard.

“Ah, no worries. And please, call me Jay.” He told you, making your heartbeat race even faster. “Uh, I asked you if you could get any hidden information on our suspect? You know, that stuff us, cops, usually let slide…”

“Ah, right! Yeah, yeah! Sure, thing, detec- Jay.” You said, making him chuckle a little bit. So cute. You motioned towards the other monitor, to do what you were asked, but suddenly stopped yourself as you felt eyes on you. “Can I, uh, help you with anything else?” You asked Jay, who was just standing there staring at you.

“Oh! No, no! Thanks!” He quickly answered, looking like he was trying to decide whether or not he should keep talking. "It's just that you, um, you reminded me of Mouse a little bit."

"Um… Is that your friend? The one who used to work here?" You shyly ask, not knowing if it was a good idea to pry like that.

"Yeah! That's right. So, I assume someone here has told you about him?"

"Yes, they mentioned a few things. Said he was great. Now I'm just… Trying to live up to the standard." You confessed, suddenly remembering that that was Jay's best friend you were talking about. So, in order to correct your previous statement, you started rambling and ended up only burying yourself deeper: "I mean, not live up as in replace him or anything. More like be as good as. For the team. You know because we need to-"

"Hey, hey," he called out, laughing and raising his hands in front of his chest. "Relax. It's okay. I understood what you were trying to say. Besides, as a replacement to Mouse, you’re not bad at all.” The detective finished his reassurance with a wink, leaving an astonished version of you behind.

It was only much later on that day that you decided to just shrug off any mixed signals you might’ve been exchanging with Jay. Adam and the ladies had made it clear that you were all invited for a mandatory night out at Molly’s. Which meant you and the group were going there straight from the district, you being absolutely determined to drink your feelings 𑁋 and your day, really 𑁋 away. So that’s what you did and, considering that you didn’t have too much alcohol resistance… It was safe to say that things started to get pretty blurry pretty fast. 

Before you could stop yourself, you were dancing and chatting with every guy that showed up in front of you and wasn’t a certain good-looking detective. All of which wasn’t going by unnoticed on Jay’s end. He could tell you were avoiding him, he just had no idea why. It seemed to him like you two could get along fine 𑁋 not that he didn’t want it to be more than just fine 𑁋, he wanted a lot more than that but, after all he’d been through, he simply wasn’t sure he should make a move. And now… He really wasn’t sure.

That was until he spotted you struggling with a guy that seemed to be getting a little too handsy for your comfort. It was beginning to cause a scene but most of the familiar crowd was either gone or too distracted to help you.

“Hey, do we have a problem here, buddy?” You jumped a little as you felt Jay’s warm hand in the small of your back. He had a smug smirk on his face and his voice was filled with condescendence as he eyed up the guy you’d been trying to get rid of for the past minutes.

“Uh… Who the hell are you?”

“None of your business. Now, why don’t you just walk away from her, huh?”

“Well, I don’t see how this is any of your business.” The guy replied, maintaining his asshole stance.

“Well, the minute you started sexually harassing this woman you made it my business,” Jay said, lifting the side of his shirt just enough so that the dickhead could see his badge.

“Wow- relax, man! That’s not what was happening here! Besides she didn’t even accuse me of any-”

“Yeah? So, if you wanna keep it that way, I suggest you start walking away.” Hearing that, the guy just stood there, as if not believing the detective. “Now.” And that was the cue the idiot finally took to leave you alone.

“Thank you, Jay. Really.” You started saying after you turned to face him. “But you didn’t have to do that. I could’ve handled it.” You didn’t mean to sound rude or anything, it was just the truth.

“Oh, you could have? Because, from where I was standing, you were in trouble.”

“In trouble?” You ask him in disbelief. “I wasn’t in trouble. Just because I’m not a cop, doesn’t mean that I can’t defend myself, detective.” Hearing that, he seemed to realize what he’d just said.

“I- I’m sorry.” His eyes were so filled with worry at that moment that you couldn’t keep looking directly at him. But he just searched for your eyes until you gave in. “I’m sorry, (y/n). I really am. I didn’t mean that, I don’t think that. At all! I just-”

“You just wanted to help.” You finished his sentence whilst stifling a yawn with the back of your hand. “I get it, Jay. I do, don’t worry. I’m just really tired now. Think I’mma head home.”

“Right.” He muttered, still concerned about how you were leaving things with each other. “So, how about I take you home, hum?” He offered with a peace-making grin on his face, which you eyed suspiciously. “And all I’m really offering here is a cab paid for, I promise! Besides, I think I should get going too, so if we split… You know, at this time o' night, it's cheaper and safer. For both of us.” You were so tired at the moment that there didn’t seem to be any energy left in your body for bickering over a stupid cab.  

"Okay, then, let's split the cab." You finally agree, making his smile grow even bigger. So you two make your way outside, where you get on the first available cab you can find. Jay, obviously, making you give the driver your address for the first stop. Which you weren’t so reluctant in agreeing with, to tell the truth. But you hadn’t imagined that, on the way to your apartment, you’d end up falling asleep with your head on the detective’s shoulder, him caressing your hair. 

After a few minutes in the car, you were completely knocked out, which made him take it upon himself to struggle with you and your purse to make sure you got safely carried inside your house. Being the smart, resourceful person he is, Jay manages to pay the driver, get you both inside and gently put you in bed. The only thing was that, at that point, he was so tired that, somehow, he ended up climbing in there and falling asleep by your side.

The next morning, when you wake up, you turn your back to meet Jay's gorgeous sleepy face and, thinking that you were just in a very good dream, you start kissing him, who responds by kissing you back. Until you realize that it is actually happening.

"Wait a second, are you real?" You ask him, already feeling the embarrassment reach your cheeks.

"Uh, yeah, I think so? I mean, last time I checked..." Hearing that, you can’t help but start to panic a little. Watching you looking down at your fully clothed bodies and just becoming more confused, Jay decided to explain: "Oh, no! Don't worry about it! Nothing happened between us, until now anyway..." Seeing your horrified face, he added: "I just brought you home but, since you fell asleep in the cab, I brought you inside. And I guess I must've been so beat that I ended up falling asleep here, too. But I should have found a way to go home, I'm sorry." He finished the story, shooting you an apologetic look.

"No, no, that's okay... You were helping me and it was super late. It was only fair that you'd stay here. I'm the one who's sorry about, um, kissing you. I guess... I just thought that I was still dreaming." The second the words leave your mouth, you regret it, as he just smirks at you, eyes twinkling.

"So, you dream about me a lot, do ya?"

"No, I don't. That is not what I said. That is not what I said at all."

"No?" He playfully asks you, who quickly gets out of the bed. "Okay, maybe not... But it was implied."

"No, it wasn't." You say, not missing how he was crawling on the bed, towards where you were standing up.

"It was so implied." He continued teasing, already out of the bed and walking in your direction.

"That's- that's not even a thing. So implied." You ramble a little, feeling your body press against your bedroom wall because of all your walking backwards to get away from him.

"You know what? That doesn't really matter. Because," he was so close to you, and you didn't have any more room for an escape. Was he always that hot? The answer was an emphatic yes and you knew it. You'd spent so much time thinking about what those strong arms could do to you... "It was clearly implied." And that's when he kisses you. Roughly. Sweetly. Passionately. All in once. How was that even possible? There was a reason why you didn't want him to kiss you, you knew there was. But how could you remember it, when all you could think was: oh my God, oh my God, oh my God?

"No, Jay-" You managed to breathe out, his mouth pressing hot, wet, kisses to your neck. "We can't do this." You said a bit more firmly, pushing him from you a little.

"Why not? Is it because we work together? If it is, you should know that a lot of people have done it before. Besides, you're not a cop. So our relationship wouldn't put each other's lives in any danger." You kept your eyes on the floor, as you couldn't bring yourself to look at him just yet. But, hearing him say that... 'Our relationship'... Made you smile and look up at him. "Just- just give me a chance, that's all I'm asking for. One chance to prove to you that, not only we can do this, but, also, that we should do this.

"Okay... One chance." He kisses you right on the spot, as soon as you say that. "Okay! That was not what I meant when I said I’d give you a chance!"

"Of course not! Besides, that's definitely not how I'm using my chance. I'll present my plan to conquer you tomorrow night, at eight o'clock."

"Oh, so you're already willing to decide things for me? Just like that?" His smile was beaming so brightly at the moment, that it could have blinded you.

"Yeah, just like that. Cause I know we’ll have plenty of time for you to be the boss of me." Jay states, not even giving you any time to giggle, as he starts kissing you again. Only pausing to say: "But, for now..." And you can't even pretend to want him to stop kissing you anymore.

[after-witch]

Sketch Memory [Yandere Overhaul x Reader]

Title: Sketch Memory [Yandere Overhaul x Reader]

Synopsis: Chisaki lets you indulge in your little hobbies. But he’s starting to suspect that you’re taking advantage of his “generosity.” 

For request: @hello-lucky-luka​ said: Remember that one ask about overhaul’s angel having a boyfriend? Can I request a scenario where she misses her boyfriend a lot that she draws pictures of him to the point where overhaul got his attention and get jealous?

Word count: 2700ish

You’re not lying, you reason. You’re not, technically speaking, hiding anything. Overhaul never asks to see your sketchbook. And he never said you couldn’t draw someone you know. So the fact that you have been drawing your boyfriend every day since your captor gifted you the hefty, nicely bound thick sketchbook is something you force yourself not to worry about. 

Sometimes you find yourself sketching just a bit of him--his hands holding onto his favorite coffee mug, the profile of his face, looking up, staring at a movie marquee on a date night.

Sometimes you draw his face in all its glory--smiling, frowning, annoyed. When you have lots of energy, lots of drive (which is not often, you feel so tired now, all the time; the lack of movement and weariness of captivity is getting to you) you draw an entire scene. Your favorite is the one you’re doing now, though to be fair, every new drawing is your favorite because it’s new. This one, you admit, is exceptionally special. You’ve drawn him sitting in the park, with a book in his lap.

The park, like everything else, is from memory. You wavered on where to put the tree behind the bench, because you can’t quite remember if it’s off-center or not, and whether or not it had a knot in the trunk towards the bottom or the middle. But it’s realistic, and that’s enough for now.

It’s your boyfriend that gives you the most pride in this piece. You’ve outdone yourself, you really have. He looks… alive. Weighty. Real. Real enough that you wish you’d done this in color and not just with your sketch pencils. Real enough that you close your eyes and imagine you’re in the park, that he’s sitting there with his book, engrossed in a story, so engrossed that he doesn’t see you coming. You stop in your tracks and admire his face, preserve the way he looks so focused, so far-away, to memory. You admire the way the breeze gently blows his hair, and a hand absentmindedly pushes his bangs (he needs a trim, or a style) away from his face before he flips a page.

Finally you can stand it no longer, and though you hate to break his concentration, you glide up to the bench and sit next to him. He jumps, but once he sees its you his body tension melts away and he slides closer until your thighs touch. “Good book?” You ask. He nods, then looks ahead. He looks concerned. Or focused. You’re not sure. “Are you okay?” He gives you a look of surprise, of worry, then a smile. “Of course. I just…” His hand fiddles in his pocket. There’s something there, something bulky and square. “Wanted to ask you something…” Your heart is hammering because you know what’s in his pocket and his hand is moving and he’s about to ask you and you’re smiling--

“Who did you draw?”

You’re not in the park--you’re not in the park--and your boyfriend is not here, and Overhaul is looming above you and he’s looking right at your sketchbook.

You slam the book closed and you know in the instant that you do that it was the wrong move. Defensive. Obvious. Shit, shit, shit shit.

You stare ahead and will yourself not to shake.

“I asked you a question, angel.”

“I…”

You don’t know where it comes from, but the courage to lie comes from somewhere, and you deliberately, slowly reopen your book to the exact page.

“Sorry,” you say, finally, looking up at him. You laugh, breathy and light. His face is impassive, as always. “You scared me. I was really focused, trying to, you know, think of what’s missing.” You pick up a pencil and fiddle with it, make a line here and there, useless things really, to make it look like you want to keep going.

“Mm.”

Your heart is beating so hard that it almost hurts.

“You didn’t answer my question. Who did you draw?” To anyone else, his tone might seem casual, neutral. Bored, even. But you know there’s something simmering underneath, the low threat of perceived bad behavior, the low threat of him sitting you down for “a talk,” or the distant promise returning to a particular small room and confinement. 

You force yourself to smile, nervously. No point in hiding the anxiety that he knows is there, after all. “Oh! It’s,” and in a split second the idea comes to you, genius--”just a character from that book I was reading the other day.” You set your book down and casually--you hope it looks casual--reach up to the shelves installed along the walls behind your desk to pluck the book out. “The one about the guy who came home from war and no one remembered him, so he starts a new life in a new town.”

You set the book back in place and glance up at Chisaki, who stares down at you. You’re about to blurt out something, anything, to fill the silence when he nods. It’s a tension-cutting nod, a nod that tells you you’re okay, you haven’t fucked up, he believes you and you can stop feeling like you’re going to throw up now.

“I’m glad you’re enjoying the book.”

He’s fine. You’re fine. It’s fine. For now, you think, for now. You want him to leave before he starts asking more questions.

“Kai?”

“Yes?” His eyes crinkle ever-so-slightly. A smile, you think, behind the mask. Maybe.

You smile in what you hope is a sheepish, not nervous, expression. “Could I take a nap today? I’m feeling kind of tired.”

He doesn’t answer right away, which makes your fingers curl on the hard back of your sketchbook. Does he know?

He reaches out with a gloved hand and there’s a split second of fear--you’re done for--before he simply brushes your cheek. One of his rare, yet increasingly common, touches.

“Of course you can. I’ll set a timer so you don’t sleep too long.”

He turns and leaves your room through he unassuming door that connects to his office and you mumble a quiet thank you as it shuts. He’ll know if you don’t nap--you swear he has cameras in the room, though he denied it when you asked--so you tuck your sketchbook into the drawer of the desk and decide to hop into bed. A nap might help you feel less anxious, anyway. Your captor doesn’t let you nap long enough to dream, so you’ll be spared a nightmare.

**

You wake, almost jerking up, to the sudden, loud beeping of Overhaul’s watch--which is strange, because he usually sits in his office while you nap and wakes you up in a condescendingly gentle manner.

You open your eyes and Chisaki is standing silently next to your bed.

“Um?” You rub your eyes, the gentle rest of the nap falling off you abruptly as you take in the unusual circumstances.

You sit up and oh.

He’d holding your sketchbook.

He’s flipping through your sketchbook.

And he’s really, really pissed off. The air suddenly feels heavy and there’s nothing of the cold staleness that usually permeates your mundane interactions with your captor, the awkwardness replaced instead with the gravity of your situation. For the first time in a long time, you remember who has you captive. You remember what he can do. He could hurt you. He might hurt you. Did you anger him enough to break down whatever barriers that have kept him from hurting you so far?

He flips another page and another and lets out a sarcastic hum of approval. You feel your heart beat faster at every sound.

“Is that his hand? Remarkable shading, but…”

He rips the page out and crumples it, tossing it into the large trashcan before flipping the page. “Ah,” he says, voice low and cruel. “Another one of his face.” He rips that one out with particular gusto but it doesn’t crumple--it explodes, pieces of paper flying into the air. Some of them land on you, in your hair, and you furiously bat at them and your heart hurts and you know you’re tearing up and you don’t care.

“Stop,” you say, weak. A whimper. “Stop it.” Fat tears roll down your cheeks and it’s hard to see.

“Don’t argue with me.” His tone is quick and curt, and you know there will be no mercy, no coddling. No soft hushes and shushes. Only coldness. “You’re already in enough trouble.”

At the word ‘trouble,’ you wrap your arms around your chest. Trouble, trouble, trouble. The word carries memories and connotations. Isolation. Anxiety. Boredom. Helplessness. All things you experience on a daily basis, amplified, rolling together in a thick ball that rests at the bottom of your stomach. You can’t go back in your punishment room.

“Look at me,” he says--and you do. You want to get out of trouble. If that’s possible.

Chisaki doesn’t glare at you, not precisely, but his eyes are stern and unforgiving. You wonder if he’s frowning behind the mask, but maybe it’s better not to know. Once he’s satisfied that you’re paying attention, he continues.

“You are going to get out of bed.  You are going to stand next to me. And then you’re going to rip out every drawing you’ve done of this… trash. And you will throw them away.”

You can feel the bitter, acrid taste of your lunch threatening to rise up to your throat.

“Please.” You’re whispering. You don’t have the strength to talk. “Please don’t make me do that.”

Somehow, you know--you know that if you rip up these pages, you’ll start to forget what your boyfriend looks like. The earliest drawings have the strongest features, the ones you flip to when you’re not sure about something. If those are gone, if every study you’ve done from memory is gone, you’ll forget. Just like you’ve forgotten the combination to your locker at work and the street your favorite bakery was on. You’ll forget, without the pages, without the reminders.

You know this. And Chisaki knows this, too. He always knows what you’re thinking, somehow, someway. If you could get a few steps ahead of him for once, keep yourself guarded, maybe he wouldn’t be able to effect you so much. 

“If you don’t want to destroy drawings of this garbage, I can always pay him a visit.” Your entire body goes rigid and you want to cry out and beg him--no no no--but nothing leaves your throat, thick and tight and trapped. Chisaki’s eyes practically glint as he continues. “It might be more satisfying to destroy the real thing, now that I think about it.”

Something in your throat loosens and you stand up, nearly tripping over your own feet.  You grab the book and he lets you, lets you hold it out in front of you like a burden. “I’ll do it,” you murmur, your body trembling. “I’ll do it, just… just don’t hurt him. Please. Please?” You look up and there’s no softness in his eyes, no agreeable smile that you sometimes see when he’s agreeing to give you a treat (because that is your life now, your captor agreeing to let you watch a movie is a special treat to be celebrated)--just passive coldness.

“Do what I told you, and we’ll see.”

It’s a start.

But now you have to do it.

Your drawings. Your work. Your memory of him. All pages and pencil and smudges and tears. Your entire body is trembling--you feel like the ground is moving, swaying beneath your feet. Your hands shake as you flip open to the nearest page.

An early sketch. One where your boyfriend’s face was so clear in your mind that if you had the skills to make photo realistic work, you might have been able to do it. You try to capture it to your memory but the second your hand moves, rips just a little, it seems to fly away. You pull harder and quickly wrinkle the paper in your hands before tossing it towards the trash bin.

You pause too long, apparently, because Chisaki speaks up.

“Keep going. I won’t tell you again.”

And you do. You tear out page after page, your tears flowing freely. You begin to feel numb, after a while, even as you rip out drawings that took you hours--drawings you poured your soul into, whatever is left of your soul after months and months of captivity.

One more to go.

Your hand gingerly touches the sketch that you’d been so proud of earlier. The last page. The last visual memory left--the only one not ripped apart or crumpled or shredded and nestled in your hair.

 You want to lose yourself in it again. You want to close your eyes and pretend you’re at the park and he’s about to propose and your life will be nothing but sweetness and planning for the future. But the air is too thick and Overhaul is staring and he can’t read your thoughts, but he’ll figure it out anyway.

So you rip the page out of the book and tear it in half, jagged and uneven, before throwing it into the garbage.

Your hand recoils from the ghost-like memory of the paper on your fingers and you press them against your chest, above your heart.

Your boyfriend has probably moved on by now. Maybe he’s months deep into a rebound relationship, finding himself brushing away tears at new firsts with another woman, a woman who can’t replace you but who will heal the wound you left in his heart. Who will heal your wounds?

Chisaki is staring at you, you realize, and you drop your hands. You don’t want him to think you’re fondly reminiscing. He could always change his mind about leaving your boyfriend--your ex? What do you call him? What does he call you, you wonder?--alone.

“We’re going to have a long talk about this later,” he says, voice leaving no room for argument. He pauses, and your chest feels tight. Will he tell you that you’re being sent to the quiet room? The thought of being there for days, alone, unable to do anything, barely able to move in the tight surroundings makes you shake and you dig your nails into your arm.

“You can stay in your room. You listened well.”

You swallow, throat tight, and nod. You almost want to smile. You don’t have to go back there, if you listen. You know how to listen, when it comes down to it.

Chisaki glances down at the trash bin and picks it up with his gloved hands, dragging it towards the door.

“One more thing,” he says, glancing back at you.

“Go wash your hands. They’re filthy.”

[aghostpost]

The Hard-J (Victor Creed x Reader)

A/N: I know I said it would be ready by the weekend but... it wasn’t! Excuses only work for those that make them, so I won’t bother lmao~ This one is for @queengiuliettafirstlady and everyone else that loves a little Victor Creed intensity. ♥

“Can we not do this today, please?”

“What the hell was that about?” He slammed the door after him as I went to my kitchen to put groceries away. 

“He saw me walking back from the store, that’s it.”

“That’s it, huh? What did I say about hangin’ out with him?”

“We weren’t hanging out! I told you, he saw me walking and he was helping me carry a few things. That. Is it.”

“You see how he talks to me? How he’s always talked to me-“

“-I see two brothers who, for whatever reason, can’t seem to hack it.”

“We aren’t brothers.”

I rolled my eyes, shoving my peanut butter and fudge swirl ice cream into the freezer. “Brothers in arms.”

“Because there’s no damn respect! Always lookin’ down at me like he’s some kinda fuckin’ superior.”

“Vic…”

“I don’t want you around him. You hear me?”

I let out an exasperated sigh as I rolled my eyes. “It’s too hot to argue about this shit.”

“You’re the one arguing instead of just agreeing, Y/N.”

“Your relationship with Logan is just that: yours. I have no problem with the guy.”

“If I see you two together again-“

“- Do not end that sentence with a threat, Victor-“

“- I’ll do you one better and end it with a guaran-fucking-tee!”

“We live in the same city, I’m bound to run into him sometimes!”

“Y/N look at me… Hey!” He shouted, making me jump out of my skin as I gave him my undivided attention. Clearly he was serious, which he tended to be. But this time, more serious than normal.

He was always so very dead serious whenever we talked about Logan.

“I don’t care if you’re next door neighbors with him. If I see you two with each other again, it will not end well.”

“For him? Or for me?”

“Both o’ you.”

I stared him down and watched him do the same, his face cold hard steel, not even a muscle flexing as he spoke to me. “What the hell happened between you two, anyway?” I asked. “What did he do that’s so damn bad you’re forbidding me to even say hi? He kill your cat or somethin’?”

He smirked and let out a huff of a chuckle, his left fang peeking from behind his lips. “You think I’m kiddin’?”

I rolled my eyes and pushed him away from me to continue putting the food away. “Yeah, sure. Whatever. I’ll stay away from him, Victor. Whatever the hell makes-” I couldn’t finish my sentence before I heard the loud crash of glass breaking. I whipped around and saw a wet puddle dripping on my wall, the floor beneath it decorated with broken glass and what was a very nice bouquet of assorted flowers. “Are you shitting me?!”

“Oh, I got your attention now?”

“You had it! You’re throwing a temper tantrum, breaking my shit, all because you’re jealous of someone I’m not even interested in?”

“Jealous?” he questioned as he slowly stalked towards me, like a predator carefully eyeing its prey. I was no stranger to Victor's temper; under the right circumstances, he could go from settled to up in flames with the snap of a finger. Maybe it’s because he was never really at ease, always ready to pounce at any moment’s notice if necessary. Yeah, I know he has little patience and is kinda trigger happy to get into a fight, his own source of entertainment. But that was with other people, strangers. With me, he exercised a lot more restraint. We’d have arguments, he’d yell, maybe hurt a wall and then storm off.

But whenever Logan was involved, it was a different story...

“You need to relax,” I warned as I slowly backed away from him, ready to defend myself if necessary, even if I knew it was a losing battle. 

“Did you just say I was jealous of him?”

“Are you?”

“What reason do I have to be jealous?”

“You tell me. What is it, Vic? You think I’m gonna run off with him into the sunset? You come over here one day to see me, all my shit is packed up and I leave a note behind? I doubt he’d throw my shit around like you just did.”

“I bought you those damn flowers,” he growled.

“You gonna buy the replacements too?” I asked playfully, trying to diffuse the tension but failing. It was painfully obvious, literally, he wasn’t in the mood to play when I felt his fist grip me like a boa constrictor. He forced my head against the kitchen cabinet behind me and got close to my face. If he moved any closer he’d be able to taste the chive cream cheese bagel I had on the way over here. 

“Now that all depends…”

“Victor, let go of me. Now.”

“What’s the matter, hm? I thought you liked it rough?” he spoke with a tone of warning before a lecherous grin spread across his face. I’d be lying if I said it didn’t release a flutter deep in my belly, my incessant desire for him threatening to surface. It was embarrassing and admittedly disgusting to me, how even in moments as such, there was always going to be some shred of me that could neither ignore nor deny my constant thirst for him to satisfy me in ways only Victor knew how.

“You’ve made your point.” I tried to remain calm while fighting for air. I was willing to bet money that he could feel my pulse quickening beneath his grip. If even one of his claws came out I’d be bleeding out all over the linoleum.

“Have I?”

“You have five seconds to get the fuck off of me... or I walk.” He stared me in the eye only a few seconds longer before relinquishing his grip. If there was anything I caught on to in the seven months we’ve been seeing each other, if that’s even what you wanna call him dropping by for food, sex and quality conversation with a solid night’s rest, it’s that he actually greatly enjoyed having me in his life. He would never admit it, of course, being the poster boy for hypermasculinity; no way he’d display the level of emotion required to confess he liked me. But I picked up on it in subtle ways he probably doesn’t even notice. The way he throws his arm over me in his sleep, subconsciously keeping me in place with him. The way he came over and pretended it was just for sex, when we wouldn’t wind up having sex at all. The flowers he bought me, before throwing them to the wall in a rage. Most importantly, the way he wouldn’t stay gone long after a fight and would come back with his tail tucked in ready to apologize, afraid that would be the fight that finally scared me off and into the arms of someone else. I wasn’t using that to my advantage here, but I was letting him know what we both knew but never spoke of:

He wanted me around. He liked me.

I took a moment to allow oxygen to return to my lungs before I addressed him. “I pushed a button o’ yours with that little J-word?”

“What on Earth gave you that idea?” he asked sarcastically.

I nodded. “Fine. Noted. But I promise you, next time you use your words, because if you ever think about putting your hands on me again-”

“-Now you’re ending sentences with threats?”

“Guarantees, right?” I stalked to the corner of the kitchen and grabbed the broom that was wedged between the wall and my fridge then slammed it into his chest. “Dust pan behind the fridge,” was all I said before making my way to the bedroom.

“We’re not done-”

“-I am.” The moment I turned the corner out of the kitchen he was following me, the broom loudly clapping against the kitchen floor. The same hand that was just wrapped tightly around my throat was now finding its way around my waist along with his other one, pressing me to the wall. “Victor-“

“-I’ll getcha new flowers.”

“Fuck the flowers and fuck you.” He wasn’t hearing any of it. He grabbed my wrists and began making his way to the couch, my legs clumsily bumping into any and everything I walked towards. 

“I’m not gonna pour my heart out an’ tell you all the fucked up things about me, if that’s what you’re waitin’ for me to do.”

“Mutant in human world. It’s not hard to figure out.”

“And I’m not tellin’ you the textbook of reasons I’m not holdin’ hands with him either.”

“And I’m not agreeing to stay away from him for your reasons and personal grudges unknown.”

“So maybe I didn’t make myself as clear as I thought.” Before I was aware the back of my legs bumped into the arm of my couch. I was desperate to create some sort of distance between us, so I fell backwards and wiggled away to the far opposite end of the couch. He stood at my feet and without breaking eye contact, lifted the loose black henley from his chest. He was possibly the only person I knew that could wear black and long sleeves in the peak of a summer in the city without breaking a sweat. But now wasn’t the time to be impressed by minor things.

“It’s too hot for this, too.”

“You tellin’ me no?”

“Yes!”

“Why?” he asked as he continued advancing in my direction, fumbling with the belt on his jeans as he kicked his shoes off.

“Because I don’t feel like it. You’re not about to makeup sex your way out of putting your hands on me, dick.”

He shrugged to himself. “You never turned it down before.”

“Well, you know what they say the definition of insanity is, right…”

“Doin’ the same shit, expecting different results.”

“And I want different results, Victor.”

“Fine. So let’s try somethin’ different.” Without a word or warning he bent down and scooped me up, a hand firmly resting under each of my thighs, my legs snaked around his waist. I thought he was headed towards the bedroom, but he took a surprising left turn to the apartment balcony, gripping me tightly before using a hand to open the sliding glass door. The humidity instantly smothered me, my glasses fogging from the shock of being exposed to the summer heat after leaving my air conditioned living room. He sat in one of the wicker seats of my patio set and placed me in his lap, lifting my sundress so I could straddle him free of obstruction. He placed me directly onto his cock and was not gentle about it; my head instantly fell back as a rush of air escaped my chest, my hands finding his neck. 

“Fuck,” I whispered.

“Exactly.”

“Shut the hell up.” There was no time for playful banter. The sun had only just started to set, meaning there was still plenty daylight for us to be seen; this had to be quick. And quiet. Quiet would be the hard part without a doubt. With his help, I lifted my body up and down, his fingertips digging into my hips as he held tightly to my waist. “Holy shit, Vic.”

“Still think I’m jealous?”

I grinned to myself. “I dunno; you’re fuckin’ me like you got somethin’ to prove,” I teased. Clearly there was jealousy but I knew better than to answer him with a yes. But if jealousy is this good a sexual motivator, I’d be happy with this silver lining to our fight. He lifted my dress up more, enough for him to expose my tits and seize my right one with his mouth. My head fell back, a cry escaping me when I felt the sharp stab of his teeth on the mound of flesh. “Fuck!” He growled, his mouth vibrating slightly around my nipple. 

“Ya still gonna run away and leave a note?” he asked, the heat from his mouth making toes curl.

“Never.” Unless he pushed me to it, of course. 

I felt the pads of his fingertips press my scalp, my hair tightly intertwined in his digits as he pulled my head back and forced me to make eye contact. “Don’t threaten to walk again.”

I rolled my eyes. “Or else?” I mocked.

He shook his head, his pelvis ceasing, the rapid rise and fall of our chests the only movement remaining between us. “No. Just don’t.”

I stared at him a moment longer and simply nodded before standing and turning around, lifting my dress over my head, then taking the rusty balcony rail in my hands to steady myself. I turned to look at him; to my surprise he was already stroking himself in the absence of something else warm wrapped around his cock. “Whatcha waitin’ for?”

“Can’t enjoy the view?”

“Enjoy it any longer and I’m gonna melt.”

“Someone other than me hungry for it?” he said with a hard slap to my right cheek before roughly re-entering from behind, making me jerk forward into the hot metal rail. I grunted at the pain in effort not to be too loud and settled comfortably on him, my body fitting him like a glove. He was in no way gentle as he thrust himself in and out of me, primal grunts escaping his chest every time his hips rammed into my ass. My tits would surely be bruised the way I was uncomfortably pressed into the railing. I stared at the rusted and flaking metal coating of the bars beneath my arms and fought to keep my legs from collapsing beneath me, every bone in my limbs turning to apple sauce, my muscles sore and aching. If only this kind of workout kept me in shape and was doctor recommended. And quiet as I was, there was nothing I could do to muffle the loud smack that echoed in the air when Victor got slap happy, or the sound that came from my mouth as a result. The funny thing was, the more I tried to shush him, the more intensely he fucked me, and the more sound we both ended up making. 

“Sss, holy fuck! Fuck fuck fuck, Vic! Shit!” I cried out, the restraint I had for my volume loosening. On a slower day I would have had a bit more self control, but I never lasted long, or quietly, when he was in a more animalistic mood.

“Mm, that’s right,” he grunted, digging his fingers into my hip bones. “Lemme have it, baby.” And before I knew it I did exactly that. My legs gave out beneath me and I fell to my knees, failing to hold myself up on the balcony railing any longer as I came. My moans were beyond stifling, and I felt nothing else, not even the pools of sweat pouring out of me. For just a moment I’d fallen into a deep well of ecstasy, my head throbbing from the mix of summer heat and pleasure, before I regained some composure to return the favor. 

I grabbed the thin cushion from my patio chair and placed it at his feet and knelt before him, taking him into my mouth as deep as I could. As hungrily as I could. Without hesitation his hands flew to my head, cradling the back of my skull and maneuvering me to a pace of his pleasure. “Atta girl,” he encouraged. He knew I was a sucker for praise, and after being a complete asshole I was expecting him to lay it on with the ass kissing for the rest of the evening. Now he had me working like I was the jealous one, when really I was only in competition with myself; I wanted to see if I could make him cum quicker than any of the other times I did this. I worked my head in a swivel and both of my hands in opposing twisting motion, pulling him into me as far as I could without biting off more than I could chew. It was useless, however, since Victor was determined to push my head down way past my limits. His hips undulated as he thrust his dick deeper and deeper into my throat. He’d momentarily pause and hold his place before pulling out to allow me to draw air, all before repeating the process. “Look at me,” he demanded, which was all he needed to say for me to know what time it was. I stared upwards at him with his cock still in my mouth, my eyes glassy with tears, and he pushed himself deep into my throat one final time and pumped the tip of his dick at the back of my throat. He held eye contact for as long as he could before his head fell backwards, eyes slamming shut as I felt the muscles of his thighs tighten. He grunted a low, beastlike growl before I felt him release all he had to offer in my throat, the sensation slightly tickling. I slowly jerked his dick off for good measure to ensure I got him for every drop before swallowing the thick, sticky fluid, swirling my tongue around his tip before he removed himself from my mouth. 

“Ah, Jesus fuck,” he sighed, his chest rising and falling as he tried to recover.

“I think I missed that Sunday school lesson.” He rolled his eyes and looked down at me, head still resting in his lap, before rising and extending a hand. I grabbed and he pulled me up, coming face to face with him and the wild grin plastered on his face. “Back inside before my ass gets covered in bug bites.”

“I could scratch it for ya,” he offered, running a claw harmlessly up my spine. I shivered and pushed away from him before round two threatened to begin, sliding the balcony door open, relieved once the ice cold air conditioning hit my chest.

“No thanks. But you absolutely can buy me another bouquet of flowers. And a vase, while you’re at it.”

[infinxty]

Another Spider

andrew!peter parker x fem!reader

!Spiderman No way home spoilers!

Just another usual day. Waking up, eating breakfast, putting on your suit, and then swinging around the city that never sleeps, also known as New York, searching for crime. You usually patrol on afternoons, because you're just an average seventeen year old teen, taking lessons and living with your aunt.

Average, except one thing: you were the famous Spider-Woman! Nobody knew you were the well-known webslinger of New York, not even your aunt, May. You could tell she was worried sick about you. Not everyone's kids dissapeared into thin air every afternoon.

Of course, you were at home as much as possible to help your aunt, but there were many bad guys out there. May was a very nice and happy person, but after uncle Ben's death she needed mental support, so you stayed at home with her more, and you quit being Spider-Woman. Everybody needs a little rest after all, even superheroes.

But you couldn't just sit at home while other people could be in danger, so you were back on the streets in less than a week, saving those who needed help.

Everything was fine, until one day your surroundings suddenly changed around you, causing you to fly into a brick wall. One moment you were swinging near the Empire State building, in another moment you were in a small alley.

You rubbed your head, then looked around, trying to find out what happened, but all you saw was the alley. Something didn't felt right. You could feel it with your spider-tingle. At least thats what May called it. You ran out to the streets, only to see you were still in New York, at the Times Square.

People were looking at you with confusion in their eyes. Oh, yeah, you were still in your hero costume. Suddenly, someone threw something at you. You picked up the thing from the ground. It was a paper ball. We believe Mysteryo. It had these words written on it. You were even more confused now. Some people started making videos and taking pictures of you. Many of them came closer and started shouting at you.

- WE BELIEVE MYSTERYO! - someone random from the crowd shouted.

- Why do you look more more feminine? - another person came.

- WHY ARE YOU HERE? AFTER ALL THE HATRED YOU GOT IN THE PAST WEEKS... WASN'T THAT ENOUGH FOR YOU?! - a man approached you. All of a time, a familiar face replaced the ads on one of the big screens on the side of a building. You tought J. Jonah Jameson stopped making videos, but it looked like you were wrong.

- Breaking news! Spider-menace terrorizes people at Times Square! - a live footage of you replaced the man. For you, it was the best to leave the scene. You shot out a web, and swung away from the crowd.

You sat down at the edge of a tall building, and took off your red mask. It was cold up there, and you were really hungry. I should get myself a jacket and some food, you tought. You took out your phone, pulled off its case, and counted how much money you had. You always kept a small amount of money in your phonecase. Luckily, it was enough for a jacket and food. You put on your mask, and entered the nearest thrift shop.

You chose a greenish-brown jacket, gave the cashier the money, and before she could say anything you left.

- You can keep the charge! - you said as you closed the door. You put on your jacket and pulled off your mask. Now that you had a jacket, it was less obvious that you were wearing a costume. You bought yourself (fav food), and started eating it on a rooftop of a tall building.

You wanted to call May, but your phone wasn't working. You wanted to inform her that you were alright, but you couldn't. You just sat there for a while, admiring the view of New York under you. Your head was full with questions.

Who is Mysteryo? Why do people hate me all of a sudden? Why did that lady ask why i was looking more feminine? She tought i was a boy?

Suddenly, you heard slow footsteps. There was someone else, and he or she was coming towards you.

- Umm... Hey? - the person asked. He sounded like a man. You quickly turned around and tried to shoot a web at him, but he dodged you attack, and did the same move as you, and your legs sticked to the ground.

- How did you do that? - you looked at him with confusion. He had brown hair, blue eyes, and he was definitely older than you. He looked like a random civilian, but random civilians don't just come up to rooftops and shoot webs.

- You're a girl? - he raised his eyebrows.

- Well what do you see?

- Sorry, i just tought you were a boy.

- Thats alright, many others do. But you still didn't answer my question.

- Oh. Its a long story. I got bitten by a radioactive spider. I'm Peter Parker by the way - he explained to you.

- I got bitten by a radioactive spider, too! Spiders suck.

- Yeah, i agree.

- And... What are you doing up here? Also, could you please get your webs off my feet and hands?

- Oh, sure! - he rushed to you. - By the way, i am looking for another Peter Parker. I woke up here, and it feels different. I was woken up by some kid who was poking me with a stick, because i was sleeping on a bench - He laughed a little bit at his story.

- Lucky. I flew into a wall - you said as you remembered what happened not a while ago.

- That must hurt.

- I was swinging around, searching for crime, ya know, when suddenly my surroundings changed, and that was when i hit the wall. But what do you mean under "another Peter Parker"?

- I saw him on the news. He is also Spider-Man, just like me. When i saw you on the screen, i tought it was him.

- Well, i have to dissapoint you then. I'm not Peter Parker. I'm Y/N Parker.

You had a little talk about y'all's lives, and you realised that you tow have many things in common. You both have an aunt called May, you both lost uncle Ben, you both go to the same high school, and many other stuff. You decided to stay with him for a little bit, but later you chose to be alone.

Now, that you spent almost a day and a half here, at New New York, you were getting kinda used to it. You did a big research about this Mysteryo dude, and about what happened to Spider-Man, all this in a small internet café. You believed that Peter (tom) didn't kill Mysteryo.

You were doing your daily research, when you saw a live video. It was about Peter (tom) , so you clicked on it, hoping i find out something. The boy had bruises all over his face, and he was standing at the Statue of Liberty, or something like that. The statue had a shield in its hand instead a torch, and it was under construction. Peter said he's about to fight some villains, and that he needs our support.

You ran out of the café, put on your mask, and headed to the statue to help him.

No one's pov

The Peters gathered together, and waited for the enemy to appear. Suddenly, Peter 1 (tom) saw someone.

- Guys! There! Someone's coming! - he whisper-shouted.

- I don't think he's one of the bad guys. I mean... Which one of them looks like this? - Peter 3 (tobey) stated.

- Is it... A girl? No, she looks just like us... But as a girl - Peter 2 (andrew) watched as the unknown person swung closer.

The person landed near them.

- Hi! - she gave them a small wave.

- Wait... Y/N? - Peter 3 (tobey) pulled down his mask.

- Peter! Nice to see ya again! - she hugged the man.

Y/N pov

It was nice to see Peter again.

- You guys know each other? - the youngest Peter asked.

- Long story, but yes. So... Who are we going to fight? - you put your hands on your hips.

- "We"?

- Yeah. You said you need all of the support, so i came.

- When i said it, this wasn't what i meant - Peter 1 (tom) buried his face in his hands.

- But i tought that if i'm here, maybe i should help.

- You're from another universe, too? - Peter 2 (andrew) looked at you.

- Yep. It was so strange! It didn't feel like my New York, and later on i found out that people from different universes started to appear.

- Umm guys... I think they are coming! - Peter 3 (tobey) interrupted.

- Lets get this party started! - Peter 2 (andrew) put on his mask.

You all got into position. Peter 2 explained what will happen and what is the plan, and told you to stay close to him, even tho you told him you are just like the other Spider-Men, just as a woman, but he was adamant. First, Sandman appeared, then Lizard, after that Electro. You just helped where you could. When you saw that the guy behind a portal couldn't close it, you rushed over to help.

- No problem, just try again! - you heard the girl trying to calm down the boy.

- Thanks MJ.

- Have you ever closed a portal? - you turned your head towards the boy.

- Well, no. They just closed by themselves somehow - he answered.

- Okay, take a deep breath, and try again! - you suggested.

After over a hundred tries, the portal was still open. Suddenly, you saw Lizard coming towards the three of you.

- Ned! You should hurry a bit, because that thing is coming towards us! - the girl pointed at the monster.

Aw shit.

- RUN! - you shouted, and ran towards the thing who was once a man. The others started running towards an exit. The lizard dodged your attacks, and started to chase the teens. He probably needs that box-like thingy that the girl was holding, you tought as you swung after the monster. Lizard already destroyed the halls of the high-school.

- MJ! NED! Where are you? - you shouted after you lost track of them. If they die, thats on you, because you couldn't save them. You already lost uncle Ben, and you blamed yourself for it, because you weren't fast enough. If you hurried up, he wouldn't die that night. This was the reason you chose to become Spider-Woman. To save others, so that they don't have to go trough what you went trough.

All of a sudden, you heard a big clash. Maybe they are there, you tought. You sprinted to where you heard the sound from, and voilá, there they were. MJ and Ned were running for their lives, Lizard behind them. You blocked its way with a locker.

- Somebody's been missing his classes, am i right? - you said to the monster as you webbed him up.

~small time skip-

Out of nothing, Peter 2 (andrew) showed up. All he saw was a webbed up Lizard, destroyed halls, and a barely alive Y/N, curled up in a ball. He injected the monster with his cure, then immediately rushed over and kneeled down to you. You were laying on the floor. When you saw Peter, you gave him a small smile, and spoke.

- I protected it, because you said it was more important than your life... - you revealed the box-like thingy.

~an hour ago~

- There is a girl there, see?

You nodded.

- And you see that thing in her hand?

You nodded again.

- No matter what, we have to protect it. That thing is more important than my life.

~flashback end~

3rd person pov

Peter's (andrew) eyes were filled with clear tears. The look of almost dead Y/N made his heart shatter to pieces. When he said that they need to protect the box, he didnt knew this would happen.

- Is... MJ and Ned... Okay? - Y/N asked quietly. She could barely talk because of the wounds and exhaustement. She would do anything to keep the others safe. Why? It was grief. She saw his boyfriend, Peter Parker die right before her eyes. Same with Uncle Ben.

- Yeah, everything's fine. There is a wizard, he's gonna send all of us home.

- So we won?

- Yes, we did. But you can't go home in this state. You're coming with me.

- But how?

- I have no idea, but i will try to do something about it.

- Wow. No one did such a generous thing to me in years. Thank you for caring.

But in that moment, Peter started to fade away.

- P-peter? Whats happening to you? - Y/N panicked.

- Its probably the wizard. Well... Goodbye then... I will find you again - he smiled as he turned into gold dust. The same happened to you.

The end

[yandere-wishes]

A Story Told In Maybes  {Part #1}

🗡️Yandere! Enma Yuuken x reader

🗡️Summary: Enma Yuuken lives on the fine line between "Hero" and "Villain" but his story will never end in a "happily ever after" or a "tragically ever after" it will only end in Maybe...

🗡 Edited by the amazing @tealyjade-libran

🗡️ Alternative title: How many times can Genie use "Damn" in a story...

Maybe in some other world, they could have been lovers

Imagine that...

picture it as vividly as a fresh stab wound to your heart. Sketch the vision of a red waterfall carrying away your life. 

Now picture two people. A young man and woman, sitting on a park bench, holding hands and laughing, inching closer and closer. 

Imagine love, happiness, tranquility...

But those things only exist in fairy tales. And his life was most certainly not a fairy tale. 

They were foreigners, outsiders, aliens. Banished into a strange land were twisted fairy tales, roamed the earth. Where magic and mischief came as naturally to the inhabitants as breathing. Where nothing mattered, because nothing was. Everything is and thus it isn't. Nothing made sense, and sometimes, in some rare moments of stolen repose, Enma Yuuken was scared that nothing would ever make sense again. 

All of it, every microscopic thing about this 'new world' was wrong, abnormal, twisted. 

Everything except his traveling companion. Another lost soul as disjointed and out of place as he was. Another ghost trying to survive in this matrix of a so-called reality. 

There was no shock initially, no surprise in not being the only normal creature to be transported to this bizarre world. Enma knew full well that he wasn't special in any way. Another foreigner being here was one of the few things that actually made sense. 

But as the old expression goes, everything comes at a price. 

Someone else just like him being here, being stuck in this nightmare, made sense. Yet the price of logic was a thread of hysteria that had woven itself deep within his battered heart. A maddening sense that gripped his lungs, robbing them of breath. That picked off pieces from his tattered mind, replacing them with clear cutout thoughts of her. It was always only her.

His companion in this broken world just had to be you. A frail, naïve little girl with no sense about her. Some pretty-girl protagonist straight out of the pages of Shojo Beats. The kind of girl who finds her happily ever after no matter where the hell she is. 

Yet he did not have that luxury, his life was dictated by a series of maybes and could bes. He was a secondary character at best, a background shadow at worst. With no purpose other than smiling and waving. And listening to the protagonist weep about their love-driven woes.

Some days, when the dreary bell chimed for the last time, when the students marched back to the solitude of their dorms, Enma would wander around the halls, squirming in his own misery. Pondering why, oh why of all the people, in all the towns, in all the worlds, did you have to be the one to wind up in this grim land along with him. 

Why fate always had to be so cruel, so domineering, thinking it knew better than the people whose miserable lives it toyed with. He wanted to be your lover, your prince, yours. But what would a guy, who doesn’t even belong in this backward world, have to offer some heroine-type sweetheart? 

🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️

The Ramshackle’s flickering porch light glows in the distance. Like a dying star beckoning him to a destroyed paradise. He knows what's waiting for him behind the worn door. He knows you'll be there standing by the cracked dinner table, laying out days-old sandwiches for dinner, while Grimm rangles with an expired can of tuna. He knows you'll smile with tears in your doe-like eyes as you retell the fables of your endeavors. Telling him in great detail how the so-called king of beasts overpowered you in the school garden. How the King of poisons stole yet another kiss. The tales go on and on. Never-ending, never stopping, never giving him the chance to scavenge the fragments of his shattered heart.

You play your role so damn well. You know how to be the damsel in distress, the poor thing in need of saving. It's repulsive, disgusting...but only because he doesn't know how to be the hero that you need. 

If he was being honest -something he rarely did nowadays- Those "prefects" were the root of all his problems. They were the evil that made this dark world an endless horror. They'd been the ones to drive him into the "caring older brother" role. They had twisted his hand, leading him to the role of the "side-hero" like a lamb to the slaughter. Made him into a prince charming in a world that ate princes alive and spat them out once more. 

They had sealed his fate with a few insults and loaded threats. With just a few longing stares overflowing with lust and envy. They were villains, in a world that celebrated sinners. A world that cheered when the dragon steals the princess and rejoices when the evil king sits upon his skeleton throne. They were villains in every dreadful sense of the damn word. 

It's hard to be in love when all odds are against you. 

When your fate binds you into one role with no way out.

Like a rabbit hole made of quicksand. It dragged him deeper and deeper into intimate madness.

Maybe in some fair world, those leeching villains could keep their greedy blood-drenched hands off of you.

Maybe in a world where the sun never dies, you could bring yourself to love him.

Maybe he could have been the love interest, maybe, maybe, maybe.

It's always only MAYBE!

🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️

"Welcome home Nii-san," 

It's a sweet greeting that ties his guts into ribbons. His hands grow damp as his heavy eyes stare into yours. His lips curl into a painted smile, shielding you from the pain that's clawing in his stomach.

"Hi..(Y/n)"

His voice cracks and croaks like a dying frog. His lips feel abnormally dry and his eyes sting as if they've been pierced by diamond daggers. His steps are heavy as he plops down in his seat. The weight of his worries pulled him down harder than gravity ever could. He watches you through tried, restless orbs. Watches as you waltz over to your seat and sit down with the half grace of some future queen to be. It's bitter, dreadful, leaving a sickly toxin-like taste in his mouth. The mere thought that someday one of those, sinners, will take your hand and drag you to some kingdom far far away makes Enma want to claw his brain out with his bare nails. 

Enma's focus shifts over from his traveling companion to the silver-coated fireball licking his paws. Grimm's teal eyes scan him nervously before he offers a nervous smile, a rarity for the narcissistic cat. He's usually so talkative, so boasting, there was never a moment of tranquility with that cat around...

It takes a moment. A steel coated moment before the gears in Enma's head begin to turn. Before he can place his finger on the heavy abnormality weighing down the atmosphere. His nerves jolt to life, leaving a freezing sweat behind their trail. The room is spinning like a ballroom floor. Something's off, something big and obvious and hidden and...

Maybe...

"So..."

It's your sweet voice that breaks the tension creeping into the air. Melodic and luscious just like the sensation of a blissful dream. The room freezes in its tracks. The heavy atmosphere melts away like a cube of ice. Normality has one foot through the door. Behind it, hope and tranquility peek their heads through the tiny gap.

 Maybe just maybe everything is alright. Maybe it's just him, his stress and anxiety are starting to play cruel jokes on his wonder mind. Maybe he's just going mad. Yeah, that's the sanest conclusion to draw from all this. 

Enma cranes his neck to the side to get a better view of your face. Distress is scribbled all over your skin, like pristine razor cuts. You shift around in your seat, clawing at your uniform skirt as if the midnight black fabric is cutting off your circulation. Your fingers nudge the entrance to your pocket fiddling with something he can't quite make out. 

His voice is low, shaky, as he replies. The unusualness of the situation has him on edge. Nervous to the bitter bone. Maybe he was wrong, maybe his nerves were right to be wary of whatever this was. This uncertainty permeated the air-tight room. 

"What is it?" 

Slowly you drag out a white envelope flooded seven times over from your pocket. You stretch out your hand placing it in between his fingers. Enma throws a passive look at the note, his nose wrinkled up at the familiar scent that pervaded from the paper. 

"What's this?" 

It was rhetorical, asked out of dull, morbid courtesy. This time he didn't bother looking at you, in fear of seeing you look -lord forbids- gleeful. 

"A love letter, Grimm found it in our locker after class." 

There was a pause, lengthy, nerve-wracking, heart wrenching. Yuuken could hear the way your breath hitched in your throat, he could almost feel the excitement radiate off your body. 

"Can you believe it Nii-san? Someone actually left me a love letter!"

It hurt it really did, this time his heart didn't shatter. It simply broke, in two or three or maybe four. Who knows, who cares.  They had escalated from simple harassment and unsightly displays of public affection to leaving you love letters. How ungodly, how absurd, how brave...

He laments, eyes tracing over the fog of his breath as it wafts through the musty room. He wants to rip that damned piece of paper, shred it into millions so the words become ineligible, so you'll never read those horrible words again. So you'll forget that some damn fool other than him can actually love you. But he doesn't, he has too much self restraint and too much respect for his dear "little sister" to actually do it. 

His arm stretches over the table, skin illuminated by the dying candle on the center. He places the letter back safely in between your fingers. His eyes meet yours for only the second time that night. He takes in your face, Committing every piece of it to his miserable memory. The heartily glow in your crystal eyes, the faint schoolgirl smile dancing across your lips, the rose blush kissing your cheeks, the way the candle illuminates your skin, wrapping in a sparkling glow like the princess from those tales of old. You're mesmerizing in every way, it would be reasonable for other men to notice your elegance. No wonder those "prefects" were drawn to you so naturally like moths to a golden flame. 

"Who sent it?" 

His voice comes out like a block of ice, shielding away any and all his stray emotions. He doesn't want to know how doleful he is, he just can't have you taking pity on him. 

Your smile fades ever so slightly, your brows draw closer. Confusion is etched on your face. You haven't got a clue. 

"Well...I'm not sure, but they did say to meet them at the school gates when the clock chimes twelve."

Oh, joy, another fairy tale reference. It's comedic how fairy tales have begun to dictate his life. Everywhere he turns there's a grim tale awaiting him. Yuuken spares a quick glance at the crooked clock hanging by a loose thread. It’s a minute to midnight. 

"I should come with you" 

It's not a request but you take it as so. 

"No need to bother, I'll take Grimm, he could use the walk. He's starting to bulk up a bit"

"HEY! The great Grimm-Sama doesn't "Bulk up" He only gets more powerful!" 

Before the older male can protest, you're already halfway out the door. Grimm scurrying to follow you on all fours like a pesky rat. The door slams on your way out, leaving Yuuken alone with his morbid screeching thoughts. 

There goes the only good thing in his life. Into the arms of another. 

For a second he contemplates leaving you to fate, after all, who's he to disobey fate, go against whoever orchestrates this universe. But it's only a second, short lived and quickly died. 

Maybe he's a hero.

Maybe he's a Prince Charming.

Maybe he's a villain.

Maybe he's just some honorary older brother looking out for his kid sister.

Maybe, just maybe, he's your future lover;

and he'll be damned if he lets you slip out of hands. 

Enma's quick to grab his old practice blade from the overstuffed closet. It's not much, but it's all he has from the normal world, from his world. 

The door grates for the last time that night as he steps out into the cold midnight air. The stars blink in some sort of secret tongue, either warning him or encouraging him, he doesn't know. Nor does he truly care, for Enma Yuuken is done letting life and fate and villains decree his meaningless life. Here and now that's where he'll make his stand, he'll save you. Kiss you. Love you. Marry you. You, You, YOU

But there's still one nagging thought that screams inside his head as he dashes for the school gates. This world worships villains, prays at their feet, and hands them death and destruction on golden plates. And he's no villains, he's some sort of upside-down, in-between. Rotting alone in the border between Hero and Villain. By law of society, he's a reject, a useless foreigner, an alien, an outsider. 

and MAYBE he's already too late...

Who wrote the love letter? Was it the head of the savanaclaw dorm or maybe the head of the heartslabyul dorm ? Maybe it’s the ever mysterious  Tsunotarou... 

[boldbrash-fandertrash]

Ignore me, unless I’m right in which case I fucking called it

So I was rewatching the episode for the fourth time and one I realized that Remus is much much smarter than we give him credit for and two I can generally predict how the rest of the story is gonna go.

We’re gonna have another aside video with Patton and Janus before the big season finale, and that aside is going to be one of the most important videos to the general progression of the plot.

I’m sure you’ve noticed the pattern so far, two sides who diametrically oppose each other being forced to work together on a problem they vastly disagree about, usually turning the small issue into something much messier than it ever would be and them learning something about themselves in the process.

Each pairing exists to point out to the viewer exactly what issues exist with each side that need some form of resolving, and the big unifying theme amongst them is “you’re not listening to me”. Roman and Virgil dragging Thomas across the cafeteria in favor of or agains him talking to Nico, Logan and Remus deliberately ignoring and working to undo the others work in an attempt to break Thomas out of the depressive funk he found himself in. Nobody is working together here. The only side to even remotely cooperate with the group was Virgil body checking Thomas into Nico, and it took him and Roman bullying each other and Thomas for an entire video to even get to that point.

Watching Logan and Remus interact, one, brought me immense joy and I will be chasing that high for weeks to come, and two, after an ounce of critical thinking was frankly painful to watch. Any critiques Logan offered to Remus were immediately discarded with absurdity and any critiques Remus offered to Logan were discounted as absurd.

During the obvious scene at the end with the Eyes™️, Logan claimed he wasn’t pretending Remus didn’t exist, but honestly, he kinda was.

The Dunce Cap Scene really accentuates this point. Logan pulls a holier than thou, why won’t you learn I’m always right, bullshit passive aggressive remark, Remus does his dramatic repenting student shtick, starts singing directly into Logan’s ear, and makes a kink joke. Literally the words Remus sings are “can’t fix this guy, all by yourself”. Remus is saying this inches from Logan’s personal face and even still the logical side ignores him outright, because of all the fluff around the message. Hell, in Remus’s introduction video, Logan likens him to a screaming baby on a plane, essentially saying “well eventually he’ll stop screaming so just bear with it for a while and you’ll be fine”. He’s ignoring Remus outright due to a preconceived notion and missing out on valuable information because of it.

The dunce cap scene indirectly calls back to learning new things about ourselves, where Logan is completely unreceptive to the puppet bit because of its perceived absurdity and absolutely refuses to acknowledge any potential the medium might have for learning until he physically cannot anymore.

Remus is capable of, and does often, make valid points and offers genuine critiques of shit happening in their lives. In Forbidden Fruit, almost every single line harkens back to some idea the other sides had been trying, and failing, to communicate to Thomas. “Good and bad is all made up nonsense”, “if you shared those musings with your friends i doubt they would forgive you”, “why deny yourself knowledge, say, knowledge of yourself” “people don’t like me much, Thomas, but that only just cause I’m honest”, “these sorts of things are only thought in the mind of a man who’s soul is truly rotten.”

Despite all of this, he is ignored outright because of his medium. Just like Logan is ignored due to his monotone cadence and large volume of content, just like Roman is due to his flair for the dramatic and artistic display of ideas, just like Patton is due to his playful and childlike nature, just like Janus is due to his perceived role as the Villain, just like Virgil /was/ due to his perceived role as the villain.

They all have become accustomed to being stepped on by the other sides because of who they are and how they communicate, and have in turn learned some less than ideal methods of being heard again. Logan yells and gets passive aggressive, Remus ups the fear factor for everyone around him, Roman shuts down anyone who tries to talk through bullying and raising his voice, Patton manipulates the others into feeling guilt and covers it up with a smile, Virgil whips out the tempest tongue and incites fear in Thomas, and Janus physically silences anyone in his way.

And here’s why I say the next asides episode is going to be the most important one developmentally. Patton and Janus are going to be forced to work together. Patton, who is in the midst of an identity crisis, and willing to listen to any new ideas provided they offer a valid solution to the shit he’s found himself in, and Janus, who knows a lot more than he’s willing to let on, who concerns himself exclusively with Thomas’s self preservation, and loves to talk when given the opportunity. Janus is gonna have a thing or two to say to Patton when they’re inevitably faced with their moral dilemma, and Patton is going to be in just the right mindset that he’s willing to listen. And Janus is going to end up being right, and the small issue they’re facing will be resolved, which will therefore strengthen Patton’s trust, and his openness to changing for the better.

Patton is goofy, and childish, and kinda ditzy sometimes, and because of that we as a fandom tend to overlook any of his moments that are anything but that, but we are not giving this man enough credit. When Patton sets his heart on something, he throws his whole self into it, and is willing to stand up for his beliefs in the face of extreme opposition, and would gladly do anything in his power to defend his family. Once Patton decides that he’s willing to grow, and if he believes that this growth will help put his family back together, nothing can stop him, and that will be absolutely crucial for the growth of all the other sides around him.

Whatever him and Janus discuss during their aside will absolutely give Patton the information he needs to help stitch together the rift between everyone.

I predict the next official Sanders Sides video is going to be the longest one yet, possibly over an hour long, because there’s a LOT of work that is going to need to be done, and Everyone is going to be in it. The big issue of “you’re not listening to me” won’t be resolved, but it will be acknowledged in a serious light by everyone. We won’t be getting any appearances from the Orange Side I don’t think, that would end up just complicating matters even more when each character is already incredibly shaky in their own identity.

Something less than ideal is gonna happen between Thomas and Nico, he’s gonna summon the initial three to deal with the matter but the other lads are gonna worm their way into the discussion, everyone’s gonna start screaming at each other, and Pattons gonna do something that stuns everyone else into silence (I’m guessing he’ll start crying, considering the start of season two was all about him repressing negative emotions and what better way to show character growth than to sob openly on camera).

Once everyone just fucking stops for ten seconds that’s when the apologies start. None of the sides are ever the first to apologize, we’ve seen that time and time again. Their desire to be in the right as well as their pride will always get in the way, however if someone starts the apology train everyone will eventually follow suit. We see that in Alone On Valentines Day, My Negative Thinking, Growing Up, Accepting Anxiety, Fitting In, Moving On, actually in pretty much every video where an apology actually takes place, once one person apologizes the other will immediately follow suit.

Patton is gonna be a goddamn mess, he’s gonna apologize to everyone in the room for anything he thinks he may have done to wrong them, and that’s gonna be what gets everyone to acknowledge all the shit they’ve put each other through, and the others are going to jump between trying to console him and trying to apologize to each other. They’re going to come to the unified decision that they need to work together more on future issues, the group is all going to offer up a solution and decide together on a remedy to whatever happened together between Thomas and Nico, and that will be that. Season three will be about them finding the balance between stepping on toes and being stepped over, while also working out how the orange side fits into everything.

Thus marking the end of my rant.

I started writing this at 2 and it’s now 4. I have to be up in three hours. I have an essay due at 3pm tomorrow that I haven’t started, but instead I typed up all this bullshit. I hope any of this made any sense, and I hope this is a suitable replacement for my emotions essay that’s completely untouched because chances are this is what I’m presenting to my therapist tomorrow. Wish me luck.

[whoree321]

the bad batch + olivia rodrigo songs

this is kinda super angsty and i didn’t necessarily mean for it to be but also idk what i expected. omega’s is cute but everyone else’s just got more sad the more I wrote lmaoooooo

Hunter: happier

hunter is def the kind of guy after a break up that wants things to be on good terms and genuinely does want to see the other person happy

like i think hunter is the most likely to want to stay friends after a break up

but he also has that pride and ego of not wanting to be replaced or wanting the next person to be better than him

he would be really torn between sincerely wanting the best for them and also battling his own discomfort and insecurity/jealousy at actually seeing them be happy without him

the balance between maturity/respect and that petty need to “win” a breakup would be tricky for hunter to manage

i feel like this song perfectly captures post break up hunter like “i hope you’re happy but don’t be happier” that’s really truly how he’d feel

Crosshair: favorite crime

i think that if crosshair got to a point in a relationship where he really cared about the other person and then they broke up he would feel very much this song

like i know the obvious choice might seem like “good 4 u” like edgy and angsty but I don’t think he would feel so aggressively angry as he would feel just really melancholy about it

like crosshair isn’t the type of guy to have meaningful relationships that he puts his heart into so if he did put himself out there and open his heart up so much he’s not gonna be able to just shut it down (even though he def will act like he doesn’t care at all even a little bit)

he’s gonna feel hurt and taken advantage of by the other person but he’s also gonna blame himself for being so vulnerable and opening himself up to that hurt

like i really feel like in the bridge where its like "everything we broke and all the trouble that we made / but i say that i hate you with a smile on my face / oh look what we became" is very crosshair. thats the bittersweetness he would feel towards someone he really loved that ended up hurting him

Tech: deja vu

this is so tech bc it is really a thorough, itemized, fuck you list

like i feel like it would be very tech to pinpoint all the parts of an ex’s new relationship that they reused from their relationship with him and just be like “hm. interesting. a big fat phony. how does that feel? to be a phony? just asking for a friend”

and that’s also something that would hurt him the most. like knowing that that person had experiences with him and learned things from/with him that he thought were meaningful and then they just go share all of it with someone else? that would be tough for him to take

the lines that specifically give me tech are in the one chorus where it’s like “that was our place / I found it first / I made the jokes you tell to her / when she’s with you” and also in the bridge when it’s like “play her piano but she doesn’t know / that I was the one who taught you billy joel”

i could just see him having detailed notes of his favorite moments of his relationship with that person (like specifically things they learned together or taught each other, new experiences they had together, etc) and then gradually having to sadly mark down when one of them has been used with someone else

it would be a really prolonged hurt knowing how much he valued those things and thought they were special and how much the other person just didn’t think that at all and continuously drives that point home

Wrecker: 1 step forward, 3 steps back

i feel wrecker here in this song bc i think of all the bad batch he is one of the most likely to really drag out a rough relationship in the hopes that it gets better

and I don’t mean that in a shady way at all. but I think crosshair’s self-preservation would kick in, tech would turn to logic and numbers and determine the costs outweigh the benefits and it’s no longer a fruitful relationship, and hunter and echo would have a weird honor code of like “I cannot allow our relationship to cause pain any longer”

but wrecker

wrecker would just be so head over heels and desperate to go back to good times bc he just loves so fully and completely. he falls fast and hard and it would be difficult for him to accept that a once-happy relationship just isn’t salvageable

the line that gets me is really in the chorus like “do you love me, want me, hate me / boy I don’t understand” bc I think that’s exactly how he would feel

wrecker would just be so sad and confused and he would know things were going wrong but it would just be such a whirlwind and he would want it to work out so much that he would let himself stay in an unhappy situation for too long

Echo: traitor

echo is an extremely loyal person and he values loyalty in a relationship so much

when he loves someone and dedicates himself to someone, it is really hard to break that bond. he will stick by them through almost anything

one of the few things that is unforgivable in a relationship to him tho is infidelity. so the hurt and anger in this song I think is something he would really feel in a relationship that ended in a similar situation

like if echo’s s/o was unfaithful to him, even if they didn’t technically cheat on him, it would really cut him to the bone. he couldn’t imagine doing that to someone else and I think he would feel that betrayal from them really deeply

the line in this one that sold it is in the last chorus when she changes it a little and goes “you gave me your word / but that didn’t matter”. like the way she says it is so hurt and that’s how he would feel

losing someone he cared about would really sting for echo (he’s already lost so much), but losing them bc they betrayed his trust, knowing that he really believed in them and he really thought they were someone he could put his faith in and then being wrong? it would be devastating to him

Omega: brutal

this song really captures that chaotic panic of being young and coming into yourself and the world

i think omega is a little young at this point to be feeling a lot of this just yet, but when those teenage hormones and angst settle in this one is gonna hit different for her

it’s just a really good depiction of that like self-consciousness and anxiety of adolescence where you’re so hyper-aware of your flaws and you feel like everyone is looking at you and judging you all the time

and in omega’s position, I imagine when she enters that time in her life it’s gonna feel pretty intense. you can already tell she feels some of it just bc of her life situation and experiences but once you add in the normal hormones and psychological changes it’s gonna be crazy

the most omega line in this song is when she goes “i’m so tired that i might / quit my job start a new life / and they’d all be so disappointed / cause who am i if not exploited?”

LIKE THATS LITERALLY HER @ THE KAMINOANS IN THE FIRST EPISODE THATS BASICALLY EXACTLY WHAT HAPPENED

basically it would be her teeny bopper anthem and i love it for her