#and it’s like the most frustrating thing in the world

[pomefioredove]

mirror

summary: vil falling in love with you type of post: short fic characters: vil schoenheit additional info: romantic, FLUFF, reader is yuu, reader is gender neutral, takes place during/after book 6 author's note: vilyuu is such a good and underrated dynamic I'm never not obsessed with it. always thinking about him. holding them like dolls making them kiss mwah mwah

One might be bold enough to assume that actor and model Vil Schoenheit had been a victim of Eros before.

With the world under his thumb and millions of adoring fans at his beck and call, it was easy to fantasize about the image of a shining star that had left a string of broken hearts behind him. His persona of perfection gave off such a dazzling impression that any other truth is simply unimaginable. Beautiful, talented, devoted...

...Untouchable to such a degree that the very truth of the matter was that Vil Schoenheit had never been in love. He had no use, let alone time, to indulge himself in something that he found distracting at best and frustrating at worst. For most of his life, romance was nothing but another part to play, a frustrating rumor to dispel, a disaster to witness, something that nagged at him from the outside yet never made itself a home within him.

This idea of the confident heartbreaker Vil Schoenheit was nothing but a reflection of the image he put out, shone back at him by tabloids and fan accounts. It was a hollow interpretation, fueled by fantasies of a Vil that didn't exist in flesh and blood. And so, every time an invasive interviewer or pesky reporter inquired about the state of his personal affairs, he answered truthfully: Vil Schoenheit could easily go throughout life focusing solely on his career, on improving himself, and not miss out on anything at all.

There have been very, very few things that Vil has called himself an idiot over. That answer was one of them.

Because the very second he saw you again after being separated by Styx, the want to smack you for being so reckless in coming after him was only secondary to his want to hold you and cry until his water-proof mascara was running.

Love is such a strange emotion. Vil could never understand why Rook was so obsessed with it, how the vice housewarden fell in love with every beautiful person he saw. For his whole life Vil thought it to be painful, to be distracting, to be finite and often times nothing but a shallow reflection of all of one's ugliest traits.

And now, it made him feel weak and messy. He hated feeling messy.

...And yet, what he wouldn't do to have his lipstick smeared over your mouths. To have you see him with his hair undone and eyes bleary with sleep, and to see you in that state as well. It was not the time, nor the place, but he wanted to cradle you in his arms until this terrible, sickly feeling of longing you'd left him with went away.

For the first time in his life, Vil was suddenly terrified of being alone.

No, not alone- he was terrified of being without you.

To never see your smile again would be a fate worse than death, worse than growing old and haggard. How terrible to think that just one simple person could so easily undo everything about him, and yet, he wanted more of that very feeling. He would unwrap himself layer by layer for you if you asked, taking off all of the years of discipline and poise, and lay vulnerable before you so that you could be soft and simple together. Vil had always regarded romance as difficult, but falling in love with you was surprisingly easy.

He did not have to save Grim from the Underworld, despite what he claimed. Such a risky move cost him everything he loved, everything beautiful about him, everything except for you. And as much as he mourned for himself, he knew he would do it again and again if it meant saving the smile on your face.

And perhaps he was too wishful with his thinking, but he could have sworn he saw that same familiar glimmer of affection and admiration in your eyes when you met his gaze. As if you couldn't even see the pasty, wrinkled mess he'd turned into, and were peering at something behind it.

It made him feel utterly exposed and offered him no comfort, but the thought that you were looking at something not even he could see lingered in the back of his mind, even after his magical energy was rejuvenated.

He had become so familiar with everyone around him being a mirror, reflecting his carefully crafted image right back at him, showering him with two-dimensional praises, that being seen as an object of flesh and blood and tears was a strange notion. To behold his presence and see a person with wants and needs and flaws rather than a flat surface, a decorative magazine atop a coffee table, left him with a strange feeling in his chest. The thought both bothered and warmed him.

Vil Schoenheit was so hopelessly in love with you, and it didn't hurt. It wasn't difficult or ugly or forced, it took not even the least bit of effort. He sunk into the feeling like a warm bath which never grew colder, and he let that be his new reality. It felt strange to imagine that there was a time where he didn't love you, where he didn't look at you as if you were the moon itself, where you weren't such a part of his being that he couldn't imagine life without you.

And he never expressed these feelings in words. They existed inside of him, running through his veins like the very blood that kept him alive and warm, and they weren't distracting, just another part of him that he kept tucked away to occupy his thoughts on rainy days.

...But the best part of it was that he didn't need words. Because when you looked at him, when you saw the Vil the not even he could see, you could already tell they were there. The mirror, the pane of glass that had always existed between himself and others, was non-existent for you.

Vil thought that someday he might be able to see himself through that glass the way you did, but he was perfectly content with simply looking at you instead for the time being.

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #vil schoenheit x reader

[izzyreadingblog]

I didn't knew love (till I found you) (1)

Alexia Putellas x Reader

tags: Angst / Internalized Homophobia/ Strangers to Friends to Lovers

“What do you mean, you want me to buy the Soulmater? Do you know how much it costs?" Robert’s voice was tinged with disbelief.

Yes, of course you knew. The device cost was astronomical, but that paled in comparison to the turmoil churning inside yourself. You needed to be completely sure of your decision to marry your long time boyfriend Mark. It wasn’t just cold feet; it was a gnawing uncertainty that clawed at your heart and hasn't stopped worrying you for some time now.

“You can take the money from my share of the inheritance. I don't care about that Robert, but please help me with this, I’ve never asked you for anything before,” you implored, your eyes brimming with a mix of desperation and hope. You approached your brother and grasped his hands, forcing him to look into your eyes. “I need to know. I need to be sure about this, please Rob help me.”

Robert’s gaze softened at your words, but his words remained firm. “If you really need to know then that means Mark isn’t your soulmate. If he were, you wouldn’t be so consumed with doubt and worries.”

“I don’t know, it’s just that something has been feeling off for a time now…” you shook your head, a gesture of frustration and confusion, unable to articulate the storm of emotions inside you.

“Why don’t you go buy it yourself then? You’re old enough to make your own decisions; you don’t need to drag me into this, I don’t want to get involved.” He pulled away from your grasp and stood up, ready to leave the room and the weight of your request behind.

“I don’t want Mark to find out and you are the only person I trust to do this. Robert, please, do this for me. I promise never to ask you for anything else.” you mustered your most convincing expression, the one you knew your brother couldn’t resist. And just like that, you saw the familiar resignation in his eyes. Despite his protests, he would be always there for you no matter what.

“Okay I would do it, but this is the last crazy thing I do for you.” The both of you knew it was a lie, but it didn’t matter. You lunged forward, enveloping him in a hug, your smile radiating pure joy. “I’ll stop by after work and bring it to you tonight.”

“Thank you, thank you! I love you so much; you are the best brother in the world,” you exclaimed, your gratitude genuine and boundless.

Once Robert had left, a wave of anxiety washed over you. What if Mark wasn’t your soulmate? What if your true match was already married to someone else? Or what if he was single? Would you have the courage to introduce yourself as his soulmate, hoping for a fairy-tale ending?. Taking a deep breath, you tried to lower down the rising panic. There were too many questions and too many uncertainties, so you decided to scour the internet for stories of others who had used the Soulmater, seeking guidance for the myriad of potential outcomes that would come once you know the name of your soulmate.

The Soulmater, according to its creators, was an infallible computer algorithm that boasted a 100% success rate every time. The device itself was really simple: a screen where one entered their name and date of birth, and within moments, the name and birthdate of their soulmate appeared. It has a hefty price tag of $100,000 so it’s meant only for a few who had the means to try it, but those who did were unanimous in their praise. Upon meeting their soulmate, they were instantly certain the device had not failed. You found nothing but happy endings in the reviews, save for one heart-wrenching account of a man whose soulmate had passed away before they could meet. A chill ran down your spine, and instantly you regretted delving into these stories. Now, your doubts hadn’t been calmed, they had multiplied.

Your phone buzzed with a message from Mark: ‘Where are you? We’ve been waiting for you for half an hour!!!’

You had completely forgotten about the meeting you had planned with your boyfriend and your future mother-in-law to set the wedding date. ‘I had to take care of something important at home. I’ll be there in 10 minutes,’ you replied, your heart not in it.

When you arrived at the coffee shop, the sight of Mark sitting alone stirred a sense of nervousness. A tight knot formed in your stomach, the kind that no amount of rational thought could untangle.

“Hey baby, where's your mother?” you asked, planting a kiss on his cheek, trying to mask your concern with a casual greeting. The kiss was a mere formality, a gesture devoid of the affection it once carried.

“She left a while ago! you know my mom is too important a person for you to be wasting her time,” Mark replied, his tone laced with irritation. His words stung you, a verbal slap that echoed the growing distance that exists between the both of you.

But you didn't let those words stop you and unfazed, you countered, “Well, we can decide on the wedding date ourselves.” you signaled the waiter to bring her the same drink Mark had, seeking some semblance of normalcy. Cause normalcy was a facade, a thin veneer over the chaos of your inner thoughts and worries.

“There is no need for that, we've already decided,” Mark declared, his voice cutting through the hum of the coffee shop.

Confusion clouded your face. “What do you mean is already decided?” you asked, your voice a mix of surprise and apprehension.

“The date will be June 25, there’s nothing else to decide about that” he stated matter-of-factly, as if he were discussing the weather, not your future.

“But that's in less than a month!” Panic rose in your voice, a crescendo of fear and disbelief. It was too soon; you wouldn't have time to prepare everything. The words 'too soon' echoed in your mind, a cruel reminder of the rushed decisions that had led you here with little chance to change anything.

“Please, the only thing we need to do is show up on the wedding day. Leave the rest to my mother, she knows what she does and she is excellent at making events” he dismissed your concerns with a wave of his hand. His indifference was a chasm that widened with every word he spoke.

You clenched your fists under the table, struggling to contain your frustration. “It's my wedding too, and I want a say in how it's going to be. I think I have the right to decide what I want for my wedding too.” Your voice was firm.

“Don't get upset. I'll ask my mom to involve you as much as possible. You can choose the venue, the catering, everything you want, my love. But the wedding will be on June 25. That's final.” His words were a gavel, pounding the final nail into the coffin of your hopes.

The coffee shop was a quaint little place, nestled in the heart of the city, its walls adorned with vintage posters and shelves lined with an assortment of colorful mugs. The aroma of freshly ground coffee beans mingled with the scent of baked goods, creating a cozy atmosphere that usually brought comfort to her. Today, however, the familiar setting did nothing to ease the turmoil within. As you sat across from Mark, your mind replayed the events leading up to this moment. You remembered the countless times you had walked through these doors, hand in hand with Mark, laughing and planning your future together. But now, as you gazed out of the window, watching the world go by, you felt a disconnection from those memories. They seemed like scenes from someone else’s life, not yours. Mark was talking, but his words were a distant hum in your ears, you watched his lips move, observed the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled, and yet, you felt an inexplicable void. 

You thought about the Soulmater, that small, unassuming device that promised to unveil the mysteries of the heart. It was absurd, really, to place so much faith in a piece of technology. And yet, the possibility of discovering a connection so profound, so intrinsic, that it could be deemed a ‘soulmate,’ was too tantalizing to ignore. Your thoughts were interrupted by the waiter, who arrived with your drink, a caramel macchiato, the foam artfully swirled on top. You thanked him with a smile, one that didn’t quite reach your eyes. As you took a sip, the sweetness of the caramel was a stark contrast to the bitterness that lingered on your tongue from the conversation. Mark’s impatience was palpable. He checked his watch, tapped his foot, and sighed heavily, all signs that he was ready to move on from the coffee shop and from the topic at hand. You knew you should be present, should engage in the discussion about your impending nuptials, but your heart was elsewhere, lost in a sea of what-ifs and maybes. 

The coffee shop began to fill up, the lunchtime crowd bringing with it a buzz of activity. Couples sat at nearby tables, some in deep conversation, others comfortable in their silence. You envied them, envied their certainty and the ease with which they seemed to fit into each other’s lives. As the afternoon wore on, the sunlight shifted, casting long shadows across the floor. The change in light marked the passage of time, a reminder that life was moving forward, with or without your consent. You glanced at Mark again, trying to picture your future together, but the image was hazy, obscured by doubt. 

When the time came to leave, you followed Mark out of the coffee shop, the bell above the door jingling in their wake. The city streets were bustling, people rushing about their day, oblivious to the internal struggle that weighed heavily on your shoulders. Going back home was a blur, your mind preoccupied with the Soulmater and how a name can change her life upside down. As you approached your apartment, the sight of Robert’s car was a beacon of hope. You quickened your pace, eager to close the distance between you and the answers that lay within the small, silver package he had procured for you. 

“Did you get it?” you asked Robert, your voice trembling with anticipation.

“Yes, take it easy,” he reassured you, holding up the bag. “Let's go to your room.” His calmness was an anchor in the storm of your emotions.

Inside, Robert handed you the silver package. The Soulmater was smaller than you expected, fitting snugly in your palm. It was unassuming, yet it held the power to alter the course of your life. You hesitated before pressing the power button, your finger hovering over the decision that would unveil your heart's true desire.

The familiarity of your own space was a stark contrast to the chaos of your emotions. The walls held memories of laughter and tears, of dreams and plans made. It was here, in the sanctity of your room, that you would take the leap into the unknown. 

“What's wrong? Do you want me to leave you alone?” Robert asked, sensing your hesitation.

“No, it's just... I'm scared,” you admitted, meeting his understanding gaze. The fear was a tangible thing, a shadow that loomed over you.

“Whatever the result, it'll be okay. Remember, you can return it unused,” he reminded her. His words were a lifeline, a reminder that no matter the outcome, you had the power to choose your path. Robert’s presence was a steadying force, together, you both sat on the edge of your bed. With each passing second, the anticipation built, a crescendo of hope and fear that threatened to overwhelm you. 

And then, after putting her data on the device you pressed the button, and the world as you knew it shifted.

At that moment, you didn't need a Soulmater to tell you that Mark was not the one for you. The realization hit you like a wave, cold and unyielding. You had become complacent, accepting whatever life threw at you without protest. Your father's passing had been a wake-up call, prompting you to reassess your life and the choices you were making. It was this introspection that led you to go and try the Soulmater, and now, you are certainly using it was the right decision.

The screen scrolled, and after an agonizing wait that seemed like years but only was a couple minutes long, a name and date appeared: Alexia Putellas - 02/04/1994.

“Alexia Putellas? My soulmate is a woman?” you whispered, a mix of shock and curiosity in your voice. The revelation was a puzzle piece that didn't fit the picture you had of your life, yet it was undeniably yours.

#woso fanfics #woso x reader #alexia putellas x reader #woso

[thelov3lybookworm]

Juice Stains

Summary: A day alone with the babe. What could go wrong?

•○●⛦●○•

A/n: because @secret-third-thing's this post inspired me to have eris washing socks lol you can all thank her for inspiring me 🤭

anyways, enjoyy!!

No one told Eris that giving a two year old child a glass of juice would result in him cursing his own existence.

His wife had gone to visit her friend in summer court, only just getting the chance to leave Amelia in his care since her birth. Eris had forced her to go himself, practically spewing a speech to get her nerves to calm.

Oh how he regretted that now as he rubbed the tiny fabric against itself in his hands, the water constantly running proving to be of no help against the stubborn stain of the orange juice spilled on the sock.

And the culprit of this crime? She was happily laughing away as she watched her father suffer for her actions.

Sleeves rolled up to his elbows, Eris sighed, wondering how the hell Y/n handled situations like this. His back was screaming in pain, his fingers cramping after long moments of clutching at the tiny sock of his daughter.

The stain simply refused to come off, only adding to the list of things Eris was frustrated about as he leaned back, trying to straighten his back and get rid of at least some of the pain, his eyes wandering around the room.

It was a mess, and that was putting it lightly.

On the bed lay the heap of little clothes Eris had been looking through earlier to dress his little princess after her bath, wanting to pick the most comfortable and fashionable outfit suitable for someone so important.

On the couch and in front of it lay Amelia's toys, thrown around in the fit of rage she'd been before he handed her the juice.

Which, somehow, looked like the worst decision he'd made in his life.

The glass lay abandoned on the floor next to Amelia, who was chewing on her mitten like it was the tastiest fabric in the world, juice still pooled on the floor, slowly spreading.

Releasing a breath of frustration, Eris wrung the sock in his hand, then turned and stalked over to where Amelia sat, the mitten half hanging out of her mouth, her hand covered in saliva from when she had been trying to eat herself.

Cannibalism?

Eris knew it was ridiculous to think that, but how was he to shut his mind down when he was too tired to even blink?

"Come on, its nap time." He muttered lowly, leaning down to gather Amelia in his arms, who offered him a toothy grin for his suffering.

Despite her making him work so much, he could not stay mad. Hell, he could not even bring himself to be irritated or fault her for his tiredness. She was too adorable for that.

As he slowly set her down on her back on the fluffy mattress, uncaring that she was laying diagonally on the bed, he let himself smile at her.

"Are you happy after making daddy work so much?"

She squealed as he buried his face in her neck, giggling and trying to push him away when he tried to bite at her cheek.

"You deserve that punishment, you know that right?"

Her eyes twinkled back at him, and he sighed, settling down next to her, his body from the knee down hanging off.

"I'm resting a little before mommy returns. Remind me to clean up before then, will you?"

He patted her back, gently humming a tune to get her to sleep as she babbled out an answer he was too tired to even try and decipher. It didn't take long for him to fall asleep, even though she was the one who should have been sleeping.

No, she stayed awake, talking to herself and playing with the wet sock he still had in his hand and giggling at the wet splat the material made when she slapped it onto her father's face.

She did not, in fact, wake him up before mommy arrived.

Acotar Taglist: @bubybubsters @eos-princess @nightless @harrystylesfan2686 @cassie6392 @kennedy-brooke @tele86 @miluiel1 @hnyclover @minnieoo

@sidrapotter @piceous21 @mybestfriendmademe @saltedcoffeescotch @eve175

@starsinyourseyes @starswholistenanddreamsanswered

@cumuluscranium @byyalady @lilah-asteria @girlswithimagination @gardenofrunar @girlswithimagination

@sunnyspycat

Eris Vanserra Taglist: @fell-in-luvs @azrielsmate3 @tele86 @caraaaaugh

#eris x reader #eris vanserra x reader #eris vanserra #eris acotar #a court of thorns and roses #acotar fandom #acotar fanfic #acotar fluff #acotar series #acotar writing #a court of mist and fury #mating bond #sarah j maas #acotar headcanon #pro eris vanserra #acotar #high lord eris #eris vandaddy #heir of autumn court

[frenchkisstheabyss]

♥︎ The Way I Am ♥︎

♥︎ Pairing ♥︎ fiance!seonghwa x gn!makeup artist!reader

♥︎ Genre ♥︎ fluff/angst

♥︎ Summary ♥︎ Your fiance's been successfully keeping his love of makeup hidden from you. That is until you come home early from a trip and find him using your things. Your reaction is (of course ♥︎) the exact opposite of what he feared.

♥︎ Word Count ♥︎ 1.6kish

♥︎ Warnings ♥︎ Hwa does express his worries about being vulnerable with his identity so if that's sensitive to you that's super important to note. Other than that, nothing. Just fluff and reassurance ♥︎

♥︎ A/N ♥︎ I hope that if you're reading this and you feel nervous about expressing your gender identity out of fear that people won't accept you, you know that you're totally worthy of love and acceptance no matter what. Love you ♥︎

"'Cause I love you more than I could ever promise and you take me the way I am" - Ingrid Michaelson (The Way I Am)

Seonghwa hopes that you don’t notice. A few drops of foundation here. A swipe or two of eyeliner there. Maybe some lipstick or blush if he’s feeling adventurous. He wishes he had the courage to ask you to do this for him. You’re the most talented makeup artist he’s ever met. Watching you work is like art. How wonderful it’d be to bare the most vulnerable part of himself to you. To be your lover and your canvas. But every time he tries to open up the fear creeps in and the words won’t come out.

So this is the way it is—the way it’ll always have to be. Your wedding’s less than a month away and the thought that he might lose you makes his soul ache. He can’t risk losing you. He won’t risk losing you. 

Tonight he’s raided your makeup supplies for everything necessary to create the soft, romantic look of his dreams. With the warm air of a summer night blowing through the bedroom window and Spotify’s best Taylor Swift mix blasting in his over-ear headphones, the vibe couldn't be more perfect.

He’s been like this for at least an hour, seated at your vanity trying to get his foundation to match. You have every shade imaginable but none are what he wants. And mixing them? Well—

“Fuck” Seonghwa huffs, staring at his reflection, frustration and two pale layers of foundation painted all over his face. He scans the meticulously organized desk for the makeup wipes and gets to work cleaning it off. It takes everything in him not to throw something but he manages to suppress his violent urges long enough to pick up a brush again.

Thank god he has all night to do this. You won’t be home from your trip until tomorrow afternoon. By then he’ll have put everything back in its place and you’ll never know a thing. At least that’s the way things were meant to go but the unexpected glimmer of your reflection lingering by the bedroom door destroys that in an instant.

You thought it’d be sweet to surprise Seonghwa by coming home early. The event you were hired for had been canceled and you always missed each other so much. You figured it only made sense to come back home. You even stopped at his favorite takeout spot on the way from the airport to pick up dinner.

No one’s ever come close to treating you with as much love and care as Seonghwa has. Everything he does makes you feel warm and fuzzy inside. Just glancing down at the sparkly ring on your finger is enough to make your face light up. Any chance you have to make him feel the same way isn’t one you’re willing to pass up.

But, for the first time since you met, his face doesn’t light up at the sight of you. It darkens as if the world has ended and you can’t help but feel like you’re the one who ended it. 

“Hwa—” you sigh softly, approaching the vanity where he sits nearly catatonic. Tears collect in the corner of his deep brown eyes, his fingers beginning to shake around the makeup brush. “It’s okay” you promise, gently resting a hand on his shoulder. Seonghwa pulls away from you, tearing the headphones off of his head. His dark hair hangs in his face giving him a safe place to hide from the disappointment he knows is waiting for him if he dares meet your gaze.

Only there isn’t any...

This isn’t what you expected to come home to but it’s far from a surprise for you. One of the things you always loved about Seonghwa was how comfortable he seemed to be in his own skin. While other guys saw every little thing as a threat to their masculinity, he treated femininity as something beautiful. You can’t even count the amount of times you’ve wanted to do his makeup. Those eyes. Those lips. That killer bone structure. He’s perfect for that kind of thing. You wish now more than ever that you’d said something.

“I’m really sorry. I didn’t—I’m just—I’m so sorry” he mumbles, choking back tears. You outstretch your arms to wrap him in a hug but he slips away again, rushing to the closet to grab his gym bag. “Hwa, what are you doing? Can you stop for a second? Please?” you beg, following him around the room as he blindly tosses things into the bag.

You’ve never felt more invisible. Your words fall on deaf ears and each time you reach out to touch him he recoils. Seonghwa grabs his phone from the dresser, snatching free of the grip you have on the sleeve of his shirt. This is his worst nightmare. In the blink of an eye he lost everything, he’s convinced of that. He doesn’t know what to say or what to do. All he can think to do is run. 

“You can’t do this!” you shout, trailing him down the hallway, “You have to talk to me!”

Seonghwa breathes in, beyond pissed off at the few tears that manage to escape. “I have to leave. I have to—to protect you.”

Hearing the pain in his voice, you nearly trip on your luggage to throw yourself in front of the door. “Is it to protect me? Or to protect yourself?”

That stops him in his tracks, his foot already halfway into a pair of sneakers. Who’s he running away for really? It’s a question that only makes the pounding in his head worse. He knows that you love him. You tell him every morning, even when you’re apart, how special he is to you. You’re begging him to stay but he can’t. He can’t. Why can’t he?

“Move please” he asks, his hand tight around the doorknob. 

You fold your arms across your chest, back pressed to the door, “No.” 

“Move…please” his voice is deeper this time, the request sounding more like a demand. 

Slipping your hands beneath the curtain of jade hair, you rest them on cheeks that burn hot enough to heat your palms. Your fingers are stained with tears and what makeup remains on his cheeks. “I love you so much” you whisper, refusing to let him get away this time, “I need you to look at me.”

You hold your breath in the silence that follows, exhaling only when his mascara smeared eyes meet yours. “I. Love. You. So. Much” you say but slower this time, putting emphasis on every word. Your heart breaks for him, for how terrified you can tell he’s been of this happening.

You raise one of your hands to show him the makeup covering it. “I don’t care about this, Hwa. I care about you.” The faint smile on your face speaks of comfort, a truly safe place for him to be if he wants it. His hand falls away from the doorknob as he lets the gym bag hit the floor with a thud.

“I would’ve told you before but I…” he pauses to summon the courage to go on, “I was afraid you wouldn’t want me anymore.” You let out a sigh of relief at the sensation of his arms easing around your waist. He holds you so tightly that you’d swear you were the one trying to run away. 

“Oh, my love. I wish you could meet yourself so you’d know how amazing you are” you sniffle, only now noticing the trickling of your own tears. “I want to be with you—all of you—whatever that looks like.”

Seonghwa uses his hands to wipe away your tears, leaving them tinted in the light makeup you threw on before your flight. “And see, we’re twins now” you giggle, desperate to lighten the mood. Seonghwa stares at you longingly, the light gradually reigniting behind his eyes. “I love you too” he smiles, his lips brushing yours, “So much.”

He kisses you in the most innocent way and it’s like your first kiss all over again. Packed with nerves and excitement that melt away the longer you linger here. It’ll take some time to fade—the fear of being vulnerable—but it will fade and you’ll be there for it all. 

“Will you help me fix it?” he asks, nervously fidgeting with the waist of your paints, “You don’t have to but I have a picture on my phone and—” You cover his mouth with your hand before he can say anything more, “Of course I’ll help you. Shower first though?” Seonghwa suddenly becomes hyper aware of the slight mess on his hands—in his hair—on both of your clothes. “I’d really like that.” 

Kissing him on the forehead, you push his hair back to get a good look at him, “We’re doing dreamy summer vibes? Something soft?” 

“How’d you know that?”

“I don’t know” you shrug, “Maybe I’m just that good. You were also going super hard on the Taylor Swift so I kinda assumed. Just blasting. I didn’t know it was that real for you.” 

“Shut up” he laughs, squeezing you so tight you can’t breathe. 

“Okay, okay. I’m sorry!” you giggle, trying to get away. But he won’t let you. Instead he lays his head on your shoulder, willing to tolerate being a total mess for a bit longer if it means holding you. The way that things have been...it doesn’t have to be like that now.

And it never will be again.

#ateez x reader #ateez x gn reader #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa x gn reader #ateez fluff #seonghwa fluff #ateez angst #seonghwa angst

[tiyoin]

pt.4 | 📍pt.5

rewrote, edited and proofread chapter five cause I thought it was horseshit and you guys deserved more from me. 🫶

numb.

you tried to feel numb.

doing everything in your power to push down any kind of emotion that was ready to slip through your mask.

look ahead, stand tall, put one foot in front of the other so no one would know you were wearing a confidence coat that was 2 sizes too small.

don't breathe too loud they'll hear you.

don't step too loud they'll think about your weight.

don't blink too much they'll think you're fluttering your lashes at them.

don't tuck your chin in they'll think you're gross.

gross for what exactly? everything.

don't mess up the stepping pattern or else you'll look like a bumbling idiot as you try to get back on the rhythm.

don't clench your fists they'll think you're mad and unapproachable.

don't smile because you're not in front of a mirror where you can control how much you want to give away.

don't think too hard or else you'll become enraptured with your daydreams and you won't be able to take part in reality.

don't do anything with your lips or else some air will come in and create a sound that sounds similar to a fart. then they'll think you're extra gross.

all these rules you had to follow to 'be normal,' weren't an actual set of rules, but a lifestyle. you wouldn't get collared if you didn't do one of the rules, you wouldn't get yelled at or reprimanded.

you were okay. to your knowledge that is.

on the outside, you probably looked like you had a stick up your ass. always in a rush to get to where you needed to go. like one of those rolling backpack kids back in your world. whenever they would pass they'd take casualties with them. rolling over toes, pencils, teachers- there was nothing in their way they couldn't bulldoze through.

you were just missing the wheels and will of iron it took to be seen with such a… what’s the right word- atrocity, in public, let alone an all-boys school.

underneath the habits and self-induced numbness, past all the anxiety and fear there was a tickle. not an actual tickle, but a sudden feeling you couldn't identify. it wasn't rage or frustration. you weren't sad or envious... you think- it was something gentler than that.

something softer yet just as negative was infesting your heart and mind like a slow-acting poison. poisoning your thought process, your habits, your attitude, and your livelihood.

though the breeze and sunshine walking to class supplied your flesh with warm- there was a chill over your heart. the beams of warmth too short to reach into the many cracks and holes that were created. sometimes you thought there was a bug. a big, juicy parasitic bug that would suck away your hopes and feast on your memories. It had a sweet tooth that was for certain, only targeting happy memories as it kept you with the bad ones.

did you ever have happy memories?

there was nothing you could do about the pestering leech. it wouldn't go away with Kalim's warmth and silver's calm. two sides of the same coin.

but no matter how many times you flipped: heads or tails, heads or tails, heads or tails would never work.

yes, you would smile, you would laugh- put on a poor show to convince yourself and others that there was nothing wrong. Everything was okay deep down and inside your twisted little mind. 

sometimes, you weren't sure who exactly you were performing for. 

"why am I scared to laugh" you remembered asking yourself one night, putting down your jester's hat for the evening. 

looking in the dusty mirror, your eyes carefully roamed your face, ticking off imperfections as you scanned every feature, scrutinizing every fold, and every slight bump on your skin. saving the most obvious imperfection for last, you finally acknowledged the brewing red horn ready to grow on the side of your forehead.

you knew it was a normal thing that teenagers of all ages experienced. but you felt especially helpless now, with the lack of beauty supplies and makeup. but with a quick brush of your hair, the brewing red horn disappeared behind some tresses of hair.

"I look like a demon"

...

"though if it was on my nose, i'd look like rudolph"

there was no punchline. yet the observation- not even an original comparison, made you laugh. 

A tiny huff puffed from your chest. though the more you imagined yourself with deer ears and a bright lobster red nose, you could feel your thoracic region start to shake. trying to push the sixth sense of judgment the walls were giving you, you forced yourself to laugh. holding onto this artificial laugh as long as you could. you hadn't laughed in a while. hadn't smiled in a minute. you'd barely look at yourself in the mirror most days.

gripping onto the vanity you watched your eyes crinkle and smile stretch. tripping and stumbling over scattered objects in your room you were still clenching your stomach nonetheless.

you felt like a tumbling tornado. clumsily tripping over everything with no set destination or concern for the things in your path. a shoe got kicked up. a pen you remembered liking got stepped and rolled on. a book you read a few nights ago kicked to the door as you set your eyes on your bed. with a few more violent acts towards inanimate objects, you carried your shaking body to bed.

this was it. you were going insane, weren't you?

all you needed was a canvas and paints and you'd truly become insane.

flopping down unceremoniously you let it linger for a second. sighing in contentment as you stared up at the ceiling.

you loved laughing, it was fun! but you were afraid to laugh, to live. remembering Kalim's quote of 'Everything is fun when you make it fun,' you wanted to scoff at his naivety. but Kalim was right.

if you made things miserable for yourself that's how they'll be.

directing your mind back to your head, you blinked owlishly.

oh. you were so caught up in the daydream you forgot you were in the hallways.

peeking through bumping shoulders, you tried looking towards the wall to check the room number.

"shit"

making a giant u-turn with as many 'excuse me's' and 'pardon me's,' you rerouted yourself back to your class. never having walked this way to class you were a bit hesitant. what if you walked by it again? what if someone is watching you and making fun of you for being a daft idiot?

breathe.

but what if you're late for class? crewel will have your hide- skin? doesn't matter what it is cause it'll be his. what if they all laugh when we're late-

we're not late yet it's only-

but when we get to class we'll be late!

perking up when you noticed the assigned numbers to your class, you weaved through the chattering sardines and beelined it to class.

no bell. no expectant crewel. no eyes besides from the easy-to-ignore front row. perfect.

the sigh you were holding in finally set itself free as you adjusted the grip of your books, and you strolled down the isles.

don't walk too fast they'll think you're strange.

but also don't walk too slow so they don't think you're lazy.

head down absent-mindedly adjusting your books, you followed your hand's cue and put your attention on a fixed thing. aka: your books.

but to your relief, you soon found your seat. with a huff, you unloaded the cargo pulled out some loose-leaf paper, and started writing.

writing what? not even you knew. but it made you look busy and that was important.

you didn't lay around in bed all day. you didn't continuously scroll through your phone to distract yourself. you didn't cry at night looking at everyone's socials, wishing it was you having fun. envy bubbling like a nasty tar in your bloodstream as you scorned everyone for having fun when you're miserbale-

"y/n!'

"oow"

sliding in next to you was silver. hair disheveled and tie ever so crooked, though he still looked really good-

pervert a voice whispered. tensing, you looked around and saw no one paying attention to your little corner.

"I tried calling you in the hallway." his boyish smile eased a beat in your rhythmic heart, only for it to take 2 more beats.

"y-you did?" you gulped.

silver nodded as he organized his books. "Yeah, but it's so chaotic and loud I'm guessing you didn't hear me" you nodded in agreement, tongue slipping over itself as you tried conjuring up an excuse.

"I- uh I'm really sorry I didn't hear you. I didn't even know you were there! I was kinda worried about not being elbowed to death." you didn't know why you were chuckling at the end but it felt scene-appropriate. you weren't sure if you believed what you told silver despite it being the truth.

was he going to refute it? was he going to give you a once over and mentally think 'how dare they ignore me' because all the diasomnia students you'd interact with had that very haughty, entitled personality?

 but to your slight dissatisfaction, silver only nodded in understanding.

"I'm real-"

"There's no-"

you both started at the same time, sharing a shy smile at the pause.

"you can go ahead" he nodded. Waving your hands, you disagreed. "you were talking first, I'm sorry, go ahead"

even though you gave the green light, silver still heisted to go. giving the air another few seconds before he started talking.

"there is no need to ask for forgiveness. I understand if you couldn't hear me, I'm not the most vocal after all. if only sebek were here" he mulled the last part. wincing at the name, you wanted to pinch yourself for slipping up. damnit you showed that you didn't like a person he was friends with- he'll hate you now. you're screwed, you screwed yourself. don't you understand that he's probably planning on running to sebek as soon as you leave? then everyone in diasomnia is going to hate you-

you nodded, tiny little yellow sponges in white shirts and red ties ran around your brain as a fire roared throughout- wherever they were inside your head.

you tried to push the flood of incoming thoughts into a box, a big red crate with a crab lock to be exact. you were feeling antsy, looking for anything to focus on besides the silver-haired upperclassman in front of you. 

sometimes you wish you were a computer. unable to feel and to only run on logic. it seems easier that way.

a thought bubble popped into your brain like an internet pop-up ad. 

did they even have computers in twisted wonderland? duh of course they do, they have phones after all.

the thought of twisted wonderland's technology started to swarm and hijack your train of thought. effectively taking out the conductor and changing its course.

did they also have an Industrial Revolution like the United States had? what was the start of it? which kingdom had it first? was there something to set off the alleged revolution? How is it the same and how is it different from your world's?

did magic have allay in it? of course, it did. but how did magic make it different than-

"y/n"

snapping your head at the familiar voice. you looked to silver. only able to take in physical information as the new conductor saw a hole in the tracks, pulling the breaks almost immediately.

"you okay there?"

slowly you nodded, as a few members of the hijacking team jumped out of the train- some ideas and questions with it.

"yeah.. sorry about that, kinda got lost in my train of thought there"

nodding with understanding, silver started talking about how he would sometimes start nodding off when he was talking to someone. half paying attention, half trying to save the train- your brain was split in half as you took in all internal and external information.

until you heard the magic words everyone loves to hear: "what were you thinking ab-"

"The Industrial Revolution"

"... pardon?"

anddd you failed, the train fell into the deep deep gorge that the tracks would normally allow the said train to glide over... but alas! they were gone! blown to smithereens as it guided the train into the deep cavern. a big explosion followed soon after. 

"dont worry about it" you brushed him off. saved by the bell as Crewel stood up, riding crop in hand yelling out orders like a drill sergeant.

silver scooted closer. you scooted back, the original distance between you two doubling. you were focused on writing your name, date etc & etc, on another loose-leaf paper.

the dreamy-eyed second-year made some noises before he knew what he was going to say. he started softly "are you okay"? but then grew slightly louder as unease set in "from... last class? I mean I know yuu told me it was a touchy subject but... i just wanted to check in"

your pencil screeched to a halt as the words 'yuu told me-' chanted in your head. it was the only thing you could focus on because what did he mean 'yuu said-'. "what did yuu say." you spoke, voice stable for the first time that morning.

silver's tongue tied itself as he fixed his hair a bit. "well..." he straightened up slightly, "after you stormed... no, escape is a better word. after you escaped the classroom yuu followed before i could. but crewel ended up stopping me before i could even move. and i asked yuu what happened the next time i saw them and asked how you were doing.. to sum it up: they told me you get nervous around new people soo"

dread set over you like a fast-approaching shadow.

oh no. he thinks you're a weird socially inept loser doesn't he? he thinks you're some kind of loser that doesn't go out weekends, weekdays, any day for all that matter. he probably makes fun of you with sebek. right?

"ah well," you cleared your throat. a lie already on the tip of your tongue "I mean it's like- a yes and no kinda thing. I didn't have a lot of guy friends when I was younger so being thrust" you thrust your hands in emphasis "into an al guys school has been quite the adjustment."

quickly, your mind conjured up a painting of a small house in a meadow filled with wildflowers. it was the only thing you could see for miles. it was a nice house with a straw roof, a smoking brick chimney, and a little garden outback. the only problem with the house is that you blew it up.

 with nuclear missiles. 

and the intensity of the blast was so strong that it created a small crater in the earth, no traces of the house were left as it's entire existence was reduced to ash and rubble all because of you.

the urge to bash your head into the nearest wall like intruding hornets slipping through a crack in an attic to terrorize a small family. there goes your social life right?? what soil life? you killed it before you could even nurture it!

your mouth and mind were running on autopilot while your conscience went blank.

your mouth was a fountain that spewed water everywhere. trying to get yourself out of the hole you dug yourself- crater, more specifically.

"but uhhh yeah, no you're good! you're different and I'm quite glad I got partnered with you since you're not as..."

"boisterous?" silver quipped.

you nodded. silver chuckled, leaning further away from you. "yeah me too. if I got paired with one of your friends only the sevens know how much damage that'll do to my physical and mental well-being"

you both discreetly looked over at the rest of the class watching as all pairs seemed to be in some kind of chaos. whether it's floyd being impulsive, grim trying to add the wrong chemical into a potion. (you didn't even need to know what they were making to know that whatever he's trying to sneak in- doesn't belong there.)

and you were thanking whatever god the people of twisted wonderland worshipped that you weren't paired with one of the adeuce combo. ace would try to take control of the project, pretending he knew what he was doing while simultaneously giving you backhanded compliments on your intelligence. only to ruin the entire project and somehow find a way to blame you for it. 

meanwhile, deuce and you would be two peas in a squished pod: not knowing what you're supposed to be doing and ultimately winging it as you tried to match your hot barbie pink potion to crewel's muted blush potion. knowing the both of you, it would end up navy blue and when crewel went to fix it he would add a pinch of fleabane- a literal pinch, and it'd be fixed. embarrassing the both of you for all eternity.

"I wonder which group is gonna blow up the lab first mused quick to shut your lips, you were quick to wish for a sewing kit to forcefully shut you up.

but a small voice whispered 'it's better to take risks than stay comfortable.'

and silver seemed... nice.

silver looked out at the crowd for a moment longer, turning to you he started slowly, "while the yuu, grim, and ace trio seem to be the most obvious choice...." he thought carefully, "epel and deuce seem to be at a loss of what to do and are about 6 shade off. which surprised me since epel is in pomfiore"

"he's actually sh- really-" you started again, taking a moment to think over what you were going to say "I heard that epel's not that great at potions despite being under vil's careful watch...." silver's eyes widened, replying with a soft 'really?' as he looked back to the groups with newfound interest.

you to yourself "never judge a book by its cover" you shrugged, immediately turning to your work. anxiously, you waited for a response. 

although circumstances are vastly different- is this how people felt when in the talking stage? if so it was a dreadful experience. 

before your pessimistic thoughts could even start, silver responded with a chuckle, enviably agreeing with your statement. you could almost sweat with relief as an invisible weight got lifted from your shoulders.

silver seems nice...

a new voice, meek and unsteady although louder than the usual pessestimic ones in control. and for once, you allowed yourself to feel the slight comfortable tingle it gave you.

the hope and drive to that you haven't felt or experienced in a while.

you wished to get closer to him.

taglist : @abell2029cluster @a1-ic3 @ars-tral @xingyunny @creamsweets @skei2p @dn4su @jjsmeowthie @h0rr0r-10ver-69 @nefe-kav @d3sperate-enuf @y2unagiz @im-here-for-the-fun-of-it @mel-star636 @7yu @lucky-whispers

#twisted anxiety 🌀 #I was low-key ashamed with the last chapter ngl despite all your comments. I hope this makes up for it 🫶 #twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #tiyoin 🔎 #azul x reader #silver x reader #malleus x reader #idia x reader #vil x reader #leona x reader

[sparring-spirals]

Listen. Smartypants Society? Fuck yeah. I'm going to come clean and admit that I am one of those people that kind of enjoys public speaking/ presentations, and in turn loves seeing people who are Good At Public Speaking/Presentations and enjoy it do their thing. Tricks of timing and emphatic delivery and precise rhetoric and structured argument construction all delivered with charisma dialed up to x100000% is just. 👌

Like, you can make anything sound legit with the right tricks, and in theory I find it SO enjoyable seeing it happen!!! Unfortunately in the context of the Real World this is often seen in contexts that tend to range from Impressive but Sobering or just Literally The Most Frustrating Shit because hey you're talking awful hurtful absolute bullshit but saying it The Right Way, Im Going To Lose it.

So. Therefore........ Smartypants Society generates a deep joy in my soul. Deeply talented speakers/comedians with phenomenal stage presence and quick wit, to use their command over delivery and rhetoric and comedic timing to dissect and break down the most nonsensical things ever? Meticulous argument construction and empassioned delivery about absolute, ridiculous, zero stakes bullshit?? Fuck yeah. Its like seeing someone with expert culinary training and a professionally equipped kitchen make the most 3AM drunk food meal with intentional precision. Tell me why vegetables arent real. Break down who's invited to the cookout. What IS the happiest birthday. Make me believe you. :')

#i love people being really good at what they do. and i love well articulated arguments on absolute low stakes bullshit. <3 #dropout #smartypants society #dropout tv #not cr #:] #spar speaks #some excellent clips and screenshots available #realizing i never finished my post about it but i love adventuring academy contested roll for the same reason #.........ok fine i lied. i dont kind of like presentations. i rlly like em.

[alottiegoingon]

love letters

shauna shipman x fem!reader

summary: the one where reader receives love letters from jeff

warnings: jeff mentioned for plot reasons, jealousy mentions, homoerotic friendship?, shauna is reader's best friend, no crash timeline, fluff but angsty ending, not proofread

this may have a part II in the future?

you thought it was weird when the first thing you saw as soon as you opened your locker was a letter. you weren't exactly the most popular girl ever but you weren't a loner. you were right in the middle.

you blinked rapidly, eyes darting back and forth to the envelope of the size of your hand and to the completely empty hallway. you were the only one in there. judging by the outside, it couldn't be a warning from school or from the book club you went to. it also didn't make sense to be someone bullying you, it was too neat.

you withdrew the paper nestled inside and carefully unfolded it. it wasnt anything professional, just words meticulously written on a notebook paper. you peer through narrowed eyes, attempting to recognize the handwriting but it wasn't like you knew everyone at school so intimately to know how they wrote.

in the small piece of paper, the words "you're always pretty but today you look as stunning and vibrant as a daisy in spring. love, jeff." are written in a sleek, rounded calligraphy, each letter carefully crafted with black pen ink. you feel your heart skip a beat as you read the name signed on the bottom, not believeing your own eyes. coincidentally or not, daisies were your favorite flowers and you couldn't stop thinking about how he knew that.

jeffrey sadecki was one of the popular boys in wiskayok high. almost every girl wanted to be with him while the boys wanted to be him. you weren't one of those girls, though. you despised how all of them would humiliate themselves and change their appearance or lie about their favorite movies or bands just to get attention from the boys. nothing too girly or the boys would laugh about it but nothing too bold or you wouldn't be delicate enough.

one detail caught your attention and brought you back to reality as you were overthinking a simple letter. the way jeff had signed his name was different from the rest of the words. more angular and noticeably larger. maybe he was in a hurry or too nervous, it didn't matter. the important thing now was to tell shauna, your best friend. you slammed the locker door and hid the letter on your pocket, rushing to the wiskayok high soccer field to let her know everything.

now, in terms of knowing someone closely, shauna was at the top of your list. shauna shipman was your best friend since you were in middle school as two twelve years old with awkward music taste, bad haircuts and an embarassing fashion sense. after school, you and shauna would spend hours locked inside your bedroom talking about your celebrity crushes, make fun of the boys after their unsuccessful try to make a move on the popular girl, and devouring an entire carton of bubblegum ice cream, that shauna would always bring to you, while watching movies. shauna wasn't a huge fan of it. it was way too sweet. but it was your favorite after all.

"i think you should pick the flavor next time." you randomly spoke while the two of you were sharing a bed and watching grease from 1978.

your leg was resting against shauna's, the back of your leg gently positioned on top of her knee. it first started as a way to annoy her when you were around fifteen but then it just became a casual thing. shauna would look all tense with a tight face until she felt your warmth.

"why? it's your favorite." shauna's entire face twists in confusion. her eyes immediately fly at you but you were focused on the small tv. inside her mind, in her own little world, nothing was more important than your sudden hate towards ice cream.

"it's too childish. i don't think any other girl on her last year would pick bubblegum ice cream as her favorite." you groan, frustrated.

"that's so stupid, it's just a flavor. and, you know, i think it matches you."

her words made you curious enough to shift your attention away from one of your favorite movies. she seemed to understand your fogginess and explained herself before you could say a word.

"i mean, it's fun and colorful and free of any judgments. it is also the favorite of a lot of kids and kids are way too honest to lie about something. so if they like it, it's because it's really good.. it's unique, i think."

"wow, shauna..." you subtly nod your head in agreement, feeling touched by her words. "you can really compliment an ice cream flavour that much? "you smile as you tease her.

"just shut up and eat your ice cream. you're so annoying."

now, in senior year, pretty much nothing had changed. you would still spend the afternoons after practice with shauna as well as the weekends. shauna was also really smart and would eventually help you with math, literature or english during finals. she was pretty good at it but it didn't surprise you at all; she was always carrying a book around or that super secret journal that you swore she would write on after you fell asleep during sleepovers.

"jeff? wow... are you sure?" shauna immediately looked away from you and made herself busy, forcing her uniform into her bag, at the second she heard his name. shauna wasn't exactly very fond of him as well but she never sounded so lifeless.

"yeah, he signed his name! i guess it could be one of his friends messing around with me but the handwriting is way too pretty for someone who did it as a joke." you sigh. "and he also mentioned a daisy in the letter. that's my favorite flower, shauna!"

shauna was avoiding your eyes at all costs but, for a split second, you saw her eyebrows knit.

"wait, so you're happy with that? i thought you didn't like him." shauna sounds unbothered but you notice how she rub her hands together to brush the sweat off or how she was incessantly adjusting her shirt.

"i don't. boys are stupid." you give her a determined nod to dispel the thought away. "it's just... it feels nice to know that someone cares about me. we've never had a conversation before but somehow he knows about my favorite flower so, i mean..." your voice trails off.

you never thought of yourself as someone who was excited to date boys. the idea of going out on a friday night with a guy never made you burst with joy. you'd rather spend the night with your best friend and have your typical sleepovers or going out for movies. even watching shauna write on her out of reach journal in silence was more interesting. despite shopping together when needed, playing around with clothes by putting them on and running a fashion show, dressing up for a boy and putting makeup on wasn't your thing, whatsoever. it wasn't fun cause shauna wouldn't be there to make you laugh or roll her eyes to hide how her eyes would affectionately get lost on your figure. "i guess he must be really interested on you, then. right?" shauna looks at you for the first time that afternoon but she looks different than usual, offering a strained smile.

[💌]

the next days slipped away from your hands in a blink of an eye. surprisingly, jeff wasn't actually that bad or at least he tried to be a normal nice guy around you.

you remembered how he was actually nervous when you two exchanged a few words and he made sure to let you know that he was responsible for the letter when he asked if you had liked it with a huge cocky smile. at first, you couldn't care less, he was trying too hard. but then the letters kept coming and you finally accepted to go on a date with him.

you went out for the movies and when you felt him pulling that classic move on you by sliding his arm on top of your shoulders, you had to fight against a giggle. shauna would love to laugh at that with you later. then, you stopped by your favorite place; a small family-run dinner that had a great milkshake of your favorite flavour.

"you don't think it's way too childish to be someone's favorite?" you hear jeff's voice fill your ears while you were focused on getting the last drop of the ice cream. you look up at him with a baffled look, not paying attention to whatever he had just said.

"the ice cream. i never dated someone who liked bubblegum."

"oh. yeah..." you feel heat rise to your cheeks and out of nowhere, you began to trip over your words. "it's not my favorite. it's stupid. i was... just trying something different!"

the days turned to weeks and the weeks became months. just like that, you were walking through the hallways of wiskayok high with jeff's arm over your shoulder. you weren't sure if you liked being seen as his property or something silly like that, but a lot of girls would die to be in your place.

you weren't sure if you actually liked him. the most excited part of your date nights was to eat for free and memorize all the idiotic things he had said to gossip about it with shauna later. besides, you could rarely pick the movie or talk about your day. the name "randy walsh" was stuck on your brain thanks to how often jeff would mention him and his funny stories that would actually make you sleepy.

but, again, maybe you just had to try harder.

the letters kept coming almost everyday. and if not everyday, then at least once a week. somehow, always pretty and perfectly rounded letters with his sloppy signed name on the bottom.

[💌]

"i can't wait to read it! people are saying that it's sad but i think it's gonna be great." you were telling shauna about the new stephen king's book that had came out that week; the green mile.

"i think sad is good. people underestimate how great tragedy can be." she casually mumbles, grabbing the carton of ice cream from your desk that you would share before walking to you.

you were about to agree with her when her words cut you at the moment her eyes met the packaging.

"what's that?" she said with a deflated tone.

"ice cream?" you chuckle at her obvious question. usually she would tease you back or give you a snort. but now she decided to ignore your lighthearted words.

"no, i mean the flavor. since when do you like vanilla?" she reads the words vanilla over and over again before looking up at you.

"oh, yeah. i changed. i'm too old for bubblegum now."

"how?"

"just eat it, alright? jeff said vanilla is too boring but i think it's better than being a kid flavor, right?" you giggle, oblivious to her clear annoyance.

shauna's hands close into fists as soon as she practically smashed the carton against the desk. the loud noise made you look at her almost instantly with widen eyes.

"are you okay?" your voice sounded so low-pitched and whispered that shauna almost couldn't hear it.

"are you? we used to laugh about stupid boys and now you are suddenly changing yourself because of jeff? he barely knows how to spell the world embarrass." you notice her voice slowly getting louder.

"this is insane. it's just ice cream, shauna! you are just jealous cause he writes pretty letters for me while you stay home to your pathetic journal." you feel your blood boil as she accuses you of changing because of a fucking boy. you would never.

shauna doesn't say a word and the silence made you realize that, deep down, she was right. her eyes are staring past your soul as she feels your words hit her and it made you regret them after a second.

"i didn't mean tha-" you tried to apologize but she was faster.

"no, you know what? you're right. i spend my friday nights with my pathetic journal but at least i don't pretend to be someone i'm not just to make a boy like me." she takes a step closer and this time her voice is low and tamed. "at least i'm not weak and don't attach myself to the first person who offers just a hint of interest on me cause i'm desperate for attention."

her sharp words sink in, eating you from the inside out. she doesn't seem sorry and you don't feel bad anymore. you feel your jaw clenching and tears were welling up on your eyes while you stand up from your bed, face to face with your best friend.

"fuck you." you struggled to speak through the lump in your throat.

the room got quiet and the sorrow was almost palpable. shauna's pupils were teary, fully dilated and unusually darker, regarded with disappointment. she didn't say a word before leaving your room and shutting the door behind her.

you couldn’t think of anything while collapsing into your bed, sobbing against the pillow, other than how badly you hated vanilla ice cream.

[💌]

barely able to sleep last night, you were distracted by shauna’s words and the fact that this was the first serious fight that you two had ever shared. shauna didn’t talk much about her feelings and would let everything merge together until she was bursting out with anger or a bunch of passive aggressive comments but she was never too harsh on you.

you knew you had to apologize and fix things with her. even though her words weren’t exactly the kindest, she was just worried about you, you thought. you wondered if she liked jeff in secret and was jealous of him even if she had never mentioned him before.

you weren’t sure if she had feelings for jeff but you weren’t sure if you did. he could be a jerk sometimes and definitely too self centered but he made you feel important. he liked you enough to know your favorite food, even though he called it childish, and your favorite movies, that he thought it were too weird for a girl, and your favorite books, that he mentioned how boring they were.

yes, he was decent and overall, compared to the others, he was a nice person. but then, as you were in the bathroom getting ready this morning, you remembered that he wasn’t the first person to ever care

you remembered when shauna showed up at your door once at 3am when you couldn’t sleep, way too worried about finals, with your favorite treats and a book of hers that reminded her of you. or when she spent an entire month learning how to draw daisies because you loved them and she wanted to give you a special handmade gift. a week later, your room was filled with drawings of different sizes of your favorite flower. there was even a small piece taped to the wall of your bathroom right next to the mirror.

then, it occurred to you that, once while watching romeo and juliet late at night, you mentioned how much you loved romantic gestures like receiving letters from the person you loved and shauna mocked you but then, two weeks later, you received one. it was a weird coincidence but it was there, right in front of your eyes.

you were feeling like complete shit when you stopped by your locker, already regretting leaving your bed this morning. you flinch as you see jeff magically appearing behind the small metal door with a huge creepy smile and a small bag in hands.

“i got something for you.” were the words he said before handing you the content from inside the paper bag. you weren’t expecting anything and definitely not after the shitty night you had. you were determined to break up with him but the idea of it vanished as you took a first glance at what your new gift was.

the new stephen king’s book, the green mile, right under your nose. your jaw was almost hitting the floor thanks to the beautiful cover.

“jeff… this is amazing! i’ve been wanting to read this since last week and i couldn’t find it anywhere. thank you!” you had to force your words out, too stunned to speak properly. looking away from the book, you saw how he looked genuinely happy with your reaction.

“it was nothing. i just like paying attention to my girl.” you ignored the smug tone and focused on the book.

jeff didn’t wait any longer for you to finish your appreciation moment and pulled in for a kiss, tightly holding onto your waist. he hugged you right after and while you were resting your head on his shoulder, he was looking at shauna right behind you two.

greeting her from a distance with a satisfied and arrogant grin was his way of saying thank you. shauna resentfully nodded and ignored the feeling of drowning in her own emotions as she watched you leave with his arm around your waist.

quickly, she placed the receipt from the bookstore in her backpack along with her notebook and favorite writing pen before disappearing into the crowded hallway.

#yellowjackets #yellowjackets x reader #shauna shipman x reader

[animeyanderelover]

Could you write “Close your eyes so it’ll hurt less. for Satoru Gojoı with non-sorcerer reader.

It can be nsfw or punishment scenario <3

thanks in advance!

Tw: Yandere themes, toxic relationship, possessive behavior, obsession, delusional behavior, overprotective behavior, manipulation, clinginess, isolation, abduction, paranoia, Satoru breaks s/o's wrist

Words: 3.1 k

Prompt 192

'Beauty is deceiving. It hides who the true monster is.'

You couldn't quite recall when and where you had stumbled upon this phrase, if it had been spoken by someone or if you had read it in a book. Most likely because you had never given this analysis much thought when you had received it for the first time. In hindsight, you should have probably given those two sentences much more thought. Perhaps, but only perhaps, then you wouldn't have fallen so easily prey to a man whose powers and appearance resembled old folklore of ancient and powerful gods.

Satoru indeed, as you had learned the longer you had been with him, thought of himself as someone blessed and special. If anyone else would have said those words to you, you would have thought of them as delusional. Yet when Gojo Satoru said those words, they were no mere gloating fantasies. Instead those words were reality, a reality you had been exposed to ever since you had gotten involved with him.

A reality that frightened you and one that you still couldn't comprehend. Worst of all seemed to be that Satoru refused to expose his world to you. You had only pieces of the puzzle, an unfinished picture of the whole situation that left you with a strange mixture of fear and agitation.

"Even if I were to tell you, you wouldn't be able to do anything. I would only scare you unnecessarily."

Partially he had spoken the truth and you knew that. You wouldn't be able to do anything against whatever it was that his world held in store for you. Yet Satoru was mislead in his assumption that keeping the truth from you would spare you from unnecessary stress. It only amplified it as the fear of not knowing had become a familiar chain that restricted your mind. You had started viewing your surroundings with more caution and wariness, unaware what it was you had to look out for but on edge nevertheless. A feeling of constant alert had overcome you whenever you were conscious, one that had cost you.

No longer felt you able to relax or take joy in the simple things. What you didn't know was constantly on your mind, the nagging fear a festering tumor that spread inside your mind the more time you were forced to spend with him.

His constant presence did not do anything to soothe your growing anxiousness. On the contrary, it fueled those feelings inside of your chest only more. It was unclear to you whether he was oblivious to this fact or if he chose to ignore it and if you had to be truthful, you did not know which was worse.

There was only one thing he often felt the urgent need to remind you of.

That he was the good guy.

---

Your hold on the book tightened, your heart clenching in rapidly growing frustration as you tried your best to blend Satoru's presence out of your mind and focus.

"Don't ignore me, (y/n)!" He whined and his voice, one you used to perceive as a pleasant and delightful sound, made you cringe the same way the sound of nails against a chalkboard would have done. It was borderline agonising and you just wanted it to stop. Your jaw clenched, your head pounding as the anger piled on yet you tried to push everything down as you didn't want to lose your composure and, accompanying your composure, the grasp of control over your own emotions.

When you felt soft lips traveling down from your temple to your neck, you shut the book loudly before you stood abruptly up. Your fists were balled to fists as the pounding in your head seemed to intensify. You felt the urge to scream, to cry or to let your feelings vent out in any other way but you knew that you couldn't do that in front of him. Your feet stomped away from the scene in an attempt to get away from him. When you noticed that he stood up and followed you, you had to bite your tongue in your best attempt to not yell at him.

"Am I not even allowed to go to the bathroom alone?" You growled at him before locking the door to the only room where you could have at least a few minutes for yourself. You scowled at the hurt pout he gave you before his face disappeared from your sight. In the very same moment you locked the door, separating you from Satoru, it felt like someone had unlocked your ability to breathe properly again. The air tasted fresher and your chest felt lighter now that you were away from his smothering presence.

You drew water from the tap and splashed the cold liquid against your face in an attempt to soothe the burning pounding that had tormented you for the entire day already. You took those moments to let the silence and appreciated loneliness sink in, your face still buried in your head as you made no attempt to remove it from them.

As much as you would have wanted to stay like this for a while longer, you knew that you only had so much time before Satoru would grow impatient. You'd rather destroy this moment of peace due to your own will rather than to be thrown out of this tranquility by his own actions.

You turned the tap off and dried your face with the towel before you unlocked the door and turned the knob, expecting to hear his voice immediately calling for you or to even see him standing there.

Instead you heard his hushed voice from the living room and although you couldn't clearly hear all of his words, it sounded like he was talking to someone. For a split second you debated whether or not to use this chance to return to the bathroom or go somewhere else. On the other hand you knew too well that he would demand for you as soon as he was finished with this conversation so instead you opted to just head back to the living room as well.

When you peaked inside through the opened door, you could see that he was having a phone call with someone. Brilliant blue eyes darted up as soon as they saw you and a smile graced his lips for a few moments. You could clearly hear how his voice turned to a mere murmur as he suddenly turned his back on you and you knew instantly that the call must have been related to his job which is why he didn't want you to hear what he was hearing. You felt your curiosity urging you to step closer, so close that you would understand everything no matter how silent he might try to talk.

From previous experiences you knew that if you were to try that though, he would end the call instantly and merely tell the other person on the line to text him all the information before hanging up. So you just stood there and waited, feeling the frustration bubble up inside of you again.

As soon as he had ended the call, he turned around to you. A silly pout was on his face as he walked over to you before a dramatic sigh escaped him.

"Seems like I have to head out for a while. Something just came up."

Obviously he was clearly unhappy, you on the other mind felt like your soul was rejuvenating with the mere thought of having a few hours to yourself. Like everything else though, you also were smart enough to not gloat about those news so you gave him a curtly nod as your only response.

Large hands cradled your face as blue eyes looked at you.

"I'll be back as soon as possible. Just wait for me in the meantime, 'kay?"

You didn't return the kiss when you felt warm lips meeting your own but you also knew that with his grip on your face, you couldn't pull away so you just endured the feeling as your body visibly tensed up. Only when you pulled away did you dare to unclench your jaw again, your lips slightly parted as you looked into those otherwordly eyes.

"Maybe I'll buy you something nice if I find something." He continued to speak as he pressed quick kisses against your face as if quickly tanking some affection before he had to leave.

"Would you like something specific."

You merely shook your head.

"Just surprise me."

Really, you couldn't have cared less.

---

Satoru had returned far too quickly for your own taste. On the other hand he might as well have been gone for weeks and you would still bemourn his absence as too short.

With him he had brought bags full with clothes he had bought for you, in high moods as he had asked you to wear some of them so he could see if they would look as good on you as he had hoped them to be when he had wasted his money on them.

In an attempt to delay this event and prevent him from getting handsy, you had insisted on cutting off all the price tags first as you had assured him that you would like to keep everything that he had brought.

So now here you were, searching for the price tags on every piece of clothing before cutting it off with scissors. It was a lot of work but less because it took much physical exertion and more because of the sheer amount the white-haired man had bought.

Really, you could have enjoyed this task though as it was rather nice to do something.

So why couldn't he have just sat back and remained silent instead of touching you and talking to you? You just wanted some time for yourself.

You knew that he was trying to get you to talk to him by annoying you with questions and touches as he simply longed to hear your voice and to force you to interact with him. This was precisely what you didn't want and so you had to silently chant a mandra to calm your nerves as you hung up all the clothes in the wardrobe. You were surprised that you even had any space left considering that you had so many clothes already.

It was tedious to ignore him but you were normally somehow able to pull through with it. However, on this evening Satoru seemed to have finally enough of your dismissive attitude which was why he exactly spoke something that he knew would get your attention.

"I met your friends whilst I was shopping."

You froze, unable to control your reaction as you heard his words. A strange flood of emotions came over you and you caught yourself swallowing audibly as you tried to maintain some sort of control. You had already failed though and you knew that Satoru would try to use it to his advantage.

You wanted to ask him more but you knew that you couldn't as it was exactly what he wanted you to do so with slightly shaky hands you tried to focus on the task at hand.

Obviously he wouldn't drop the subject that easily though.

You felt his warm breath fawning the side of your face as he leaned closer to you, his eyes taking in the way you had pursed your lips and how you had furrowed your eyebrows as you weren't able to hide your feelings. You were missing your friends and family after all and the bastard knew it.

His own feelings rose up as he saw your face but not because he felt pity for you. Instead he felt his jealousy stirring slowly awake as he saw how affected you appeared by merely hearing him mentioning one of your friends. He envied the feelings you reserved only for them without giving him anything at all.

Why was that?

"Satoru..."

Your voice resembled more of a guttural growl when one of his hands grabbed your shoulders, clearly feeling how tensed your muscles were as you slowly cut off more price tags from pieces of clothing, your mind barely held together as you were trying in a last effort to hold back.

His name was spoken as a warning from your side as he knew that you were at your limit and that only from hearing from him about one of your friends. If he would have been a better man, he would have acknowledged how petty and low he was acting right now. However, Gojo Satoru wasn't a good man as jealousy started getting a hold of him.

"They all seemed to have quite a good time without you. It didn't really look like they were bemourning your disappearance. Perhaps you are the only one in the belief that they are missing you as much as you miss them."

You paused for seconds that seemed to stretch more than they should have before you put the shirt you had held in your hand down. Your head turned around as your own eyes met his blue ones. You didn't say anything at first, there wasn't even a trace of anger on your face as if you couldn't believe his words.

Then your pupils started quivering though and he saw how your gaze suddenly got poisoned with anger you had kept buried deep inside of you for the last few weeks.

You acted before you could even think as the one hand that had previously held the scissors suddenly flew towards him, fully committed to stab at least one of those cured blue eyes so that his gaze could never torment you again.

Only that the scissor never reached his eye. No matter what you tried, you couldn't move your hand any further, the sharp edge of the scissor only lingering close to his blue orbs.

It was that inability that caused you to snap out of your spiraling anger as you realised what you had just tried to do. You instantly withdrew your hand, visible shock on your face from your unexpected outburst. You felt your blood pumping through your veins and felt shame and frustration heating up your entire face as you had just lost your temper completely.

You ran your other hand through your hair as you took some shaky breaths to regain your control. When you finally managed to look up again, an apology lingering on your tongue for your reckless action that could have seriously wounded him, you found the words quickly dying down before they could even leave your mouth.

Normally already quite intense blue eyes were staring through you and your soul with a new weight to them that had you breaking out in cold sweat as you felt a cold sensation going down your spine.

You felt no relief when briefly his eyes darted down to look at your other hand which was still clutching the scissors on your palm, although you quickly dropped the object when you noticed his stare.

You flinched when one of his palms wrapped around your wrist and lifted your hand up. At first his touch was soft but within only a few seconds he tightened his hold until it felt like he was squeezing your bones.

You let out a short hiss when you felt the pain as you started squirming uncomfortably, trying to get him to let go of your wrist.

"You were about to stab me."

You shuddered when you heard the icy tone that seemingly matched his hardened and cold stare that he gave you right now, vastly different from what you were used.

You wanted to defend yourself. He had taunted you first and he had been the one who had brought you into such a situation were you would lose your self-control in the first place as you hadn't consciously intended to potentially hurt him seriously.

Yet he didn't let you utter even a single word as he pulled you closer to his body, his other hand gripping your chin and forcing you to look right into those glowing eyes.

"You wouldn't hurt me, right? You care about me after all, even if you don't want to show it."

There was something in his tone that gave you the chills. It wasn't anger or anything similar to that emotion though. It was a tremble, a barely audible tremble of an emotion akin to denial that made him look dangerously much like he was about to break down in front of you. Whatever you had just done, it seemed to have triggered something dangerous inside of him.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to do that. I just lost control of myself for a moment."

You swallowed as you uttered those words quickly, your honest tone only slightly tarnished by the pain you felt as he was still squeezing your wrist. You found your own breath stopping as you looked at his face, praying for whatever had possessed him to stop.

"I knew. You wouldn't want to harm me. It's alright, darling. I forgive you."

You felt no relief when he cooed those words at you as he pulled you closer, giving you a kiss on your forehead. Instead you foud your stomach churning as you felt the stress rising inside of you, warning you that something was about to happen.

"Close your eyes so it'll hurt less."

You knew what he had done when you heard the sound yet you didn't instantly feel the pain. Instead your widened eyes stared into his own blue ones with a mixture of shock and betrayal.

You stumbled back in shock, cradling your broken wrist against your chest as the pulsing and cutting pain finally began to settle in. Tears instantly started to gather in your eyes and cascaded down your cheeks and choked sobs started leaving your lips as you slid down to the ground.

"I know. I know. It must hurt quite a bit."

His voice was sweet and soothing as his arms embraced you, one of his hands wiping away your tears as you continued staring at him with unbridled shock and terror as you felt soft touches on your face from the same hand that had just moments ago broken your wrist as if it was a mere twig.

The fear grew and grew until you felt unable to look into his eyes again, turning your eyes elsewhere as your lips started to wobble.

He had never hurt you before. Perhaps that's why you had felt so entitled to ignore him as he had been only ever acted like a clingy and whiny man around you.

Clearly you had been wrong though.

#yandere jujutsu kaisen #yandere jjk #yandere gojo #yandere gojo satoru

[redrum-alice]

Some HCs about the FreaKey couple even though I dont play the game...please dont kill me for this lolololol...

A.B.A gets jealous of other couples (she stalked them in public spaces from afar) who are more lovey dovey than her and Paracelsus. So to "spice" things up, she reads dating and romance tips on a (stolen) teen magazine that suggests those shoddy dating ideas and boasting to others that they're the end game (Paracelsus and others feels awkward as she says this).

After their arcade mode story, Paracelsus begins to feel guilt about having to manipulate A.B.A to wield him as a blood thirsty weapon. He knew A.B.A doesn't have hate in her heart, and saw how loving she actually is without her possessive traits. One example is when she polishes his brass parts after battle. She also tries to prop him in a comfortable position when at rest because she feels bad that he isnt mobile like she is.

Paracelsus admits, although not in a romantic way (sadly), that A.B.A is beautiful in her own way despite the uncanny nature of her origin. He says this in the most vague and bleakest way possible, yet A.B.A hyperventilated when she hears this.

Because of Paracelsus' statement on her beauty, she doesn't mind not fitting in with humans because his encouragement is all what she needed.

Let's say that A.B.A is considered attractive in their universe, minus the eye bags and the unkempt look- if someone ever compliments her in the slightest (grim extent is someone cat calls her) by a stranger, she would feel like she betrayed her husband for catching someone's eye. Mixture of frustration, shame, timidness, and anger would flow into her that she ultimately resorts to violence as a solution to the incomprehensible feeling. Paracelsus on the other hand would probs feel disgusted at the stranger's rude behavior, justifying his wife's violent outburst (ah yes, toxicity)

If another girl/woman compliments her though, she would be confused and scared as to why they would do such and not go after her husband. Because of her timid nature, she isn't used to hear positive things from others up until Elphelt (lol)

A.B.A's favorite color is blue, probs because she read somewhere or thought it's the calmest color. Blue in nature (partaining to animals) is usually rare, so it could also signify that she's drawn to things that are unique. (Or I could be wrong. I'm probably am--)

Speaking of the color blue, A.B.A attempted to dye her hair blue, but because of her vivacious red hair before, it resulted into greenish color (I know some fans theorize that her hair oxidized bc of her unusual body composition, but I wanna lean on the fact that she tries to fit in the outside world).

Paracelsus inspired her into liking color blue when he was talking about his past travels (at the risk of making A.B.A envy his previou's wielders ofc)

A.B.A was born with impeccable knowledge, thus explains why she speaks in such an authoritative manner. However since she lived in isolation for the first 10 years of her life, she does not know how humans speak in modern day. Paracelsus told her stories and spoke about philosophies only demons have access to.

Regarding small humans (as A.B.A likes to call the children), she wondered what it was like to grow up from a helpless being to a capable one, often lamenting that she hadn't had a literal childhood like a normal being. To cheer her up, Paracelsus suggested that their next date is at the park where there are swings and see-saws. Up to you how that's gonna work out lol

P.S., pls be gentle with me, Im new to the fandom and ship--

#aba x paracelsus #aba & paracelsus #aba guilty gear #a.b.a x paracelsus #paracelsus #guilty gear strive #aba and paracelsus headcanons #ao3 fanfic #headcanons #rare non-timebomb post lol

[tulipps-maehem]

TW- reader is former Slave, Eustass is an ass. Not much for this one but there will be explicit content going forward. Eustass x Skypian!Reader x Killer NOT PROOFREAD fuck it we ball

A looming smell of damp wood washed over your senses, the smell no longer pleasant as the petrichor of rain back home.

this scent was dank and salty, almost sickening as the smell of dried blood on your clothing.

your head was fuzzy and wrists heavy from the broken shackles that adorned them, bruises and cuts ached throughout your body. You had snuck onto the most intimidating ship that wasn’t the marines nor a slaver and were currently in the hull of said vessel.

the events of Sabaody were still clear in your mind. Gunshot. Punch. Pirates, one crew that you recognized as the man who saved your village Meer months ago along with the warlord and the man in the fur and his masked friend. Their names the only clear ones in your mind Captain Eustass Kid and his little blonde friend Killer.

they had seemed most likely to survive, most were dressed in leather and bold colors and furs.. something you gawked at when you had seen a few of them in the crowd of the auction that had been taking place. unfortunately you had been one of the few who hadn’t received the curtesy of getting your shackles taken off or cut, so you had used some guys attack to cut the chain. It worked then but now as you attempted to move all you could hear was the clank of the metal.

‘well shit, i didn’t wanna fucking try but… some of the others dislocated their thumbs to get out so maybe.. I can try?’

you sighed then steadied your breath, wincing as you pressed until a soft pop was heard. it didn’t hurt to bad as you slid you hand out of the heap of metal. After you’d popped your thumb back in you did the other hand.

you rubbed the metal rash on your wrists to soothe the ache, it’d been a month or so since the blonde hyena like bastard had stolen you away from your home leaving a trail of fire and death in his wake. The tattoo etched into your back will never let you forget the horrors that man did. You were going to find him and rain fire from the sky and watch him burn.

The thunks of footsteps snapped you out of your daydreams, you assumed you were in the hull of the ship. You stood, very quietly made your way over to where the crates were stacked. An idea coming to your mind…

it had been a week or so after fleeing Sabaody and the Kid Pirates were set out for the new world, but the last week had been hell. A few had been wounded, and Kidd had been in a constant state of paranoia leaving his poor partner more stressed then ever.

Just this morning Killer had chewed Kidd out for eating the rest of the spaghetti he had made last night. In retaliation to these events the Captain had Locked himself inside his workshop for the day.

He had been in there for a while now tinkering away at something as an apology for Killer even though ‘he didn’t do shit’. Suddenly Eustass groaned in frustration, whipping his head around and throwing a dagger into the wall of his workshop.

although.. this time a small squeak came fourth and red slowly stained the wall in a small patch

“I gotcha now little mouse come on out now eh?”

he chuckled low as he stalked towards the wall almost silently before smirking devilishly and in a see less moment connected his fist with the wall next to the patch.

Alas, it was only a rat. He huffed and turned to the kitten asleep bin the porthole shelf he made her

“Gizmo, the fuck ya doin if it’s not catchin the bleedin rats ya Eeijit!”

he lectured the kitten while holding its scruff at face height. She mewed at him in return to which he chuckled and shifted to hold her as if she were a newborn child . Smiling at the way she nibbled his fingers and batted at his arm.

that damn shuffling sound was back again. But this time he sighed and brushed it off as more rats before going to alert killer of the problem. The tortie kitten. But the strange thing was he could hear the vibrations of small metal pieces, maybe he was just getting paranoid? No one could be on his ship without him knowing right? The rat probably just swallowed one of the girls earrings or other piercings..

as you heard Footsteps wander away you let out a sigh of relief, frowning at the hole next to your face. This was the 5th time you’d almost gotten pulverized by the hands of Eustass Kid. To be fair, he didn’t exactly mean to.. but you just had to wait a few more days until they docked then you could escape.

you felt bad in all honesty, your presence seemed to have been messing with the crew. The crew mates whisper ghost stories to each other, some being paranoid others finding it childish. But the captain was the big problem, he heard something and what does the big bastard do? He chucks a knife- or better yet punches the source of the sound.

the crews been noticing the missing food as well, but it always made you giggle seeing the blonde- “Killer” you remembered, accusing his captain of stealing the leftovers

you actually had yourself a decent spot on the ship, you’d wiggled your way into a tiny space under the kitchen that went up to behind the pantry, and some other parts of the ship. But in the larger area closest to the bottom of the hull you even had a small straw bed. (Why they had straw you had no idea in the slightest)

Currently you were watching the crew tell stories around a fire from the peephole in the pantry one of the rookies you’d noticed looked li’e they were about three minutes from shitting their pants hearing about the torture that Eustass Kid would subject on his victims.

you on the other hand found his tales fascinating, you had no idea people with such similar ideals of freedom to your own people had lived in the blue seas

you smiled to yourself as you watched them, until the growl of your stomach pulled you out of your trance. You saw some apples on the shelf across from the punch-made peephole and quickly stuck your arm through. you couldn’t see so you had your head pressed to the wall trying to hear but the rhythmic thump of your quickening up was making that quite difficult.

You felt around until your hand landed on something soft, fabric like almost, but still firm. It took a moment until you felt the same rhythmic thumps.. of a heart beat..and an unfamiliar voice spoke out with venom.

“what. the. fuck.”

#one piece #eustass kid #kid pirates #massacre soldier killer #killer one piece #eustass kid x reader #eustasscaptainkid #eustass captain kidd #one piece killer #killer x reader #killer x kid #kidkiller #fanfic #fanfiction #y/n

[lunastrophe]

I'm curious if you know of how the other casting classes, like Bards, Sorcerers, and Warlocks are seen in Loth-sworn societies? If it's mentioned at all.

Oh, this is a really interesting topic! 😃 There are some information on drow bards, sorcerers and warlocks in Drow of the Underdark (3.5e) - I find especially the concept of drow bard totally awesome.

🕷️ Drow Bards - surfacers often do not realize that drow have an ancient bardic tradition, "one that transforms the traveling entertainer, trickster, and storyteller of the surface into one of the most horrific taskmasters and assassins of the Underdark".

Drow bards are somewhat uncommon in drow societies and they often do not travel the world, but usually connect themselves to some noble House, join a theatrical troupe or become employees in various city locations for artistic performances.

Performing can be deadly dangerous to a drow bard, especially since drow tastes are notoriously fickle - bards who fail to amuse their clients sometimes find themselves a part of the next performance: "disappointed audiences are not shy about taking out their frustrations on those who fail to provide suitable entertainment. The fatality rate among performers is high."

Many drow bards study various means of death-dealing, including the use of poisons, and are skilled spies and assassins. Sornafein, patron of Matron Mother Z'hindia Melarn from Menzoberranzan, was a bard - he was known to kill his rivals with strings of his instruments.

Drow artists in general are considered "even more decadent than typical members of their race".

🕷️ Deathsinger is a specific type of a bard, unique to drow culture. Deathsingers are rare and they combine their bardic skills with necromancy - they are able, for example, to control the dead through their songs.

🕷️ Drow Sorcerers - their position in drow societies is usually similar to that of drow wizards and arcane spellcasters in general. "Wizards and sorcerers are found in nearly equal numbers among the drow (...) and sorcerous talent runs strong through the chaotic and inherently magical drow."

🕷️ Drow Warlocks - "warlocks are not unknown among the drow, but they are seen as something of an oddity. The race's affinity with and connection to the Lower Planes is too great for them to not exhibit some sort of taint from beyond, and demonbinders are among the most common examples found."

Drow warlocks have "strong links to the Abyss and to Lolth, but those ties more directly bind them to Lolth's servants - her demons - than to the Spider Queen herself."

Also, I just found a curious thing about female drow warlocks:

If powers of a female drow warlock come from bargains with (or descent from) demons associated with Lolth, she can be considered blessed by the Spider Queen. If such a female meets all the other priesthood requirements, she can have the status of a priestess, even though she is technically an arcane spellcaster.

Apparently, this is one exception to the rule that all drow priestesses must be divine spellcasters. Such "warlock priestessess" are rare, though. They are also expected to serve the church and the noble houses rather than to run them.

#drow #lolth sworn drow #drow lore #drow culture #dnd lore #dark elves

[lily-orchard]

What's something that frustrates you the most when trying to critique art?

Internal ethical consistency.

When stories establish what they're going to take seriously and what they're not, it becomes extremely odd when they go back on their own word. A prime example would be the way RPGs have you slaughtering mooks by the truckloads but then when you reach the mastermind of evil go "The good option would be to spare them uwu."

Warcraft is probably the worst offender of this, where every character is committing three genocides before breakfast, and then throughout BFA and Shadowlands they try to get you to take genocide seriously. Or how they'll have the Red Dragons remember how the Deathlord slaughtered the Red Dragonflight in pursuit of a mount, but Malfurion turns around and lets the Horde Champion make a decision on whether or not to let someone bury their sister in the barrow dens despite being the cause of the extenuating circumstances in the first place.

Warcraft will say "We need to punish this war criminal" and I'm always surprised when they're talking about someone other than me. Garrosh committed genocide so the Horde can rule the world. Sylvanas committed genocide to break the cycle of life and death. I commit genocide every twelve seconds in the hopes of getting some slightly shinier pants.

I think "Ethical Consistency" is more important than the ethics a story operates on themselves. You want to create a crapsack world where murder is as common as a handshake, by all means. But if you start treating things that are objectively less severe than murder as signs of psychopathy that's when things are getting fucked up.

It's even worse when a fanbase operates on this kind of cognitive dissonance. You could have a story that features government neglect, corporations running roughshod over the nation without any care or oversight, and people treating their own children like retirement investments and the fanbase will then point at arguably the least evil person in the room and go "They're the real psychopath."

For all my criticisms of Steven Universe, it does remain consistent on its ethics to their own peril. They say "Everything is forgivable" and by god do they stick to it, unburdened by all those sensible people with their logic and common sense.

I respect that, in the same way I respect the people at Jackass subjecting themselves to grevious bodily harm and not letting any amount of pain deter them from future stunts.

[epithetemporium]

reguarding the trixie mario kart post,

do you have thoughts for the other characters? like mains/ skill level/ play style that kinda thing

love ur posts sm :3

(Naww thank you <33)

Molly

she WILL hit you with that green shell

especially right before the finish line

in fact all that stored up anger makes her incredibly good at sniping people with items

Molly knows about a few shortcuts but doesn't really use them because she's too worried about ruining her race by failing them

mains Toadette (and Isabelle but technically she isn't really a Mario Kart character but I'll ignore it since she's in the game)

her favorite track is Maple Treeway

Phoenica

She's too nice to use the items

actually she doesn't even really RACE at all, because it's irresponsible to drive a vehicle at these speeds

Feenie tries to apply real world driving laws to Mario Kart

it does not go well

there are no laws in Baby Park, only chaos

She loves the Princess drivers the most and adores the Babies

Uses smart steering

ALWAYS picks Daisy Circuit because of the statues of Luigi and Daisy together (she thinks they're very adorable)

Trixie

as said, she mains Drybones

Trixie knows ALL the important game breaking things. Shortcuts, best item spots, what would theoretically be the best combo, you name it

I think they'd prefer the bikes over the karts

favorite tracks are Coconut Mall (the Mario Kart fandom will understand why), Mushroom Gorge and Boo Lake

has to intentionally play bad so people don't stop playing with her at all

if anyone has a perfect rating in all cups at all speeds it's Trixie

Rick

he's terrible

I don't think he has fully figured out how a race works, even though he was told multiple times

this man right here plays as a Mii racer, you can't change my mind

he likes playing together with Phoenica. They don't race, they just drive around the courses and look at the pretty scenery together

if he ever gets any speed item in the item roulette he will cause chaos

probably drives backwards and against walls as we're speaking

Giovanni

the way he plays makes you think he's really bad at hiding that he lets you win

.....oh wait no, he's actually worse than thought-

he's oddly competitive even though his skills aren't the best but will intentionally play even worse when he knows someone is having a bad day

mostly uses King Boo, Waluigi and Birdo

favorite tracks include: Excitebike Arena, 3DS Neo Bowser City, Waluigi Pinball and Choco Mountain

he also has terrible luck in this game

loses most of his good items to shocks or gets hit over and over again

Sylvie

oh PLEASE he's way too adult for childish games like these

if you invite him over he'll spend the entire day infront of this game, experiencing inhuman joy whenever he gets a top spot, but he'll never admit it

Lorelai

I feel like if anyone were to cheat in Mario Kart it would be her

I'm not even sure how but she probably finds a way

actually this game would be terrible for her she will get so frustrated over this

she sometimes uses tracks like the Rainbow Roads, Rosalina's Ice World and Sky-High Sundae as inspirations for her Dream Bubbles

most likely likes Rosalina and Daisy the most

Zora

she will make your life a living hell here

sometimes she doesn't even drive she just...waits at the line with items....ready to ruin your entire game

she could totally win if she wanted to but she'd have fun in just targeting some player

#epithet erased #ee #molly blyndeff #phoenica fleecity #trixie roughhouse #trixie roughouse #rick shades #giovanni potage #sylvester ashling #sylvie ashling #lorelai blyndeff #zora salazar #ask #ursiidaexviii #mario kart #ramblings #headcanons

[mrs-barnes-rogers-writes]

Pretty As A Picture - Chapter 2

Marvel

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader x Bucky Barnes

Summary: When Bucky fell from the train, their soulmate was told he was gone. When Steve Rogers disappeared into the ice, their soulmate was again told one her soulmates were gone. But she didn't believe it. Couldn't believe it. Committed to a mental health institute, she dies of a broken heart. That's at least what the hidden S.H.I.E.LD files say, but if that's the case than why is there a photo of her. A photo that shows her side by side two redhaired Avengers.

Chapter Summary: Bucky doesn't need to know how to print a photo, but he needs to know why his dead soulmate is in the one he's looking at.

Chapter Warning: Mentions of death, sad Bucky. Mentions of vomiting.

Bucky felt like his stomach was going to full out his ass. He slowly rose from picking up the photo, feeling like he’d met his stomach on the way back up.

“How?” He asked, voice breaking as he spoke.

“How what James?” Asked Wanda, brow furrowed as she picked up on his distress.

“How? The photo? How?”

“Wanda took the photo on her phone, it was then sent by a wireless connection to the printer. Would you like us to show you how it works?” replied Vision.

“It’s not that Vis, I don’t think? James?”

Bucky felt his confusion boil over into anger. Did the synthezoid really think he didn’t know how to print a picture? He’d lived in Wakanda, the most advanced country in the world for a year and these idiots think he can’t work a damn printer and a phone.

“Not the damn phone! The photo! How do you have a photo? A photo of her?!?” Bucky’s frustration aimed at Wanda. Vision not taking too kindly to his raised voice being aimed at Wanda, stepped towards him, placing himself slightly in front of her.

“Sergeant Barnes, I’m going to ask you to calm down.”

“Vis, it’s Ok.” She replied stepping around him “James, the photograph? She looks like someone you know?”

Wanda didn’t really need to ask. Bucky’s stoic behaviour usually caused him to block his emotions and feelings from Wanda reading him but now they were fully on show and streaming out of him. She couldn’t not see them. A reaction like this meant one thing. Soulmates.

Bucky nodded tears beginning to rundown his cheeks.

“How do you have this? How do you have her on a photo?”

“Her? Who do you think this is?” She asked pointing at the woman in the photo with herself and Nat.

“She's ours. She’s my soulmate. Our soulmate.” He answered.

Even with his super soldier hearing, so caught up in seeing his lost soulmate, Bucky was oblivious that the rest of the team were now standing behind him. Including Steve.

“What? Buck what are you talking about?” Asked Steve.

Bucky turned towards Steve his hand shaking as he passed him the photo.

“How is this possible? How?”

Natasha’s eyes caught a glimpse of the photo he was holding, discreetly side eyeing Wanda who nodded.

“Anyone want to bring me up to speed here?” asked Tony, trying to catch a glimpse of the photo. Bruce did the same, recognising all of the people pictured immediately.

“Well, that’s Natasha, that’s Wanda and that’s…..wait what’s going on? When did you meet her?” Bruce asked Steve.

“Okay, well I’m no more informed with Bruce’s explanation. Ladies want to enlighten us?”

Nobody answered as Steve headed towards Wanda, eyeing her stack her photos.

“Do you have more?”

Wanda nodded, flicking through the others and pulling out another picture. The same figure this time front and centre, holding a stick of candyfloss. Grinning like it’s the best thing in the world. Natasha is in the background with an expression that is very Natasha, slight smirk, slight eyebrow raise. Wanda thought it captured both your personalities perfectly.

“Here.” She passed the photo to Steve. He let out a choked sob, pushing the photo toward Bucky, rushing into the bathroom, the sound of heaving heard before the door closed.

Unable to hold his simmering emotions anymore, Bucky sank to the floor, clutching the photo and sobbed.

#steve rogers x reader #avengers au #bucky barnes #steve rogers #bucky barnes x reader #avengers #steve x reader x bucky #soulmate au #avengers soulmate au #steve rogers x reader x bucky

[citrusbusiness]

Hey it's time for me to rant about mildly annoying things about society and being aro/ace! (Long post warning)

Okay so when I was eating dinner with my parents today and we were talking about our grandparents for a bit. Specifically, my grandma getting sick, and how my uncle traveling around all the time but living with them did not help that. Anyway then I was thinking about him, because he's unmarried with no kids and so is my other uncle. So then I brought up the fact that I have no first cousins, making my one joke about the topic that I'm the onliest only child ever. And we laughed about it for a bit, but then my mom said something else.

“See that's why –and I feel a bit like Jane Austen saying this– that's why you have to get married”

And my aroace brain already did not like that, but obviously I wasn't going to tell her that because I'm not out?? And then my dad then butted in with a joke about the reason being that the family line would end if I didn't, which annoyed me, but interestingly, my mother brushed that aside.

Instead, she said “because when you get old you won't have any siblings or cousins to help you.”

I... Had not been expecting that. So I sat there, not liking where the conversation had gone but not doing anything about it. I just put it aside to rant about later (this is that) and moved on with my evening

But I've come back to it now.

I'm not mad at my mom for telling me that I have to get married. I'm annoyed at my situation and our society for existing in a way where she's right.

I don't have siblings or cousins I'm close with who could help me. The only people I have are my friends, and who knows if I'll still be friends with them? Also, I have maybe one actually aro friend, all the others are highly likely to get into romantic relationships and maybe have children. They'll have their own people to be taking care of. I'm just going to be lower priority, that's how our society works. Hell, with the internet the way that it is, there's no guarantee that I would even live in the same area as most of my friends.

And this isn't even just an old age thing. What happens if I need a serious surgery? What person, with their own job and family and life, has the time to spend taking care of their friend for an extended period of time? I mean, I might, but I don't have the whole romance thing getting in the way.

I realize that I'm being pessimistic and that I should probably have more faith in both my friends and the way the world works. I'm just frustrated that because we place so much more emphasis on romance than we do friendships, once people start pairing up the friendships get left behind a little bit. I'm frustrated that you could make an argument that I might have to get married, not because I truly want to, but for the sake of my own health and comfort in the future. I'm frustrated that someone can say something as uncomfortable to me as “you have to get married,” and still have a decent point.

Again, I'm being a pessimist and I'm not mad at my mom. Or my dad.

…I need more irl aro friends.

#aro #aromanticism #aromantic #aroace #kinda #mostly a post for the aros though #rant post

[mariclerc]

A project of love | ls2

Summary: where you have to do a project with your crush and you try not to fall for him.

Warning: none.

a/n: requested and dedicated by @bananaleclerc I hope you like it!! And yes, I need a break from posting so much 😂😂

You're hunched over a textbook at a library table, surrounded by scattered notes and a half-eaten granola bar. Just then Logan enters the library, a whirlwind of energy and a backpack overflowing with what looks like every microbiology textbook ever written.

He slammed his books down next to you. “Hey there, study buddy! Ready to conquer the microscopic world?”

You jump a little, startled. He flashes a dazzling smile. “Uh, yeah, hi Logan. I was just... uh... reviewing.” You say, trying to sound casual.

“Awesome! Me too. Though, to be honest, my brain feels like it's about to explode from all these bacteria names.” He pulls out a chair dramatically and sits down. “Did you get a chance to look at the project outline Professor Davies sent? Apparently, we're germ-fighting partners!”

Your stomach flips. Internally screaming, you manage a smile. “Yeah, I saw it. Partnered up, huh? Makes sense, I guess.”

“Definitely! We balance each other out, right? You with your quiet genius vibe, and me... well, I bring the enthusiasm.”

You laugh nervously, a blush creeping up your cheeks.

“I wouldn't call myself a genius, but hopefully, I can keep up with your... enthusiasm.”

“Oh, you will, trust me. So, what do you think? Should we start with some foundational stuff, or dive straight into the exciting world of, like, antibiotic resistance?” he grins.

You take a deep breath, trying to focus. “Maybe foundational stuff first? That way, we're both on the same page when we get to the more complex topics.”

”Sounds like a plan! But hey, don't worry about keeping up. Like I said, I'm basically a walking microbiology encyclopedia. Just ask away if you get lost.”

You nod, but your mind is racing. Trying to focus on the project feels impossible now that you're so close to him.

You clear your throat. “Okay, so... cell walls of bacteria... what were we talking about those in lecture?”

Logan launches into an explanation, peppered with jokes and pop culture references. You try to concentrate, but all you can think about is the way his eyes light up when he talks about something he's passionate about.

Later, after a productive study session, you're packing your things.

“So, should we meet again tomorrow? Same time, same place?”

You feel your heart pounding. “Uh, yeah, sure. Sounds good.”

“Great! Hey, you seem a little quiet today. Everything alright?” he asks softly.

You force a smile. “Yeah, no, I'm just... tired, I guess... All this studying.”

“Studying can be draining! But hey, at least we're suffering together, right?” He winks at you. “See you tomorrow, germ fighter!”

He flashes another smile and throws you a peace sign before walking off. You sigh, a mix of frustration and a secret thrill bubbling in your chest. Studying with Logan might be the most nerve-wracking, yet strangely fun, experience of your university career so far.

You watch him disappear into the library crowd, a bittersweet pang in your chest.

You mutter to yourself. “Germ fighter, huh? More like heartbreaker.”

You gather your things, a sudden wave of determination washing over you. You like Logan, a lot. But you can't let that distract you from the project. You take a deep breath and head out of the library, a plan forming in your mind.

***

The next day, you arrive at the study table a few minutes early. You've spent the morning making flashcards – not just on microbiology, but also on Logan's interests you've gleaned from his conversation snippets. Genetics? Check. Obsession with the movie "The Andromeda Strain"? Double check.

He bursts in, a little late and slightly out of breath.

“Sorry I'm late! Professor Davies got us sidetracked talking about her research on bioluminescent bacteria. Apparently, there's a kind that glows neon green – can you believe it?” He says hurriedly, making you laugh a little, just then he notices the flashcards on the table. “Whoa, flashcards? You serious?”

You nod smiling, not as nervously as yesterday. “Just thought they might help us remember all this complex stuff. Besides, I found some fun facts related to the topics we need to cover. Maybe a little trivia can keep things interesting?”

His eyes wide at your words. “You got fun facts about bacteria? Okay, you officially win coolest study partner ever! Shoot, let's hear one.”

You pick up a flashcard and grin. Maybe studying with Logan won't be so bad after all. Maybe you can find a way to balance your academic focus with a sprinkle of something more.

***

The following week becomes a whirlwind of flashcards, late-night library sessions fueled by takeout, and a slow, simmering tension between you and Logan. Your knowledge of bacteria trivia becomes legendary, earning you surprised yet impressed glances from Logan. He, in turn, starts bringing coffee (with extra whipped cream for you, which you secretly adore) and peppering the study sessions with personal anecdotes, revealing a surprisingly deep and caring side beneath his bubbly exterior.

One rainy afternoon, hunched over a microscope analyzing bacterial cultures, Logan asks. “Hey, you ever wonder what those bioluminescent bacteria actually look like in real life?”

You glance up, surprised by the sudden seriousness in his voice. “Not really.” you admit, “but Professor Davies said she has some under a special microscope in her lab. Maybe we could ask if we could take a peek after our next class?”

He grins, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Perfect... We can make it a little research adventure.”

The stolen glance you share sparks a warmth in your chest, a silent acknowledgement that this is more than just a study session. The next day, after you convince a hesitant Professor Davies to let you glimpse the glowing bacteria, you find yourselves alone in the dimly lit lab.

As you peer through the microscope, Logan leans closer, his shoulder brushing yours. “Wow.” he whispers, “they're incredible.”

You hum in agreement, captivated by the tiny emerald lights dancing before your eyes. The silence stretches, charged with unspoken emotions. You can feel the heat radiating from him, his breath tickling your ear.

Suddenly, the lab door bursts open, revealing Professor Davies returning from her meeting. You and Logan jump apart, both cheeks flushing a deep red.

“Did you get to see them?” she asks cheerfully.

“Yes, Professor,” you stammer a little bit, “they're amazing!”

As the week progresses, the air between you crackles with a new awareness. You find yourself stealing glances at Logan as he talks, your heart skipping a beat when he laughs at one of your jokes.

During a particularly frustrating attempt at culturing E. coli, you blurt out, “Ugh, these bacteria are so stubborn!”

“Hey,” Logan says softly, placing a hand on yours, “we'll figure it out together... Like always.”

His touch sends a jolt through you, and you meet his gaze, your eyes locked in a silent conversation. In that moment, you both know this partnership has become something more, a budding connection waiting to bloom amidst the petri dishes and microscopes.

The shared look hangs heavy in the air, the frustration of the stubborn E. coli forgotten. Logan's hand lingers on yours, his thumb gently brushing against your skin. You can feel the warmth radiating from him, and a blush creeps up your neck.

“Maybe,” he starts, his voice a low rumble, “we should take a break from these little buggers. Grab some coffee, clear our heads?”

You nod mutely, your heart pounding a frantic rhythm against your ribs. Stepping out of the lab, the rain has stopped, leaving the air fresh and clean. As you walk side-by-side, a comfortable silence settles between you. You steal a glance at Logan, his profile sharp against the setting sun.

Reaching the familiar coffee shop you frequent, you order your usual, Logan opting for his favorite with extra whipped cream (a detail that makes your stomach flutter with a strange mix of amusement and affection). Settling into a quiet corner booth, you both sip your drinks, the tension still simmering beneath the surface.

“Thanks for sticking with this project,” Logan says, his gaze fixed on you. “It wouldn't have been nearly as fun without you.”

A shy smile graces your lips. “It wouldn't have been so bad with you either.”

He leans closer, his eyes searching yours. The air crackles with unspoken desire. In a voice barely above a whisper, he asks, “Can I do something?”

Your breath catches in your throat. You nod hesitantly, a shiver running down your spine. He closes the distance between you, his hand cupping your cheek. His touch is soft, sending a jolt of electricity through you.

The kiss is tentative at first, a brush of lips that sends a wave of heat through your body. But then, something shifts. He deepens the kiss, his hand moving to cradle your head, tilting it for better access. You melt into him, the taste of coffee and something uniquely Logan swirling on your tongue.

The kiss is brief, broken by a gasp for air. He leans his forehead against yours, his chest rising and falling with each ragged breath. Your eyes flutter open to meet his, a goofy grin plastered across his face.

“Wow,” he breathes, a mixture of awe and amusement in his voice.

You can only manage a shaky smile, your heart overflowing with a mix of exhilaration and nervousness. The world seems to tilt on its axis, and for a moment, only you and Logan exist in this small corner of the coffee shop.

As you pull back and smile, a newfound confidence sparks within you... Maybe this partnership, born amidst bacteria and microscopes, could blossom into something more. And you, for one, are eager to see where it leads.

#formula one x reader #f1 x you #logan sargeant #logan x reader #logan sargent x reader #logan sargeant imagine #logan sargeant x you #logan x you #logan x y/n #logan sargeant fluff #mariclerc fics