#even though the personal evidence I'm giving is past tense

[dairyminki]

Inked By Fate - FIVE

↬ pairing/s: park seonghwa x fem!reader, choi san x fem!reader ↬ genre: soulmate!au, racers!ateez, rivalry, angst, romance, fluff, pining ↬warning/s: profanities ↬wc: 2.1k

*reblogs and feedbacks are much appreciated!

・・・・・★

Another night at KQ-Strip, another race to be missed.

"Yeo, I'll just go to the comfort room, okay?"

"Sure, but be back quick. You don't want to miss my race, do you?" Yeosang had the smug look on and you just can't help but scoff.

"Yeah, whatever." You replied and then you went on your way.

By now, you've totally mastered the whole place, you're also starting to think that one of these days, Yeosang will start to question your frequent disappearances and trips to the comfort room.

Just like always, you go inside the comfort room first, you washed your face and then as soon as you were done, you went out to go look for San, that is, if he doesn't find you first, which he always does anyway.

But tonight, a shocked expression was evident on your face when you opened the door, because not only San greeted you outside, but also another male, who's smirking your way.

"So, she's the one you've been waiting for, right Choi? Or am I wrong?" Hongjoong asks the younger, yet much taller male.

"H-Hongjoong…" You gasp. "What are you doing here?"

The mentioned male just shakes his head, grinning deviously after. "You don't think you're the one I should ask that?" He raises an eyebrow, making you gulp.

You sigh, giving in, not fighting the fact that one of Yeosang's friends finally caught you with your little secret rendezvous with one of their despised, not really, rivals. And it happens to be Hongjoong who has caught you, huh?

"Fine, I admit I've been seeing San. So what?" You retort, trying to act brave, even though deep inside you're scared that your brother will find out that you just so happened to break the trust he has given you.

"Really? You're not afraid that Yeosang might find out?"

"Well, he won't find out if you won't tell him." You counter.

"What makes you think I won't tell him?" Hongjoong replies, and now you two are stuck in an intense eye staring battle, with a quiet San at the side.

Still in the middle of the battle, Hongjoong says, "Why are you seeing a member of Inferno when Yeosang clearly told you not to?"

"Why shouldn't I, when I'm my own person?" You mutter through gritted teeth, San slightly tensing at the side due to the fact that you just used his exact words.

The next thing you knew, Hongjoong was already chuckling.

"Now I know why Mingi has taken a liking to you, Y/N. Feisty, that's what you are." A devious of a smirk appears on the blonde's face. Then his face turns serious.

"But, I really need to know your business with Inferno, Y/N. When Yeosang told you to stay away, he meant it. Tell me what do you keep seeing San for, and if it passes my validity standard in terms of reasoning then I might just let this incident slide and never mention a word to your brother...for the meantime, that is."

What's up with Inferno really? You wanted to ask. Because it's getting a little sketchy and tense whenever someone lets the word slip past their mouths.

Is there something that you should know of?

Your train of thoughts stops when you feel someone tap your shoulder, and when you look back, it was San. And in a whisper, he says to you, "Let me deal with Mr. Tiny." If it wasn't for the current situation, you might've laughed.

"Hongjoong hyung." San speaks, catching the male's attention.

"No cover ups, just speak the truth Choi."

"You want the truth, then I'll give you that." You hear San mutter under his breath as he takes a step closer to Hongjoong.

"Soulmates."

At that, you see Hongjoong flinch. "I-uh? What?" He asks, perplexed by a single word.

"Soulmates. We're soulmates." San repeats, making sure Hongjoong hears it much clearer this time.

Hongjoong was wearing a look of shock and disbelief, and you mirrored him.

Just what on earth is Choi San plotting now?

Did he perhaps know?

・・・・・★

After escaping Hongjoong and sealing a deal with him to keep his mouth shut, you and San run along to his car.

Few minutes into the car ride was pure silence until your companion spoke up.

"I'm sorry about that. It's the only excuse I could make up." There was regret in his voice, but you just giggled silently.

"It's okay San."

So he didn't know.

But he wasn't wrong either. His excuse was…

"Y/N, I have something to tell you, by the way." San speaks again, this time with much urgency in his voice.

Before he could ramble on, you held up a hand and told him to focus on the road.

"I have something to tell you too, San, but can you just drive for now? Our talk could wait, you know?" You mused and San just mumbles a sorry, smiling sheepishly after.

・・・・・★

San rolls up one of his sleeves and shows you his wrist. Now empty.

Your inked name nowhere to be found, instead, the skin was now littered with freckles.

Seeing your puzzled expression, he chuckles, saying, "I know, I was confused too. Because the moment I woke up and checked my wrists, I didn't see your name anymore, just these freckles, which surprised me even more."

Hmm...the tattoo faded, then?

Then that just backs-up the data you've gathered. It makes much more sense now.

"So I did my research," You say, turning San to his attentive state.

"...and the only plausible explanation for our current situation is that…"

"Is that what? C'mon, don't get all suspenseful about it on me now!" San whines and you can't help but chuckle at his cuteness.

Just where did the smirky San go?

"The only plausible explanation as to what the both of us could be is that…..we're platonic soulmates, San."

As soon as you dropped the bomb, San's eyes were wide, not in horror, but in amusement? Excitement? You don't know, but you know it's positive.

"No way—platonic soulmates exist too?" He had a hand over his mouth, like a child who just discovered that Santa Claus isn't real.

"Funny, cause that's what I asked my friend too. Research says that having a platonic soulmate is rare in occasion, having only 8% of the population to have one. Probably why not much knows that this type of soulmates exists." You say, relaying the information you've gathered with Jia earlier.

"So that's why…" San mutters. When you look at him, he wears this warm smile, his dimples still showing up of course.

"That explains why I feel connected to you in some way, even after knowing we're not soulmates- well we kinda are, but not in a romantic, or lover aspect. But we're basically still each other's halves, platonically, and I'm happy," San tells you, smiling so dearly and giggling after, that you just can't help but mirror his joy.

After learning you two are platonic soulmates, you can't help but think that maybe it wasn't attraction you felt for San on that first night, maybe it was indeed the connection your souls have with each other that kept you drawn to him. Because as you stare at San now, only one thought crosses your mind.

Being with him surely feels like hanging out with a friend you've known for years.

・・・・・★

Just as you thought that the night was over, you clearly thought wrong.

San was supposed to drive you back to the underground, but it just made your eyebrows furrowed in confusion once you noticed he was taking a different route. You're pretty aware that the race is finished too. So where on earth is San taking you?

"We're here!" San chirps as he turns off the car's engine. While you stayed put in your seat, San exited the car and went to your side to open the car door.

"Where are we exactly?" You question only to receive no reply as San just grabs you out of your seat.

"You'll see."

The male proceeds to drag you until you two arrive in front of a building. Entering, your eyes automatically scan the whole place - it was lavish.

This place is something you surely know you can't and won't be able to afford.

You gawked as the two of you stepped inside the elevator - even the elevator was high class!

"San, where exactly are we?" You asked San who was in front of you, busily pressing on some buttons.

"Just you wait and see, Y/N."

When the elevator opened, you immediately followed San, only to wince in pain when your face landed flat on his back. You were too busy roaming your eyes around the area to notice that he had stopped walking.

When you peaked, you saw that the two of you stopped in front of a room. San knocked on the door, and instantly, you heard commotion from inside.

"San-"

The door opens.

"Oh goodness, there you are! Where the heck did you disappear—Y/N-ie?!" Wooyoung shrieks as he sees you together with his friend. What on earth is Kang Yeosang's sister doing here?

"Uh-hi?" You awkwardly greeted, and then you turned to San who was beside you, waiting for him to fill you in.

San chuckles, dismissing your look of confusion and Wooyoung's questioning glare. He pushes you inside by the small of your back and says, "Welcome to our dorm, Y/N!"

・・・・・★

They call this a dorm? This place that almost looks like a five star hotel, a dorm??

"When you told me you had a girl friend, I didn't expect it to be Kang Y/N." Wooyoung exclaims to his friend. He was seated on the loveseat which was opposite of the couch you and San are both seated on.

"Trust me, neither did I expect it, Woo," San replies casually, his attention present on the flat-screen television as he flips through channel by channel.

Meanwhile, you're silent by yourself, certainly not expecting today is the day that San would drag you to see their dorm.

"So tell me, what is little Y/N-ie doing inside an Inferno's marked territory even if her brother clearly despises us?" Wooyoung's look was challenging as he sends you a smirk.

And did he just call you little Y/N-ie? Little??

"The audacity to call me little when you're not so tall yourself." You retort, only to send him into a boisterous laughter.

"This is why I like you, Y/N!" Then the next thing you knew, he's already out of the loveseat and is now clinging to your side, one arm looped with yours.

"So tell me, how'd you manage to befriend little Sannie?" He proceeds to ask with an amused smile.

Before you could answer anything, San happily does it for you. "She's clearly uncomfortable with you sticking like glue beside her Woo."

You were almost thankful to San, note, almost.

"Also, how she and I became friends isn't what's important right now Woo. In fact, she's here because of a certain someone." San smiles innocently, and you're sure his statement piqued Wooyoung's interest much more, but not yours.

You knew exactly what San was referring to.

"Is it what I think it is?" Wooyoung chides, then he turns to you, wiggling his brows.

"No! It's not what you thi-"

Your words were cut off due to an abrupt knock from the door.

"Speaking of that certain someone." San whistles as he stood up from the couch and went straight for the door to open it.

You just sat on the couch, defeated and somewhat nervous. Because, he's here.

Meanwhile, Wooyoung was frowning beside you. "Oh, so San meant you're here for him, for Seonghwa hyung," He huffs. "And here I thought you've somehow fallen for my charms and came to see me."

At that your eyes widened. "What the fuck, Wooyoung?"

"Yeosang's sister?" You hear someone speak. And you already knew who it was.

There he was, in his all-black glory, standing beside San with his hands inside his pockets, his face displaying a questioning look. You don't know him well, but you're sure his expression says he's not pleased with your presence here.

Well who would be? When you're the sister of one of his rivals?

You scoffed, standing up. "I have a name, you know."

Your mind might've been playing tricks on you and perhaps, your eyes, but you know you saw that ghost of a smile pass by his lips.

"Sure you have." Seonghwa says, and just like that, he turns around and walks away. To his room, maybe.

But you made sure to stop him before he could enter inside. Why is he like this?

That's it, you've had enough.

"Park Seonghwa, you're one heck of a cold jerk!" You shout at the top of your lungs, surprising the three males inside the room.

Tension and silence wrapped the room coldly for a dreadful moment before you heard a dark, deep chuckle.

"And so I've heard, Kang," Seonghwa spoke in a monotone before he twisted open the knob to his room, went inside and slammed it shut.

You blinked your eyes in disbelief. Soon, your cheeks were tinted a deep shade of red and eventually you fall back on the couch, hugging a pillow to your face as you realize what you've just done.

Did you just do that? Yes, you did!

It's embarrassing for fuck's sake, but there's no way you'll be able to hold back your annoyance on him any longer.

And it also seems like you won't be able to face him anymore.

・・・・・★

taglist: @rockstarsanie @purple-bell @huachengsbestie01 @ellelabelle @annacroft23114 @http-gyu @bluehwale-main @sangiluvem   @babyhailey819 @0rangemilk @kmecrazyfor @sallymurda @oahubliss @jxhnnyfav @mingiswow @linoluvr4eva @n18i81 @yourfatherlucifer @kodzukein @likexaxdaydream @altgojo @namjooncrabs @imsodazed (pink ones are those i can't seem to tag !!)

↬ IBF MASTERLIST

#san x reader #seonghwa x reader #pirateeznet #cromernet #ateez x reader #ateez fic #san x y/n #seonghwa x y/n #ateez fanfic #san fluff #ateez fluff #dairyminkiwrites #inkedbyfate #dairyminki_atzsan #dairyminki_atzsh

[mxboxlocks]

yes im vagueing about a moot i love seeing different interpretations of red/blu mercs dawg. ugnngiggug. /gen gen gen

clone teams? diff people just uncannily similar looking? I LOVE IT ALL!! ITS ALL SO GOOD!!!!

if u want to see my personal ramblings pls click clasck

are you still here. ok good.

HUAGHAGHUUAHGGHHBGG!!!!!!!

so as for the canon of the game/comics its clear theres different sets of teams. i promise this is relevant

Team Echelon. Team Citadel. Team Vanguard. and of course, Team Fortress.

on team fortress, there's 9 other unnamed mercenaries that we don't know the identities of. and according to the update/mvm comics (plus the mvm trailers) the 9 mercenaries we DO know are scattered across RED and BLU. they are not all on the same team like they are in the mainline comics or in shorts like expiration date.

well. why is that

sure you could say "eh for things like mvm its more narratively compelling if both BLU and RED team up to fight the robots, since canonically Blutarch and Redmond, their bosses, are dead. wtf would they fight for" and yknow for a moment i would agree with you but let me get autistic for a sec

look at the language cheavy uses here in this panel

"All she had left was you rejects."

that's not just bully talk or anything, this is intentional. even with the way Saxton Hale treats Team Fortress reflects this

Bidwell's Big Plan, page 04

and even here in the main comics:

A Cold Day in Hell, page 03

they're rejects. quite literally. they get bottom of the barrel weapons, uniforms, food, even for Mann Co..

i'm of the personal belief that the 9 unnamed mercenaries and the teufort 9 are constantly being either exchanged in the unnamed cases, or transferred across team RED and BLU appropriately. autobalanced. some mercenaries have been on certain teams longer than others, like BLU Soldier and RED Demoman YEAH THAT'S RIGHT THIS ROLLS RIGHT BACK TO WAR UPDATE BABY FUCK YOU YOU CANT ESCAPE IT

but the reason i say this is because before the events of the animated shorts (excluding meet the team) or the mainline comics, i have a headcanon the teufort 9 were giving the nameless mercs too much trouble for what they were worth, so they just shoved them all together on the same team, hoping they would just kind of fight it out like pathetic rabid dogs.

what ended up happening was these losers formed the strongest found-family bonds in the history of the universe.

demo and soldier in the mainline comics are still clearly very tense with one another after the events of WAR!, even though they're on the same team (or lack thereof rather). WAR! is still very much canon past the update comics. this is my excuse for changing team colors on their ship and calling it the same people constantly

ANYWAYS yeah. tldr: the mercs are autobalanced a lot and i think there's canonical evidence to prove it . this and clone teams are very near and dear to my heart

#tf2 #team fortress 2 #team fortress two #tf2 soldier #tf2 demoman #tf2 headcanons #box's lockbox

[dzamie-oc]

Voretober 11 - Regret

Length: 1800 words Vore type: M/F oral vore, reluctant prey Fandom: Pokemon Other info: Liepard pred, human prey, feral pred, threat of digestion Summary: An ex-Plasma Grunt seeks closure with one of her past victims. It goes poorly for literally everyone but the Pokemon.

With each step Marie took closer to the Castelia City storefront, it felt only further away, and her backpack - or rather, the clothes inside - hung more heavily off her shoulders. Part of her hoped to find it packed with customers, to give her some excuse to put it off for one more day. Marie clenched her jaw, brushed a lock of red hair over her shoulder, and continued on; the rest of her wasn't a fucking coward.

The bell over the door, decorated like a Chingling, rang as the woman entered. Despite the store's varied collection, the air smelled mostly of books, mixed with cinnamon incense. A woman with short, black hair looked up from her phone behind the register. "Oh, hello!" she said in a light, customer-service voice, "can I help you find anything today?"

As tempting as it was, Marie had more important things than tchotchkes or the new "Ledyba and Black Nyarth" comic. She sighed and approached the cashier. "Kind of. Um… may I ask, Riley, how's your Purrloin doing?"

Confusion and concern were evident on Riley's face; she took a step back from the counter and one hand dropped to her hip for a pokeball. "H-how did you know- wait, Purrloin? Who are you?!"

Marie immediately raised her open hands and took a step back, herself. "Did I get the wrong person? I'm sorry, the records are kind of-"

"Records? What are you talking about?" A dark green pokeball swelled to full size in Riley's hand, and she held it out in front of her, guarding herself from whatever she thought Marie was up to. "E-explain yourself, or else! Where did you look me up, and why?"

"I…" Marie accidentally backed into a shelf and straightened up, "do you, um, remember the whole "Team Plasma" thing about a decade ago?"

"Yeah, but I was never involved with them! For one, I was twelve, and for two-!"

Marie cut her off. "For two, a young Plasma Grunt stole your Purrloin, so you weren't exactly keen to join up."

This threw Riley for a loop. "Yeah. But how would you…" Marie watched her connect the pieces in her mind; as soon as she did, she returned the pokeball to her hip and instead grabbed a heavy-looking book. Though still threatening, the look in her eyes was one of fear. "You bastards aren't taking him again!" she declared.

"It's just me, and no, I'm not. After realizing what the team was really about, I quit and fled. The fact that I was lied to doesn't change what I did, but I just…" Marie swallowed a lump in her throat and tried again. "I found a copy of Plasma's quote-unquote "liberation" records a couple months ago, and your Purrloin was third and last on my… rap sheet. I just want to know, how is he? I really hope he was able to recover from that."

Riley was silent for a long, uncomfortable minute, then retrieved her pokeball once more. She tossed it up and called, with a measured voice, "Noir, showtime."

A burst of red light coalesced into a feline form. Rather than the short, mischievous biped Marie expected of a Purrloin, what appeared was a sleek, four-legged Liepard, standing an impressive four feet tall and adorned in a beautiful, dark purple coat. He landed on the store floor without a sound and glared at Marie before turning to Riley for instruction.

"Noir, this is the woman who stole you from me back in Nacrene city." The brunette's voice was tense with effort to keep malice from her tone. "She wants to know how we've fared ever since we reunited on Skyarrow, after thinking we'd never see each other ever again."

Marie dropped to her knees and shrugged off her backpack; the light hood of her old uniform fell out from it, but she looked nowhere but the cat's green eyes. "Purrl- Noir, I'm so sorry. I can't even claim a change of heart; I was simply too stupid, too blind to know the bond between a girl and her Pokemon." Noir stared placidly back at her, tail lashing behind him. Marie dipped her head and closed her eyes. "Please forgive me. I heard the cries of the Pokemon we'd stolen; I don't have to speak your language to know that I must have hurt you."

"You're asking him, and not me?" Riley asked. There was an edge to her words, but also a note of surprise.

The ex-grunt nodded, never raising her head. "Noir was the one I grabbed and imprisoned. Even if you offered, I couldn't accept your forgiveness if he would't grant me his."

She didn't hear him move, nor did she expect to. Marie startled when she felt the Liepard's paw on her shoulder, and when she looked up, his feline face filled her vision. She wasn't N, she couldn't get a read on him. Was he thinking it over? Was he planning to gut her? It didn't matter; she'd forcibly taken his life into her hands, and would not flinch from a reversal.

Noir yawned wide, rows of pointed, yellow fangs framing a glistening, pink tongue and mouth. However, rather than closing his mouth, the Pokemon pushed forward, and surprised Marie by fitting her entire face between his jaws. She reflexively closed her eyes just in time to feel him tense around her and drag her head forward, into his throat. It was warm, dark, and tight. His fangs brushed against her neck, and she half-expected him to continue to close them. From beyond the Pokemon's jaws, Riley shouted his name, horrified; Marie heard the sound of a pokeball recalling its Pokemon… and then the sound of that beam of light shattering, of a miserably failed capture.

Noir swallowed again and promptly got stuck on her shoulders. Despite the lack of fresh air and the vertigo of strange forces all around her head, Marie did her best to pull her arms in close. He could be no less trustworthy than she had been. Slowly, steadily, the feline worked his jaws back and forth as he soaked Marie's hair and shirt collar with drool; eventually, Noir worked out an angle and approach to get one shoulder, then the other, inside his fanged grip. With all the saliva, she couldn't tell if his fangs had pierced her skin, not as if it was of any matter. His throat, on the other hand, accepted her much more easily, stretching to keep her in a painfully tight grip. It only got hotter as she descended, closer to Noir's stomach.

Just then, something rammed into Noir, raking his fangs through her shirt and possibly flesh. Marie heard Riley yell something else, maybe at Noir, maybe at her. She was growing dizzy. The heat around her chest sank lower, just past her ribs. The air around her head - if she could call it that - grew sharper, almost painful just to breathe, but it wasn't as tight around her head as it was around the rest of her. Something dragged against her knees, or was she being dragged around, herself? Her body told her to move, to thrash, to fight, but there was a reason she wasn't. There had to be, even if it was hard to remember. Maybe she could think after a nice, long-

Red light blinded her, and Marie fell, her upper body drenched, onto the floor of the shop. She made out a blurry, green, circular thing laying that the light had vanished into, and a woman's voice was loudly moving around the store. Taking slow, deep breaths, Marie pushed herself onto her side, and then up a bit, working into a sitting position against a store shelf. There was another red light, and a large yellow and black - no, yellow and purple - figure filled much of her sight. A Pokemon, to be sure.

With each breath, sharpness returned to her vision and mind. Noir the Liepard sat before her, watching her with a keen eye. Her backpack lay to his side, or rather, what was left of her backpack and its contents lay in a heap of tattered, torn fabric. Riley rounded the shelf and skidded to a stop, wielding a spray potion. "Oh, thank goodness! Noir, what the hell! You can't eat people!"

Noir turned his head and smiled, as though pointing out that, as just demonstrated, he COULD, and simply didn't. Marie tried to wave away the Potion, as the scars would be a reminder of the lesson she'd learned… but Riley pointed out that she really couldn't have her walking out of the store a bloody mess. After getting herself sprayed down and repurposing the tatters of her old Plasma uniform as bandages, Noir approached her again. Riley cautiously brandished his pokeball, but Noir simply lifted his forepaw and smacked Marie a few times on the head before licking her once, twice, three times, before turning, booping his muzzle against the pokeball's button, and vanishing back inside.

"Well… I don't get it, but I guess he forgives you," Riley said, staring at the now-dormant pokeball.

It took some effort to stand, but Marie soon stood upright. She scooped up the remnants of her backpack and uniform. "How about you? I know it's a long thing, but-"

"Absolutely not," Riley shot her down at once, "you're insane, I wish I'd never met you, and my life has been worse for each time we've interacted." She shot Marie an icy glare. "Thanks to you, my precious Noir is capable of killing people, and I'll have to live with that knowledge. If I never see you again, it'll be too soon."

Marie nodded and walked back to the front door. "Noted. Thank you for your time."

The other woman switched on her customer service voice again. "Have a good day!" she half-sang, "come back never!"

The bell on the door jingled, and Marie stepped out onto the street. After a few seconds, she turned for one last glance. Riley had her head in her hands, leaning on the counter. Marie sighed. With the last Pokemon down, her heart was lighter… but man, that could've gone so much better.

#voretober #v/ore #v.ore #pokemon #liepard #vorefic #willing prey #fanfic #fanfiction #writing #writers on tumblr #pokemon pred #human #human prey #team plasma #text

[toxifoxx]

I'm new at asking asks so uh um sorry if I'm typing weird anyways wanna explain your au or something or just talk about random facts about your fnaf au? Been staring at your version of william and Henry and just admiring it and wanna know stuff about the sillies ye.

hello anon, thank you very much for the question! :D

to preface this i'll say i do have a few different AUs that all kind of vaguely exist in my mind but i'll presume you wanna hear about my main AU. i like to describe it as "fnaf lore if it didn't suck", i try to stick to canon by keeping major events mostly the same so if you already know fnaf lore you won't be too confused at my AU. i also like to focus more on the tragedy aspects of the lore, so in my writing there's a lot of focus on characters and their emotions, particularly william because i like to psychoanalyze him. but i also want to give more depth to the characters in general and put some spotlight on the missing kids since like… they are barely treated as important in canon and that's kind of sad

putting the rest under the cut cause this post got pretty long (talks about AU features, and a lot about henry and william)

i actually do have a breakdown of some of the key features of my AU! -less sci-fi, more paranormal like old fnaf -willry canon for shits and giggles (past tense)(they are like a divorced couple) -semi-good dad william (until the horrors) -more complex character dynamics, personalities, etc. -relationships expanded upon -more focus on the tragedy aspect -a mildly comprehensive timeline! -transgenderism (william is trans bc i believe it in my heart to be true) -ends at fnaf 6/pizza sim! (UCN is more of like, an epilogue)

if you're curious about my william and henry, i try to base them mostly off the novels! (though novel lore is irrelevant here, since i follow game canon instead, it's still a good basis for their personalities)

so, william is "the normal one", mostly running the business side of things but still a talented inventor and a great entertainer as well. he's silly, he's goofy, he's charming, and he loves the kids! and he loves his family more than anything, even though he's not the most amazing parent! so naturally no one would suspect him to be a murderer. cause underneath all that he's very selfish, willing to go to any lengths to achieve his goals. when CC died he kind of snapped, killing charlie on impulse (but discovering animatronic posession later after observing fredbear and the puppet behaving strangely) thus starting the whole remnant thing. remnant exists still but its more just like a concept than a physical, tangible thing; it's the part of the soul that cannot move on.

and henry is the artist, the recluse who prefers to remain out of the public eye and always seems to be off in another world. he doesn't like talking with people much but i imagine he's very passionate about fredbear's and feels more confident whilst performing as fredbear (like how william does with springbonnie). he's a better dad than william but that's not a super high bar to beat and he unintentionally kind of neglects his kids a lot. which is why the security puppet exists, to keep them safe (didn't quite work. RIP!) i think him and william are actually more similar than either of them would care to admit. henry is a selfish man who'd do anything to achieve his goals too, which is why the murders are covered up and fazbear entertainment keeps going. and also why fnaf 6 happens.

more about charlie's death. it puts a strain on henry and william's relationship, but henry also doesn't want to believe that his partner did it. but i think somewhere in the back of his mind, he absolutely knows. they stick together for a while, but after the missing children's incident henry completely kicks william out of the company. william almost gets convicted, but he's let off since cops couldn't find evidence (henry almost does too but is also let off). and after that william decides to lay low for a while and fuck off to somewhere else. what does he do? shrugs. sister location would happen a while after this and so on and so forth. i could elaborate more if you have any more specific questions!

#anon if you read this let me know cause i'll try to rb to make sure you dont miss it lol #asks #toxi.txt #toxi fnaf lore #also DW your typing is fine!

[icemankazansky]

I was hoping you could help interpret a particular IceMav scene in Top Gun (1986) that's quite peculiar to me.

During the "Who's the best pilot" banter when Ice and Mav have their first encounter, we see Ice all smiley and arrogant with each line EXCEPT when he says "You like to work alone." Notice his smile drops and the way he's looking at Mav which lingers for a while. So during this scene I'm wondering is Ice concerned about the squadrons safety with Mav since he's for himself OR do you think maybe Ice can relate to Mav on some level, and he's realizing they might have more in common than either think, like kindred spirits?

I'm sorry asks won't let me attach a gif or screenshot for scene reference.

That's okay, I know exactly what you're talking about.

(I'm sorry. I am taking this seriously, but these just happen to be the gifs I have on hand for this scene.)

I think your first read—that Ice is concerned for the safety of other pilots because Maverick isn't a team player—is much closer than the idea that Ice identifies with this trait of Maverick's. As we'll soon find out, Ice is very concerned with the interest of the collective, especially in his work. He sees the military as a team sport, and believes when people do not play as a team, people get hurt. Every argument he has with Maverick is about Maverick acting in what he thinks are his own best interests rather than the interests of the collective. When Ice says, "I heard that about you. You like to work alone," he is telling Maverick (and the audience) that, no matter what else he's heard about Maverick, his initial impression of him before they even meet is that Maverick is not going to play as a team, that he is not going to protect the collective, and that Ice sees this as a big problem.

There's also the additional baggage of Cougar. We don't know the exact nature of Ice's relationship with Cougar, but it's clear that Cougar was at one time important to Ice in some way. He says, "He and I were like brothers in flight school," and later he will approach Maverick and ask who was taking care of Cougar while Maverick was, "showboating with that MiG."

(We don't have enough evidence to fully understand Ice's relationship with Cougar, but what makes me think that they didn't part on great terms is that Ice consistently refers to him in the past tense. "He and I were like brothers in flight school." "He was a good man." Maverick reads that second line—and this is a popular fandom explanation, as well—as Ice saying, "Before he turned in his wings, while he was still a pilot, he was a good man," as in, now that Cougar has lost the edge and turned in his wings, Ice doesn't think he's good for much. That reading doesn't feel true to me. It's not just that Ice refers to Cougar in the past tense every time he brings him up, but we know from Ice's actions later that whether someone has the edge, whether they're willing to fly or not, is not important to Ice on a personal level.

After Goose's death, Ice attempts to comfort Maverick, to express his condolences, and even though he knows that Maverick is scrubbing out, that he gets in the plane and can't engage, that he is likely leaving the program and perhaps the Navy, Ice is the ONLY person who doesn't try to get Maverick back in a plane. He is concerned about Maverick on a personal level. We know this before Ice attempts to console him—something he is terrible at, something that makes him feel incredibly awkward and uncomfortable, but something he does anyway because he wants to help Maverick—because we see Ice watching him on the tarmac. He's keeping tabs on Maverick, watching to see how he's doing after the accident, and he gives a damn. The only time he gets uncomfortable about Maverick refusing to engage is when Maverick is supposed to be the only backup he has on a dangerous mission. And still he doesn't try to goad Maverick back into the cockpit. He goes to Stinger and tries to get Stinger to bench him, because he doesn't think Maverick is ready, and he doesn't want to put his life, Slider's life, Hollywood's and Wolf's lives on the line. Since he goes to Stinger and not Maverick, I would guess that he doesn't want to put Maverick under that kind of pressure, either, not until he's ready. (That is speculation on my part, however. Stinger cuts Ice off before he can say much.))

Okay, circling back around to the actual point of this post. When they meet in the O Club, Ice is all smiley and flirty and arrogant until he says, "I heard that about you. You like to work alone." He stops smiling. He gets serious. And I think what happens after that is just as notable: He stops speaking. He studies Maverick's face, trying to get a read on him. To see how his words landed, to see if his hunch is right. He hasn't already made his mind up about Maverick; he has a theory, but he is actively collecting more evidence before he decides whether it's right. He pushes Maverick, and then he waits. He watches his face to see how Maverick reacts, and he waits to let him speak, to hear him respond.

Only he doesn't get a chance. Slider cut into the conversation, breaking Ice's eye contact and putting his experiment on hold. They leave shortly after, but the next time Ice sees Maverick again, he does the same thing. He waits for him. He goads him, and then he waits for him to react. He doesn't like Maverick's non-answer about who was watching out for Cougar, and he shows it, and after that, his mind is more made up. When they meet again, it's after the first hop, and Ice has heard about Maverick breaking the rules of engagement during the exercise. When Maverick gets testy, Ice fires back right away, because, by this time, to him, Maverick has proven his initial theory correct: That Maverick is out for himself, and that putting the I in team gets people in this line of work killed.

#asks answered #top gun og #iceman kazansky

[translations-dark-matter]

Living as an Extra in an Omegaverse novel

Chapter 30

The intention to clearly block my path was evident. It was at that moment when I lifted my head to get a closer look at the approaching figure.

As soon as I saw the person's head tilt towards me, I quickly stepped back and tensed my body.

Various thoughts raced through my mind as I observed the face of the person who seemed impolite.

"Why is Ha Jin-seong in front of me?"

Why are they standing in front of my house? What's the reason for blocking my path? Could it be that they saw Shin Tae-oh drop me off?

"Do you remember my face?"

Whether it was the answer they sought from Se-hyeon's expression or not, Ha Jin-seong slowly straightened up their posture. Even though there was enough distance between us to breathe easily, for some reason, my chest felt constricted.

Unlike when I was with Shin Tae-oh, I found myself becoming increasingly tense. I swallowed the saliva that pooled in my mouth. I couldn't help but wonder why I felt so entangled in Ha Jin-seong's gaze, even though it wasn't the first time we had met. And then I realized the reason.

"It's different."

Unlike the previous encounter where they observed and prodded me, this time there was a clear purpose. My instincts, unwilling to be swayed by it, recoiled.

I had suspected it, and it turned out that Ha Jin-seong had been waiting here to see Se-hyeon.

I composed my expression, pretending to be nonchalant, and faced Ha Jin-seong. There was nothing to gain from showing any wavering here, so I suppressed my voice and asked, "What is it?"

"You didn't answer my question."

Their words annoyed me out of the blue. It was as if they had shamelessly come here as if we had recently met and engaged in conversation.

Given that they stated it was a question but didn't say anything else, it was probably meant for me to figure it out on my own. It was a statement that purely reflected Ha Jin-seong's impertinence.

In such situations, I usually had to recall the past to grasp what question they had asked.

"I'm not sure what you're referring to."

That wasn't it.

"And I don't care to know."

Ha Jin-seong listened attentively, as if trying to remember, but they weren't the kind of person I needed to jot down notes for fear of forgetting.

Ha Jin-seong was interpreting my response however they pleased, whether I was pretending not to care or genuinely not interested. Their tone seemed to suggest that they believed themselves to be the center of the world. Yet, the true protagonists of this world were Ha Min-hyuk and Yoo Jin-ha.

Ha Jin-seong tapped their lips thoughtfully. They remained calm and composed from beginning to end. It was enough to make anyone around them feel restless.

"I told you to come to me."

"If that's the case, I did answer at that time, but..."

"You were given time to think."

"Well, you see..."

Why was it so difficult to have a conversation?

"Tell me what you want."

It was at that moment, when I was contemplating how much more bluntly I needed to refuse due to my growing frustration. Among everything said so far, it was the most normal thing to say. So, I was asking what they wanted in order to scout them.

"I'll give you a house and a car."

"Even if you say that, my answer remains the same."

It was a proposal that didn't require any consideration from the start. When I first became Se-hyeon, I could have chosen Ha Jin-seong for the thoughts of a nice house, a car, and a lot of money. Driven by emotions, there might have been a chance to receive a house or a generous sum of money that I couldn't earn in a lifetime.

However, that wasn't what I wanted.

Stability.

I had simply sought the safest person in this novel and wanted to live honestly on a regular salary, not relying on hazard pay.

In that regard, Ha Jin-seong was someone I had to push away without a second thought.

"I decline."

"Is that because of loyalty? Or was my offer insufficient?"

Ha Jin-seong asked as if genuinely curious, then suddenly smirked. As their eyes creased with the smile, it resembled the smile of a fox.

So when asked if it bothered me, it meant that their dubious impression had softened, indicating that it was fine.

At this point, I gave up on taking Ha Jin-seong's words seriously.

I reached into my pocket and pulled out something I had kept handy, although it wasn't something I usually carried around. I had taken it with me while tidying up earlier.

"Think about it carefully. It's better to come in peace..."

I placed a candy in Ha Jin-seong's mouth, interrupting his continuous rambling.

With the sudden candy in his mouth, Ha Jin-seong's eyes rolled around. Blocking his mouth that had been spouting nonsense seemed to have had a positive effect.

In the tranquility of the alley, just like any other day, I released my tension. I had heard why Ha Jin-seong had come, so there was no need to remain on guard.

"It reminded me of something sweet when you mentioned it. Enjoy the candy and have a good day. As for me, I have to prepare to welcome our capable CEO Shin Tae-oh tomorrow, so I'll be heading in."

I summed it up, telling him to stop since I had no intention of going with him, and walked past him.

"I'll come again, so be prepared with a different answer next time."

I don't like it.

***

I changed into comfortable clothes and lay down on the bed. As I stared at the ceiling, I wondered what had happened today.

I had a fairly busy day, but the most memorable moment was:

"Do you... like gifts?"

The vivid memory of Taenyang's flickering eyes came to mind.

"Is it true?"

I turned my head and looked at the sink. Expensive dishes were stacked neatly in a pitiful cabinet, making a clinking sound.

Of course, they were bought by Shin Tae-oh, but I ended up bringing them to my own house instead of leaving them at his place. I had quietly brought quite a lot of things to my own home. Usually, secretaries wouldn't place such things in their own homes. Well, they wouldn't even consider going to a secretary's home.

In novels or dramas, secretaries always handle everything at their boss's house and disappear like shadows.

"Maybe I should stop."

I was truly grateful when Shin Tae-oh didn't demand my resignation, even though he knew my true identity. But now, I hesitated, wondering if it would be better to leave.

It seemed like Shin Tae-oh was genuinely interested in me.

"But that's not normal."

I shouldn't deviate from the original storyline.

And what hesitated me even more... was that I didn't think I could accept his feelings.

"I... can't."

I quickly got up and picked up the phone I had thrown to the side.

"Should I look for something new?"

I had some savings, and I could take a few months off without working.

Impulsively, I opened a job recruitment site and started browsing, but then my phone vibrated, and suddenly, my mother came to mind.

"Hello."

- Mom?

"Yes, what's the matter?"

- What's the matter? It's been so long since we last spoke, so I wanted to hear your voice too.

Has it been that long? I thought to myself as I aimlessly looked around the room. As I absentmindedly touched the buttons on the coffee machine, I remembered Shin Tae-oh's bewildered expression when he saw me doing this.

I smiled and then realized I was still on the call, so I refocused on my mother's voice. I thought the call had been disconnected because she didn't say anything after a while.

- By any chance, do you have some money?

There's something going on.

"Why... are you asking that?"

I knew it was difficult for her to bring it up, so I asked.

- Well, your father said he would go up the mountain despite the bad weather, and he slipped in the rain.

As soon as she mentioned that he slipped, I stood up from my seat.

"Is it serious? I'll go right away."

- Huh? No, it's not necessary. It's just that his ligament stretched a bit when he slipped, but it's not serious. However, during the examination, they found a very small lump, so they want to perform surgery.

"A lump?"

- Yes. It's bothering him, so he thought he could have surgery while he's at it... But, well, the cost is not insignificant. I should have gotten insurance or something, knowing this could happen.

As her words became longer, I could sense her hesitation due to burdening me.

"I actually received a bonus this time, which I was planning to send anyway. Don't worry and get the surgery. I'll find time to come and see you."

I quickly delivered my words and ended the call. In the atmosphere that had become heavier, as if accompanied by a renewed silence, I lay back on the bed without even having a chance to let out a sigh.

It seemed like I had to send the savings to my parents, and as for me...

"I will serve diligently."

I spoke politely while looking at the coffee machine.

Considering the money I had to send to my parents next month, I decided to continue working without a break.

***

"Good morning."

Shin Tae-oh, who was about to leave the house, stopped in his tracks at Se-hyeon's greeting and nodded his head.

"Why do you say that?"

"I feel like we've had a moment like this before."

Shin Tae-oh's gaze swept over Sehyun from head to toe, and then he stroked his chin.

"You were diligent before, but now you seem even more diligent and quick-witted. Did you make some kind of resolution yesterday?"

It was because I didn't want to quit, but I pretended not to know and tightly held onto my tablet.

"It's because I had a hearty breakfast."

I skipped breakfast due to my uneasiness, but it was a suitable excuse to throw around.

"Oh, the power of food. It's the power of rice, huh."

Shin Tae-oh nodded casually and then thrust a paper bag he was holding in one hand towards me.

"Take this."

It felt more like he was telling me to receive it rather than bringing it to me.

"Is this... a gift?"

"Yes."

Even though I said I wouldn't accept it.

Se-hyeon extended the item he had been holding in his hand towards me.

"I'm not planning to reject it without even looking at it, am I?"

"Ah..."

Is that so?

Come to think of it, I rejected it without even knowing what it was.

Se-hyeon obediently examined the contents inside the paper bag. A tumbler?

"What is this?"

"It's a nutritional powder."

Why is he giving me that?

"Because it's hard to work on an empty stomach. Eat it."

He left with just those words.

"What is this?"

What should I correct?

Is it that I have an empty stomach? Or is it that I think I can't refuse because it's a nutritional powder?

Prev / Next

[roman-cates]

"… I had friends, growing up. They were nice… usually. Have an older brother, too… We haven't talked in a few years though…Well… I guess now it's been maybe more than a few…"

Roman's family life really was the opposite of Bryce's. He can't imagine having a sibling and going more than a week without talking to them, much less years. He checks that his own mother is still alive more than once a year, and he would never give her the time of day.

"You told me you couldn't find any sort of missing persons report on me… You said it might have been because of something Avery did. I… I guess in the back of my mind, I'm just scared that maybe no one looked for me… is looking for me."

Bryce grip on his fork tightens. That does make way more sense than his own hypothesis, but it's infuriating. Bryce only really has one friend, but if he disappears, he knows there are people out there that wouldn't rest until his killer was found. Allies, not friends, but still.

It's better that no one is looking for Roman. Easier for him to disappear into a new identity. It's better that he doesn't have close ties he'll have to give up ever recovering.

"Shit, Roman…" It comes out with more pity than he wants it to. The sorrow is evident, too, though.

Roman give him a sort of smile. More sad and anxious than any other emotion, including happy, but the corners of his mouth do come up, so it probably counts. Bryce wants to reach out and grab his hand, at least, but he's eating with it. And it seems wrong, too.

He's still not sure why Roman decided to share any of this. Does he want confirmation that someone filed a report two years ago? Bryce could actually figure that out. It would be annoying, but if it was filed there's a paper copy somewhere he could get his hands on if he needs to. He considers offering, but what if Roman is right, and it doesn't exist? It the uncertainty better than knowing no one cares?

He decides not to bring it up.

"I'm sorry," he finally settles on. "I don't know what to say, but I'm sorry. If my si--I can't imagine what that must feel like."

Previous

"Shit, Roman…" Bryce sounds like he's pitying Roman. That's... not exactly what Roman wanted. What even did he want?

He's not really certain why he felt this was important to share... Part of him just wants Bryce to know him, though. Know him as something other than the weak, pathetic person he is right now... has been for so long now...

The pity in Bryce's tone says this was counterproductive to that purpose. Roman tries to smile, maybe to alleviate the pity, but it feels wrong. He knows it looks sad. And hurt. Probably anxious...

"I'm sorry. I don't know what to say, but I'm sorry. If my si--I can't imagine what that must feel like."

If my si--

Sister?

I've been dreaming about her. The funeral home. Our mother.

Before Roman really has time to think about what he's saying, he asks. "... Did you have a sister..?"

Even once he's said it, he doesn't really regret it... He probably gave away more than he meant to by asking that. By asking it in the past tense, too... He gives a half hearted apology. "Sorry... that's... I didn't mean to be invasive..."

#whump #whump roleplay #roleplay #whump rp #rp #roman cates #whumplr reader #whumpee

[radellama]

I don't think I'll ever be able to get over that specific kind of let down when you're trying to open up and explain the concept of something specific that you struggle with due to x condition or disorder and people just tell you everyone deals with that

#insert joke of 'I'm built different so i simply wouldn't struggle with x' #like man.. trying to open up and talk about stuff sucks cause no one is taking you seriously #i try to talk about anxiety and am rebuffed with 'everyone gets nervous sometimes' #but does everyone struggle with it so badly that you have to figure out your own loop holes and built yourself through feeling like shit #i try to explain what executive dysfunction is and it's all 'it's not that hard tho just do it' #but the point of what I'm saying is that you just can!! i can't i get stuck halfway through and can't progress on anything!! #i try to open up about depression and how this has been a lifelong thing that's evolved and constantly looms #and i get asked if it's just situational and that I'll get better when I'm out of certain situations #or told that I'm not trying hard enough get out of 'my funk'&that if i truly was so upset at being depressed I'd take efforts more seriously #trying to talk about autism or adhd is the worst because I've spent just under half my life researching it and trying to understand it #and been told by both my family and medical pros (who unfortunately weren't able to diagnose me) that i am?? #but because my parents were jack assess and i don't have any diagnosis it's all 'are you actually sure because x person i know..' #even with something like my issues around medical pros..i don't know if it's really accurate but honestly.. my medical trauma #that is fucking concrete!!! yet it still gets argued against! #i was ignored and talked over and kept out of the loop and told I'm not reacting properly #i had illnesses that should've been taken care of when i first went in to get help.. yet they became chronic because i wasn't tended to #in the way that i needed #that is just objective hard fact. yet it was still up for debate apparently #because drs aren't that bad they wouldn't do that #even though the personal evidence I'm giving is past tense #i dunno man I'm really feeling it tonight #i hate being talked over and fucking dismissed and what seems to be purposefully misunderstood

[andreafmn]

I'm Not Afraid - Chapter 1

Word Count: 3,325

Characters: Female Reader Argent Character, Original Male Argent Character, Derek Hale, Allison Argent, Scott McCall, Stiles Stilinski, Isaac Lahey, Lydia Martin, Chris Argent, Jackson Whittemore

Story Description: (Y/N) Argent arrived at Beacon Hills to put to rest her father's sister, Kate Argent. For the first time, her family has decided to settle down and sustain a life in this interesting small town. After 17 years, (Y/N) has the opportunity to establish interpersonal relationships but will she be ready to face the complications that come with relating to her cousin's, Allison, friends; especially, the infamous Derek Hale. She will face the adventure of being associated with the Derek and McCall pack as well as being faced with the discovery of certain aspects of her life she never imagined.

*DISCLAIMER* I do not own in any way Teen Wolf, all credits of the pre-established characters, script, and storyline belong to Jeff Davis and MTV Network. The only thing I own is Argent Reader insert, her immediate family, and her storyline, as well as her effects in the others' storyline.

Chapter: 1/?

Chapter Description: (Y/N) finally arrives at Beacon Hills for the funeral of her aunt and meets a certain wolf to which she feels a special connection.

A/N: Second fandom I'm writing for. I love Teen Wolf so much and the trope of hard Derek but only soft for you makes my heart sing. If you enjoy my writing I’ll also be posting them in AO3 and Wattpad along with other stories (I also hope to start taking requests if ya’ll want) Hope you enjoy and all constructive criticism is encouraged.

Next ->

Chapter 1

I hugged the black coat to my body as hard as I could whilst pushing through the sea of press. Our family's last name became quite known after the reports about my aunt, whose burial we were attending. She had allegedly burned down a house with people in it.  She killed them in cold blood. I hugged my grieving uncle and his less grieving wife, then my cousin who had a painful look on her face. I hugged her the longest. She let herself crumble on my arms, sobbing uncontrollably. Even though she was a horrible person she was still our aunt, family.

I took my seat behind Allison when my father, my mother, uncle Chris, and aunt Victoria stood up. Allison didn't lift her head and neither did I. I just tried to comfort her.

"It's been such a long time I don't expect you to call me grandpa." We both looked up to see a white-haired man who resembled the Argent features. "Don't worry about it, just call me Gerard." He hugged both of us, an overpowering aura emanating from his being. When we were engulfed, I looked to the side and saw two boys squatting behind a gravestone. If they were hiding, they were doing a horrible job at it.

"But I prefer Grandpa," Gerard said walking to his seat. I sat back down and drifted off during the whole ceremony. Once it was over, I joined my parents and we drove to our new house. I have a feeling that life here will be very interesting.

That weekend I decided that I had been putting working out off for too long. I changed into comfortable workout clothes and gave food to my dog, Brody. I headed out the door, put my earbuds on, and started to jog. I really didn't know where I was going since it was a new place for me, all I know is that I kept running until I reached the woods. The bad thing about this, I had no idea how to get back home. Even though I knew of this sidetrack and I knew I would be late to get back home, I kept running, needing a release from the mundane feeling of being new in town and having to reunite from our estranged family in a funeral.

I had gained a lot of momentum. God knows how fast I was running at this point that is until I hit something, it almost felt like a wall. When I looked up, I saw a very handsome guy. Spiked hair, green eyes, and slight stubble. If it weren't for the fact that I was already sweaty I would have started to sweat showers of how nervous I was. That is until he opened his mouth.

"Watch where you're going." He growled at me.

"How about you fucking move and not be a prick?" He looked at me with big eyes, probably in surprise, but quickly changed to his menacing look. Who was he trying to fool?

"Well, this is private property, which means that you're trespassing, meaning you should pay more attention to your surroundings."

"I'm sorry but a burnt-down house with almost no walls or roof is barely a property. So, how about you stop being an idiot and I can be on my way." I started to jog once again but he gained my attention once more.

"You're new here, aren't you?" I turned around to face him.

"What's it to you?" He raised his eyebrow.

"I'll take that as a yes." The cockiness oozed out of his pores.

"And why the hell should that matter?"

"Because no one would dare talk to me that way."

"Who would be afraid of a little sour wolf?" He tensed up. "Dude, chill. I'm just kidding. But I doubt anyone would be afraid of Mr...."

"Hale. Derek Hale." He said extending his hand to me. Gee, after screaming at me he wants us to be acquaintances. I thought about not shaking his hand, but I didn't want to be rude. Well, more than I have been already.

"(Y/N). Argent." I shook his hand. Strong grip. Suddenly I felt a rush of déjà vu; I had met him the day before. "Wait, aren't you that guy I accidentally hit with my grocery cart yesterday?"

"Yeah, that really hurt. You hit my ankle. You could've had me limping."

"But you're not, so be grateful I didn't break your ankle." He laughed. "Damn, if I had known how cocky you really were, I would've hit you harder."

"So, you admit that you hit me?"

"Oh yeah, of course, I hit you. Accidentally that is."

"Yeah, yeah."

I looked around trying to find where the hell I had come from but there wasn't even the slightest trail as to where I was to go.

"So, miss (Y/N). Do you even know your way home?"

"No, but I'm sure I can find my way back." Then, he took keys out of his pocket and pointed to his car.

"Come on, I'll drive you around and you just tell me when something seems familiar."

"And why should I go with the guy that almost ripped out my throat for bumping into him? For all I know you could be driving me to my death." I crossed my arms over my chest, and he let out a loud sigh.

"Look, I'm sorry for snapping. But I'm trying to be nice. That doesn't happen very often."

"Alright, Mr. Hale. I'll let you take me home just because you are being nice now, after being a prick, and I'm exhausted."

"See, no one can resist me." I rolled my eyes at his cockiness. Seriously does he buy cans of it on eBay?

"Don't get cocky with me. I can punch the living daylights out of you." He chuckled and started to drive.

We drove for about 20 minutes until I finally recognized the curb that led to my house. Upon arriving at my driveway, I got out of the car and walked to the driver’s side.

"Give me your hand” For some reason, I felt compelled to do so. He took a pen and wrote down a number. "Call me if you ever need a tour of the town."

Three weeks later, I walked inside the school to meet up with Allison. I moved here with my family since dad had some business taking float. Being the new kid in town is never fun. I would know. I switch schools almost every year. The pro and con about this would be not being attached to anyone. Usually, I'm the one who doesn't talk to anyone and is called a freak. A derogatory term given to people who are way too different from others, but a title I wore proudly.

"Oh my gosh, (Y/N)! How have you been?" Allison wrapped her arms around me and hugged me tightly. It was as if she hadn't seen me just three weeks ago.

"Hi, Allison. I've been good, getting acclimated to the new town. You?" You would think that because we were cousins, I would be more affectionate towards her but honestly, I wouldn't see her again for like three more years, so what's the point?

"I'm good. A little rocky at the start of coming here but good." Then, a boy with a buzz cut and one with great brown hair walked by and smiled at Alli. "Ooh, you should come meet my friends. Stiles, Scott!! Come here." The boys turned around with goofy grins on their faces.

"Hey, Allison. Who's this?" Buzzcut kid said.

"This is my cousin, (Y/N). She just moved here from Virginia."

"Pleasure to meet you. I'm Scott." The one with the great hair said.

"Nice to meet you, I'm Stiles." I shook their hands and smiled.

"Nice to meet you, too, buzzcut." Allison and Scott laughed but Stiles only ran his hand through his hair, suddenly becoming hyperaware of his lack of locks.

"Allison. Who might this sexy lady be?" I rolled my eyes. The last thing I need is a narcissist with a god-complex trying to get close.

"Oh, Jackson, this is my cousin, (Y/N)."

"Hi." He extended his hand and looked me up and down.

"Hi." I smiled sarcastically, and when I didn't extend my hand, he dropped his.

Finally, after standing awkwardly behind Allison whilst her friends talked, the bell rang. Talk about saved by the bell.

"Hey, (Y/N), what's your first class?" I checked my schedule.

"Um, chemistry."

"Oh, good, then you're coming with us to Mr. Harris' class," Scott said pointing towards him and Stiles. I smiled and walked behind them.

Once we got to the classroom everyone turned to me, the ever-present sign of being new in the class evident in the stare of my classmates.

"Um, hi, my name is (Y/N) Argent and I'm new." The teacher, whom I guess is Mr. Harris, turned around to face me.

"Oh, yes, Miss Argent. Welcome. You will be sitting next to Isaac Lahey. Lahey, raise your hand." Once Isaac raised his hand, I noticed he was sat near Stiles and Scott. Two people I was trying to avoid. As I walked past, I accidentally pushed Stiles' book on his lap, startling him, resulting in an awkward descent from his lab stool onto the floor.

"Hi, again. I guess we are gonna see a lot of each other for the rest of the school year." I nodded and he scratched the back of his neck. "So, um, what school did you come from?"

"Lancaster High," I responded whilst writing down what Mr. Harris was writing on the board. Stiles kept trying to talk to me, but I would only give him short, cold answers or just ignore him. That is until Mr. Harris called our attention, that's when he finally got the memo to shut up.

"I'm sorry to bother you, but I just wanted to introduce myself since we're gonna be seated next to each other all year. I'm Isaac."

"I figured." I tried giving him my best smile. The vibe he was giving off seemed like he needed it. "I'm (Y/N)."

"Well, nice to meet you, (Y/N). Now I'll leave you to the class because if I don't I know I'll be failing even more than I am."

"Oh, well, maybe I can tutor you some time. I'm actually really good at science. My mom was a chemist professor once upon a time so I'm bound to understand all this."

"Really?!" His puppy eyes seemed to light up and I nodded. "That would actually be amazing."

"Sure thing. Now let's get back to class."

After Chemistry finished, I put everything in my bag as quickly as possible and sped to my next class, Math. Thankfully, none of Allison's friends shared this class with me but I did share it with Isaac.  I didn't consider him much a friend but more an acquaintance in desperate need of help.

As the day progressed, I noticed the rest of my classes were shared with one or more of Allison's friends. They all tried to strike up a conversation but were quickly discouraged when met with my one-worded or vague answers. Especially, Stiles. He tried especially hard to get answers out of me, only being met with the occasional laugh or stare at his comical occurrences. He seemed like the kind of person you could just open up to. The same could be said about Scott. His shy nature was alluring, and he portrayed himself as a very trustworthy and loyal being.

But I would not allow myself to let them in. My whole being yearned for a real friendship, someone to share nothing and everything; never again.

At lunch, I sat outside and ate my food quietly, a book in front of my face to shield my eyes from the sun the prevalent stares of my peers. After some minutes of appreciated loneliness, the empty table was filled with conversating teenage bodies. I smiled politely but, in my mind, I was cursing them out.

"So, (Y/N), how's your day been?" Allison asked whilst munching on an apple. I swallowed what was left of my bite and answered.

"Fine, thank you." This time no one pressed on after my short answers, finally getting the hint of my disinterest. In the corner of my eye, I saw Isaac sitting under a tree munching on half a sandwich. I excused myself and went to join him, heavily enjoying his tranquil aura.

"Oh, hi, (Y/N)." He smiled sheepishly.

"Hey, Isaac. Is that all you're eating?"

"Yeah. I'm not very hungry." He looked down as if he were ashamed.

"Nonsense! Here," I gave him the other half of my burger and another bag of chips I had in my bag. "You can't tell me you're not hungry. You're a boy in peak development."

"Thanks." He smiled as he continued munching on his food. I put on some music and we continued eating in silence. No conversation required.

The day went on smoother than it started. Classes flew by fairly quickly and the incessant chit-chat seemed to diminish. During last period I was like every other student, anxiously waiting for the bell to signal the end of the school day. When my pleads were answered, I packed the necessary book into my bag and left the rest in my locker, expertly avoiding any more social encounters. Quickly, I made my way to the waiting open car door of my father's car, ignoring Allison's beckoning me t.wards the small group of friends.

"How was your first day, darling?" My father spoke up breaking my attention from the scenery.

"Like any other first day I've had." I smiled. "The towns might change but school is always the same."

Finally at home, we were greeted with the sight of my mother cooking; people were coming over.

"(Y/N), honey, Chris, Victoria, and Allison are coming over tonight. So, go do a quick workout and come back to get ready." I nodded and ran to my room to change into workout clothes.

My routine would normally consist of waking up, working out, go to school for a dreading eight hours, come back home, workout again, do my homework, eat, and go to sleep. I lead a very monotonous life and it had been this way since I could remember. One of my earliest memories was of my father teaching me archery alongside Allison, a great distraction to our always disrupted home life. As I got older, my father started training me in boxing and knife maneuvering. How would these skills help me in life were still a mystery but I felt safe knowing them.

I got changed and decided to take Brody out with me on a quick jog through the woods. "Hey, boy, ready to go?"

He jumped on me which I took as a yes and started for the woods. We ran down the same trail I had been going on for the past three weeks. Mostly, I went down this track in hopes that Derek would make an appearance, and today was not the exception. As the ruins of his house came to view so did his tall figure.

"Trespassing again?"

"It doesn't count if I know the owner." During our greeting, Brody's leash slipped out of my hand and he ran to jump on Derek, leaving slobbering licks on his cheek. "I'm so sorry."

"Don't worry about it." He chuckled and helped me bring him down.

"I guess he likes you, even though he doesn't like anyone but me. Guess you're special."

"Maybe." He grinned.

Out of nowhere, I hit him in the shoulder. "What was that for?!"

"For trying to run me over with your shopping cart two days ago. It was uncalled for."

"No, it was revenge. You hit ME first. In the ankle."

"You're still on with that. Come on, sour wolf. That happened three weeks ago, and it was an accident."

"Whatever. Come on, I'll give you a ride home. It's getting kind of dark." This had also become part of my routine. After "bumping" into Derek he would offer to drop me off at my house, claiming it was for security.

"Okay, we're here. By the way, the offer to show you around town is still up. Just call me whenever." He said as he stopped the car in front of my house.

"Alright, will do, and thanks for the ride, Derek. I'd invite you in, but my family is coming over."

"No worries, maybe another time."

"It's a date. Anyways, thanks again. See you when I see you."

"Okay, goodnight."

"Night." He waited until I entered the house and drove away.

"Munchkin, is that you?" My father screamed from the kitchen.

"Yeah!" I screamed back.

"Okay, well, go take a shower and get ready your uncle will get here soon."

I hurried up the stairs and hopped in the shower letting the hot water stream down my body calming any aching muscle that was palpitating. In my room, I searched through my closet for an acceptable family dinner outfit, deciding a grey sweater and black jeans would be enough. I braided my hair out of my face and went downstairs to help my mother set the table.

After we put the last plate the doorbell rang.

"I'll get it!" I ran to the door and was greeted by my uncle. "Uncle Chris!" I jumped and he hugged me. There was no doubt that he was my favorite family member, his presence was always welcoming. His wife on the other hand was as cold as the winters we spent in New York. She was nice but absolutely scary. "Hi, Aunt Victoria."

"Hello, (Y/N)." I hugged her and said hi to Allison.

"Come in, guys." They walked in and I closed the door behind them.

"So, (Y/N), how have you been?" Uncle Chris asked while stuffing his mouth with mom's famous lasagna.

"I've been good. I mean, moving all the time takes a toll on you at first, but I got used to it. It's easy now to pack it all up once the school year ends."

"Oh, honey, that must be so hard on you," Victoria said. I could not read her tone, her words spoke in sympathetic notes with an underlying melody of sarcasm.  Not knowing what to answer, I bit my lip and nodded.

The whole evening was spent on us catching up and eating, laughing, playing games, but the good times came to an end when the clock hit 9:00 pm. It was stupid to set a curfew, but my mom usually had everyone in bed at this time, 10:30 as of late.

"You better come around the house more often." Uncle Chris demanded and hugged me.

"Yes, sir." I raised my hand to my eyebrow and saluted, as did he.

"Let's go, Chris. And thank you for the lovely dinner, Rebecca," Victoria said linking arms with my uncle and smiling at mom.

"No problem. Come by any time." They talked for a bit more and after they left, I went upstairs to change for bed.

"Momma, I'm gonna go to sleep."

"Okay, honey. Goodnight." I went upstairs, brushed my teeth, and put my hair in a ponytail.

Before bed, I made sure everything I would need for the next day was packed into my bag and made sure my alarm was set. I pulled all the throw pillows from my bed and set them aside, then making my way to the window to draw the curtains. Something caught my attention in the backyard, though. My eyes squinted trying to make out the figure in front of me. Blinking the confusion away, I made a double-take and looked back at an empty yard. I laughed to myself as I crept into bed. Why would Derek be in my backyard?

Next ->

#derek hale #derek hale imagine #stiles stilinski #derek hale x reader #teen wolf imagine #teen wolf smut #derek hale smut #scott mccall imagine #scott mccall #lydia martin #allison argent #chris argent #jackson whittemore #fanfiction #ao3 #wattpad #writing #isaac lahey #isaac lahey x reader #reader insert

[trashytoastboi]

•Request: Could you please do a fluff/horny reaction of Law, Zoro and Ace like having an argument with S/O cause she is jealous or kinda insecure and ends with having a happy sex ending?

@paulanamikaze

(Female Pronouns)

NSFWish Headcanons: Law, Zoro, Ace x F! S/O – Having an argument and 'making it up' to her

Warning: NSFW (Only at the end, pretty SFW otherwise)

Trafalgar Law

🍄“You never let me do anything!” {Name} raised her voice a little too much, getting angry with the fact that Law never allowed her to fight or even help the crew out with anything he deemed dangerous, “Don't yell at me {Name-ya}” Law stated harshly, feeling his own anger creeping, locking the two in a silent glare as she huffed out a heavy sigh. “You're too overbearing” she muttered, with Law opting to leave the tense atmosphere and slamming the door behind him.

🍄{Name} folded her arms over her chest and slumped into the nearest seat, feeling unsettled by the agitation, though the initial bout of anger started to turn into insecurity, thinking that Law saw her as incapable and that is why he never let her do anything. “I'm a person, not an ornament Law...” {Name} murmured to herself.

🍄Law sighed, rubbing his temples with his fingers feeling assaulted by quite a bad headache. Why didn't {Name} understand? He always stopped her from joining in on fights because he was protecting her, he hated it enough having to patch up his crew after every scuffle and he really did not want to have to see her injured.

🍄Law was making his rounds on the ship, restless and unable to sit down in one place for too long as he walked past he caught the sound of Bepo and {Name} talking, seeing her snuggling into his floof for comfort. Her face showed evidence of crying and Law felt really bad especially when she heard her explanation to Bepo. “I just feel that Law sees me as incapable of doing anything...I just feel like a burden to him.”

🍄Law felt his heart clutch with guilt, now seeing why she got so angry and where the misunderstanding was lying. He called out to her, seeing {Name} jolt in fright as she followed him. {Name} seemed sad and ready to fight.

🍄Law pulled her into his arms, “I'm sorry {Name-ya} I wasn't thinking...I didn't consider how I was making you feel. I only do it to keep you safe, I don't want to see you hurt” Law spilled everything, knowing that him keeping it to himself was doing more harm than good. {Name} felt relieved and sank into his arms murmuring a soft apology of her own for getting so angry and not understanding.

🍄🍋Law kissed {Name} again, holding her tightly as he pressed her body against his, a well driven passion overtook Law as his lips attacked her neck. Hands making quick work of peeling her clothes off as his fingers dipped into her underwear, making her mewl with a lustful voice that only encouraged him further. Law's mouth travels further down, kissing and nipping the flesh, his eyes looked up at her, his speed slowing down as he kissed her thighs, lavishing them with attention. Law's fingers dig slightly into her skin, pulling her thighs apart as he settles between them, pressing another kiss against the sensitive skin “Forgive me {Name-ya?}” Law pleads as she bites her lip and nods, unable to find words.

Roronoa Zoro

⚔It was a bit harsh when Zoro suddenly snapped at {Name} in the middle of a fight, calling her weak and shoving her out of range of the fight. It was hurtful and notably so, since {Name} refused to talk to Zoro after the fight, giving him silent treatment.

⚔{Name} couldn't help but feel quite terrible at the fact that Zoro, of all people, called her weak and given the setting....it felt more like humiliation than anything. She began to wonder if this is what Zoro had always thought of her and insecurity began to set in, making her believe that Zoro may have only been with her out of pity.

⚔Zoro grew annoyed with {Name's} constant avoidance and silent treatment, the way she seemed to scuttle away the moment he came into a room and even shying away from any and all of his touches.

⚔Doing the only thing he can, Zoro caught {Name} by surprise, demanding to know the reason for her behaviour when {Name} explained everything, saying that she felt horrible after he called her weak and she began to wonder what else he could of thought of her and none of it was positive. Zoro had no clue that she was feeling that way and felt guilty, now knowing it was his words that were the cause. Zoro explained why he had said that, and it was not directed at her, but more for her safety. Thinking that if he could get the enemies attention on him and only him, no harm would come to her.

⚔“I apologise {Name}, I really had no idea that it was hurting you” Zoro apologised sincerely, pulling her into a hug that was welcomed, feeling {Name's} arms wrapping around him and making him a little relieved that she isn't pulling away from him.

⚔{Name} looks at him, expectantly as if waiting for something when he presses a kiss to her forehead which seems to earn a purr of contentment from {Name}, still looking at Zoro with a playful pout “You better make it up to me” she jests as Zoro smirks “Gladly”

⚔🍋“Z-Zoro...” {Name} whined out shakily, her hands tangling in the sheets as her body trembled with the pleasure that overtook her body. Zoro grinned, pulling her towards him, her back against his chest as his teeth sank into her shoulder, “Feeling good {Name}?” He chuckles, thrusting harder as she whines, falling down to the bed. His large hand slapping her ass causing {Name} to yelp from the sudden impact as Zoro presses his weight into her, placing kisses along her back as his grip tightens on her hips. “I'll make it up to you, as long as you want” Zoro grins

Portgas D. Ace

🔥{Name} was looking forward to being able to spend the day with Ace, but Ace is well known, and charming...it's not surprising that people tend to flock to him. Not the best mix when wanting to have a date and spend some time together, at one point the two of them got separated and when {Name} finally found him again, Ace was surrounded by a large crowd of women and he was entertaining their nonsense.

🔥She was a bit annoyed at this situation, but still thought that they could spend the rest of the day together. {Name} tried to call to Ace, and get his attention which was drowned out by the crowd, she was a little upset and turned back to head to the ship. Seeing that Ace wasn't even looking for her, rather just entertaining the women there. {Name} was feeling bad and insecure, Ace could literally has his pick of anyone.

🔥Ace eventually wandered back to the ship, full of giggles and a little tipsy before he comes stumbling into the room and spots {Name} on the bed. He smiles, collapsing to the soft surface and shuffling up to {Name} “Give me love {Name}~” he giggles, only for her to snub him and push him off. “Why don't you go ask one of those other women to give you attention?” {Name} states with evident anger in her voice.

🔥He couldn't help but get a little irritated at her insinuation, feeing a bit irritated that {Name} would doubt his loyalty. “What the hell {Name}?” Ace groans out, stating that she was the one that disappeared when Ace suddenly clicks, his anger instantly overtaken by amusement. “Oh...You're jealous” at his words he saw {Name} frown which only substantiated his claim.

🔥Ace presses his lips to hers “Baby~ don't be angry, I'm sorry” Ace apologises sincerely, casting some puppy dog eyes at {Name} which made her feel bad for being so angry and jealous, she plants a quick kiss to his nose and mumbles out a “Sorry...”

🔥Ace smiles, pulling her into him as he peppers her face with kisses. “I love you, you know that right?” Ace says seriously, with no hint of jest in his voice making {Name} blush and nod, still feeling slightly bad that she got so angry with him.

🔥🍋Pulling {Name} into his lap, Ace grins with a hint of something devious behind his smile. Kissing {Name} as his hands slip into her clothes, pulling them off. {Name} bites her lip to stifle a moan at the sudden contact of Ace's hands on her hips, pulling her down as he grinds against her, making sure she can feel exactly what she does to him. “I want you on top tonight” Ace states between kisses, biting her lip and looking into her eyes. “Come on baby, show me who I belong to”

#one piece #Trafalgar Law #roronoa Zoro #portgas d Ace #TrashyToastBoi #one piece headcanons #one piece imagines #one piece scenarios #one piece scenario #trafalgar d water law #trafalgar d. water law #trafalgardwaterlaw #trafalgar one piece #trafalgar law #one piece zoro #ronoroa zoro #roronoa zoro #op zoro #zoro #zorojuro #pirate hunter zoro #ace one piece #one piece ace #fire fist ace #portgas d ace #portgas d. ace #ns.fw #lemon #smut #unholy toast

[catzula]

(Don't) Let me be the judge of that

a/n: enemies to lovers w Osamu. Nothing more to say.

genre: mostly fluff, enemies to lovers au, fem!reader

warnings: Osamu being an ass in the beginning, swearing, mentions of social anxiety, 5.6k

《Synopsis: Osamu Miya is too judgemental for his own good, never accepting he's simply wrong. You're here to change that.》

Osamu Miya had a habit of judging people. It would take him one look and a few seconds to decide whether he liked someone or not, the answer often being the latter. But the worst part was just how stubborn and maybe a bit self-centered Osamu was. He trusted himself a little too much, and it was impossible to change his opinion of someone after he had made up his mind, and if he didn't like someone, that was it, he would never grow to like them.

Or so everyone -including Osamu himself- thought until you entered his life.

~

You weren't surprised to feel the brown pair of eyes looking your way when your professor announced the project was in pairs. "Decide on your partners until the end of the hour and give me a list of the groups." He told the class and leaned back in his chair.

"Y/N!" You heard him before you saw him, a mop of bleached blond hair coming into your view right after. "Hi, Atsumu." You offered him a smile as you pocketed your phone, tilting your head when he frowned in response. "I already told you, Y/N, it's 'Tsumu to you!"

"Why?" You sighed annoyedly. Having had the conversation once before, you knew damn well he wouldn't stop until you did what he wanted, but you still chose to resist.

"Because," the boy whined, "it's a sign of our friendship. Only my friends and 'Samu call me that, and I want you to call me by my nickname, too." You chose not to talk about how he excluded his twin from his friends, knowing that would only lead to another argument. 

"Who even came up with this stupid name? It doesn't make any sense, it's only one syllable shorter, and it's even harder to say!" Atsumu's warm-brown eyes narrowed. "It's not stupid!" He protested, pouting until you gave up.

"Okay, okay, whatever. 'Tsumu-kun. There, happy?"

"Tsumu." The blond corrected with a grin.

"Kun." You added (to rile him up)

"Only Tsumu, goddammit! We're close enough."

"Are we, though? We only know each other for... what? A week?"

"A month!" Atsumu gasped as he corrected you. "And it doesn't matter how long we know each other, okay? It's a matter of how well we connect." His frown got deeper when you made a face, muttering something about him being cheesy, so he decided to switch strategies.

"But you always call me by my name when we're alone, Y/N-chan." Words spoken as flirtatiously as possible, Atsumu never missed the chance to tease you.

"A-atsumu, what the fuck, don't make it sound weird!" You exclaimed, already aware of the murmurs starting to spread around the room and the eyes turning on you both.

"There we go," Atsumu grinned when he heard his name falling from your lips, "wasn't that hard, was it?"

"You just had to be a little shit." You sighed, and his grin only spread wider. "I am a little shit, aren't I? Thank god I'm handsome. Anyway, I'm writing our names down." 

"It feels like we're getting married, seeing our names standing next to each other like this." He sighed, wiping the nonexistent tears from the corner of his eyes as he handed the paper to the person sitting behind you. You heard someone gasp at his words, and you never wanted to hit someone with a chair this much in your life.

"Shut the hell up!" You whisper-yelled, only feeling your anger growing when he sent you an innocent look. "What? I'm just saying-"

"I swear to god," You flared, "I'll tell everyone that one time you ran out of the library screaming when you saw a cockroach if you don't shut up." His grin disappeared as soon as you spoke the words, eyes widening and mouth shutting.

"You promised to never talk about it!" You had to admit that it did feel powerful to see him so panicked, face flushed, the sleazy look that was almost always in his eyes nonexistent and replaced with something similar to fear.

"It's up to you wether I talk about it or not." You shrugged.

~~~

"Woah, you look tired." You heard a familiar voice say as he plopped right next to you on the bench, holding a homemade bento in his hands, wrapped too neatly to be made by him.

"And whose fault is that?" You muttered, trying to conceal your murderous intent towards him. Even just thinking about your day gave you headaches. You groaned when he shrugged, focusing on unwrapping the bento box. "Yours, idiot!" 

"What did I d-" You winced when he spoke after taking a big spoon of rice and showing you everything that was in his mouth. 

"Your fans wont let me be! Ever since we started hanging out, it's almost like I'm being harassed."

"That's not necesarrily my fault." Atsumu shrugged, proceeding with another bite of his food. 

"It is, actually. I know you like to tease me, but if you keep saying shit like 'oh look our names together, feels like we're getting married' or that fucking 'you call me by my name when we're alone' you make it worse! You know how many people came up to me and asked if we were sleeping? One even asked me if we were engaged! We've known each other for two weeks, for god's sake!"

"A month." Atsumu corrected, shutting up when you sent him a look. "That's not even the worst part. Whenever I don't give an answer, or the answer they want to hear from me, people start to-" 

They started to get mean. Some even insulted you without batting an eye, speaking of how you weren't even pretty, that you had to be sleeping with Atsumu to be near him, and many fucking more.

"What?" He asked. "People started to what?" You knew he could sense how tense you were starting to get, but you always started to fight with him whenever he asked if people were bothering you, never answering his question, despite the answer being obvious. 

"Nothing, its just frustrating." You shrugged, taking a bite out of your meal to stop yourself from talking -or crying-. 

"Look, I can guess what's going on." Atsumu sighed, "and the only reason I can think of of you not telling me what's happening is that you don't want me to interfere, but you should tell them to piss off, already." He advised you the same stupid sentence he had been advising the past few days, ever since he noticed how his fans acted towards you. 

"Yeah, thanks for the advice, jackass. It would be easier if you stopped being so extra." You muttered into your cup full of coffee, feeling a tinge of guilt, putting the whole blame on him and not admitting you probably should tell people to mind their business already.

But you just weren't the type of person that was comfortable with talking to people you didn't know or know well enough, and you certainly weren't going to tell people to 'piss off' so comfortably.

You gulped when he sighed. "Okay, sorry, you're right, and I went overboard. But I gotta go to training now. It'll end around 5 p.m, so come to my place at 6?" He raised to his feet as he took one last sip of his drink when he finished his food.

"And if anyone asks you if we're married again, you have my permission to say yes." He grinned, patting your hair twice before you rolled your eyes, but couldn't stop a giggle from escaping your lips. "Oh, thank you, gracious lord." You cried out dramatically, scoffing when he pinched your cheek. "Exactly."

~~~

"I'm going into shower." Atsumu announced as Osamu shuffled through the fridge. 

"And?" The grey-haired twin asked from the fridge without pulling back, locating the eggs, and taking some out. "Do you want my help or something?

He expected an equally sarcastic comment from his brother, lifting his head as he closed the door of the fridge. "Cook for 3 today, a friend's coming over." He heard him say instead.

"A friend?" Osamu quirked his brow, ready to laugh given the punchline, but it never came.

"Yep." His twin answered instead, popping the p like some idiot middle schooler. "She's nice, you'll like her." He grinned, and Samu was already sure that wouldn't be the case. "Is this the girl ya can't stop talking about?"

Osamu couldn't say he wasn't interested since it was rare to see his brother drawn to anything but himself and volleyball, especially not to a girl. And judging by how Atsumu spoke about you, it was evident he had a particular liking to you.

The smug grin on Atsumu's face gave Osamu his answer, to which he grimaced. "don't wanna hear a fucking sound."

"She's coming over to study, you pervert! We have a project together."

"Yeah, whatever, I said what I said." Osamu shrugged, turning his back to Atsumu and started to chop the vegetables, unable to shake off the unlucky feeling pooling in his stomach.

~~~

"Oi, shit-head, does yer friend have any allergies or somethin'?" Osamu knocked on the bathroom door that had steam coming from the gap beneath it. He waited as Atsumu closed the water. "Eh, I'm not sure." 

"Yer not sure? How long do you even know her?"

"A month." Atsumu answered, turning the water back on. A month? It wasn't like Atsumu didn't get close to a girl he knew for such a short time, but Osamu had never, ever seen Atsumu bring a girl home.

"Hurry up, already, what the hell are you even doing in there?!" Osamu shouted, knocking on the bathroom door and holding back an urge to kick down the door when he heard the happy humms of his brothers.

"Oi, idiot, I'm telling you- goddammit." He clenched his teeth when he heard the doorbell. 

"Hurry up or you're not eating." Osamu knocked one last time before he rushed to the door to let you in. 

He opened the door without thinking of opening the lights as well, and since it was well after the sun had set, he couldn't see what you looked like, but he knew he wasn't expecting- well, you.

You were bent forward, trying to undo the messy knot your shoelaces had formed when the door opened. Sending a glance at the silhouette standing at the door, you turned your attention back to untying the mess your shoes were. 

"Hey, Atsumu." You muttered without taking another look, assuming it was Atsumu who had greeted you. You didn't see how Osamu's face soured, dark-grey eyes narrowing at your form with some hostility he couldn't help.

In your defense, the light wasn't on, and you hadn't taken a good look at the boy standing before you, so it wasn't exactly your fault for not realizing it was Osamu, right?

No.

Strike one.

Osamu hated when people mixed him with Atsumu. Did they not see the bright platinum gray hair, clearly different from his twins piss colored one? Osamu hadn't dyed his hair for the sake of looking nice, and he certainly hadn't sat in the hairdresser for hours long just to get mixed up with his twin again.

You had noticed your mistake as soon as you stood up and looked at the tall figure staring at you, leaning on the door frame and his arms tied on his chest almost defensively. "O-oh," Osamu heard you mutter softly, not sure as to why your voice sent goosebumps down his arms. "You're not Atsumu."

The somewhat disappointed tone of your voice made him furrow his brows. The smile you had on your lips dropped as soon as you locked eyes with the grey ones, familiar yet strange, and Osamu could feel himself getting more irked by the second.

The truth was, you weren't exactly disappointed, mostly embarrassed and a little surprised, although the unsatisfied look his eyes held kept making you even more nervous. He waited as your eyes wandered over his face, over the scowl resting on his lips, looking so mean and hostile, you found yourself taking a defensive step away from him.

"I- uh," Osamu's scowl didn't move an inch when you forced a smile at him, and you checked the time on your phone to break the eye contact. "Atsumu told me to come by at 6, and... is he- is he home?"

"Yeah," The boy talked for the first time, and you noticed how his voice was deeper than his twin's. It was nicer, too, you thought. "He's in the shower, though he should be-"

"Y/N, you're here!" You heard the twin you were familiar with speak your name, standing in the entrance, hair still wet and dripping with excess water. 

"Don't get cocky, I'm here for the project." You rolled your eyes with fake annoyance, unsuccessful at hiding your smile. Osamu felt something in him shift as he watched the change in your demeanor, feeling- what, jealous? 

"You met 'Samu?" Atsumu approached you, not missing the tension hanging in the air. "Y/N, this is the inferior twin, 'Samu, as you can also tell. And 'Samu, this' Y/N." He introduced you, making you laugh awkwardly, but Osamu kept his glower. 

"Don't mind him, he can be an asshole sometimes." Atsumu whispered at you, which anyone even passing by outside the house could hear. "Look at who's talking." You told him with a snarky quirk of a brow, making Atsumu frown. "Mean."

The blond pulled you towards the living room, making you settle on the couch and plopping next to you. Osamu caught the glance you sent his way when he didn't sit, leaning against the wall that was across you, instead, and you found he still had that frown that seemed to be imprinted on his face.

Osamu's frown was deepening on his lips at how comfortable you looked next to Atsumu, the friendly banter you had the exact opposite of how uncomfortable you looked next to Osamu. Maybe it was the natural competitiveness that came with having a twin, but Osamu hated this feeling. Why couldn't you smile at him like that, too? Yeah, maybe he was acting like a dick, but wasn't Atsumu also?

"Go dry your hair, idiot, you'll get sick!" Osamu heard you tell his twin, watching you hit him with the nearest pillow. "Hm?" Atsumu turned to you with a grin, leaning towards you for easy access to his hair. "I thought ya could do it for me?"

Osamu watched you with interest as you glared at his twin with annoyance. "I hope you get sick." You narrowed your eyes at him. "If you keep this attitude around other people, I'll kick you."

"Alright, alright, I won't flirt with ya when other people are around." Atsumu grinned, and Osamu felt his appetite vanishing. "I'll just leave." He muttered to himself, closing the door behind him just after hearing your answer to his twin.

"Don't flirt with me, ever?" 

You had spoken it with such genuine annoyance that if you had listened closely, you could hear Osamu laughing from the other side of the door.

~

So, the meeting with his twin was anything but successful.

Osamu was very blunt with how much he hadn't liked you, his glare reminding you of the ones Atsumu had whenever his fans approached him, cold and cruel.

Grey was clearly the superior choice, though, that you found yourself thinking as you gazed at the blond. "What? Lost in my handsomeness?" Atsumu teased you when he noticed you weren't paying attention to the project. You had to hold yourself back physically before you said something along the lines of how his twin was hotter, but you knew he wouldn't talk to you ever again, so you shut your mouth and took the teasing. 

Luckily, Osamu was barging through the door before Atsumu could continue, bored-looking eyes finding you two where he had left you. "Dinner's ready." He told you and left the room.

"Food," Atsumu salivated, jumping on his feet the moment he heard his brother, ready to sprint to the kitchen. You shuffled awkwardly in your place when you felt his warm-brown gaze on you, expecting you to stand up, as well, and eat.

"I- uh," you muttered. "I'm not really hungry, and I ate before I came here." Lies. "Can't we just finish this project instead?"

Strike two.

Just as he started to think you weren't horrible, Osamu gasped from the other side of the wall when he heard you (the walls were thin), his teeth clenching in annoyance. Really? Did you prefer doing a fucking project over his food? The food he had cooked?

Osamu was never a forgiving person, but this- this was something he could never forgive, he decided on the spot.

"Oh, come on, stop bein' a baby." Atsumu told you, pulling you by your hand on your legs, he knew you well to understand you were hesitating to go there because of his brother. Or more as he was making you nervous and you would rather not eat than go in his presence. "Osamu's the best cook around, you'll see." He joked so you could relax a little, making you giggle nervously.

Strikeout.

Osamu flinched at the words, eyes narrowing on you as you entered the kitchen. Did you doubt his abilities? 

You thanked the boy as he placed your plate in front of you, steaming hot food, smelling so good that you wanted to bury your face in it, but the grey gaze hovering over you was making you so nervous that it made it impossible for you to take even a small bite.

"Do ya like it?" Atsumu asked you, noticing how you were nudging the food with your fork without eating. You flinched in your place, your friends' voice pulling you out of your thoughts and back to reality, to which you mustered a smile and nodded. "Yeah! Yeah, it's- it's delicious. Thank you." You turned back to Osamu, who scoffed at your words, causing you to frown. 

You could tell he didn't like you one bit, even though you weren't sure as to why, but you discarded the thought. He was free to like or dislike you, which, in this case, was the latter, though it stung a little since you thought he seemed nice when- well, when he didn't frown at you.

He seemed like the type you would either get along or hate mutually.

He had obviously chosen the latter, and both Atsumu and you could feel the almost hateful air coming from Osamu as he glanced at you with a disinterested, blank face. "Did ya have a bad day or something, 'Samu?" Atsumu broke the silence, and you felt like you could finally take a breath. "You look like someone kicked ya in the nuts."

"Fuck off, 'Tsumu." 

"Nah, you've been acting like a dick all day. What's with ya today?"

"I said fuck off!" Osamu warned his twin another time, this time successfully silencing the blonde. 

"Thank you," You broke the awful silence that followed Osamu's voice. "The food was delicious." You told him after you finished your food. You could still feel his gaze over you as you placed your plate in the sink and retreated to the living room. 

"Your brother didn't like me very much, did he?" Osamu heard you mutter to his brother after he had left, too, feeling a fracture of guilt in his chest as he caught the disappointment in your voice.

"It's just... 'Samu. Don't worry about it." Atsumu told you, closing the door behind you.

~

Osamu was hesitant to knock on the living room door.

It had been about two hours since you had gone in, and knowing his brother- he couldn't be sure as of what's to happening.

"Oi, 'Tsumu!" He barged in the room, discarding the thoughts before he gave up. 

"Shut up." Atsumu whispered, eyes lifting from his phone screen for a second and glancing at you. You, who was lying on the sofa and- sleeping?

"She fell asleep." Atsumu grinned at his brother's questioning gaze. "I'll carry her back to the car. Can you drive her home?"

Osamu didn't hold back his snicker when Atsumu's voice dropped volume as he asked the favor from his brother, still not able to admit to himself the defeat.

"Your hair is still wet, idiot," Osamu mumbled, his eyes wandering over your figure. "And I will not take care of you if you go out and get sick."

"What?" Atsumu grinned mockingly. "Are you gonna carry her then? Be a hero for the girl you've been acting like an ass all day? What the fuck was up with you today?"

"I don't like her." Osamu shrugged.

"She's not the kind of girl you think of her as." Atsumu quickly responded, already aware of what his twin had decided about you. Atsumu knew Osamu too well, his stubbornness even more, so he wasn't exactly surprised when he shrugged. 

"Let me be the judge of that, and I don't have to like her."

"Whatever, you do you. But you know, you don't have to dislike her just because she's my friend, too."

Osamu stood silent, eyes falling back on you. He knew Atsumu was partly right, but he had his reasons not to like you, right? Osamu pocketed his car keys, nodding at his twin and lifting you off the couch.

Atsumu grinned at the audible gulp his twin took when you shifted uncomfortably in Osamu's arms, snuggling your body closer to him, your hand fisting his shirt unconsciously. 

You woke up with Osamu hovering over you, and it took you a second or two to notice you were in a car and he was tying your seatbelt. He was so close, yet so careful not to touch you, his smell -a different perfume than his brother's- filling your newly awakened senses with him, him, him. Your eyes met his when he tied it and pulled back, a brow quirking up as his frown settled on his lips. 

"Did I wake you up?" He muttered as he retreated to his seat, running his fingers through his hair as he fixed his mirror, pushing back the few stray strands back from his face. Osamu turned back to you when you stood quiet, a sarcastic smile quirking his lips upwards, but it fell as soon as you talked.

"Wh- uh, where's Atsumu?"

Osamu clenched his teeth, not knowing why it angered it so much that his twin was the first thing that came to your mind as soon as you woke up.

"Home." Osamu gritted through his teeth. "I'm dropping you home, 'Tsumu gave me the address."

He glanced at you when you stood silent. "He doesn't have a license." Osamu couldn't help but add, a feeling stirring in him when you laughed at that. "So he failed the exam and you passed? That must've been a blow on his ego."

"Oh, you have no idea." Osamu found himself laughing with you.

Silence. He could feel your growing anxiety, and you could tell he was nervous as well, the taps of his fingers on the stirring wheel echoing in the car. His hair reflecting the colors coming from the road, yellow, red, and green, the features of his face illuminated, you thought he looked too handsome to be true.

"Why are you friends with him?" Osamu blurted out after a few seconds of silence, but the question didn't seem to surprise you. "Why is anyone friends with anyone?" You teased.

"Atsumu isn't exactly the type people wanna be friends with." 

"Hm," he heard you humm thoughtfully, not answering the question. "If we're asking questions, well, here's one. Why don't you like me?"

He could feel your light gaze on him as he kept his eyes on the road. It wasn't if he liked you or not, but you asked him why. He found himself wondering where that annoying meak girl he had met inside went. "And you don't like me."

"No," you answered honestly, which he found amusing. "You're mean."

"And 'Tsumu isn't?"

He turned to you when you shrugged. "Well, Atsumu is, too. But there is a difference, you know."

"And what is that?"

"He's a naturally mean person." You explained as if it made perfect sense. "He's just mean, he doesn't try to be meaner or nicer. You, on the other hand," you looked at him. "I don't think you're naturally mean, not as much as him, at least. I think you're purposefully being mean, and thats why I don't like you."

You met his eyes when Osamu turned his eyes from the road to you when the car stopped at the red light, grey eyes glistening with reds and yellows from the road. Your eyes followed the small smile that appeared on his lips, and you couldn't help yourself from thinking how soft they looked. How much more handsome he looked with a smile, even with one as cruel as he had now.

"I just don't like you." He told you with as much spite as possible, not sure why he was deliberately trying to hurt you. His brows furrowed when you laughed at his answer, instead.

"You certainly aren't the first." 

"What does that mean?" He asked without missing a beat, the tension now almost solidifying in the air. His heart was hammering in his chest, eyes watching your smiling lips as he waited for your next words, your chest heaving in sync with his, and you were so close, so close that if he leaned even just a little-

"You only met me today, Osamu-kun." He felt goosebumps climbing his back as he heard his name from your lips for the first time. "You know me for what, a few hours at most, and here you are telling me you just don't like me." The cynical tone of your voice made him send you a glare, his hands working over the gear when the red illuminating the car turned green.

"People like you do this a lot, you know. Judge people by one or two mistakes they do, not even anything major, but things you don't like, and deem them unworthy of your time. And how much I hate it when they boast about it, too. What, do you think you're so perfect? Don't you ever make any mistake?"

"People like me?" Osamu repeated, uncharasterically silent after all those words you had spat. "Yeah, shallow people." You answered, but you weren't looking at him anymore as you tapped the window instead. "We're here." 

You were silent as he stopped the car, pulling to the side, and watched you open the door. "You know," he finally spoke, rolling down his window before you were too far. "You say I judge people so quickly, but you did a full-blown analysis just now, and you say I'm the one to judge quick?"

"Tell me, Osamu." You bent forward a little, leveling your face with his. "If you can promise me that you didn't think, ah, I know this type of girl, even once tonight, I'll take it all back and apologize to you."

You smiled when he stood quiet. 

"Goodnight, Osamu. Thank you for the ride." You told him before walking back to your house.

~

"Ya know, with the amount of time you spend here, you may as well move in." Osamu told you gruffly, eyeing you from his side of the couch. Your eyes followed him as he took a bite out of his food, adam's apple bobbing up and down.  

"I'll move in as soon as you leave." You answered with a fake smile, turning your eyes away from his as soon as you realized you were staring, hoping he hadn't noticed, but he had. 

"Yer sure ya want me to leave?" He quirked a brow at you, making you grimace. "Never been more sure." 

It had been about a month since you met Osamu, and it was like this ever since. Osamu never missed the chance to take a jab at you, or he couldn't sleep. You never backed down from it either, the fights going back and forth until either Atsumu got bored and pulled you away or one of their friends called you out.

You didn't enjoy it like they thought you did. In fact, it was getting tiring and annoying, but you couldn't stop yourself from taking a jab at Osamu whenever he shot you a remark.

He looked at you when you sighed, brows quirking up in a silent question. "When's Atsumu gonna be here?"

Atsumu had told you to come to his place that day, telling you he would be there in a few minutes after you and he had something to do, but as always, he was late at least an hour, and you were now stuck with his brother. 

"I'll just go home and meet you up later." You had told the blonde, but he had insisted you stay. 

"Have you ever seen 'Tsumu come somewhere not at least two hours late? I bet he won't be here for at least an hour more." Osamu chuckled. "I'm hungry." He added right after, eyes finding yours.

"And? You need me to cook?" You snickered, not expecting him to stay silent, looking at you for a few more seconds and rolling his eyes as he turned around and went to the kitchen. 

Your brows furrowed in confusion at the antic. Surely Osamu wasn't- he wasn't asking you if you wanted something, was he?

"At least open a movie or something as we wait." Osamu muttered from the kitchen. 

"Do you have something on mind?" You asked, feeling weird at how soft he suddenly was acting. "No, pick one."

"Okay," you muttered to yourself, emphasizing the 'o'. You thought of opening a volleyball match, Atsumu always liked it when you did, and maybe he would- no, why were you even thinking of what he would like? He told you to open whatever, hadn't he?

Still, despite reasoning with yourself, you were jittery as you opened a random comedy show from Netflix. Trying to focus your thoughts on the show playing, you did your best not to think about the silver-haired boy inside, failing miserably by how your mind wandered to him and the odd way he was acting today.

"Say, ya never gave me an answer as to why yer friends with 'Tsumu." He entered the room, carrying a tray with two plates and forks inside. The crooked smile on his lips was making your heart beat twice as fast, even though you didn't want to admit it, and the way he focused on holding the tray on balance, the slight crease between his furrowed brows. Osamu Miya was too handsome for his own good.

"Thanks," you muttered half-heartedly as you took the plate from him, not even aware it was an olive branch he was sticking out. Osamu's face fell when you didn't spare him or his food another look. "You never gave me an answer of why you don't like me, so I guess we're even." You laughed, smile wavering when he didn't laugh along.

He sighed, eyes glancing at you and then back at his hands. It made you antsy, making you feel like something was wrong.

"You chose this to watch?" He turned back to the not answering you. He shifted in his place when you hummed, "I can change it i fyou want." The way he hadn't made fun of your choice of the movie yet, was too uncharacteristic of him.

"No, its okay." He answered instead, ending the conversation -if you could even call this one. You ate in silence, tv playing in the background, though neither of you cared of it, your gaze meeting now and then until you couldn't take it.

"What is wrong with you?" You couldn't help but blurt out, turning the TV off and facing him. You watched him as he quirked his brow up, looking at you questioningly even though he knew what you meant.

"What is wrong with me?" He repeated.

"Why are you being nice?"

He turned back to face the tv after a beat of silence, looking somewhat... shy? What the-

"Wh-what was that?" You asked when he mumbled something, the answer so silent that it was inaudible. "I said," Osamu repeated, eyes still focused on his plate. "You told me you didn't like me because I- uh, I was rude."

His voice was still uncharacteristically quiet, but this time you heard him loud and clear. That didn't mean you understood it, though.

"What do you mean?" He heard you ask, your voice laced with something resembling suspicion, you scoffed when he stood quiet, standing up to your legs and picking your plate off from the table. "If you're trying to tell me you want me to like you, I'm not buying it."

"You're not buying it?" He repeated, mirroring your movements and standing up, making you realize how much taller he was than you. The way he was looking at you- what was it, hurt? No, it couldn't be. Anger would be more like it. 

"Is there no way of winning with you?" He asked, following you to the kitchen and placing his plate a little too roughly on the counter. "You say you don't like me because I'm rude. I try to be nice and you fucking ask me what's wrong with me? What do you want me to do, disappear?"

Now, there was no denying that Osamu was, indeed, hurt, as his face soured when you stood quiet, staring at him blankly at his question. "So you hate me this much." He muttered to himself, running his fingers through his hair. 

"I don't know why you expected me to like someone who has been nothing but rude to me since the moment we met." You shrugged, but a part of you wanted to tell him it was a lie, and despite everything that you- well, you liked him. 

The glare he sent your way was enough to make you choke on the breath you took, taking a step forward to you, close enough for you to feel dizzy with his scent.

"Well, that concludes it, I guess. This was stupid, anyway." Osamu muttered, but he was so close- so close that you could almost feel the heat radiating from him, your eyes fixated on his lips, and if you just leaned forward- a few millimeters was all there was.

"What was- what was stupid?" You whispered, noticing his gaze was also wandering on your lips. Your heart suddenly started thundering in your chest, and you couldn't even ask yourself what's happening? What are you doing?

"This," Osamu breathed against your lips, his gaze so intense over you that it sent chills down your spine. He finally leaned forward, doing what you wanted but couldn't do, the word "apologizing," being the last thing you hear before you felt his lips on yours.

It was a soft kiss, nothing similar to how you thought Osamu would kiss -not that you had thought on it, or so you told yourself-, this kiss was deeper, irrational, amazing. 

"Do you always apologize to people by kissing them?" You asked when he pulled back, smirking at the way your chest heave, feeling a tinge of pride at how breathless he had left you.

"Hm?" He hummed, not wiping that damn smirk off of his face, it even grew wider when he noticed you pressing your fingers on your lips, still in shock, "I don't apologize to people." 

It was true. 

No one had ever seen Osamu Miya change his opinion about something, about someone. He would never admit he was wrong yet apologize.

But here he was, standing before you -just as breathless as you were- apologizing. 

"Maybe you should apologize more." You told him with a sly smile, to which he happily complied.

~

"I wanted to make peace." He told you, sitting on the couch right beside you, refusing to look at you, though. "I've been trying to act nice for a while now, but you seem to- you don't like that."

"A while?" You repeat. "You were never nice to me!"

"I was trying." His brows furrowed at your protest. "But you always had something snarky to say, and I couldn't just stay silent, could I now?"

"But- what? You were always the one who started them!" 

"Was I?" He asked, giving you the time to think, watching your face in disbelief fall into a look of 'fuck, he's right.'

It was you who started the fights, despite thinking it was him all this time. Upon recognizing that, you started to see the times he actually was nice to you, which you had always discarded or turned a blind eye.

Biting your lip guiltily, your turned to him. "I might... owe you an apology." You muttered, very aware of how his eyes glinted, gaze falling back on your lips. "Well," he told you, smiling. "I can't disagree."

#osamu x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x y/n #osamu miya x reader #osamu x y/n #osamu miya x y/n #osamu miya x you #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu x self insert #haikyuu x me #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x imagines

[thefanficmonster]

I'm so happy you like the idea! Your first three words are: Rattle, Candlelight and Corset.

Oh this is gonna be interesting 🤭

Regretting

Pairing: Chris Redfield x Female OC (taken in by the Winters family as a daughter of theirs basically)

Warnings: Swearing (No Spoilers for any games don’t worry😊)

Genre: Romance, Fluff

Enjoy the mess my brain’s produced. Love, Vy ❤

“I have several questions surrounding this bullshit event!“ Gwen shouts from inside her room where she’s been getting ready for the past hour with the Captains of the BSAA keeping a watchful eye outside her door, making sure she doesn’t get any ideas of running away.

“I have as many as you do, trust me on that one.“ He replies, readjusting his tie. He hasn’t found himself in a three-piece-suit in a long time, all’s been soldier get-ups, bulletproof wests and combat boots. Truth be told, it’s not that he doesn’t want to dress nicely, he’s just rarely had any occasions worth dressing up for. Lord knows he’d be at home in this very moment, seated on the couch with a cold beer bottle in his hand. So to make the truth truer - he actively avoids places and events that would require him dressing up. It’s simply a hassle in and of itself, but dealing with the people at the even - that’s what he’s most bothered by.

“You cannot expect me to believe that’s the truth!“ Gwen shouts again, the sound of shuffling accompanying her voice. 

“Leon said it was important, Jill backed him up and you know I rarely get a say when the two of them partner up to support one another.“ Chris says, sighing while reaching for a cigarette before withdrawing his hand, remembering he didn’t take his pack with him on purpose. Claire says he needs to break the habit little by little so, in order to give her peace of mind, he does try whenever she’s looking. However, when she turns away, he’s quick to light a cig, almost as quick as a dying man getting connected to life support.

“You, Leon and I have very different definitions of the word ‘important’.“ She sasses back, her voice now being the only sound coming from the room which is a sign Chris cannot decide the meaning of - is she almost done? Is she starting over with everything? Either way, he doesn’t mind. Running late to the gala the mayor’s throwing is not particularly bothering him, he actually prefers it.

What’s been bothering him is the fact that he’s found himself impatient of something else. Impatient of seeing her - not that he’d ever admit it. Him and Gwen have been friends for quite some time. Well, they did get off on the wrong foot, but were quick to arrange a relationship alike a friendship and function without wanting to gauge each other’s eyes out. Somewhere along the lines they became actual friends without even noticing.

Gwen Winters had every right to be suspicious of Captain Chris Redfield. Not that she was always wary of him or anything - seeing as how him and her ‘parents’ are friends, she never thought twice about the guy. However, when she expressed interest in joining the BSAA and earned herself a scoff from him, she was rather pissed. Being the main chemistry project of an asshole with a saving-the-world complex back in Raccoon City, it’s safe to say she got some above average strength to her name. And that’s putting it mildly. Being rescued from that lab by Leon and getting taken in by the Winters family, she’s developed her own hero complex, the need to save those who can’t save themselves always dwelling within her.

And so, despite the amusement Chris showed when she brought up the idea, she became a BSAA soldier. 

“I think we established that on your very first mission, soldier.“ Chris chuckles, recalling that first mission he was so opposed to, mostly because Gwen was tagging along at her request and the allowance of Leon. He was very fucking afraid they’d have to carry her dead body out of there but the action was quick to turn the tables on him - having Gwen save his life more than once. What surprised him most though was her humbleness about it. She didn’t rub it in or nag him about having proved her point. She was just glad they had all made it out in one piece and that struck him with a whole new intensity. Almost like a wake up call.

The door beside him suddenly swings open, causing him to abruptly straighten up from his leaning position, shooting a look at the doorway from which emerges Gwen. Or at least he believes it’s her. Had he not known she was the only other person in the house at the moment, or had he seen her passing by on the street he wouldn’t have recognized her.

And he’d have every right not to: this must be the first time she has worn a dress since prom - if she even wore one then - and the same probably applies for the make-up she’s put on. It’s not much or anything, in fact the only reason he’s noticed it is because he’s so used to seeing her make-up-free face. So much so, he’d recognize even a drop of foundation if she applied it. And oh boy, is he whipped by the sight. He can lie all he wants and to whoever he wants to, but he cannot lie to himself. Especially not when his jaw has fallen to the floor, his eyes have grown wide and his heartbeat has picked up noticeably.

If Ethan could hear at least half of what Chris is thinking at the moment, he’d be as good as banned from the Winters home forever.

When Gwen’s eyes meet her Captain’s, she can’t help but smirk, “What is it, Cap? I exchange the bulletproof vest for a corset and you suddenly don’t recognize me?” She asks, raising a teasing eyebrow.

He knows it’s wrong, for so many reasons: He’s her captain, she’s his soldier; She’s an adult but he’s still significantly older than her; She’s the ‘daughter’ of a friend of his, to make matters even worse - It’s so wrong yet he can’t get the thought out of his head. It’s not just now, it’s something he’s been struggling with for quite some time. He’s constantly haunted by her: the sound of her laughter, her smile, that focused frown that appears every time she is looking at a map or a new case, analyzing its every detail, the twinkle in her eyes whenever she gets told she’ll be going on a mission and that same sparkle growing brighter when she returns from it having successfully completed it.

It’s all overwhelming, and in the nicest, wrongest way possible.

“Honestly, Winters, seeing such a shift does rattle a person. Especially when I haven’t seen you out of a soldier’s uniform for years now.“ He comments, his eyes traveling up and down her body on their own accord, despite his best attempts at keeping his gaze on her face.

She laughs, “Can’t really go to training in a dress and high heels, you know. If I had more opportunities, the dresses in my closet wouldn’t be covered in spiderwebs.“

“Duly noted.“ He smirks, offering the young lady his hand as he leads her down the stairs, “I could help you out with that.“

She frowns, pausing mid-step, “Oh no, no, no no. If what you have in mind is a bunch of charity events, you better get that thought out of your head. A bunch of rich assholes drinking champagne, really not my scene.”

Chris chuckles offering her his arm as they walk out the front door to where he parked his car upon arriving at the Winters home, running into Ethan, Mia and their five year old daughter, about to head out for the night. He won’t complain about the lecturing he received, he deserved it after all. It’s a miracle the two even agreed to let Gwen accompany him, not that they could stop her either way seeing as how she’s an adult woman who’s more than capable of making her own decisions.

“No, no, I know you hate those events. I do too.“ He says, oddly timidly as the two get seated in the car. “I was thinking more along the lines of...“ He contemplates how to say it without making the rest of this night awkward, or mess things up with Gwen in any way. She means a lot to him and he’d hate to lose her over his complicated feelings he wishes he could control. “Dinner under candlelight, maybe?“

He’s as stiff as a boulder, tense and expecting something, anything. Literally anything, even outright rejection would be better than silence. Regardless of her answer, he’s gonna regret this move later when Ethan hears about it and goes to kick his ass.

Out of the corner of his eye, he catches the slight shake of her head, a blush evidently appearing on her cheeks, visible even in the dim light in the car. A small smile graces he features as her hand travels to his which is nervously resting on the gear shift. “Sure, I’d like that.” She says, her smile growing wider.

There’s that same twinkle - the sparkle in the eyes of a soldier willing to fight for the greater good, putting everyone above herself. And, on his hierarchy, she’s number one.

“I’m glad.“

Chris Redfield has regretted many things in his life and will probably regret even more in the future. However, he was a fool to think he’d regret this decision - one look at Gwen’s eyes and all regret was erased. All ass-kicking he might receive for it seems more than worth it, looking at it from the perspective of this very moment.

Then again, Captain Chris Redfield has never been a stranger to a little ass-kicking.

Thank you so much, Anon for this super fun challenge! I hope to receive more three words to turn into fics cause I really enjoyed this experience 🥰

#resident evil 8 #resident evil #resident evil village #resident evil 7 #resident evil chris #resident evil chris redfield #re8 #re village #chris redfield #chris redfield x reader #re chris redfield #chris redfield fanfic #chris redfield x oc #ethan winters #mia winters #original female character #original character #challenge #3 word challenge

[hentaimommi]

ᴄʟᴜʙ ᴛᴇᴀꜱᴇ. | ᴋᴇɪɢᴏ ᴛᴀᴋᴀᴍɪ (prohero!fem! reader)

Warnings: smut

[A/N]: I had a dream about this last night oml. think like- 2013 night club vibes. I'm also giving you a quirk.

Quirk: Bunny

[C L U B T E A S E]

The night life of a pro-hero was a beautiful one. The exclusive club used to house the many parties held was in downtown Japan. The tallest building, on the highest floor. You personally opted to go on your day off. Normally you could catch many heroes in their hero outfits, but you liked to get dressed and actually look presentable.

At about 18:00, you began your lengthy process of getting ready. Beginning with curling your hair, then moving to cosmetics which were a pretty big deal. A nice eye look to match your dress, which was skin tight and silver. It sounds cheap; but the dress was the most expensive clothing item you owned. Pairing it with simple earrings and a pair of black-strap heels, you were set for the party that was starting at around 21:00.

Throwing on a large, white and puffy jacket, you checked yourself in the mirror. "No, black would look better." You then changed, now smoothing your dress and exciting the front door to your penthouse. The elevator ride was a long one, nervous as usual. Many male pro-hero's would be there, naturally making the energy a little tense. Stepping from the elevator, you walked out to the limo that had been pre-ordered for tonight.

Many of the paparazzi were already outside, taking shot after shot of you getting into the car. The air felt thick and you entered it. "Hello, Miss (H/N). How are you on this fine evening?" Your shofar asked, adjusting the mirror and beginning to go forward. "Oh, just fine." You responded; eyes locked outside the window. Your gut was wrenching, no matter how many parties you went to, the same feeling creeped over your shoulder each time.

Upon arrival of the very large building, the limo was parked outside of many velvet ropes. An array of guards were standing outside, blocking any exit there could have been. You thanked the driver, stepping out and into the cool night air. As you did so, the guards looked over to you, watching you walk through each velvet rope to their location. The guard at the main entrance smiled, letting you past and into the buildings lobby. Eyes were locked onto you, as they were everytime. People asking for autographs and greeting you; but all you wanted was to get to the top floor.

Once more you stepped into an elevator, pressing the very last button and prepping yourself for the long ride. Just as the doors closed, though, a large hand stuck through the middle of the two large metal blocks. You questioned it, until a certain pro-hero who had been climbing the charts walked in. "(H/N)! Glad I caught ya! I need up to the top floor." He entered the room, towering over you a little bit. "Lucky for you, Hawks, I'm going there too." You responded, eyes nervously finding your hands- which were fumbling.

The ride was silent for the most part, but like Hawks, he couldn't be completely quiet. "You look nice," He scratched the back of his neck, tilting his head a bit. Your blush was evident, also by the fact your leg began hopping. Unlike Mirko, your quirk wasn't strength based; it was reflex based, meaning you were toned down to the muscle. Hawks noticed this, a light smirk playing on his lips. Finally, the doors opened. "See you later, little birdy." He spoke, walking out into the greeting of the party. You followed.

"(H/N)!" A voice grumbled far above you. Turning around, you were welcomed into the warm presence of Fatgum and his interns: Suneater and Red Riot. Red Riot smiled, shaking your hand. Suneater only nervously turned around. You tilted your head in sympathy, then looked back up. "Hey Fatgum. What's up?" You asked, him following you to the bar as you moved smoothly through the crowd.

"Well I was wondering- I have this friend, and he needs someone to dance with. Would you be willing to help him out?" He proposed, paying for your drink over the bar. You thought for a moment, kicking back a shot and removing your coat. Many men had their gaze trapped on you. The quirk you had gave you large legs; also affecting your glutes. "Yeah, sure." Fatgum smiled watching you turn around, signaling someone over. "Yeah, can I get a martini? Make it dry, please." The bar tender nodded, then money for the exact price of the drink shot over the counter. Turning back, Hawks was standing with Fatgum. Your eyes widened a little, realizing he had meant, by his friend- the winged pro-hero.

"Don't worry. I'll pick up the tab. Wanna dance chickadee?" He asked, that same smirk as earlier meeting your gaze. You nodded, him taking your hand and softly leading you over to the dance floor. (Song: Smack That - Akon) Hawks wore his wings out nearly protectively over you as you both met the floor. You took a liking to the song decently quickly; finding yourself dancing wildly to it. You had the attention of most men in the club as your ass shook to the beat. Unknowing of this, Hawks pulled his wings over your ass and covered it from other men's gaze.

You, however, had your eyes closed. The feeling was lucid almost, barely buzzed at all. You enjoyed the flashing lights of the dance floor partnered with the bass of the song playing loudly though the speakers. The song switched (The Way I Are - Timbaland), Hawks now wrapping his hands around your waist loosely. You're almost sure this isn't what Fatgum meant by 'dancing', but his hands were so warm, touch so inviting as you both danced lewdly on each other.

The stares weren't as heavy as before, Hawks making slit eyes at each male who would attempt to catch your gaze. "Hawks?" You asked, turning around, hips still rocking to the beat. He looked down to you, delighted to see your face. Fatgum hadn't asked you by chance for him to dance with you, he had set it up well aware you all were friends. "Yeah?" He asked, smiling (Candy Shop - 50 Cent). You smiled at the change of the song, seductive eyes batting up to the avain male.

"Would you wanna take this somewhere else?" You asked, pushing your chest comfortably up to his. He was taken aback by your question, thinking you would at least want an emotional connection before doing anything beyond hot and heavy dancing. "You bet that fat ass, bunny." He spoke into your ear, wings still protectively over you. Goosebumps fled your skin. "You can call me Keigo, by the way." He smiled. "Call me (F/N)." Silencing, you dragged his hand back and away from the dance floor.

No one questioned you all as the music faded behind you, becoming muffled in the distance. You stopped at what you knew were the happening VIP spots. "Do you own a room?" You asked, pushing yourself against the wall. Nervously Keigo nodded, pulling keys from his pocket. It was his turn to lead you this time, taking you to the farthest back room there was. These were known as 'sober rooms', made by commission for heroes to sober up in. They had a couch, fireplace, and a small bar set up for luxury- at least in Keigo's.

As you walked in, his hand on the small of your back, he could feel the heat your body had been radiating. "I've never brought anyone back here before. Do you want a drink?" He asked, already pouring himself a whiskey. You sat down on the very large, nearly conversation pit sized couch. "Yeah, do you have any coconut rum?" He lifted a brow, "Yeah, weirdo." He chuckled a bit, pouring the drink and walking over to you. His outfit was nice. Tight red shirt, black suit, extremely nice dress shoes with matching black socks.

As he sat down, you pushed off your heels and turned to him, looking innocently with large eyes. Although, he knew you were far from innocent. The music which was once flooding your ears, was now a meek hum in the background. Keigo leaned down, wrapping his arm around your shoulders- then pressing you into a kiss. He tasted like whiskey and mint, cologne flooding your nose and countering the taste of his lips.

His kisses were sloppy, untamed as they moved from your lips down to your neck and chest. You weren't drunk, but you could get that way off of his touch. His hands softly trailed over your entire figure, leading to your ass. He held a hefty grip onto it, pulling you seamlessly into his lap. Like you weighed nothing.

"Keigo, oh my fucking god.." You moaned, hands looping into his golden locks. You could feel his hard cock pressed up against your think panties. Your thighs straddled him thickly, engulfing his own. He liked it, hands not being able to leave your ass and thighs for even a moment. "Birdy, do you know how fat that ass is? What I'd do to make it all mine." He gawked, pressing his cock up to you.

"Do it." You almost whispered back, pushing yourself up and lying on your back. Keigo came between your legs, trailing sloppy and wet kisses up your inner thigh. You could nearly feel his hot breath on your cunt, so sensitive and ready to be touched by him. “Keigo, please don’t tease me.” You softly begged, watching as his slit eyes come to meet your own wide orbs. “’nt worry, Keigo’s gotcha..” He cooed, sweetly as possible. He then sat back up, adjusting his wingspan. You watched as the beautiful shade of red feathered outward, almost in a mating dance. He chuckled at you in awe, taking that moment to remove his pants. Soon your eyes would trail back down, seeing as he had removed his underwear too. “Your turn, baby.”

He took his time while taking off your panties, etching them seductively over your freshly shaven legs. Your hips pushed forward, almost begging for contact, drawing a low hum from the bird man. All he wanted was to take you in that moment. His wings fluttered happily seeing your wet cunt, knowing all it took was him teasing you to get there. “You have such a pretty pussy.” He leaned down, pulling you hips up and closer to him. Watching each move he made was interesting. He did nothing uncalculated, everything had a reason. 

You shivered at the contact of his spit-soaked hand with your already wet cunt. He rubbed his fingers skillfully around, building you up. Your moans were lewd, long, and loud through the room. He didn’t seem to mind as he tore away the contact, Replacing his fingers with his cock tip. “Ready?”  You nodded, still pushing your hips up. Keigo chuckled at your desperate attempts, holding you hips and pressing his cock into you. You whined, the girth stretching you out so well. Your legs automatic response was to lock around his waist. “K-Keigo-” He shushed you, palating his fingers into your tongue. 

Watching as he started to thrust in and out, his face contorting in pleasure; his cock twitching inside of you. His moans were like a sweet song, spilling at each thrust. You felt his cold rings meet your leg, pulling your leg above his shoulder to hit deeper, kissing your sweet spot with each thrust. He knew what he was doing, too, making sure you could hear every single moan that spilled from his lips, which were pink and swollen. “Yeah, you like my big fat cock? Say you like it, tell me how much you like this pro-hero cock.” 

“Oh Kei, it feels so good- please, don’t quit.” You begged, fingernails scraping up his previously unmarked skin. He made sure to mark you back, too. Leaving purple marks up your chest, stopping just at your neck. You could feel it, the coil that had been in the works from the moment he pushed himself inside you. Your legs began to shake, Keigo feeling himself starting to twitch inside of you. There were no words, only incoherent moans that overflowed from the both of you. Your orgasms hit at the same time, your hands gripping into his shoulder blades desperately. His hands dug into the sofa, nearly breaking the material. 

“Kei, holy fuck, you’re so good!” You praised, throwing your head back in euphoria. When you both finished, the only thing to be heard was the panting breaths of the two of you. He collapsed finally overtop of you, nuzziling into your neck. You began to pet his hair, letting both of you breath out the intense feeling that had just gripped onto your body. “Fuck, baby, if I would have known you’d be that good, I would have asked you to dance myself.”

#takami keigo smut #hawks x you #hawks smut #hawks x reader #pro hero au #onenightstand #takami keigo x reader

[tangent101]

Max Caulfield and Post-Storm PTSD

One thing I find interesting (and have done so myself) is speculating on how broken Max will be in a Post-Storm (either Sacrifice Chloe or Sacrifice Arcadia Bay) setting. While some people (usually those who killed Chloe) like to say "she'd bounce back!" the predominant view is that we have a shattered Max after this who needs a lot of therapy. So I thought I'd unpack this and look at why I look at this this way.

At this point I should add there is potential triggers here. I'll be examining my own PTSD and elements of Max's state of mind that may in fact result in her being in declining mental health in the wake of the events of Life is Strange.

First, let's consider what PTSD (Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder) is, and what causes it. And for this I'm going to start by sharing my own trauma. Because I have PTSD. I gained this after I saw a vehicle go out of control and hit two people and run over two others. The final person was trapped under the vehicle and they had to push the van at an angle to pull him out, do CPR, and... he was dead. Even if EMTs had been right there, he'd not have survived.

I suffer flashbacks thinking of this, though it's gotten better. I will flinch, visualize what happened, and feel nausea. I get tense over this and... well, it's not a happy experience to put it mildly. And I have what is likely a milder case of PTSD. I also developed it despite being in an environment that put me at a lower risk of developing it. And yes, I had minor twinges of PTSD writing this up. Two years ago I probably would have had an actual visualization and anxiety break. So you can get better with therapy and help.

But what specifically is PTSD? According to the website for the National Institute of Mental Health, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) develops in some people who experience shocking or dangerous events, with people who have PTSD feeling stressed or frightened even when they are not in danger. PTSD can occur within 3 months of traumatic events or even have you be fine and then crop up *years* later. And symptoms include flashbacks where you relive the trauma, bad dreams, and frightening thoughts which can disrupt a person's everyday routine.

People with PTSD are easily startled, can feel "on edge," have angry outburst, and have difficulty sleeping. They could go through avoidance of staying away from reminders of the experience and avoiding thoughts or feelings related to the event. Further, cognitive and mood symptoms include problems remembering key features of the event, self-negativity, distorted guilt or blame feelings, and loss of interest in enjoyable activities.

Okay, so how can you avoid PTSD? And how could Max avoid this? Well, factors promoting recovery after trauma include seeking support from friends and family, finding a support group, learning to feel good about your own actions in the face of danger, positive coping strategies, and learning to act and respond effectively even when feeling fear.

And this is the kicker. This is why Max is likely screwed as a result of the events of Life is Strange, especially in a Sacrifice Chloe setting. Because Max blames herself and her time travel for the Storm and all the weird shit that happened. She may very well believe that if she uses time travel for any reason, it will result in the Storm and a lot more people dying. And this will get in the way of being in a healthy environment to avoid PTSD.

First, consider friends and family. Max can't tell them what happened because she has absolutely no proof of what she went through. She can't prove her time travel because if she does then she dooms wherever she is and a lot of people die. (It doesn't matter if this is the case or not, she assumes it is true.) So Max is not going to confide in Warren or Dana or Victoria or anyone. She can't. And she's quite likely going to isolate herself because we have already seen at the start of the game, Max is a bit of a loner who doesn't have many friends.

In fact, her two "friends" are Warren (who she feels threatened by due to his attraction to her, as seen by his inclusion in her Nightmare sequence including learning he doctored photos of her to include himself in the picture, his peeping activities on the second day, and the honestly-creepy "Go Ape" thing), and Kate. Kate is going through her own shit and Max remembers Kate killing herself. Is Max going to unload her own issues on someone going through a lot of shit as well or is she going to swallow her problems so not to trouble her friend? And Warren is someone she feels nervous around and who has engaged in some activities that set up warning flags in her psyche. Further, when she told Warren the truth, he promptly blames her time travel on fucking everything up. In short, she trusted Warren and Warren said "you caused all this destruction." (Even if Max initially blames herself, he reinforces that point of view before Max jumps through the photo to save Chloe.)

Nor can I see her telling her parents. Again, she has no proof. Her parents are overprotective already. If she starts going off on this fanciful tale, are they going to believe her? Or are they going to assume their daughter is cracking and force her into therapy and possibly hospitalize her "for her own good" (and thus she ends up medicated and miserable, having lost her autonomy and agency)? It doesn't matter if they wouldn't as Max will worry this could happen. It is better to never say a thing. So Max internalizes everything. And we already see evidence that Max has done this sort of thing in the past. Max keeps her secrets close to her heart. She never told her parents of the time travel even when she could have had proof. So why tell them after Chloe died?

I have been overcoming my PTSD by revisiting it and working through it. Part of this was guided by therapy. Max would not be in a position to talk about this. And how could she? After all, she didn't find Rachel Amber's body (and we have no proof her body is uncovered in a Sacrifice Chloe setting). She didn't see the Storm. She didn't see most of the incidents. The closest that happened was being in the bathroom when Chloe was shot. And her story of what happened would change from the week that beta-Max was in charge and when Max Prime returned to the timeline. So even if she was talking to a school counselor? She'd quickly learn that her story changed and probably shut up and stop seeing them so not to give away her story.

Remember: Max cannot admit to the time travel because doing so means either killing hundreds of people due to the Storm or being locked away for being crazy because she has no proof.

Next, we have feeling good about her actions. For five days Max had hammered into her skull her actions have consequences. More, those consequences are predominantly bad. Far too often Max has to Rewind to fix things from her actions. If she can't Rewind? That means by acting, she's going to fuck things up. In fact, the fundamental aspect of Sacrifice Chloe states that her action to save Chloe caused all of this destruction. Max is going to second-guess herself constantly.

I mean, if she sees Kate on the roof again at a later point (because women who are the victims of crimes are often blamed by society for the crimes inflicted against them as seen time and time again with how we blame victims of sexual harassment and rape for the crimes committed against them, so of course her church and mother and aunt will continue to blame Kate for what she went through), will Max dare to act? If she does, then she might cause another Storm. She might cause damage. If Kate is on that rooftop again, maybe she was supposed to die. Who does Max think she is by trying to stop Destiny?

So yeah. Max is not going to feel good about her actions. She is going to second-guess herself. She already had that tendency at the start of the game, and Sacrifice Chloe hammers down the truth that action is bad. Better to do nothing and not interact.

We end up with Avoidance. Well, what is the biggest Avoidance? Photography. Max already has a murderer who kidnapped her associated with photography. She remembers being in the Dark Room, being powerless in the face of the man who murdered her Chloe. (Just like she murdered her Chloe. She might not have pulled the trigger, but she caused Chloe's death.) She will see Chloe's death and Rachel's death and her own suffering each time she looks at a camera and remembers Mark Jefferson. More, she knows if she focuses on a photograph she could end up traveling through time and causing the Storm. So she can't even enjoy pictures anymore because they are a threat.

That's not to say that the Sacrifice Chloe setting is all dark and dire. She does have music. She loves music. So if she puts aside the camera she might pick up her guitar and embrace music. (Hannah Telle, Max's VA, once speculated that Max would enter a career in music, probably due partly to her own musical inclinations.) So while she might give up her greatest loves, she might eventually embrace a future in music. I doubt she'd ever play in public but... that might be an outlet for a hurting soul.

Now, I've gone on at length about how dire things are for Max in a Sacrifice Chloe setting, but what about Sacrifice Arcadia Bay? Well, things end up a bit more positive in this setting because she can actually talk about going through some of these things. For instance, Max dug up a body with Chloe. She saw Chloe almost shot by Nathan in the bathroom. She saw Kate attempt suicide (whether or not she stopped it is immaterial to the suicide attempt). She learned that a trusted teacher and mentor was in fact a predator who was kidnapping young women, saw pictures of these crimes, and thus "suffers flashbacks visualizing herself in this setting." She can go to therapy and talk about many things she cannot in a Sacrifice Chloe setting and in doing so she can start to work through elements that could result in PTSD developing.

She can also talk to Chloe about what happened. Chloe knows about the time travel. She knows about almost dying (and Max witnessing Chloe's death multiple times). This gives Max a needed outlet for overcoming her own fears and concerns. But more importantly is this: Chloe is likely to tell Max to face down her fears. Chloe is the person who always pushed Max to try new things. And I honestly cannot see that changing as a result of what they went through.

Max also will learn to feel good about her actions. I mean, she chose Chloe over Arcadia Bay. This is the ultimate action, and while she may feel remorse for those deaths and that destruction... she also knows she saved Chloe and Chloe is by her side. She knows that her actions led to the capture and arrest of Mark Jefferson and saving Victoria Chase's life. Hell, it led to David Madsen (and probably a couple Arcadia Bay police officers) surviving the Storm because they were in the Dark Room at the time of the Storm. Her actions have consequences... and those consequences need not be dire. They can be beneficial.

So the Max of Sacrifice Arcadia Bay has a support group, she has access to therapy and can talk about some of the things she went through, she has someone she loves who believes her, she knows that her actions have benefit, she has someone who urges her to move forward. This isn't to say she won't have PTSD... but she is in a far better environment to overcome this to the point that in Life is Strange 2, we learn (in the Save Chloe timeline) that Max is submitting to galleries and that Chloe is still with her. So she's taking pictures and is in a good place in her life.

Now, what about Chloe? After all, Chloe went through some truly horrific shit herself. Chloe was almost shot by Nathan, she almost got hit by a train, she was threatened by Frank, she dug up the body of a girl she truly cared for, dozens of yards from where she was hanging out regularly, she saw a huge-ass Tornado wipe out her home town and kill her mother... yeah, Chloe's been through some horrific stuff, about as horrific as Max. More, she is in an unhealthy position at the time of the game.

But much of what benefits Max in the Save Chloe timeline also benefits Chloe. She can talk to a therapist. She has Max by her side. She has Max by her side and Max out-and-out chose her over hundreds of people. Joyce chose David over her, and for four years Chloe was in an unsafe environment. Rachel was... Rachel, and she was cheating on Chloe anyway. But Max... Max comes back, she saves her life several times, she helps Chloe time and time again, and at the end she chose Chloe over Arcadia Bay. That is big. That is bigger than big, it is... for once, Chloe was told "you are important." I mean, I'm getting teary-eyed just thinking of how big this is. Chloe has realized just how much Max loves her.

So... Chloe might develop PTSD. She is at risk of it. I think her triggers might similar to Max's - both girls probably will freak over thunderstorms for a while, and both may develop an aversion toward guns... at first I thought they'd differ but really, they'd align fairly well. About the only trigger issue Max would have Chloe doesn't has to do with photography (which is why Chloe is the person who'd help Max overcome any such issues).

#ptsd #post traumatic stress disorder #life is strange #lis #max caulfield #chloe price #max and chloe #sacrifice arcadia bay #sacrifice chloe #mental health

[heauxzenji]

Brainrot Kinktober 10/29

treat like gold

Lingerie: Alisa Haiba x Fem!Reader

Warnings: not a lot ??? I don’t think? Light voyeurism, light exhibitionism, Dom!Alisa a little bit, never thought I’d write scissoring but that’s in there, fingering, some bad words, ummmmmm yeah I think that’s it? Just wanna be topped by the woman of my dreams

Word Count: 1.7k

A/N: lmfao I found out Alisa is an Aries and chaos ensued I’m so sorry 👀 also ty @whet-ones-write for being my lovely beta reader bc sometimes we can’t all die like men also kiska is just a Russian pet name, it’s the equivalent to “kitten” in English!

Brainrot Kinktober Mlist

Red has always been her color. No matter what she wore, no matter how many runways she walked, no matter how many campaigns she had booked- she always stood out the most in red. It was her lucky color, and her lucky red pumps that got her the deal with the biggest up and coming intimates brand, TLG Lingerie.

Red was her lucky color, and the bane of your existence.

Being friends and living with a model obviously had its perks- her agency pays your rent; and you live in a fucking penthouse for starters. You get to go to a ton of industry parties, and of course, getting to see your amazing best friend live her dreams and cheer her on felt good. But you’d be a liar if you didn’t admit that it was also self-indulgent of you to be her assistant- you were the one that told her agency to send her on the TLG go-see… you’re the one who suggested the stylist change her from the white piece to the red one… you are the reason that those test shots of her in a fiery red bra, stocking, and garter set are sitting on your kitchen table right now- and let’s not even get started on the red marabou babydoll that you insisted she wear. You did this to yourself.

Fucking masochist. Now look at you. You’re a mess.

Your fingers were knuckle deep in your own wetness, your free hand aggressively kneading your breast as you rutted your hips against your hand, softly reciting her name as your face twisted in a torturous buildup. There was no way to prepare for the way the door flung open…. you hadn’t even heard her come into the penthouse.

“Hey, Y/N I was going to order Thai for din- OH!”

Your motions ceased, the feeling of your orgasm was instead replaced by a burning heat and anxious nausea as your eyes met Alisa’s in the doorway. Neither of you could move or speak- it felt like life was moving in slow motion.

“I didn’t know you were busy, I'm sorry,” Alisa spoke.

Her eyes were unmoving, not only looking at you but through you. Her breathing wavered as she bent over to pick up the discarded takeout menu. You finally regained enough composure to cover yourself- still dazed and utterly mortified.

“I didn’t know I had that effect on you.”

You wanted to feign ignorance, hell, you wanted to die- but in this moment playing dumb was the only thing you could do- until she picked up the still you had casually slipped into your pocket when she originally had the TLG shoot.

“You know, you could’ve just asked for a still,” she lamented, starting to make her way over to you. While your eyes widened with fear, her’s awakened with intrigue. She sat at the corner of the living room sectional tracing the corners of the photograph with her fingertips, eyes fluttering back and forth between it and you.

Finally settling her gaze, Alisa laid back, settling into your mattress with a sigh. Your body tensed as she stared- her eyes have always been her sharpest feature against her delicate appearance.

“Go ahead,” she goaded. “Finish what you started.”

It was a pointed command. Biting her lip, she pulled away the throw blankets that you had been so desperately clutching, cool air hitting your skin as you let out a shaky exhale. You stomach twisted ín self- consciousness, but you couldn’t stop either- an unexplainable tether pulled you. Readjusting yourself on the couch, you rested your back flush against the supportive cushion, spreading more to give her a full show of your puffy, slick-coated lips and inner thighs. She flopped onto her stomach, peering up at you from the foot of the couch intently.

“I- I-...” Finally, you were able to utter a syllable. It wasn’t of much use.

“You what?” She teased tilting her head curiously and almost in an innocent fashion. “You weren’t this stiff a minute ago~”

Your cheeks were hot, but your core was even hotter. Slowly, you slid a finger across your clit, jerking at the contact while she watched. As you rubbed some more tiny circles, one by one the soft whimpers from before started to fill the room yet again. You and Alisa kept eyes locked on each other as you curled in one of your fingers, then another, the open mouthed ‘o’ spreading across your face as her eyes darkened even more. She was beautiful- but sinister in her line of questioning.

“Does it feel good?”

You nodded.

“Do you do this often? Do you play with yourself and wish it were me?”

You fixed your lips to say no but nothing came out as you saw her begin to unbutton her blouse. It would’ve been a lie anyway. You’ve wanted her for as long as you’ve been friends. You’ve wanted her ever since you met.

“You shouldn’t be using photos of me if you have the real thing,” the fabric flowed off of her body to reveal the bra from the photographs- the fiery red lace and golden ‘TLG’ hook in the middle. Alisa began to crawl toward you, stopping just short of your feet to shimmy her way out of the pencil skirt she had been wearing for all of her go-sees that day. The matching red thong came into view, the full effect of the photos paling in comparison to the actual sight in front of you.

“Especially not when you can have the real thing anytime you want.”

By now her face was so close to yours that her breath tickled you. You had unconsciously sped up the motions of your fingers, a third falling in line with the others and pistoning itself in and out of your pussy. Alisa cooed and mewled, nodding at you with sweet praises falling from her lips. Taking your free hand, she guided you to her own chest, hands just grazing her barely covered tits- then to her lips, pulling two of your fingers into her mouth. As your jaw was hanging open, all you could do was manage a half sob from the back of your throat. The dizzying feeling of what was happening combining with the lightheadedness you were already feeling begin to well up inside of you.

There was a moment of stillness from you as Alisa leaned down to eye your glistening heat. Your breath hitched in the back of your throat as her fingertips found a way up your chin, brushing past your lips as you began to suckle almost instinctively. Pleased with your eagerness, she looked up at you through her thick lashes, batting her eyes.

“How about we just… touch each other hm?” The suggestion hung in the air, only punctuated by your ragged breathing and a desperate “please” that squeaked from your throat, raw from straining and holding in the moans of your impending high.

“I’ve barely touched you, y/n.” she hummed. “You’re so desperate. It’s cute.” Her little giggle made your walls clench haphazardly at her teasing. Slowly, she slipped herself out of the red fabric at her hips, neatly placing the bundled thong in your mouth as a makeshift gag.

“I can’t let you have all the fun…”

Alisa’s finger trailed up your slit, collecting the pooling wetness that coated your lower half. She smiled, taking it into her mouth, humming at the taste of your essence. Her weight shifted as she moved herself to dangle over you, repositioning one of your legs and interlocking your fingers with hers to hold a semblance of balance as she lowered her own hips to meet yours. Slowly, she ran herself against you, making sure to guide your hips to match her own ministrations. You strained against each other, juices mixing as you began to work up an even pace.

“How long have you wanted this?” Her flowery moans filled the room with an unexpected rasp, one contrasting that of her normally demure voice. She was a completely new person- a sapphic vixen driven by nothing more than the feeling the sins of your flesh.

“I - fuck,” you panted, taking a sharp inhale as you felt two of her fingers suddenly begin to slowly stretch you. “Fuck, I’ve wanted this so bad.”

Her other free hand began to pinch and tweak at your hardened nipples, wanton cries spilling out of your lips and into hers, muffled under her kiss.

“Mhmmm, I know you have, kiska,” Alisa moaned, craning her neck down to your earlobe, gently blowing on it as she continued to grind down into you. Your walls flushed with heat at the roughness of her mother tongue combining with her soft voice.

“Everyone wants to fuck me. I’m Alisa fucking Haiba.”

Your walls clamping onto her fingers was confirmation enough that she was right, a smug chuckle and click of her tongue resounding in your ear as she locked her gaze with that of your own.

Her clit slid against yours with each buck of your hips, the sudden motions combined with her fingers curling against your soft walls again sparking the painstaking buildup of a knot in your stomach. Alisa’s eyes never left yours as one of her delicate, expertly manicured hands found its way to each side of your neck, gently squeezing. No sound escaped your lips, but your jaw was stuck open as she started to speed up her movement, rutting her cunt against yours even more aggressively than before.

The pleasurable friction between you two had your eyes screw shut before you could even get one last look at her face. You came undone with a shrill cry, hips bucking almost manically as you rode it out. The self satisfying smirk on Alisa’s face said it all.

Wiping the hairs from your sweaty forehead she kissed you again, hopping up and darting toward the stairs, leaving you panting breathlessly.

“What about the food?” Your voice was barely above a hoarse croak. It was scratchy and raw, even though you had barely made any sounds. Too much straining had taken its toll, and that was evident.

“That can wait,” she called. She was halfway up the stairs, looking down at you from the landing’s balcony.

“I’m gonna go put on the babydoll…. and get my toy box.”

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[emm-jayy]

baby (ii) - spencer reid

Summary: Spencer grieves the loss of you

warnings: sad spence

style of fic heavily inspired by @erin-bo-berin ‘baby shoes’

series masterlist

gif not mine

One minute

As soon as he knows you are completely gone, Spencer lets go. A wrecked sob comes out of his mouth, and he begins to cradle your body.

He apologizes profusely to you, even though he knows you can’t hear him.

Then, he hears the sirens. Spencer stays in his spot, still cradling you.

The medics come into the room, with a stretcher and backboard.

“You’re too late.” Spencer says quietly, no emotion evident in his voice.

“Sir, i’m going to need you to move away from her.” The medic says, crouching down to meet Spencer’s level.

“You’re too late!” Spencer screams this time, his words turning into another sob as soon as he says them.

At that point, Morgan, and the other members of the team walk in.

Morgan walks up behind Spencer, putting a hand on his shoulder, “You’ve got to let her go Reid.” Morgan says.

Spencer doesn’t answer, he only slow rocks himself.

“Spencer!” Morgan says, louder this time. Spencer snaps out of the daze he is in, and sets your body down.

Spencer presses a kiss to his hand, and presses it against your cheek.

One Day

The ride back on the jet is silent. The team had decided to take themselves off the case, letting local police find Jackson Price.

No one wants to talk about it, and rightfully so. Everyone on the team knew that Spencer was taking it the hardest. Price literally told Spencer to save you, and he couldn’t.

Spencer hated the sympathetic looks and touches he got. Nothing compared to how it felt when you touched him. And every time he thought about how he would never get to experience that again, he broke down.

Spencer had decided not to tell anyone the moment you two had had before you died. That was to be your moment, that was how Spencer wanted it.

The plane lands, and Spencer silently grabs his bag, walking off the plane. He gets into his car, and drives to his apartment.

Spencer isn’t sure what his plan is for when he gets back into his apartment.

He unlocks the door to his apartment, and sets his bag down onto the table.

He figures he’d just watch some Doctor Who or something, get his mind off things.

But everything in his apartment reminds him of you.

The glass that you gave out as party favors to the first party you threw.

The book on his coffee table you insisted he buy.

Even the couch looked like it had the imprint of you in it, you sat there so much.

His whole apartment screamed your name, and Spencer puts his hands over his ears, as if not to hear it.

He eventually crumbles onto his bed, falling into a sleep, filled with dreams of you.

One week

Your funeral was a week after your death. Spencer decided he could gather himself for it. Ir was the least he could do to honor your memory. Spencer drove to the venue with the team, they all claimed he shouldn’t drive alone.

The team was the ones who were to carry your casket. The walk seemed to go in slow motion, everyone staring at them.

As the service began, Spencer wanted to scream. He wanted to scream out that this isn’t what you would have wanted.

You always joked that you wanted to attend your own funeral, just to make sure everyone had fun. Spencer knew that you wouldn’t want this, he knew that you wouldn’t want the eulogies to drag on, or for everyone to be sad.

Spencer wanted to scream all of these things out, but he didn’t.

Whenever everyone put a flower on your casket, Spencer is one of the last to go.

He sets the flower onto your casket. He presses a kiss to his hand, and then presses his hand to your casket.

Spencer doesn’t attend the reception, it would have been too much.

One month

One month after your death, Spencer goes back to work.

The team is in a meeting, learning about their new case when he walks in. The whole team had told Spencer to take as long as he needed, and they were surprised to see him back so soon.

“Hey guys.” Spencer says, in a low voice. He sits down next to Morgan and Rossi.

“Hey kid.” Morgan says, putting a hand on his shoulder.

Spencer tenses at the nickname. He had gotten maybe a little bit better at things that reminded him of you, but it was still incredibly hard.

Spencer clears his throat, “Could you maybe.. not call me that Derek?” He asks, keeping his voice low.

Morgan nods, tentatively taking his hand off of Reid’s shoulder.

“Are you sure you’re ready to work, Spence?” JJ asks, looking toward him sympathetically.

“Yes. I’m ready.” Spencer says, holding his ground.

What the team didn’t know, is that Spencer had been working for the past month.

He had been trying to find Jackson Price. He had been constantly studying Price’s behaviors. Trying to figure out where he would go, where he would strike next, if he would even strike next.

Spencer had even taken a trip back to California, without the FBI’s knowledge.

An obsession had formed, but Spencer was too grief-driven to ignore it.

JJ nods, and Garcia begins to deliver the case. It was a double homicide in Florida, with a note left at the scene that indicated more murders to come.

“Wheels up in 30.” Hotch says, standing up.

Spencer stays at the table for a moment, processing the fact that he will be working a case, without you there.

Tears had become familiar to Spencer over the past month, so he wiped away the forming new ones on instinct.

He clears his throat, and walks out of the briefing room.

Three months

Three months after your death, Hotch has to hold grief assessments.

He saves Spencer’s for last, as it was arguably the most important.

“How are you doing Reid? I know that you and Y/n had a close relationship.” Hotch asks, testing the waters.

“Do you want me to lie, or tell the truth?” Spencer says, answering a question with a question.

“Obviously I’d prefer you tell the truth.” Hotch says, looking at Spencer.

“Did I ever tell you what Jackson Price said before he shot Y/n?” Spencer asks, his leg bouncing.

“No, I don’t believe you did.” Hotch says.

“He told me to try to keep her alive until the medics came.” Spencer says, a tear falling down his face as he relived the experience.

“He told me he wanted to see how good of a “doctor” I really was.” Spencer continues, “But she was ready to let go Hotch. You should’ve seen her. She made jokes, while she was minutes away from dying!” Spencer laughs in the middle of the tears that were falling.

“I held her hand, and I felt the life leave from it. So Hotch, I’m not really feeling okay.” Spencer stands up, wiping tears from his face.

“Feel free to say i’m not ready to be a part of this team. Because without Y/n on it, I'm not sure I want to be.” And with that, Spencer leaves.

Six months

Six months after your death, Spencer feels like he betrayed you.

He told someone what had actually happened in your final moments.

Spencer isn’t sure what came over him, he had repeated over and over again to himself, that that moment was to only be for you two.

But whenever someone would mention you, it would always begin with “Spencer’s friend Y/n” and he hated that.

You weren’t just friends, and that was something Spencer knew long before you died. There was always a special bond there.

Whenever you would go over to Spencer’s apartment and have a movie marathon, you two would be as close as can be.

You would fall asleep on him, and it would help Spencer go to sleep faster.

Every time you would touch him when he was feeling stressed, it would put him at ease.

You two were more than friends, but there was the unspoken rule that you couldn’t be together.

The unspoken rule that it couldn’t work, you two had both seen too much horror.

Spencer didn’t need to be in a defined relationship with you to enjoy who you were as a person, and how you made him feel.

He was just glad he got closure in the end, and you died knowing how he felt about you.

Penelope was the first person he told about your final moments.

It was during one of the times Spencer came over to her apartment. They had been doing it a lot more often. Penelope and Spencer were the closest to you, and they figured it was good to spend time together.

Spencer and her were watching a movie, when Penelope suddenly paused it.

“Can I ask you a question?” She asks, setting the remote down.

“Yeah, what is it?” Spencer replies, furrowing his eyebrows.

“It’s about Y/n.” Penelope says, a slight look of regret on her face.

Spencer clears his throat, looking down, “Go ahead.” He says.

“Is there something you haven’t told us about her death? I’ve just noticed something weighing on you.” Penelope says.

Shock covers Spencer’s face. He hadn’t expected anyone to notice. He was on a team of profilers sure, but they weren’t supposed to profile each other.

He clears his throat again, “Yeah, um..” He begins, working up the courage to tell the story.

“I told you all that Y/n asked me to hold her hand. But after that she asked me a question. She asked me what my biggest regret in life was. I think she was giving me a chance to get something off my chest, because she knew she was dying.” Spencer says, a smile coming onto his face as he remembers how thoughtful you were.

“I told her that my biggest regret in life was not telling her how I felt about her.” Spencer continues, “And then she said she loved me, and I said it back. Then we kissed. Then she closed her eyes, I like to think that she wanted the last thing she saw to be my face, the happiest it’s ever been. Because it was. I’ve never been happier than in that moment.” Spencer says, his voice breaking and the tears falling freely.

Penelope envelops him in a hug, and he returns it. For the past 6 months, he’d been crying alone. It felt great to tell someone finally.

“Would you like to know something?” Penelope asks, breaking away from the hug to look Spencer in the eye.

“What?” Spencer asks, keeping his voice low in hopes it wouldn’t break again.

“I want to say it was a month after she came to the BAU, Y/n came into the tech room, nervously telling me how cute she thought you were. She finished by saying that she just enjoyed spending time with you, and that she always cherished your time together.” Penelope tells him.

Spencer smiles. He remembers the time he had that realization too.

You had brought him coffee one day, and you remembered just how he liked it. Spencer didn’t even remember telling you, so maybe you had just picked up on it.

“I really miss her.” Spencer confesses.

“I know honey, I miss her too.” Penelope replies.

After that, Spencer is a bit more open to the team.

One year

One year after your death, Spencer has a very bad day.

He has a nightmare the night before the one year anniversary of your death. The exact same events replay, but at the end, you tell him how much you hate him. How he couldn’t do anything to save you.

Spencer wakes up in a cold sweat, heavily breathing. He shakes himself, assuring himself it isn’t real.

He hasn’t had a dream like that in months, and it shakes him.

The team isn’t on a case thankfully, so Spencer picks up his phone, and calls Hotch.

“Yeah Reid?” Hotch answers on the second ring.

“Hey Hotch, could I take the day off today?” He asks, voice still sleepy.

“Yes, the entire team is actually taking the day off. It’s a hard day for us all, but I know especially for you.” Hotch says, the sympathy in his voice has been easier to pick up on nowadays.

“Thanks Hotch.” Spencer says, setting down the phone.

He sighs, and gets up to take a shower. His apartment is silent, a reminder of how his life feels without you.

After he gets out of the shower and puts on his clothes, Spencer is at a loss. He has no idea what to do that day.

Nothing feels nice enough to celebrate your life. That’s what he should be doing, right? That’s what you would want him to do, right?

Then, he has an idea.

Spencer grabs his keys, and heads out the door. He gets into his car, and begins to drive.

He arrives at the coffee shop that you two used to go to all the time. Spencer hasn’t been there in a year.

He clears his throat, and gets out of his car. He walks into the shop, the bell ringing, signaling he was there.

Spencer takes in the scene. He looks at the table where you always sat, telling anecdotes about your hometown. He smiles, you were always so talkative.

He walks up to the counter, and orders the coffee you used to always order. Spencer pays, and goes to sit down at your table.

He sits for a moment, remembering, something he’s been doing a lot. And then, his name is called for his drink.

Spencer smiles at the worker who hands him his drink, thanking them. He goes back to your table.

He sits there in silence, drinking his coffee. It’s nice, peaceful even. It felt good to remember you like this.

After Spencer finishes his drink, he stands up to leave. He presses his lips to his hand, and his hand to the table.

Three years

Three years after your death, Jackson Price is found dead.

It was a pretty normal day at the BAU, your death anniversary was coming up, but it seemed that everyone was more content nowadays.

Even Spencer was doing a lot better. He still thought about you often, but mostly good thoughts. His nightmares would only come back around your death date.

Hotch walks into the bullpen, “I need everyone in the briefing room. Now.” He says, walking up to the room already. The rest of the team follows

After everyone sits down, Hotch begins. “This is about Y/n.” He starts. Everyone goes quiet, you haven’t been brought up in a long time.

“Early this morning, a body was found in Southern California. The body has been ID’ed as Jackson Price.” Hotch says.

The room is somehow even more silent than it was before. The only sound is Spencer’s chair scraping the floor as he quickly walks out of the room.

“I’ll go talk to him.” Emily says, following Spencer out of the door.

Emily finds him in one of the many abandoned offices in the building.

She sits beside Spencer, pulling her chair close to his, “What’s the matter Reid? Isn’t this what you wanted?” Emily asks.

Spencer looks up at her, his facial expression difficult to tell because of the darkness of the room.

“That is what I wanted, Emily. But I wanted to be the one who did it. I wanted to shoot him just the way he did Y/n. I spent months looking for him, and I never found him.” Spencer says, shaking his head.

“You never told us that.” Emily says, frowning. Spencer grimaces.

“I didn’t want you all to think I couldn’t move on.” He explains in a low voice.

“Spencer. You have helped each and every one of us with personal vendettas over the years. We would’ve done the same thing in a heartbeat.” Emily tells him, putting a hand on his shoulder.

“I don’t know, I guess my mind was clouded.” Spencer says, unsure of himself.

“Hey.” Emily says, wrapping Spencer in a hug. Spencer had been way more accepting of those in the past years. “We are all here for you.” Emily says, looking at him.

Spencer nods, his eyes watery, “Do you want to go back in there?” Emily asks him.

Spencer nods again, and they both stand up. When Spencer walks back into the briefing room, everyone gives him sympathetic looks, but not the ones they usually give. They give understanding looks. They’ve all mostly gone through similar things.

Spencer sighs, glad that his family is there for him.

Five years

Five years after you die, Spencer gets into a relationship.

It felt... weird that Spencer had feelings for someone else besides you. Before you died, he really wasn’t one for relationships. His work was too much, and it stopped him from making relationships outside of the FBI.

Then, after you died, he had another excuse. Whenever someone would ask him out, women tended to be more forward than him these days, he would tell them that his girlfriend had died. That he was still mourning the loss of her.

When he met his now girlfriend, Gianna, he had just told her that you were his girlfriend, and you had died in the line of duty.

It was too long of a story to explain that you weren’t actually dating, but the feelings and basically everything else was still there.

Gianna actually reminded him a lot of you. She was bubbly, held a good job, and understood him somewhat.

Gianna was a good person to have as your first girlfriend after a hard breakup, or loss. But something happens that makes Spencer realize that she is not a good fit.

It was around the 5 year anniversary of your death, and Spencer and Gianna had been together for maybe 6 months.

The one thing about Gianna, was that she was very needy. Spencer loved her, and he had expressed that quite recently. It was obvious that Gianna wanted to settle down soon.

It was obvious that Spencer wasn’t ready for that.

The dreams always came back around your death date, and Spencer had learned to deal with them.

But he didn’t know how to deal with them if someone else was around him.

Gianna was spending the night, it was late and Spencer offered. It wasn’t the first time they’d done this, but they weren’t living together by any means.

They were both asleep in Spencer’s bed, when Spencer had his dream. It was the same as it usually is, the exact same events of your death replay, but at the end you don’t tell him that you love him.

Spencer wakes up, head shooting up, and he wipes the sweat off of his forehead. He turns, and finds Gianna looking at him. A half-concerned, half- disgusted look is on her face.

“What was that about?” She asks Spencer.

“Oh, um, around her death date, I have nightmares about Y/n.” Spencer says softly. He only told the people on his team about his nightmares.

“Oh.” Gianna said, rubbing her eyes, “It’s been 5 years, I thought those would’ve gone away by now.” She said.

“I watched her die, Gianna.” Spencer says. He always got defensive when it came to you.

“I know, it’s just been a long time.” She explained, “Let’s go back to sleep bub” Gianna says, turning back over.

Spencer laid with his eyes open the rest of the night. He could never sleep after a nightmare with you in it.

Spencer broke up with Gianna shortly after that.

Ten years

Ten years after your death, Spencer visits your grave.

He brings you dandelions. You always said that they were your favorite flower. When Spencer brought up that they were actually weeds, and an invasive species, you said “That’s why I love them. They are outcasts, just like me.”

He smiles at the memory, something he did often.

Spencer thought it was sort of cheesy to talk at someone’s grave, until it came to you.

He decided today would be the first time he’d do it, he wanted to talk to you.

He sits down in front of your headstone, crisscross, and sets the flowers down. Then, he begins to talk.

“Hey Y/n. I think i’ve gotten to the point where I don’t cry when I think of you. I try to only think of good memories of you. God. I really miss you Y/n, I really fucking miss you. I miss the way you would tell me your thoughts on a case, or how you would explain your theories about TV shows. I miss having Harry Potter movie marathons with you. I don’t know. I just miss your energy. I’m glad I got to tell you how I feel Y/n. You deserved that much. A lot has happened since you’ve been gone, I wish you would’ve been there to see it. You could’ve helped me through a lot of it. Anyway, I’m rambling. I love you baby. Always have, and always will.”

And with that, Spencer presses a kiss to his hand, and presses his hand to your headstone.

~

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