#art restorer y/n

[cupid-styles]

the yoga class (hockey!h x ballerina!yn)

in which y/n has to lead a yoga class for the hockey team, and harry doesn't miss out on making fun of her (but maybe he needs her help, too).

I actually love this blurb and I hope you guys enjoy it too :))

word count: 1.8k

content warnings: none really! y/n and harry both being stubborn little shits but minor strides made by the end :)

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. . .

When Mrs. Lei asked Y/N if she would mind instructing an entry level yoga class this evening, she neglected to mention that it was for the hockey team.

What she had said implied something along the lines of, “You’re one of my star students and always go above and beyond, and I know I can sucker you into doing nearly anything because you’re an incredibly disciplined dancer with the inability to say no.”

So, naturally, even though it felt like every single tiny muscle in Y/N’s body was aching from practicing grand and tour jetés (Mrs. Lei was ruthless about them), she said she’d do it. Because she’s a sucker without a backbone, and getting placed as a frontline dancer or receiving a glowing recommendation from Mrs. Lei somewhere down the line was more than enough of a reason for her to teach some measly 45-minute yoga class at the end of the day.

She assumes it’s some type of volunteer work, an open call to students across campus. There was a fairly large performing arts sector and, like any other university, a decent amount of sports teams, so Y/N assumed there would at least be a class of 10 or so. Mrs. Lei sets her up with a basket of yoga mats from the gym and some simple instructions of, “it’s meant to be a stretch-heavy, restorative flow, so don’t go too hard on them.”

Easy enough, right?

But Y/N’s stomach slowly begins to churn when 6 pm comes around and the only people filtering in are big, burly men that she feels like she’s only seen in layers upon layers of protective equipment. Y/N isn’t short, nor is she a particularly small person — her abilities as a dancer have been questioned time and time again because of this — so she doesn’t feel intimidated by them, considering she knows she could go toe-to-toe with them in a smattering of physical activities. Running wasn’t her strong suit, but a decent amount of cardio was required to maintain the appearance of keeping it together during longer performances, while the muscles of her arms, back, and legs were chiseled from years of nearly daily practice. 

But when Harry walks in, she assumes this is some kind of prank. Mrs. Lei would never be put up to something like that (she’s a woman with decorum), but maybe the hockey team somehow caught wind of the class and wanted to torture her, just like Harry’s been doing for the past three years. 

She stomps over to him the second he crosses the entryway, grabbing his wrist and pulling him back outside.

“No,” she says immediately, dropping his arm like it’s poisonous, “Get out.”

“What?”

“Get out.” she repeats through gritted teeth. “This isn’t funny. You can’t fuck with me when I’m doing something like this.”

Harry’s eyebrows furrow and he seems to look genuinely confused. It’s only then that he cocks his head to the side, a smirk threatening to curl at the edges of his lips. “Cinderella, did no one tell you who this class is for?”

She shrugs her shoulders and crosses her arms over her chest. Y/N doesn’t like being taken by surprise, let alone other people knowing she’s out of the loop.

Harry damn near chortles in response as the smirk grows into a wicked grin. “Oh, sweetheart. You signed up to teach the hockey team yoga.”

Once Harry gets his boyish laughter out of the way, Y/N makes quick work of changing the rundown of the class. She moves her yoga mat all the way to the back in fear of having 15 hockey players stare at her ass the entire time, instructing them to watch her in the mirror or raise their hand if they need help getting into a certain position. She lowers the lights and puts some soothing music on to tune out any teasing laughter, but it already seems like they’re taking it seriously based on the way most of them are already in cross-legged positions, allowing their eyes to fall closed. It eases Y/N’s nerves some, until she looks over at Harry, who’s sitting there with his legs straight out like a toddler, a goofy smile on his lips.

With a roll of her eyes, she begins the class.

. . .

“This one might be a little tough so let me know if you need some help, but we’re gonna shift into a reclined pigeon pose now,” Y/N instructs, “With your back flat against the mat, bend your knees. Good. Now, with one knee still bent, we’re going to create a figure 4 by crossing the right ankle over the top of the left knee.”

She gives them some time to process, standing from her own mat to ensure no one’s desperately flopping around. 

“Great,” she praises, “This is excellent for opening your hip flexors, thighs, and chest. Make sure you’re breathing into the pose.”

She hears a chorus of deep exhales and it makes her smile. Not only is she glad that they’re actually taking it seriously (there’s a possibility she judged them all a bit too hard), but there’s something about having some sort of power over the team that strokes her ego, too. 

She weaves in and out between the mats, continuing to encourage them to breathe and stretch deeper. When she passes by Harry, who’s doing the pose a bit wrong, she resists the urge to simply kick him. 

Instead she quietly gets down on her knees, “Do you need help adjusting?”

Harry’s eyes flicker open. Instantly, he has a scowl on his face. So much for relaxation. “Why?”

“Your ankle bone should be pressing into your thigh,” she whispers, pointing to where his ankle is just barely grazing the edge of his leg, “If you deepen the pose, it’ll help with any stress you’re feeling in your hips and thighs.”

He huffs, clearly contemplating her offer, before rolling his eyes and mumbling out, “sure.”

She wants to tell him that touching him certainly isn’t at the top of her to-do list today, but she doesn’t want to disrupt the rest of the class. With her knees pressing into the surface of his yoga mat, she sits in front of him, gently grasping his right calf and shifting it to the side. 

“What the fuck, Cinderella?!” he whisper-yells, nails clawing into the thick foam he’s laying on. Y/N shushes him and sends an irritated glare his way. “That hurts!”

“Probably because your hips are tight as fuck.” she mutters. “How do you walk around like this all day?”

“I don’t know, you try being a goalie—”

“Shut the fuck up,” she whispers under her breath. She hates that argument, where people automatically assume that ballet is some pretty artform that requires minimal effort. It was gorgeous, but the amount of painful injuries Y/N’s sustained from the sport would send Harry into a tizzy. 

It’s clear that he’s not bending any deeper into the pose so Y/N stands up, deciding to finish up the class instead of focusing all of her attention on Harry and his fucked up hips. She keeps them on the floor for the remainder of their time, having them do light twists and stretches, finally closing out class with some positive self-affirmations. When 6:45 pm ticks by, she slowly turns on the lights and stands by the door. They’re all very polite, thanking her graciously for spending her evening with them. It’s almost enough to make her feel pure happiness until Harry, the last to leave, stops in front of her. 

“What?” she asks, crossing her arms defensively. 

“Can you shut the door?” 

Y/N squints her eyes at him. “No?”

“I have a question and I don’t want anyone to hear it.”

“I swear to god, if you ask me to jerk you off or something, I will punch you so hard in the dick—”

“Oh, shut up,” Harry mutters, “That’s why puck bunnies exist, asshole.”

Y/N’s stomach tightens, though she’s not exactly sure why. Every sports team had some form of groupies with “puck bunnies” being the name of the ones for the hockey team. It seemed somewhat derogatory to her, but it didn’t seem like the girls held much of an issue with it.

“Sounds gross.” she finally replies, her face twisting into an expression of disgust. 

“Well it’s not like we all share them, the girls have their biases—”

“Is this what you wanted to ask me about?”

Harry’s eyes dart to the door and she sighs, closing it gently. Annoyed, she motions for him to say whatever it is he needs to say.

“Goalies have to wear, like, a shit ton of stuff on the ice and I hardly ever stretch after a game—”

“That’s awful for you, Harry.”

He shoots her an angry look. 

“So, yeah, my hips are fucked. And they hurt really fucking bad.”

“Start stretching after games, then?” Y/N replies as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. 

“Yeah… that’s kind of the idea,” he says slowly, “Do you have, like… other… yoga poses that you know of? That would be good for that type of thing?”

Y/N thinks for a moment. It’s something she has to do before and after performances or practices, too, since a number of moves and jumps rely on the joint movement in her hips. From an athlete-to-athlete standpoint, she gets it. In fact, she almost pities him, because the pain must be awful.

“Yes,” she eventually says with a nod. “There’s a lot. If it helps, I can put together a little guide for you and text it to you.”

Harry raises his eyebrows. “Really? You would do that?”

She shrugs. “You must be hurting badly to ask for my help.”

He scoffs, digging into the pocket of his athletic shorts for his phone. He pulls it out, bringing up his contact page. “You have no idea.”

She hums as she quickly types her number in. For the contact name, she always puts emojis in so people don’t forget who she is. She settles on Y/N🌷🩰🍒. When she hands it back to him, he snorts. 

“What?” 

“Those emojis definitely aren’t staying.” he replies with a roll of his eyes. 

“Why?” she asks with a slightly pouty bottom lip. 

“Because emojis are childish and I don’t put them next to anyone’s name?” 

She balks at his criticism as she slides her shoes on. 

“That’s mean. I put emojis next to everyone’s name on my phone.”

Harry snorts, “Yeah? What are you gonna put next to mine, then?”

It doesn’t take her more than a second to decide: “The devil horns, probably.”

He cackles as he opens the door to the studio with a shake of his head. 

“Wouldn’t want it any other way, princess,” he calls out as he walks down the hallway. 

#writing #hockey h #harry styles writing #harry styles #harry styles blurb #harry styles imagine #harry styles fan fic #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one direction #harry styles x reader #harry styles x oc #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles oneshot

[doomedmoth]

Better kind of best friend

Pairing : Reader x Alexandra Saint Mleux x Charles Leclerc | Poly & bisexual fem!reader

Warnings : slight emotional cheating, obsessive/possessive/manipulative behavior, suggestive content/smut, fluff then angst then dark fluff, inaccurate racing calendar and school programs, polyamory, use of y/n

Synopsis : When you left the UK for a year long art restoration program in Monaco, you mainly wanted to make some friends. What you didn’t expect was to find your best friend on the first day. And then fall in love with her. And then get tangled in the web of Monaco high society as her boyfriend came back to town, unaware of your little affairs. What the fuck happened to you, you just wanted to make some friends…

Moth’s prophecy💡: Hi frieeeends, sorry for any mistakes, I haven’t written more than blurbs in a while. The poly, Charles, dark parts and smut will happen in the next chapters, I intend on making three of them. The first is mostly gay panic and tooth rotting fluff, so enjoy before it all goes to shit !!

As you stepped outside of Nice’s airport, you felt like you were finally breathing. The weather wasn’t particularly gloomy when you had left London, but nothing compared to the Mediterranean sun and the breeze of the sea. It had always had an inexplicable calming effect on you, now only interrupted by an old French woman throwing what sounded like insults at you as she moved past you towards the parking lot. The sea, you had missed. French people, not so much.

As you embarked on your second journey of buses and trains to your final destination, you took the time of going once more over the details of what would be your schedule those next few months. After getting your degree in Conservation and Restoration of Cultural Heritage, your parents thought it would only do you good to go practice on the field before even thinking of applying to any museum in the UK. You had gone on vacation on the French south coast a few times with them, and in a surprising but welcome turn of events, the Pavillon Bosio, Monaco’s art school, was organizing an internship welcome to all students of arts degrees in Europe. For your parents, a precious opportunity to add an experience to your CV in a prestigious setting. For you, the occasion to enjoy the beach and make friends in an artist residency after five years of hard work at university. Win-win.

The sun was setting on the hills when you finally settled into your room at the residency. Located close to the school, in the high parts of Monaco, the house was old but gorgeous, with pale pink walls and palm trees everywhere in the garden. Ivy leaves were growing at your window, which gave you a view of the port lighting up in the evening. Three floors high, there were a total of 8 bedrooms, all to be occupied by students of the Bosio program. The two remaining were, according to the brief, residents of Monaco.

You threw yourself on the bed with a sigh, your suitcases not even opened yet. The birds were singing softly and your eyes started to flutter in rhythm with them. If you did not make a move, you would be fast asleep, you thought. Yet it seemed like such an effort…

“Ciaoooo !” You sat straight up from the fluffy bed, meeting a pair of green eyes in the opening of the door “Oh scusa, ti ho svegliato ?”

The girl had gorgeous ginger hair, though likely unnatural, flowing down to her waist, and a mischievous smile. She seemed a bit younger than you, and kept staring back at you until you shook your head and answered.

“Sorry ! Um, English is okay ? For you ? No parlo…” was it even parlo ? You were trying to get your point across, hoping she would forgive your mistakes. “No parlo Italiano ?”

“Aaaah yeah yeah sure !” She chuckled, her accent even richer in English. “I’m sorry, did I wake you up ? I just arrived, it seems like we’re the only ones there…”

“No, no don’t worry, I was just resting my eyes. I did not check the other rooms, are we really ?” She nodded, pouting and crossing her arms. She probably expected a big welcome party. “I’m Y/N.”

“Chiara ! Let’s go have a drink when you’ve unpacked !”

You smiled as the girl waved and trotted downstairs. She was right, unpacking right now would probably be a good idea.

“Cazzo, la mia testa…” Chiara groaned while walking down the stairs from her bedroom to the shared kitchen.

Definitely, you had been right to not follow her in town the day before the start of “classes”. The bottle of wine you downed together in under half an hour had been enough, and when she had left to go explore the nearest bars, you had opted for a swift retreat into your room.

This coincided with the arrival of two other students, with whom you spent the rest of the evening making small talk. Apparently another one had arrived in the night.

The Italian boy you hadn’t met was immediately assaulted by Chiara, who seemed to know him. And it also seemed the feeling wasn’t mutual. You understood almost nothing of their exchange, but it made you and your new roommates laugh quite a lot.

The rest of the morning passed slowly, your shared breakfast only interrupted by Chiara’s flow of anecdotes, and a few exchanges about where each one of you was coming from and what studies you did before. One of the girls you had met the night before was going through the rule book of the residency, staring out loud the facts she found relevant.

It’s only around twelve, as you were all getting ready to head to the school for your first meeting, that the three last students arrived to the house. A few pleasantries were exchanged, a promise of a good meal together tonight to meet properly, and you all left the residency, following happily the little path from the garden up the hills.

The Pavillon Bosio looked more like a huge villa than a school, hidden between the trees. With its cute red roof and stunning view of the sea, you were all in awe as you entered through the gates.

“Bonjour, bonjour tout le monde ! This way please, for the restoration workshop right ? This way, come !” An old bearded man with a thick French accent welcomed you all, guiding you through the corridors of the school.

You settled in a small classroom, tables filled with paper cups, coffee dispensers and pastries. The old man introduced himself as the head of the program, and encouraged you to have a drink and get to know each other while waiting for the last two students. You couldn’t help but notice that some things never change, it’s always the one who live the closest who are the latest.

But you had barely any time to put down your bags and take a coffee before laughter was heard in the hallway, two voices clearly making their way towards you. And as they entered the room, your head started spinning.

There they were, the two monegasques, the last missing pieces of your eclectic little group of students. The man was quite elegant, dressed all in black in spite of the warm temperature, and body dripping with gold jewelry. But the girl, oh the girl… With long straight chestnut hair, and eyes of an even darker shade of brown, she was holding on to her friend’s arms with a delicacy only found in children who grew up bathed in the finest luxuries. She was wearing a white summer dress that did nothing to hide the shape of her body, and accentuated her sun-kissed skin. Everyone turned to them as they entered the room, but it seemed to you her eyes were only on you. The thought that you would have been the first to catch her attention made you blush, and you went on to hide your embarrassment in your cup of coffee.

“Alexandra, Luca, bienvenue ! Toujours un plaisir de vous revoir !” The old man, whose name you had learnt was Jean-Paul, went on to shake the hands of the two students, who he seemed to know already. “Je vous en prie, installez vous, prenez un café !”

The man, Luca if you understood correctly, stayed by the teacher’s side, engaging in a conversation punctuated by loads of “Oh !” and “Ah”, but the girl made her way to you with a determination that made you want to hide under the table.

She lost no time serving herself a cup of coffee and a pastry, and turned to you with a smile brighter than the summer sun. As she put her hand on your shoulder, leaning in to lay a kiss on each of your cheeks, you felt as if all the air had been sucked from your body.

“Alexandra, nice to meet you !”

And just like that, your whole world had turned upside down.

In the days that followed that meeting, all the little group of students started to get along pretty well, getting to know each other from their studies to the role they would play in your year-long project, while also sharing personal anecdotes at night, under the trees of the residency’s garden.

But the bond you felt with Alexandra, that was something else. It was as if you two had known each other forever, everything flowed smoothly, and your passions were either shared by the girl, or met with genuine curiosity and interest. Not even two weeks had passed and you already had little habits, inside jokes and plans for the rest of the year.

In the first stage of the program, the work was mainly research and preparation of the artworks, which meant that except for the mandatory seminars and meetings here and there, you were free to schedule your work time and partners as you pleased. This led to Alexandra coming to the house every morning, having breakfast with you, and going to the school together, or settling in your bedroom with your computers and working, or at least trying, together. If you gave yourself free time, she would take you to museums, or restaurants she enjoyed, or just lying down in parks as she tried to teach you some French. She was kind and patient, and in a desperate wish to get her to like you, you tried to be the best student, reading diligently every book she recommended you.

You quickly realized that although she was a true social butterfly, the whole group of students enjoying having her around, she was much more comfortable when you were just the two of you. She would often suggest you sneak off from team activities, wanting to share the secrets of the city she grew up in only with you. And there was no way you would complain about that. By the end of September, you deeply felt like you had found the best of best friends.

You didn’t know how it got so bad so quickly. No, actually, you did. Alexandra was the worst kind of best friend for someone as prone as you to catch feelings. You had always been quite close physically with your friends, hugging and holding hands were essentials for you to express your affection, but you also knew how weak you could be to pet names and fluttering eyelashes, and with each day that passed, she was making it harder for you to only see her as a friend.

You knew she was aware of her beauty and of how everyone seemed to gravitate towards her, but how could she not realize that the amount of affection she gave you was on the borderline of what would be considered “normal” for a girl friendship ? How could she so casually play with your hair, nails softly digging into your scalp as she lulled you to sleep, your head on her legs in your bed ? How could she lack all sense of modesty, casually undressing in front of you when preparing for a party, and expecting you to help her choose a dress as if you weren’t face to face with her lacy underwear and model body.

You truly despised yourself for ruining such a pure friendship with those thoughts, and desperately tried to remember to not break her trust by being not better than those “nice guys” you had so often dealt with yourself. But what you thought could be a simple physical attraction, something that would pass with a few drinks and the arms of an unknown frenchie, turned into a feeling that burned your insides and made your heart ache a little bit more everyday.

You had so often longed for a soft love, someone who would accept and care for you with the same warmth as you would for them. Friends, good friends, you always had many. Deep friendship, much less so. But the bond you had with Alexandra, you had never experienced it before. You were starting to think that if you had ever felt love before, it had been nothing more than a crush in comparison to this.

You tried to be a good friend. Controlling your breathing when she touched you. Inviting others to your gatherings when you felt you might confess after one too many drinks. Trying not to read too much into her actions, but damn it, she really seemed to be like this only with you.

In the end, what lost you were the pet names. One in particular, she would always throw carelessly as if the word didn’t roll on her lips, sweet like honey.

“Coucou mon chou !”

Waving at you and jumping in your arms, she would repeat the pet name again and again just to see you blush, and who were you to deny her… At first you did not know the meaning of it, and thinking of it, maybe you should have never asked.

It was the middle of October, and you were working with her and Chiara in the school, getting started on repairing some of the minor artworks that were entrusted to you. Well, more like you and Chiara were working, and Alexandra was tagging along out of boredom. With her degree in Art History, her role in the workshop wasn’t as much on the artworks than on their exposition. Which mostly meant your ginger friend was peeling little gold leaves while listening to EDM so loud you could still shake your head in rhythm through her headphones, and Alexandra was glued to you, even in the most uncomfortable of positions.

She had started working on little braids in your hair when, once again, the pet name was used.

“Mon chou, d’you have any hair ties ?”

“What does it mean ?” You asked as plainly as possible, while giving her the hair tie on your wrist.

“What does what mean ?”

“Mon chou. I guess that’s a nickname but you haven’t taught me what it means.” Something good, you hoped. Something sweet.

“No way you don’t know what’s a chou ?!” She grabbed you by the shoulders and you had to follow her movement swiftly in order to not ruin your work “Un chou ? Like… un chou à la crème ?” You nodded no, a bit shameful. You should have looked it up yourself. “It’s a pastry, dear. Something delicious, very airy, the best are filled with cream ? My favorite.” She planted a kiss on your cheek, and you thought, honest to god, that you could die happy on the spot. “Just like you.”

If only this had stopped there. But the next day, when she came to the residency, she snuck the breakfast directly into your room. You had barely woken up when she sat on the side of your bed, seemingly quite excited. She made you sit up and pushed some strands of hair behind your ears before placing the small pastry box on your knees.

“What is this Alex…?” You groaned while pushing back the curtains with one hand, rubbing your eyes with the other.

“Des choux !” She was grinning from ear to ear, and did not give you much more time to comprehend before opening the box. In it, a myriad of little golden cream puffs were staring back at you. “Des choux pour mon chou !” She giggled at her joke and you could not help but laugh too, for the gift was both actually funny, and sweet. “You gotta taste !”

You agreed, but she seemed to have something else in mind as she took one between her slender fingers and brought it up to your mouth. Surely she would not…? And surely she did. Taking advantage of your stupid lack of reaction time, she softly pushed the pastry between your lips, not enough to make you gag on it, yet you could still feel her digit rubbing your bottom lip before making an exit, leaving you dumbfounded and mouth full of the soft cream. Oh yes, you were definitely fucked.

October came to an end, the heavy temperatures and lazy afternoons on the beach leaving place to walks in the old town, cuddled together under one huge scarf. But the evening breeze did nothing to appease the fire in your heart, nor did it slow the speed at which your feelings for Alexandra deepened every day. If not too long ago, you wished for your friendship to stay as pure as the summer sky, now you only longed to confess, lay your heart out before her as a sacrifice, telling her to eat it raw, and the whole of you with it. It was a mixture of love, devotion and desire so strong, she could have asked you to worship her and you would have built a cathedral in her honor.

But you were oh so afraid of ruining everything. If she didn’t return your feelings, that was one thing. But what if she hated you for it ? You could not bear the thought of being apart from her, especially knowing you would still have to work with her for the rest of the year. You would rather eat your feelings than let it happen.

You were still pondering what it could mean for you both when you arrived at her apartment, in the very center of Monaco. You had been there quite a few times, even more recently, to work, to crash after evenings out, or just to have sleepovers, like tonight. It was very well located, and filled with expensive and tasteful furniture, but you did not really like it.

She had explained to you that she did her studies in Paris, and her parents still lived in Monaco. She would also often hang out at friends’ places, in and out of Monaco, and even spend weekends outside of the country quite frequently, with friends as well. The apartment was mostly a safety net, an investment, but you could feel nothing of her in it. It was barely decorated, a bit more those last few weeks now that you two were constantly buying stupid trinkets in token of your friendship, but you did not see her in it.

Yet, as she opened the door and took you instantly in her arms, whispering in your ear, home is the only word that came to your mind.

“Bonsoir mon petit chou”

“Bonsoir louloute” you answered sheepishly with your shitty accent, greeting her with the pet name she had taught you, one her friend Luca often used. It did not mean anything, just sounded cute.

She giggled, taking your hand and leading you inside. Very quickly, through music, wine and hair curlers, the mood for the evening was set. The alcohol made you speak more freely, and hopefully, it would help Alexandra too. Even though she said you knew things about her that nobody else did, there were still many subjects where you could feel her hesitation to delve in. It’s okay, with time, she would trust you about those too, you were sure of it.

She was babbling on about some friends’ drama while sitting on the edge of the window, when you took in the sight in front of you. She had taken off her hair curlers, and put on a satin robe that was slowly falling down her shoulder. The show of lights behind her, flickering between the moon and the glow of the city’s street lamps, made her features stand out even more. Her hair looked so shiny, her skin so soft, and the sparkle in her eye… Nothing she said really mattered, yet you could listen to her for hours and hours, as long as she kept blessing you with this sight.

You must have stared too intensely or for too long, because she came down from her seat and knelt on the floor, right in front of you, softly cupping your cheek with her hand.

“Ça va mon chou ?” Her brows furrowed, and she brought her other hand to your forehead. “You okay ?”

Her hot breath, inches away from your face. Her perfume, tickling your nose, you could almost see it dripping from her neck. Her fingers, drawing small figures on your cheeks. And her lips… there she was, so close, almost face to face, you had dreamt of this so often, and only now you realized how pink her lips were.

Maybe it was the amount of wine, maybe the temperature in her living room, but everything started spinning, and before you knew it, you had closed the gap and crashed your lips against hers. One hand on her small waist, the other in her hair, the kiss was messy, sticky like honey, you wanted to bite and barely restrained yourself. You felt like your heart was about to explode when she moaned into your mouth, and you were pretty sure you felt it drop when she pulled away.

For what felt like an eternity, you stayed silent, panting, eyes locked, air heavy with the realization of what had just happened. She blushed, and you started smiling, before she spoke in a shaky breath, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Y/N… I’m sorry I…. I have a boyfriend…”

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3

#doomedmoth #fanfic #formula 1 rpf #formula one x reader #f1 x reader #f1 x you #charles leclerc #Charles Leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x reader x alexandra saint mleux #dark!f1 #poly!f1 #Alexandra Saint mleux x reader #Alexandra Saint Mleux #cl16 #y/n #f1 x y/n #cl16 x you #cl16 x y/n #f1 polyamory #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #Charles Leclerc fanfic #fluff

[queer-little-demigod]

Hi lea!!!! Can you write about an clarisse la true x apollo!reader

Clarisse got in trouble for something (what's new tho) and got a punishment of helping out with the little demigods art class for 2 weeks (or however long) the volunteer teacher is reader. At first Clarisse did NOT wanna be there she acted like a baby for the first few days but after she got more involved and started to understand she enjoyed it (she would never admit it), she started talking to the kids more (she totally has favorites, reader has to constantly tell her dont be so obvious about her favorites 😭) it got to a point where the kids would start talking to her outside of class. Also Clarisse definitely doesn't develop a crush on reader. AT ALL. SHE DEFINITELY HATES HOW PASSIONATE SHE IS ABOUT THE KIDS AND ART AND HOW GOOD SHE IS WITH KIDS SHE DOESN'T THINK ITS CUTE AT ALL. SHE DOESNT THINK OF THAT CLASS AS ONE BIG FAMILY. I mean what???? Who said that???

Anyways when it's time for her to go reader takes some of the kids to make a goodbye sign for clarisse; clarisse takes her 100% not favorite kid on a secret mission to make an 'I'm staying' sign. Then reader and Clarisse present them at the same time and it's all cutesy!! After class, reader asks clarisse on a date via showing her a pain she drew of them on a date and hopes she gets the message!

Thank you! :)

you got an artist inside you - clarisse la rue

summary where clarisse finds herself falling in love with a girl over paintbrushes and a punishment

fic type fluff

pairing clarisse la rue x fem!apollo!reader

word count 1.8k

warnings none

The camp was usually sleepy, quiet, and mostly empty apart from a few stray campers training here and there. But with summer already beating down with a burning force, it was full of kids running around, training left right and center, and all-in-all just general chaos.

So with the burning heat came grumpy older campers, which meant fights.

And a fight at lunch is what led to Clarissa having to help the younger campers with art class, with the co-teacher being none other than you, Y/n L/n, counsellor of the Apollo cabin. Additionally and otherwise known as the girl Clarisse was smitten with.

"Clarisse La Rue if you don't stop whining like that right now, I am going to smack you," you grumbled in utter frustration for the fifth time that hour, when she complained to you about some kid not cutting the paper the way it was supposed to be cut.

For a child of the god of war, she was such a wuss sometimes.

"But they're not following-" she began to protest, but a smack upside the head with a roll of wrapping paper shut her up.

"They're seven year olds in a summer camp art class," you emphasised on those facts. "They're gonna do their own thing!"

This was how the first few days went. She complained, you disciplined both her and the kids. But once she got used to the whole routine of you both giving instructions and the final products having irritatingly distinct variations, she cooled down.

If this was going to be a punishment for the next two weeks, she might as well enjoy it.

The art room, as usual, was a mess. Glitter was everywhere, coloured pencils were strewn around, papers were on the floor, blackened and trampled on. The strong scent of glue made everyone a bit woozy, and there was enough shouting for supplies across the table to give even the calmest camper a sensory overload.

Clarisse sat in the danger zone where the most glitter was being thrown around and spilled, and her soft skin was already glimmering with purple and red glitter as she tried restoring order. However, instead of yelling as usual she was laughing along with the little kids.

One kid in particular, you noticed, she helped far more than the others. A Hephaestus kid named Dennis, who was the sweetest little thing with big, round glasses and bronze hearing aids that you had Charlie customise so they looked like metal elf ear tips.

You pulled Clarissa aside and scolded her with a smile, “Clar, you cannot pick favourites!”

Clarissa loved your smile with everything she had. So naturally, she was so captivated by it that she didn't hear you the first time. Nor did she register the scolding.

"Excuse me, but Dennis deserves special treatment--" She began, but you cut her off.

"No, he's just like the other kids, okay? Just make sure you don't pick favourites, please," you sighed and walked away, going back to showing the kids how to make paper butterflies.

But you're my favourite, she thought to herself. She wished she had the courage to say it out loud, admit her feelings for you, but she couldn't.

Later, as time went by, as days of standing in clouds of glitter and glue fumes began and ended, Clarisse found that she was apparently likeable. After classes, during training, during dinner, she'd have little kids pulling her sleeve to talk to her, she'd have kids randomly hugging her at odd times of the day, or giving her small artworks like a wonky bird or a odd-looking Cerebrus. It shocked the campers beyond belief.

But for you it just made your love for her grow.

One day during class, a Demeter kid named Flora started to cry because glitter went into her eye. You rushed over immediately and helped her up, holding her in your arms as you took her to the basin to clean her up.

"Shh, don't cry, baby, it's okay, I'm gonna wash it out, alright?" You said softly.

"Guys, focus on your work, Flo's fine," Clarisse said, clapping her hands to direct the staring kids back to work, her eyes fixed on you as you washed Flora's eyes with water gently, telling her that she should not to go so close to the page when blowing glitter off in the softest voice the child of war had ever heard.

You were so gentle, like the softest summer breeze which didn't make the leaves rustle, but cooled one's warming skin. You were so precious, with your soft smile and loving words. Your voice was sweet like honey, no matter who you talked to or how.

If your voice was bottled, she swore to the gods that she'd get drunk on it every night.

"You okay, champ?" She asked, gently ruffling Flora's soft brown hair as the girl sat down. "You're a strong girl, aren't you? Showed that stupid glitter it's place."

You giggled at the way she spoke, covering your mouth with your hand to hide it. It was ridiculously obvious that Clarisse thought the kids in the art class were like family, and it was genuinely so adorable.

Seeing her like this, curly hair pulled back in her red bandanna, arms splattered with paint here and there, with glitter shining off her smooth caramel skin with every movement she made into the light, lit up something inside of you. Seeing her without her usual scowl, pulling funny faces with the kids as she showed them how to draw a monster, made your heart beat twice as fast.

However, two weeks went by with heartbreaking speed, and before she knew it, she was in Chiron's office, listening to him gleefully say she was officially un-grounded.

But honestly? She didn't share his happiness.

Nor did you.

"What?! Already!?" You exclaimed that evening as you sat in your cabin at your desk, which had plans put out for what to make for the next art class.

"Yeah," she grumbled, lounging on your bed. "I hate it."

"That's rough, but it's okay, you can always hop in to volunteer,"

"What do we tell the little ones?"

"The truth?"

"You're fucking crazy if you think they'll go with it,"

"I'm out of options, Clar," you leaned back in your chair and put your hands over your eyes. "I love that class, and I love teaching art."

"I know, and as much as I hate to admit it," she sat up. "So do I."

The very next day, Clarisse rushed to Chiron and begged him to let her stay for that class. Even going to lengths that she told him how she felt for you.

"Fine," he relented. "You can stay with the class for as long as you'd like,"

She'd never run to the forges to find a kid so fast.

"Beckendorf!" She exclaimed, looking at the cabin counselor. "Hey, where's Dennis?"

The boy looked around, and his eyes landed on Dennis, who was inquisitively watching one of his half-sisters mold a few practice swords, helping occasionally with putting the swords in water.

"Dennis!" Beckendorf exclaimed, "Clarisse wants to talk to you!"

Dennis immediately ran over, grinning broadly, showing his gap-toothed smile. "Hi, Clarisse!" He said, excitedly.

"Hey there, big boy!" She smiled back, giving him a high five. "So listen, I'm going to need your insane artistic skills and your help..."

While you did help the other kids make a 'goodbye' sign for Clarisse, on the side you decided to confront your feelings.

You knew you liked her from the beginning, from when you first saw her infectious smile, from when you heard her deep laugh reverberating through the empty Apollo cabin on days where you both would plan lessons.

She held the key to your heart, she knew her way past your walls. She clearly also knew how to remain in your thoughts, subconscious and conscious, to the point where you found yourself in the art studio, canvas on an easel before you.

Thoughts of her, of feeling her coarse, battle-worn hands on your skin, of gazing into those deep brown eyes which were like the colour of the rain-kissed earth, and when she fought were like the evening sun, golden enough to put the wings of Icarus to shame, made your paintbrush move. It made your colours flow like the blood in your veins, made each stroke perfect enough to create the scene you most desired on the canvas in front of you.

You stepped back once you felt the need to express yourself flow away, gazing at the canvas. A scene it held, and what a scene indeed. The sky was cornflower blue, a cloudless day, with the sun’s rays shining down on a big oak tree. The leaves were paler as the golden light kissed the surface, casting sharp shadows on the pillowy grass.

But then there was vivid orange and red, a flash of bronze. In the foreground there sat both you and Clarisse, the latter having more detail than any part of the drawing.

Then the dreaded day came where you all had to say goodbye to her.

The little ones were devastated, not letting Clarisse go anywhere without following her around like baby ducklings, making her explain to them that she's not going away from camp, she's just not going to teach them anymore.

At the end of the final class, just as everyone unveiled the 'we'll miss you' poster, she and Dennis revealed their 'I'm Staying' poster, causing a loud, thunderous cheer to erupt from all of you.

Later, you pulled her aside to give her your canvas painting.

Nerves wracked your body, your palms began to sweat.

When was the last time you had felt this nervous? It was probably your cello recital the day you had come to camp...

"Holy shit, Y/n this looks absolutely amazing!" Clarisse exclaimed, taking the painting in her hands.

She didn't miss the detail you had given her, drawing her angelically, despite her thinking she was the opposite. It was so well done that the brush strokes weren't even visible.

Please get the message, you blockheaded, oblivious fool...you thought.

Deciding to act against your nerves, you asked her in a shaky voice, "That's a painting of us on a date...would you like to go on one with me sometime?"

Clarisse's heart stopped. Had you just asked her out on a date?

She was at a loss for words, they didn't touch her tongue, nor did they pass her lips. She stood there, speechless, gaping at you for a moment too long.

"I mean, I get it, you're probably not even a les--" you began, but a pair of gentle lips on yours silenced your words.

Sparks flew, butterflies went haywire, your brain short-circuited. You didn't know what to doo, just stood there frozen with shock. Kissing the girl you had liked for the last few months now.

Clarisse, however, was ecstatic. Her mind was a burst of colour, her body was ablaze. She felt like she had wings, and her heart was taking her up, up, up.

Once she pulled away, she winked at your blushing face and dopey grin.

"It's a date, L/n."

hi, it's me! lea! i hope you enjoyed this long overdue oneshot <3 requests are open via dms or asks!

#clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse la rue fluff #clarisse x reader #clarisse la rue #x fem!reader #first request #requested #pjo #percy jackson and the olympians #you got an artist inside you #fluff imagine

[liyawritesss]

-> 𝚕𝚘𝚊𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚌𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚏𝚒𝚕𝚎...

-> 𝚌𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚏𝚒𝚕𝚎 𝚕𝚘𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚜𝚞𝚌𝚌𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚏𝚞𝚕𝚕𝚢!

-> 𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚌𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚏𝚒𝚕𝚎, 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚒𝚝....

-> 𝚌𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚏𝚒𝚕𝚎 𝚜𝚞𝚌𝚌𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚏𝚞𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚍! 𝚠𝚎𝚕𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚘...

𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗: 𝚋𝚛𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚎𝚢𝚎𝚜 !

—> OVERVIEW

—> The death of Bruce Wayne has shaken the city of Gotham to its core. His presence defined the very city he vouched for for years, and while many mourned the death of one of the city’s highest elites, no pain could be compared to that of (y/n)’s, eldest daughter and heir to the Wayne Family. The beloved father-daughter duo were the saving grace of Gotham City; Bruce pouring his attention into politics, social and criminal justice and technology, and (y/n) strongly advocating for the arts, social change and socio-economical and political reform. With tragedy in the air and crime running amuck in the streets, what will become of the brilliant and beautiful (y/n) Wayne amidst the turmoil within her city, within her family, and within her own heart?

—> OBJECTIVES

—> (y/n) has not spoken since arriving at the Belfry. She spends her days reminiscing on the times when Bruce was alive, holding on to what little memories she has. Much of her memories are stored in the gifts Bruce had given her over the years, as well as moments the family has shared together. Your task is to retrieve these objects from across Gotham and unlock core memories of the heiress’s childhood with the Wayne family, in hopes to restoring (y/n) back to her original self.

CHOOSE YOUR ROUTE

MAIN STORYLINE

NIGHTWING | RED HOOD | ROBIN | BATGIRL

ADDITIONAL ROUTES UNLOCKED

ALFRED PENNYWORTH | BRUCE WAYNE

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​🇷​​🇪​​🇱​​🇮​​🇻​​🇪​ ​🇹​​🇭​​🇪​ ​🇲​​🇪​​🇲​​🇴​​🇷​​🇮​​🇪​​🇸​

​ 🇪​​🇽​​🇵​​🇪​​🇷​​🇮​​🇪​​🇳​​🇨​​🇪​ ​🇹​​🇭​​🇪​ ​🇱​​🇮​​🇫​​🇪​ ​🇴​​🇫​

​🇬​​🇴​​🇹​​🇭​​🇦​​🇲​’​🇸​ ​🇩​​🇦​​🇷​​🇱​​🇮​​🇳​​🇬​

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🇨​​🇱​​🇮​​🇨​​🇰​ ​ 🇾​​🇴​​🇺​​🇷​ ​ 🇷​​🇴​​🇺​​🇹​​🇪​ ​🇹​​🇴​ ​ 🇵​​🇱​​🇦​​🇾​

​🇳​​🇴​​🇼​

⚠️This Series Will Contain: canon-accurate violence with weapons such as guns, knives, batons, customized batman gear and other vigilante gear, hand to hand combat, mentions of blood, injuries, heavy talk about grief, depression, anxiety, major character death (bruce wayne/batman). Readers discretion is advised.

Tag List: @punkeropercyjackson @insomniac-jay @neesieiumz @honeypotsworld @honeybleed @hellkaiserinphoenix @saintriots @agent-nobody-knows @badass-dora-milaje @sincerelyzee @anuttellaa

#black reader #black tumblr #black dc #dc comics #dc games #dc batfam #dc bruce wayne #dc batman #dc nightwing #dc red hood #dc robin #dc batgirl #gotham knights #batman gotham knights #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson #jason todd x reader #jason todd #tim drake #tim drake x reader #barbara gordon #barbara gordon x reader #gotham knights bruce wayne #gotham knights batman #gotham knights dick grayson #gotham knights jason todd #gotham knights tim drake #gotham knights barbara gordon

[naffeclipse]

I absolutely adore every AU you come up with, but I was actually curious if you had already or were considering writing a traditional DCAxReader? Hopefully I can kick this art block soon because there is so much fanart I want to draw of your stories :) Hope your week is going well! (besides the roof disaster ^^;;;)

On another note... AUs are my brainrot and I keep thinking about that post about the large bed... and spoopy ghosts. Clipgeist? No running away from something that can follow you to the ends of the Earth. Poor Y/Ns just can't catch a break lol

I have a few canon stories with the DCA x Reader on my Ao3 but nothing as grand or long as my AUs! I do have a 'canon' story plotted but I don't know when I'll write it. Hopefully one day!

Ah, that's so exciting! I hope you can chisel that art block down hehe 

It's going good (aside from the roof ;-;) I have this week of school before we go on break for Thanksgiving and it can't come soon enough!

Shaking your hand so hard rn!! I love AUs! And a spooky ghost one? Oh ho, I've always wanted to write a domestic monster scenario!

Perhaps Y/N moves into an old, old house with steep roofs, pointed arches above the windows and doors, and a lovely porch. It's two and a half stories tall (the half story is attic space under the roof rafters) with a four-story central spired tower! All dark wood and even darker interiors. You can't desire if it's Dracula's castle or a fairytale home for the happily ever-after-ed prince and princess. It's even got a secret underground tunnel! What more do you need when flipping a home? You love restoration and you intend to keep all its gothic charm while updating it to be, well, livable.

It's also incredibly cheap! Like, stupid cheap, for something that should be incredibly pricey for its prestige style and historical value. Not that you've ever looked a gift horse in the mouth, but even you have second thoughts before ultimately snatching up the house key.

The first night is always unsettling—maybe you hear a voice whisper in your ear despite it being dead silent and there's not a soul for miles, but you'll brush that off as getting spooked by old ghost stories your brain conjures up within the ornate decorated rooms.

From there, things get stranger and stranger still. Your paintbrush is moved and you know you didn't set it there because of the wet paint dripping onto the floor. The electricity is ever fickle, turning off at the most opportune moments during the night, like when you swear you saw a figure standing at the end of the hallway, all thin and scraggly with a ghostly smile and an inhuman head framed with wavering energy that almost seems to glow like embers in the dark!

Still, you continue your repairs and restorations, sometimes softly talking to yourself out loud and talking to the house like it's a wounded animal you intend to restore back to its fittest with all the love you can pour out of your heart. Places need love, too.

The most obnoxious thing is that you can't access the tower—the door is always locked, and no matter what key you try, it refuses to budge. You don't dare risk causing damage by prying it open, but you swear you'll get into that tower one day. There's got to be treasure inside with how mysteriously it stands, just out of your reach. Though, you've mostly put it aside for now. Whenever you jingle keys in the lock, you swear you hear a voice grow angry with you, and the hallway becomes so cold you can see your breath.

So, yeah, you're saving that for later.

The pivotal moment of you even considering a haunting is one night when you find yourself overwhelmed and stressed from the ever-growing list of chores and how everything is falling apart faster than you can fix it. You dissolve on the living room floor into thick tears. You're usually so put together, even when alone. You hate crying. There's no one to hold you together except yourself, so why fall apart in the first place?

Your little moment of getting it out is interrupted when a quilt falls over your shoulders. A soft, heavy quilt of midnight skies and dotted pale blue stars that was never in this room.

You leap to your feet, quilt falling away, and call out in classic horror victim fashion, "Who's there?" but no one answers. In frozen terror, you stare at the room, expecting something, anything to jump out or scream at you, but it's so, so quiet. All is still, like apologetic comfort.

That couldn't have happened. No draft, no forgetfulness could explain how a quilt was draped over you as if by a concerned friend.

You stare at the quilt and decide that you've had a long day. You go to your room, unable to relax even once you're under the covers, feeling something cold and misty above your bed.

When you wake in the morning, that starry quilt is draped over your lying form. You did not put it there.

Something or someone else tucked it around you.

#haunting au #ghost!eclipse #clipgeist is so *mwah* #anyways what goes bump in the night but a haunting specter that may or may not vie for your affection #just don't go into the tower #hei-z-sky #naff writing

[mouschiwrites]

Creepypasta/MH - Taking a Break With Them

Characters: Jeff the Killer, Nina the Killer, Clockwork, Jane the Killer, Eyeless Jack, Tim/Masky

Jeff the Killer

I doubt he'd remind you to take breaks

The closest he'll get to this is when he needs a break himself and decides to coerce invite you to join him

He likes to unwind with high-energy activities

Literally just chases animals in the woods sometimes

He's crazy fast, too, so he might even catch them

When he's done he'll feel quite restored

Unlike you, probably

"Ah, that was so refreshing!"

"I almost got lost like, five times! How are you that fast?"

On the rare occasion that he wants to do something more chill, or if he lets you pick what to do on your break, it's probably because he just got back from something more high-energy

He's game for most things when this happens

Movie? Sure. Painting nails? He'll take black or red. Just eating a bag of Cheetos in silence? Why not.

The only thing he refuses to do regardless of his exhaustion is take a bath

He HATES baths..... He finds them to be boring and a misuse of time

Plus he doesn't really notice smells (good or bad) anymore, so "nice" soaps are sort of wasted on him

Nina the Killer

Her way of making sure you take breaks is to invite you to take one with her

Even if she doesn't need one, if she thinks you need a rest, she'll step in to help out

Self-care is her go-to

Face masks, manicures/pedicures, hair brushing, makeup...

All while watching the most horrific splatterpunk movie you've ever seen in your life

She thinks it's cute if you get scared or grossed out

Meanwhile she's just smiling broadly to herself while she watches the gore scenes intently

She'll take a lot of pictures of you both as well

"Smile for the cam, Y/n!"

"Ack, no! I look like the green goblin with this mask on!"

"Aww, no you don't! Come on, show off your nails, too!"

She'll treasure those photos forever

Once your masks are off and your nails are dry, you guys entangle your limbs as you cuddle on the couch

If it's late at night, you'll probably end up falling asleep together

If this happens, Nina is definitely sneaking a few more pictures of you sleeping

Clockwork

Though she's not the best about taking breaks herself, when she does take a break it's really nice

She'll come and find you first, asking if you need a break too

She won't force you if you say no

But if you say yes, she'll find a quiet spot for you guys to sit together

She'll get some snacks and drinks and art supplies

While she sets up, you get to pick the music

She won't want to talk while she takes a break, so you'll be needing that music unless you like silence

You'll just sit together for a long time, each of you engulfed in whatever you're doing

She'll offer you supplies, but if you don't want to do art, she doesn't care

You can really do whatever you want as long as it's quiet

And no work allowed!! If it's break time, she doesn't even want you to think about work

If she notices you getting distracted, looking at the door or the clock or something, she'll glare at you until you get back to relaxing

"Hey. Get back to your thing."

"But my deadline..."

"No! Relaxation time. Now relax."

Once you both finish your leisurely activity, she'll let you get back to work if you really need to

Though she'd also just like to sit in silence together, maybe holding hands while you look out the window

Just prolonging your time together as long as you can

Jane the Killer

Likes to go on walks to take a break

She might not always invite you if she needs one, but will force you to come along if she thinks you need one

Prefers nature walks, but walking through the city is fine too

She likes to window shop when she does go on city walks

Might end up buying a little something as a treat

“Those croissants smell pretty good… should we go get a couple?”

“I was beginning to think you wouldn’t ask.”

When she goes on nature walks, she packs snacks

She'll walk slowly, but when she finds a nice spot she'll stop and break out the snacks

Also likes to engage in conversation while she walks

Just idle things, nothing too deep or serious

This is supposed to be a break; she doesn't want to be working her brain harder than she needs to

Might play some music when you guys find your resting spot

If it’s really nice out, she might sprawl out and take a little nap

Eyeless Jack

His breaks are more quiet

Not just in the sense that they’re relaxed, but he’s very subtle in discerning when a “break” begins

Like, he’ll just stand up and walk away without a word

You can choose to follow him if you want (he’d appreciate it)

He likes to make hot drinks when he’s trying to unwind

Even if he doesn’t like such things anymore, he finds the process of preparing them to be very relaxing

He’ll be overjoyed if you’re there to drink whatever he makes

Helps him feel less wasteful; or at least not obligated to try and drink it

It’s actually remarkably tasty

If nothing else, you might follow him to go on a break just to get the delicious drink

He doesn’t talk much, he enjoys the silence

Will hold your hand, gently brushing his thumb over your knuckles while you sit together

If you want to tell him about your day or something else non-consequential, he’ll listen

Just as long as it’s not a topic that reminds him of work/responsibilities

Won’t offer much in terms of responses though

Tim/Masky

He struggles to recognize when he needs a break

Usually he just pushes on until he crashes

When he does crash, he’ll just do absolutely nothing for several hours

Not sleeping, not watching TV, literally just collapsed on a chair, staring at the floor/ceiling

Will appreciate cuddles if you find him like that

Don’t expect him to talk though

Honestly you’ll have to be the one to initiate breaks

He likes to go on walks or do something calming to help unwind

Even domestic tasks are calming to him in comparison to his usual work, so you guys might just end up doing a chore together

Folding clothes, doing the dishes, something like that

And of course you’ve got music playing

Or you’re talking about some mundane topic

Exciting topics aren’t very relaxing, so you stick to comfy small talk

“Did you see the sign in front of the diner? They’re open till midnight now.”

“Hm. I wonder why. Maybe they’re trying to compete with the McDonalds across the street.”

It’s sort of a hassle to make sure he takes breaks, but once you get him on one, he’s usually rather pleasant and will thank you when it’s over

But if he’s too stressed about his work he’ll flat out refuse to give it up for one second

Thank you for reading!! Have a good one superstars <33

(divider by saradika)

#creepypasta #creepypasta x reader #creepypasta headcanons #nina the killer #nina the killer x reader #jeff the killer #jeff the killer x reader #jane the killer #jane the killer x reader #clockwork #clockwork x reader #eyeless jack #eyeless jack x reader #tim wright #tim wright x reader #masky x reader #marble hornets x reader

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Rsa vs Nrc

Riddle vs Alex ( twst Alice Leddle )

Crewel daughter and Riddle are together in town and talking about something they both can relate, as in art and history and Crewel stay closed to Riddle

Malleus + Disomia vs Price Phillips ( twst of that price from sleeping beauty)

Crewel daughter invited Malleus and his friends/bodyguards as she needs help as she have a client of a foreign land to asked to restore agroot ( decorative gargoyle) and needed his help on stone materials that are uncommonly used and she feels very uncomfortable around the human prince for obvious reasons

Idia vs Heracles ( twst of Heracles)

Crewel daughter and Idia are getting some new video games to play together ( legs say Crewle daughter is a secretly a gamer and otaku because y not? ) And she is off putting with Idia cousin and prefer to hangout with the recluse as he's more interesting to be around

RSA vs NRC w/ Crewel Daughter | Yandere Twisted Wonderland

Riddle Rosehearts vs Alix Lidwelle

“As the rules state: on the designated day we shall be in attendance of the latest additions of Art in all of Twisted Wonderland.”

“And as the rules state: on the designated day we will devote are time to one another and our enjoyment to Art!” 

This is the closest Riddle equates to being a fan of anything

Its one thing to have a textbook based knowledge on images

Than to be with (Y/n) Crewel as she tilts her head at world renowned paintings

“Based.”

“Based? Why?”

“I don’t like the vibe I’m getting.”

There was nothing he loved more than looking at art with you

So much so that he even made it a rule that you two travel to different art museums together

If anything this was his day

That is until he sealed the deal…but until then this a thing

Our thing 

Now its almost ruined when the blonde comes skipping in you two’s direction

“What’ya guys doing?”

He can explain or rather you can since the student isn’t even looking at him to answer

“We are carrying out a tradition that we have done for years.”

“Tradition? That sounds..kindof boring? But you can join me for some tea if you want a break at least.”

“Tea but it isn’t even ti-”

“Come on (Y/n)!! Besides why would you want to follow the rules on a lovely day like this?”

HOW DARE HE!?

If his respect for the arts and your non reaction he would have lit the blonde on fire

Better yet behead that arrogant, stupid, idiotic–

“No. I enjoy traditions and its a shame you don’t seem to respect that.”

“W-what?!”

“Come on Riddle we have seven hours left on our ticket. Let’s not waste anymore time.”

“I agree.”

Riddle delights in the red that over takes Alix’s cheeks

And the stomping feet as he prepares to throw a tantrum

The prefect sticks a tongue out from behind your back

Smirking as he offers his arm

“Shall we commence on our adventure on the designated day?”

“As the rules state it, we shall.”

Malleus Draconia vs Prince Paul w/ Restoration Crewel Daughter Reader

You are quieter soul 

Opting to work in the silence as you restore and refurbish antiques

That’s probably why you get nervous about accepting a job at the Royal Sword Academy

So you bring support 

And who better than the one fae who enjoys gargoyles and you+

So you’ll invite him with you and he’s glowing with happiness

An invitation!

From his beloved no less 

You selfishly are quite grateful that he’s a people deterrent

Able to work on your work in peace 

That is until Paul comes

“The sound of such lovely sounds!”

“W-what?”

“Ah, and a beauty is the maker! You’ve entranced me with your sounds–”

“Sir, I don’t really–”

“But alas I have yet to introduce myself! Woe is me! The me being Paul Phillip, it has been to long since I–”

“Oh and your just going to keep talking, great.”

But leave it to your resident guard dragon to swoop in and save you

“Ah the Prince of Briar Valley what a surprise to see you here!”

“My mate…friend is uncomfortable with your presence.”

“But she hasn’t-”

“Go now.”

Be sure to convince him not to go full dragon on him

Smile and thank him 

And he’s happy 

Gargoyles, (Y/n), crushing his rivals, and courting (Y/n)

Its all the great and good times

Now you know you can trust him to protect you

Lilia says that will be enough to proves you

Aww and he was looking forward to deliver a blooody head

Idia Shroud vs Huckman  

You’re no gamer 

But your naturally skilled at everything you touch 

A perfect accessory to Idia’s high-level for multikills 

“You have three hours to beat the level, Idia don’t waste it shuddering in the corner.”

“Y-Y-YES MISTRESS!”

Once he gets in his groove your plowing through 

And since your actually lasor focused on the game

You don’t notice the way he focuses on your features

Just inches away the lips he’d dreamed of being graced with touch at the very least was so close

If he could just pretend to–

SLAM

“Whoops sorry cousin about your door.”

“Noooooooooooooo!!!!!!”

“Quiet! I’m nearly there!”

He’ll play possum as his cousin insistently shakes him

“Hey i know your not actually dead. Idia? Idia?”

Its you that intervenes making his heart go: Doki doki!

“Retriever boy leave for now I’ll deal with you later. I need him in peak condition for the next hour I’ve granted him.”

He snaps to your side immediately

Keeping his eyes glued to the screen as his cousin let’s himself out

"T-thanks!"

Now which tech-terror will he send to make sure ‘later’ never happens

#yandere NRC vs RSA #yandere x reader #lovelyyandereaddictionpoint #yandere x you #yanderexrea #yandere #yanderes #yandere harem #yandere twisted wonderland #yanderes x crewel daughter reader #yanderes x reader #yandere idia shroud x reader #yandere idia #yandere idia x reader #yandere alois #yandere malleus draconia #yandere malleus x reader #yandere malleus #yandere riddle roseheart x reader #yandere riddle x reader #yandere riddle rosehearts #yandere riddle #yandere RSA #crewel daughter reader #yanderes crewel daughter

[itsabouttimex2]

How would the platonic yandere Demon Bull Family react to a reader who, unlike Redson, did not grow up with a strong connection to the family or love for them? reader can be loyal to them but usually acts indifferently when it comes to "family love" and sometimes refuses to call Princess Iron Fan "mother" and Demon Bull King "father" but instead calling them "king" and "queen" would also be the same thing to Redson, with respect but like the others two doesn't want to call him "brother"

Fiery Reunion: Part One

(Part One) (Part Two)

“This is your father,” Princess Iron Fan says to you, her voice thick with devotion and love. “Restored to us after centuries of oblivion. How long I have waited for this moment…”

That’s right. It has been a long time, hasn’t it? For all your life, your mother and brother have had one single motivation pushing them forward- find a way to save your father.

Technically, you could say that your goal was one and the same. You’ve been helping them all throughout your life, after all. But even though you’ve shared centuries with them, fighting for the very same man…

You just can’t bring yourself to be as passionate about saving him as they are.

“This is your father,” Princess Iron Fan has to say, because you were barely beyond infancy when he rose against Sun Wukong and was struck down and buried under a mountain for his crimes.

You’re sat on the ground, staring up at him with wide eyes. After having stumbled backwards and fallen to the floor in surprise and fear at the sight of him, you now stay there, gaping at the tremendous demon before you.

Your father, the terrifying Demon Bull King casts a hard gaze to your cowering form, raising an eyebrow.

“So the youngest of my children… has grown up. I had assumed the worst when I did not see them at my prison. Tell me, my love- have they become a powerful warrior for the Bull clan?”

He’s talking like you aren’t even here. Maybe that’s to be expected, given that you were barely a toddler when he was imprisoned and sealed away for hundreds of years. It’s not like he’s ever spoken to you.

Maybe it’s fitting punishment for not remembering the man your mother and brother adore. No matter how unreasonable the feeling is, you can’t stop hating yourself for something so far beyond your control.

“My love, Y/N is a skilled alchemist… they’ve proven their worth many times over. I’ve brought them here to restore your broken horn- and the rest of your body, while they’re at it.” She turns to you, her gaze growing determined. “I will have a troop of Bull Clones assigned to your command. Use them to procure whatever you need to create-“

“That’s alright,” you say quite confidently, interrupting her. “I have all I need to restore him to full health. I’ll only need two, to help me with my cauldron.”

The irritation from being interrupted by one of her children quickly dissipates, her creased brow and frown replaced with a satisfied smirk.

“Wonderful,” she breathes out, grinning from ear to ear. “I’ll leave you to it then.”

You politely bow to her, then to your father.

“If you would follow me, my king?”

He pauses to raise an eyebrow at how you’ve addressed him, but shrugs it off and walks along after you.

(He’s your father, he wants to say. He didn’t come back after hundreds of years to be addressed so formally/coldly by his own flesh and blood. But he’ll let it slide… you just need some time to adjust, perhaps.)

———————————————————————

“A room dedicated to the alchemical arts, I see… and you’ve quite the collection of rare and valuable specimens. Then you will be able to restore me in short order, I take it?”

You reach out to reposition a small pot of glowing crimson star-shaped flowers, shifting it out of the way and leading your father deeper into your room. Two Bull Clones stand uniformly still against the back wall, ready to assist at a moments notice. Really, you only use them when you need a cauldron continuously stirred or heavy ingredients relocated. If you need petals plucked or seeds stripped, you do that delicate work with your own two hands.

“I have dedicated myself to the herbal arts. With the right supplies, there is little I cannot do, my king.”

“Good. It seems you have grown useful in my absence, little one.”

You briefly stagger at his words, unfamiliar to your ears and so, so very strange to hear.

Promptly you compose yourself and grab a well-worn ladder, leaning it against one of your many shelves. Before you can start to climb it, DBK reaches up to grab the glass canister you need. After lifting it close to his eye for examination, he holds it just out of your reach.

“What do you need lotus seed oil for? How will this restore my body to health?”

(And is it dangerous for you? He might just have to take a look through this room of your and confiscate anything you could hurt yourself with.)

“My king, the oil is merely a catalyst- it will allow my other ingredients to mix together properly without interfering with the alchemical process they’ll undergo.”

He allows you to have the canister, watching as you pour nearly a gallon of the oil into an ancient cauldron, emblazoned with glowing sigils. You keep a firm grip on the delicate glass, holding it firmly and slowly pouring the oil-

Then the door to your room opens with a slam, Red Son’s foot leaving a notable crack running through it.

You drop the canister in shock, flooding the cauldron with far more oil than any recipe would need. Grabbing a clean rag in a huff, you turn and shoot him a displeased look, just in time for to see him lunging for you.

He snags you by the shoulders and shakes you back and forth as he yells, “Have your brains taken a vacation, Y/N?! You aren’t supposed to work alone! You know that you’re not allowed to play with your little cauldron if mother or I aren’t with you!”

You push his hands away, pointing up at your father to prove that you aren’t alone in here, that you aren’t breaking any of the frankly unnecessary rules set that he and your mother have set into place for you.

He takes one look at your father, the goes right back to yelling at you for not telling him you’d be using the cauldron anyways.

(A nostalgic pang resounds in Demon Bull King’s chest as he watches the two of you squabble. Before he had been sealed away, you and your brother had been a child and young teen respectively. He had missed so much…)

When he snaps back to his senses, you are on your knees, carefully ladling the excess oil back into the now slippery glass container you had fished out of the cauldron with a rag. Red Son stands over you, frowning as you do.

“Why don’t you just get a Bull Clone to do this for you, Y/N? Even they could do it more efficiently. And you’d be able to prepare more of the elixir-“

“I hate to be disrespectful, my prin-“

“Brother,” he seethes, dark and low. “I am your brother, do you understand me?”

“Y-yes, brother.”

“Now, explain yourself… and do it clearly, little sibling. I don’t have time for any nonsense.”

“The Bull Clones don’t have the precision or gentle touch required to handle my plants and containers. Last time I tried to set them to such a task, I had to relegate them to sweeping up glass instead.”

“Tsk. I’ll make some minute adjustments on two or three of them for you. Perhaps reduce their grip strength and increase their joint dexterity… don’t do anything stupid while I’m gone, Y/N.”

Red Son turns and leaves, and to your surprise, your father goes with him, leaving you alone to finish your work.

Just barely, you hear your father’s voice from the hall, low and hushed.

“You seem… to be quite ‘adept’ with your sibling.”

Somehow, you feel that this doesn’t bode well for the future.

#Platonic Yandere #Yandere Lego Monkie Kid #Yandere LMK #Yandere Demon Bull King #Demon Bull King #Yandere Princess Iron Fan #Princess Iron Fan #Yandere Red Son #Red Son #Yandere Father #Yandere Mother #Yandere Brother #Edited #Fixed the second to last line to be more in character

[solar-wing]

⚣ Magical Lessons in Ass-Whooping ☀️

⚣☀️ A/N → If you remember, this was like a snippet out of a story I was going to write for Conner x an original character. Haven't decided if I'm going to continue it, but I definitely want to write my scenarios and shots like this. Hope you guys enjoy it for those reading the first time and even those reading a second! WARNINGS: Canon-Typical Violence, Tension, Implied homewrecking

⚣☀️ Summary → Considering you've spent your entire life learning and studying magic from the moment you could utter your first words, it'd make sense for you to eventually start teaching and helping others. Especially those who are currently providing you refuge as things back home are a bit dangerous. But, one of them is going to learn that our knowledge is not just limited to thaumaturgy and the arcane. 'Talk shit, get hit' is a global phenomenon.

⚣☀️ Words → 2.8k

REBLOGS & replies are greatly appreciated, please! 💛

⚣ ENJOY ☀️

��And just make sure to control your breathing…you got it!” You cheered.

A bright glimmer enveloped the room as little wisps of light started appearing around the room, forming tiny butterflies. You’d been helping Zatanna train and master her magic while also teaching her some new tricks. 

You hailed from a hidden kingdom, created from a divine gift bestowed on to your ancestor from the powerful deity linked to the sun. This power continued to pass on to their descendants, every eldest child in your bloodline blessed with the power of our solar system’s star, making you and your ancestors some of the most powerful beings to live in existence.

It was a heavy responsibility, bearing the mantle of the ‘Child of the Sun,’ being able to control such a potent and raw energy inside you. From the moment you were old enough to even say your first words, you’d been in magical training and studies to ensure your mastery of your powers. You could blast bad guys and restore an entire city with your magic by the time you were five years old.

And now, you were teaching others!

“Oh my god, I actually got it! Thanks, Y/N.” Zatanna cheered, wrapping you around in a hug.

You returned it joyfully before separating, “It’s as I mentioned previously, magic is special to us all. It lives all around and inside us. Everybody has their own individual sense of magic. Some just know and are better at channeling it than others.” You explained.

“Oh, I get it! Like a magical DNA print,” M’Gann summarized. She and Artemis were standing to the side watching the lesson you were giving Zatanna, both wanting to learn more about the mystic arts.

You smiled at the Martian’s words, nodding your head, “Exactly! Magic forms differently in everyone and changes itself as we grow and change ourselves. That’s why it’s important to find your source and learn how to connect it with a strong emotional foundation, and boom… You’ve got magic.”

Your hands glowed as you raised them to the air, a bright spot at the top of the cave forming that shined like the sun before bursting, releasing dancing rays of light swept across the room along with the little wisps of butterflies.

“So, what’s your source? If you don’t mind me asking,” Artemis inquired as the magic dissipated.

“Not at all,” You replied with a smile, “Well, obviously, being the whole ‘Child of the Sun’ thing, my source centers around that, the Sun and its solar energy.” You waved one of your hands, a light trail tailing behind as you summoned a bright illusion of your solar system’s central star.

The girls had to cover their eyes a little bit since even as a magical illusion, it still hurt their eyes. It felt so real, it was almost as if it was generating its own heat as well, warming the air around them.

“Ooh, like Superman?” M’Gann asked.

“Close, but not exactly. My source is the sun, so my magic manifests and channels itself as pure light granting me the enhancements and abilities that come with being, well, ‘light.’ Superman relies more on the radiation from its solar energy, another ability I may possess,” You answered.

Your new friends paused at that, “Wait, huh? What do you mean?” Artemis asked.

You considered for a moment if you should share this information as it was technically confidential and only privy to those of the royal family and their most trusted attendants. You figured there couldn’t be any harm in sharing this bit of information as it wasn’t like it could spell the end of the world or anything.

“A group of royal scholars and sorcerers have dedicated themselves to studying the magic and power behind the Children of the Sun since my great-grandfather’s reign. They’ve studied its different forms and how it’s moved down my family’s line over generations, noting its different strengths and weaknesses. They’ve also cataloged the different abilities it creates over time,” You explained, the teammates hanging off your every word.

“One of the scholars recently made a discovery that linked solar radiation with one of the spells I learned as a kid that can create daylight at night. When they discovered this connection, they explored more on the topic, finding that many of my spells and powers also give off their own form of radiation similar to the sun’s solar radiation. It’s led them to theorize that my ancestors and I may possibly have the ability to utilize the sun’s radiation to our advantage.”

“Wait, you’re saying you can manipulate solar radiation?! Does that mean you could take down Superman if you wanted to?” Zatanna asked.

You smiled at their surprised faces, “I’m not sure since it’s a new theory and will take time to study. Plus, I’ve never actually tried before. Hopefully, I never have to. At least with that kind of scenario,” You responded.

“Never have to what?”

You and the girls turned around to see the other guys coming down the hall, assumingly having entered the base from the ‘front door’ as M’Gann likes to call it. Conner looked at the girls and you with his arms crossed, his usual deadpan expression sitting on his face as he waited for an answer.

“Where did you guys go?” Zatanna asked, ignoring his question as Dick, Wally, and Kaldur made their way to the center of the training floor, Conner standing a little further back.

“We had a little team outing with just us guys. Hope you ladies weren’t too bored without us.” Wally smirked.

“We weren’t, as a matter of fact. We had Y/N here to keep us company since you all apparently didn’t want to include him on your little guy’s trip,” Artemis replied with her own smug smile.

“Oh really, what did you do? Sit around and do rain dances to call on the Lords of Make-Believe?”

“Wally,” Kaldur scolded.

“What?” He questioned, seeing how everyone was giving him unimpressed looks, “You all know I still don’t buy into this magical woo-hah babble. I’m a man of science who believes at the end of everything, there’s always a logical explanation.”

You raised an eyebrow. 

“Oh really,” Your face growing a mischievous smile. “So, can you explain how we’re all fully clothed and you’re standing in your underwear right now?” Everyone missed the slight glow in your irises as you cast your magic in your head.

Wally looked confused before he looked down and realized he was standing only in his underwear, his clothes vanished into thin air with his heart and rainbow-colored boxers on display for everyone.

“What the- Y/N!” He shouted before running off, his face burning red as a tomato while your friends laughed.

Artemis had her hands to her stomach before wiping away a fake tear, “Oh, that was more entertaining than anything I’ve seen in my life. Thank you for that, Y/N,” She grinned.

You gave a mock salute with two fingers while everyone was still laughing when Wally came back, now dressed in a new outfit. Everyone except Conner, who held a glare on his face that you could tell was in your direction. For whatever reason, you didn’t know and chose not to care.

“Why didn’t you invite Y/N on your outing if it was just for guys?” M’Gann asked.

“Because it was a team outing, and despite rumors to the contrary, Y/N is not on the team,” Conner voiced with an indifferent tone.

Your friends all frowned at Conner, not appreciating his sudden attitude toward you. Even Wally looked surprised by his little outburst while Zatanna spoke up in your defense.

“Well, that seems stupid. I wasn’t on the team yet when M’Gann invited me to your school’s Halloween dance. Why should Y/N be any different?” She remarked, crossing her arms. M’Gann nodded in support, her face signaling her disapproval of her boyfriend’s actions.

“We didn’t really think about that. It was more of a decision on the spot when Wally expressed his desire for a bite to eat,” Kaldur explained, with a genuine tone of regret in his posture before turning to face your direction, bowing his head. “My apologies, your Royal Highness. We meant no offense.”

“Speak for yourself,” You heard Conner mutter under his breath.

You ignored it, focusing back on your friend. “Ah, don’t worry about it, Kal. I had fun training here with the girls anyway. And I told you, it’s just Y/N. I’m not the Prince of Amun here, just a regular guy who happens to be bunking with you.” You said. Kaldur smiled in return, appreciating your forgiveness.

“Yeah, a regular guy who needs attendants waiting on him and personal guards always watching his behind,” You heard another snide comment from Conner, who was looking at the two guards standing by the opening to one of the hallways leading into the cave. Your patience also vanished into thin air by this point.

“Conner, that’s enough!” Kaldur ordered, but you were fed up.

“Is there something you need to get off your chest? You’ve been acting pissy with me since I got here, and I’ve had just about enough of it,” You snapped at the Kryptonian.

“Oh, the oh-so-regal prince actually has a backbone? Please…” Conner said, deeming you not worth his time.

“Yeah, the oh-so-regal has a backbone and will happily whoop your ass with it,” You called out after him.

The room went quiet, M’Gann now looking worried as Conner turned around to face you, a jeering expression now on his face.

“Oh really? You’ll ‘whoop my ass,’ huh? Tell me how exactly you plan to do that. With a little song and dance? A show of special effects and illusions. Or will you use your little guards in their shiny armor to fight for you? I could take them and you down without lifting my pinky toe.” He teased, slowly walking towards you until he was standing in your personal space, his arms crossed against his wide chest.

You didn’t have to turn around and see how Atlas and Samar, your two guards in mention, were standing at attention, more than ready to disprove Superboy’s insults. You raised your hands silently, signaling them to stand down. You could take care of yourself.

“Hmm, you may be right about that,” You replied calmly. Everyone except Atlas and Samar looked taken aback at your words. Conner still held a cheeky smirk, even though you could spot his somewhat quizzical look behind his eyes. “So, I’m sure you stand ready to prove it then.”

“Ooooo…” Artemis said, ever the instigator.

“Someone’s getting called out! Whatcha gonna do?” Wally shouted, joining in with the archer.

Though he appeared unphased by your friend's teasing, he considered your words, “Fine, you’re on.” He answered.

A devious smile appeared across your lips, your guards looking at you with knowing grins. Everyone cleared off the combat circle as Kaldur loaded up the sparring protocols. You and Conner stood on opposite sides of the training floor, waiting for Kal’s signal.

“This isn’t going to end well, is it?” You heard Dick ask on the side.

“Nope.” Zatanna said.

The floor brightened beneath you as Kaldur started the program, signaling it was ready.

“Who are you betting on?” Wally asked.

“Oh, Y/N 100%,” Artemis replied.

“I’ll bet you $20 bucks Conner beats Y/N in 15 seconds flat.”

“Hmm, $40 bucks says Y/N knocks out Conner in 10.”

“Deal.” Wally agreed, shaking on it.

M’Gann stood next to Kaldur, watching her boyfriend with a chagrined look. She wasn’t happy with his behavior, becoming suspicious since the team’s mission to Liza during your kingdom’s anniversary celebration and your birthday, leading to your temporary move to Happy Harbor in the Cave after rebels made an attempt on your life.

“Hope I don’t end up as the focus of your next album after this. Though, it’d be nice to say someone’s writing songs about me, even if it’s angry ones.” Conner mocked.

“Oooh, good one Con!” Wally cheered, Artemis rolling her eyes with a scoff.

You didn’t respond, letting him have his fun. You were about to make him eat his words anyway.

“Begin,” Kal said.

You stood in your spot, waiting for Conner to make his move. He cracked his knuckles before charging at you with his usual loud grunt. You side-stepped his attack, leaning and turning on your back foot while swinging your other foot around into his back, sending him flying only to land on his face. Even though he landed outside the battle ring, an interface popped up that spelled his name, and next to it, read the word ‘FAILED’ in red.

“HAH! That’ll be $40 bucks,  please.”

You heard Zatanna and Dick clapping behind you while Kal just gave you a nod of approval.

“Looks like you lifted more than your pinky toe. I’m sure you can do better than that tough guy,” You taunted, hearing Atlas and Samar snickering on the side.

Conner pushed himself off the ground, grumbling in frustration before turning around. He huffed in anger before his grimace turned into another smug grin, “Cute. They teach you that in etiquette class?” He mocked. 

You returned your own playful smile, “No, actually, Atlas taught me that during one of our combat lessons. You could learn a thing or two from him. Your form is terrible,” You remarked.

You heard the others laughing behind you, Conner’s face going red before he brushed past you, bumping your shoulders, “Let’s go again.” He stated.

“If you insist.”

When Kal signaled to go again, you chose now to charge at Conner, faking him out when he swung at your left. You ducked under his fist, bringing your body down before sticking your leg out to swipe him from under. He fell back against the ground with a grunt, the interface popping up again next to his face announcing his quick failure.

“Samar taught me that one. Hmm, are you sure you’re good at this? Quite frankly, I was expecting more.” You said while standing over him, hands held at your side.

You reset again for a third round. You amused yourself, allowing Conner to believe he was holding out for a bit before you ducked under his fist again, standing back up behind him, pushing your hands on his back to shove him forward.

He almost lost his balance but managed to stay up. 

He turned around to see you waving your fingers at him in a teasing manner. He charged at you again while swinging his arms together to trap you in a bear hug. When he got his arms around you, your body broke apart like shattered glass, dissipating into the air. 

Conner looked confused until he heard you ‘Yoo-hoo’ behind him, turning to see you launching at him with another kick across the face. He fell to the ground, the interface once again signaling his defeat.

He growled in anger before he looked up to see you standing over him again, “If it makes you feel better, I’ll let you get a hit in.”

He huffed before grabbing your ankle, yanking it out from under you, making you fall on your butt. The interface popped up next to you with your name now signaling the word ‘FAILED.’

“How was that?” His cheeky smile returned.

“Cute. They teach you that in anger management?”

Conner looked confused, “I don’t go to anger management.”

“Clearly.” You responded.

The others expected Conner to blow up at you (the boy did need anger management), but to everyone’s shock, he just smiled at you. Before standing up and reaching his hand down to help you up.

You stared at his hand for a moment before taking it, letting him pull you up to the ground.

You both stared at each other for a bit with no words said until you heard a throat clearing beside you, realizing the team was still here. Artemis smiled knowingly at you while Dick, & Zatanna looked uneasy. Kal scratched the back of his head awkwardly while Wally looked confused. M’Gann held a sullen expression on her face, clearly not happy.

You felt heat come up your face before clearing your throat, “I’m gonna head to the beach to do some meditation. See you guys later.” You said before turning away, your body vanishing in a flash of light. Conner looked confused when he saw you disappear, not understanding what happened. He saw Atlas and Samar shaking their heads at him before heading down the hall towards the garage exit to catch up with you. Still not getting what happened, he turned to see his friends giving him sour looks causing him to frown in return.

“What!”

☀️ | Conner Kent/Superboy | ☀️

☀️ | Masterlists | ☀️

#solar-wing ☀️ #☀️🪽.fanfic #☀️🪽.dcposts #☀️🪽.txt #gay #dc #dcu #dcau #dc imagine #dc fanfic #dc comics #dc universe #x reader #x male reader #young justice #young justice imagine #conner kent #conner kent imagine #conner kent x reader #conner kent x male reader #conner kent x m!reader #superboy #superboy imagine #superboy x reader #superboy x male reader #superboy x m!reader

[hungrywriter]

Herbs & Hearts (pt.1)

Raiden x f!reader

Raiden and Kung Lao entered Madam Bo's restaurant, instantly greeted by a delightful medley of sweet and savoury smells emanating from the kitchen where Madam Bo worked her culinary magic. They were welcomed by the owner herself, who guided them to their usual table, the spot where they often hung out.

As usual, they playfully argued over who would be picking up the tab for their meal. After this spirited exchange, they stood up in an open area to engage in a friendly martial arts match. Their battle was intense, but in the end, Kung Lao emerged as the winner. His celebration, however, led to an accident when he bumped into a waiter carrying a bowl of noodles, causing the food to go airborne.

The whole restaurant fell silent, anticipating a mess, but from the kitchen, a figure swiftly emerged, wearing a farmer's hat and the familiar restaurant's apron. With incredible dexterity, this person skillfully caught the flying food and restored it to the tray, as if the accident never occurred. The customers, initially holding their breath, broke into applause. The restaurant quickly returned to its usual bustling activity, with the incident soon forgotten.

Raiden and Kung Lao couldn't contain their curiosity and approached the mysterious saviour. When the figure looked up, they immediately recognized her as Y/n, their childhood friend. Y/n was the adopted daughter of Madam Bo, the chef of the restaurant. Madam Bo had found Y/n as a baby, abandoned at her doorstep with nothing but a tattered cloth to protect her frail body. There were stories circulating that suggested divine intervention, as some believed that gods had descended from the heavens to save her. These tales led some superstitious parents in the neighbourhood to warn their children to be cautious around Y/n, fearing that they might inadvertently offend these mysterious deities and bring about a curse.

However, it was only Raiden who immediately welcomed Y/n as a friend. Kung Lao, on the other hand, needed some convincing, but as the years passed, he too grew to love Y/n, not only as a friend but also for her exceptional fighting skills. The trio grew up together and trained martial arts under Madam Bo, forging a strong and enduring bond.

Y/n smiled at them and continued serving customers. The two friends couldn't contain their joy and embraced Y/n. The boys were aware of Y/n's deep passion for plants and her fascination with studying various herbs. She was often found in her room, conducting experiments and nurturing her own herbs. This love for botanical pursuits led her to embark on journeys in search of herbs that she insisted couldn't be found in the village.

Initially, the boys expressed concern and offered to accompany her on these trips, but Y/n politely declined their assistance. Madam Bo, too, advised them not to accompany Y/n, encouraging her independence. In order to avoid upsetting the wise elder woman, the boys eventually accepted and let Y/n pursue her herb-hunting adventures on her own.

"Y/n, when did you come back? We've missed you!" Kung Lao said, affectionately pinching her cheeks. The female laughed at his actions and put her hands over his to get him away from her cheeks. 

"I got back this morning. Mother told me to rest, but you know I can't just sit still for too long," Y/n replied as she picked up a tray of food from the kitchen and resumed serving the customers, with the boys trailing behind her. As she went about her tasks, Raiden couldn't help but notice the bandage on her left foot and her slight limp when she walked.

"What happened to your foot?" he inquired. Setting the food on a table, Y/n turned to face them, a touch perplexed at first, but then realising what he was referring to.

"Oh, I just ran into a bit of trouble during my journey," she nonchalantly shrugged. However, seeing their worried expressions, she swiftly reassured them that she had managed the situation. Kung Lao offered a hearty chuckle and cheered for her, while Raiden could only shake his head, sighing in concern.

Y/n felt a slight disappointment in his reaction, but her spirits lifted when he smiled at her. He gently placed his hand on her shoulder and pulled her close to his chest.

"Well, as long as you come back in one piece, love petal," he whispered, kissing her head. Y/n returned the hug and turned her head away to hide the growing blush on her face. Kung Lao let out an exaggerated scoff and rolled his eyes before heading back to their table. The duo then parted ways and joined each other at their table, ready to relish their meal and dive into a conversation about Y/n's recent adventures.

#mk raiden #raiden x reader #mortal kombat x reader #mortal kombat 1 2023 #mk1 x reader #kung lao

[i-hate-accidents]

Would you ever consider writing the conversation Anthony had with Benedict in his bedchamber? When he scolded Ben for being alone with Y/N?

the author would like to share that upon reading your message, they immediately said, out loud, to no one but for herself to hear, "that is a BRILLIANT idea." she offers many thanks for your idea and your generosity in sharing it. <3

𝄆 ⚘ ✸ ✕ ✸ ⚘ 𝄇

i hate accidents: a drabble

femme!reader x benedict bridgerton, femme!reader & the bridgerton family, femme!reader & penelope featherington

summary:  the adventures of a working class femme who befriends a fellow writer, a boisterous family, and a bewitching second eldest son

sections:  I. the beginning / II. the between / III. the ball

y/n:  bipoc, she/her, afab, nonbinary femme, queer, working class, of immigrant parents

content warnings:  brief description of grief from losing a parent

word count:  623

author’s note:  the character of y/n, whilst heavily talked about, does not appear in this drabble. the author hopes you enjoy these bickering brothers~

𝄆 ⚘ ✸ ✕ ✸ ⚘ 𝄇

anthony turns towards him, quiet fury simmering in his eyes.

"brother," begins benedict, "i—"

"have you lost your fucking mind!" booms anthony.

"if you just let me explain—"

"have you compromised y/n?"

"what!"

"i said!  have you compromised y/n!"

"how can you even insinuate that!  of course i have not!"

"and why should i trust what you say?"

"because i am your brother!"

"precisely!  you are my brother!  you lie to me as naturally as you breathe!"

that is something, benedict admits to himself, i cannot deny.

"well!  i have no reason to lie now!" he declares aloud.

"and you expect me to believe that?  when i saw your mouth and her mouth mere breaths away from one another?"

lightning shoots throughout benedict’s body and butterflies erupt in his stomach at the memory.  the two of you were, indeed, mere breaths away from—— from—

"see," anthony interrupts, "you have nothing to say.  are you finally admitting to your guilt?"

"we were discussing my art!  that is all!"

"i am not a fool, benedict!"

"you look like one!"

"and you act like one! alone! in your bedchamber! with a lady!  our friend!  how do you think our family will react when they hear of your impropriety?"

"you make it sound as if this were some, some— devious scheme!"

anthony shakes his head.

"brother, i know you are in love with y/n—"

it would have been kinder if anthony shot him point blank in his chest.

benedict gapes at him, but his brother merely responds with an expression that makes him feel like a naive child.

"benedict, please.  your affection for y/n is deeply apparent to everyone in this house. mother, kate, our siblings, the servants, penelope.  good god, francesca, daph, and hastings even know, and they are not even here. you," anthony states simply, "are in love."

"i have not said anything of the sort!"

"so what do you mean to say? that you do not love y/n?"

benedict freezes. he feels the swell of his heart and its collapsing all in a mere breath.

of course i do.  of course i love y/n.

he swallows.

"it matters not what i feel.  it matters what she deserves."

y/n deserves someone good.  someone who will not hurt her.  someone who is not me.

anthony’s face softens, and it would be an expression that would be kind if benedict didn’t feel as though he was on the receiving end of its pity.  still, it reassures him.  anthony’s gentleness seemed to have passed when their father had.  it seemed to no longer have existed as a possibility within him; and then kate entered their lives.  whenever he sees evidence of its restoration, benedict cannot help but feel gratitude—even, as in this moment, at the cost of his own pain.

anthony sighs.

"did you two have to be in your bedchamber?"

benedict rolls his eyes.

"this is where all my art is!  but it shan't happen again."

"oh, that i will make certain."

he furrows his eyebrows.

"what is that supposed to mean?"

"did you truly think i would let you get away with this indiscretion?  you have completely disgraced y/n!"

"nothing!  happened!"

"bedchamber!  together!  ALONE!" anthony checks his pocket watch and, with its closing, resumes a dignified composure.  "i am done with this conversation.  we have kept y/n waiting long enough.  we must go to her promptly, offer our deepest apologies, and ensure that she is safe and well after this event.  we will be most fortunate, indeed, if she chooses to absolve us from your transgression."

benedict puts his hands over his face.  of all the people in the world, why did his elder brother have to be anthony bridgerton?

𝄆 ⚘ ✸ ✕ ✸ ⚘ 𝄇

#bridgerton #benedict bridgerton #anthony bridgerton #benedict bridgerton fanfiction #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton x you #benedict bridgerton x y/n #benedict bridgerton imagine #benedict bridgerton fluff #benedict bridgerton angst #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton x you #bridgerton x y/n #penelope featherington #kate sharma #colin bridgerton #eloise bridgerton #gregory bridgerton #hyacinth bridgerton #violet bridgerton #replies

[betweenblackberrybranches]

Okay look there is probably not going to be any art today so here look at rlgl au Y/Ns apartment a background i threw together for a smol Moon comic im making to restore the balance between rlgl Sun- and Moon simps

And yes Y/N has a poster of "big naturals Gandalf" on their wall! They are cool like that!

#my art #rlgl au #look its gonna be cute #also slightly disturbing #i want that poster of big naturals gandalf for my flat #tw suggestive #i guess???

[orphicrose]

The Co-Host (Alastor x FemReader) VII

< >

Summary: You are Alastors Co host in life, perhaps more. But are separated by a sudden death. When you are finally reunited in the under world, it is up to Alastor to figure out why you don’t remember him.

Warnings ! ! Mentions of Death and Bl00D

@cannibalcoyote @kahlan170 @sugxryratz @multifandom-superlover

--------------------------------------

Satan had left a very clear message, a warning that slacking will kill those that y/n cares for. The two had sat there for close to an hour, holding each other. Not knowing how to move forward. At some point they moved off the floor, and Alastor had pulled up a chair for y/n. Taking it upon himself to clean the messes of corpses littering the once lively office. Documents of clients stray everywhere and desks turned over, laid out over pools of crimson. Alastor waved his hand and in spawned a group of little demons from the pits below, rushing around like a cleaning crew to restore the building to it's former glory. Covering the scene of the crime like it had never happened. 

Y/n sat there, staring out into space and clutching at her arms. Nails digging into her skin. "Miss l/n" Alastors hand carefully placed on her shoulder. "Maybe we should get you home?"

She looked up at him, wide eyed, for the first time since this happened. Rage slowly filling the bloodshot whites in her face, almost scaring the deer. "This is my fault" she scanned the room around her, reliving the first time she had walked in. " This is all because i sold my stupid soul to the devil. I never should have let that green eyed bitch into my life" She mumbled to herself. 

Alastor remained silent, forcing her up by her shoulders. "Lets get you out of here, today is a sick day"

"If i don't start getting those souls to him, he will do worse. Alastor, i can't leave" Her voice was pleading, desperate. She fell to her knees, grabbing at any documents she could. Scanning through the files like a computer. "I need to catch up. I can't lose anyone else"

Alastor sensed that sentence came from a deeper place, one she wasn't conscious of. He had also realized there was no convincing her out of this. Her only escape was to be ridded of her owner, but that was another impossible task. Before he had the chance to get another word in, he was suffocated by a mass of purple mist. When it cleared, she was gone. Evaporated into the atoms of the air. He let out a gentle sigh, frustrated with his lack of options or ideas. 

Perhaps there was information he could gather on her, find out why she had erased her own memory. There must be some way he can help. It was a good starting point nonetheless. 

Her home was relatively far from the constrictions of her job, way outside of the city. Living life similarly to a cowboy. Her home had links to her passed life, radios scattered in every room and a record player as the mantle piece above her familiar fire. Life was littered around her home, perfectly displaying her as a person. Trinkets she had collected on display, colorful art work painting the walls. And hundreds and hundreds of diaries hidden around her room like subconscious clues to who she used to be. In most of the journals, little doodles. From when she was bored, to when she first landed in hell. A good way to pass the time. And in others, entries about little encounters she had. Like an inanimate therapist. Interesting, he thought.

He made his way through the house slowly, taking in every little detail he could find. Like a detective. But nothing seemed to give him a clue as to why she erased everything, even her entries. They were so simple and innocent, describing silly things like her funny looking regulars at her first job at the night club. 

 Above her bed sat a delicately painted picture of a small buck, being hunted by a man. It caught his eye, the colours bold. Unlike everything else in the house, it was crookedly placed. Intrigued, he pulled the frame from the wall, revealing a small hole carved into the wood. There, sat a small mahogany box. Hand carved with intricate patterns and smelling like an old furniture store. Obviously, he opened it. Sat on the bed with it in his lap. Inside was well kept documents, leaflets and a tiny journal stuffed at the bottom. 

Again, pages and pages of doodles and innocent entries. Mostly about her first experiences in hell. This must mean something to be this well hidden. No one apart from her usually enters this home, so who was she hiding it from if it wasn't herself. Then his fingers stopped at a page, eyes glimmering with hope as he read the first few words. 

"I was finally haunted with the presence of satan today" he mumbled to himself, reading the curved handwriting. Finger following the line he was on. "He found me. I knew this day would come but not this soon. I was a stupid teen, once upon a time. I only with i could say i was like every other stupid teen but i was worse. Life was hard, and instead of working for what i wanted, i cheated. I made a deal with the devil. My soul in return for power, for fame. And now, because of my greed, i will be stuck for eternity in this ses pit. Doing to others what he did to me. I cannot hate myself enough for it. What would he think of you, y/n? What would your mother think of you." The entry went on for another three pages, cursing herself out for the damned deal she made. Alastor had enough, setting aside the box. Holding back tears for the first time since he had lost her. 

Part of him was relieved that it wasn't because of him. But a part of him was eating away, telling him everything was a lie. Everything was set up, it was never supposed to happen. She forced her hand and got everything she wished for, while he worked for it. But he could care less about that, if he was honest. Everyone did what they needed to during that time, to survive. She wasn't a bad person, she was a human. 

But what made it worse, she never knew of the atrocities he had committed. She died believing he was a good man, and forgot about his existence before she could find out who he was. How would he ever break that to her. How could he break her curse, and wake her up to the painful truth. The truth that he was a monster through and through. The old y/n died, believing in her heart, that he would be up there protecting her mother. How would he ever come back from that.

Tears welled in his eyes, refusing to let the, spill onto his cheek as he looked up. His shadow by his side, attempting to offer a sincere hand to his shoulder with a sad look in his face. 

"What have I done, old friend?"

Over a hundred souls claimed in less than an hour must have been a new record for y/n, poofing in and out of existence like a gene. She was exhausted, black rings circling her eyes as her body began to slow. Not properly grieving anything that she had lost, ever. A voice in the back of her head screaming at her to slow down, but she ignored it. Making up the numbers as best as she could. Hours passed by before she knew it, managing to break a daily number. If only she had a team to celebrate with. She never realized it at the time, but she truly cared about a vast majority of her staff. Regretting how poorly she treated them at times, she had to stop. She needed to think. Just a second to gather her thoughts. 

The door to her empty home slammed behind her, everything as she left it.  Her body fell to her bed like a brick. legs flying up like a cartoon before landing on the bed. Finally being able to breath. Blood had hardened around the tips of her nails from the morning, not being able to shake that feeling of loss. So many thoughts and feelings suffocating the demon, till her eyes hit something stray on her floor. Tucked under her bed as if to hide. Something she didn't recognize. A small leaflet. On the front, a photo of her with a younger gentle man. His eyes matching the brown on his hair, and his slim nose supporting a pair of hand crafter glasses. She didn't remember ever taking this photo, so why was it here. What made it stranger, her skin had colour to it and her hair looked alive. This was not in hell. 

The title read "Tune in to 'Alastor and his Co-host, speak easy night!". 'Alastor' she thought, picturing the tall red deer. Then looking again at the handsome man in the photo, how uncanny it was. They looked far to similar. She gripped her head as if in pain, as if she was trying to suppress what she had been keeping a secret from herself for far too long. Her mind went back years, to when she first obtained power. Just before she had forced herself into amnesia. 

There was a night where her heart missed him too much to go on. She needed to see him. Y/n figured that with her new ability to form on earth, it wouldn't hurt to check in on him. His home was empty in the night, strange. But it wasn't uncommon for him to visit the radio tower when he was thinking. Her body materialized into his room, falling into the trap of crying uncontrollably when his scent hit her nose for the first time in a long time. Suffocated with her need for his touch. But he couldn't see her. She didn't want to scare him.

Wondering around the empty house, she reveled in their memories together. Collecting some trinkets to keep with her in the afterlife. Like a few of his jumpers, he wouldn't notice, a small polaroid photo of the two which she would later lose; and a leaflet. She was surprised to find it casually lying on his dining room table. Since it was an advertisement for one of their first broadcasts years ago. She spent her time staring at his face, missing that darling smile, when the door slammed in the distance. His familiar footsteps crawling closer and closer. Y/n was desperate to see him one more time, hiding behind the pantry door. Leaving a small crack to get a good view of her love. 

In he walked, brown hair glowing with specks of red, which trailed down and had stained his once white shirt. Sleeves rolled up like he had been sweating, but his body shaking as if he was cold. That look of glee and innocence was gone, replaced with a psychotic charm. His smile one of a killer, not a idol. Y/n stood, confused and frightened. As if she was going to be a victim. Forgetting she could disappear whenever she pleased. 

"What have I done?" The man laughed, visually pleading with himself internally to stop. He was conflicted with his own mind. Like jekyl and hyde. This wasn't Alastor anymore. She didn't know who he was. But she knew she wished she never found out. 

Y/n sat in her bed, holding the leaflet. Hands shaking like they did that night. There was so many holes in her memories. She still didn't fully believe this was of her own memory, but something made up to scare her. What was her relationship to him, why does she feel so compelled to be by him. But so frightened of his name, of that image of him in her mind. Were they destined to meet in hell?

"I need to find him"

#fanfiction #alastor x reader #x reader #hazbin angel dust #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin husk #hazbin hotel charlie #hazbin alastor #alastor fluff #alastor angst #romance #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel fandom #hazbin lucifer #vivziepop #hazbin hotel theory #the co host

[stayyyyyyyyyyyy21]

RICH KIDS OF SK ( HYUNJIN X READER (Y/N) X BANG CHAN)

THE HWANG ART GALA

reader : part one part two, PART FOUR

TAGS: LOVE TRIANGLE, ANGST, BREAKUP, BETRAYAL

As Y/N dashed through the corridors of the college building, her heart pounding in her chest, she couldn't help but curse the chaotic night that had led to this mad rush. Wooyoung, I.N, and she had indulged in a bit too much alcohol and ended up bleaching their hair and wreaking havoc on Wooyoung's belongings. It took Felix's midnight rescue mission to restore some semblance of order, and by the time they settled down, the sun was already peering through the windows. After that they thought it will be fun to make tanghulu and make mukbang videos, and it was 8am by the time they were done.

So there she was, sprinting to class, desperately hoping to avoid any awkward encounters with Yeji and Hyunjin As she glanced back, she caught sight of another latecomer, a guy with curly hair and boba eyes, looking equally harried but undeniably attractive in his all-black ensemble.

Their eyes met, and without a word, he fell into step beside her. "Room 203?" he asked, his voice slightly breathless.

"Yeah," Y/N confirmed, relieved to have some company in her tardiness. "Let's stick together and minimize the scolding."

"By the way, I'm Bang Chan," he offered with a charming smile.

"Hey, I'm Seo Y/N," she replied, returning the smile as they found seats at the back of the room, accompanied by Bang Chan's friend Seungmin.

As they settled in, Y/N couldn't shake the feeling of Hyunjin's curious gaze from the middle row. What was that weird look about? She pondered, silently hoping that their morning wouldn't get any more eventful than it already had been. but a notification poped on her phone.

Teacher: "I think everyone understood what I am saying."

Y/N looked up as Seungmin cleared his throat, "Since you were not listening, you, me, and Bang Chan are partners for the first internal."

Y/N replied, "Oh, sorry, I had an emergency. Can you please give me a gist?"

Seungmin rolled his eyes, "We have to work together throughout the semester, basically work on a fake company and pitch ideas and all. You will get a mail today."

Seungmin added, "By the way, my name is Kim Seungmin."

Y/N replied, "My name is Seo Y/N."

Seungmin asked, "Are you Changbin's sister?"

Y/N confirmed, "Oh, yes."

Bang Chan chimed in, "You're Bin's sister?"

Seungmin teased, "Well, she has the same surname and dumb look on her face."

Y/N smiled, realizing what Seungmin implied, "Hey, I don't look dumb like Bin. But how do you guys know him?"

Bang Chan explained, "Oh, I met him through night music school."

Y/N puzzled, "Music school?"

Before she could ask anything, Hyunjin cleared his throat, and all three of them looked at him. He was with Yeji, holding hands.

Hyunjin semi-hugged Y/N, "I saved you a seat, you know. Now we both won't be on the same project, very good."

Y/N thought, "How can he be so normal?"

Y/N replied, "Haha, it's fine."

Hyunjin gave Bang Chan and Seungmin a look and asked Y/N in a hushed tone, "Are you fine with doing your project with them? I mean, it has 70 percent of your grade."

Seungmin jumped in, "You know we can hear you, Prince?" (He called him prince in a mocking way)

Y/N retorted, "Hey, Hyunjin, don't be rude. Besides, yes, they are Changbin's friends."

Hyunjin brushed it off, "Whatever," after giving Seungmin one last dirty look and continued, "Can't wait for today's after-party. It's been like so long since we last talked. Also, I need to talk to you. Do you want to ride with me and Yeji?"

Y/N immediately replied, "Oh, no, I am gonna stay back and talk with them about the project."

Hyunjin said, "Okay, see you later," and Yeji smiled at Y/N.

Y/N banged her head on the desk after Hyunjin left. Seungmin quipped, "If I was you, I would have the same reaction."

Y/N gave him a confused look, and Seungmin added, "I use Twitter too."

Y/N hid her face, groaning, "Ugh, this is so embarrassing. I want to die."

Bang Chan looked confused, "How do you know what is happening to her?"

Seungmin smirked, "I keep up with gossip sites."

Seungmin suggested, "Since we are working together, let's exchange our numbers." Later, all three of them exchanged numbers and had a decent conversation. Y/N found Seungmin extremely funny, especially when he was teasing Bang Chan about being old.

As they were laughing, Bang Chan removed his mask to take a sip of coffee, and Y/N swear the whole world stopped. He had dimples and very cute boba eyes, his eyes were so pretty you could see the innocence in them. He had perfect hair paired with perfect curly hair.

Seungmin joked, "Hey, earth to Y/N!" snapping her back to reality. Bang Chan looked at her in a concerning way, "Are you okay? You zoned out."

Y/N stuttered, "Oh yeah, by the way, what is the time?"

Seungmin checked his watch, "4:30."

Y/N exclaimed, "Shit, I am getting late! Guys, it was so nice talking to you. See you later!" and ran.

Bang Chan and Seungmin looked at each other, and Bang Chan asked, "So what happened to her?"

#hyunjin fanfic #hyunjin fake texts #hyunjin fluff #hyunjin #hyunjin angst #hyunjin au #stray kids au #hyunjin imagines #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin x y/n #hyunjin social media au #skz x reader #skz social media au #hyunjin smau #skz smau #hyunjin scenarios #hyunjin series #hyunjin romance #stray kids imagines #stray kids x reader #bang chan #hwang hyunjin #stray kids smut #bang chan x reader #bang chan smut #bang chan x reader smut #stray kids fake texts #skz fake texts #bang chan fake texts #skz fluff

[chronicbeans]

Wally Darling with a Restoration Project Reader (part 2)

You found a picture of the boi!

TW: Scopophobia/Eye Imagery

🗞️ Daniel gasps in excitement, shocking everyone in the little circle you made on Finn's living room floor. He shows everyone a picture that was restored by Amy, saying "Look! We finally have a picture of just Wally Darling! Nothing is obscuring him, either! We have a good idea of what exactly he looked like!"

🗞️ He passes it around, with you being the last to hold and look at it closely. A large blue pompadour, yellow skin, a colorful outfit made primarily of primary colors. He has a smile on his face, which isn't surprising, to be fair. He also doesn't have a nose, which you think makes him stand out a little bit more than he already does compared to the rest. Something seems off about his eyes, though... Not as though they were restored properly, just... Something.

🗞️ Amy speaks up, chuckling "He has big hair, like Julie! Maybe they are kinda like a duo? The big hair crew! There was a picture that mentions that he and Barnaby are best friends, though, right? So that little guess might be wrong." Finn nods "Yep. Wally and Barnaby are best friends. (Y/N), can I ask something? (Y/N)? Earth to (Y/N)!"

🗞️ You shake your head in shock, looking over to him. You didn't even notice he was speaking to you for a moment. "Yeah, Finn?" Finn shakes his head slightly, muttering with a playful chuckle "Always spacing out..." He then speaks up, looking at you with a serious expression "Well, I have noticed how your mom hasn't been acting too kindly about all this, especially after you mentioned it was to restore Welcome Home. Do you... Think she knows something? Maybe you can take that picture to her after we photograph it and put it on the website?"

🗞️"Oh! That... I am unsure. I'll show it to her. I just think she doesn't really like my hobby. She's someone who is very... I don't know... Traditional when it comes to jobs? Would that be the right term? You know, doesn't see art as a job, or writing, like I do. You get what I mean?" Amy cringes. "Oooh... Yeah, I get it. I get it. That sucks."

🗞️ Daniel perks up "You write, (Y/N)? I never knew that! Can you help out with the blog? You can write some of the stuff on it about the show. I would myself, but my written English isn't so good..." You tense up, only to nod "Okay... I don't really like my writing, though. Finn is making the blog, right? He can go over what I write." The group seemingly all agrees to it, before you leave to show your mom the picture.

🗞️ As you walk out to your car, you look at the picture, again. Those eyes... something is off. You just know it. You stare at it as you get into your car. You almost can't stop looking. You put your bag on top of the picture, feeling as though you'd just keep staring if you don't cover it.

🗞️ It's a very short drive. Your house is only a fifteen minute drive from Finn's. You go inside, hearing your mother call out from the kitchen "I see that you finally came back! Dinner is almost ready. Come, sit at the dinner table." You take off your coat and boots, walking over to the table and placing the picture on the table.

🗞️ Your mother walks in, placing a tray of food on the table. As she does so, she sees the picture. Her eyes widen as she asks "Sweetie, what is that?" You grin widely, explaining "Oh, it's Wally Darling, from Welcome Home! He's the main guy, I think. Why do you ask? Do you recognize him?"

🗞️ Her face suddenly morphs into a grimace. Her eyes are locked onto the picture as she speaks, her voice sharp "Why are you trying to find out about this Welcome Home nonsense? You'll never know exactly what came before it was forgotten! It's pointless! Even if you find out a lot, you'll never know it all! Why risk your life in search of a puzzle, which will inevitably still have missing pieces?"

🗞️ Your eyes widen "Risk my life? Mom, what are you talking about-?" She cuts you off "If I tell you too much, you'll simply be more intrigued! I know how you are, sweetie! I love you, I really do. I know how harsh I seem sometimes... but I am that way because I know that you will just wander into danger if I don't correct you! So just... stop with this nonsense!"

🗞️ She storms off, crying out "Just eat your food! I already ate, anyways! Don't bother me with this foolishness!" With that, you hear her slam the door to her room shut. The table is now left empty, besides you, the picture, and the dinner she made. You become lost in thought. Risk your life? Over a children's show? What an odd assumption to make over a little mystery. Why does she think that you would be put in danger if you continued searching?

🗞️ She said that if she told you too much, you'd be more intrigued. Well, she already failed. As much as you are now terrified of what could happen, you are still so much more intrigued about this mystery. Looking down at the picture of Wally, you make a silent promise to figure out more about this show, no matter what it takes.

#welcome home #welcome home arg #wally darling #wally darling x reader

[starstruckwillows]

♡ oh beautiful moon, such sorrow - r.l ♡

starstruckwillows 🂱

requested by @cheezeyfoodles 🌈 i sorta hate how i've written this but we move

teacher!remus lupin x gn!werewolf!reader, angst, hurt/comfort, purely platonic/paternal, mention of death and tiredness

professor lupin wonders if he's ruined your future

you didn't stay in the hospital wing anymore - it was too risky, having someone potentially see you in there every month; every full moon. someone would notice, someone would piece it together.

usually, you settled for your collection of potions. wolfsbane for before the full moon, healing for after, and something to keep you awake for the next school day.

sometimes, though, no potion could keep the wolf ripping into your skin and mind, pulling darkness from every corner of your brain and flushing it through your body.

that night was rough - both you and your professor awoke bloody and brusied in the shrieking shack the next morning. it had taken everything in you to drag yourself back to your dorm.

you trudged into defence against the dark arts feeling like death was wrapping it's achy arms around you in an awkwardly comforting embrace. the chill of the room sent a jolt through your cracking spine.

professor lupin did not chide you for not paying attention for the majority of the lesson. he did not berate the lack of work you did. he just tapped your desk as everyone packed up, lazy as it was last period, to indicate he wanted you to wait behind.

no explanations were exchanged between the two of you - the time for that had long since gone. particularly notable was that lupin had abandoned his constant apologies for the situation you were in. nothing could fix it, so there was no use giving into sleep repellant guilt.

"here." the teacher prompted, sliding a bar of chocolate across the desk to you. you accepted with a weak smile.

there was a beat where he took a breath, clearly wanting to ask you something, but deciding better of it.

you frowned, "what is it?"

"are you worried for your future?"

you pondered for a moment, the chocolate restoring a sense of comfort in your bones, before you answered honestly, "i don't know. i was, at first. but you're here, you're working, despite everything."

remus did not reply, and you knew he wasn't sure whether to believe you or not.

to be safe, you added, "if i turned out like you, professor, i wouldn't be sad about that."

in return, you received the tired smile you were all too familiar with, "thank you, y/n."

there was another pause in which you continued on with your chocolate, while he dug through his desk for something.

he produced a page of blank parchment, and you tilted your head, "what's that?"

"something i confiscated from harry. it's a... it's a guide me and my friends enchanted when we were at school."

you nodded; remus rarely spoke of his time at hogwarts, unless it was pertinent to aiding you with your lycanthropy. you had previously believed that was because it was a bitter time for him, but you begun to wonder if that wasn't the case as he continued.

"we decided to be nosy and cocky and... teenagers i suppose. it was easier to forget what i would face each month when we were together."

tentatively, you asked, "did any of them come back to teach at hogwarts?"

at first, you thought you'd crossed a line, and that the professor wasn't going to reply. but he did.

"no. only one... well, maybe two, made it through the war."

"oh."

no use in saying sorry. it didn't fix the past of the future. it wasn't the expression of empathy people thought it to be, in your humble opinion.

remus sighed, "it's harder to get through a full moon alone when your accustomed to being with others for so long. make sure that doesn't happen to you, y/n, appreciate any help but acknowledge it can't be permanent, no matter what promises are made. can you promise me that?"

you didn't quite understand his desperation, but you agreed regardless, "alright, i promise."

before you left his office, he gave you another record to listen to. it had become something of a weekly tradition for him to educate you on his era of music.

music was a pretty thing. to distract, to feel, to focus.

night had fallen as you returned to your dorm room again, the silver glow of the moon casting ghostly shadows across the others shuffling around and preparing for bed.

settling into your own, you sighed as your damaged body relaxed into the sheets.

from your position, you had a view of the moon, appearing almost full, but of course you knew it was waning now.

oh beautiful moon, the child in you thought, such sorrow for something so peaceful.

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