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aoioozora · 22 hours

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Simon.

Part 9

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8

Character: Simon Riley / Ghost Content: Biker! Ghost x Fem! Reader, strangers to lovers, fluff, civilian au

Tags: @cmbghost @gluttonybiscuits @paintlavillered @eatingtheworldsoffanfiction @keiraslayz

@iimichie @mxtokko @chocolate-noodles @akurab @xoxobooksstuff

The waterfall, as expected, was a small one, but no less delightful to see. The falling water cascaded in a white, bubbly froth over the mossy rocks that naturally arranged themselves in steps, and spilled into the large plunge pool below. The rush of water, the chirp of birds, and the rustle of trees in the breeze relaxed everyone…

Except Johnny.

Restless as he was, he immediately threw off his t-shirt and cannonballed into the water to have a dip, making a splash that almost rivalled a meteor falling into the sea. The ladies, who were washing the sweat off their faces by the banks, were victims of this mini tsunami.

“John! Stop splashing around so much!” screeched Lindsey, her face flushed with annoyance as she watched him doggy paddle in the deeper part of the plunge pool.

But that only provoked him to splash around some more and laugh at the annoyed look on her face. “C’mon, dinna fash yersel. It's a braw day, have some fun!” he chortled as he dove and resurfaced, mimicking a shark.

Simon watched Johnny's antics in the water and wanted to get in for a swim too, but hesitated. If it weren’t for the ladies, his shirt would be off and he’d be in the water in an instant.

“Are you gonna swim, Ghosty?” asked Gaz, who had also taken off his t-shirt and was doing a couple stretches before he could take a dip.

“No, I’m fine.” Simon shrugged, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“You sure, mate?” Gaz’s eyes flickered briefly towards the ladies as he leaned close to whisper, “You know you can show off those guns to her, right?”

He glanced at ____, who was now sitting on some rocks next to Lindsey, having their feet dipped in the water. He could take Gaz’s advice and he knew his body was impressive, but other things about his torso made him conscious.

“Come on, don’t be such a pussy,” Gaz nudged Simon’s arm, smirking, “She’ll like it. And besides, you don't want her to be taken by someone else, do you? Might as well show her that body and secure her, yeah?”

That flipped the switch for him.

“Right then, fuck it.” He instantly took off his shirt and threw it aside.

The two then climbed up the rocks by the banks and dove into the water to join Johnny. While Lindsey was busy now secretly giggling watching the Scotsman, ____ got her once in a lifetime opportunity to see Simon with far less clothes than usual.

Except for the pair of his knee-length shorts, he was naked. His skin was pale except the slight tan on his arms and upon his pecs were etched a few more tattoos similar to the sleeve tattoo on his arm. His body was built and muscular like that of an active soldier or a firefighter, with broad shoulders, well built pectoral and abdominal muscles, and built arms. All his muscles were built to be usable and not for display, and he actually looked strong.

She stared, borderline ogled even, scanning every last bit of his exposed torso, wondering about how strong he was and how much he could carry without breaking a sweat. Of course, all of this was precious information that Frederick would inherit.

“Babe, look at them!” Lindsey nudged ____ out of her reverie to direct her sight to the fun that the men were having.

Simon and Johnny managed to find two large sticks and, pretending to be mediaeval swordsmen… or gladiators engaged in a duel, both screaming “En garde!” and “you fool!” at each other as they clashed sticks. Gaz was busy filming it all and egging them on to fight.

“Boys will be boys,” remarked Lindsey with a chuckle as she too took a video of them. “Men find stick, men play with stick, men happy,” she added, looking at her friend to hear her thoughts.

But ____ didn't hear a word Lindsey said. She was far too busy storing her mental database with the sights of the men frolicking, stick-fighting, and throwing water at each other.

The sight that took the cake was Simon's smile. It wasn't his usual polite little smiles or his teasing smirks, but a full-blown grin of pure enjoyment and happiness. She watched the way his cheeks, flushed with exertion, raised up to his eyes; how his nose crinkled. His laughter was a loud roar, surprisingly, louder than those of his two friends. Pulling her legs up to her chest, she rested her chin on her knee and watched Simon with a dreamy eye, completely taken in by how handsome his genuine laughter made him, yet another thing for Frederick to inherit.

“I caught a fesh!” came Johnny's scream after some minutes of brawling in the pool. The two ladies looked and indeed, the Scotsman was found standing in the middle of the water holding up a huge, writhing fish in his hands like it was a trophy. “Oi Gaz, take ma picture! I need tae put this on ma Instagram.”

“Bruv, did you catch that with your bare hands?” exclaimed Gaz as he came up with his camera, taking a couple photos while the Scotsman waded towards the banks, posing with his prized catch. Johnny announced that he did, and then explained his unorthodox process.

“Your bum’s out the window,” Simon, who now joined them, decided to let Johnny know that he wasn’t making any sense.

“Say it in a Sco’ish accent, mate,” Johnny piped, smirking, “It’s ‘yer bum’s oot the windae’,”

“Right then, it looks like we're having fish and chips for lunch today.”

“Fuckin’ pussy,” Johnny teased, rolling his eyes.

The men decided to emerge from the water and call the ladies to prepare to return to the cabin. As they trudged back, Johnny excitedly showed off his catch to Lindsey, who he found out wasn't very keen on fish. The Scotsman, taking full advantage of it, would try to sneakily touch her arm with the cold, wet fish, making her squirm and shiver. Johnny and Gaz lightheartedly teased her for being averse to a dead fish, but she didn’t find it funny at all.

After they reached the cabin, Simon immediately hit the shower, and Johnny and Gaz helped the ladies unload the car. Johnny had the ladies take all of their personal belongings inside the cabin and encouraged them to explore when they were done. And so they did.

The interiors were filled with the pleasant scent of aged wood mixed with the musty smell of dust, which made Lindsey open the uncurtained windows to let in some fresh air. The small living room had two plastic covered couches in the center, facing each other. Across was a clean furnace and mantel made with stone, empty, clean, and undecorated. On their left was a moderately sized kitchen equipped with basic tools and vessels, and on their right were two empty bedrooms which the ladies wandered into. One king sized bed sat in each room, and one bathroom united both the rooms in the middle. The bathroom was occupied by Simon, who was busy washing himself inside after the swim.

When he had finished and was dressed in fresh clothes, he threw his bath towel over his wet head and was about to step out when he overheard the ladies talking.

“Oh, where is my camera when I need it?” he heard ____ exclaim.

There was a pause, and then a surprised quip from Lindsey, “What’s this, why’d you bring your Little Simon?”

Bigger Simon had to do a double take.

Deathly curious to know what this ‘Little Simon’ was, he cracked open the door slightly and peeked out. He saw a stuffed toy in Lindsey’s hand, a skeleton plush, the very one he won for ____ at the arcade.

His eyes widened slightly. His heart picked up speed. “She calls it Little Simon?”

He wasn’t sure what to even feel, but he definitely felt a flurry of butterflies in his stomach. “But why?” And then he remembered that it was probably because of his skull printed mask, the motorcycle gloves, and his tattoos.

“I kinda can’t seem to go anywhere without him,” he heard ____ say softly in response to Lindsey, sounding a little shy as she took the soft toy from her friend’s hand and stuffed it back in her backpack and continued looking for her camera.

“You have the real man himself, and you’ll be around him until tomorrow morning,” Lindsey answered with a teasing smirk.

“I know, I know,” ____ chuckled, “But still, I have a bit of an attachment to this little guy.”

“Because he gave it to you,” Lindsey playfully shoved her friend’s shoulder. “You know, I might be a little reconciled to you two being a thing, especially after he helped you hike today.”

____ smiled at that. “I’m glad to have your approval, mum.”

“Oh, shut up,” Lindsey rolled her eyes, also smiling.

Simon, in the meantime, had to keep himself from punching the wall to keep his joy at bay. Although he shouldn’t have eavesdropped, he still gained valuable insight on ____’s feelings for him. His cheeks flushed red, his chest felt like it was going to explode, and an uncontrollable smile tugged his lips until the muscles in his face felt sore.

“Let's fucking go!” Simon clenched his fists, smirking triumphantly, “Alejandro, you absolute fucking loser.”

The ladies soon found the camera, took their photos and then stepped outside the room. Only then did Simon finally step out, exhaling heavily and pressing his damp bath towel on his warm face to cool it down.

He gingerly stepped out of the room, pausing to hear if the ladies were still around. It was silent. Exhaling again, he promptly stepped outside to find out what everyone was up to. Johnny and Gaz were setting up the tent, and the ladies were helping them secure the pegs in the ground.

“Ghosty!” Johnny called as soon as Simon was out the front door, “Can ye chop up some wood? We need tae get the fire pit burning.”

“Aye,” Simon nodded, giving his damp hair one last ruffle to dry it before hanging it up on the drying rack on the porch and turning around the corner to go to the woodshed at the back.

Gaz decided it was his turn to take a shower and left the tent with Johnny and the ladies. Johnny, feeling a little cheeky, told ____, “Why don’ ye help Simon out with the wood? Lindsey and I can pitch the tent by ourselves.”

She immediately picked up the hint. “Alright, then,” she said with a half-smile, leaving the two by themselves.

As soon as she was gone, Johnny asked, smirking as he pretended to adjust the tent cloth on the rods, “What’s the craic, hen?”

“Nothing much,” she answered, shrugging.

“I’m offended ye didn’t like ma catch,” he said playfully, enjoying her reactions to him just existing.

“I don’t even like fesh!” she exclaimed, her own Scottish accent unexpectedly slipping in between her normally spoken RP accent.

Johnny was pleasantly surprised by the slip. “Yer Sco’ish?” he asked, sounding amused.

Her fair face flushed red with embarrassment, which confused Johnny somewhat. “Yeah, what’s it to you?” she asked, glaring at him.

“Nothin’,” he answered, unable to suppress a curious smirk at her reaction, “Ye hid it well. Pretendin’ tae be Sassenach, are ye?”

“No, I was raised in England.”

“An’ ye dinnae have no Sco’ish accent at all? From your parents?”

“I got rid of it.”

His patriotic self raised a brow at this. “How so?” He asked, “Are ye embarrassed of it?”

She sighed heavily, crossing her arms. “Yes.” He begged her to tell him why this was so and she answered with, “I got made fun of very early on,” she absentmindedly twirled a lock of her wavy hair around her finger, “and so I shed it and spoke in RP.”

“Who made fun of ye?” Johnny demanded with a raised brow, sounding offended for her.

“Oh, just some lads back in school.” She shook her head and waved her hand dismissively.

Johnny growled under his breath, annoyed. “They’re aff their heid!” he exclaimed, “Fuckin’ eejits dinnae ken how bonny our accent is.”

Lindsey had to admit that she felt a little warmed by how offended he was on her behalf.

“Many of them played with my feelings too, especially if they noticed I had a crush on one of them. They made fun of my red hair and me being Scottish, and mimicked my accent. I have no idea why they didn't like any of it,” she added, suddenly feeling the odd, tingly feeling of anxiety a closed-off person gets when they open up unexpectedly.

Johnny was positively furious. “Tha’ so?” he said, crossing his arms, “Then ye don’ need tae be runnin’ after those bloody twats, ye ken? Whit ye need is a real Sco’ish man. He wouldnae take the mick outta ye.”

Lindsey blinked in surprise at this speech, feeling another bout of warmth in her chest. She chuckled and asked, crossing her arms, “And where am I to find a man like this?”

A smirk tugged the corner of Johnny’s lip. “Right in front of ye, pet,” he said, putting a hand on his puffed chest, “I’m yer man and I ken how tae love ye.”

“Bold words,” answered Lindsey, impressed by his confidence.

He shook his head. “If only a Sco'ish man can appreciate a bonny Sco'ish lass like ye,” he flirted, sizing her up and down to bask in her beauty, “then he sure as hell can love her.”

The lady couldn't help but blush and smile at this. She had to admit that he was winning her, but not quite yet.

“I'm not convinced yet. How will I know for sure you'll treat me right and keep it that way?” she challenged, smiling playfully.

“I’ve been askin’ ye tae go oan a date with me, but ye just want tae talk, talk, talk first.” He sarcastically rolled his eyes and flapped his joined fingers to mimic yapping. “I think it’s enough talkin’, yeah? Time to go oan a date an’ see me in action. Whit ye say, pet?”

“Alright, fine,” she relented, “But I have high expectations, so don’t disappoint me.” The smile lingered as she crossed her arms.

He returned her smile, happy to be challenged. “Yer wish is my command.”

To keep his wet hair from troubling him, Simon pulled out a black bandana from his pocket, folded it up oblong and tied it around his forehead. Just as he was about to enter the woodshed, he heard ___ call as she emerged from behind the wall.

“Simon, do you need-” Her words stopped in their tracks when she saw him sporting the bandana, clearly a new look she hadn't seen on him before.

“Need what?” he asked, turning to face her.

She gulped harshly and then croaked out, “...Help?”

“I don’t, but do you want to help?” He turned back to the woodshed and pulled out a log of wood and a splitting axe.

“Yeah,” she answered, watching him place the log of wood on a tree stump that functioned as a chopping block.

He turned back to the woodshed and brought out a small wooden stool, which he handed to her. He then pointed slightly afar off, smiling. “You can sit still over there and look pretty for me.”

She chuckled, “So far away?”

“I’ll be swinging an axe, darling. It’s not gonna be safe for anyone to stay nearby. If you want to watch, it’s best if you stay far away.” He rested the axe head down on the grass, allowing the long handle to lean against his leg while he rolled up the sleeves of his flannel shirt above his elbows, revealing his sturdy forearms.

She took his advice and the stool, and sat across from him, far away for her safety but near enough to talk to him. She watched as he adjusted his sleeves, spread his legs apart slightly, and wiped his hands on his jeans before taking hold of the axe. Placing one hand below the axe head and the other at the butt end, he raised it over his head, twisting his torso slightly and brought it down with all his strength, splitting the wood in half with a satisfying thwack.

She watched him both carefully and dreamily, observing his motions and form as he split the wood; it would be useful information. A sigh escaped her lips, marvelling at his range of vocations; he was a car mechanic, a gardener, and now a lumberjack, and who knew what else was in his repertoire of practical talents. A plumber? An electrician? Her attraction towards him was increasing at an alarming rate, and even Simon could see it in the way she stared at him.

He exhaled, feeling another flutter in his stomach. Every single instance of her interest in him convinced him further and deeper that she preferred him over anyone else, all of it now piling up into a heap in his mind.

The silence was thick, and her staring relentless, and he felt suffocated (in a good way). He wanted to start a conversation but felt his throat go dry. What would he even talk about? He began to sift through the recesses of his mind for a conversation starter.

“Your skelly plush,” he finally began, his voice a little too unstable for his liking, “You seem to like it a lot. I always see it on your Instagram stories.”

“Yeah, I do, it’s cute,” she admitted.

As he split the loose piece of wood with his hand and tossed aside the smaller piece, he couldn’t help but smile at this indirect compliment she was unknowingly paying him.

“He’s your emotional support plushie then?” Simon asked teasingly as he adjusted the larger piece of the split wood on the stump to split it down again.

“He is,” she answered, gazing again as he swung down the axe. “He motivates me to write.”

“Does that mean I motivate you to write?” he wondered as he threw aside the split wood and placed the next log on the chopping block.

“Speaking of writing,” he began, swinging the axe down, “How’s the novel coming along? You said that there were problems with the male lead.”

“Yeah, there was…” she answered, but her voice trailed off when she watched as he yanked out the axe head lodged in the tight crack of the log, dug his fingers in the said crack, and with a grunt, split the wood with his bare hands, letting out a heavy sigh at the end of it.

A delightful tingle coursed through her lower regions, making her press her thighs together and her cheeks flush. Did she just ovulate? If societal norms didn't exist, she'd already be asking him to split her legs apart. Maybe she was in the ovulation part of her cycle.

“This is juicy,” she thought, covering her mouth slightly to hide the embarrassed smile creeping on her face. Frederick was going to be one hell of a man.

Simon in the meantime, not looking at her, turned the split log of wood around to land another blow on it, all the while thinking, “Did she see it?” But when he stole a glance, she was looking elsewhere. He sighed, raising the axe one last time to split the last log of wood they needed.

“What were you saying, love?” He remembered that she stopped mid-sentence.

“Oh,” she blinked, now gulping harshly to keep her sudden spurt of lust at bay, “Yeah, the male lead. I've thankfully gotten a nice fitting model for him to base his character off of, and so far, it's coming along great.”

“Who's the model, then?” he asked, now gathering the pieces of wood and keeping them aside.

She struggled, looking this way and that as she tried to think of someone’s name to say. “Uh, Alejandro,” she spat out. “Fuck, why did I say that?!”

Simon froze for a split second. “Oh, I see,” he said through his teeth, feeling the full force of disappointment and jealousy hit him like a train. Even the delightful little pile of evidence of her interest in him felt like they were given a harsh, vigorous shake as if to say in warning, “Don't get your hopes up.”

He was glad that his back was turned to her because he felt a painful twinge in his chest strong enough to make his eyes narrow and his lips to frown. “Why'd I even bother?”

Swallowing down all his ill feelings, he collected his composure and the wood in his hands and tucked some under his arm. “We're done here. Let's go,” he said, his voice a hint icy and sharp, though he tried to sound casual and normal.

He did a good job at hiding it, because she didn't notice the subtle shift in his tone.

“Let me carry some,” she offered, now standing and walking up to him.

“No, you might get a splinter,” he reasoned.

She frowned. “Come on, please? Let me help,” she begged.

Simon usually could refuse anyone’s help point-blank, and he could be petty and refuse her rudely, but at the sight of her pleading eyes staring at him, he nearly melted. Though he felt bitter, his tender regard for her didn't falter in the slightest. He still didn't want her delicate hands to get hurt, so he turned back to the woodshed again and brought out a pair of gloves. “Wear these first,” he instructed.

Her face beamed as she took the gloves and put them on. Only when she did did he give her a lighter load of the split wood to carry.

He was silent as they carried the wood to the fire pit, but only one thought filled his mind, “Why am I jealous? She's the author. She can choose whoever she wants as a model for her characters. Maybe the male lead is like Alejandro.” And yet, he couldn’t help but feel disappointed and embarrassed by the fact that he thought himself highly enough to be a model for any character in her work. After all, “she went to Alejandro first to discuss the male lead. It’s not any wonder she would choose someone like him.”

By the time they had dropped the wood into the fire pit, they found nobody outside. After starting a fire, the two entered the cabin and found Lindsey and Gaz in the kitchen, prepping the ingredients for lunch while Johnny's bathroom concert made nice background music.

They joined in and Johnny joined soon after. Johnny was in such high spirits that he couldn't stop singing, either under his breath or out loud. He very openly flirted with Lindsey, who was both flattered and offended by it, since she would've preferred him to be more discreet. Gaz and ____ egged Johnny on simply because they wanted to be entertained, but Simon was by himself, silent, sullen, and annoyed by all the noise.

When ____ had her fill of fun, she leaned over to Simon who was busy dicing up some tomatoes. “Simon,” she called.

“Hm?” He responded, his eyes fixated on the tomatoes, not willing to meet her eye.

“You told me that Johnny was a bit of a womaniser,” she said, her voice quiet and a hint worried as she took a bottle of dried peppercorns and tried to open it.

“Yeah, I did.” he answered, watching her trying to pry the tight lid open.

“I'm a bit worried about Lindsey. I hope Johnny won't raise her hopes up too high and break her heart. She seems to really like him.” She grunted, shaking her aching, red hand, still unsuccessful.

His jaw clenched slightly. “You're worried about her and yet you openly support them,” he quipped, taking the bottle from her and twisting the tight lid open easily. He handed the bottle back.

She smiled gratefully at him as she took the bottle and poured out a couple of peppercorns into a small mortar. “Yeah, I kinda do support them, and I think they look great together, but I'm still worried about how Johnny will treat Lindsey long term.”

Simon was silent for a moment, now staring back at the tomatoes that he mindlessly turned into a mush from dicing too much. “What do you want me to do, darling?” he asked.

“I want you to find out if he genuinely likes her,” she said, now in a whisper, now crushing the pepper into a coarse powder with the pestle, “Lindsey… she's more delicate than most people even if she doesn't show it, and she's easily swayed by her emotions too. I would not tolerate it if he broke her heart just for shits and giggles.”

Simon could hear the bitterness in her voice, and from the look on her face, he could tell that she was reliving some experiences. He was tempted to be petty again, but decided against it. He bumped her shoulder gently with his arm in an attempt to reassure her.

“Don't worry, darling. I’ll find out.”

End of Part 9.

Part 10 coming soon :)

This chapter was so hard yet so fun to write. I hope you enjoyed it! As always, leave a comment if you want to be added to my taglist. Thank youu xoxo

Also, you can follow this fic on the tag (#Simon series), which you can find below!

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moonit3 · 2 days

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˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ MAKING YOU MINE

⟡ cw: male yandere, biting, blood, violence towards reader, amab/m! reader but with neutral pronouns, implied future noncon but nothing written about it, choking, toxic behavior.

⟡ word count: 1.5 k

⟡ yandere! male boss x amab! reader

⟡ notes: can this be considered as a rewrite? probably not, since there isn’t much than a few similarities between the original piece with leonard and this one is way better, I promise. unfortunately this won’t include any nsfw content as i still struggling how to write amab! readers, so please don’t mean to me.

when your boss invited you to attend one of the most popular conferences of the world, you had to accept it. not only you would gain an extra bonus from the next couple of months, but also who doesn’t enjoy staying in a five star hotel with everything paid? you didn’t waste time to pack your stuff and travel across the word along with leonard, the ceo of the company you works at.

your mind already made plans to relax at a grand hotel room that has the size of your childhood house, perhaps a bath full of bubbles? sleeping in a bed so soft that makes your body think is clouds? or even better, eating all the food from the menu! that would be amazing plans if you haven’t learn that you will be sharing the same room with leonard himself…

“you look quite disappointed,” he said. “didn’t you know that as my assistant during the conference, you will have to share the bedroom as a way to prevent you from leaking information about my next project.”

the man arrange his tie when his eyes stare at you laying down at the king size bed, already having given up after learning the horrible news of having to be his unwilling roommate for the rest of the travel. it’s almost comical to see that one of his employees is now looking like a dead corpse, he would laugh if hasn’t worry about your current state.

“bold them to assume that i would remember of those secret projects when i can’t even remember of what i ate yesterday.” a laugh came out of your throat when rolling over the bed to reach for your phone. without thiking much, you began scrolling over social media to find something interest or a silly game to lose time before today’s conference start.

when you do find some game worth to waste time, your phone was quickly stolen from your hands by no other than leonard himself.

“give me that!” you got up from the bed and tried to reach for your precious little phone at his hands, even standing on the tips of your toes to try to grab it from him. “don’t be stupid, sir! you are too old to act like a little kid.”

of course, your words didn’t made any difference on his behavior. what would you expect from a guy who inherited dad’s company instead of climbing the social ladder to archive it? you know that leonard is one of those guys who think they can have anything by using money or threats. and you have a feeling that you will fall into his trap soon.

between one of your attempts to reach out for you smartphone, he throws your precious item away into the ground, smashing it in million pieces all over the wooden floor. the sudden loud noise made you freeze in front of him, too scared to act out of fear of what he is going to do next. is he angry at you for acting this way? you hope not, he is the one to blame for it. and he was the one that started it.

silence took over, you didn’t dare to speak a word with leonard’s sharp eyes looking down at your face. damn it, why he got to be so tall? he already looks so intimidating during work hours back at the company and now having smashed your phone to the ground only twice that feeling growing inside your body.

before you create any courage to say a word or two, he began laughing like a mad man while you can only imagine what is going on inside his head. seconds ago, he looked ready to yell at you for his own mistakes and now he is just laughing? rich people are weird, your grandfather was right.

one of his hand lays on your cheek, caressing it like he has known you for ages. it seems that make him feel better, his lips curves into a small smile with his finger trancing all over you [pale/tanned/dark…] face.

in your perspective, his affection or whatever you call that, it’s making you feel horrible. the expression on your face says all, you aren’t comfortable by having a man touching your face like this and you wish he stopped with it. however, when you try to move away, leonard harshly grabs your face and brings you even closer to him. his touch on your face is cruel, almost like he could rip apart the skin away from your cheeks and just throw you across the room.

“you are pathetic, [name].” he said. “you know that, right?”

his words hurt you, it made you feel horrible knowing that a man you often look up to is saying something like that right at your face. between the newly sobs coming out of your throat, you manage to beg him to let it go and unfortunately, he doesn’t listen to your pleading. instead, his grip only gets tighter as he brings your closer to him, now you can feel his breath right at your neck. the smells reminds you of those expensive drinks and even more expensive cologne that you could only dream to afford for yourself.

your mind was preparing you for a slap, maybe a punch right onto your nose that would leave you feeling like a piece of trash. but imagine your expression when you only felt his lips brushing against yours in a lustful and rough kiss. by your instincts, you succeeded push him away, just for a fleeting moment you saw his eyes full of fury, making you freeze.

“i-I’m sorry, sir! I didn’t meant to—“

you didn’t get to finish your pleadings, not when leonard’s hands quickly wrapped around your throat and began squeezing it like you were nothing, but one of those squishy toys. his strength is too much for you to fight against it, so you simply give up in trying to put up a struggle for him.

it took less than a minute to your vision to become pure darkness, leaving you completely at the mercy of your boss. even with your mind telling to open your eyes and try to put fight, you body can’t handle simple commands to put a fight against him. indeed, you are stupid to believe that you had a chance to fight leonard…

…..

….

…

water.

the liquid that means essences of all living being of this planet flows over your naked skin, hitting the large bruise around your neck left and the freshly ones that leonard gave you as the result of trying to mark you as his only. the crimson coming out of newly formed bite marks around your chest and neck was way too much be clean by a cloth. so he had to bring you inside the bathtub, took off your clothes and didn’t waste the chance to join you in.

there isn’t a place where leonard hasn’t touch your sleeping body, well with the exception of a certain place. the man would wait to tease your cock for when you fully regain your consciousness, just so he can admire your lewd expressions and record it to keep you in place. he knows it’s wrong, but can he blame himself when you are just too addicted? you are a drug that he can’t control it and he wants more and more of the weird sensation that you brings to him.

once the blood stopped coming out of your injuries, leonard decided it was the perfect time just relax inside the bathtub without caring about the world outside this hotel room. he turned the water off, letting the cold air hit his skin as the water disappeared down the drain. even sleeping, you body searched for a heat source and as he expected, your body moved around to find a heat source that is him.

it’s pathetic how your body acts without any shame to get closer to his, trying to bind yourself onto him to keep yourself warm. how leonard wishes to have brought his waterproof camera to catch this intimate moment between you and him, but there is no worry when he knows there will plenty of moments like this to record in a soon future.

he knows your life won’t be the same when you open your eyes to see your boss handing your naked body so personal, and leonard can already imagine how surprised you will be when hearing about your new position as his spouse. will you try to fight with him? probably not, only if you wish to carry more marks over you body. the most applaudable possibility is you agreeing with his statement with fear controlling both your physique and mind, afraid that he will killed you.

“my dear mine,” carrying your sleeping figure towards the bed, leonard can only smirk when taking a final look before putting a robe on you. “you have no idea what you makes me feel.”

@moonit3 . don’t repost it, don’t modify it, don’t plagiarize, translate it without my permission.

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ladyvialana · 3 days

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Very much enjoyed the first season of The Dead Boy Detectives.

It was fun, with great characters, interesting storylines, good pacing, and a fantastic ability to balance light-hearted storytelling with some pretty fucked up content at times.

Episode 1 was a little clunky and exposition heavy, but it's only really in that first episode (unlike fucking Wednesday!) and it's pretty easy to look past once they get into the main story. The rest of the episodes are much smoother.

Character interactions are great and all of the characters feel rounded with an actual backstory that influences their interactions and distinct personalities and traits that affect their actions. They're not just plot devices or vehicles for narrative.

Before going into any more detail, I'll just say I really enjoyed it. It's probably not as sophisticated or polished writing or style-wise as The Sandman, but it's still a really good spin off. I'd almost put it in the same vein, tone-wise, as The Umbrella Academy, though perhaps not as irreverent. Much better than similar Netflix teen supernatural dramas like Wednesday or Sabrina (and probably more mature and sophisticated, storytelling-wise than those shows).

I really enjoyed it, am looking forward to/hoping for a second season, and will definitely be watching again.

More detailed spoilers under the cut for those interested in my opinions about a few specific storylines/characters/episodes:

SPOILERS:

I am honestly surprised we don't have more people hitting on Charles. He is genuinely charming and charismatic as well as kind of open and sincere. Like, Edwin's a standoffish Edwardian public school boy with weird interests and zero people skills. I adore him. But he has negative charisma, especially compared to Charles' eyeliner and grin. Like, why is everyone chasing after Edwin? It's a role reversal I can definitely get behind, but no one is trying to get up into Charles' personal space aside from Crystal? Really??? And even she probably wouldn't have gone for it if he hadn't made it obvious he was interested in her first. Like, I really do get what the writers were trying to go with here, but it's one of those choices that kind of stretch narrative believability a little.

In saying all of that, I'm kind of a sucker for queer pining arcs that could go either way. So the not-so-subtle reveal of Edwin's feelings was both beautiful and painful in the best ways.

Episode 7 was a highlight for me. I'd been waiting for the pay-off from Edwin's backstory and the hellfire sword hanging over his head. But the flashback to Charles' death was probably my favourite scene in the series. Everything about that episode was fantastic, from the tension to the individual mini character arcs in the episodes (Nico coming in clutch with her reading comprehension skills! Crystal finally kicking David's ass!), to the beautiful release of the confession in Hell. I loved all of the insight we got into all of the main characters, knowing the truth of the kind of people they are. Knowing that, yeah, these are all good people who would do anything to help, and who love fiercely. But also, that doing what you can for the people you love sometimes involves meat cleavers and Molotov cocktails.

#dead boy detectives #dead boy detectives spoilers #text #vialana's rambling

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emepe · 2 days

Text

— Pairing: Eren x Reader, friends to lovers

— General info: series, 18+, modern AU, serial killer AU, smut, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort

— Summary: Fate is a tricky thing. Certain situations can’t be avoided as much as certain people’s lives can’t be kept from intertwining. With a serial killer on the loose, and unexpected relationships blooming, how will the universe intervene?

— Chapter summary: The killer has the police fooled. Meanwhile, you and Eren enjoy more of each other’s company.

— Content warnings: slightly nsfw, dry humping, make out, mention of stalking, murder, mention of torture, mention of rape.

— Notes: Welcome to chapter 7 <3 If anyone else would like to be added to the tag list, lmk. Happy reading!

Links: Read on AO3 | Chapter guide | Masterlist

lost signs

“Detective.”

A meek voice pulls Levi's attention from the paperwork scattered across his desk, as a fresh manila folder is promptly set down before him.

“The notes on the autopsy.”

Every other task is instantly abandoned as the raven-haired man grabs the folder and goes through the pages of the autopsy report, along with the notes provided by his subordinate.

Less than an hour later, Levi's knocking on the door of his captain's office, staying true to his habit of walking in before being invited.

“What do you have there?”

Erwin Smith barely spares a proper look at Levi as he continues scrolling through a file on his computer.

“Carly Stratmann's autopsy notes.”

Erwin simply nods, not showing much interest in the topic but not yet doing anything to shoo the stoic detective from his office.

“You're the lead detective on this case. Don't tell me you need me to hold your hand for this.”

Levi clicks his tongue at the remark, but straightens his posture to keep up his stern appearance.

“I think we need to raise a few alarms.”

Erwin shoots a menacing look in his direction, but purses his lips before he can spout another sharp remark.

Levi Ackerman hasn't been working the homicide department for long — just barely a couple of years after transferring from property crime, and just as many major cases under his belt.

His sudden need to raise alarms doesn't come as a surprise to Erwin. The man's got good instincts, albeit he's a bit too quick to act on them for Erwin's liking at times. And that's when he intervenes to rein him in.

On a day when he's so burnt out from work, the task is even more annoying to take on than usual.

“Is it the same M.O. as the Langnar case?”

“Not exactly, but—”

“I'll stop you right there, then,” Erwin firmly says, holding a hand up to make his point, hoping he can cut today's coolly disguised frenzy short.

Though calm and collected — practically icy — on the outside, detective Ackerman has been letting his personal convictions sway his thinking since the Langnar murder.

Erwin doesn't care to know much about his subordinates — it's just a job — but he knows Ackerman has a beloved niece of similar age to the recent murder victims living in the city, and it doesn't take much to deduce that's where his hidden worries stem from.

“There aren't many coincidences, it's true,” Levi states, resisting the urge to harshly spit the words at his superior. After all, a man who wants to be heard, has no need to raise his voice. “But even if these are isolated cases, it wouldn't hurt to… I don't know, set up a curfew… send out more units to patrol at night. Erwin, two women were murdered without a trace of DNA from the culprit.”

He sighs, then mutters the next few words under his breath.

“That's not a fucking coincidence.”

Erwin leans forward into his desk.

“Alright, Ackerman, I'll humor you for a minute.”

His hands clasp together, his chin resting on top as he formulates a question.

“Aside from the lack of DNA and the fact that they're women, is there anything in the autopsy reports that's enough to suspect we've got a serial killer in our hands?”

Levi tenses his jaw, tongue rolling against his cheek before sourly replying.

“No.”

Erwin's eyebrows rise as a sign of finality. But Levi stands his ground, taking his gesture as defiance.

“I get your point. Stratmann could have nothing to do with Langnar. Maybe it was someone they knew or maybe it's not. If that's the case, are two criminals better than one? Is that what we're hoping for?”

Erwin's stern gaze falters for a split second, but he recovers just as quickly.

“How do we discard a serial killer in the making? What if this person hasn't fixed themselves on their M.O.? We can get them early in their career if we make a move right n–”

“We can't make moves based on gut feelings.”

Erwin's statement makes Levi shrink back for the first time since walking into the office.

“Langnar was tortured. Her injuries were consistent with weeks of trauma. Choked, handcuffed, cut, beaten, sliced at the mouth post-mortem, and dismembered. A very tedious and meticulous process, wouldn't you say? She had to have spent weeks in captivity and that points to either a person who was close enough to lure her into their trap or a stalker who observed her before kidnapping her.” He gestures for Levi to hand him the file in his hands, snatching the folder and ripping it open once he's close enough. “Stratmann was sliced at the neck, choked beforehand, raped post-mortem. It's sloppy and clear to have been done on a whim.”

“She was left in a dumpster, too,” Levi reminds him. “Just like Langnar.”

Erwin presses his lips into a thin line, his thick eyebrows weighed down with severity.

“That's not enough to go off of. We can't cry ‘serial killer’ over one measly coincidence.”

Levi can feel himself wavering at Erwin's arguments.

“Can we at least impose a curfew?” he asks.

Erwin heavily sighs, enough for the movement to be caught on his now slumping shoulders.

“As I said, bring me solid proof of a connection and we'll talk.”

“Okay. Spill,” Mikasa orders as soon as she scurries out of the bathroom and plops down criss-crossed on the sofa.

It's Saturday night and you and Sasha are staying over at Mikasa's place for a girl's night.

The living room floor is littered with blankets, cushions and pillows, and the television is playing a random horror movie that has gone ignored since Sasha wondered out loud how Eren was doing a few minutes ago. She seemingly asked nobody in particular, but it was clear you were meant to respond with both girl's eyes set on you the moment the green-eyed man's name came up.

You figured the sleepover was a cover for an ambush. The girls formed a separate group chat for just the three of you, coincidentally the day after your first date with Eren and have been asking to get together for the past week.

You tug nervously at the sleeve of your pajama top, shying away from the expectant gaze that seeps through Mikasa's face mask.

You shrug.

“What do you wanna know?”

“Who made the first move?” Sasha asks, scooting closer to you as if that means she'll get more details.

You ponder for a moment. It's hard to tell. Eren was first to ask you out two months ago, but you were the first to kiss him last Saturday. In a way, you both had a chance to steer the wheel.

When you explain this to the girls, they swoon, falling into a fit of excited giggles.

“I never pegged you for the bold type,” Mikasa grins, lightly smacking your shoulder. “I bet Eren loved that.”

Sasha nods in agreement, giddy.

“I can't believe you didn't tell us right away,” Mikasa pouts.

“I don't think you would've remembered, Mika,” you say. “You had three Long Islands that night.”

“Still, it would've been nice to know,” she sighs dramatically.

“Okay, so you got together the night of the Halloween party,” Sasha reviews. “But what about the day we went to Sunrise? I totally thought you guys had a thing going on back then. I mean, Eren never left your side, even before you got hurt.”

The apple-picking trip seems like so long ago, but the memory remains fresh in your mind. You smile at the mental image of Eren's serious expression as he claimed to never have been so curious to know anyone before you.

“Oh my gosh,” Mikasa squeals, aggressively smacking Sasha’s back as she's reminded of something. “She was feeding him peanuts on the way there. They were so shy, it was adorable.”

Instinctively, your hands come up to cover your face in embarrassment. It didn't even register until now that the people in the backseat witnessed the awkward exchange.

Now that you've tasted the lips that brushed against your fingertips that day, the reminder seems even more embarrassing.

You smack your cheeks lightly in an attempt to ground yourself. The girls watch you amusedly, exchanging knowing glances in between.

“Have you guys… you know.” Mikasa raises her eyebrows suggestively.

Warmth floods your cheeks again.

“Not yet,” you murmur. “We're taking things slow.”

She looks surprised, but nods in support.

“Of course,” she says. “Slow is good.”

“Says the girl who pounced on Jean after one of his gigs because she was jealous.”

“Hey!” Mikasa whines, growing shy at the accusation. “I had to get a message across. He was being petty.”

Sasha throws her head back in laughter.

“No, he was just stupid. He had no idea you liked him back until that night.”

Your gaze flickers between the two girls as you piece their conversation together.

A blushing Mikasa picks up a cushion and chucks it at Sasha’s face who easily avoids the blow and laughs at the raven-haired girl's pout.

“Whatever,” Mikasa groans. She turns to look at you, features instantly shifting into a more cheerful expression.

“So how do you feel?”

“What do you mean?” you ask.

“About Eren.”

“It's only been a week,” you explain.

“So?” she shrugs. “You guys have been spending a lot of time together, haven't you? Armin told me Eren's been driving you to work everyday. That means you've had a lot of one-on-one time.”

Shyly, you lower your head, focusing your gaze on the black and white pattern of the comforter laid beneath you. Your fingers mindlessly trace over the texture of the fabric.

“I guess so.”

Both girls smile.

“So what's the verdict?” Sasha asks.

“I… I really like him,” you sigh, lips tugged into a smile. “Like… really really like him.”

Another round of excited squeals and giggles echoes through the room.

Their thrill only encourages you further, pushing you into a tangent of how thoughtful Eren is and how he always manages to hold you with so much care, bringing you peace each time he's close.

“He makes me feel safe. Is that weird to say?”

Mikasa shakes her head as she peels off the mask from her face, wrinkling the sheet into a ball and chucking it across the room to the trash can in one corner. She misses by an inch.

“Not at all. I don't mean to sound old-fashioned but you have to be with someone who makes you feel cared for.”

Sasha hums in agreement as she shoves a handful of popcorn into her mouth. She holds a finger up, asking you to wait for her to gulp down the snack.

“And someone who makes you laugh, also very important.”

You nod along with Mikasa.

“Oh, and… well, when you get to it… someone you're sexually compatible with,” she adds. “People like to pretend it's not a big deal but it really is. Sex is okay but great sex with someone who knows how to touch you is where you find out if you're in sync. There needs to be communication and understanding and care. It's so fucking important.”

Mikasa looks down at her friend as she pats her head affectionately.

“You're so wise for someone who doesn't have a boyfriend.”

Sasha quirks an eyebrow.

“Hey, just because I'm not blurting it out to everybody doesn't mean I don't have anything going on.”

Mikasa hums contemplatively.

“Do tell.”

The conversation takes a turn to Sasha’s latest sexcapades, and you take turns with Mikasa to look surprised at the stories she shares.

By the end of the night, when you're all teetering the edge of sleep with a third movie serving as background noise, your mind drifts back to the emerald-eyed boy who makes you laugh so easily, draws every emotion from you, and cares for you like it's what he was put on this earth for.

Water pools at your feet out of thin air. You’re stuck in a dark void with no end, yet the water you’re eyes frantically search the source of keeps rising at a startling speed, soaking little by little into your clothes until it weighs you down.

Running seems futile. The void has no end and the water keeps steadily climbing up your body, so who knows how long you’ll have until you’re fully submerged — with no exit in view. Even if you could run, the weight of your drenched clothes would only pull you back. But you can’t even move anyway, you realize. You’re stuck in place, feet unable — or unwilling — to even take a couple of waddling steps.

The water is up to your hips now. With trembling hands, you reach down and scoop at the liquid. It’s thick and with a smell so rancid it stretches through the infinite length of the emptiness you stand in. The water’s filthy.

Your hands drop at your sides in an unsettling daze. The next second, your breath grows shallow and you start pulling at your feet as the water reaches your neck. Tears prick at your eyes as you cry at your feet, begging for them to move, to lift from the ground so you could at least make some weak attempt at reaching the surface for air.

Suddenly, a light. Pure white shines brightly from far ahead, where a golden silhouette stands at the threshold between darkness and light — the void’s borders. The other person bangs their fists at the invisible wall keeping you apart, yelling something you can’t make out. Are they yelling at you? No, they don’t even seem to notice your presence. So who are they yelling at? Up at the sky… They’re yelling something up at the sky. But what are they saying? Who does the golden silhouette even belong to?

Your left foot unsticks from the ground unprompted. A sharp breath is all you take before you make your first step toward the light, hand midair to call for the figure’s attention. Just then, an unknown body pulls you into them from behind, crashing your body down into the murky water, where your lungs fill with filth and your eyes flutter shut.

You wake with a small gasp coming through your lips. Still stiffened by the strange dream, your eyes are all that wander the unfamiliar room. The television is set to a screensaver, likely triggered by an extended lack of attention to whatever on-demand production was playing before you fell asleep. There’s a clutter of takeout containers on the coffee table and used glasses with remnants of soda that can safely be assumed to be flat by now.

Slowly, you stir on the velvet green sofa you’re lying on, when you take note of the firm hold around your waist, followed by the soft exhales released onto the crown of your head. You look down at the familiar watch wrapped around the wrist of the hand that holds you in place.

Oh, you think. That’s right. I’m at Eren’s place.

He’s been having trouble catching up on work, meaning he’s had to stay up late for the past couple of nights. He’s a stickler about getting a good night’s rest, so the temporary change in work shifts has thrown him off quite a bit. You told him to stay home and rest — that you could go to the movies another time; next Sunday was fine with you — but he insisted on seeing you, even if it meant a more casual hangout in his living room with Chinese food and a comedy-drama film from the 2000s playing on the TV.

At some point in the evening, the late hours caught up to him all at once and he even managed to get you to stay with him, wrapped in his arms as his sleepiness found its way to your body as well.

Craning your neck, you peer at Eren’s sleepy face from the corner of your eye. You smile. He’s got an innocent look about him even in his sleep. His lips are parted just enough to take and release soft breaths. You sink back into the couch, wiggling around to find the comfortable position you were previously in.

Eren feels you moving and his arm instantly pulls you closer to his body. His warmth transfers through every layer of clothing, enveloping you in a warm embrace. In his sleep, he mumbles a string of words you can’t quite comprehend under his breath, but the vibrations against your back coax you back into a peaceful slumber.

The next time you wake up, it's already getting dark out. The coffee table has been cleared of its mess, and the body lying behind you is no more. Forced by the absence of his arms around you, you trudge out of the living room to look for him as you rub the sleep from your eyes.

He's in the kitchen, back to you, filling a glass with cold water from the fridge.

Leaning against the threshold, you watch him adoringly, marveling at his toned figure from behind. He chugs his first glass of water down, refilling it as soon as he finishes. As he brings the glass to his lips once more, he turns around, eyebrows rising slightly when he takes in your presence.

“Boo,” you smile, standing straight and making your way over to him.

He abandons the glass of water as soon as you meet him, opting to use his hands to push you closer to him by the small of your back as yours rest on his shoulders.

“Did I wake you?” he asks.

You shake your head.

“Just felt lonely, all of a sudden.”

An amused air blows through his nose.

Your hands find a way to his hair, fingers carding through the strands as he keeps his gaze fixed on your face.

His hair has gotten longer, and the strands around his face now cover his forehead, tickling the skin. It’s not messy, by any means, but it gives him an edgier look. The duality of Eren Jaeger’s appearance is a wonder to you. He’s got a way of tipping the scales between cute and sexy with every little thing he does.

You smile at the few rebellious locks that poke out, still fixed in the angle provided by his nap.

“What?” he asks, mirroring your smile.

“Your hair’s getting long,” you murmur.

“I’ll get a haircut soon, don’t worry,” he replies, leaning forward to place a chaste kiss on the corner of your mouth, amused by the way you follow after him once he starts retreating from the contact. He kisses you once more to keep you from pouting.

“I didn’t say anything,” you chuckle. “If you want to grow out your hair, that’s fine. You don’t have to keep it short. I was just pointing it out.”

He shakes his head, humming in denial.

“Nah. This part’s starting to bug me. I just haven’t had time to get it cut,” he explains, brushing back the hair covering his forehead. He proceeds to squeeze your waist on either side. “But what do you prefer?”

“I don’t know,” you mutter with a shrug.

“Gun to your head, which looks better?” he smiles.

His extremist question earns him an eye roll but you answer him nonetheless after a beat.

“I like your short hair,” you finalize earnestly.

He grins, cupping your face with one hand as he places a kiss on your cheek — then on your jaw, and one in the crook of your neck.

“Yeah?” he murmurs against the sensitive skin.

You nod, a small smile dancing across your lips at his tender affections.

“You look very handsome with a clean undercut. The day I met you I actually thought you were really good-looking.”

He pulls away from his task on your neck to stare at you in disbelief.

“And yet you refused to go out with me. I can’t believe you.”

He shakes his head, clicking his tongue in mock disappointment.

You laugh. The sound swells him with pride — it lights up the room.

“Looks aren't everything, dummy. You're so shallow.”

It's your turn to feign disappointment while he stands there, amused.

“Right, right,” he nods. “I forgot you fell for me because I'm a strong and dependable man.”

He flexes his muscles, making a whole show out of his pointed remark.

You roll your eyes, but the warmth creeping up your face is hard to deny.

“Isn't that right?” he teases.

You don't humor him with an answer — there's no real need for it.

With his hands settled comfortably on your hips, he guides you backward, until your back is pressed against the counter, before he hoists you up and sets you onto it with ease. You welcome him between your thighs with a smile, breath hitching when he caresses your knee over your jeans and buries his face in the crook of your neck.

“My baby,” he coos, pressing an open-mouthed kiss onto your skin.

You giggle at the teasing meaning behind the affectionate name, heart fluttering at the feeling of him smiling against your skin.

The both of you keep your positions for a while — him breathing in your perfume while you stroke his soft hair tenderly.

Being with Eren feels so easy. It's a wonder how comfortable you feel with barely a week tallied for your relationship. Each morning and evening when he drives you to and from work have definitely helped.

After your sobbing confession outside of your apartment, you apologized for making Eren feel as though he was troubling you by being so attentive.

All the accumulated trauma in your heart had ironically made you the perpetrator of making him believe there was no real place for him in your life even after you accepted his liking for you. He didn't ask any followup questions that night, but he understood and vowed to be patient.

You're still trying to be okay with that — his unmoving loyalty. But it's easier to accept when you remind yourself he wouldn't stick around if he didn't want to.

Looking down at the boy in your arms, you smile. He can be so childish at times — teasing you, insisting you hold him, easily shaken by a few late nights. And yet there was something so comforting in his behavior. He's always so happy to see you, making sure to clock in quality time hours — not that he didn't enjoy the daily drives, but it wasn't exactly a date. Not to mention his unwavering need to make sure you're safe. At least his rare stubbornness has good reason.

Reluctantly abandoning the comfort of your neck, he lifts his face to meet your eyes. His gaze bores into yours, engulfing you in warm pools of emerald.

A lazy grin takes over his features.

“I like that,” he murmurs.

Your eyebrows twitch in confusion.

“This,” he explains, bringing a hand to your head and mimicking the strokes you've weaved into his hair. “It feels nice.”

An airy chuckle escapes your lips and you make a point to stroke his hair more.

His face hovers over yours. His hands rest on either side of you as he leans into your affections. His eyes flutter closed as he sighs at your touch.

You look up at him mesmerized by his angelic features. It's true you've always thought he's handsome, but this closeness makes you appreciate every detail of his face even more. His long lashes, the faint freckles on his nose, the thick eyebrows that are softening with each feel of your fingers combing through his hair, the perfect plump lips that whisper your name.

It makes your heart pound against your ribs loudly, the sound echoing in your ears as your hands grow sweaty.

That's when you decide to pull him in for a kiss. His eyes flutter open for a split second of surprise before they close again, at peace and happy. Your hands lose themselves in his hair as his wrap around your waist, pulling you closer to the edge of the counter by the small of your back.

The contact is painfully slow, with measured pecks in between deeper kisses. He melts into you, lips softly grazing yours, breath fanning across your mouth as he nips at your bottom lip with his teeth to later soothe the area with his tongue. His lips slot warmly between yours, dragging out at a snail's pace before coming back.

The tip of his tongue pokes between your lips, shy but determined to be granted the access you so easily provide. A soft moan bubbles up your throat as his tongue caresses yours with vehemence. It's unusually hot, but the foreign feeling of his tongue in your mouth is greatly appreciated, marked by the way you desperately try to pull him even closer, in hopes that he can swallow you whole.

The pit of your stomach flutters and stirs with the most pleasant tingle when one of his hands travels to the back of your neck and he pushes his hips against yours. Despite the layers keeping you apart, it's easy to tell he's grown hard from the sweet exchange. He's rock solid under his pants, the delicate moans that bounce off your tongue and onto his making him bigger with every passing second.

He knows you can feel it, but you don't seem to mind, your head too dizzy with the collective sensations being fed to your body — his warm tongue, his bulge brushing your most sensitive spot over your jeans, his left hand holding you in place by the back of your neck while the other firmly squeezes your waist as he's consumed by the passionate kiss.

You cling onto him, thighs drawing closer to keep him flush against you. His hips roll against yours, brushing so deliciously against the spot that's growing wet beneath your clothing that it sends a tickle up your insides.

He sucks on your tongue, the act drawing more lustful mewls from the back of your throat.

You're feverish, your face burning when your shirt happens to rise, exposing your midriff to his calloused fingers which were so careful not to touch any new skin before the incident.

There's a string of saliva that connects your mouths when you finally break your fervent makeout. His lips are swollen and glossy with your saliva, as you're sure yours are with his.

“Eren,” you weakly whine in between breaths.

“Hm?” he hums, as he parts from your mouth to leave a trail of wet kisses down your neck.

You shudder when he swirls his tongue against your sweet spot before gently kissing it.

You whine his name again, though your voice has a stronger shape to it this time.

He turns to face you, pecking your lips just once before easing his grip on your body.

“I know,” he murmurs. “Slow, I remember.”

“Yeah,” you breathe.

His nose brushes against yours as he tilts his head to press a calmer, cooler kiss onto your lips.

“I want to, by the way,” you admit bashfully, avoiding his blown pupils and opting to look at a blank point on his shirt. “Just… not yet.”

When your gaze flickers to his, he's looking down at you warmly.

“I understand,” he murmurs.

Your eyes flit toward the window, reminding you of how late it's getting.

“I should go, it's already dark out.”

Eren nods, pulling back from the counter until you both notice the tent in his pants. You tear your gaze from the area, searching for something of interest elsewhere.

He blushes, ready to express an apology for his body's reaction to your wanton moans and feverish kisses, but you hop off the counter and trail off to the living room to search for your jacket before he can, leaving him to softly laugh at your meek behavior as he makes his way to the bathroom.

When he comes looking for you in the living room a couple of minutes later, you're seated on the couch, waiting patiently for him.

You smile upon his return, no trace of embarrassment left on your features.

“Do you really have to go?” he asks.

Your expression softens but you nod.

“We have work tomorrow. And I know how you get if you don't get your beauty sleep,” you tease.

He rolls his eyes, but wears a playful smile nonetheless.

“No. I mean,” he takes a deep breath. “You could stay the night… if you want to.”

His voice grows timid with every word as he gauges your reaction to his offer. He doesn't want to be pushy, by any means, but he hopes you'll accept.

He watches you chew on your bottom lip, unsure of what to say.

“Unless, of course, that goes against the whole taking-things-slow agreement,” he awkwardly laughs. “But I just… figured you should know… I wouldn’t object to you spending the night. No funny business. Just… to sleep.”

A breath of relief pushes past his lips when a small smile finally grows over your previously troubled features.

“Maybe not tonight,” you say. “But I’ll think about it.”

His lips curl inwards to hide his smile before he holds his hand out to you so you can head out the door together.

Eren swings your linked hands as you travel down the hall from the elevator. It's a habit he's developed over the past few days after seeing you cry for the first time.

The image lingered with bitterness in his head the entire night. It still pops up every now and then, reminding him he has to do everything in his capability to keep it from happening again.

As you walk to your door, hands comically swinging more aggressively each time with Eren's playful attitude, he marvels at your laughing face, feeling at ease with everything concerning you.

He finally eases up on his swing when you reach your door, but your fingers remain laced with his until you absolutely have to part ways.

“Sorry I was so tired today,” he says, holding your hands up to compare the difference in size. He presses his palm against yours, eyes shimmering at the sight before he grabs your hand and brings it to his lips, kissing your knuckles gently. “I'll make it up to you next time.”

“I don't mind just hanging out,” you say, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. “It's fun.”

He smiles as he watches you fish your keys out of your jacket pocket with your free hand. The click of the lock always comes before letting go, but it's fine because he still gets to see you tomorrow morning for the drive to your office.

You turn to him, leaving the keys dangling on the lock as you drape your arms around his neck.

“By the way,” you murmur, pressing yourself further into his chest when his arms wrap around your waist. “You can spend the night at my place, too, if you want.”

His features twitch and his eyes light up with interest at the offer.

“No funny business,” you add, before pressing a kiss on his cheek. “Just to sleep.”

He laughs.

“Of course. What kind of guy do you take me for?”

You smile, affectionately brushing your nose against his with your eyes closed.

“Just thought I'd let you know.”

“I’ll think about it,” he murmurs mockingly, echoing your response from earlier.

You look up at him quizzically.

“Do I sense some competition over whose apartment we stay at first?” you accuse.

“I’ll get on my knees if you want,” he quips without missing a beat, not bothering to be cool about the topic.

You giggle.

“Perfect. I love pathetic men.”

He stifles a laugh, eyes twinkling in amusement as a reflection of yours. Then he turns on a comically serious expression.

“Baby, I’m as pathetic as they come,” he firmly states, which makes you laugh even more.

“You're such a dork,” you giggle.

He hugs you tightly, playfully rocking your connected bodies in the middle of the hallway as he peppers your face with kisses, relishing in your amused squeals.

The giddiness in your expression remains even after you're both standing still and he's no longer attacking you with kisses.

“Thank you for making time for me,” you smile. “I mean, you already do so much with driving me to work and everything. If you’re ever not in the mood, you can—”

He cuts you off with a chaste kiss to your lips.

“It’s my pleasure.”

You bite back a grin and nod.

“Goodnight,” he murmurs before letting go and beginning his journey out with backwards steps.

“Bye, Eren,” you smile.

Before he can turn on his heel, you catch up to him, instantly making him drop his confused expression for a much softer one when you press your lips against his in one last kiss goodbye. When you pull back, he's got a goofy grin on his face as he waits for you to explain yourself.

You smile shyly.

“For the road.”

November 4, 2024

I found out where my angel lives. It's not too bad a place, but I'm sure she'll like the room I'm fixing for her better. I'm working on a way to get some of her favorite things over to my place. Hopefully she won't miss them too much before I can reunite her with them.

I'm so relieved. It was worth keeping an eye on her for the last few days. The only downside to come out of this is that I have to see that jerk's stupid face everywhere. He just can't leave her alone for a damn second.

It pisses me off to see him touch her like it's nothing. That should be ME kissing her and making her laugh. Not him. He shouldn't be allowed to touch her. Still, she looks so happy each time. But I can't be mad at her. I could never be mad at my angel. She'll realize soon enough that I'm the one meant for her. I just have to suck it up in the meantime. It's bad enough that I have to keep my distance for now but do I have to see her smiling at the wrong guy, too? I can't take it.

She's gotten prettier. It seems impossible but it's true. I could look at her for days on end — and I have the past week as proof. Her smile is brighter and she's practically glowing. It only makes the wait even harder but I still have so much to get done for her arrival. I can't wait to see the look on her face when I finally bring her home with me so we can be happy together.

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#eren yeager x reader #aot fanfiction #snk fanfiction #aot x reader #eren x reader #eren jaeger x reader #eren jaeger fanfiction #eren jaeger smut #eren jaeger x y/n #eren jaeger fluff #eren yeager smut #eren yeager fanfiction #eren yeager x you #eren yeager x y/n #snk smut #snk x reader

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cupidsanne · 13 hours

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Mike Faist Fluff Alphabet ✢ Headcanons

Mike Faist x Female! Insert Reader

SYNOPSIS! ✦ headcanons based on the ask of these prompts!!

WARNINGS! ✦ None, sfw.

NOTES! ✦ link to template for these are here! no proof reads, lmk if something’s wrong! <3

Mike Faist Masterlist . About Me + Rules .

A — Admiration . . . What Do They Absolutely Adore About You?

One of the things he adores about you is your leniency with everything. Your ability to forgive and be tolerant of certain things is really nice to him, since no one’s perfect and even Mike makes mistakes sometimes. Mike always assumed the worst whenever he messes up something small and thinks you’ll hold it against him, which is so far from the truth. He has to constantly remind himself that you’re not there to belittle him for everything, and it’s okay to tell you things.

B — Body . . . What Is Their Favorite Part Of Your Body?

His favorite part is your smile. You’re a silly person naturally, so a grin is always spread onto your face. He makes you laugh a lot, and you do the same for him. He’s definitely attracted to your happiness. Don’t even be insecure if you’re teeth may be crooked, if your lips look a certain way, ect. he does not care!! Smile all the time!

C — Cuddling . . . How Do They Like To Cuddle?

He prefers to cuddle with you sat up and seated, cause whenever you two do cuddle laying down, he falls asleep. He can’t help it! You’re comforting to be around.

D — Dates . . . What Does Their Ideal Date With You Look Like?

He’s content with anything as long as it’s private. On dates, Mike likes to give his sole attention to you and doesn’t want outside distractions or interruptions. He’s also not too particular with dates, but he does prefer calm ones. Although he doesn’t mind those crazier dates like rock climbing, clubbing, ski-ing ect. he likes ones where he doesn’t have to do much as well. Mike loves having fun, but he’s a homebody too. His ideal dates are picnics at the park, beach, or having a quiet dinner in a cozy restaurant. If your dates mostly consisted of eating inside either (or your shared) homes, he’d be fine with that too.

E — Emotions . . . How Do They Express Emotion Around You?

He’s a honest partner, but he’s not always comfortable with being verbally vulnerable. He doesn’t want to burden you with his issues or thoughts initially, so a lot of the times of when he’s upset, you have to look for any physical cues on him. Similar reasoning from letter A.

F — Family . . . Do They Want One? If They Do, When?

He does, but he isn’t sure when is the right time. With his career and constantly being on the move, he doesn’t know how he’ll want to balance work life and family life. He doesn’t work a office job where he can go in during the day and come back in the evening, he’s an actor! Actors schedules constantly shift and he may be expected to travel. You knew what you were signing up for when you got together with him, so he really wants to leave the decision of a family to you.

He has a great relationship with kids. Because of his energy and kind smile, kids naturally are drawn to him and want to play/hang out with him. He’s polite and super fun, and he’s also good at a lot of things. He’d be a great father, but he underestimates himself.

G — Gifts . . . How Do They Feel About Gift Giving? What Are Their Habits When It Comes To This?

He doesn’t mind giving gifts but it’s not his main love language. He’s the type of person where he likes to save gifts for special occasions so they can feel extra special. Occasionally, he might gift you something small and silly to make you laugh but the meaningful gifts are for certain occasions. He also entirely chooses your gifts for your benefit and wants, not his.

H — Holding Hands . . . When/How Do They Like To Hold Hands?

Mike is not a huge fan of PDA, but he’s not completely against it either. This doesn’t mean he’s not physically affectionate with you at all, cause that’s false!! He’s just not the type of guy to make out with you in public or grab your butt in front of friends… (I find those things corny.) Subtle affection like hand holding is great with him! He doesn’t mind holding your hand as you guys walk, sit down, or talk. He’s a private person, but he’s not gonna keep your relationship a secret.

He likes to interlock fingers! It’s comforting to him and if your walking through somewhere crowded, you won’t feel like you’re slipping away. He doesn’t like those hand holds where it’s him holding your hand and you’re not, or you’re holding is hand and he’s not, he likes to keep it mutual. One parter just holding onto the other feels territorial.

I — Injury . . . How Would They Act If You Got Hurt?

If you slip on the floor and fall, he’s gonna rush over and check on you with a smile cracked on his lips. He’s not doing it to make you embarrassed, he just finds it cute, in a way! If it’s funny, he’ll try to hold it in and make sure you’re recomposed. He doesn’t like to see you hurt at all.

Now, he’s not a monster! If you seriously get injured, he’s gonna be devastated! He’s a responsible person and when put in a panicked situation, he knows how to calm you and/or the area down. Not saying he won’t be stressed or alarmed, but he’s gonna take you to the hospital or doctor to make sure you’re alright.

J — Jokes . . . Do They Like To Joke Around With Or Prank You? How?

He definitely does, no question about it. You two joke around and share many laughs with each other. He doesn’t necessarily prank you crazily, but he does in a small way.

If you’re new here, Mike is a actor. A incredible one, and with being a actor it’s easy for him to tell little lies. Sometimes when he says things, you’re prone to believe it based off his face and tone. For example, he’d do those pranks where it’s “My gosh, [insert a celebrity you like] has just died!” and you’d definitely become hysterical trying to find out if it’s true, the whole time he’s sitting there smiling internally as you’re freaking out. He doesn’t keep it up forever though and always comes clean, you’d complain but you’re not actually hurt. If anything, you reciprocate and pull mini pranks like that on him all the time. Yet, he’s skeptic whenever you try since you’re not as good at pranking him then he is with you.

K — Kisses . . . How Do The Like To Kiss You?

Now, a controversial opinion… He just loves those short kisses! Those kisses where he leans down to kiss you on the lips deeply but fast are his favorite. He likes to see your facial expression afterwards, nine times out of ten you’re grinning from ear to ear. He doesn’t mean pecks where it’s so quick the other partner can’t catch it, but the short regular ones. Despite this, that doesn’t mean he doesn’t love those long kisses either.

L — Love . . . How Do They Show They Love You?

Quality time is his favorite way! It sucks because sometimes he has to be away from you for periods of time because of his job, but it’s his favorite way of showing how he loves you. Mike can be anti-social sometimes and does cherish his away time, but quality time together is his love language cause it means he’s sharing his space and extra time for you. When you two are together, it doesn’t feel like a chore or obligation to be around each other. He genuinely enjoys your company, he wouldn’t be with you if he didn’t.

M — Memory . . . Favorite Memory Together?

Meeting your family was one of his favorite memories. You come from a big family and they were all so excited to meet him. Some of them couldn’t believe he was this star who could sing and dance as he was so bashful around everyone! He was super polite and warm to everyone. Your parents are obsessed with him and whenever you try to come around, the first thing they ask is “Where’s Mike? How’s Mike doing?”

When he was first invited to a family get together, he was set on making a good impression, and he sure did! He met and greeted everyone, he played with the kids for a little bit, he help set the table when your mother asked, he even sat down with your dad, uncles, and some other guy relatives and they had a drink and chatted. He came to have a genuine good time with them all, and was glad to hear that they like him so much, cause he was planning on being with you for the long run.

N — Nightmare . . . What Is Their Worst Fear?

Disappointing or not living up to certain expectations. Mike can be very tough on himself and underestimates his abilities. If you listen to any peer, actor, or even directors he has worked with, they all have such uplifting things to say about him. How Mike always goes above and beyond in whatever he does. He doesn’t just do this to please others, but he does it to please himself.

Before his career, it wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows for him, so working hard is always the mindset that he lives in. It’s a sense of security for him.

O — Oddity . . . What Is One Quirk They Have?

Most of the time, you can read what he’s thinking or feeling through his eyes. It’s not odd, it’s pretty regular but it’s much more intriguing from him. Mike has heterochromia which means his eyes are two different colors! It’s not something you see often but it’s not uncommon. Not only are they different but he’s naturally handsome as well and as luscious eyelashes to go with his eyes. You’ve learned that whenever he’s listening to something, he might not do the talking but his eyes will.

For example, if you say something totally unexpected, his eyes might widened and he’s gonna blink repeatedly. If you say something funny, he’s gonna chuckle and his eyes will squint. He doesn’t always realize you look in his eyes to read him.

P — Pet Names . . . What Do They Like To Call You?

He likes to keep it simple, he doesn’t do those extra cheesy pet names like “sweetie pie” and “boo boo bear” he can’t stand those!! A good go-to nickname for you is a short “Babe”. If you’re not really into pet names but you do have a nickname that’s known from close friends or loved ones, he can call you that too!

Q — Quality Time . . . How Do They Like To Spend Time With You?

He likes to spend it privately and not too much outside distractions. He wants all his focus on you to let you know that he’s listening and paying attention to you.

R — Rhythm . . . What Song Reminds You Of Them?

“There! I’ve Said it Again” sung by Bobby Vinton!!

I really don’t have any reasoning for it, but this is my selection! Because Mike was into the older movies with Gene Kelly and more, I’d think he’d appreciate that older genre of music too. This is a slow yet lovely song.

S — Secrets . . . How Open Are They With You?

Like stated before, he’s honest with you but it may take some coaxing for him to speak up. He’s good at acting and ignoring something, but after so long he can’t always keep it up, so you’re always bound to find out. As time goes on, he gets better at being more open.

T — Time . . . How Long Does It Take You To Get Together?

Surprisingly, he’s persistent. As much as he’s an over-thinker, he’s not gonna make any decisions he’s gonna regret if he knows he has a chance.

I definitely see you two starting off as friends and slowly falling for each other. It all really depends on the circumstances of how you two crossed paths for how long it takes for you to get together.

U — Upset . . . How Do They Act When You’re Upset?

His first priority is to comfort or calm you down. When upset, you’re not gonna always think rationally and he doesn’t want you to wear yourself out or do anything you’d regret. If there’s a issue, he won’t ultimately take over and help you, but he will assure and offer solutions if you need it. Sometimes, that’s all a person really wants when they’re upset and he realizes that over time.

V — Vaunt . . . What Are They Proud Of? Do They Like To Show You Off?

Despite his humble demeanor, he’s very proud and grateful for how far he’s come into his career. There was a point in his life where he felt like he wasn’t going to get as far as he wanted, yet he’s proven himself wrong.

He doesn’t mind showing you off at all! He loves you and everything you do. The reason he doesn’t have you out there to the public like crazy isn’t because he’s ashamed to be with you, but it’s because he values your privacy and his. Despite this, the instances where you two are put out in the spotlight, he’s making it known that you’re his and he’s yours!

W — Warrior . . . How Do They Feel About You Fighting? Would They Fight For You? Beside You? Ect.

Verbal or Physical, he doesn’t want you fighting at all! Mike likes to keep the peace in situations and feels that fighting isn’t the way to go. Although, he doesn’t want you to get walked over on and allow yourself to be backed into a corner. If we’re speaking about verbal fighting, he wholeheartedly supports you defending yourself and knows you’re an adult and you should be able to handle yourself. He won’t say anything but he will be alongside you to comfort you. Now, if it calls for it, he will defend you with no hesitation. If someone tries to insult/put you down while you’re not there to defend yourself, you bet he’s going to shut that down. So don’t even worry!

X — X-Ray . . . How Well Are They Able To Read You?

In the beginning of your relationship, it was so hard for him. At times he’d read too much and think the worst instead of coming up and communicating with you. Eventually, he’d get the hang of it all and now he can read you like an open book. He’s memorized your quirks and behaviors whenever you’re happy, sad, angry ect. and so have you for him.

Y — Yes . . . How Would They Propose To You?

Now, what some people may not know is that Mike has a pilot’s license! He wanted to make the proposal memorable for you and him, and he was wondering if he should do something totally different then you’d expect! With some coaxing from friends and his half brothers, they encouraged him to propose to you while flying! With some convincing, he pushed for you to join him on flying out. He assured you’d be safe and staged that his half brother couldn’t be his co-pilot and needed to go out because “he didn’t want his skills to get rusty.” You believed him obviously and followed through and as you two drove out in the air, he popped the question on you privately, handing you a ring box as he drove. You cried tears of joy and accepted his proposal.

( ^ should I turn this into a imagine or blurb? 🫣)

Z — Zen . . . What Makes Them Feel Calm?

Knowing that you’re understanding and listening to him always. There’s a different between hearing and listening to someone. Sometimes, he feels invalidated on his wants and expressions therefore he doesn’t always outright admits to when he has a problem with something. You know he doesn’t like to ask for assistance or help, and will do it himself before anything. That’s why, whenever you feel or get a hunch that there’s something off, you immediately ask him if he’s alright or if there’s anything he’d want you to do. He appreciates it so much, and even if he declines your help and controls your worries, it means so much that you’re wondering how he’s feeling. To you, this is the bare minimum but to him, it means a lot.

#mike faist fanfiction #mike faist x female reader #mike faist x reader #mike faist imagine #mike faist x you #mike faist headcanons #mike faist #mike faist x wife reader #art donaldson x reader #we need mike faist now #mike faist x reader fluff

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boinin · 2 days

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Blue Lock in Japan fandom diary

I was in Japan for my holidays, which was incredible—it's somewhere I dreamed of visiting for a long time, and it lived up to every expectation.

I'll talk a little bit about my experience from a Blue Lock fan perspective, as it's something that interested me prior to going. April 2024 was a good time to visit, thanks to the Episode Nagi film coming out. There was a lot of pop-up cafés/collabs open, and no shortage of merchandise.

In Harajuku's Takeshita Street, there were a series of banners/pendants for the new film, featuring all the main characters. There were also digital ads for Episode Nagi in a few places—I recall the trailer playing at Shibuya Crossing (which is exactly as surreal and overwhelming a place as I'd imagined).

Rambling and pics under the cut, including gacha machines, stores, general anecdotes and my merch haul.

In case anyone's uncomfortable seeing IRL pics, be warned there's couple shots of my hand below. No face reveals 😛

Gacha

So, gacha machines are EVERYWHERE in Tokyo and other cities, often randomly in the street, but also in dedicated stores. The biggest selection tended to be in arcades or shopping centres. Akihabara had a few big ones (Gigo comes to mind), but I found multiple. And Blue Lock is really well represented! There's loads of stuff to waste money on, from little acrylic keychains to small figures to... tiny cushions with characters' faces on them 👀

One minor annoyance is that the gacha merch for a fandom doesn't tend to be grouped in one place, so you spend a lot of time wandering around stacks of machines squinting at their content. Only one store I visited in Osaka had all the Blue Lock stuff grouped together.

In general, most of the machines are priced between ¥300 and ¥500 a spin (€1.80 to €3.00 at time of writing), so it's reasonably affordable unless you're a completionist set on collecting ALLL the merch.

Much of what's in the gacha machines is seasonal, so it's worth snapping up anything that you like while it's there. That said, I found a few stores selling same season or older gacha merch at a markup. The most expensive ones were older merch/limited edition, which can cost many multiples of what you'd pay originally. Other places (like Ani Ani) sell current gacha merch at a small markup. I was able to buy a Rin to finish a seasonal collection for only ¥100 more than I'd pay at a machine, which saved me whatever multiple of ¥300 I'd have paid on spins to get him in addition to the four others.

Throughout the trip I saw the same gacha content over and over again in various places. Specifically for Blue Lock, you don't generally have to worry about throwing money at the first set of machines you find or risk missing out. That said, one regret of mine was passing on some really cute gacha figs of the Bllk boys in casual clothes on a street on Akihabara, which I never saw anywhere else.

There's also heaps of claw machines in similar locations, which mostly had figures of Nagi and Reo in their Hakuho uniform.

Pop-up stores/collabs and merch stores

Blue Lock is well represented in cafés/pop ups. This is likely due to the EpiNagi film releasing this month, but with some research beforehand, you'll likely find a venue should you wish to get some Bllk themed food/venue exclusive goodies. Be warned—many of these will require a reservation, and they book out quickly. That's the case for most of the fandom cafés. If it's a must-do for your trip, research a venue before you go and try booking a slot if you can.

I only went to one myself, which was a place in Harajuku that did Blue Lock themed drinks. I chose Nagi's, which looked mysteriously black on the menu. It turned out to be tea with lemon flavoured jelly—tasty and canon inspired! I also got a free card of Bachira, which the store assistant handed to me at random. This was overpriced at ¥800 (€4.77) compared to what you'd pay normally in Japan for a drink, but that's the branding mark-up. In comparison, a bottle of soda, tea or coffee from a vending machine costs on average around ¥150 (€0.90).

Regarding stores, there was a Blue Lock pop-up in Ikebukuro in an electronics store which had SO many acrylic stands and plushes. A lot of this was bishounen/pretty boy appreciation material for each of the characters. Think stands of the boys smiling handsomely at the camera in various outfits.

At time of writing, merch tends to feature just the characters from season 1 of the anime, specifically the Egoist Four, Nagi, Reo, Rin and Sae. I saw little for the other characters, and next to nothing for manga-only charas. My favourite manga character find was a sticker of Hiori, which has subsequently gone missing amidst the chaos of unpacking 🥲 If it turns up, I'll add a picture. Found it!

In terms of spots for Blue Lock merch, Ikebukuro and Akihabara were the best and most concentrated. Akihabara gives tourist trap vibes, but if you're willing to navigate every nook and cranny plus the crowds on the hunt for blorbos, you'll almost certainly find merch to your taste.

Ani Ani in Akihabara was pretty good for BLLK, and excellent in general for its selection of fandom merch. Smaller shops have more niche content, which is great if you favour side characters.

Ikebukuro has a more chill vibe than Akihabara (less tourists) but still a decent selection of fandom merch. Hands down the best spot for Blue Lock on my trip was the Animate store there (pictured above), which had five or six shelves just for our favourite football prisoners. Lots of plushes as you can see, but also things like clear files, acrylic stands, keychains, stickers, pins and more. Again, big focus on pretty boy appreciation, but there were also cutesy things like chibi figures/stickers. There's also heaps there for other animanga fandoms.

Animate Ikebukuro had the Blue Lock fragrances! I only sniffed a couple of these—both Isagi and Kunigami's were reminiscent of blue shower gel, but with woody notes in Kunigami's case. Chigiri's fragrance was more floral and fruity. They cost somewhere between ¥7000 to ¥8000 I think (around €45ish).

In addition, Harajuko has a lot of anime stuff along Takeshita Street, but the selection can be hit or miss. I found two shops there that were reselling Blue Lock goods (things like gacha figs and limited edition merch). These could be pricey, but these were the best for cute/older Chigiri and Kunigami merch IMO.

Snacks

Again, availability may relate to the timing of anime releases etc, but I tried a bunch of BLLK snacks in Japan. The most common type were these chocolate wafers, which you could get cheaply in convenience stores for loads of different shounen fandoms (I recall seeing One Piece, JoJo and MHA). The wafers themselves were mid, but the packaging was cute and you get a free sticker or card in each. I managed to get a Kunigami card on my first try 🥹

"Slowbar" is like a protein or granola bar. Again nothing to write home about taste-wise, but I saw a few with Bllk packaging. Go figure, I bought one that had Kunigiri. No freebies, but it was a more substantial snack than the wafers.

My merch haul

Here's what came home with me! It's modest as far as fandom hauls go, particularly next to all the stuff I bought in the Pokémon centres. I didn't go as nuts as I thought I would, but the gacha machines definitely put a dent in my bank account. They're fun, but should be treated with caution by anyone who likes owning complete sets of things.

Close up of gacha figs, minus Rin + the bonus Chigiri I picked up on.

I ended up spending around ¥3000 (about €18) to get the full set of sleeping figs (including duplicates). Spent around the same to get the sleeping bag figs, then at least half that again on Chigiri's when I spotted him at a resale store (he's from a previous release).

As a result of my gacha spree, I have a bunch of duplicates 🥲 It would be a shame to bin 'em, so might do an interest check to see if anyone's interested in taking them off my hands.

These are the cards/Zantetsu sticker I got from the combini wafers, the Bachira card from the juice café, plus a random cushion of Rin from a gacha machine. It's way too small to be practical, but still cute.

I bought the two Kunigiri chibi plushes at a resale store for ¥3000 altogether. Chigiri was twice the price of Kunigami, lmao.

Kitty!giri came with a little sleepy eyemask. As soon as I saw him, I had to have him. Bought him at Ani Ani in Akihabara for ¥2500 I think? (€15 approx). They had kitty Isagis and Bachiras too.

Now for a story: there's a gacha series out now which has gold rings featuring the names of the main BLLK cast + Aryu. I swore not to buy any of these, cos it's a little self-shippy; no shame in that, but it's not really my bag. I also dislike gold jewellery.

Relatedly, partner and I just decided to get married, and half-talked about looking for a engagement ring in Japan before we travelled.

So. A few weeks later, while wandering around Harajuku, partner walks back to me after disappearing for two minutes. They hold out a gacha capsule with a shit eating grin—"Hey, got ya something!"

I shit you not: not only was it one of the stupid rings, but out of eight choices, they managed to pull Kunigami's 😭 I laughed/despaired for about five minutes. Partner was amused.

I don't have small hands (¥100 for scale); Ringsuke loosely fits my baby finger but gets stuck on my ring finger if I shove it on past the bottom knuckle. Based off my own measurements, the BLLK rings are probably around 50-53 mm in size (Japan size 12 maybe). It's surprisingly good quality for a ¥400 capsule machine prize.

So yeah: that's how this Kunigiri stan ended up with an ill-fitting engagement ring with her favourite blorbo's name on it 🙃 ...I'll get a proper one eventually, and Kitty!giri will inherit Ringsuke. Y'all are about the only people I'm ever admitting this story to.

Finally, my favourite purchase is these two acrylic stands of Chigiri and Kunigami, with pop ups of their stats. I'm not big on acrylic stands generally, but this was one of my favourite official art releases and I couldn't pass it up. They were ¥1800 (€11) apiece in a Harajuku resale store—probably more expensive than their original sale price, but I'm not complaining.

That's about it, I think! I've tried to recall as much detail as I can about places/prices here, but happy to provide more info if anyone's curious about anything—just ask!

#blue lock #bllk #personal #japan #kunigiri #long post #mine

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alibasnur · 2 days

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Annie (Chapter 1)

Pairing: Anne Sallow x M!MC Rating: PG Content Warning: Mention of parents’ death, mention of attempted homicide Word Count: 2.9K Summary: It was the end of spring before the 5th year of Hogwarts started. Anne Sallow became close to a boy who delivered her potions every week. Jonah Wilkinson was an American muggle-born, adopted by a family who lived a few villages away. She took comfort in his presence, but things changed after the summer began and Sebastian came home. Author's Note: This is my first published HL fic. I love Anne and hate Solomon lol. English is my third language. Details about my MC Jonah here https://www.tumblr.com/alibasnur/747796751465988096/jonah-wilkinson-hl-mc?source=share

The pain was excruciating. No matter how often they had appeared, Anne could never get used to it. She dropped to the floor, and the uncooked vegetables for her supper were scattered.

She sat there for a minute, holding the side of her abdomen for relief. She was left alone in the house, and the pain turned her cold with sweat, even with the warmth coming from the fireplace.

She didn't notice a knock coming from her door at that moment. But that person behind the door surely heard her cry and excused himself into the house.

"Miss Sallow..?” A concerned voice approached, it was boyish, youthful sounding.

“My goodness! What happened?" She heard his footsteps rushing to her side with a hint of panic in his voice, and then she could see his face when she looked up.

She almost mistook him for Ominis Gaunt, but with freckles on his face that softened his features, deep brown eyes with a seemingly functioning sight, and red-brown hair that stuck out of his hat.

She took the hand that he offered, as she had no luxury to be wary about this seemingly kind stranger.

His arms lifted her with ease, which was a bit of a surprise since he didn't look the age to have that strength. She limped to her usual seat in her cottage house.

Swiftly, the boy picked up the vegetables she dropped on the floor. Anne almost felt bad for letting him do so, and for being in a poor state at their first meeting.

The pain ceased and it dawned on her who he might be. She was expecting a potion delivery from Mrs. Wilkinson, the healer from another village.

"Thank you." Anne was still seated when he put the basket of vegetables on the table.

"Don't worry, miss Sallow." The boy smiled. He grabbed the satchel he left on the floor, and took out a few bottles of potions for her.

"Just Anne, please.”

"Alright, Anne.” He was a bit hesitant to call a customer so familiarly at first. But it sounded more natural for them, given their similarity.

“Are you the Wilkinson boy?”

“Yes, I’m Jonah, Jonah Wilkinson." Jonah smiled.

"I hope it wasn't too much trouble finding our address.."

"No, it wasn't. And the journey was nicer than I had expected. From what I heard, I thought I might have to take another route. But it turned out it was alright.”

"I'm glad.. the loyalists have been a concern for people who visit the hamlet."

Anne felt relieved to know that she didn't unintentionally put Jonah in danger.

“Do sit down, I have heard about you. I heard that you came from America, I'd like to hear more about it." As soon as she felt at ease, her usual talkativeness came back.

“It’s true, my parents are muggles, I couldn't stay with them so the Wilkinsons took me in.”

He took a seat facing her and felt comfortable enough to tell his journey that he felt welcomed.

“It must be hard getting used to the Wizarding World.”

“It was, at first. But I can manage.”

The Wizarding World. If Mister Wilkinson had only met him on the street and told him about its existence, Jonah would think that he was unwell.

They met in an Asylum, when Jonah overheard the staff preparing for his euthanization, by the decision of Dr. Barebone, saying that children of magical ancestry like him shouldn't live long enough to pass their blood.

“Have you heard the name Barebone?”

“They are descended from Scourers, aren’t they? I’ve heard from Professor Binns in my History of Magic class.”

It was no wonder words had spread about them in Britain. They were considered a big problem to the American wizards.

“Yes. I met one of them, they are the reason why I can’t stay with the muggles.”

“They hated wizards, didn't they? Did.. did they do bad things to you?”

“Well, unfortunately. They said it was part of the treatment. I went to their Asylum, you see.. a mental hospital. I was seeing magical creatures and my family thought I was mentally ill.”

They put him through several treatments, not sure if they were even necessary. One day, they decided it was time to put him to sleep forever and send words back to his family that he died due to an accident.

Mister Wilkinson came to his rescue before it was too late, he went through an ordeal to be able to adopt him. He had been grateful for his current life, although his experience with the Barebones still gave him nightmares sometimes.

“I can’t imagine what you went through. And I’m sorry that you have to separate from your family, you must have missed them..”

Jonah didn’t deny her assumption, he did miss his family. Fortunately, Mister Wilkinson occasionally looked into their life when he visited America, just to let Jonah know that they were safe.

Mister Wilkison said that he would put himself and the rest of the wizarding world in danger had he stayed. The Ministry obliviated them for the sake of secrecy, and now they had no recollection of their son. Jonah had to accept that bitter reality.

“I do miss them sometimes. But if they are doing well, then I’m happy enough.”

“I’m glad that they are doing fine. I miss mine too sometimes, I lost my parents before I came to Hogwarts.”

Anne stared down, the look in her eyes was of nostalgia rather than grief. But to Jonah, losing one’s parents to death sounded more painful than his own experience. Now it explained why she lived with her uncle.

“Oh, I’m sorry..”

“It happened many years ago, I have come to accept it. But I still remember that they were both professors. If they were alive, I would be one of their students.”

He wished he could relate to talks about being in a Wizarding school. Years had gone by after his 11th birthday and his letter never came to their door.

Jonah's magical sign was too weak, and perhaps that was the reason. He felt bad about himself, as he had no potential to cast a single spell. He might as well go back to live among the muggles.

The Wilkinsons insisted that he stayed, that Jonah was as good as their own. It did put him at ease, and although their sentiments were true, they never admitted the fact that they needed him after all. He had been helpful with the farm, Mrs. Wilkinson’s potion-making, and taking care of Mr. Wilkinson’s aging mother.

Anne had been listening with interest. The skin around her eyes was reddened with months of illness and sleep deprivation, but even then Jonah could see the sense of adventure that she gave off.

She enjoyed living in the Highlands, but it could feel narrow sometimes. If she were to make it, she could see herself sailing across the ocean and to another continent, observing how the wizarding world ran in the new world.

But her uncle seemed to be convinced that almost nothing could be done about her curse, and it killed the remaining hope inside her.

Mrs. Wilkinson's potion was the last resort, and if nothing worked, they would stop trying.

Jonah realized that he had forgotten something when he looked at the uncooked vegetables on the table.

"Were you going to cook something?" His question indicated a bit of worry. He couldn’t help it when he knew an ill patient was still having to busy their hands with a tiresome task.

"Yes. I have spent my days at home since I got sick. Uncle Solomon isn't home yet and my brother is at school. Don't worry, that pain appears at random times. I can still do things normally."

It didn't soothe Jonah to know that her pain could appear any moment, and it could be more disastrous than it was when he just come.

"I can help you." Jonah offered. Perhaps he could stay for a while, at least until her uncle comes back or a meal is prepared for her to eat.

"Oh, no, no! I've troubled you enough! Besides, Uncle Solomon will be back soon, and it's getting dark..." Anne declined, although no one could tell which one would arrive first; her pain, her hunger, or her uncle.

Jonah was reminded that he was supposed to be back before supper. His family at home could start without him, and they would be fine. But he couldn't leave Anne alone, having to lift pots while holding a sharp pain and no one could guarantee her uncle would be there at that moment.

"Just a bit, miss Annie. Just until your uncle comes home." Jonah bargained.

He did not mean it to be rude or weird when that ‘Annie’ slipped out of his tongue. He only meant it to make her feel that he was a friend she could ask for help, that he was comfortable enough to stay, and that it wouldn't be an inconvenience.

Anne didn't seem to mind with that little name, Jonah could see it when she chuckled her resignation.

"Alright, then. Thank you, Jonah. Truly."

"A delivery for Miss Annie?"

Anne hadn't told him that the last time someone called her by that name was when her mother was still alive. But that name sounded natural coming from Jonah's lips, and she didn't find any offense from it, not even just one bit.

She certainly didn't mind being Annie to someone as kind and jovial as Jonah. He brought a new light into her life, and Anne often found herself looking forward to his visit.

At a certain time every Tuesday and Friday, her face would light up when she heard a knock and a playful voice pleasantly disturbing her, sending her loneliness at bay.

Sometimes her pain happened to come in his presence. Jonah could only hold her hand and surrender to the helplessness of that moment. Her pain became his, and the joyfulness in his face dimmed as he took in her cry to heart.

He wished he could do more, but had he asked, Anne would say that he did. By being with her, by making sure she wasn't alone, her pain became much more bearable.

Mrs. Wilkinson came to know how Jonah became fond of spending time with her at the Sallow's. She put some buns in his basket for his next delivery. They sat together in the front yard of her cottage house, and she would tell him stories about her day at Hogwarts.

He envied those who had known her before her illness, as they had seen her at the brightest days more than Jonah had.

Her laughter had a pleasant ring in his ear, her playful smiles and cheeky grins, and he would do anything to keep it that way, or much better as if she wasn’t ill.

"School holiday is coming." Her eyes observed the hamlet. "My brother will be home next week. She smiled, but Jonah could see a certain anticipation, as if something could happen and that she could sense it approaching.

"My situation made it tough for him too. He would argue with Uncle Solomon. He insisted on finding my cure, Uncle Solomon always tried to prevent him." He could see how she turned somber as if recalling a bad memory.

"Why would your uncle prevent him?" Jonah wondered.

"He's worried that Sebastian would make things worse..” Anne sighed.

"Well,” Jonah shrugged. "Maybe there is a cure out there." Jonah had never met Sebastian, yet he already agreed with him.

Anne broke her gloom with a chuckle.

"You are starting to sound like Sebastian!”

They both went silent for a while, Jonah's mind had been occupied with many possibilities.

She had been taking potions from Mrs. Wilkinson, but it didn’t seem to make any difference. The only difference was that she gained a new friend in Jonah, and they both enjoyed one another's company.

"It's getting dark," Anne mentioned. "Your mother would be worried." He suddenly remembered about the talk of the town, that the loyalists were building a new camp around his usual route.

"I should be going, then." Jonah stood up, grabbing his cloak and satchel.

"Do be careful, alright?" Anne looked up to him, still seated in her usual spot.

"I'll be back next week.” Jonah walked to the gate. "Take care, Annie.”

She waved as she watched him leave. They departed with a smile.

It wasn’t a goodbye after all. Because next week, they would laugh together again, Jonah would take her down a stroll, and they would enjoy Mrs. Wilkinson's pie while playing wizard's chess together.

The village got livelier again when the schoolchildren came home for the holiday, and Jonah expected the same atmosphere when he arrived at Feldcroft.

The cart stopped not so far from the wall, and Jonah began to see the boys and girls he had never seen before. Some of them helped on the farm, some of them jumped ropes and the others played on the Hopscotch waiting for their turn.

"Our sunflowers are starting to bloom, why don't you pick some? It’s a healing flower, i’m sure your Annie would appreciate them."

His mother's advice never crossed his mind before, he did remember how she smiled when wildflowers were blooming in her little garden.

And now Jonah stood in front of the door, with a bouquet of sunflowers in his right hand and his left one holding a bag of bottled potions.

He was going to knock on the door but hesitated the moment he heard shouts between Solomon and a boy. Anne mentioned her brother being home for the summer, it was easy to assume that he was the shouting boy that Jonah heard from inside the door.

Their argument heated and Jonah started to worry about Anne being in that situation. For the first time, Jonah didn't feel welcomed in this house. He almost got hit in the face when the Sallow boy stormed out of the house in a rage, paying no heed to Jonah's presence.

Jonah stood aside from the door when he heard Solomon's footsteps approaching with an aggressive quickness.

“That's right, out! Out with you! Before you ruin things like your father did!" Solomon berated.

Solomon still stood there to watch Sebastian walk further away from his sight, his eyes still fuming, he grunted with annoyance as he turned towards Jonah,

"I.." Jonah felt uncertain whether it was right to speak now. "Good afternoon, Mr. Sallow. I'm here to deliver this week's potion.” He continued, business was business after all, but he wouldn’t deny his wish to see Anne.

"Take the potions back with you! We’re no longer ordering Mrs. Wilkinson's potions!" He demanded.

"Alright, sir. But, may I ask why?"

"They are not working! You should know that already, considering how much time you spent with my niece!" Jonah could hear an accusation in his tone.

Solomon's statement brought an embarrassment to Jonah, he felt as if all the time he spent with her word was for the sake of it alone, rather than being helpful.

He cherished the moments he spent with her, and Anne enjoyed them too. However, Solomon saw it as wasteful, an inconvenience, and at times, inappropriate.

Jonah was a boy after all, and the fact that he was a Squib and unschooled at his current age made Solomon look down on him even more.

"Is there anything else I can help you with?" Solomon looked down at the sunflowers in Jonah's hand as if they were a frivolous thing that would make a mess in his house. Solomon wanted this to be done with, and for Jonah to go already.

"Yes, sir, I.." He held the flower hanging in his left hand, his stare full of hope. "Can I see Annie? Is she alright?"

Please, Jonah didn’t say it out loud but he meant it with pleading eyes, let me see my Annie, even just for a while.

"She is not in the position to receive a guest! I expect you to look into the situation! I appreciate your intention, but she wouldn't need those flowers!" Solomon shot him a scornful look that sent Jonah a few steps back in intimidation.

"Now, good day to you!" Solomon bid him farewell. For a glance, Jonah saw Anne's hopeful look from the door. She could only watch when her uncle treated Jonah so unpleasantly. It made her heart sink to see her uncle decide on her behalf.

Her pain came just a moment before Jonah's arrival and it led to today's argument between Solomon and Sebastian. As much as she wanted to defend Jonah, she couldn't bring herself on her feet without the pain sending her back down to her seat.

“Wait, sir!"

Solomon slammed the door shut in front of Jonah. It sent Anne a startle, she could feel her sight blur with tears from the shock.

Jonah stared at the sunflowers in his hand, his bag was still full of bottles, but he walked back feeling empty.

His journey home left an unpleasant aftertaste, and Jonah wasn't sure that he would find the guts to visit again.

He sat cross-legged on the cart, plucking the sunflower petals and letting them fall on the road. He would see Annie again. He would not. He would see Annie again...

He would not.

He held the memories of Feldcroft with his Annie in it, dear to his heart. But perhaps Solomon was right, it wouldn't help her.

#hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy fandom #wizarding world #hogwarts legacy mc #anne sallow #sebastian sallow #solomon sallow #ominis gaunt #hogwarts legacy fic #canon x oc #hl mc #fanfiction

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dailyserirei · 1 year

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Part 2.1 // Part 2.2

#serirei #reigen arataka #serizawa katsuya #mob psycho 100 #mp100 #decided to title it as uhhhhhhh #love day #so you can look up similar content like this #[ ok i have announcement to make. shadow the heaghog is a bitcha ss motherfucke #HELP MEEEE I THINK IM GOING INSANE MAKING THIS im sorry that you had to read this all and yelling at me im sorry im sorry #i did this in a whole day like i almost dont have any idea till idk???? this shit?????? whats going o #also yea thats the reason putting read more bcus its too damn long im sorry again and i will do it again]

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muninnhuginn · 4 months

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made for a forum life. living in a discord era.

#this is about how whenever I type up a long post on discord the first thing that gets commented on is the length of the post #rather than the actual content. whilst back when forums were a bigger thing it was almost standard to write up paragraphs back and forth #and yeah it's not entirely gone now but most of the people I want to interact with in terms of specific subjects aren't on forums anymore #it's a shame and it's not something I can singlehandedly change but I do miss when typing up paragraphs was considered more normal ig #like. please. look at what I'm actually saying rather than blanking it because it's too long for you idk...#(ig it's just part of a wider disconnect towards a lot of online culture where I do have some people who get me for sure. but other times #it feels like me and the others in a conversation are just operating on a different wavelength. in theory it's similar to irl #but ig because it's in fandoms and stuff I kinda expect it to be easier to connect so I end up kinda stunned when that doesn't pan out)

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rivilu · 2 years

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See, the issue with me is that every single time I replay Origins I fall in love with everything about it more and more. Which consequently also makes me hate Inquisition more and more vitriolically each time.

#dragon age #dragon age origins #dragon age inquisition critical #inquisition critical #2 is the middle ground if you're wondering. it has a lot of flaws but I still love it a stable amount.#inq though. inq my behated. my beloathed.#at this rate my da keep will never be completed jhbjgs #Imagine setting up and fleshing out such a fascinating and wonderful dark fantasy world #only for the second successor to spit at everything you created- retcon half your shit and add nothing of value #not content to JUST sanitize it for mass consumption- but doing so by placing the protagonist as head to a fucking religious institution!#FORCED TO WATCH / T H E M / DO THE SANITIZING IN REAL TIME! MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM #Also i vehemently hate the '[x pagan/non christian coded god/ deity] revealed to just be some guy!' trope. I fucking despise it.#just spit at my face and tell me my religion is childish and stupid instead! Save us both some fucking time!#Then there's the whole plight of the mages being treated as fucking laughing stock and the wardens suddenly becoming incompetent babies #most likely just to bolster your protagonist's ego because look! This whole supposedly world saving order is stupid enough -#to fall to Coryphallus! But not you inquisitor- you're truly so strong and special and perfect and so much better than them!#just thinking about the wardens in inq. Mmm violence.#You know. darkspawn chronicles implies the Warden is the only reason the blight was defeated right?#similar to how the time traveling in inq implies the inquisitor is the only one that can stop corypenis #However the big difference is that 1. neither the warden nor the player explicitly know (could be assumed that Alistair/Riordan-#would manage without you)#2.though your recruitment was coincidental- it was still /earned/. and your connection to the taint is what influences it ending.#you're not a chosen one. just one of the chosen ones; in a sense #3. by inq- after seeing to protagonists accomplish way more with way less. I'm sorry but magic hand or no i'm not convinced-#that the inky is the only person capable of saving the world. Just not buying it.#And i'm not even done touching on HALF the things I hate! Yet another example: inq as a game has the strongest obvious agenda #and it's infuriating #Oh you're allowed to be a piece of shit to Sera; but you want to tear into mother Gizelle for literally spreading fucked up rumors-#about your love interest (talking about Dorian) and then having the GALL to come up to you fake concerned asking you to break up?#sorry mate the worst thing you can say is 'And where did those rumors come from?' mildly aggressively

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vounoura · 6 months

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to be clear I love the champion point system bc it's a fun spin on the MMO-standard of raising the overall level cap and it's nice to have something with actual effects on my character to progress on (the much, much faster leveling at veteran rank doesn't make it a slog either, and it's obviously something you're meant to gain passively doing what you were normally doing) even after the 'soft' level cap and gear stat cap and doesn't make me feel like I'm wasting exp doing things like questing, world bosses, delves, etc bc technically I'm still leveling.

but tbh the main reason I like it is bc they had the genuinely good idea to make cp points a) account-wide and b) usable by every character on the account even if they're not high enough level to actually level cps themselves, and I like that you're tacitly rewarded not just for doing things on your main but for having alts and having them at max level bc every cp level makes every single one of your characters stronger even at level 1.

#saint.txt #long post #a good example to contrast ig is ff.xiv #which VERY strongly does not want you to have alts. everything abt it is designed so that you don't need to.#you can replay the story whenever you want - no need to remake a character.#the class system is designed so that one character has free access to every job that you can switch between #freely at any time and even your gear is shared between different classes.#so you don't need to make multiple characters to test out that job that looks cool which is a blessing and a curse #bc imo trying new classes or builds is a major reason for why you make alts.#great if you're a raider or smth or just don't like juggling multiple characters bc everything is convenient! I love it for that #but ff.xiv's system SUCKS if you're say. an avid RPer or just someone who likes to make alts and level them through content #or just someone who likes to make multiple characters for literally any reason.#want to try playing a different player race? well your options are make an alt and spend no joke at least like #a hundred+ hours getting them caught up to your main #....or spend real money and buy a fantasia or a level skip. all of which suck.#or most other MMOs are like. we want you to get to max level asap. but once you do that's kinda just it. you have an alt that sits there #masteries in g.w2 are similar and it's why I like those too. but eso's lasts a lot longer than masteries #I think the alt problem in MMOs is kinda unsolvable tbh pretty much no matter what you do the bigger #an MMO gets the more tedious the leveling process of alts goes when you don't have the novelty of new content #and learning new systems to distract you but I like that ESO rewards you for trying by making your alts much much much #stronger and more effective which makes everything faster w/ champion points #and that if your alts are at max level you can still make meaningful progress on them for your main #idk. am I making sense here

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dyketubbo · 1 year

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honestly guess i shouldnt be surprised abt tommy making another grooming joke. disappointed for sure. i hope someone sits him down and tells him to fucking quit it. i hope literally anyone who is close to tommy tells him why he needs to stop making those jokes instead of just going dude dont do that so maybe this time it sticks. i hope he realizes at some point that dream isnt someone to look up to and never will be. but at this point im not surprised. disappointed but not surprised

#grooming ment #cc!tommy crit #uugghhhh.#hey dream stans is this really the type of environment you want to support.#because we all know dream only benefits from this. hes not going to tell tommy to stop. the more jokes about it #the easier he'll get away with it.#mask mews #negative #as a reminder im not going to tag anything related to grooming as discourse or as a 'situation'#i personally do not like putting it on a similar level to fandom drama. this is real life shit with real life consequences #tommy is going to make his younger fans think that this is okay #and hes going to encourage groomers and anyone else who sees it as a joke to consume his content #the only people who benefit from making grooming jokes are groomers and its really fucked up that anyone in his circle is standing by #as he makes gross jokes and downplays the trauma of grooming victims so he can continue to pretend like dream is someone #to look up to

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bitchthefuck1 · 2 years

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Alex Stern is Rory Deveaux if she had way less privilege and started seeing ghosts younger, and Darlington is Stephen Dene if he had less childhood trauma

#literally they both even have more ~celestial~ names that they use gender neutral nicknames for except Rory's name is a lot less out there #which is a good reflection of the fact that while rory is seen as 'low class' by her wexford peers for being an American Southerner shes #still a white girl with upper middle class parents whereas Alex is mixed race and raised by a financially unstable single mother #but they both get the 'you do not belong in this reputable institution' treatment at their respective schools #and the 'i cant tell anyone what i see or they'll lock me up somewhere'#they're both also weird even for their ghost-aware group bc Alex can see greys and rory is a terminus #i feel like the stephen dene and Darlington comparison is way more obvious so im not really going to bother pointing things out #like they even look the same #anyway thats just a thing i noticed #this isnt a callout or a 'this is derivative of that' they're both good books/series and the actual content and tones and themes are very #different it's just a superficial character similarity i noticed and like. i like all these characters so im not mad about it #shades of london #ninth house #alex stern #rory deveaux #darlington #stephen dene

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tender-rosiey · 8 months

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“OH GOD! IT’S WALKING?!”

— baby’s first steps with gojo, nanami, geto, and sukuna (f!reader)

GOJO SATORU:

your daughter simply adores her father, and she is almost as energetic as him. you recall multiple times when he would pick her up smiling, and she would hold his face giggling and smiling just as much.

it’s such a cute scene, and you have at least 6 similar photos.

so yeah, it doesn’t surprise you that she keeps looking at the door, waiting for him to come back from his mission.

you’re both sitting on the ground, a little distance from the door. you lightly tickle her, “you wanna see dada?”

she looks up to you then looks to the door and murmurs, “dada.”

“he will be here soon; I promise,” you press a kiss to her cheek, and she squeals. soon, the door clicks and it slowly opens to reveal your dear husband who’s holding what you think are bags of sweets, toys, and souvenirs.

“the world’s best dad and husband is here!” he announces brightly. quickly, you get your phone out to record yet another cute moment between your daughter and your husband.

however, neither you nor your husband expected your little girl to stand up excitedly and try to waddle her way to her dad.

“dada! dada!” she says as she hurriedly stumbles and waddles her way to him.

satoru kneels down on the ground, opening his arms widely as he grins, “yes, dada! come to dada, baby!”

successfully, the girl stumbles into satoru’s arms and giggles as he peppers her face with kisses.

he looks up to you with a pout, shifting d/n into one arm, “excuse me, but I would like my two favorite girls to be in my arms, right now!”

you chuckle and settle into his embrace and he presses a kiss to the top of her head and your own.

d/n gives him a kiss—more like simply put her mouth on his cheek—and nuzzles into his chest. satoru grins before looking at you, “she is so cute!”

you quip with a big smile, “I got that on video!”

“you and your gorgeous mind,” he hums as he kisses your cheek.

NANAMI KENTO:

“kento, you’re going to grow grey hair early like this.”

honestly, you can’t blame him for worrying like this. you were finally going on vacation, so your husband wanted everything to be organized.

the last thing he needs is a headache after he finally got rid of the walking one (read: gojo).

he sits down, sighing, “I know; I just don’t want anything to go wrong.”

you chuckle, and settle down beside him, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek, “don’t worry,” you say, “we checked everything over a million times. nothing will go wrong.”

nanami smiles tiredly before pulling you into a gentle kiss, “well, I guess you’re right,” he looks around for a moment, “where is d/n?”

“she is playing with her toys on the mat; why?”

“she is not on the mat.”

“she is not on the what?!” you yell, bolting out of your seat and frantically searching for her, “d/n, honey, where are you?!”

“y/n, calm down!” your husband tries to comfort you, “she is still in the house, so don’t stress about it; we will find her.”

as if on cue, a giggle and a coo are heard behind nanami. he turns to find the culprit, his 10 months old girl grinning. she squeals and tries to walk towards him, hands eagerly reaching out for him.

she is stumbling a bit, and her steps are clumsy, and nanami couldn’t have been prouder.

he smiles fondly, “good girl, d/n,” he opens his arms, encouraging, “you can do it.”

she flails her arms as she giggles, “da-dada!”

d/n finally reaches his leg and holds onto it for dear life. she starts swaying as she looks up at him, “dada!” he bends down to kiss the top of her head.

she hums happily, before waddling towards you, worried, “mama?”

you breathe a sigh of relief and hold her in your arms, “you got me worried, baby,” you stroke her hair and she nuzzles into your embrace, little hands gripping your shirt tightly.

nanami lets out a chuckle as he watches your daughter starts to fall asleep in your arms.

he moves to hug you two, and hums with content, “and you say that I am the worrywart.”

GETO SUGURU:

“y/n, what makes you so sure that they will start walking soon?” your husband says as he watches his two little girls play in the garden.

he already had nanako and mimiko, but god chose to grace him with his own pair of twins.

he couldn’t be happier, especially with way the twins both care for each other and beam whenever they see him.

he also adores seeing them play with you; it brings a type of serenity to his heart.

you chuckle, “call it a mother’s instincts.”

suguru rolls his eyes and pulls you by the waist, “you showing off, pretty?”

“nope! just asserting dominance.”

with a roll of his eyes, he gives you a peck on the nose. the both of you then settle down on the grass as well, quietly watching the girls try to chase—wait what chase?

suguru and you lock eyes, and he quickly scrambles to get the camera. meanwhile, you’re trying to encourage the girls to continue their walking, “who’s winning, girls?”

each one of the stumbling babies yells out a—supposedly—‘me!’. they‘re both squealing as they walk around.

soon enough, suguru makes an appearance and starts recording, “I am gonna get you!”

the girls squeal and try their best to run away from the big bad monster.

the very cute thing that even has suguru pausing in his chase is that when one of them falls, the other waits for her or tries to help her up.

of course, the latter mostly results in both of them falling on their small little bums. luckily, they clumsily stand up instead of crying their eyes out.

they get tired eventually though, so they waddle their way to you. both of them sit beside you and rest their heads on your lap.

suguru stands in front of you, hands on his hips, “you leaving me out of this group cuddle?”

your twins perk up and turn their heads to peak at him and they giggle when he pouts. still, they open their little arms for their dad to join the family hug, “dada! hug!”

RYOMEN SUKUNA:

your husband is not exactly the most enthusiastic father.

he wasn’t that affected by your son’s first word being dada, and a lot of things that you can’t be bothered to think about.

so yeah, you’re left with the role to be the encouraging parent, and to hype your son whenever he accomplishes something.

so obviously, your son adores you more than he does his father. however, there is no denying that sukuna’s genes are indeed strong.

despite the kid’s beaming smile, he could be choking a snake. it actually reminds you of that one hercules scene.

your son also has a quicker development than most kids, but it doesn’t lessen the excitement when he finally took his first steps.

you held onto sukuna’s arms, pointing at your boy, “sukuna, look, he is walking!”

“so?”

you pause then look at your husband, “what do you mean ‘so’?” you grin, “they’re his first steps, you silly goose!”

sukuna frowns, “I am not a silly goose,” he then rolls his eyes, “he was going to start walking sooner or later anyway, woman.”

you huff, “you’re no fun.”

however, you don’t get to dwell on it for much longer as you hear the scream of one of the servants. you and your husband are looking towards them, and—suffice to say—it’s a memorable scene.

your son, who just started walking, is somehow holding a wooden pickaxe and waddling his way behind the servant.

he is grinning and squealing too like he isn’t about to beat up an innocent person (it reminds you of something or rather someone).

the servant is surprisingly terrified form the kid as she screams, “my lady, please save me!”

you have no idea how a grown woman is terrified of a one year old, but you will give her the benefit of the doubt that he is, after all, the son of the king of curses.

you sigh with a chuckle and walk towards them, “on my way.”

the kid squeals, waddling quicker after the servant who’s about to shit her pants.

meanwhile, sukuna is smirking proudly as he watches his son, “now, that’s my kid.”

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yueebby · 7 months

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Dying thinking about gojo literally pinning and hardcore simping for reader, literally showering reader in praise, flattery and gifts because he no longer gives a damn about hiding his feelings, almost proposing to reader whenever he can and reader's just... completely clueless about it💀 and she thinks it's just gojo being friendly. Poor man would be absolutely devastated when he goes one day "[name] i'm in love with you" and she just goes "me too, i love all my friends!" 💀

she loves me, she loves me not! — gojo satoru x fem!reader

contents. fluff, lovesick!gojo (what’s new), highschool!gojo, he’s pathetic but in love your honor, oblivious!reader, ooc gojo i got carried away soz

notes. anon, when i first read your ask i literally started giggling and kicking my feet. that. is. so. gojo coded.

“please reject gojo and put him out of his misery,” utahime implored, taking hold of both of your hands. you think she’s asking, no, begging you to. beside her, shoko nods vigorously.

“but why?” you furrow your eyebrows, perplexed by their sudden request. “i can’t reject someone who doesn’t like me.”

shoko giggles at your comment. her laughter only wanes when she notices the dead serious look on your face. “... you seriously have no idea what we’re talking about?”

“not really,” you shrug, criss-crossing your legs to find some comfort on the hard wooden floor in shoko’s small dorm. it was late, past midnight, and the three of you had a shared mission tomorrow, but for some reason your two friends managed to rope you into their drinking circle.

utahime and shoko exchanged a significant glance, their unspoken communication raising your curiosity. utahime takes a long sip of her beer.

“hopeless. they’re both hopeless,” your short haired brunette friend lamented, pinching her nose bridge. it leaves a faint pink mark.

intrigued, you lean in closer towards the two, “care to elaborate?”

“you’ve never once questioned satoru’s borderline inappropriate behavior?” shoko asks you earnestly. you ponder for a moment, trying to recall any moments in the two years you’ve known the snow-haired boy.

“satoru is satoru…” you mumble, shaking your head in denial.

utahime’s eyes bug comically. she slams her can of beer harshly on the ground. you wince at the loud noise of the metallic can hitting the floor.

“you’re kidding. even i can see through that jerk!” utahime’s black pigtails sway wildly.

“[name], how about what happened in shinjuku last week on our day off?” shoko quietly reminds you of last weekend when the two of you along with satoru and suguru decided to empty your pockets in one of tokyo’s largest entertainment wards.

utahime’s head whips back and forth from her best friend to you, “eh? what happened?!”

from behind the dressing room curtain, you voiced your concerns, “shoko, i don't think we can afford designer clothes on our student budget.” the cream-colored silk dress you wore clung to your body, its price tag undoubtedly surpassing a year's worth of your student earnings.

“don’t worry your pretty little head about it,” shoko’s voice carried a knowing smile. “just come out and show me the dress!” you think satoru’s carefree attitude is rubbing off on her.

with a nervous sigh, you emerged from the dressing room. the dress fit like a glove, accentuating your body in just the right places.

bright flashes from shoko's phone startled you, and she chuckled deviously while rapidly typing. she tossed her phone onto a luxurious cushion, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of exposure.

“you look so sexy. even better than the model.” she gives you two thumbs up, eyes roaming your figure. you feel flushed at her praise.

“as flattered as i am, there’s no way i can afford this,” you look down at the dress, lips downturned. “i’d be in debt for life.”

“no need to worry,” shoko winked, leaving you confused. given that her income was similar to yours, it didn't make sense for her to be able to even dream of shopping designer.

a soft thud interrupted your conversation. you turn around to see a blue lollipop rolling on the expensive carpeting of the store.

“suguru, are my eyes deceiving me or is that an angel?” satoru's mouth is wide open as he shamelessly checks you out. he takes one of his hands and places it over his heart, gripping the fabric of his white shirt. the windbreaker he is wearing rustles at his dramatic movement.

“i think… i’m experiencing a heart attack! shoko help!” he kneels in the middle of the store dramatically. shoko shares an unamused look with suguru. the pair nod before simultaneously kicking satoru.

during all of the commotion, you stand awkwardly in the million yen dress.

“satoru, are you okay?” you watch him take the two blows from your friends, concern evident in your voice. he grunts softly before gently taking ahold of your hand.

“no,” he croaks with a playful glint in his eye. “i’m wounded and there’s only one way to fix it.”

you look at him, your gaze heavy with concern.

“i’m afraid you’ll have to kiss me for the pain to go away.” he added, blinking at you expectantly with his blue eyes.

you lightly shove him away from you. “you’re an idiot.” satoru laughs loudly.

“that’s what love does to a man.”

“yeah, yeah. i’m going to change out of this dress, don’t get into any more trouble while i’m gone.”

satoru’s grip on your hand strengthens, halting your actions.

“how much?”

“excuse me?”

“the dress. how much for it?” he stands up to his full height, reminding you of the obvious height difference between the two of you.

you're at loss for words. gojo was crazy, but definitely not crazy enough to spend a million yen on a silly dress.

shoko happily chimes into the conversation. “one million yen. it’ll be two million yen with the rest of my purchases though!”

suguru’s calm demeanor is replaced with shock. the black haired male’s jaw drops, “two million– satoru, you’re seriously not thinking about–”

“hah? who said i’m paying for your stuff?” gojo makes an ugly face at shoko.

she raises her hands innocently, “it’s not my fault the dresses come in a set. if you want to see your beloved [name] in that dress you’ll have to pay for mine as well.”

you watch shoko and satoru engage into a silent argument. the tension in the fitting room section is so thick, you think it’ll take a special grade weapon to slice through it.

trying to alleviate the mood you tell gojo, “satoru, you really don’t have to–”

“i’m buying you that dress.”

“o-okay.”

half an hour later, satoru happily strolls out of the store with an arm around your shoulder like he’d just won the lottery.

perhaps gojo is just naturally flirty, you had tried to reason to shoko and utahime.

it’s been a week since the eye-opening conversation with the two and you’ve found yourself on cleaning duty with said snow-haired boy. it was a miracle that satoru even showed up. he had a tendency to skip his turns, often resulting in a long lecture from yaga.

as the two of you worked silently in the empty classroom, you couldn't help but admire the setting sun. its golden rays painted the sky with hues of pink and orange, casting a warm glow over everything. unknowingly, while you gazed at the sky, gojo's gaze was firmly fixed on you.

breaking the silence, he asked, "have you ever thought about getting married?"

his question caught you off guard, causing you to momentarily pause from wiping the windows.

“not really,” you replied, biting your lip gently. “unless my family decides to arrange a marriage. you know how unforgiving the world of jujutsu sorcery is.”

gojo's grip on the broom tightened, his eyes locking onto yours with a newfound intensity.

"we should get married y'know," he blurted out.

the piece of cloth you were using slipped from your hand in shock. surely, he couldn't mean what he was saying. after all, the two of you were only second years.

“what?”

“i’m saying i think i’m in love with you.”

“oh.”

silence engulfs the room once more before a soft giggle escapes your lips.

satoru can only watch, entranced.

“that’s good to hear! i love you too– and suguru and shoko! perhaps the four of us should all just get married.” you chuckle into your hand.

satoru can't help but stare at your hand in envy. perhaps if he were the palm of your hand, he’d be able to feel the touch of your lips.

but he couldn’t. he was cursed as a man with an overpowered innate technique, and despite it all he couldn’t even gain the one thing he desired. gojo satoru watched you, eyes filled with a mixture of longing and defeat.

his devastation does not go unnoticed by you.

you were under the impression that he was grumpy because yaga had forced him into cleaning with you.

"cheer up, satoru! if we finish early enough," you continue, your tone highspirited, "we can go to the new crepe shop that opened last week. my treat!" you winked, and that immediately caught his attention.

“like a date?” his eyes sparkled with hope.

you shrug, a smile on your face. “i suppose if you look at it from a certain perspective…”

“great, it’s a date!”

good things come to those who wait, satoru thinks, humming happily as he starts to sweep the room at an inhumane pace.

maybe in ten years time the two of you will be happily married with eight kids, he smiles to himself.

#kt.writes.·:*¨༺#gojo fluff #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru x you #gojo x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojou satoru x you #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #this is me coping bc of the leaks

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