#his children are not quiet academics

[probablygayattorneys]

And she says this without even knowing that he will have the most balls to the fucking wall, no sense of self-preservation, absolutely batshit insane children London has ever seen!

#professor Layton and the Azran legacy #professor Layton #lucille layton #Alfendi Layton #Katrielle Layton #she says he’s a quiet academic #with the tendency to do wild and extraordinary things when the fancy takes him #his children are not quiet academics #and the fancy strikes them constantly #all the time #every moment they’re alive #queue takumi defense squad

[01zfan]

beanbag | l. sh & l. at

bestfriend!sohee + anton x bestfriend!reader | 6.1k words

after hearing yall wanted this i took a crack at my second threesome fic everrrrr hope you like :3

contains: smoking, high sex, threesomes

sohee and anton were never popular. they were quiet children and decided from a very young age that they would never try to become cool. they ended up finding humor in the times they were picked last for sports, bonding over they were ostracized by their peers. 

they met you the same way. a little girl playing by herself on the playground, her toys being her only friends. making friends was hard for anton and sohee, but it came naturally when they talked to you. before they knew it you guys were a trio, okay with being unpopular as long as you guys had eachother.

things didn’t start changing until junior high. you still weren’t sure how to describe it. all you knew was that you started the summer as an outcast but came back to school as someone everyone wanted to know. you made it into the good graces of the popular kids and teachers, becoming a class favorite. it wasn’t long until you were invited to outings every weekend, spending time with people outside of your small circle. 

anton and sohee changed too. anton hit a growth spurt that had him towering above his peers and sohee ended up joining clubs and focusing on academics. the three of you were no longer inseparable like you were as kids, but you remained by eachothers side. more times than not you found yourself hanging out with them over your new friends.

your popularity didn’t stop, even when you graduated. it was the summer now, everyone was trying to have as much fun as they could before leaving town to go to college. you had spent a majority of the summer at shitty pool parties and driving around aimlessly, trying to find out where the next shitty pool party would be. when you got a text from anton in your three-person groupchat that he wanted to hang out as a trio again you were over the moon. you were over at anton’s house in less than an hour, walking through his empty house down to the basement to your usual hangout.

sohee and anton were already there when you arrived. they were talking about something unimportant, the topic dropped the moment they heard you coming down the stairs. they got up and pulled you into a group hug, talking about how it’s been too long. you pulled away from them and took it in. already they had changed, looking like adults getting ready to go to college.

“congratulations on graduating,” you realized you haven’t seen them since the ceremony. “we actually did it.” 

anton and sohee both cheered, happy to have the years of school behind them. none of you knew what college would be like, and none of you knew what the next chapters of your lives would look like. all you three knew was that you would be experiencing it alone. for the first times in your lives you three wouldn’t be going to school together. it was daunting, and you truthfully wished it didn’t have to be that way. but now was the time to grow up and leave your childhood behind you. 

sohee and anton knew it too, that’s why they didn’t try to bring up the future too much. the past might've been to painful too. that's why they reached into their bags to pull out stashes of weed, talking about how they had to smoke it down before going off to college.

when the two revealed the entertainment for the night would be pre-rolled joints you were pleasantly surprised. you didn’t take anton or sohee as the type to partake in drugs, but the smile on their faces told you different. sohee brought paraphernalia of his own, hidden in the depths of his backpack. he expertly rolled another joint as anton lit his. 

when anton lit up in his basement you couldn’t control your expression. you were wide eyed and in shock, thinking about the kind of reaction anton’s parents would have if they came downstairs and smelled the weed. in a basement nonetheless, the smell would be trapped down there for days. even sohee looked surprised, thinking they would go out to the secluded garden to smoke. 

anton took in both of your faces before taking a quick hit. he stood up and you and sohee followed behind him, making your way towards the small window in the basement. sohee opened the egress window for anton and he blew out the smoke before handing the joint to sohee.

“i have all week to get the smell out of here, so don’t stress it.” anton said with a smile on his face.

that was all you and sohee needed. it wasn’t long before smoke clouds were loosely being pointed out the window, subsequently filling the basement with a haze. 

lighting two joints at once was an interesting choice, the three of you constantly passing two of them back and forth. the rotation was confusing, making all three of you giggle from the novelty of it all. there would be moments where someone would have both of the joints, taking a drag from both at the same time. you three stopped trying to blow the smoke out the window. your legs had gotten tired from standing, all three of you falling into the basement furniture and nodding to the music.

when the joints were done, your friends eyes had started to get low and bleary but you felt like you could keep going. the three of you all looked to eachother, trying to silently gauge how high everyone else was. sohee reached for his backpack. when sohee pulled out his bong it was like you guys were kids again. memories of coming over to anton’s house to play with a new toy filled your mind. the way you guys settled into the furniture was the same, all of you assuming your old positions. anton was nestled into the beanbag, sohee chose the beat up chair and you settled on the couch. not much had changed—the only difference was that you guys were gawking over sohee’s new glass bong instead of the nerdy things from your childhood. 

“how much?” anton asked quietly.

he was too afraid to hold it, only staring at it from afar. sohee had moved from his chair to sit close to anton, letting him have a better look. you moved down the couch, getting closer to the show and tell.

“i did mark’s work for the whole semester to get this.” sohee said.

he was proud of it, placing the bong in the light to show it refracting through the glass. the dark blue and clean blown glass splayed on the carpet in front of you guys. all of you were mesmerized, anton even taking a picture of the carpet for safe keeping. you three were like kids again, asking questions and holding it up to the light to see through it.

“should we use it?” sohee asked, eyebrows high looking at you and anton.

you and anton looked at eachother, and then you and sohee looked at anton. the looks were mischievous, waiting for someone to finally fold and say lets do it. you were the one that nodded your head first, reaching for anton’s weed so he’d get the hint as the designated bowl packer to get to work. anton was quick even though he was gentle with the bong, scared that he would break it. while anton did that sohee went upstairs, bringing down water and snacks for later.

when sohee returned the three of you settled into your huddle, getting ready to pass the bong around. sohee lit it for you first, the two of them watching with hooded eyes as you took it all in. you pulled out the bowl and passed it to sohee quickly, letting him breathe in the remainder of the smoke that was still in the neck of the bong. you lit it for anton after nearly coughing a lung out. 

by the time the weed in the bowl became ash, you were more than high. everything was moving slowly, and the lulling beat of the music made you feel like you were moving. anton and sohee were effected the same, setting the bong aside once they were done. 

anton was settled into the beanbag while you laid on your side on the carpet, nodding your head to the music. the three of you were silent, letting the weed take over to let your bodies fully relax. anton stretched his leg. out, playfully hitting your shoulder with his foot. you tilted your head to look at him, eyes low with a smile on his face.

“thanks for coming over.” anton said.

you nodded your head, playfully slapping his foot away.

“i wouldn’t miss this. besides i never see you guys anymore.” you say, sighing dramatically.

when you hear sohee scoff you look to him laying on the couch. you hit his knee, trying to get him to talk.

“got something you wanna say?” you ask.

sohee rubs his knee, before sinking more into the couch.

“you’re the one that’s too busy now to hang out with us.” sohee says.

you look to anton and he nods in agreement. he picks at his nails for a second before looking to you again.

“always hanging out with the popular kids.” anton says.

“even those annoying jocks” sohee agrees.

that’s when you get up and look at your two friends in surprise. they always seemed stuck to eachother like glue, where one went to other followed. hearing that they don’t hang out as much as they used to confused you. sohee leaned his head against the back of the couch and laughed.

“only because i’m trying to have fun before i go off to college.” you look back to the ceiling.

“what type of fun?” sohee asks.

you hit his knee again, and you can hear anton behind you hold back a laugh.

”wouldn’t you like to know, you little pervert.” you joke.

“we heard about you and that guy on the basketball team.” sohee tells you. 

“and what did you hear?” you ask.

when sohee is goes silent you look to anton. he tries so hard not to say anything, but when you move towards anton he caves immediately.

”we heard that you guys ya know,” anton looks to sohee and then to you. “did it.” anton says finally.

you just shake your head, trying not to show how embarrassed you are. you were so close to sealing the deal with eunseok, someone you found yourself pining after for the better half of the school year. but nothing came from it, putting you in the position of being someone with the bare minimum of experiences on your way to college.

“we didn’t do anything.” your hand starts mindlessly picking at the fabric of the couch. “cool that rumor spread though.” you say.

sohee comes down from the couch, a hand going to your shoulder to try and make you feel better. a smile is on his face as he shakes you gently, getting you to face him.

“it’s okay dude.” sohee points towards anton on the beanbag. “anton is still a virgin.” sohee says.

you laugh when you hear anton move from the beanbag to try and hit sohee. you end up leaning back to give anton the space but he misses sohee, only hitting a part of his shoulder.

while the two still argue, you go back to pickign at the carpet. you think about all the things you haven’t gotten to experience yet before leaving, some of the fun you’ve been missing out on. you look at sohee and anton, two of your bestest friends and your two confidants. you can stop yourself from clearing your throat and looking at the two of them.

“are you actually, anton?” you ask quietly.

anton and sohee pull away from their tussle to look at you.

“am i what?” anton asks.

“a virgin?” you answer.

instantly, you can see the blush on anton’s face. it starts on his neck and goes to his face in splotches, ending at his ears. you can even see sohee get a little red, the tips of his ears becoming rosy.

“not totally. there was that time after prom.” anton says.

he sounds far away, his hand scratching the back of his neck shyly. he ends his sentence with an awkard laugh when you nod your head sympathetically.

“i haven’t done that much either.” you say.

“me neither.” sohee says.

even though sohee and anton’s eyes go wide, it’s true. none of you had done anything besides heavy petting and making out with someone until your jaw started locking. none of you were nearly as well versed as your peers. you thought about going to college, how everyone there would be lightyears ahead of you in terms of intimacy. you look to your two bewildered friends. maybe if one of you guys made a move it that could change.

you shift from your spot on the carpet. anton and sohee instantly perk up, watching your every move. they see how you stand on your knees and clear your throat, suddenly so dry from nervousness and the weed. you put a slow hand on sohee’s knee, he follows your hand all the way up to your face. you look to sohee and then to anton. sohee looks to anton and then you. 

“do you think we can?” you ask outloud.

sohee nods while anton remains still on the beanbag. sohee doesn’t waste anytime looking at his friend before going behind you. sohee out of your line of sight makes all your attention go to anton. his face only gets redder as you slowly make your way over to him, guiding by sohee behind you.

you experimentally crawled over to anton on the beanbag, cautiously reaching out your hand. you let it rest on his thigh lightly, gliding your hand repeatedly over the small space. anton was still confused, his previously hooded eyes were stretched wide as he tried to figure out what was happening. sohee had gone behind you at some point, using gentle fingers to stretch the collar of your shirt to touch your neck and shoulder. 

sohee’s touches only egged you on, until your hands had gotten more desperate. you moved your other hand to anton’s thigh to move your hand lightly. when he looked at you and squirmed underneath your touch, you halted your movements.

“is this okay, anton?” sohee asked from behind you.

sohee was only half paying attention, asking the question between kisses on your neck and shoulder. but his question pulled you from your trance. you took your hands away, afraid that you had gone to far. but anton placed his hands over yours before nodding quickly. he brought them further up until they rested over his front pockets. the sudden movement brought you forward, causing sohee to press his body closer to yours.

you were face to face with anton now, breath fanning his face. you looked down at your hands only for a second—they were so close to touching his dick. the music that played on the basement speakers was long forgotten. the blood rushing through your ears and the sound of sohee’s lips against your skin was the only music you needed.

“if you won’t, switch places with me.” sohee said to anton.

that was all anton needed before bringing you closer to him. your noses touched first, pressing together until he timidly kissed you.

it was slow and the pacing was uneven, suddenly both of you were painfully aware that anton didn’t know what he was doing and you were out of practice. 

you brought a hand to anton’s chin to hold him in place while you silently guide him through kissing. you took your time, letting each kiss linger on his lips as you progressively deepened it. anton was a fast learner but shy; his grip of your triceps told you he wanted to take charge but was too nervous to do it. your mind quickly ran through the small list of girls that anton had talked about over the years. you don’t think any of his crushes led to anything more than hopeless pining. you know it’s true when anton starts whimpering into your mouth, so overwhelmed and sensitive just from you slowly kissing him. when he sticks his tongue in your mouth you suck on it, and his grip on your arm almost becomes bruising. sohee stops kissing your neck but you can feel his hand go down your back.

you don’t know if it’s the weed that makes you sloppy, but when you pull away from anton the lower part of his face is glossy from spit. you wipe your own face with the back of your hand when he reaches out a tongue to swipe over his already wet lips.

“sorry.” you say sheepishly.

”don’t apologize.” anton says.

anton is breathless, and when you look down you feel your own words leave you. he is straining in his jean shorts, the outline of his hard didck visible through the denim. sohee sees it too, laughing before kissing your neck again.

“he likes it.” sohee says from behind you.

you give anton another kiss on the lips and pull away fast. you revel in his eyes that are still closed when you pull away and how he brings his lips forward in efforts to follow you. 

anton’s eyes are still closed when you turn your body to face sohee. his lips are already wet, his hair pushed away from his face as he looks at you. sohee is bolder than anton, guiding your body onto the beanbag to sit in between anton’s legs. sohee doesn’t hesitate until your back is pressed against anton’s chest. you have to pull him in the same way you did anton, but your gentle hand starts shaking from the anticipation building all over you. 

seeing you nervous makes the playing field even. you keep a hand on sohee’s shoulder as he makes out with you, and you have a hand on anton’s thigh as he breathes heavily behind you. both of their hands are all over your body, sneaking underneath your shirt and grasping your chest. you feel their hands on your thighs, pushing and pulling you like tug-of-war. you can feel anton’s arm snake around your waist to keep you close.

sohee’s lips distract you and the weed makes you all three move in a daze. the sound of kissing and moving on the beanbag fills the air as your three clumsily make-out. there’s a moment where sohee tilts his head to the same side where anton kisses your neck. their forehead touch, and the two of them look at eachother simultaneously. while sohee is distracted, anton brings his hand that cups your chest over your shirt to tilt your head towards him. 

anton brings you in for another kiss, instantly putting his tongue in your mouth. sohee takes it in stride, going to suck on the parts anton couldn’t reach. sohee’s hands started knead your chest while anton starts feeling your sides. his hand that was holding your chin started covering the expanse of your neck. something inside of you almost wants him to squeeze, but there will be chances for that in the future. feeling anton’s large hand gently on your neck is more than enough.

both of their hands are rushed and both were testing out various kinds of pressure. you were experimenting yourself, purposefully moving your hips back to press your ass against anton’s dick while guiding sohee’s hands underneath your shirt. 

sohee took the extra step to pull your shirt over your head, forcing you to pull apart from anton. anton’s eyes lingered on your lips for a second before flickering down to stare at your bra. parts of your chest peaked over the top and spilled from the bottom from the movement. both sohee and anton’s eyes were only staring, not daring to reach a hand out to grasp you. you felt yourself melting underneath their gaze, letting your head fall back until it rested on anton’s shoulder.

“both of you touch me.” you spread your legs on the beanbag to allow sohee to come closer. “please.” you begged.

for the first time ever, anton made the first move. his hand that was pawing at your sides confidently grabbed a handful of your chest, squeezing your skin roughly. sohee followed suit, mirroring what his bestfriend was doing on the other side. you closed your eyes and leaned even further into anton’s broad chest, already overwhelmed by the feeling. you could feel anton’s strong and broad chest against your back and his twitching dick against your ass.

“you’re perfect.” anton whispered underneath his breath. 

you moaned to let anton know you heard him, and you moan again when sohee pulls your bra down by the straps to free your chest. he tweaks your nipple until you grasp his arm from the pain. anton presses soft kisses to your cheek while sohee pulls your bra down your body slowly. your breasts are free, and sohee hesitates only for a moment before latching his mouth to your nipple.

your back arches instantly into sohee’s mouth, and sohee places a hand on your back to support you. now sohee and anton are actively pulling your body in two different directions, making you bring your head up from anton’s shoulder.

“are you guys fighting over me right now?” you ask.

the weed makes all three of you giggle. the situation is insane, completely unlike all of your personalities to do this. your question serves as a buffer, forcing the three of you to really comprehend what is happening. your shirt is off and your bra is pulled down to your stomach, sohee’s lips are kissed swollen and anton is painfully hard in his jeans. 

you settle into the beanbag, placing hands on anton’s thighs as you steady yourself. you look at sohee, and then crane your head to look at anton. the two never took their hands off of you, touching you affectionately while you get comfortable.

“what do you want us to do?” anton asked.

sohee and anton’s hands found their way to your legs. they both press into your thigh and calves. when sohee tugs at the end of your pants you lift your hips.

“take my pants off.” you say.

sohee continues to pull at the end of your pants while anton makes work of the button on the top of your jeans. he’s quick, too quick that it causes him to fumble. you look back again to see anton staring at you, eyes sleepy and clown out. you try to mirror his look while your hands go over his wrists, forcing him to slow down. 

when your pants are off and you are left in just your panties, the two go back to feeling every part of your body. now you have the exposed skin of your thighs, soft and supple underneath their sluggish hands. the weed from the bond must’ve hit, making all of you more relaxed. you let out a shaky breath before going back to anton’s lips. anton is preoccupied, too busy pressing his fingers into your clothed heat. anton and sohee take turns, switching between smacking your waistband against your skin and spreading your legs further. when you feel your panties getting pushed to the side, you let out a hiss. you pull away from anton and look down at sohee between your legs.

“can i finger you?” sohee asks.

the straightforwardness has you feeling bashful. you nod your head, not being able to use words before anton brings you back to his lips.

anton sticks his otngue into your mouth the same time sohee puts a finger inside of you. you can only take what anton gives you, sloppy kisses that leave your face wet. all of your attention is put towards sohee’s pretty fingers that disappear into your cunt. the wet sounds of kissing and fingering fills the space of anton’s stuffy basement. you’re whining into anton’s mouth when sohee puts another finger in. anton pulls away from your lips, looking down at what sohee is doing to you.

“can i try?” anton asks.

he’s still sheepish, his hand doesn’t slink down your body until you nod your head. sohee kisses your stomach as he settles further down your body, not taking out his fingers. instead sohee only guides anton’s finger in with his when he pulls his digits out. you can’t stop yourself from clamping around the three fingers, all of you gasping at the feeling.

“so tight.” anton whispers.

“look.” sohee says.

neither of you are sure who he is talking to, but you both look down anyway. sohee puts his hand on anton’s wrist, stopping him from pumping his finger back in. the three of you look down at your cunt, closing in on nothing as it pulses like a heartbeat. anton’s dick twitches against your ass again as the three of you continue to watch. you get impatient, pinching their fingers together before wiggling your hips. the two get the hint, pumping their fingers back into your heat again. when they are still slow, you start guiding their fingers in and out of you at a faster pace.

“faster.” you whimper. 

the beanbag caused you to slip further down anton’s body. your head is just above his heart now, hearing it thud in his chest as he picks up the pace. when you dig your fingers into sohee’s bicep he hisses in pain, and you dig your other hand into anton’s thigh. neither of them stop, driven by the way your body shudders. they both have tunnelvision on the way you react to them, that they are caught by surprised when you wrap your legs around sohee. your legs bring him in close, and your arm reaches up to grab onto anton’s shoulder for stability. you are a moaning mess, pulling down on anton with so much force he hunches over your forehead. anton and sohee are too speechless to talk, only grunting and whimpering as they focus on fucking their fingers into you at the same pace. the wet sound and you whining overtakes the song that changed on the speakers.

“i’m cumming.” you whine.

sohee and anton only go faster. sohee looks up at your breasts, how your hardened nipples bounce from the momentum. even though you bite your lip the sound comes through. you open your eyes briefly when you feel anton’s hair brush your face. your heads are pressed side by side and anton’s hand pressing into your stomach keeps you in place. you can hear anton’s quiet moans, how he’s getting more and more pent up seeing, hearing, and feeling your release. you hear sohee same something and anton places a gentle kiss to your cheek, pulling his finger out of your heat to let sohee fuck you through your orgasm. 

sohee takes charge, using his other hand to press down on your clit. it’s a different sensation, almost painful from the stimulation you’re already receiving. anton uses his free hand to grab your breasts, being the roughest you’ve ever seen him.

when you are spent, you legs wrapped around sohee loosens and your hand falls from anton’s shoulder. you are a huffing mess, gasping for air when sohee pulls his fingers out of you. the weed and post orgasm pulls at your eyelids, but you keep them open to look at sohee in front of you. he’s worried, kissing your cheeks and massaging your twitching legs. your body is almost out of energy, but when you see sohee’s dick jump in his shorts you open your mouth.

“are there condoms?” you ask.

you have to swallow spit and lick your mouth to try and wet it. you only think for a second how ridiculous you three must look. mussed hair and flushed faces, all panting looking to one another as you try to figure out who was a condom. you can practically see the lightbulb go off over sohee’s head when he remembers he is always prepared.

“in my backpack.” sohee points to his back behind anton and anton reaches for it instantly. “i think.” sohee says.

while anton rummages through all the things in sohee’s bag sohee stands up, pulling his layered long-sleeve and short-sleeve shirt over his head in one go. you look up to watch him, the setting sun casts perfectly on his face. the ray of sun that comes through the tiny window lights up the space. you can see the dander floating around in the room, moving harshly in the wind as sohee kicks off his pants and socks. sohee’s gaze pierces through the sun, staring at you as he’s finished getting undressed. sohee is left in his underwear when he comes back down to his knees in front of you. anton dumps out the contents of sohee’s bag on the floor in a haste, moving things around not being able to find a condom.

sohee’s bag is thrown somewhere, and anton reluctantly lets go of you so he can get undressed himself. he stands up from the beanbag and you move forward, standing on your knees the same way sohee does. his hand comes to your hips and yours goes to his face, swiping a finger on his moles like they might disappear. he pulls you in for a kiss, and you can hear anton’s clothes hitting the ground behind you. you can hear the beanbag move too as anton comes behind you. he presses lips to your clammy shoulders and neck in the same places sohee kissed. anton’s hands go to your thighs, spreading them out slightly so he can come closer to you. one of sohee’s hands goes to your chin, tilting your head upwards so he can get a better angle. you can feel yourself becoming overwhelmed again, almost knocking you off your feet when you feel anton’s dick press against your ass. he gasps behind you, so sensitive from your bare skin touching his sensitive bare dick.

sohee pulls away from your lips, looking at anton behind you with the same look.

“you’re too impatient.” sohee says.

any attempt at a scolding goes right over anton’s head. you can feel anton smile against the back of your head when he ruts against your ass.

“if you won’t, i will.” anton remarks.

both you and sohee laugh at anton using sohee’s words against him.

“look at you being snippy.” you try to sound light and playful but your voice comes out sickly sweet.

“almost thought you were older than me for a second.” sohee says.

anton only hums against your head, moving his hips languidly against the swell of your ass. your hand goes behind your head to fist anton’s hair, sighing out in between the space of you and sohee. sohee looks to all of his things spread out on the floor, looking slightly annoyed. you go to kiss sohee’s neck while he scans the pile, not seeing what he needs. 

“i don’t have any condoms.” sohee says regretfully.

you hum against sohee’s neck, placing an open mouthed kiss before pulling away. anton still rubs against your ass, his fingers digging roughly into your hip bones.

“we can still have fun.” you say.

youlet your hand go underneath the waistband of sohee’s boxers. you touch his tip first, feeling the precum that wets the thin fabric of his underwear. you rub it around, teasing sohee enough until he pulls his boxers down to his knees. you grab sohee’s shaft and squeeze the same way he squeezed your chest, looking down at him slightly as he closes his eyes in bliss. sohee is more pliant now, even bringing a hand to your shoulder to find stability. when you start pumping his length sohee puts a hand over antons then above it when he realizes the spot is taken. you have to pair of hands with a death grip on you, and you are being pulled backwards towards anton as he becomes more wound up. you take your time with sohee, trying to coax out the whimpers he was hiding from you earlier.

“you’re gonna miss me, right guys?” you ask. 

you look at sohee while you ask the question, but both of the boys whine affirmatives.

“so much.” anton whimpers.

“so so so much.” sohee agrees.

you smile before placing a quick kiss to sohee’s lips. you look down at hard dick in your hand, glistening in the setting sun. it’s close enough to the bong that your hand is painted by the sun coming through the stained glass. the sight is so pretty, almost as pretty as your two friends you’re sandwiched between. 

“i’ll miss you guys too.” you whine.

your hand around sohee picks up the pace, and he walks forward on his knees until his tip presses against your stomach. he’s needy, fucking your hand with such vigor his tip pokes your bellybutton. this sohee is so different from the one that was teasing anton earlier. any attempt the three of you guys have tried to become the dominant one fails terribly. it’s reminiscent of the relationship you guys have had over the years, how none of you guys have a “leader”. that’s what set you apart from every other friend group, and that’s what is driving the three of you guys over the edge together. you are helping the other feel good, driven solely by weed and the tightening coil in the pits of your stomachs. 

sohee grabs anton’s hand on your waist and pulls it down to your heat. you’re still sensitive everywhere, shaking above their hands when they start gliding their fingers up and down your folds. sohee focuses on your clit and spreading your folds open while anton fingers your from behind. he’s fast and hits deep, mimicking the thrusts he takes against your ass. 

“i’m gonna cum.” anton whispers.

his voice is still gentle and sweet, almost pitiful as he confesses he’s going to finish first. his words are interrupted with gasps and whimpers when he finds a new way to stimulate himself against your body.

“fuck. me too.” sohee follows after him.

their fingers inside of you are hurried, trying to get you to join them as fast as possible. it’s pitiful, the three of you so close together as you all try to desperately make the others feel good. you are all lost in the feeling, only coming back to reality when sohee bends forward to press his teeth into your shoulder.

“oh my god.” you moan.

when you moan loudly, it gives sohee and anton the indication to do the same. anton no longer moans quietly into your shoulder or beside your ear. he means past your shoulder into sohee’s space while he uses his free hand to press his dick against your ass cheek. he’s fucking his with such force is pushes you forward, forcing your free hand to hold onto sohee for stability. sohee continues to fuck your hand and kiss the bite mark he left, moaning into your ear repeating how close he is. his fingers on your clit lose their steady pace, now just trying to overstimulate you.

the three of you are moaning in unison when you finally begin to feel release. you can feel anton slow his thrusts as hot cum spurts onto your side and dribbles onto your ass and thighs. you can feel him slow down behind you, pressing the top of his sweaty head to your back as he looks down at what he’s done. he is still moaning from the aftershocks, almost overstimulated himself when he uses his dick to move the cum around on your ass. 

sohee moves a hand from your shoulder to wrap around your hand. he makes you squeeze harder and move your hand faster. he is silent, letting the tension build over him for a second until he can’t bear it anymore. sohee pants your stomach as you both look down and moan. you follow after your two bestfriends solely from the sight and hearing them finish on either side of you. it’s overstimulating, causing your thighs to shake as you lean to sohee for support. anton’s hands hold onto you to help you steady as you feel yourself coming undone again. your eyes are screwed shut, and you curse while saying their names.

you’re still shaking when sohee and anton guide you down to the rug underneath your knees. you three are all trying to regain composure, breathing through your noses. 

all three of you are side by side on your backs staring at the ceiling of the basement. you focus on the music, letting the heavy bass that shakes the floor bring you back down to earth. you sneak quick glances at your two friends on either side of you. their chests still heave as they stare at the ceiling too, blissed out looks on their faces. you’re sure you look the same, despite your shaking legs and sudden shudders. anton’s eyes are closed and his hands clench at his sides. sohee smiles and opens his eyes first, hands resting on his stomach.

“we should do this next summer too.” sohee laughs.

#01zfan: sohee #01zfan: anton #sohee smut #anton smut #riize smut

[julesinsummer]

like a moth to a flame - theodore nott

theodore nott x fem!reader | angst | in which theodore is everything he wishes he wasn't and wants the one thing he knows he cannot have

cold. subdued. emotionless. complex.

theodore was nothing if he was not written off as a loner, a nobody in a crowd of dazzling faces. he didn't amaze crowds with his beauty, or even particularly stand out among the people he'd been raised with.

theodore was nothing if he was not a disappointment to his father.

nott sr. was an impatient man, insolent and violent at times. he was fiercely loyal to his master, his lord above all else. when his master ordered his wife, a bride taken from another land to wed at an age far too apart from his to die, he did it. he did it without hesitation, without mercy, and without the thought of doing it away from his young son's eyes.

theodore was nothing after he watched his father brutally slaughter his mother in their drawing room. he was ten at the time.

it was that moment, he thinks, that he became who he was.

cold. subdued. emotionless. complex.

nott sr. ensured no emotion was shown from his boy. his heir, his only living relation, and his only chance at continuing the hate he'd been bred to feel.

it was in his bones, that hate. and it simmered and boiled over when he realized that hate did not grow in his young son's.

theodore was born to be sensitive. he was born to be an academic, with a wit like no other and a knack for knowing just what to do. he was born to be a good person, a person with solid morals and a fond eye for adventure.

but he never could be any of those things, could he? voldemort didn't like academics. he didn't like people who were smarter, witter, and brighter than him. he didn't like restless children who always wanted to know more.

and true to his nature, nott sr. began to hate everything that theodore truly was. he was determined to kill it and burn it to the ground, determined to shape him into a near mirror image of himself.

and once he was beaten down enough, mentally and physically, theodore began to relent. his father wanted cold, subdued, emotionless, and complex.

theodore became all he was meant to be in his father's eyes.

hogwarts became his only reprieve from the monstrous horrors that awaited him at nott manor. he felt comfort in the cold, stone walls of the slytherin dungeon. he would sit and watch the black lake on occasion, lounging lazily in an armchair moved to the precise position to catch the best view.

he felt a deep connection to the feelings of the giant squid that inhabited the lake. he too was trapped in a body of water, unable to move very far or do very much without being watched or being scrutinized. he felt that they were very alike.

sometimes his friends would join him to watch the window. draco took the most interest of all of them, much preferring theo's company to anyone else's. he'd known him since his birth, after all. they were as good as brothers, if you'd believe it.

theo was quiet while draco was loud. theo was meticulous and analytical while draco felt and felt and felt some more. they balanced and complimented each other nearly perfectly.

draco often wished he could save theo one day. save him from his father, from the life he'd been forced into. it was impossible of course, with nott sr. and lucius malfoy being brothers in a purely fraternal organization with the same goal in mind.

theo was grateful for draco's constant presence. he appreciated his thoughts and how he was comfortable just existing alongside theo.

draco began being interested in girls around fourth year. he could have any girl he fancied. he was an attractive boy, with sharp features and piercing grey eyes. theo wished many times he could understand what it was like to like someone, anyone, in a way more than just friendship.

it was hard for theo to even maintain his friendships most times. he was often afraid that his father would use them as leverage against him, or even worse, that the dark lord would make a point to have them killed in front of his eyes.

it was the yule ball that gave theodore even more reason to be terrified. even more reason to be a cold, subdued, emotionless, complex human.

he wore his finest, sent over from italy at the request of his father. he knew he was a handsome boy and knew why girls wanted him to be their date. he also knew why he couldn't and why he wouldn't let himself feel anything other than apathy towards them.

at least, he did. until he saw her.

she was dressed in the finest gown he'd ever seen, silk and shining under the enchanted lights in the great hall. her hair was styled perfectly, shaping her face in a way that had to be considered art. her makeup was complimentary to her face, not cakey and overdone like pansy's, or little to nothing like astoria's.

she was perfection personified, and he didn't even know her name.

"what are you looking at, mate?" draco asked with a slight laugh, trying to trace the line of sight theodore had locked onto.

"she's beautiful," theo breathed out timidly, his brain nothing but static as he stared at her. she gracefully spoke to her friends, a glass of punch in her hand as if she'd been raised to be the center of society.

draco eyed her meticulously, studying the human figure theodore was so entranced by. "y/n?"

theo looked at draco, shrugging, suddenly missing the sight that he'd been so focused on moments before.

"she's quite beautiful," draco agreed, sipping from the glass in his hand. he tipped it towards her direction, "a pureblood, too, i assume. she's too graceful to not have practiced this."

theo once again turned his attention to her figure. he was completely and utterly entranced by her, a feeling like none he'd ever felt before at the sight of a stranger. she turned around at that moment, her eyes sweeping the great hall before landing on his. she studied him for a moment, a small smile on her lips. she gave a polite and small wave of her fingers in his direction, her eyes never leaving his.

"oh god," theo breathed out, feeling as though all the air from his lungs had disappeared. she turned back around to her friends, seemingly laughing and joking around.

draco chuckled, putting a hand on theo's shoulder. "she didn't come with a date," he informed him, "so the option is there for you."

theo shook his head rapidly. "you know why i can't do that."

"i know," draco conceded, his expression falling as the weight of theodore's position settled in his heart.

theo spent the rest of the night sneaking subtle stares her way, eyeing her as she danced happily and laughed with her friends. he felt pangs of jealousy strike his chest when other boys asked her to dance. at the same time, he felt immensely relieved when she turned them all down.

it was the best night he'd ever had, in his mind.

it was fifth year before he saw her again. this time he spotted her in arithmancy sitting at the table beside his own. she sat with astoria and daphne, a slytherin green tie adorned around her neck. theodore wondered how he'd never seen her before the ball or after.

maybe it was better that way. if he didn't see anything he wanted, he could still be cold and subdued and emotionless and complex.

he was lost in thought during the lesson, his mind everywhere but in the classroom when he caught her looking at him. he locked eyes with her in an instant, almost out of instinct.

her eyes could draw him in and push him out like the tides, he thought. he'd never seen anything more beautiful.

she looked away as professor vector gazed upon the class once more. theodore felt the loss.

it went on like that for a few more weeks, with her catching his eyes during class, staring at each other with more intensity than theodore ever thought possible, and then turning away before they were caught. theodore didn't like it one bit.

he wanted more. he needed more.

he was like a moth to a flame just from her glances, wanting so badly to be close to her, to be close to something he could not have.

it was near all hallow's eve when he heard her speak for the first time.

she walked up to him in the library where he sat alone in a corner that was so unused that dust and cobwebs had taken over all flat surfaces and corners. he felt safe there, away from the rest of humanity. from the rest of his life.

"i like your eyes," she said to him, quietly but with a strength and fierceness that could not be more evident. she stood lengths away from him, her arms crossed lazily over her chest and her head cocked to the side. her hair fell around her face perfectly, enhancing the already ethereal beauty she contained in her body.

theo stared at her for a few moments, probably more than he should've. he considered going mute at that moment and saving him the trouble of what even speaking to her would start.

"i like yours, too," he finally told her, quiet and low as his tone usually was. he was a monotonous creature, something he was reminded of daily.

she smiled and theo felt his world crumble around him. he was falling down a pit he'd sworn never to fall down, the one that showed who he really was. the pit full of sensitivity, feeling, and everything he truly was made to be. the pit reminded him of his mother and all the ways she'd imprinted her very soul upon his.

she nodded and pushed her hair away from her eyes where it had fallen. she stood silent for a moment after that. when she did speak, theo knew it was full of quiet contemplation and consideration.

"i don't think you are who you try to be," she stated with finality. "and i would like to get to know the real you. not the cold and closed off bullshit persona you put on."

theodore nott was nothing if he wasn't acting. but in that moment, all of her words struck him in his proverbial achilles heel. in that moment, theo didn't feel like a failure. he didn't feel like a disgrace or a disappointment to his father. he didn't feel like the theodore nott he'd played for so long.

he felt seen.

theo took many deep breaths before he answered. he figured at that moment that y/n could be the most patient person he'd ever encountered. she held his eyes with a ferocity that would rival even the most courageous of lions and a determination that put all snakes to shame.

"you don't want that responsibility," he finally spoke, his words full of emotions he couldn't quite name, but ones he felt in the very depths of his soul. his hands had begun to shake.

y/n sat next to him in a dusty, ancient armchair. "i don't shy away from a challenge," she laughed timidly, "and i find that i'm drawn to you like a moth to a flame."

"moths will die if they touch the flame," he responded immediately, his face devoid of any named emotion.

y/n chuckled and touched theo's hand gently. "only if they're stupid enough to run into it."

theodore only bared his very soul to one person in his life. y/n was true to her word and refused to back down from his challenge. eventually, she was rewarded with theodore nott. he was sensitive and an academic, a witty, bright, intelligent boy who felt everything and loved fiercely and without a second thought. he was adventurous and fun and y/n loved him with a determination that was almost impossible.

theodore nott was once again cold, subdued, emotionless, and complex after the battle of hogwarts. his side had lost and the mark he'd taken on his left forearm to appease his father and protect the love he wanted and needed forever was fading.

he vowed to be everything his father wanted him to be after the battle. after he'd seen his only remaining family slaughtered at what he thought to be his safe haven. after he saw her, beautifully effervescent and ethereal, laid on the ground in a way that was so poetically tragic.

she'd died at the hands of his father and quickly thereafter, nott sr. was dead at the hands of his own son.

it wasn't long after the battle that theodore himself lost himself completely.

draco had found him, cold and lifeless in nott manor with only the bottles of firewhisky around him to blame.

draco knew in his heart that he could never have saved theodore from the end he was sure to meet. it didn't make it any easier.

-

this is my first piece of writing on here and i hope you enjoy it! i swear i can write happier things, but this has been on my mind for a while so i decided to get it out!

reblogs and notes very much appreciated!!!

#theodore nott x reader #theodore nott #theo nott x reader #slytherin boys #harry potter #draco malfoy #angst #i love theodore nott

[upat4amwiththemoon]

Hey I’m sorry to bother, but can you do a Tony x teen reader? Platonic or familial obviously, but like where the reader isn’t smart academically and she’s constantly doing bad on tests and Tony comforting her? It’s fine if not thank you for your time either way :)

Academic validation

Summary: Tests aren’t the only thing that determine children’s intelligence.

Pairing: Tony Stark x teen!reader, Avengers x teen!reader

Warnings: I have no understanding of American education system

Word count: 870

a/n: I need that academic validation

Tags: @thought-of-you-and-me @rafecameronswhore

masterlists | guidelines

The huge encircled D on Y/N’s physics exam is the only thing on her mind as she walks towards the Avenger’s tower.

There’s a permanent frown on her face. She really studied for this test, she even got Tony to quiz her, but clearly that didn’t help. He’s going to be so disappointed in her.

Y/N walks into the tower, giving the security guard in the lobby a small wave before going into the elevator. She holds onto her backpack’s straps tightly as she waits for the elevator to stop on the common floor. She hopes Tony won’t be in there.

The elevator doors opens and Y/N gets out of it. Her steps are slow and quiet, she doesn’t want to announce her arrival to anyone. A shaky sigh leaves her mouth when she hears people talking in the common room.

She tries to walk past everyone, quickly but quietly, but it’s not very easy to sneak past Avengers. “Hey, kid!” Sam exclaims, waving her over to the small group hanging out on the couches.

Y/N lets out a breath, putting on a smile as she makes her way over to them. “Hi, guys.” Her eyes move over everyone. No Tony, that makes her relax just a bit. “What are you doing?”

Natasha’s arm is is laying on the couch’s back rest, her fingers gently rubbing Wanda’s shoulder, as she gives Y/N a cheeky look. “Wanda got offended when Sam said Fuller House is better than Full House, so she is making us watch Full House.”

Wanda pushes Natasha’s side, glaring at her before turning to Y/N. “No one in their right mind thinks a sequel of an iconic show is better than the show itself.” At the end of the sentence, she glares at Sam too, who raises his hands in mock surrender.

“Okay.” Y/N giggles with a shake of her head. At times she thinks of herself more mature than the adults.

“Want to join us, honey?”

“Uh,” she bites her lip, “no, I can’t sorry.” She has decided to beg her teacher for a retake of the test to get a more respectable grade to show Tony.

“Okay, but don’t think you’re getting away from watching Full House with me.” Wanda grins.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” Y/N waves at the trio and makes her way to her room.

In her room, she takes out the physics exam and looks it through over and over again, until she has fully memorized which parts she did wrong. It takes two hours. Two hours, which Y/N didn’t notice going by.

A knock on her door makes her jump. Her wide eyes glance at the clock, grumbling when she notices it’s over dinner time.

“It’s open!”

Tony walks inside the room, a small grin on his face and a plate of food on his hand. “I know everyone says we’re too alike, but please don’t take up on my habit of missing meals.” He sets the plate down on her desk. “It’s a bad habit, kiddo.”

“I won’t.” Y/N lets out an airy laugh, setting the test paper on the desk and pulling the plate in front of her.

“That your physics test?” Tony grabs the sheet of paper before Y/N is able to hide it.

“No!”

“What?” Tony glances at her with a frown. His eyes skim over both sides of the paper.

Y/N bites the inside of her cheek, her gaze going straight to the floor as she feels disappointment seeping into her body. “I did badly.” She mumbles, waiting for Tony’s criticism.

“So?” Tony sets the test back down. “Do you know how bad I did in school? I’m still absolutely brilliant.” He sits on her bed.

“Yeah.. but you’re great at physics, and math, and all that important stuff.”

“Sure.” Tony nods. “But this is only one test,” he taps the paper, “and you’re so great at so many things. You get As on history and English, you have a great eye for design, you have impeccable people skills, even though you hate most of them.” He laughs. “One physics exam doesn’t mean shit.”

Y/N looks at Tony, a small frown on her face. “But I want to be like you.”

“Kiddo, no one is going to be like me, not should they try to be like me.” Tony pats Y/N’s knee. “Is physics your passion?”

“I don’t know what my passion is.”

“Well, when you find your passion, I will be the one to hire you to work in a job that you love. Because no child living under my roof will work a day in their life in a job they despise. Yes, I will always encourage you to do your best at tests, but I’ll be proud of you no matter how well or bad you do in them.”

Sniffling, Y/N lunges to hug Tony. He embraces her right back, holding onto her tightly as long as she needs to be held, because even though he doesn’t love physical touch, he refuses to be the first one to pull away when a kid he considers his needs comfort.

#marvel #mcu #mcu imagine #marvel imagine #mcu fanfiction #fluff #tony stark x teen!reader #tony stark #tony stark imagine #tony stark x reader #tony stark x y/n #tony stark x you #tony stark x fem!reader #avengers x female!reader #avengers x y/n #avengers x teen!reader #avengers x reader #the avengers #avengers imagine #tony stark fanfiction #tony stark x female reader #avengers x you #avengers x fem!reader #tony stark x daughter!reader #avengers x daughter!reader

[violetrainbow412-blog]

Dear Theodosia [S. R]

Dad!Spencer Reid x fem!reader

word count: 2k

Summary: Spencer stays one afternoon to care for your three-month-old twins and reflects on how much he loves them.

This idea is entirely @lucreziaq2001 and is inspired by the song with the same title from the fic. Thanks for sharing! It was honestly very sweet to write.

taglist: @navs-bhat

Spencer Reid never imagined being a family man. When he started his career at the FBI, he was excited to discover this new world and become a valuable, skilled agent who could help catch the worst criminals. That is why he prepared himself so much academically, he read and read, he delved deeply to be able to learn as much as possible to be able to improve his profiles; in the equation he didn’t see a space for sentimental relationships and honestly it wasn’t something that he believed a necessity.

He liked being able to handle cases for weeks and then come home to go straight to bed; no noise, no mess. He liked that his only responsibility was to take care of his mother and the goldfish that lived in the huge fish tank next to the kitchen. It was a good and quiet life, but very lonely.

Until he met you.

Now, after years of being alone, he was about to spend a whole afternoon with his two little three-month-old twins: Charlotte and Jacob. You hadn't even completed your first wedding anniversary when the symptoms arrived and you have to admit that when you looked at the two red lines on the pregnancy test, you felt a little panic rather than happiness.

How were you going to raise a child? Were you even fit for that? In addition, there was that concern of your husband that his genetics would affect your children, or that, in his absence, your children would be forced to deal with the same thing that he had to go through with his mother.

But after a day or two, the shock of the news wore off and suddenly the two of you were laughing out loud as tears filled your eyes as you weighed in on the news: you were having a baby. Spencer almost fainted when, after several months, you went to the doctor for a checkup and the echo revealed that it wasn't one baby growing in your womb, but two babies.

"Are you sure you'll be okay?" you had asked him that afternoon, before you left the apartment to get into your mother's car, which was taking you to a doctor's appointment. It's not that you didn't trust Spencer, but you were worried that one of the three of them needed you and you weren't there.

He responded by giving you a kind kiss on the lips and asking you to get out of there without any worries, telling you that the FBI could manage a couple of hours without him. He honestly felt excited to be able to enjoy his little rays of sunshine, as he called them all the time, because since they were born Spencer had only been able to be with them a few nights when they cried and he had seen you too tired to go calm them down.

Spencer went to the room that you had set up for both babies and smiled when he looked at the two pink and blue cribs that the team had given you when they heard the news. They both had mobiles that his mother had decorated in the sanatorium, because, in addition to her intelligence, she had always had manual skills, and the blankets that covered them had been woven by Spencer and you; unfortunately for Charlotte, as hers was more neglected than her twin's.

The man leaned in to look at both of them, careful not to make a sound so as not to wake them, and smiled widely when he noticed Jacob moving his little hands in his sleep. Thanks to the books on motherhood that he had read, he knew that, even after research, it wasn’t certain when babies began to dream, but he wanted to believe that his son was doing it.

After eating something Spencer sat on the sofa in the living room while he put together a puzzle to pass the afternoon and from time to time he walked into the room to check that both of them were okay. He wasn't belittling your work, of course, but for the first few hours he didn't really suffer too much, since during one of the long naps it was a good time to take care of his duties as a father. Until the sound of crying startled him, he practically ran to see what had happened, only to find that the noise was coming from the pink crib.

"Hey, Lottie," he whispered, reaching out to pick up her daughter, careful to hold her head so he wouldn't hurt her. "What's up, honey?"

Spencer walked into the living room, the last thing he wanted was to have to comfort two crying babies while rocking the little girl in his arms. He wondered what the crying was about, as it was unlikely to be due to hunger. You had breastfed them before you left and you were very strict about schedules so as not to spoil them. After checking he realized that he did not need a diaper change either and the doctor had said that the colic would improve after three months, so it could not be due to stomach issues. He felt scared for not knowing her motives, but his fears were quenched when after rocking her for a couple of minutes she finally calmed down.

“It was a tantrum. You just wanted me to hug you, is that it?" he laughed, speaking softly to the little girl. She was very intelligent, because she was already looking at everything carefully and Spencer thought it was because she was already beginning to see the colors of things and was curious "Let's go with your brother, but promise you won't cry or he's going to wake up" he exclaimed, with the same sweet and careful tone, as he walked back to your children's room.

Jacob was still sleeping peacefully when he pulled a chair over to the side of his crib, so he could watch him, still holding her twin in his arms.

"My babies, so pretty..." whenever he had the opportunity, he would have one-sided conversations with the newborns, claiming that communication with them was very important because that way their brain would learn more words, but a part of him did it for the simple pleasure to talk about the things he felt. Sometimes he even liked being discovered by you in the middle of a pep talk for your kids "I haven't had much time to spend with you, but today mommy had to go out and I'm taking care of you"

With a smile on his lips, he leaned down to kiss the lump in his arms on the cheek, hearing the baby babble at the sensation of her father's stubble scratching her skin and finding that the most tender sound.

Spencer had been very happy holding and caring for her godson Henry when he was a baby, but he never knew how wonderful it was to care for his own until he met Jacob and Charlotte. Every day they were the first thing he thought about when he woke up and the last thing he worried about when he slept, or sometimes even in his dreams he found himself searching like crazy for the well-being of his children.

He suddenly looked at Lottie, much calmer now that she was wrapped in her father's warmth, and he realized how much she looked like you, but with eyes identical to his. Sometimes he was completely amazed by how wonderful nature was: those two little ones had come out of your body, they were the fruit of you and him.

It's no secret that Spencer hadn't had the most pleasant childhood and because of this he always thought that he wouldn't be able to raise a child. His father had never shown love, he had abandoned him, he had mistreated him... was that the example he would follow? Would he risk ending up being that to your children? Spencer knew that, statistically, a child who grows up with violent patterns and behaviors is more likely to imitate this type of behavior in the future. And that terrified him.

“Do you want to load them?” he remembers that you had asked him, just as the nurse had handed you a set of healthy twins on the hospital gurney. They both had these little bracelets with their names on them to identify them and, honestly, they were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. He finally understood why all parents so proudly showed off their bald little ones with wrinkled skin.

"But I don't know how to do it, what if I hurt them?"

“You won't, Spence. Try” you had smiled at him, putting your entire trust in him. When he took Jacob in his arms and saw him, so small and so fragile, he was certain that he would do anything in the world to protect him.

And from that moment he knew that he wouldn’t be like his father, that he could die for those two babies if necessary, and that he would take care of filling them with all the love that existed in his body.

He couldn't help crying inconsolably and he even apologized to you for behaving like that after all the hours you had to go into labor, but you didn't care at all because that was also the moment you realized that he would make a wonderful father, as well as a kind and understanding husband. It was everything you could wish for.

"Jake" Spencer exclaimed, when he noticed that his son stirred on the cloth "You're awake too, that's wonderful"

There was a trace of irony in his words, because he didn't even want to imagine what he would do if both babies began to cry, although luckily the boy was less sensitive and it was enough to rock the cradle a little for him to laugh.

Every time Spencer came home and found his little family, he felt very happy and lucky, with the memory of that lonely life as something far away. He had been happy before, of course, but now he really felt that he was coming home.

His mind wandered a little over the thought of what his children would look like once they grew up. He thought about when they would say their first words, take their first steps, when they would be old enough to beg him not to go to work and instead stay and watch cartoons with them. He imagined them playing, possibly Charlotte dressing him as a princess and Jacob as a superhero, he imagined them living with other children and even smiled when he thought at that age that why? becomes the children's favorite question.

And suddenly he, too, thought of all the evil they would have to face. The last case the team had dealt with was related to the kidnapping of babies and Spencer honestly had to take a moment to calm down just thinking that this could happen to one of his children. He now understood the frustration of the parents of the victims and the desire to make the criminal pay, but still he couldn't do anything but wait for justice to do its part. His children had inevitably become the main motivation for him to arrest all those criminals. He was going to build them a safe world, a better world where they could grow up in peace.

He got up to leave Charlotte in her crib, now that she was more asleep than awake, and heard Jacob complain from his place.

"Here I am, baby," he said immediately, reaching out to almost cover his little boy "I'm here with you."

Spencer didn't know what kind of fate awaited those two babies, but he wanted to help them fulfill their dreams and he hoped they would be even better than him and you: smarter, kinder, stronger. Still, he would be proud of whatever they became, and if they strayed, Spencer would help them get back on track.

He leaned down and kissed both of their foreheads, murmuring to them individually that if they were afraid of anything, Daddy would always be there to protect them. And that was a promise that he kept until the end of his days.

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #dr spencer reid #matthew gray gubler #aaron hotchner #derek morgan #jason gideon #JJ #penelope garcía #david rossi #emily prentiss #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fluff #dad!spencer reid

[wileys-russo]

time management II a.russo x reader

hello! this is my first ever post so pls be nice. It makes me sO nervous to dip my toe into writing on woso tumblr after only being a reader from afar but here we are 🫶🏻

time management II a.russo x reader

"baby? i'm back!" your girlfriend called out from the front door, the soft thud of her kit bag hitting the floor followed by a small grunt as she wrestled to take off her trainers. You couldn't help but chuckle as you heard yet another small thud followed by a yelp and some quiet cursing, it had all but become part of her routine now to fall over during the seemingly simple task. 

"hi clumsy." you greeted her with a knowing smile, the blonde huffing to blow a loose strand of hair out of her face, cheeks tinted pink with embarrassment and face flushed and rosy from training as she entered your eye line. "stupid floor." the girl grumbled in annoyance, shrugging off her training jacket and hanging it over the back of a chair as she stepped into the living room. 

The italian's large hands gently rested on either side of your face, tilting your head back ever so slightly as she bent down down to press a soft but sweet kiss to your forehead as she passed the back of the lounge you were currently sprawled on, work laptop perched precariously on your knees. 

"i wonder if we get a discount now when we go to the emergency room since you're such a frequented visitor." you teased with a grin, the older girl shooting you an unimpressed glare before she disappeared into the kitchen where you heard the tap running as she no doubt chugged a glass of water, yet another step in the post training routine.

"how was it?" you called out, eyes drifting back to the screen in front of you, the half completed report card staring back at you almost tauntingly. Your chest tightened somewhat when you glanced at the last name, a quiet sigh falling from your lips confirming you still had at least nineteen left to write before they were due for submission on monday. As the seconds ticked by friday was ever closer to being over, only tightening your deadline.

Unlike your superstar striker girlfriend you were not gifted with sporting ability, however what you may have lacked in the athletic department you made up for in the academic field. You'd always had a subtle but present passion for sharing knowledge with others, which with a gentle push from your own teachers, inevitably lead you down the path of teaching. After a few grueling years of uni and various placements your hard work paid off and you had finally secured your first permanent primary teaching position.

With the term holidays looming the days seemed to tick by ever so slowly for both you and your year 5 class, which they all made sure to remind you on a daily basis, especially when they were having to participate in anything apart from lunch or recess. The constant battle to keep them focused on anything but what they planned to do when not in school had you wanting to tear your hair out.

You adored your class, and of course you loved teaching. But the final two weeks of term was forever the most stressful for you, and as much as you tried to bottle it up, you were almost certain you were partially responsible for your students wild behavior, it was as if they picked up on your internal erratic energy.

As much as you'd secretly love to give into their endless demands, throw on some mind numbing cotton fluff childrens films for them to consume and keep quiet for the next week, you knew they would in the long term benefit from the lessons. Plus whose to say with a little money taken out of your own pocket you couldn't make it a little more fun for them in this upcoming final week like you'd planned.

Though you had one end goal, which was two weeks off to spend as much time with your friends, family and of course your girlfriend as you could squeeze in amongst some much needed self care time for yourself. Though it meant added stress in the meantime with forward planning your first couple weeks lessons back of next term before this term would even finish as to allow you to actually spend the time away from work, away from work.

"good! got a new PB on the bench press, even beat mary." alessia beamed in response to your prior question as she joined you, her competitive nature not much of a secret to those who knew her well enough. Growing up the youngest of three and the only girl it wasn't hard to see why she was wired with such a drive to win, and looking at her career so far it was even easier to see the obvious benefits it had for her.

"bet she loved that." you chuckled, eyes still focused on your screen as your fingers flew across the keyboard, finishing your sentence before placing it onto the coffee table your feet had been happily perched on, making sure your girlfriend knew she had your full attention as she rambled on for awhile about training and the upcoming match tomorrow.

"ah! you're all sweaty, go shower first." the taller girl grunted a little in shock as your legs shot out to press into her chest, stopping her from collapsing on top of you as you knew she'd intended to. "what! come on just one hug." the blondes perfectly plucked eyebrows furrowed together as her bottom lip jutted out into a small pout. Though after almost three years together now you were well aware of her games and overtime it had become much easier not to give into them, at least most of the time.

"no less, you know I hate it just go shower." you shook your head with a small smile, pointing upstairs sternly as your own eyebrows quirked upwards at her obvious defiance. "you don't always hate when I'm sweaty." your girlfriend grinned cheekily at the suggestive comment as she grabbed your feet, your cheeks flushing with warmth which didn't go unnoticed by the italian, adoring the effect her words could have on you when she wanted them to.

"go shower! you smell." you kicked at her lightly with a smirk as she swatted your legs away with ease, rolling her eyes playfully at the jab and turning as if to head upstairs as you reached over for your laptop assuming the conversation was over. 

A sincere mistake on your part as your girlfriend suddenly turned on her heel, launching herself back towards you and over the arm of the lounge, careful of how she landed as you felt her larger form envelop yours, arms encasing your torso and face plunged into your neck.

"alessia!" you squealed in surprise, desperately trying to shove her off of you to no avail as the much stronger girl held on with ease, going so far as to purposely rubbing her sweat dampened hair in your face. "get off! please!" you begged with a scream, laughter echoing around the room as the striker dug her fingers teasingly into your sides, legs slotted in-between your own, careful not to completely crush you beneath her.

"say you missed me and maybe I'll get off." alessia grinned, her lips inevitably finding your own, your stomach doing a back flip as they did, your arms coming to wrap around her neck, hand pressing on the back of her head only spurring her on to deepen the kiss further.

"no! I hate you, get off." you pushed her away with a peal of laughter as her tongue slipped inside your mouth, stopping things before the two of you got anymore carried away. 

"now that's not very nice, no one likes a liar bella." the blonde beamed, bright blue orbs locked with yours, you made sure to tear your gaze away before you got lost in them, melting at the italian endearment as it fell from her lips.

"get off me or I'll call your mum and tell her about our little trip last week." you threatened, withdrawing your hands from around her neck to cross them over your chest, your girlfriends eyes narrowing at your words as she pushed herself up, resting on her forearms which sat either side of your head. 

The threat was not taken lightly, her mum having all but promised the next time her daughter had any sort of stumble at home she'd move in and permanently encase her in bubble wrap, the girls clumsy nature making her a danger not only to herself but also to those around her.

Her most recent victim had of course been you, the slightly tipsy girl had been attempting to romantically carry you upstairs to bed after a big win, the two of you having celebrated with a bottle of wine and catching up on Love Island. 

But the sweet moment hadn't last long and before you knew it she'd tripped over a discarded trainer and promptly dropped you down half a flight of stairs. Luckily all you suffered was a slight cut above your eyebrow from a knock against the banister, and a lovely week of mild bruising on your tailbone. But forever overprotective alessia had insisted you go right to the emergency room to get assessed for a  concussion, and there was no convincing her otherwise. 

After the cut had been cleaned and sealed with a band aid, you'd been deemed not concussed  and alessia had copped a stern talking to from mary who she'd called for a ride, all was well again.

"you wouldn't." "lessi my love we both know I would."

"you know blackmail is a very unattractive quality." alessia tutted with a shake her head, the hint of a smile ghosting her lips betraying her attempt at a stern look as you smiled smugly, knowing you'd won. 

"go shower, i have to keep doing these reports anyway." your face softened as you gently tucked a loose strand of blonde hair behind the strikers ears, the older girl melting at the sincere touch as she stole a quick kiss and pushed herself off of you, standing to her feet and padding off upstairs.

You watched her go with a smile, shaking your head and readjusting your position, grabbing your laptop and mentally checking back into the work with a click of your mouse pad and a sigh. 

You had powered through another three reports by the time your girlfriend returned, her skin care routine always taking up an elaborate amount of time, though your own routines often out lasted hers so you had no room to comment. 

Your indecisiveness, non existent sense of urgency and endless 'final' touch ups when getting ready meant the two of you were known to be late for any event you were invited to, something that frustrated your incredibly punctual girlfriend to no end. But as you were always quick to cheekily remind her with a kiss, perfection took time.

The blonde joined you again on the couch, this time grabbing your mostly bare legs, save for a very short pair of football shorts, and lifting them to rest on her lap. Slotting her body in beside you, she fondly lent over to kiss your cheek before grabbing the remote from where it lay tucked into the side of the lounge. 

Your eyes glanced up from your screen with a quiet chuckle as she clicked in to watch united's match from last week, the calculated re-watching a common habit for the striker the night before a game. You were much accustomed to all of her pre and post match routines, and knew her well enough to know exactly what she needed from you on all occasions, win or lose, good game or bad.

"Where'd you dig these out from then?" The girl mused quietly, fingers tugging up your hoodie and prodding accusingly at the baby blue unc kit shorts she'd sworn she'd lost during the move to your current shared flat. 

"I've always known where they were." you answered cheekily as your lips quirked into a smile, eyes flickering over to hers before returning to your screen, now being alessia's turn to roll her eyes playfully at your vague response. 

Throughout the entire course of your relationship right down to the first few months of dating, her clothes had always seemed to magically appear on your body or in your closet. The girl having to practically beg for them to be given back, you only begrudgingly returning them once they stopped smelling like the Italian beauty you were rapidly falling head over heels for.

(though not that she had to confess to you how much she enjoyed you wearing her clothes for you to catch on how much she did. The blonde was hardly subtle in her affections toward you on a regular day, let alone when she'd return from training or wake up after a sleep in to you pottering around in the kitchen wearing only her jersey, last name sprawled proudly across your shoulder blades)

It all started off harmless, the taller girl always having been incredibly affectionate and touchy toward you, which was no issue given both your love languages included touch. Her hands rested innocently on your knees, tracing small shapes into the soft skin, but then they started to move a little higher, wandering hands gently grabbing at your thighs.

"alessia." you warned quietly, quickly moving her hands away from where they sat dangerously close to the hem of your hoodie. The blonde only hummed, eyes trained in concentration to the game on the tv in front of her, hands laying dormant on your thighs, perfectly manicured and resuming their absent minded tracing.

"less." you warned again, this time with a tired sigh as her hands slid up your legs and her fingers dipped into the waistband of your shorts, nails scratching gently against your hips. "I think you should take a break amore mio." the striker smiled charmingly, hands immediately placed back to where you'd moved them from, the girl interlocking your fingers and bringing them to her lips, gently kissing the back of your palm.

"love we go through this every term, I have to get these reports done. Would you rather I not come to your game tomorrow? Because if we carry on with what you want right now, that's going to be the outcome." You again sighed, your girlfriend leaning in to bury her face into your neck as you messed around with the rings adorning her slender fingers.

"Of course I want you at the game. Just take a small break, let me give you a massage or something." The girl mumbled, pressing feather light kisses to the sensitive skin, your eyes briefly fluttering closed in pleasure before you shrugged her away.

"Five minutes, that's it." You warned seriously, your girlfriend nodding eagerly as her lips quickly reattached to your neck. "Please don't tell me you're setting a timer." she sighed, forehead slumping down to press into your shoulder with a groan, already knowing the answer to her own question as you finished up tapping away at the apple watch on your wrist.

You placed your laptop back on the coffee table, your girlfriend nudging for you to adjust your position on the lounge, turning your body so your back pressed into her front. 

"Baby your shoulders are ridiculously knotted, try to relax." alessia chastised quietly, you withholding a moan as her fingers dug expertly into your skin, working hard to try and de-stress your tightly clenched muscles. 

"is it working?" the blonde asked softly, peppering buttery kisses down the side of your jaw and you hummed, closing your eyes with a content sigh of relief.

"good. So, mearps and tooney will be here in a bit to-" alessia started as your eyes shot open, stress once again consuming you, pushing your body away from hers, eyes widening. 

"Tonight? I have to get back to these reports less." you sighed tiredly, both of you jumping slightly as your timer sounded and you were quick to tap it off, moving your body further away from alessia's who frowned at the sudden lack of contact.

You adored your girlfriends team mates, both at club and country, all of them making sure you knew that just because they were alessia's friends first didn't mean they loved or cared for you any less.

lotte and georgia even having gone out of their way to give alessia herself a stern talking to about never breaking your heart, it may have been fueled by an alcohol filled celebration post euros win, but never failed to make you laugh or feel the sincere care from the other girls.

Right now however the two bubbly Manchester players were the last people you wanted to see, entertaining anyone a thought far from your reach and capacity at the moment. 

You had plans you felt you couldn't back out of for the rest of your weekend. A doctors appointment tomorrow morning, lessons to be planned for the new term, going to alessia's game in the afternoon and out with her family for dinner afterwards. Then Sunday would be consumed by your own family, your grandmothers 95th birthday not something you could just skip out on, and your family were not ones to half do a celebration so you knew it would be a full day commitment. 

So in accordance you'd planned to get your reports done tonight so you could enjoy your weekend stress free. 

Though subconsciously you knew 'stress free' was always going to be a lie.

 You'd had a lot longer than a few days to get these done, but with procrastination and long days overwhelmed by wrangling 25 stir crazy holiday hungry students, your week had drizzled by without a single one touched, every time you tried filled with someone else needing your attention, both at school and at home.

It didn't help that because your girlfriends love language was touch, when your attention couldn't be on her in the minimal time you had alone together during your busy weeks, she'd often become quite frustrated and needy. 

"I don't see why you're upset, haven't you had all week to get them done?" your girlfriend questioned, not intending it to come across as accusatory as it did. "alessia-" you started with a sharp sigh, fingers squeezing the bridge of your nose as you pressed your eyes closed.

"you know the time leading up to the end of term is the busiest for me. The kids are wild and un-engaged but I still have to get through the last of the curriculum with them, I have to go through all their homework and all their assignments to collate these reports, I have to forward plan my lessons for next term so I can actually have a break in-between them-" you paused to take another deep breath, feeling the stress bubbling up rapidly inside you.

"- we have plans with our families all weekend, I need peace and quiet to get these done tonight and as much as I love tooney and mearps we both know that won't happen if they're here." You inhaled, closing your eyes and letting go of the bridge of your nose to run your hands through your hair, letting out a slow and shaky exhale.

"So you have had all week to get them done then." alessia shot back without thinking, crossing her arms over her chest stubbornly as you paused to take a breath, knowing that if you gave in to an argument there was even less chance of you getting things done. 

"Can you not just reschedule to another night? Or go to one of their houses?" You asked softly, trying not to let your emotions win over. "Could you not have worked on your time management? I feel like we have this exact same argument over your inability to mange your own work load all the time!" alessia challenged with a frown, your own face falling at the lack of understanding and support from the girl who was supposed to be your partner.

"like you said, this happens every term. You never manage your time right and get overwhelmed and stressed when it comes to a head when all of your stress could be avoided if you just learnt from the mistakes made last time, prioritized things correctly and fixed the problem!" alessia huffed, throwing her hands up and sending you a pointed look of annoyance.

"you know what? You're absolutely right alessia I don't have the time management to argue about this right now. And yes this is all my fault, because between being needed at school or needed by my students or their parents or needed by my own family or my own friends or your friends or my coworkers or my boss, how dare I not prioritize you and your needs from me. Oh wait? That's what I'm trying to do so I can come to your stupid fucking match tomorrow! So congratulations you are absolutely right and you do whatever you want, just leave me alone and don't expect to see me there tomorrow." you finally snapped, the stress bubbling up and boiling over before you even had a moment to take a breath. 

Standing to your feet and snatching your phone and laptop from the table you stormed off upstairs, the slam of the bedroom door seemingly triggering knocks at the front one announcing the arrival of your dinner guests, who had no idea what they were about to walk into.

Alessia looked upstairs and bit down on her bottom lip, contemplating following you, but the continuing knocks at the front door had made the decision for her, the girl composing herself before hurrying over to open it. "Finally! What did I interrupt you mid shag?" mary teased, hurrying inside past her teammate who closed the door afterwards, still trying to wrap her head around what had just happened.

"Hope everyone's decent!" mary yells looking around for you, the teasing grin falling flat from her face as she instantly picks up on the strange tension in the room and the somewhat guilty look plastered to the young blonde in front of hers face.

"Where's tooney then?" alessia asked quietly, making her way into the kitchen to grab mary something to drink. "Her turn to buy dinner, she was still trying to decide what to pick up on the way. Hey leave that, what's happened?" mary moved to close the fridge, nudging alessia and opening her arms, the younger girl accepting the hug with a troubled sigh.

"What's gone on less?" mary asked softly, dragging her to sit at the island as the older woman joined her, rubbing her back gently when alessia groaned, dragging her hands down her face before recounting the argument and most of what lead up to it.

"Oh less." mary sighed once she'd finished, alessia resting her head on her hand with a frown. "For a smart girl you're so thick sometimes." mary stated bluntly, shoving the strikers head off of her hand as she swiped her arm out from beneath her. "mary!" alessias frown deepened, shoving the girl back whose smile only grew.

"when you get home from late training, whose got dinner ready and waiting for you on the table?" mary simply asked, shutting down the blondes questions with a wave of her hand, waiting patiently for an answer.

"she does." alessia mumbled.

"when you're in a strop cause we lose or you miss a sitter, whose there afterwards to build you back up and look after you?" mary questioned again, her pointed look shutting down any protests from the younger girl who sighed and repeated the same answer as before.

"when we go on national camps, we're away for what? weeks at a time? same thing with tournaments, away games, media days, we were gone for months with the euro's-" mary continued as alessia let out yet another troubled sigh, the pieces starting to slot together in her head.

"okay yes, I get it." the younger girl intervened, mary waving her off before continuing.

"no less, let me finish. You got upset because what? she doesn't give in to your cry for attention and give into whatever you want from her? which mind you she does do every other day, as well as give her entire care and attention to twenty five kids, daily. God knows I struggle to deal with you lot who are adults daily! Not to even think about how much pressure is likely put on her from the school, her students parents, people can treat teachers like shit. But despite that she still goes out of her way to do the little things like double check your kit bag for you on a weekend in case you forgot something, leave those soppy little notes in your bags for you to find when we go away to camp, go out of her way to cook for you and have it ready when you're home late . But that's probably because she knows how moody you get when you don't eat right." mary joked lightly, bumping her shoulder playfully against her teammates.

"my point is, you can hardly have a go at her for you not thinking she's managing her time right. When the main things you're sopping about her not having time for is something she avoids things like her work, to do. So really..." mary trailed off, looking hopefully to the blonde beside her.

"-she's not bad at managing her time, I need to get better at managing my expectations around her time." alessia finished as mary's eyebrows shot up in surprise, that answer better than what she was even angling for.

"bingo!" mary confirmed as alessia let out another loud groan, feeling the weight of the dirt from the hole she'd dug herself into beginning to weigh heavily on her shoulders. "that makes it sound like I'm one of her students just constantly demanding her time and attention." alessia whined into her hands, shaking her head remorsefully. "I mean you said it, but if the shoe fits..." mary trailed off with a shrug, unable to argue the somewhat valid point made. 

"less, you've been infatuated with the girl since you laid eyes on her in that coffee shop, there's a reason we took the mick out of you for it. Show her that when she's struggling to manage her time and her workload, you're there as her partner to help her shoulder it and work through it. Support her like she's always supporting you, its not all about the big gestures either. Do the little things that help take away from the stress she's feeling right now, you love each other very very much, and she still knows that." mary comforted the striker, again gently rubbing a hand up and down her back as alessia nodded.

"well I'd say my work here is done, that'll be 250 pounds for my valuable time and treasured advice please." mary stood to her feet, holding out her hand expectantly, alessia unable to keep from cracking a small smile as she pushed the keepers arm away.

"right. I'll go call tooney and we'll bugger off, you go fix things with your lady and hopefully I'll see you both tomorrow. But-" mary started before alessia cut her off, guessing already what the keeper had to say. "-but if she has reports to do, it's okay that she misses the game." alessia confirms, mary beaming proudly as the two of them walked to the front door.

"good girl, god they grow up and learn so quickly." mary wiped a fake tear from her face as alessia practically shoved her out the door, thanking her and with a quick hug she was disappearing off into the crisp april air.

meanwhile you sat upstairs trying your very best to concentrate on the reports in front of you, your mind running rampant with the stress at the thought of not getting them done, the overthinking causing somewhat of an internal meltdown as you closed your laptop and laid down with a large sigh.

a knock at the bedroom door shifted your focus, you sat back up and hastily yanked the laptop open before resting it on your knees, calling for alessia to come in. the blonde gingerly opened the door and leant against the frame, rocking awkwardly on the balls of her feet as your eyes stayed trained to your screen.

"i made dinner." the older girl announced softly, running a hand through her hair with a small sigh when you didn't respond. "do you want me to bring you up a plate so you can keep working?" she took a seat carefully on the corner of the bed, reaching out to place a hand on your ankle, a small sense of relief spreading through her body when you didn't push her away.

"i'm sorry." "i'm sorry."

you looked up as you both spoke in sync, small smiles settling on both your faces as you did. 

"you don't have anything to be sorry for, I've been quite selfish. You have so much on your plate at the moment and instead of helping you share the load I've just been adding to it and complaining when things don't go my way. that's not healthy and not helpful and i'm really sorry, i hope it isn't too late to change that." alessia was quick to apologize again as you closed your laptop and moved, sat beside one another at the end of the bed.

"i could have communicated things a little better instead of just bottling it all up and then snapping on you, that wasn't fair and i'm sorry too. And you were right I do need to get better at managing my time and prioritizing things so it doesn't all bank up to be dealt with at the last minute." you admitted shyly, the both of you reaching out for the others hands, fiddling absentmindedly with one another's fingers.

"i love you." alessia blurted out, a smile creeping onto your face at the words, echoing them back as you both shared a tender kiss, relief filling both your bodies that the argument for now had been resolved. 

"where's mearps and tooney?" you asked, perking up as you suddenly remembered part of what lead to the argument in the first place. "at their own places, mary might have popped over and admittedly talked some sense into me." the italian admitted with a guilty smile, the two of you sharing a look before bursting out into laughter, both of you looking toward the keeper as an older sister figure for this reason.

"so, game plan." your girlfriend straightened up, kissing your knuckles before dropping your hand. "i'll bring you up some dinner, you work on your reports, try to go to bed before eleven and get some sleep. then tomorrow i'll drive you to your appointment in the morning, go to my game. You stay here, and do your reports. i'll tell my family we'll go to dinner next week instead, they come every week so they won't mind, we order pizza for dinner and i'll be around if you need anything but i'll stay out of your hair. Then hopefully everything's done by your grandmas birthday on sunday." alessia rambled out, only pausing to take a breath once she'd finished.

"less, baby-" your eyebrows knitted together, the girl holding up her hand to silence your protests before they could fall from your mouth. "no, you always go above and beyond for me, this is the least i can do for you. please?" she practically begged, hand coming to softly rest on your cheek as you nodded, leaning in to connect your lips again, smiling at the all too familiar feeling of warmth it ignited in you.

long term you knew this was a problem you had to work on, but for right now, wrapped up in your little love bubble, you knew things were going to be okay, and that was all that mattered.

#alessia russo #alessia russo x reader #woso fanfics #woso x reader #woso imagine #mary earps #lionesses x reader #woso community #woso

[haknom]

TO ALL THE BOYS I LOVED BEFORE (OT7)

a written series of tropes with enha boys! | first fic release - hopefully by july?

note: first off thank you so much for 1.1k followers! i’ve been planning this since i reached 1k but it never was finalized. thank u sm to @hanniluvi for creating the banners I LOVE U SOPHH!! thank u a LOT to both soph and @flwoie for helping with the titles.

HEESEUNG — BROKEN RINGS

TROPES royalty, arranged marriage, e2l.

PAIRING prince-enemy!heeseung x fem!reader

SYNOPSIS As enemies within your parents kingdom, you two always caused a ruckus. Your parents, king and queen of Hertz, and Heeseung’s parents, king and queen of Ylem, had come into an alliance without their children's knowledge—an arranged marriage to help their kingdoms rise in status. That wouldn’t be a bad idea, right? Wrong. With you two in the mix, there would be a lot to work on. Starting with your hatred for each other.

want to read? click here! (est. 15k words)

JAY — SUMMER STRING SUMMER FLING!

TROPES summer love + band au

PAIRING guitarist!jay x fem!reader

SYNOPSIS During the summer holidays, you never had much to do. Unlike others who took it as an opportunity to travel the world, you’d normally be at home, but this year was different. Your friends had finally convinced you to go on a trip with them—a 3-month vacation in America. It sounded like fun, really, but what you didn’t expect was to meet a certain boy. One conversation with him was enough for you to claim that he was the love of your life—something you said when you weren’t sober.

want to read? click here! (est. 14k words)

JAKE — DUMBER AND DUMBER

TROPES academic rivals to lovers with a twist.

PAIRING rival!jake x fem!reader

SYNOPSIS Academic rivalries are an overrated trope. It’s always about competing for the top spot in the term's overall student rankings, something both you and Jake didn’t care about. Although the title "academic rivals" was used by you both when referring to each other, it actually meant something entirely different in your vocabularies. You two were over here fighting for the second-last position rather than the top rank. To the two of you, it was extremely important, but not to others. It's a bit confusing, isn't it?

want to read? click here! (est. 14k words)

SUNGHOON — LOVE COMES AT A PRICE

TROPES quiet boy x popular person and fake dating au

PAIRING fake-bf!sunghoon x fem!reader

SYNOPSIS Even four months after your breakup, your ex-boyfriend constantly convinced himself that you still felt a little something for him, which wasn’t true at all. So, you tried to put a stop to his pestering by lying and saying there was someone else in your life now. Spurring out another lie, you claimed that the boy was Park Sunghoon, someone you never knew but saw on the notice board every day. Now your only goal is to make everything seem convincing! But knowing how stubborn Sunghoon was for a quiet guy could've helped you a little earlier.

want to read? click here! (est. 12k words)

SUNOO — CONFUSING ATTRACTION

TROPES grumpy x sunshine

PAIRING sunshine!sunoo x grumpy-fem!reader

SYNOPSIS Kim Sunoo is known to be a ball of sunshine at Decelis. A confusing aspect of his personality is his urge to be friends with practically everyone—including you. Someone that nobody spoke to because of your cold attitude. But Sunoo now makes it his goal to become your friend! Only thing is, what if his objective doesn’t just lead to friendship?

want to read? click here! (est. 9k words)

JUNGWON — WAXED LETTERS

TROPES boy next door (enemies) and pen pals.

PAIRING neighbor-enemy!jungwon x fem!reader

SYNOPSIS A pen pal was something you always wanted as a child but could never. Now, at 19 years old, you were finally able to find someone who you could communicate with daily. It sounds like a great life, doesn’t it? Not really. The only con of moving into your own apartment was your aggravating neighbour, who was kind of cute but still got on your last nerve almost every day. It was a good thing that he saw you the same way but not for long.

want to read? click here! (est. 10k words)

NIKI — BLOOMING DISASTER!

TROPES flower shop au and love at first sight

PAIRING stranger!niki x fem!reader

SYNOPSIS Running a flower shop was tough, especially since it became the new hot spot in town. One particular customer, Niki, took an interest in you. The small attraction leads into an atrocious disaster, as he unintentionally makes a mess in the new place. Now leaving a bad first impression, he's stuck with embarrassment to this day. To make matters worse, it doesn't help him get over the incident when he sees you almost everywhere.

want to read? click here! (est. 13k words)

PERM TAGLIST: @soov @redm4ri @ox1-lovesick @urszn @feeeli @taejays @hanniluvi @dakkisz @dimplewonie @ddeonudepressions @xiaoderrrr @ja4hyvn @mmaplepastries @essmarye @w3bqrl @jennaissantes @yenqa @yeokii @yyunari @wvnkoi @flwrshee

#k-labels #kpop x reader #kpop fluff #kpop imagines #enhypen x reader #enhypen #enhypen sunoo #enhypen sunghoon #enhypen jake #enhypen jay #enhypen jungwon #enhypen heeseung #enhypen niki #enha x reader #enha jungwon #enha sunghoon #enha sunoo #enha jake #enha jay #enha niki #enha heeseung #enha fluff #jungwon x reader #sunghoon x reader #jay x reader #jake x reader #sunoo x reader #niki x reader #heeseung x reader #enha

[wangxianficfinder]

Fic Finder

March 15th

~*~

1. Looking for a post 1st seige burial mounds fic on ao3. It was a wip but it's been awhile so may no longer be the case. In it jc only participated in the siege as a cover to get close enough to his brother w/out endangering lotus pier. Since he leads the charge he finds wwx first and when wwx passes out after destroying the seal jc fakes wwx's death and smuggle him back to lotus pier & hides/kinda imprison him. But the longer they're together the more jc realizes a lot of the things he blamed wwx for aren't adding up (seeing through Jin manipulations).

Jc also forgot/didn't know about ayuan so when wwx wakes up he freaks out about where his baby adopted son is, but by the time jc gets back to bm yuan is no where to be found (implied lz had already got him) but jc and wwx think this means yuan is dead. Wwx is very depressed and becomes Jin ling's secret nanny whenever the kid is at lotus pier. In the most recent updates (at the time) a baby xue yang was introduced.

He saw a disguised wwx in a hidden area by lotus pier playing in the water and is basically like 'I'm cute and small too' and plots how to get himself adopted so he can also be pampered like the wealthy kid. I think there were some alternating povs. Might of been a Lan pov too, creating dramatic irony since both yuan and wwx are alive but neither side knows? Was setting up yunmeng bro reconciliation.

~*~

2. I'm looking for a specific fic, it was modern, WWX took LWJ to a concert of post modern, like synth? Chinese music and I think NHS told WWX about it?? It had some good song recs and I'm mainly looking for the the songs- if you guys could help me out? Thank you!!!! @recombinantdna

NOT FOUND! The Quiet Room by trickybonmot (M, 39k, WangXian, Modern AU, 1990s, Goth LWJ, Cellist LWJ, College Student WWX, House Hunting, Dating, Clubbing, San Francisco, Implied/Referenced Past Child Abuse, Mental Health Issues, Academic Disaster Aftermath, Getting Together, Repressed Teen Crushes to Strangers to Lovers, Homelessness, in the form of couch surfing, background NieLan) in which WWX finds LWJ being a DJ in a goth club in the 90s and it talks a lot about music. NHS is totally an enabler.

FOUND! show me a quiver, give me tonight by spookykingdomstarlight (E, 115k, wangxian, lwj/others, communication failure, mutual pining, artists, demisexual wwx, angst w/ happy ending) WY surprised LZ by bringing him to a performance of an artist LZ likes, H i d d e n f r a g r a n c e who plays electronic guqin. The sample songs can be found in the author notes in Chapter 10

~*~

3. hi! im looking for a fic and the only thing i remember from it was wangxian (canon divergence, maybe arranged marriage but im not sure) in maybe caiyi?? sitting down at a noodle place, and there was a thing about how wwx loved the gusu dialect and kept pestering lwj to say something in the dialect, and he knew enough of the dialect to flirt or haggle so when lwj said an endearment term (i think it was something like sweetheart?) he froze and got all panicky about wwx recognising the word because he froze too, but then wwx just asks if he swore?? THANK YOU SO MUCH IF YOU FIND IT ive been combing my bookmarks and history for almost weeks now and im so close to thinking i made it all up

FOUND? Your Hand in Mine by cerbykerby (T, 20k, WangXian, Humor, Comedy, Pining, cursed to hold hands, Light Angst, Sharing a Bed, First Dates, Embarrassment, Fluff, bathing together, wwx is a menace to society, and lwj Suffers A Lot, Canon Compliant)

FOUND? Fentao-laoshi’s Guide to Cut-Sleeve Pleasures by occultings (microcomets) (E, 31k, wangxian, canon divergence, pining while fucking, friends with benefits, first time, cloud recesses study arc, practice kissing, sharing a bed, jealousy, getting together, confessions, happy ending)

~*~

4. For fic finder: I have lost a modern-au fic where Lan Zhan is in the hospital, in a children’s wing, and Wei Wuxian visits a lot/volunteers there. Wei Wuxian has prosthetic legs and he gets a new red pair around the point I lost the fic. I am pretty sure I found the rec through this blog but I can’t find it again TT Help please!

FOUND? 🔒 some things go forward by everythingispoetry (T, 73k, WangXian, Modern AU, Hospitals, Teenage Drama, Slow Burn, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Happy Ending)

~*~

5. First, thank you for everything that you do ! Your posts and recommendations and "I'm in the mood for" collections have kept my heart and soul busy for years now! I am honestly in awe of all the hard work and time you dedicate to both pages! 🥰

Unfortunately I don't remember much of the summary of the fic I'm searching for, but I wanted to try my luck. 🙈 It was a light modern dom/sub fic where WY accidentally sort of turned LZ into a sub. I think by giving him indirect orders all the time? And nobody noticed until WQ pointed it out? I searched through Ao3 with the light dom/sub tag for ages and then eventually gave up.

Maybe it rings a bell for you? 🙏🤞❤️ @papperlapapp1

FOUND? And They Were Roommates! or The Accidental Domming of Lan Wangji by DizziDreams (E, 21k, wangxian, Dom WWX, Sub LWJ, inexperienced BDSM practices, un-/under- negotiated kink, horny climbing, horny cohabitation, horny on main except by main I mean at a party surrounded by innocent bystanders, Praise Kink, Masturbation, Bondage, Lingerie, Orgasm Delay/Denial, omg they were roommates, Modern, BDSM, debatably a bit of dom drop, Public Masturbation, Edging, Getting Together, WQ has to come in and straighten this shit out)

~*~

6. Okay so looking for a fic where lwj or wwx accidentally summon incubus/succubus wwx or lwj. (I can't remember who was the sex demon or who was the human but it is a wangxian fic)

So, the succubus needs food and it is, unsurprisingly, cum. As in they have to literally eat cum to survive. So the human is followed by this succubus/incubus everywhere they go to including his university.

The human does love feeding the sex demon and even lets him feed in the uni bathroom during breaks.

Does a fic like this exist? Does it ring any bell?

FOUND? An Array of Good Decisions by celerydragon (E, 11k, WangXian, Demon Sex Size Kink, Size Difference, Consensual Non-Consent, dubcon, Tongue Sex, Omegaverse, Humiliation, Mild Breeding Kink)

FOUND? Lan Wangji's Fullproof Guide on How (NOT) to Summon a Demon by fardimensions (E, 3k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Porn With Plot, but not a lot of plot, Incubus WWX, Demons, wwx has a tail, Wings, Interspecies Sex, Bottom LWJ/Top WWX, Anal Sex, Crack, Filthy, size queen LWJ)

~*~

7. for the fic finder: it's a fic (dom/sub canon au?) where wei wuxian gave lan wangji a collar before he died. lan wangji keeps the collar for as long as he can but eventually the leather is too old and it breaks. there's a bunch of sadness but all is well when wei wuxian resurrects.

thank you for all you do!!

FOUND? Breathe Again by Sheehan_sidhe (E, 4k, wangxian, Grief/Mourning, Depression, Breathplay, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, POV LWJ, LWJ Has Feelings, Submissive LWJ, Crying LWJ, Grieving LWJ, Collars, Angst with an Eventual Happy Ending)

~*~

8. for fic finder: my heart tells me it was a modern/modern with cultivation au, but my searches have been fruitless. i just remember our beloved wangxian dancing around each other, and the juniors being there with a similar problem. specifically, jin ling being tested at archery, and sizhui Totally Only There For Emotional Support And No Other Reason.

FOUND? with you, I am home by tellthemstories (M, 47k, wangxian, Modern Cultivation, fake dating for reasons, Meeting the Family, There Was Only One Bed, Casual Domesticity, wwx is oblivious in more ways than one, 'this fic is like emotional edging', this comment sums up the entire fic)

~*~

9. heyI've been looking for a fic for a while.WWX and LWJ were in the turtle's cave of slaughter... they had no energy to fight and decided to do double cultivation.

When it comes to the part where WWX donates the golden core to JC.... during the surgery, WQ discovers WWX is pregnant, the double cultivation generated a uterus.

He is still captured by the Wen clan and thrown into the grave hill.He believes he lost the baby because of this and uses his resentful energy to survive and get revenge.

When he reaches the part at the end of the campaign where the sun falls, he goes into labor without knowing that he is still pregnant.

It's not Omegaverse.

Sorry if my writing is bad, english is not my first language @crazy-tai

FOUND? Impermanence, Transience, Permanence by Best Bepsy (BepsyGray) (E, 39k, wangxian, canon divergence, unplanned pregnancy, mpreg, gore, sunshot campaign, assumed miscarriage, medical procedures, childbirth, golden core reveal)

~*~

10. Hello! I was wondering if anyone here knew of a fic that took place during the Wen Indoctrination? If I remember right, it was only one chapter, set mostly in the Untamed universe because Wei Wuxian and Wen Ning had worked together to make it seem like he was dead for the Wens after being locked in with that dog, but he was grabbed too early and basically paraded in front of the other disciples under the belief that he was dead. If anyone else has seen this fic, I'd be extremely grateful!

FOUND!🔒💖 the universe would turn to a mighty stranger by RavenclawLoki (T, 11k, wangxian, Angst, Eventual Fluff, Some mentions of blood, it looks like someone is dead but!!, it is okay, everything is going to be okay i promise, First Kiss, Canon Divergence, Wwx and lwj know they're in love, They just don't know the other loves them back, Everyone Lives AU, Hurt WWX, Hurt LWJ)

~*~

11. For your next fic finder, I'm looking for a modern wangxian dating reality tv au. It's omegaverse and in the first half of the show, everyone is paired up, but in the second half of the show, it's wilderness survival with the alphas trying to catch the omegas. Wwx is a career omega who is trying to get a cash prize instead of an alpha. @leahlisabeth

FOUND? 🧡 shoot your shot – hot or knot by defractum (nyargles) (E, 51k, WangXian, Modern AU, A/B/O Dynamics, Reality Show, Hunger Games Setting, Canon-Typical Violence, Extremely Dubious Consent, Getting Together, Happy Ending, Humor, Additional Warnings In Author’s Notes)

~*~

12. Guys I need help finding this story. So it’s about Wei ying being hit by this memory yao. And he is in pain. So lan zhan, lan yuan, lan qiren, lan huan, Jin rulan, and jiang cheng. They use this spell to take Wei ying bad memories. They hold onto this bad memories because they don’t want Wei ying to go through all of that and remember. Ofc they are traumatized but they love him, etc. sooo please if you know the name write in comments. I have been looking for it for DAYS @zodime101

FOUND? Window of the Waking Mind by mrcformoso (M, 8k, wangxian, LSZ & WWX, JC & WWX, Graphic depictions of violence, Major Character Death, Heavy Angst with a Happy Ending, Sad with a Happy Ending, Post-Canon, Torture, Golden Core Transfer, WWX Has Self-Esteem Issues, Hurt WWX, WWX Needs a Hug, WWX Needs a Break, Flashbacks, Curses, Night Hunts, Suicide, Starvation, Canonical Child Abuse, Canonical Character Death, Cannibalism, Although it was forced by the situation to survive, Healing, Hurt/Comfort, lots of comfort, Soft LQR, Learning To Communicate, Zidian Spiritual Tool, JC Tries, Reaction)

~*~

13. hi! for the next fic finder — it was sizhui centered! him being raised by lwj but also wwx, but wwx is a ghost. and wwx has no recollection of his death and there was this one scene where he curls up around ayuans body and falls asleep and he wakes in the cloud recesses and i think he thinks he's being ignored? and then there was the whole realizing he was a ghost thing. and also lwj burying his body at the bm. pls help me T^T its Not "the dark doesnt frighten me, its mine" btw!

NOT FOUND! the moon, grown full by Deinde (T, 22k, LSZ & WWX, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Spirits, Identity Reveal, discussion of war crimes, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Grief/Mourning, Hopeful Ending, Homecoming, reclaiming your name and identity, Names, Families of Choice)

FOUND! The Intervening Years by rosemu (G, 11k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, LSZ centric, Parent-Child Relationship, Wangxian is background, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort)

~*~

14. Hi! For fic finder: I am looking for a canon-era fic where cultivators have golden blood and regular people have red blood. When Wei Wuxian loses his core his blood fades to red, which means he has to work harder to hide his wounds or they will give away his core-less state. I particularly remember the scene where Jiang Cheng stabs him in their “mock” fight WWX hides his wound with a cloak. He takes to covering up his body fully from head to toe to avoid showing any scrapes. Then after he is revived and Jiang Cheng whips him he purposefully shows the red blood to “prove” he isn’t WWX, then I think the core reveal happens when Jin Ling stabs him and everyone knows its him and they see the red blood too. Thank you!!

~*~

15. I need help finding a fic, I didn’t get too far into it but I really want to finish it. I think it was a longer fic and I think it’s well known and/or already in a comp or itmf answer. I i remember is that the summary put wwx as a temporary head of the Jiang Clan, from the first few chapters I think he’s tricked/strong armed into this position by JC. He had some Buisness at koi tower or a conference that would take a while so he needed a filler and wanted WWX. I think it’s post-cannon and it had someone insulting WWX in the summary and something along the lines of a statement of spite and a declaration to prove said person wrong.

This is likely a terrible description but it’s all I have. I know I got the og link from this site so someone should recognize it… Help would be greatly appreciated.

FOUND? Twelve Moons and a Fortnight by stiltonbasket (M, 290k, WangXian, Humor, Slow Burn, Post-Canon Fix-It, Long-Distance Relationship, Epistolary, Love Letters, Family Feels, a-qing lives, teenage romance, Adoption, Romantic Comedy, Happy Ending, Weddings, Case Fic, Parenthood, Politics)

~*~

16. Hello! For the next fic finder I have two fics:

A) the only thing I remember about this fic is that it deals with the "do not speak with Wei Ying" rule. Lan Wangji was really angry when he found out and was about to go yell at his uncle, but Wei Wuxian kept trying to stop him. I remember Wwx threw himself into a pond or down a hill or something to snap Lwj out of it? I don't remember anything else about the fic unfortunately.

B) vampire au where Wwx was a vampire and the lans hunted the supernatural I think? Wangxian had to work together to stop some evil thing. I remember Wwx's backstory was something like: Wen Chao captured him and locked him in a room with a vampire, thinking it would result in Wwx dying (cultivators couldn't be turned into vampires, they would just die). But Wwx had given up his core so he got turned and Wen Chao locked him in a house with Wen Ning. There was a fire and Wwx turned Wen Ning to save his life. I also remember a scene where Wwx tried to go into Cloud Recesses, but the wards wouldn't let him. He thought this meant Lwj wanted nothing to do with him, but it was just Lan Xichen updating the wards or something.

Thank you!

16A)

FOUND?🔒Scenes From Three Winters by LtLJ (G, 12k, wangxian, post-canon, romance, family feels, family issues, family drama, PTSD, body horror, bad parent LQR, happy ending) Wei Ying throwing himself in a pond and down a hill to snap LWJ out of anger at his uncle sounds a lot like what happens at the end of Scenes from Three Winters by LtLJ but it's not specifically the 'do not speak to Wei Ying' rule that's the problem (will probably need to read other fics in the series for context)

16B)

FOUND?🔒hear the monsters calling home by sundiscus (M, 8k, wangxian, Modern Cultivation, Vampires, Misunderstandings, Angst with a Happy Ending, blood drinking (romantic))

FOUND? And you must keep your soul/ Like a secret in your throat by athena_crikey (E, 48k, WangXian, Modern with Magic, Vampire WWX, Cultivator LWJ, Case Fic, h/c Angst, Falling In Love, First Time, Reference to Torture)

~*~

17. Hi!! for the next fic finder, I was hoping of you guys could help me find a fic where it takes place in post canon: lwj cultivates to immortality even though he didn’t want to be and wwx tried hard to catch up to him but later on passes away bc he was never able to. Lwj was so devastated and during wwx’s funeral, jc came to pay respects and lwj found out that jc has also become an immortal. lwj says something along the lines of “how dare you cultivate to immortality with his core?” it might be a reincarnation fic but that’s about all i can remember from it. Thank you so much! @makkachiin

FOUND!🔒Closer Than Eternity by Netrixie (T, 26k, WangXian, Modern AU, Reincarnation, an unhealthy addiction to starbucks, Immortals, Self-Doubt, POV Alternating, Minor Original Character(s), Canon Compliant, Post-Canon, Temporary Character Death, Angst with a Happy Ending, not for jc fans, This is not a reconciliation fic) The scene at WY's funeral is in Chapter 3.

~*~

18. Hi! I hope my request will be clear, since English is not my first language, so I apologize in advance. I really want to read it, but I can't find a fic in which Lan Sizhui dies on a night hunt, saving the distracted Lan Zhan and Wei Ying. I don't remember many details, but I remember how the grief of A-Yuan's family and friends was described, and then A-Yuan was reborn. The fic was on ao3. @amelliss

FOUND? Setting Of The Sun by heartsdesire456 (M, 8k, WangXian , Character Death, Or Is It?, Grief/Mourning, Child Loss, Heavy Angst) i don't think it's reincarnation but this sounds similar to

FOUND? Our Son Reborn by RenaFair (T, 103k, WangXian, Mpreg, Deities, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Slow Build, There's smut, Rollercoaster of Emotions, baby a-yuan)

~*~

19. hi, I’m look for a fic from ao3, I can’t really remember the plot but the end was wwx absorbing the tiger seal and in the process made a SILVER core. It happened in the burial mound (I think after the seal was stolen in Lanling but that might be a different fic)the timeline was before wwx’s first death because wen Qing was still alive @teasong

FOUND? ❤️ kick at the darkness 'til it bleeds daylight by AlfAlfAlfAlfAlf, tardigradeschool (T, 75k, WangXian, Hurt/Comfort, Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Eventual Happy Ending, Getting Together, Burial Mounds Settlement Days, Inspired by The Parent Trap (1998), Kid Fic, teen shenanigans, two a-yuans, Fluff and Angst)

~*~

20. Hello! I am looking for Wangxian fanfiction where Wei Ying and Lan Zhan are lovers before Demonic cultivation and Wei Ying hurt Lan Zhan as in canon later the reunite after 13 years or something like that @abz18699-blog

~*~

#wangxian #mdzs #wangxian fic finder #wangxian fic search #the untamed #wangxianficfinder #long post

[eli0004]

Sea & Sky: An Armin x fem!Reader (Modern AU)

Synopsis: Armin, a shy, introverted Marine Biology major with an anxiety disorder and a bit of a traumatic past meets- and instantly falls in love with- a mysterious, chronically ill, Astrophysics major. Their first impression definitely isn’t romance novel worthy, in fact, Armin would describe the whole thing as disastrous, but even so, she seems to think he hung the moon. Haha, space jokes.

Genre: Fluff, PG- 13 for Drinking, swearing, mental illness, chronic illness, and mentions of fighting, additionally, TW ⚠️ for emetophobia

Part: one

If you were to ask anyone at your Uni what they thought about Armin, they’d say he was quiet. Not in a negative sense, but he was certainly peculiar. Shy, timid Armin who had been top of his class since practically kindergarten. His two best friends, Eren Yeager and Mikasa Ackerman, seemed much more social- flitting from party to party, drinking and laughing, playing games and dancing In living rooms, while Armin typically stood to the side, ever observant of his surroundings.

When approached, he was friendly nonetheless, he might tell you about his academic studies, or a book he’d read recently. He might ask how you’re doing and empathize with your situation. But if you approach him expecting to pick his brain, get close, or be let in on a secret, you’d quickly find his lips are sealed.

This mix between approachable and yet, closed off, left him surrounded by acquaintances while his inner circle remained quaint. And though the three of them were an unlikely trio, they cared for each other like family.

Anyone who had gone to grade school with them knew that Armin had been picked on for many years. He’d faced physical violence, humiliation, and much more. They’d also know that the price one paid for being a part of that often resulted in being beaten down to a pulp in the school parking lot by Eren, Mikasa, or- if the crime warranted it, both.

He was never too popular with the ladies, as most were put off by his shyness, or became disinterested once they realized he was uninterested in meaningless sex or situationships. For the most part, he was uninterested in relationships at all, preferring to focus on his academics with confidence that when it’s right, he’d find himself gravitating towards his person, pulling each other in seamlessly like the moon pulls the tides.

And when Armin saw you, the only word that came to his mind was gravitational. Your smile, your laugh, your energy. His logical brain waged war with his heart, and suddenly, love at first sight didn’t seem like such a juvenile concept. His gaze was fixed on you, curious, longing and all but entranced, and that could be seen by anyone standing close enough to him. Mikasa was the first to notice.

She’d known Armin since the three of them were children, having been introduced to each other by Eren himself. Naturally, she knew the moment she turned to follow his gaze, and a small, knowing smile ghosted her lips. And though she promised herself she’d remain uninvolved, she found herself standing next to the blonde as his eyes danced around the room to catch another glimpse of you, as if to burn every detail of your face into his mind, like he couldn’t bare to forget it.

“You should talk to her.” Mikasa spoke, leaning over to him to speak discreetly. Armin’s throat felt dry at even the mention of carrying out such a nerve wracking, bold move.

“Are you crazy? Are we looking at the same person right now?” He deadpanned, swallowing thickly. “I’m…not her type.” His eyes lowered, training themselves down as he picked at a loose thread on his jeans. Perhaps it was his own self loathing that pushed people away. Armin had never really felt good enough; even in his own circle.

“How do you know what her type is?” Mikasa rolled her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest in annoyance.

“Do you?” He quipped, lifting his head and raising a brow at her.

“Of course I do. I know her. In fact…I invited her.” She smirked. Armin’s face immediately grew red, and he brought his hands up to cover it dramatically. Of course she’d wait until then to say something.

“I…please say you’re joking!! Why didn’t you say anything, I’m embarrassed?!” He sputtered, heart racing.

“Because, I knew you’d try and pretend you haven't been staring her down for the last two hours, like it isn’t painfully obvious.”

And she was right. If Armin had known Mikasa had connections with you, he’d have denied denied denied. But she knew better, she’d come to find that he was quite predictable, always held back by his own fear of inadequacy.

“No! Is it really that obvious!?” He groaned, muffled by the sleeves of his gray blue sweater. His cheeks and ears felt hot, and he knew it was most likely visible. When Armin blushed, it started from the tip of his perfect button nose and went all the way down to his neck.

“Yeah it is, and I'm sure she’s noticed it too. Which is why you should go over there and talk to her…y’know, so she doesn’t think you’re being a weirdo.” She takes a sip of her drink, winking at him.

“Absolutely not.”

“Absolutely. I’ll come with you, let’s go.”

Mikasa took Armin by the hand, pulling him as he attempted- and failed- to dig his heels into the carpet, heart pounding. He knew she had to be at least a little tipsy by now; sober Mikasa would never force him out of his comfort zone like this, and although it could be a bit enabling at times, he missed sober Mikasa right about now. His head was swimming and he could practically hear his pulse thumping in his ears. She meant well, Armin knew that, but this- this was not the way to help.

And suddenly, he found himself standing feet away from you, watching in horror as Mikasa reached out to get your attention. Pull yourself together, he’d begged himself. He could smell your perfume, your hair looked so much softer, shinier up close. He wasn’t ready, he hadn’t thought of anything to say. His legs felt like jello and his stomach was absolutely churning. You turned around and he felt his heart leap from his chest as your eyes fell first on Mikasa as she spoke words he didn’t care to hear, and then, on him.

“Anyway, this is Armin! He’s one of my best friends, we go way back. I think you guys would get along pretty well.” Mikasa smiled cheerfully, her eyes sparkling and sleepy from the alcohol. You smiled at him, and Armin thought he might fall over and die. You were radiant, and warm.

“Hey Armin, nice to finally meet you. I saw you looking this way earlier, I wondered if you’d come say hi!” You greeted him “I don’t think I’ve seen you around, but I do most of my classes at night, or online, so that’s pretty expected.”

There was a moment of silence as he gaped at you, blue eyes wide and captivated, before he realized it was his turn to speak.

“O-oh! Yeah, it’s nice to meet you too, uhm…sorry for staring.” He looks away, scratching at the back of his neck. The room felt a bit quieter, somehow. You giggle softly, pursing your lips before speaking,

“It’s ok, I just thought I might have been doing something stupid.” And at that he smiled slightly, feeling a bit giddy.

“Yeah…I mean no, no you weren’t. I was.” He stammers. Your expression turned confused, but your smile stayed

“You were? What does that mean?”

Armin realized he didn’t know. He had no idea what he meant by that and now you think he’s a creep. He knew he’d say something stupid, why did he let Mikasa drag him over like that? He wished at that moment that the earth would swallow him whole, and he bit his lip softly, eyes darting back and forth as he racked his brain for an explanation. He felt dizzy, he needed to leave.

Just before he could politely excuse himself and run off to hide from the awkward interaction, the sound of glass shattering and loud yelling pierced through the room from mere feet away. Before he could register what was going on, you grabbed ahold of his wrist and yanked him out of the way, just as Jean Kristein was shoved, aggressively against the wall by none other than Eren Yeager himself. The two shouted at each other in drunken fury, and Eren took a swing, clocking Jean in the Jaw as people began flooding forward to pull them apart. The room was loud. Everything felt hot and muggy. Armin couldn’t breathe.

“Eren, what the fuck!” Mikasa yelled! “What are you doing?!”

“This fucker’s talking shit, and i’m tired of fucking hearing it! Say it to my face like a man, so I can beat your ass like a man!” He growled, landing another punch, and the back of Jean's head smacked the wall. Armin flinched, inching closer to you slightly. Two people attempted to restrain Eren’s arms, and lowering his head, Jean spat in his direction. His nostrils flared, eyes glaring.

“I’ll fucking rip your throat out you little-“

Suddenly Eren had torn away, ripping his arms out of the hands of his peers and lunging at him. The crowd's commotion nearly knocked Armin to the ground as the fighting continued. You turned to look at him, meeting his panicked eyes.

“Ok, ok, come on, let’s go.” You instructed him, extending your hand to him and slipping away from everyone once he’d taken it. Exiting out the back door, you pulled him with you and slammed it shut.

The cold night air whipped at your hair, nipping at the skin of your face as you quickly exited out the back door together. It was quieter out there, the sounds of fighting grew distant and, not your problem. Armin was visibly distressed, naturally leaning into you and breathing rapid, shallow breaths, eyes squeezed tightly shut. Reaching out to him, you rubbed his back slightly.

“Hey, hey, it’s alright.” You soothed, but his stomach felt sick. He was shaken up, embarrassed, anxious and scared. He was nauseous.

“Don’t look at me, I’m gonna be sick.” He pleaded, dodging your touch and scurrying away. You withdrew your hands willingly, albeit confused, but he leaned over the back porches railing and heaved, slapping his hand over his mouth. Understanding, you turned and faced away, covering your ears as he gripped the rail and emptied the contents of his stomach, humiliated.

With shaky hands, he lingered for a moment, making doubly sure it was over before he stepped back and plopped down on the wicker swing . He buried his face in his hands. Seeing movement out of the corner of your eyes, you turn to him. He looked small, vulnerable and absolutely distraught.

You felt sympathetic, seeing him so visibly dejected. You’d seen how he looked at you, and you knew he must have felt embarrassed. A moment of silence passed, cicadas chirping, he let out a soft, shaky sigh. You hesitated for a moment, but, heels clicking against the deck and arm extended, you approached him, holding out your cup.

“Here, drink this.”

Armin peers up at you through his fingers, then dropped his hands and shook his head.

“No, i don’t think it’s a good idea to-“

“It’s just water.” You interrupt. “I don’t drink.”

How peculiar, Armin thought to himself, to meet another twenty-something year old at a party, who doesn’t drink.

Reluctantly, he accepted the cup, softly inhaling its scentlessness. So it was only water. He took a gulp, washing away the taste of stomach acid on his tongue, as you dug around in your clutch for a piece of gum and some gravol.

“Here, this too. It’s just an over the counter nausea remedy, it’ll help settle your stomach.”

Armin nodded, accepting it with shaky hands.

“Thank you.” He trailed off, quietly gazing downward before speaking once again. “I-i’m so sorry…for…that.” He quickly gesture towards the porch railing. You scoff, crossing your arms.

“What? Are you kidding, it happens, Armin, you don’t have to apologize.”

He said nothing, pulling his legs to his chest and resting his chin on his knee. The silence was thick, and you stared out at the moonlit tree line, leaning back against the wall where you stood.

The night had been disastrous. When he’d agreed to come out with Eren and Mikasa earlier that evening, Armin hadn’t even considered such an unfortunate chain of events. He mentally kicked himself, wishing he’d just said no. And furthermore, If Mikasa hadn’t forced him to talk to you, he’d have never humiliated himself in front of you like he had. If Eren hadn’t gotten shitfaced and tried to kill Jean, he definitely wouldn’t have humiliated himself like he had, emptying his stomach in front of you, drinking your water, chewing your gum.

But, how sweet of you, giving up your things for a goofy idiot like him, the thought of it gave him butterflies.

He tilted his head towards you slowly, glancing in your direction, that feeling of magnetic attraction consuming him once again. A crisp breeze rustled the trees quietly and tousled a few blonde wisps of his hair, and his eyes curiously examined your face. The curve of your jaw, the plumpness of your lower lip, the way you blinked softly as your eyes focused in on the view. So entranced, he was, that he never even noticed how you’d turned your head to meet his gaze.

“Armin?”

“Hm~”

“You’re staring.”

Nothing had ever made him snap back to reality so quickly in his life. He groaned softly, shoulders slumping forward. There was no use in trying to deny it.

“m’ sorry” he whispered quietly. You shook your head, softly clicking your tongue at him.

“Don’t apologize, I think it’s nice.”

Armin glanced at you as if he were looking for confirmation that you’d meant that, but he quickly looked back to the ground. He was silent for a moment, before he cleared his throat and spoke,

“I’m not usually that much of a coward. I mean, I'm a coward, but…”

“You’re not a coward.” You interrupted, pushing yourself off the wall and sliding into place next to him on the other end of the porch swing. You slipped out of your shoes and crossed your legs, holding the decorative pillow that rested there before you, in your lap against your chest. “I could tell you were feeling anxious way before Eren threw Jean across the room. I get it.”

“Well…yeah, I guess you’re right. But I was also just really nervous.” He sighed, voice shaky. His eyes met yours for a moment and you smiled knowingly, a soft giggle passing your lips.

“You don’t have to be nervous, Armin, I don’t bite.”

He smiled, resting his chin against his knee once again. Though the sky was dark and chilly, the porch lighting cast a warm glow over him, his skin looked soft, his blonde hair turned golden like honey. The redness had never left his cheeks.

“Good to know.” He giggled, slapping a mosquito off his arm. “…uh, by the way, you said earlier you’re a student? What’s your major?”

You laughed out loud before you could think to stop yourself, and somewhat nervously too,

“Ah..Astrophysics” you said, with a bashful smile. “dorky, i know.”

“Wow! No that’s..actually really cool, you must be really smart! Jeez, now I feel like I’m standing in your shadow.” He laughed. His laugh was cute, airy and soft. You wondered if he even realized how much more comfortable he seemed, now that the commotion had died down.

“What? Aren’t you studying Marine Biology? That’s definitely just as impressive!” You raised a brow at him, scoffing in disbelief. Armin gaped at you.

“I never told you that…how did you know?” he asked. How did you know?

“I’m pretty sure I remember Mikasa telling me she had a smart friend who studied ocean science, but…i kinda just guessed. You look like the type.”

Armin snorted, smiling to himself.

“Thanks?”

“I mean it kindly! You remind me of the ocean, what with those blue eyes and all.”

As if he couldn’t possibly fall harder for you, then you go and say something like that. Armin felt his cheeks burn and he smiled brightly, giggling at your words. What a compliment, he’d never felt so flattered.

“Thank you!” He chirped.

“No problem…hey, do you know anything cool about sharks?” You ask, glancing at your nails. Armin giggled, thinking for a moment.

“Sharks? Uh…ok…well, sharks have this unique kind of skin that makes them smooth when you stroke them one way, but rough and abrasive when you go across their skin in the other direction. There's even a word for it in the science world, countershading, where an animal changes color depending on how the sun's rays hit their bodies. So, if a shark was approaching you head-on, it would be very hard for you to see it because it blends in with the water, but if the water was behind it, you could tell much easier.”

“Aw, sharks are such cute lil guys.”

“Cute until they sneak up on you in camouflage.” He laughs. “Now you tell me something about space.”

“Uhh…i don’t know, uhm…There could easily be as many as 10 billion Earth-like planets in the Milky Way alone. Life on other planets is a lot more likely than people realize…it’s kind of silly to think that we’re the only ones.”

“So you believe in aliens?” He asked, tilting his head toward you, fully invested.

“Did you hear anything I said?” You laughed, rolling your eyes at him playfully. He giggled along with you, happily, eyes twinkling. You sighed, leaning back against the swing.

“Look at us, hm? Isn’t it poetic?” You spoke softly, letting your eyes flutter closed. “Sea and sky.”

Armin looked at you then, his heart skipped a beat at your words and his palms felt a bit sweaty as he wiped them off on his jeans. The way you spoke to him, those honeyed words, with such nonchalant expression. Like it came naturally to you to be so flirty. Or perhaps you just…really liked him. But Armin was never one to read into things.

“Yeah…i guess it is, huh?” He sighed.

“Oh, there you are, i was looking everywhere for you. Sasha and I have to take Eren home, he won’t stop trying to pick fights, Armin, did you still need a ride?” Mikasa spoke, swinging the door open and breaking the comfortable silence. She looked up from her phone and your eyes met her smokey, heavily lined ones, before she glanced back to Armin. “Oh” she said, smirking at the boy “Am I interrupting something?”

“Ah-no, it’s fine…we were just talking.” He quickly stands, brushing himself off and turning back to look at you. “I’m sorry, I have to go but-“

“Here.” You stand, handing him your phone. “Put your number in, I’ll text you tonight.”

And you did. You’d texted him as soon as you walked into your apartment, slipping off your shoes and climbing into bed. You hadn’t pushed yourself too hard, but the aches in your joints and the tension in your muscles was ever present. You’d taken a painkiller or two, placed your phone on your pillow next to you, curling up in the sheets, your cat settling in next to you, and you fell asleep.

Armin had anxiously awaited your message, typing and sending a response almost instantly. He worried when you hadn’t responded, but he took a few deep breaths, and then took a few more. Your message came late in the following morning, apologizing for the delay and telling him you’d had a lovely time talking to him.

“When can i see you again?” You’d asked.

#attack on titan #aot #aot x reader #aot headcanons #aot smut #aot x y/n #attack on titan armin #armin arlert smut #armin arlert headcanons #armin headcanons #armin arlert x reader #sub armin #armin x reader #armin aot #armin arlert #subby armin #armin attack on titan #armin arlet x reader #armin arlert fluff

[cuffmeinblack]

Andrew Larson headcanons

General & SFW romantic

⤍ Andrew Larson masterlist ⤎

General

💙 Andrew is quiet and reserved by nature, as well as friendly, honest and loyal.

💙 In many ways a typical Ravenclaw with a thirst for knowledge, he's a bookworm but also has an adventurous spirit and is also very creative.

💙 He enjoys travelling to sate his curiosity but isn't much of a duellist and has no desire to endanger himself or others. You're more likely to find him in a museum or art gallery than chasing down hidden relics.

💙 He finds 'forbidden' knowledge and darker forms of magic fascinating but as a pretty straight-laced guy he's terrified of being found out or people getting the wrong impression. His interest really is purely academic. Luckily, he had no problems gaining access to the forbidden section of the library at Hogwarts due to his stellar reputation.

💙 Picked as a prefect in sixth year and Head Boy in seventh. For the most part enforced the school rules, though he was known for being soft on those he liked.

💙 There weren't many classes he didn't like at Hogwarts but never saw the appeal of Divination like many of his other classmates. He says this was because it's such an inaccurate branch of magic but it's actually because he saw the Grim in a teacup and decided he didn't want to know anymore about his fate.

💙 After Hogwarts I can see him going into research or maybe becoming a healer; anything that requires constantly bettering himself and acquiring knew knowledge.

💙 He would need some form of creativity in his chosen career, whether creating art or applying it to problem solving.

💙 He wears reading glasses and is slightly self conscious about it.

💙 He's a cat person.

SFW romantic

💙 He'd be a wreck for days before working up the courage to tell you how he feels. An admission of his feelings would be a big deal, requiring a romantic and private location, a gift or thoughtful gesture to accompany it.

💙 Andrew is very much a gentleman when it comes to romance. He insists on traditionally courting, hand-holding and chaste kisses for your first few dates.

💙 When it comes to a romantic partner, he wants to know the real you. A pretty face isn't all he's interested in; he prioritises kindness, empathy and a curiosity to match his own.

💙 He isn't likely to be intimate with someone he doesn't know. He needs an emotional connection with the person before pursuing anything physical.

💙 His primary love languages are acts of service and quality time.

💙 He enjoys giving gifts more than receiving them, putting thoughtful touches into every birthday and special occasion, or giving you a bunch of your favourite flowers or a book he thinks you'd like for no other reason than to see you smile.

💙 He's a romantic and sees the beauty in the word.

💙 When dating Andrew, you can expect quiet days curled up with a pot of tea and a stack of books, art galleries and exhibitions, exploring hidden parts of whatever place you happen to be in.

💙 He can be a little insecure which can lead to jealousy but he won't show it. He's got a level head on his shoulders and good emotional maturity, so he'll sit you down and talk to you if something is bothering him.

💙 His partner is the most important person in his life and he's very loyal. He expects the same in return.

💙 As for future plans, he wants to spend his youth travelling and focusing on his career but will eventually want to settle down to build a stable home life.

💙 Andrew comes from a small family himself so one or two children seem like a manageable amount to him. He'd equally be happy with none, if that's what his partner wanted.

#andrew larson #andrew larson headcanons

[merakiui]

Love me Not

yandere!riddle rosehearts x (female) reader cw: yandere, arranged marriage, unhealthy behaviors, strained/toxic relationship, obsession, brief description of minor blood/gore, abuse, captivity

Riddle Rosehearts entered your life at a time when both of you were of juvenile ages. He had mastered complicated magic that earned him his fair share of praise and envy from those who caught wind of his achievements. You often overheard mumblings of his talents from the impressed adults and curious children who surrounded you at social gatherings, all of them raving with fabricated gossip. Though Riddle himself rarely frequented these events to attest for his own skills, his mother and her illustrious namesake were more than enough evidence to provide a truthful basis to the stories told about her prodigious son.

And when the golden child did accompany her he was radiant light, so bright that every guest was a mere moth in comparison.

She crossed paths with your father one fateful day, took notice of the way you hid behind his legs like an innocent wallflower, and flashed you a practiced, motherly smile. When she bent down to greet you, a twinkle in her intelligent eyes, you were hesitant to grab her extended hand. Interacting with adults was not your forte, and you’d prefer to spend that time frolicking with your peers. Nevertheless, you were enchanted with the sharp edges her beauty boasted—an appearance so carefully cultivated you’d have to utilize a magnifying glass if you wished to find any flaw within her.

From rose-red lips, a deceptively poisonous inquiry fell: “Would you like to meet my son?”

Your hand had fit into hers, small and trembling, and she’d shook it firmly. Mirth crinkled her eyes, but the emotion itself did not seem to fit on her face. Her image reminded you of the many ladies you’d viewed in portraits: frigid and distant, a judge fraught with eternal disappointment, never to be pleased no matter how much you worked to attain her acknowledgment.

And yet here she was, peering at you rather than through you.

Perhaps a more accurate correction would be something along the lines of you entering Riddle’s life, unwillingly and unexpectedly. It had been covertly planned the moment his mother discovered you and took an interest in your quiet demeanor and expensive background. You must have shown some sort of promise in magic, academics, or the social sphere if one of the most esteemed magic doctors in all of the Queendom of Roses was extending a personal invitation for you and your father to visit her home and discuss whatever it was adults liked to talk about.

You know now that it was for the sake of betrothal—to pair you and Riddle together even though neither of you had ever met. With no say in the matter, you could only swallow your dreams of a storybook romance and accept the path that was being laid out, cobble by cobble.

Looking back on such a distant memory, you can faintly recall your father’s reaction to such a sudden offer. His lips had curled into what you assumed to be a courteous smile, and he addressed the beautiful woman standing before him with friendly reverence. It was decided then and there that you would be introduced to your first love, orchestrated by two adults snagging a glittering opportunity. Status and wealth were great influences in their decision, as well as your father’s profession as a scholar and current heir to a successful business, but at your age you had never truly considered the importance of such frivolous things. The only concerns in your life were coloring with broken crayons, losing your favorite toys, and eating foods that looked—and probably tasted—disgusting. You did not care for marriage or economics or confusing dramas unless it was for the sake of playing pretend, an exciting pastime you entertained often.

Riddle was, in your own perception, timid. A good-natured, compliant child who smiled when asked and put on an amiable act in the face of rare company, but still timid nonetheless. He had been trained well—a pampered hound trapped under the weight of a generational collar, obedience engraved into his very being. When his silver hues fell upon you, analyzing your anxious movements as you plucked at the lacy hem of your spring dress, the mundanity of routine fell away and a new fortune presented itself. Those dull hues grew wide and curious, but he had restrained himself from showing any other signs of his obvious intrigue, lest he face punishment for exercising human emotion.

The leash, though invisible, was unbearably short, and he was not permitted to do most things an average child could. At the time, you’d associated it with tragedy—a baffling impossibility in which you couldn’t begin to fathom.

“Riddle, dear, this is Mr. (Surname) and his daughter (Name). Mr. (Surname) is a very talented artisan and scholar. Most of your toys come from his shop.”

And yet despite what she claimed, you couldn’t see any toys strewn about or situated neatly on the shelves. Instead, thick textbooks were arranged according to genre, most of which were for educational purposes and would no doubt bore you to death should you flip through one. You caught yourself wondering where the storybooks were—the kind that involved tales of valiant knights and strong-willed royalty. Fantasy stories that were bright and had happy endings. In the eyes of a child, mathematics and history were not as appealing as true love’s kiss.

Riddle had blinked owlishly at your father, as if struggling to comprehend what this introduction meant, before nodding and going through the motions of a formal greeting—all the while his mother observed his every movement, pride reflected in her stern countenance.

Once greetings had been put to rest, Riddle’s mother instructed her son to show you around, waving the both of you off with a flick of her delicate wrist. It was to be, in her own words, a ‘tolerated respite from studying.’ You weren’t familiar with what she meant, but Riddle thanked her sincerely and gestured for you to follow him. Your fingers reached for your father’s sleeve, seeking comfort in his presence, but he grabbed your hand and squeezed it instead. He smiled down at you, his trademark it’ll be okay smile. And without any other option, you slid off of the couch and bounded after Riddle.

It was an awkward first meeting, in which neither of you knew how to truly start a conversation without interrupting the other. And that led to a tiresome cycle of I apologize, you go first and I insist, you first. Eventually, you had the idea to do what all adults did at parties: gossip. And that certainly halted all interjections.

“What do you think they’re talking about?”

He glanced down the hall, brows scrunched in thought. “I’m not sure, but it must be something important. Mama said you’ll be my bride one day.”

“That can’t be,” you said, waving the possibility of marriage aside with a scoff. “Maybe you’re in trouble.”

His face fell at the jest and he shook his head, cleared his throat, and said, “That’s impossible.”

A tiny smile sprouted on your lips while you gazed at the various paintings that hung on the walls. “What do you do for fun?”

“I study.”

“That’s it?”

“Am I... Am I meant to do more than that?”

“Of course!” You skipped down the hall, running your fingers along the cream-colored wallpaper as you went. Riddle followed behind you with meek steps. “You’re supposed to play and imagine all sorts of fun things! My friends and I like to pretend we’re saving each other from an evil queen.” You turned around to gauge his reaction. “You’ve played pretend before, haven’t you?”

“Um… How do you play pretend?”

“You use your imagination. Duh.” You pointed at one of the paintings. It was a bright landscape with sprawling hills and a quaint cottage. “You make something out of nothing. Like that house in the painting. Maybe it’s a secret base for spies and the reason it’s so isolated is because... Uh. Well—”

“Because it’s logical to keep to yourself when you have secrets?”

“I guess? But maybe it’s better to blend in. Maybe the spies are just good at hiding and don’t have any need for disguises.”

“Spies? No one lives in that house.”

“You don’t know that.”

He puffed his cheeks out at you. “I do know! It’s an abandoned house. There isn’t any yellow paint to indicate light, so therefore it’s empty.”

“It is not.”

“It is, too!”

“Not!”

“Yes, it is! Look with your eyes and you’ll see!”

This continued for another minute until you broke the unending banter with a giggle. Riddle paused mid-debate. A smile was beginning to blossom on his lips and it wasn’t long until he was laughing alongside you. When you clasped his hands in a firm hold and he mirrored your amusement, the first thorn embedded itself in your heart. It was hardly worth noticing, but it remained, silently sharp. And it would only grow sharper with every link added to the vine-like chain that connected you and Riddle.

“Let’s try again. This time, tell me what you see in that painting.”

“I see a garden of bluebells and, within it, a princess in a cottage.”

i. the first petal is plucked from the white rose: “she loves me.” to what extent does she love you? “a little, i’m certain.”

The neatly wrapped package fits into Trey’s outstretched hands. He stares at the pristine bow, brows raised, before stepping aside to allow you entry into the labyrinthine garden. You pass him gracefully, offering a tiny, close-lipped smile. Mischief shimmers in your eyes and the Vice Housewarden takes notice of it with a poorly concealed grimace. 

“Riddle has spent a lot of time preparing for your arrival,” he warns you, holding your gaze for a moment. Then he grins, charming as always, and adds, “He’ll be happy to see you.”

“I was hoping he wouldn’t bother.” You glance at the beautiful roses blooming on the perfectly trimmed hedges and reach for the lone white blossom amidst a sea of green and red. It’s torn from its stem seconds later and you listen to the sound of the bud snapping free with cruel satisfaction. “There we go. Just saved you from a beheading. You’re welcome.”

Trey inhales an exhausted breath, but he doesn’t release it. He knows better than to sigh in your presence. You’ve told him before that it hardly matters—that there should be no need for him to play damage control when you’re around—but he insists on doing it anyway. When the shredded petals scatter from your palm like trickling rain, he waves his magic pen so that they’re colored red. And then he follows after you as you venture deeper into the maze. 

A long table with a crisp, white tablecloth greets you when you emerge into the clearing, and chairs are positioned around it. Plates filled with various baked goods decorate the surface, tempting you with their sweet aroma. The scene has been yanked from one of your childhood storybooks and reprinted into reality. Save for Prince Less-Than-Charming, who sits at the head of the table with a permanent scowl, the tea party is, otherwise, a coveted nostalgia.

“You’ve outdone yourself,” you mutter, awestruck.

Trey chuckles. “This is nothing I can’t handle. But if you must compliment me, save it until after you’ve tried the tart. Riddle had me make your favorite.”

Your favorite, he says. It’s not actually your favorite. It’s Riddle’s, but you’ve never made that distinction clear. What Riddle enjoys, you enjoy. That’s how it’s always been and you suspect it will remain that way for the rest of your life.

Riddle’s youthful face is as sharp and stern as his mother’s, a trait only a true Rosehearts child could inherit, and his eyes are narrowed at the pocket watch clasped in his gloved hand. His gaze lifts when you walk down the length of the table and find your chair beside him. Before you seat yourself, you lower into a halfhearted curtsy and allow a polite smile to take up residence on your lips.

“You’re late.” He flicks his wrist at Trey, who departs without another word.

“Only fashionably,” you retort, smoothing the wrinkles in your skirt before sitting. Your legs cross at the ankles, fingers interlacing gently, and you keep your posture in check. “I almost didn’t come, but Father insisted on it—said your mother would complain endlessly if I refused to visit her golden child.”

He frowns, unimpressed. “You should know it’s common courtesy to visit loved ones when you have the time.”

But do I love you? you’re tempted to ask.

“My apologies. It’s a good thing I showed up this time.”

“This time,” he echoes, hands curling into fists as the memory resurfaces. You think he might break earlier than you were expecting, but to your surprise he clears his throat and adds, “Well, let’s hope this will prove to be an enjoyable afternoon.”

“We’ll see.”

At the very least, playing tea party with Riddle is far more tolerable than having to face his mother or argue with your father about the arrangement. You’re not sure why any of them put in the effort anymore. It’s pointless to force a bird with clipped wings to fly. Most of these meetings are for formality’s sake more than anything else. Neither you nor Riddle care much for the happenings in your lives. This is just an obligation—another rule that must be followed whether you like it or not.

As he fills your porcelain teacup, you observe your surroundings. Heartslabyul is charming with its extravagant color palette. Red is much too bold for someone of your tastes, but you’ll admit it complements the dorm’s theme. In the past you might have enjoyed seeing it so often—on flowers, on silverware, on clothes—but the hue has been forced onto you so many times that it’s become an eyesore. It doesn’t help that the color has bled into Riddle. He’s practically a walking splotch of red paint.

He sets the teapot down after he’s fixed himself a cup and you watch the steam rise and curl from the rosy liquid. The garden is far too peaceful for your liking. Other than the vibrant roses on the trees and shrubbery, the only other sign of life here appears to be you and Riddle. You can’t help but wonder what commands he gave to keep everyone out of the garden for this occasion. Perhaps you should have asked Trey for the details when he welcomed you.

"My mother has allowed the two of us to go on a weekend excursion,” Riddle announces around the rim of his teacup. It’s poised just at his lips as he examines your face for a reaction you have yet to give. 

"That’s impossible,” you eventually reply, tone clipped. “I doubt she would agree to something so...” You search for the right adjective as you sip at the warm beverage. Even though it has been sweetened with two sugar cubes, you can still taste the faintest hint of underlying bitterness. “Distracting.” 

“Regardless, it’s what she wants, and if she thinks it’s for the best…” He nods to himself. “This is not something you can weasel out of. I will not allow it.”

“It must be pretty important.” You lean back in your chair, disposing of your posture even when Riddle scoffs and reminds you to sit properly. You let the admonishment roll off your shoulders. “I assume my father had a hand in this?”

“Perhaps.” Another idle sip. He’s looking at you with an indistinguishable glint in his silver hues. “It’s meant to strengthen our bond.”

“We don’t have a bond.”

“Well, we must if we are to be wed one day. Honestly, do you ever listen?” He shakes his head in disapproval. “In any case, the getaway will span the weekend. I’m sure you can make time in your schedule for two days.”

“I don’t have much of a choice.” You tap your fingernail against the side of the cup. Riddle’s eye twitches and he opens his mouth to scold you. “Where exactly will we be going?”

“A private cabin.”

“Ah, I see how it is. She wants us to get accustomed to living together. A practice run of the future.”

“It’s sensible.”

“It’s annoying.”

Riddle sighs. “The fact still stands that you are my fiancée. There’s nothing I can do to change that.”

“You could—I don’t know—cancel the engagement? Tell your mother it’s not going to work out. Find someone you can actually love and tolerate. Or we could stop meeting like this and it might—”

“Enough.” His glare sends a lance of ice through your heart. “I will do no such thing. Our relationship is fine as it is.” Before he can work himself into a frenzy, Riddle lifts the lid off of a silver platter, revealing a delicious-looking strawberry tart. “Trey made it. I’m sure you’ll find it’s to your liking.”

Of course it is, you think, straightening up in your chair. I had to learn to like it for your sake.

He serves you a slice and you poke at the strawberry purée with the prongs of your fork. “What are your thoughts on it?”

Surprise dances on his face for a mere second before it melts away into indifference. Throwing him a bone every now and then is your speciality. Just when he thinks you’re in a nasty mood, spewing negativity like a fire-breathing dragon, you soften your tone and ask him for his opinion. Or you’ll tell him he looks handsome. Or you’ll praise him for his academic achievements. Sometimes it works wonders and sometimes it doesn’t. From the way a gentle smile graces his features, you’ve tamed him this time.

“It will be beneficial to our relationship.” It’s a practiced line; you recognize it at once because it’s a variation of what you’ve been using for years. It’s for the benefit of our families. The line that everyone hears when they ask about your betrothed—when they gush about just how lucky you are and lavish the both of you with hollow compliments. “No relationship is without its thorns. Perhaps a weekend in solitude can mend our distaste for one another.”

“Maybe.” You can’t possibly imagine Riddle’s mother orchestrating this. Your father might pull a stunt like this, but she would never let the idea come to fruition, not when it takes away from her son’s studies. And yet it’s already happening—on a precious weekend, no less. “Two days won’t be so terrible. What could go wrong?”

Riddle hums in both agreement and satisfaction. He’s cutting into his own slice of tart, happily savoring the taste of sweet strawberry. You mirror his actions, stabbing at a chunk and bringing it to your lips. As always, Trey’s baking is divine and you can’t help but melt alongside Riddle, enjoying the flavor for a brief moment. When the two of you eat in silence like this, everything is veiled in serene normalcy. The air is still in the garden, as if it wishes to relish in the comforting quiet alongside you, and Riddle’s thorns have been removed.

But like many instances in the past, you choose to disturb it.

“Do you remember when you collared me last time?” You clean cream from your fork slowly, like a spider creeping along its web, and gaze at Riddle. “You claimed I stole something and that according to the Queen of Hearts—rule fifty-three, if I remember correctly—all stolen items must be replaced.” 

“That’s right.” His eyes narrow. “I removed it after both parties thoroughly apologized. The matter was resolved, so I see no reason to return to old news.”

“That’s a shame.” You look for Trey among the bushes. “I had a gift prepared for you. It wouldn’t be very polite of me if I failed to adhere to the rules. I gave it to Trey, but I haven’t the faintest clue where he’s gone.”

“Is that so?” Riddle sighs and then adds, in a louder voice, “Trey.”

He’s walking over seconds later, the gift in his hands. You smile, pleased with the red stains that have bled into the white wrapping paper. Perhaps the color is good for one thing after all.

“I don’t think you would appreciate this gift,” he admits sheepishly, an odd look in his eyes. He’s getting better at this. You wonder if this will be a new record for him—if his guess is correct, that is. “Perhaps it would be best if—”

“The gift, Trey.” Riddle holds his hands out, impatience lining his tone. “I will not ask again.”

His eyes slide to yours and you nod encouragingly. “I’m merely returning what’s owed. There’s nothing dubious about that, is there, Trey?”

With a frown, Trey hands your gift off to Riddle, who observes the packaging with intense scrutiny. He clears space on the table for it before carefully pulling at the bow until it comes undone. You lean back in your seat, as if bracing for an impact that has yet to come, and watch as Riddle unwraps the present.

“It’s truly a shame your mother isn’t here. I’m sure this would have been her breaking point,” you mutter absently, tapping your manicured fingernail against the table.

Lying in the box amidst blood-stained, silky lace is a heart. Riddle stares at it, the lid of the box gripped tightly in his resolute hands.

Trey sucks in a tense breath. “I can assure you no harm was intended with this…joke.”

Your dearest fiancé remains silent, seemingly at a loss for words, before a delighted laugh spills from his lips. “I’ll admit it makes for a surprising show.” His smile is cruel and sharp, the thread not having snapped yet, as he turns his grey stare on you. “Tell me, (Name), what has prompted such a visceral display?”

“I’m just returning what I stole.”

“I see.” The lid is back on the gift, concealing the heart from view, and Riddle hands it off to Trey, shooing him away so that he may focus his attention on you. “I’m willing to overlook these slights for today, considering you’ve amused me with your foolish behavior. Although I must know—what was the purpose in doing this? Surely you’re not as impulsively thoughtless as I once assumed.”

“It doesn’t really matter anymore.” You push your plate away in disgust.

“It does matter.” He inhales sharply, holds his breath for a moment, and then releases it. His tone is softer this time, measured. “You have a reputation to uphold, as do I.”

“‘And you’re doing a poor job of it’ is what you want to say, right?”

“It’s a relief I won’t have to spell it out for you.” Riddle folds his arms over his chest. “Consider yourself lucky I’m willing to put up with your childish antics.”

“Childish?” you sputter, nearly losing your composure. Who is he to say such a thing when all these years the immature one has been him? “You know very well that I don’t care about reputations.”

“You should. If you are to carry the Rosehearts namesake and the reputation that is attached to it, you ought to act like one.”

“The last thing I want to inherit is your surname.” You rise from your seat. “If a pig’s heart isn’t enough to deter you, what will? What must I do to get you to hate me? To cancel the engagement? Tell me, Riddle. Tell me so that I can do it and be done with you.”

“Sit back down. I won’t entertain your tantrums.” 

"No.” It slips out before any other offending remarks can and the irritated look that flashes across Riddle’s face is so very pleasing to witness. In the past it might have frightened you and you’d have obeyed at once, but you’re no longer the timid girl who used to fear responsibilities and fierce rage. “No, I don’t think I will.”

“You’re being unreasonably insolent!” he snaps, porcelain face dyed in creeping red. He, too, rises out of his seat, a glower morphing his usually delicate features into something vicious. “I will not allow you to ruin yet another perfect tea party! It would be in your best interest to sit down before you lose your head.” Those last few words are hissed through grit teeth.

Part of you wants to snap at him like you’ve done in the past, but nothing substantial has ever come from it and you’re always left more unsatisfied than you were originally. It’s moments such as this one where you must remind yourself that a level head is better than one filled with hatred. Riddle’s temper is not something to trifle with, but you’ve found that poking a sleeping bear is an invigorating way to invite it to devour you. You can only dream of the day when you push him to shattering and he finally declares that the engagement is over—that he’s finished with this troubling act and the stress it puts on him. Unfortunately he’s yet to say anything related to that, so you’re left to sit shackled in your private birdcage, gloomy and alone. You never know what his true feelings are on the arrangement—whether he wants to cancel it or keep up this tiresome charade. You certainly want the former.

“My apologies, Riddle.”

He sneers. “If you were truly sorry, you would mean it. There is no sincerity in your eyes.”

"You’re right. That’s exactly why I won’t feel anything when I leave.”

“I forbid you from doing so! If you take one step out of these gardens—”

“This weekend trip is the last thing we’ll ever do together.” You look him in the eyes as you utter your next line, one that has been burning the tip of your tongue for years. “After that, I’m ending the engagement myself.”

Your skirt swishes in a swoop of ruffled linens, pristine fabric muddied with specks of blood, as you begin the brisk walk through the floral maze. Riddle’s high-pitched threats fall on deaf ears, as does the bomb that has finally detonated. You can already feel the phantom weight of the collar—can taste the bitterness of iron as you bite your tongue and await the reprimanding that’s in store for you. But in that moment you can’t bother with your worries because it’s so very freeing to crawl out of your rusted birdcage, wings spread wide. And once you survive this weekend you’ll finally be able to wash your hands of the infamous crimson stain.

You skip through Night Raven College’s grand campus, a wide grin splitting your lips and a celebratory hum rising in your throat.

I can handle two days.

ii. the second petal is plucked from the white rose: “she loves me not.” to what extent does she not love you? “a lot, i fear.”

The changes came with Riddle. Not all at once, thankfully, but they overwhelmed you as the years flew by. Your demeanor was the first to be modified. Your father instructed you to smile more—to be more open and approachable when you interacted with other children and adults. You weren’t meant to be seen as a shy, reserved child. When it came to the public, you were to put on a cheerful act so that they would see you as who you were being sculpted as: a joyous fiancée, a polite member of high society, and an acquiescent daughter. In private, when you were alone with your heavy thoughts, you were free to voice your complaints to the stuffed animals crowding your bed.

They listened with deaf ears, stitched lips unable to utter a single consolation.

Changes to your wardrobe were made next. Your spring dresses with cute, flowery accents and pastel colors were ripped from you by unforgiving hands and replaced with prim outfits that complemented Riddle’s color scheme. Dresses and skirts were to be knee-length and you could no longer play outside, lest you dirty your outfit and reputation with nature’s filth and rumors. White became a staple for you, courtesy of Riddle’s mother’s taste in demure fashion. She made sure to cultivate you as the white rose who would match Riddle’s red. And if anyone who garnered her disapproval invaded the garden in which the both of you flourished, she would ensure they never returned.

Most of your friends were snipped away, deemed worthless weeds by a gardener’s cruel shears. You met Riddle’s friends in secret—a polite boy named Trey and a mischievous cat who went by Che’nya. They were an enjoyable pair and Riddle was especially ecstatic to introduce you to them. But they weren’t your friends, much like how every aspect of your slowly evolving personality became increasingly unrecognizable with each day spent caged in a betrothal. 

One day, you spied your reflection in a hand mirror and came to a heartbreaking conclusion. You had become a byproduct of the criteria laid out for Riddle—a mere shadow doomed to cling to its creator, never straying too far. Silent and devoted, held captive in light and snuffed at dark.

When your mannerisms and outfits aligned with his, your diet was next on the chopping block. Your father, who used to treat you to your favorite pastry every Saturday morning, stopped giving you sweets altogether. He had said that sugar would only lead to health problems and that a good fiancée should follow in her future groom’s footsteps. Perhaps, if you read enough cookbooks and admired the photos of delicious baked goods, you might learn how to convert images into tangible foods for your own whimsy.

It didn’t bother you at first—that’s what you would think when you’d twist and turn in your bed at night, struggling with the same ever-present nightmare. There was no time to develop a fear of change because it was already happening to your identity, your way of life, and even your own thoughts. Eventually, mourning these changes wasn’t enough. You could resent the circumstances all you wanted, but nothing would resolve itself if you weren’t actively working towards a solution. Dedication and hard work are the things that earn you a place at the dinner table—a line you often heard your father recite. 

If they wouldn’t listen when you spoke their language—calm and elegant, always submissive—then you would shout until the fluffy clouds above could hear your desperation. And only then would change come. 

On the eve of your thirteenth birthday, rebellion sank its teeth into you. Thunderous rains poured, battering the windows in an angry torrent of glacial tears. You and Riddle stood in the doorway, thoroughly drenched and muddied, while his mother and your father stared in disbelief.

“Unbelievable…” she muttered, shaking her head. Your father placed a comforting hand on her arm, but she shook him off. “What is the meaning of this? Why are you so filthy?”

Riddle paled at her shrill cadence. “Mama, please forgive—”

“There was a bird. It had fallen from its nest and died. I wanted to give it a proper burial.”

“A burial? Good heavens, you’re a lady! Where have your manners gone?”

You gathered fistfuls of your soaked skirt, fighting the rush of flustered tears that sprung forth. You had heard that word a lot—lady. Whenever you did something remotely unsavory, you were deemed foul and dirty, as if raising your voice or failing to curtsy were things that could sully you. As if it would soak through the purity in your bones and taint the very marrow that resided there.

“I have manners! A good lady pays her respects, even if she wasn’t intimately acquainted with the deceased. That’s what anyone would do, r-right? It’s... It’s the proper way to act.”

“A lady would not carelessly touch the dead, lest she wishes to catch an illness, and she most certainly wouldn’t lower herself to the ground while it’s howling a gale!” Her gaze fell upon Riddle, a guillotine’s blade that cut him down before he could even attempt to argue your innocence. “And you! You are to be her groom one day. This sort of behavior is unbecoming of a young man. Recklessly entertaining foolish whims without having considered the consequences… I’ve taught you better than that, surely.”

You looked to Riddle for salvation, whispering, “Tell her we meant well. Please, Riddle. We didn’t expect it to start raining. Tell her that—”

“I apologize for my behavior. It was (Name)’s idea in the first place, but I will reflect on the consequences of my actions.” 

“What? N-No! We agreed to go out together! He said he’d help me dig the hole!”

Riddle’s expression morphed into one of shock. You felt the energy drain from your soul as he shook his head, fiery locks swishing wildly.

“That’s preposterous! I said no such thing!”

“But you did! You said—”

“That is enough.” His mother stepped between the both of you, an unyielding barricade you didn’t dare challenge. Her eyes were frosty, but her face had softened when she addressed your father, who could only look on in disappointment. “I believe this is where we must part ways. Thank you for the tea.”

“This isn’t fair! Wait, don’t go! Let me explain my side of the story!” Your father’s hand was on your shoulder, applying the slightest pressure. Don’t make anymore trouble for yourself. Your voice died in your throat and came out as a broken whisper seconds later. “You’re a liar…”

Riddle refused to meet your stare.

“I do hope that the next time we meet you have improved upon yourself as a proper lady,” Riddle’s mother said, displeasure clouding her visage. “I will not allow poor influences to disturb my Riddle.”

Poor influences. Proper lady. Improve upon yourself. You hated every word that slipped past her rosy lips. How could she shove all of the blame onto you when Riddle was equally at fault? How could your father listen to her and heed her admonishments when it was his own daughter she raved about? How dare he sit back in passive discomfort while you were the one being dragged from your seat at the table, locked away in a birdcage with a rotting slab of wood for a table. A place you would stay until you could muster a different approach.

Until you were Riddle’s carbon copy.

And you couldn’t stand that. More than death, more than punishments, more than undergoing grueling lessons spent in a lonesome study. 

“I hate you!” It burst out like an unrestrained shattering of glass, dagger-like in its ability to slice. “I hate you so much! You’re the worst! I never want to see you again!”

Riddle finally caught your dark glower and he held it. Tears crept into his eyes, but he rubbed them away at once. With an offended huff, his mother tugged him through the door into the night. It shut gently, as if she had enough courtesy to treat inanimate objects with care rather than another human being. The rains had finally ceased, leaving the windows spattered with droplets, and you sank to the floor.

Your father bent down to your level, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to address him. “You mustn’t do this again.” He then rose to his full height, stared at you for a moment longer, and departed, feigning ignorance to your sobs as they echoed in the dimly lit corridor. 

You did not have a grand celebration for your thirteenth birthday. One had never been planned and after your outburst one would never come. Instead, you were trapped in solitary confinement, sentenced to a full day of reflection without meals. There was no playing pretend in this instance and your stuffed animals couldn’t be there to comfort you. You faced the wall in all of its bland glory and waited for the hours to tick by.

When you emerged from your punishment, a silver birdcage was passed into your hands. Through the ornate bars, a tiny canary shuffled along its perch, yellow feathers rustling. You eyed the creature with disdain.

“Canaries prefer peace and quiet,” your father explained, holding a finger against his lips to further cement the suggestion not-so-subtly veiled as an order. “You should follow in their example.”

For however long you had that dreadful bird, it never once sang. It could only tilt its head at you, beady eyes pondering the nature of your soul, as if it couldn’t fathom the similarities between bird and girl.

iii. the third petal is plucked from the wilting rose: “he loves me.” to what extent does he love you? “passionately, you see.”

“It’s…nice.” The lackluster adjective is all you can manage when you observe the small cabin laid out before you, positioned in the center of a clearing and surrounded by clusters of flourishing bluebells. Maple trees close in on the building from all sides, successfully locking it in a wooden prison. The A-frame cabin isn’t old, but it certainly isn’t new either. You can’t quite put your finger on why you’re so apprehensive about its triangular design or the dark colors it has been painted, a stark contrast to the earthy tones of the forest.

“It’s quaint, wouldn’t you agree?” Riddle stands at your side, dressed in casual attire and admiring the cottage with a satisfaction befitting a painter gazing at his finished project. A breeze tousles his hair, invisible fingers raking through a garden of red, and you find yourself contemplating why you even bothered to come. 

“It has character,” you conclude.

Your grip tightens on the handle of your duffel bag. Riddle insisted he carry it for your sake, but you had rolled your eyes and lifted it from the ground to prove your capabilities. He didn’t press the matter further, but you did catch a scoff and a hushed mumbling. You are not a delicate lady; that much should be obvious by now. If Riddle wanted to be a mature gentleman, he would have ended things responsibly.

“I took the liberty of checking the forecast the night before and this weekend’s weather will be perfect. I’ve also planned plenty of activities for us. We have much to do.”

“Besides swatting at mosquitos all day, I can’t wait to see what you’ve come up with.” You stalk past him, beelining for the door. “Let’s get this weekend started. The sooner the better.”

Two days. Tolerate him for two days and I’ll be free. 

Accepting your temporary fate is the least you can do after everything that has happened. Looking back on the turbulent memories, you realize you were nothing more than a blank pattern just waiting to be sewn into something worthy of a gardener’s critical gaze. Had Riddle’s mother never taken up that needle, you would have remained as that shy wallflower, a pattern not yet stitched.

I will endure it. Two days is nothing compared to all that I’ve dealt with. 

Riddle appears at your side and unlocks the door. The silver key finds residence in his pocket while he holds the door open for you, a princely gesture that would have certainly won your favor if you weren’t already familiar with the darker facets of his personality. You utter your thanks despite your contrasting thoughts and step inside.

The interior is another world entirely, one in which you have yet to immerse yourself. The rustic floorboards and shuttered windows are charming in a stuck-in-the-forest way and the furniture has been arranged to fit within the small space. A compact kitchenette consisting of a granite countertop with a sink and a tiny refrigerator have been stuffed in the corner, and a few paces before that a sofa and an armchair are placed around a space where a television should be. In its place, a low coffee table sits. Board games and magazines have been thrown haphazardly on its surface, as if someone was in a hurry to clean up and couldn’t set aside time to organize them. Various landscape portraits are hanging crooked on the walls, displaying cold sceneries devoid of humanity. 

You glance at the winding staircase that leads up to a tiny loft, where a single bed is pushed up against the wall, just below a circular window, and frown. It isn’t the sort of comfort you seek when you envision a bedroom in a cottage, but it’s the best this place has to offer. If it comes down to it, you could choose to sleep on the sofa.

Beyond the sitting room-kitchenette hybrid, a thin hallway stretches and breaks off into two individual rooms, both of which are hidden behind closed doors. You can only assume one of them is the bathroom. As for the other, you have no clue of its contents and, frankly, you can’t be bothered to care. 

“So what’s on the agenda for today?” You drop your duffel bag on the chair and pivot to face him. “Should we go for a hike? Start a bonfire and roast marshmallows? Explore the forest?”

“Not yet.” He sets his suitcase beside the chair and walks further into the room, pausing to inspect the kitchen. “It’s nearly lunch. We should prepare something to eat and then we can follow the itinerary I wrote up.”

“All right. What would you like?” You move towards the fridge and open it to inspect its innards. “I’ll cook.”

“You can cook?”

“Can you?”

“I...can follow a recipe, so long as it’s accurate and quantitative.”

“Seeing as there aren’t any recipes at our disposal, I’ll cook.” You’re already pulling ingredients from the cool depths of the fridge, ignoring Riddle’s curious stare as it pins you to your spot. A carton of eggs is the first thing in your hands and you search it for an expiration date. When one can’t be found, you open the carton to analyze the eggs. Painted in bright variations of pink and red, each egg rests in its respective space. “I’m actually really good at it. I can also bake, but I’m nowhere near as good as Trey.”

His silence sets the hairs on the back of your neck on high alert. Riddle almost always has something to say, so to exist in a room with him and experience the peace that comes with his unmoving tongue is quite the rarity. Perhaps he’s ruminating or he simply sees no need to comment on useless information. Most of your conversations consist of biting remarks, hate-filled arguments that send the both of you spiraling towards an inevitable crash. You only ever know how to communicate through verbal disagreements, and talking without any hostility is almost foreign to you. 

“If there are enough ingredients, I’ll make a dessert for you.”

“Is that so?” At the mention of sweets, Riddle moves past you and reaches up to open a cupboard. Porcelain plates with swirling designs meet his gaze. “I’m not sure you’ll be able to find fresh strawberries, though. There aren’t any in the fridge.”

“The recipe doesn’t call for strawberries.” 

“Then how do you expect to bake a proper strawberry tart without one of its key ingredients?”

“I never said I liked strawberry tarts. I don’t even know how to make one.”

He blinks at you and for a while you hold his unreadable stare. Eventually he exhales noisily and says, “It seems we don’t know each other as well as I once thought.”

“No, we don’t.”

Despite the lack of expiration dates on every package you come across, you take your time preparing an adequate meal, sorting through what ingredients look fresh and what don’t. Oddly enough, everything looks and smells as it should: deceptively appetizing, so much so that it’s almost unnatural. Yet as you toss a salad with vibrant greens and spread sweet marmalade on perfectly toasted bread, you can’t help the unease that slithers through you. Even the boring casserole the oven births is flawless and filled with flavor when you sample a tiny slice. 

Curiously, you empty random ingredients in a bowl, place it in the warm oven, and set the timer. It doesn’t even take a full minute, but when you peer inside the oven and pull a perfectly edible dish out, an internal alarm resounds. Blaring and bright, it’s the clearest sign you can receive. 

“Something’s not right...”

“What is it?” Riddle peers down at you from above, his hands on the railing as he overlooks the kitchenette like a sovereign. How he heard your soft grunt of displeasure and its accompanying whisper is beyond you, and how he managed to move so soundlessly up the cast iron staircase is also a mystery.

“Nothing.” You gaze at the casserole and the side dishes with a frown. “Just thinking.”

“May I ask what occupies your thoughts?”

“You’ll think I’m foolish.”

“Depending on the context of your answer, I might.” An amused half-smile sprouts on his lips. “Well?”

“It’s nothing,” you insist. “I’m just a little surprised we’re sharing a meal together. That’s all.”

“It’s not that surprising.” He lifts his hands from the bannister and disappears within the loft. The rest of his words float down to you, suffocated in the small space. “You should get used to it. This is to be our future, after all.”

You have to restrain yourself from correcting him. It wouldn’t be fair if you spoiled the afternoon on account of your loose tongue, but you can’t help ruminating on your future when it’s spoken with a bold degree of certainty—as if you and Riddle have been attached at the hip all this time and are unable to separate, even when graduation wields scissors destined to snip young couples as if they’re nothing more than a paper chain. An eternity spent in a tiny house with Riddle as your husband sounds like torture in the rawest form. Although you doubt he’d want to live in a space like this one, the thought that he’d be living under the same roof as you regardless of the location is enough to churn your stomach until your insides have become butter. Perhaps you wouldn’t be so opposed to a life with him if the both of you had met under different circumstances and you weren’t forced into the same mold he had been produced from. Maybe then you might have felt a shred of love for him. 

Instead, the weight of a monstrous burden claws at your back, reminding you that every scar, visible or not, is a result of him and his mother.

It’s too quiet when you set the small table with plates and utensils. Even though this isn’t your best work, the entire meal looks like something from a cookbook. You’re not sure why you chose to cook a casserole when there were so many other options floating within your head. Perhaps you’re fond of the idea of throwing ingredients in a dish and watching them come together to make one delicious thing—a metaphor that doesn’t apply to you and your fiancé no matter how much sugar you empty into the vat.

Riddle cuts into it with precision, knife and fork held at a precise angle. You watch his mouth as it closes around a bite-sized morsel. For a moment you hold your breath, awaiting his noise of disgust or an insult to your cooking. All you receive is a widening of the eyes, which can mean numerous things as you’ve come to learn. 

“You really can cook,” he declares after a few tense moments of silence. “It’s delicious. Excellent work.”

You release a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. “Thank you. I’m pleased you like it.” You pierce a chunk of casserole, but the fork does not reach your lips. “Are you…happy here?”

He sips from a clear glass of water before replying, “Why do you ask?”

“We’re not happy when we’re together. It’s obvious we hate each other.”

“Our relationship wouldn’t be devoid of happiness if you weren’t so hellbent on making things difficult.” Riddle releases an exasperated breath. “Let’s start anew. I would like to spend this weekend cultivating a healthier relationship. You might not agree with my idea, but I would appreciate it if you could at least humor me before we end this betrothal.”

“All right… And how do you suppose we go about ‘starting anew,’ hm?”

“Tell me about yourself.” Before you can respond to the blunt demand, he adds, “I’m well-acquainted with the brash, ill-mannered girl sitting before me, but I’m quite certain that that’s not the real you.”

Like a beached fish, you open and shut your mouth in an attempt to string a single sentence together.

“You’re right,” you manage to mutter as you run your fork through the casserole lump, effectively dividing it into smaller chunks. Similar to a decaying flower, the food is drained of color immediately. “That isn’t me.”

He nods, as if expecting this, and waits patiently for you to continue.

“I don’t care much for performances. In fact, I hate being the center of attention. I only did that because I wanted to show you and your mother every ugly side of me. In doing so, I was hoping you’d call off the engagement because I wasn’t enough of a ‘proper lady’ for you.” You chuckle as you recall every misbehavior, small and large. “I promise I’m not as temperamental as you’ve been led to believe.”

“I assumed as much. My mother was and still is furious whenever she catches wind of your misdemeanors. I’ve had to talk her out of canceling our engagement for years now.”

“You talked to her?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” He stares at you, baffled. “I couldn’t let her make such an important decision for me. It is I who chooses whether or not to call off the engagement. Unfortunately, she hardly listened to my opinion on the matter. But you’ve remained my fiancée up until now, so perhaps my words had some influence. Or your father and his reputation swayed her.”

“Maybe... To be honest, I didn’t think you’d do that. She’s not easy to talk to.”

Riddle sighs around the rim of his glass. “Those manufactured sides you spoke of—I find it difficult to believe you could harbor an ugly side.”

“And what about you? Who is the real Riddle Rosehearts, the one beyond dormitory obligations and rules? Surely you’re not as strict as you act.”

He finally indulges in another sip, awkwardly glancing at anywhere that isn’t your face. His half-empty plate becomes more interesting than the topic at hand and you sense that he can’t quite muster a response. So you sidestep the subject with caution and move onto something equally terrible and distracting. 

“When I learned of your accident, I’ll admit I was worried. You could have seriously hurt yourself. I…didn’t tell you at the time because I was stubborn and I didn’t want to upset you, but I was relieved to hear of your recovery.”

At the recollection of his Overblot, Riddle’s expression twists into something sour and regretful. You think you see a hint of shame in his overcast hues, but you dismiss it before it can fray your heartstrings.

“I didn’t know you felt that way.” His voice is uncharacteristically hushed, and you don’t miss the pink that settles on his cheeks like shimmering stardust.

You stand up abruptly, your chair screeching against the floorboards. “It’s not an issue anymore, though.” You cross the short distance to the kitchenette and scrape your untouched lunch into the trash. You’re unable to see the bottom of the bin; it’s a dark, winding rabbit hole that seems to spiral infinitely. Peering into it, you wait to hear the food hit the bottom. A sound fails to reach your waiting ears. “I’ll...get started on dessert.”

Unspoken questions fester in the air; you can tell from how thick the tension is. But sharing your feelings and thoughts with Riddle in a civil setting is too much for your frazzled mind. You aren’t used to seeing this private side of him, where his behaviors are composed of the sweetest pastries and tooth-rotting sugar mice—satisfactory things that serve as a deceptive shroud. It’s as if he’s a doll who has been melted down, factory reset, and repaired in every possible way to alter his personality. 

You find yourself longing for the Riddle you grew to despise. It’s easier to face his wrath than it is tiptoeing around his kindness.

“What are you making?” His voice brings you back to reality, where you find him at your side as he sets the dirty dishes in the sink. They hardly touch the spotless basin before they return to how they once were, food residue washed away with invisible soap. “I’d like to offer my help, if you’ll accept it.”

“Just don’t get in the way.” You hold up a box containing the mix needed to make lemon squares. “It’s not from scratch, but this should suffice and it saves us some time to do other things.”

Riddle studies the nutrition label with narrowed eyes. “Very well.”

Surprisingly, his assistance proves useful. You would have thought he’d pose more of a disturbance as you weave about the small kitchen, reaching to preheat the oven and grabbing a mixing bowl and a whisk. Riddle stays out of your way and instead chooses to read the directions aloud while you gather the ingredients, dutifully making note of every portion needed from where he sits on a stool at the granite countertop.

While cracking eggs into the bowl and occasionally sneaking glances at your fiancé, whose attention is glued to the box as if he’s attempting to burn the recipe into his retinas, you wonder what will happen after the separation. Riddle will likely follow in his mother’s footsteps as a magic doctor and you’ll be free to pursue your own career, no longer pinioned by impossible standards. You might even indulge in the luxury of reconnecting with old friends as you turn a new page in your story, a fresh chapter devoid of the looming threat of marriage. 

If a wedding does exist in your future, you hope you can stand at the altar with someone humble and charming—someone who won’t hold their authority over your head or snap at you whenever you displease them. A person who could care less for rules and uptight commitments. Someone whose mother won’t forcibly paint you as a caricature of her son.

“(Name).”

“Huh? What? What’s going on?”

“The crust is finished.”

You set the bowl down and glance at the oven, the timer flashing zeros and repeating the same irritating ringing. Over and over. It rings and rings and rings.

“When... When did I put it in?”

“Fifteen minutes ago.” Riddle inhales an annoyed breath. “I’ve been trying to get through to you, but you’ve been so intent on whisking this entire time.”

“Oh. Sorry.” Awkwardly, you slip your hand into an oven mitten and lift the square-shaped pan out, admiring the way the crust has been baked to a perfect golden-brown. There are no indentations from where your fingers pushed and spread the crust. “Don’t you find it weird?”

“Weird?” Riddle stares at the crust you’ve set in front of him. “It looks perfectly fine to me.”

I don’t like this.

You glance at the sugar tin and then at the bowl, trapped in an internal debate with no clear choice. A long, unbroken silence stretches to the point of snapping, and you swallow every query that rises in your throat like bile. Despite only having baked the crust, the kitchenette is filled with a sickeningly sweet smell. It claws its way up your nostrils until every inhalation is unbearably saccharine.

With an exhale, you tip the lemon filling over the crust and watch as it spreads evenly. Riddle looks on, enthralled with your careful movements. Sensing his prying gaze, you quickly shut the oven, set the timer, and catch his stare just as it evades yours.

“Do we have to stay here for the whole weekend?”

“Of course we do. This is the last activity we’ll ever experience while betrothed. It would be a shame if you failed to enjoy it.” Riddle smiles, his fingertip tapping a quiet rhythm against the granite. “If it’s any consolation, this will be over before you know it. Think of it as a…minor inconvenience.”

He continues to tap, a repetition so grating that it’s almost as horrid as the angry, banshee-like screech of nails on a chalkboard. The timer ticks the seconds away too fast. The branches outside scrape at the windowpane, gnarled, wooden fingers scrabbling for a way inside. Your heart has never beat so fast before as fight or flight simmers, a trigger on a signal gun just waiting to be pulled. And when you look past Riddle, at the walls and the furniture and the floor, you find that it’s begun to peel and rot—moldy, discolored things that remind you of abandoned ruins, bloodless corpses, and putrescent bouquets.

You slam your hands on the countertop. “Enough!”

Riddle’s hand stills. His brow furrows and you can’t quite tell if his expression is mired in irritation or disbelief.

“S-Sorry…for raising my voice. I just need to lie down for a moment. It’s too…stuffy in here.” You force a laugh through grit teeth. “Really stuffy.”

This isn’t right. Something’s wrong. Really wrong. Very wrong. 

You swallow the lump in your throat.

Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. Wrong.

The timer releases a cheerful ding and your head snaps towards it. Your fingers curl into tight fists as you fight for control of your nerves, your heart hammering so fast you’re certain it’ll burst from your chest in an explosion of gore and bone fragments.

Riddle slides the oven mitten onto his hand—his eyes never leave you—as he takes the dish out and places it on the counter. You blink and a powdery dusting of icing sugar has been sprinkled over it.

“When it cools, we’ll divide it into pieces.”

“I’m not waiting that long.” You swipe a knife from a drawer and waste no time cutting a small sliver for yourself. It’s gooey and soft, a yellow lump, and you eat it despite how fiercely it burns your tongue. Your face scrunches with disgust. “It’s so tart!”

“That can’t be.” Plucking the knife from your hand, Riddle takes a serving for himself. Before putting it in his mouth, he blows on it delicately. Unlike your expression, his brightens with delight. “It’s very tasty, albeit overly sweet. Perhaps you were too generous with the amount of sugar you added.”

Once he spies the raw terror in your features, he flinches away. Unable to utter another word, you can only watch as an invisible blade slices through the dessert, cutting it into perfect squares.

You wish you’d paid more attention in your magical studies because, even if this is some obscure form of magic, there’s no explaining how sugar managed to get into the filling when you never added any to begin with.

iv. the fourth petal is plucked from the tainted rose, its petals drenched in slick crimson: “he loves me not.” to what extent does he not love you? “can such madness classify as love? if that is the case, then he does not possess love.”

Among the unique variations of toys your father had personally handcrafted, there was one he refused to showcase to the public. According to him it was a blight on his honor as a toymaker—something so sinfully regrettable that he forbade you from even mentioning it once you took notice of the panicked expressions he’d often wear when emerging from his workshop. You were never one to question your father. Before you met Riddle and his mother, he was kind and honest—a brilliant soul with a genuine passion for creation. He would permit you access to his workshop whenever he was in need of company and you’d sit and watch as his fingers pinched a paintbrush at an exact angle while he bestowed faces to dolls the size of your dainty palms.

Shortly after Riddle came into the picture, he stopped letting you into the workshop. There would be days in which he’d hole himself in there like a mole seeking cool soil, and you wouldn’t see him until he decided to come out for dinner. You learned how to cook and bake while he was absent—little things that were easy enough for a child to comprehend. Like assembling sandwiches or heating up leftovers. Truthfully, you considered yourself an outstanding chef despite the fact that you weren’t following any recipes. When you were older and could understand the components of the kitchen, you finally perused the family cookbook in search of easy recipes to hone your mastery.

It took plenty of trial and error, but you soon memorized how to cook your favorite dishes, a feat you’ve prided yourself on for years now.

Your father often thanked you for remaining as his daughter. You found it strange that he assumed you might leave him, but considering the fact that your mother disappeared without a trace one day his fears weren’t so misplaced. He wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he allowed his precious child to vanish in the same fashion her mother did. Perhaps that was why he was so eager to tie you to Riddle. Every obligation that came with a marriage would successfully snuff any thoughts of running away or eloping with a love he did not approve of. Not that you harbored any to begin with, but he was always afraid.

Afraid of abandonment. Afraid of letting you go. Afraid of barriers and divisions—of turmoil between father and daughter. Afraid of his creations.

Afraid of the very mind that birthed such art.

He never spoke of this project, and if you ever had the confidence to question him he would brush the topic aside with a dismissive wave of his hand. You had tried to sneak into his workshop with Riddle, who was just as curious as you were. What secrets could a toymaker possibly wish to keep hidden under lock and key? Surely it couldn’t have been anything dangerous. Though your attempts at playing spy were thwarted and you were ushered away with a stern reminder—never step foot in Papa’s workshop—your failure did not deter you. Riddle was quick to surrender. The idea of a scolding was not as appealing as the truth.

But you were not one to falter, even when the rules were as unforgiving as a guillotine’s sharpened blade.

He called it Wonderland. You learned this when you swiped the key from his study, crept through the hall at an ungodly hour of night, and slipped inside like a discreet shadow. The word had been scrawled into the painted wood with something sharp, every jagged letter reminiscent of distress. Sitting atop the base that had been carved with hatred so tangible you didn’t dare touch it was an A-frame dollhouse. When you shone your light onto it and spied the inky black paint that glistened in the illumination, fear sparked within you. 

Peering in through the circular window built into the arch, at the dull, monochromatic loft, you studied the plain wallpaper and the colorless bed. Yet there were no dolls in sight. Fueled with a sense of curiosity, you undid the latch and opened the dollhouse to view each half. A beautiful melody trickled out, hypnotic and lilting. It fluttered within your head like a swarm of butterflies, snuffing every other coherent thought that occurred. Inside was a fully stocked kitchenette and a living room, both equipped with perfect furniture and decor. Despite that, it was still so plain. You weren’t sure what it was that unnerved you, but perhaps it was the lack of character that knotted your stomach.

Or maybe it was the two rooms in the short hall, twin mysteries that had not yet been solved. The first door hid a standard bathroom with every amenity necessary. The other concealed an exact replica of your bedroom and it was the only area in the dollhouse that had personality and color. Bright, vivid color. You were almost relieved to see it, but that emotion soured the minute you saw the dolls.

They were undoubtedly crafted by your father’s hand, for every detail was exact. It must have taken him many painstaking hours to create them in accordance with the real versions. Lying on the floor, her face pressed into the carpet, was a girl in a blue dress and standing above her was a boy in red.

You reached inside and pulled them out for further analysis, nearly dropping them in shock. The dolls were perfect replicas of you and Riddle.

Wonderland was a strange title for such a dreary piece. There was no wonder to be found in a scene displaying cold, cruel captivity.

The melody quieted just as the workshop brightened with light and your father stood in the doorway, disapproval etched onto his face. As you were escorted from the room, you couldn’t decide if you’d unearthed a visceral secret or a foreboding tomb.

v. the fifth petal is plucked from the red rose: “she loves me.” to what extent does she love you? “not at all, but my heart is soaring with adoration and she is my rose who has been rid of improper petals, destined to sprout anew amongst the bluebells.”

There are no sounds in or out of the house that can possibly lull you back to sleep after you’ve awoken from your dreams. No chittering crickets, no hooting owls, no shush of the wind, and no ticking clocks. Even your labored breathing sounds faraway in the dull, monochrome loft.

I want to go home.

Rubbing at your eyes, you pat the empty space beside you on the bed. Confusion creeps through you when you sit up to view the vermilion spotlight that is cast by the circular window. 

“Riddle?” Your fingers curl around the bannister as you descend the stairs. You squint into the darkness. “Are you awake?”

Your only response is the hushed hum of a lullaby, a haunting sound that seeps into the room from down the thin hall. Steeling your nerves, you grip fistfuls of your skirt and tiptoe down the hall, flinching at every groaning floorboard. Exhaling a shaky breath, you stand before the door and listen to the muffled melody as it fights to pass through the wooden barrier.

With bated breath, you grasp the handle and slowly open the door. 

The melody cuts off abruptly and a yellowed light spills into the room. You’re standing in the center of your childhood bedroom. From the scratches on the bedpost to the stickers plastered on the headboard, to the colorful scribbles on the wallpaper to the toys aligned on the shelf, it is a carbon copy of your room. Horror roots you to your spot as you survey the room, searching for a flaw within the design in hopes of rousing yourself from this inconceivable nightmare.

And then you spy your reflection in the vanity mirror. The girl who returns your bewildered stare is dressed in a blue suspender skirt, a frilly, white blouse, and stockings. Fastened in her hair is a black headband, an accessory you’ve never once possessed. You approach the mirror cautiously, raising your hand to the glass. It’s not a hallucination. This is you. 

You don’t remember changing into this outfit. 

When you meander out of the room, filled to the brim with an apprehension so poisonous it almost shuts your nervous system down completely, you notice the room has changed. The paintings are no longer hanging crooked, the games and magazines have been straightened and stacked, and the furniture is simple and boring. As if a veil has been lifted, you finally see the cabin as what it is: your father’s abnormal pet project. 

You stumble down the impossibly long hall, nearly throwing yourself at the door once you’re within close proximity. It’s grown taller, a warped version of itself, and you struggle to twist the knob. As soon as you throw it open and step outside, you’re caught in the piercing sunlight. A garden of bluebells surrounds you and beyond that are artificial trees. When you turn your gaze skyward, you do not see an azure sky or cumulus clouds. A ceiling meets your dilated eyes. And then the bookshelves and an opulent bed. You whirl to face Riddle, who sits undisturbed at his desk. His pen waltzes across paper as he writes, humming a soft, soothing tune. He’s much larger than you, a giant above the tiny world you’re confined to, but he’s there. And he’s already noticed you.

“Illusory spells are not so complicated to master when the rose you’re pursuing is more fickle than textbook magic.” Riddle’s stony gaze petrifies you, but you can recognize the victorious glaze in those deceptive greys. “Neither are transformative spells. To change one’s size from large to small and vice-versa... That is also an easy feat for a mage of my level of expertise.” 

“What the hell are you doing?”

“Isn’t it obvious? I’ve decided it would be much easier if we started living together now. Of course I still have classes to attend and dormitory obligations to fulfill, but I vow to spend every moment of my spare time with you.”

“Why?” You shake your head in disbelief. “You... No. No way. This is a joke, isn’t it? Some stupid rule about wearing blue or red or... Something with the flamingos, right? Did I break a rule? Is this a punishment? I have to live a shrunken life inside this weird dollhouse?”  

Riddle chuckles at your panicked babbling. “Not quite. In actuality, this is far from a jest.”

“Okay... Then what about the trip? We’re in your room when we should be in the forest. What’s going on with that?” 

“There was never a trip to begin with. We never even left my room.” He tilts his head at you, a calm smile playing at his lips. “As far as my mother knows, she believes you’ve run away from your responsibilities. And your father is pleased to know you’ll remain as my fiancée. Now no one can hinder our progress.”

You stand there, slack-jawed, and your eyes brim with hopeless tears. “Two days... All I had to do was survive two days and I’d never have to see you again. How dare you take my freedom? How dare you lie to me? How dare you act like this when you knew I was suffering the entire time?! You’re the worst! I hate you!”

“Surely you don’t mean that immature prattle.” He sighs at your vicious scowl. “Besides, throwing a tantrum won’t accomplish anything. It won’t return you to your original size. It won’t erase the fact that we’re meant to be.” 

“I can’t believe this... You’re just as crazy as your mother.” 

“I am not!” He slams a fist upon the table and the plastic forest shudders from the impact. You narrowly dodge a tree as it topples over. Riddle inhales a deep breath. “I am nothing like her. You are in no position to make such faulty accusations.”

You remain there on your hands and knees, staring daggers into the faux grass. “You hate me, too, don’t you? Why go to these insane lengths if you can’t stand me?”

“I don’t hate you. I’ve never hated you.” Riddle runs a hand through his hair, deflating like a balloon. “But you do. Hate me, I mean. I...don’t know what rules I should implement so that you’ll finally reciprocate. That’s why it’s important that I keep you here as a doll. When you’re unable to do much in such a small, fragile form, you’ll be compelled to live in harmony with me, as I’m the only one you’ll see. The only one who can change you back. It’ll happen eventually. We just need a little time.”

His heavy admission crushes you and the first few tears dampen the lawn. When you speak your voice comes out strangled and broken. “Why Wonderland? Why not use a prettier dollhouse if you’re going to keep me as a pocket treasure?” He evades your questioning stare, worrying his lip between his teeth. You feel your soul drain from your body, a ghostly apparition that was once composed of flowery dreams and glittery hopes. “What’s so special about my father’s work?”

“Wonderland is special. In an abstract way, that is.”

“What’s abstract?”

“Time.” He holds his magic pen out and you hesitate before crawling onto the crimson magestone. He lifts you out of Wonderland’s boundary and holds you up to meet his dark stare. “You’ve broken my heart more than once, as loath as I am to admit that.”

“You ruined my life. I don’t care if your heart is in shambles!” you spit. If you weren’t so small, you’d slap more than enough sense into him. But you aren’t, and all you can really do is put on your scariest face in an effort to sway his infatuation. “This is kidnapping. You realize that, right? Can an honors student commit such a heinous crime?”

“I’ve already come to terms with what I must do to ensure you’ll never leave.”

“And what’s that? What else could you possibly do, Riddle?”

He shakes you off of his pen and you fall the short distance onto his gloved palm, heart pounding as loudly as a war drum. “We’ll just have to find out, won’t we?” Smiling, he pats your head with a single finger. You stiffen under his touch. Just a little more pressure and he could crush your skull like an egg. Not that he’d ever entertain such violence. But despite that you can’t quite tell what he’d do to you if you refused his love, so you reach for his finger with trembling arms. His features soften when you embrace it. “I truly love you, (Name). This is for your own good, you see?”

Riddle Rosehearts is not as timid as you once assessed. His prowess as a mage outshines what little magic you could hope to cast, and when you compare yourself to him you are but the inky space that houses the glorious star.  

“After all, our perfect relationship can’t blossom in a day. We have much work to do and many rules to follow!”

And a star who has broken away from his own celestial shackles is a star on the verge of a grand, gruesome implosion.

#yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #yandere riddle rosehearts #yandere riddle rosehearts x reader #yandere riddle x reader #yandere riddle #yandere twst #yandere twst x reader

[alicenthightowercore]

𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐈 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐑𝐡𝐚𝐞𝐧𝐲𝐫𝐚 𝐓𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐞𝐧’𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐛𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝 (𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐁𝐚𝐞𝐥𝐚 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐑𝐡𝐚𝐞𝐧𝐚)

(Everything about the younger children I headcannon!)

Once again feel free to disagree but be respectful my loves!

Jace

Definitely on the schools soccer team, I see Jace as a very popular figure at school but he is very gentleman like, he will carry girls books and bags to class, help teachers move chairs and tables around class and chose the kids that usually don’t get chosen into teams for PE, he has a hair care routine for his curls for sure, is a comic fan I can see it and def is a crackhead for video games, does twitch streams probably, and loves energy drinks especially before his workouts (yeah I kinda headcannon him as a gym rat!) he owns a dog named vermax btw who is a German shepherd (proudest dog dad) academically he is great in English and history, heavy on the history since his family has a huge part in it I mean they were royalty and rode dragons (yes dragons existed and went extinct like dinosaurs and shit let me believe😫) but math is a bit of a hard subject he passes with a c maybe a B if lucky.

Luke

He has not a single bad or intimidating bone in his body, an angel if you will. He is the sweetest human being who is very shy and quiet until you get him to come out of his shell then he is a comedian full on, definitely has beautiful curls, does great in all his classes just to make Rhae proud (momma’s boy) wears a single sliver band ring that Rhaenyra gifted him and he has never taken it off, has a dog named Arrax who’s a beagle, he definitely wears flannels and hoodies and owns a million pairs of converse, he smokes/vapes but not constantly because he is paranoid that his lungs would give out before the age of 30. Definitely does twitch streams and has a PC set up, is in a gaming/coding club at school for sure, probs an anime fan (I don’t know why he just gives off cute dweeb vibes!)

Baela

A queen through and through! I see her being a human/equal/animal rights activist and a feminist for sure, idk she just seems like a supportive human who people would instantly love! She def would wear pretty vibrant colors, her hair would be lovely as well (wasn’t a big fan of the wigs in the show she and phoebe basically all of house Velaryon could have had better!) I see Baela with short silver coils even a gorgeous Afro and she might even enjoy dying her hair (maybe not) but she definitely would keep her hair healthy and beautiful! I have a feeling that she would be in some sort of sport but I cannot pinpoint which one! Owns a beautiful horse (a Friesian horse) named Moondancr, she would enjoy hobbies like horse back riding, going on hikes, surfing probably, rock climbing, she also loves doing crazy daredevil stuff (gives poor Laena a heart attack but Daemon is proud) she will stand her ground and speak her mind!

Rhaena

She is so graceful, Rhaena is so kind and sweet therefore everyone was always so comfortable in her presence, she is a academic genius looking into becoming a dance/ballet instructor due to being in the dancing field her whole life, it was something she enjoyed and felt at peace doing. Has a beautiful white Birman cat named Morning, her collar and supplies are all pink and bright, Rhaena herself wears light pinks and whites even mix it up with other pastel colors, cute knitted sweaters as well. Beautiful silver hair that she would have in gorgeous braids or let her natural coils (like Laena’s) be but either way she would look gorgeous! She is close with Baela and Luke more than anybody else!

Joffrey

Totally see him being the Lily Pritchett of his family, he would constantly gag everybody (especially Aegon!) An iPad kid through and through with his YouTube and games on full volume but he would keep his hands and iPad clean for sure, does Fortnite dances idk I just vision it, gets away with everything because in Rhae’s eyes he can do no wrong, he has a dog named tyraxes (he believes in the dog distribution system as much as the cat one and randomly walked inside the house with a small flea infested pup that Rhaenyra paid a fat vet bill for) is the most honest one in the family he don’t give a fuck about anyone’s feelings you asked for the truth he’ll give it to you upfront. He has a personal vendetta against Aegon which started when he forgot him in a car when he was a baby (Aegon is paranoid and believes that is the sole reason Joffrey is against him and he may be right) He’s smart in all categories I mean good grades and is great at social situations

Aegon and Viserys

Both are attached to the hip since they are close in age, in the show I kinda don’t see much of them so to me I cannot read what they could be like. Cute kids though.

Visenya

Now since she doesn’t quite exist I headcannon that Rhaenyra gets to have her, everything about her is headcannon since yk she wasn’t alive in the show. I see her being a clone of Rhaenyra, a spoiled princess gets everything she wants (as she should) is in the best ballet school with the best instructors, her wardrobe is definitely professional made princess gowns, like she names a princess and Rhaenyra is on the phone getting it made, she has thick silver hair which she has her mommy braid just like hers, she owns millions of stuffed animals it is outrageous. Def owns a white Pomeranian pup named silverwing or Meraxes.

Okay this was fun to do! I love this whole Modern Au and I do hope you all enjoyed this read and comments, likes, and reblogs are appreciated but not required just as long as you enjoy the read💗

#jacaerys velaryon #lucerys velaryon #joffrey velaryon #baela targaryen #rhaena targaryen #aegon iii targaryen #viserys ii targaryen #visenya targaryen #modern house of the dragon #modern au #house of the dragon #hotd

[mrleomonade]

Prompt; Nico can shadow travel, and Will discovers he can light travel through a moment of panic and it takes so much out of him and leaves him very messed up, Nico cares for him and comforts him after

Triggers; vomit, brief violence, mentions of blood, panicking

Word count: 2.7k

Breakfast had been quiet. Most of the campers were gone due to the academic year starting up again, and the ones that stayed were still sleeping in. Will knew that wouldn’t last long though, Chiron would get the head counselors of each cabin to go bang in the doors, waking any remaining sleeping campers. But Will was one of the last children of Apollo at camp and would stay that way until the school year ends, unless they got any new campers. But until then, he basked in the rare quietness of the dining pavilion.

Nico was up early for once, able to enjoy his meal at his boyfriend's table thanks to the extra space now available. Austin had left a few days prior, the majority of the other siblings had left over a week ago, and the newest, youngest member of the Apollo cabin (who Will was growing extremely fond and protective of), Simon, had left that morning to start 3rd grade. So currently, it was just Will and Kayla. Only one of which was partaking in breakfast, much to Will’s displeasure, but that could be a sibling scolding moment for another time.

Everything was working out for once. There were no quests, camp was safe, the infirmary was slow. Will finally felt like he had a chance to catch his breath.

Will’s hand found its way to Nico's and ran a thumb across the back of his hand absentmindedly.

It truly was a perfect morning. Nice and warm, the sun was out but there was still an occasional cloud.

“How’s your breakfast?” Will asked, just wanting to spark a conversation.

Nico glanced up, “It’s camp breakfast for sure.” He spoke with a shrug, “I think my oatmeal is fermented.” Will knew it was supposed to be a joke but unusually the dark color of Nico’s oatmeal made the statement quite possible.

“Maybe you should bring that up to Mr. D, he might be able to-” Will was cut off by a large thump. Much like someone, or something was taking a step and tripping. Will glanced around, no one else seemed to notice, or if they did, they weren’t alarmed. Even Mr. D and Chiron were still chatting away at the head table.

Will cleared his throat, “Anyways, I think Mr. D could-” another thump, thump. A fork fell off one of the tables making a soft clanging sound as it hit the floor.

This time the head table fell quiet. Chiron looked up, brows knitted together.

A daughter of Hephaestus was sprinting towards the pavilion, Nico made some quip about “someone being excited for the most important meal of the day”, but Will didn’t laugh, because as the girl got closer, the fear etching her face became more evident and clear.

Will stood, half expecting to be told about some rock slide or something near the coast and a large list of causalities or injuries that would take over his day, but instead he heard her scream,

“HYDRA! HYDRA IN THE CAMP, BY THE WOODS!”

“A Hydra? Inside the barrier?” Will heard Chiron say. Looking around, he saw all the campers that had gotten up early for breakfast rushing to get equipment and armor.

He looked up at Nico, “Go time?” Nico asked,

“I knew a quiet peaceful breakfast was too good to be true.” Will sighed.

Nico had grabbed his sword and Will grabbed a bow and quiver, sure archery wasn’t his strong suit, but he much perfected it to close range combat.

Even the long range combat wasn’t his first choice, but by the time the duo and a few other campers arrived at the edge of the forest, Will saw Kayla already acting as a field medic. She was quickly tending to cuts and burns, probably because whoever was trying to deal with this Hydra clearly didn’t know which head to cut off and now there were 12, all thrashing about, lighting trees on fire and trampling anything in its path.

Will felt a sense of proudness bloom in his chest as he watched Kayla work, but he couldn’t let the feeling distract him.

Will and Nico made eye contact, and knew exactly what to do.

Nico made a B-line for the Hydra’s tail while Will hung back and loaded his first arrow. He made eye contact with the Hydra, assuming his bow directly at its main head, before shifting at the last second and shooting the arrow above the Hydra rather than at it. The Hydra seemed to slow for a moment, confused as to why Will didn’t try to kill it right then, but the arrow soared above the Hydra’s head, completely missing, which is good because that’s exactly what Will was aiming for.

The arrow, which just so happens to be a trick arrow, exploded with a bright display of colors, much like a firework.

The monster stumbled back in confusion, and Nico took this as his opportunity to jump onto its back with his running start, following its spine to help decipher which head was the middle head.

The Hydra thrashed, feeling the weight of a demigod on its back, and Will shot another arrow. This time, it was a regular arrow that lodged itself in the cheekbone of one of the outer heads. He quickly knocked another arrow and shot it again, now in the knee.

Nico was now holding onto the back of the neck attached to the central head, the monster stumbled back a few yards into a clearing, trying to get Nico to fall, but in response, he took his sword and severed the head at the base of the neck. As it fell to the ground, Nico landed on both feet and his eyes caught the movement of a figure trying to hide behind a tree.

“Who’s there?” He called keeping his sword drawn, as the figure, now identified as a young camper, stumbled out, toppling over.

Across the small clearing, which was now covered in golden monster dust and blood, Will saw no sign of any more monsters, except for one… kind of.

Nico has his back turned, away from where Will was currently positioned. He was crouching, helping a younger camper stand. Will recognized them as a son of Hermes, around the age of 11. His name was James. He was new to camp this summer but didn't have any family to go home to, so much like Nico and Will, he was a year-rounder. He must've been caught in the crossfires of the fight.

He didn't look injured, just shaken up, and Nico was in the same boat apart from a small cut across his left arm he must’ve got while climbing the Hydra.

Behind them, the final disembodied central Hydra head was still in the process of disintegrating, but since it hadn’t, it still had the ability to light fires.

Will could see the smoke coming from the Hydra’s gill like structure along its jaw and cheek as it prepared to torch his boyfriend and the young camper.

His feet felt heavy, as if they were rooted into the ground. His heart sank. He didn't know what he could do.

He could yell, but they were just a little too far for that to seem feasible. He could use his supersonic whistle to disorient the Hydra, but without giving Nico or James a heads up, he could permanently damage their hearing as well. He could also use the bow to hopefully distract the Hydra so Nico could get out of there while it finished disintegrating, which would've been Will’s plan A, if he had any more arrows.

So it left only one option, try to get to them first.

He dropped the bow and let the quiver fall off his shoulder. He broke out into a sprint,

“Will! What are you-”

It was Kayla, “I have to try!” He said, hoping she would get the hint.

Will’s feet hit the ground hard, he had never put so much effort into getting somewhere this fast.

The smoke from the Hydra darkened, it opened its horrendous jaw, wide, tilting itself back just a bit to really center Nico and James in its line of fire.

Will was so close, he could feel his heart racing and a pit of anxiety growing and growing in his stomach. His ears were ringing with adrenaline.

Nico looked up, giving Will a small smile,

“Nico, look out!” Will cried.

Nico turned around, almost face to face with the Hydra head. He seemed frozen, barely moving except for how he grabbed James by the shoulders and pushed his back against Nico’s own chest, turning and bracing for the worst.

He was just barely out of arms reach when Will saw the first spark come from the Hydra’s mouth. He could almost feel the cotton of Nico’s shirt brushing his fingertips when he lunged forward wrapping his arms around both Nico and the young camper, James.

In slow motion, Will could feel himself connect with the two others, and see flames start to ignite to his right. He felt a tug in the pit of his stomach, a tug similar to what he feels when using his powers to glow, just in a new location and with much more intensity than normal.

In his desperation, Will leaned into the feeling, and was quickly enveloped in a blinding white light. It was warm, almost unpleasantly so, and he felt as though every molecule in his body was being displaced then put back together again. His limbs felt like he just got finished with a 24 hour non-stop work out, or at least what he thought were his limbs, because right now, he didn’t have much perception of anything. It was disorienting, nauseating, and utterly exhausting.

The blinding light was gone in a flash. Will couldn’t tell if it took hours or was over in the blink of an eye. He expected to hit the grass next to the Hydra head and then feel the blistering heat pass above them, but it never happened, and instead of grass, they skidded and rolled across rough and dry dirt. The two fell out of Will’s arms and Will stopped rolling and settled on his right side.

“Will?” A voice called, and he was pushed to lay flat on his back.

Will’s mouth was insanely dry, and his stomach flipped. Stars danced across his vision, even with his eyes shut as tightly as they were.

“Will, oh my gods, did you just- oh my gods, Will.” The voice next to him panicked.

He felt his chest heaving, every breath he took was painful, each wheeze dragged through his lungs like sandpaper.

“Oh my gods! Go! Run! Oh my gods- Kayla! Go get Kayla!” The voice yelled, hopefully to someone else because Will was in no shape to go and get someone right now. He wasn’t sure who was talking to him right now, but the fear that laced the voice above him made his stomach churn. He tried with all his might to sit up, or open his eyes, and he was able to get one cracked but all he saw was a blurry mess of colors, and his eyelids felt as if they had thousands of tons of bricks weighing them down, so they closed almost as soon as they opened.

He felt cold hands envelop his cheeks, “Stay still, it’s ok now. We’re safe. I got you, I got you,” Will tried to move his arms, to put his hands on the ones on his face, but his limbs felt heavier than lead.

“You saved us. Gods, Will, you never cease to amaze me.” The voice sounded so genuine, Will wished he could place who it belonged to, so he could thank them later.

“Just keep breathing, Sunshine. Oh my gods I can’t believe you did that. You’re so stupid.”

The thumb on his cheek left rubbed back and forth in a comforting gesture, though in Will’s mind it was acting mainly as a distraction from the sheer amount of pain his body was in.

He needed someone to do something, he truly felt like he was about to die.

“Help-” Will managed to croak out, using way more strength than he anticipated.

The figure above him made a pained sound, “I know, I know, trust me, I know.”

Will forced himself to open his eyes again, squinting in the bright light of the sun as the figure above him slowly came into focus,

“Nico,” He said,

“Hi,” Nico’s face became more detailed, his eyes looked red and puffy, and tear tracks lined his cheeks.

“Nico,” Will said again, this time more gently.

“No, don’t make this about me right now. Gods, Will, you’ve never scared me like that before.” Nico hiccupped.

Will studied Nico’s face for a second, he could hear the sound of rapidly approaching feet, his stomach churned and he felt a rising sensation in his throat.

“Throw up,” Will muttered, Nico quickly got the message and helped Will sit.

Will was hunched over, palms pressed into the dirt, heaving up every little thing that was in his stomach as Nico rubbed his back.

“Nico,” Will started, for the third time after he finished throwing up, feeling a little more life return to his body, “How do you do that so often.” He managed to say,

Nico let out a wet laugh and helped Will lay back down, “How did you manage to shadow travel- or, I guess light travel, for the first time, and manage to take two people with you? All the way across camp?” Nico questioned, brushing Will’s curly golden locks out of his face. They were sticking to his forehead, he didn’t realize until now but he was absolutely drenched in sweat.

Another person dropped to their knees next to him,

“Will, are you ok?” She asked, frantically, hands hovering over him like she was afraid touching him would make it worse.

“Kayla,” he smiled, breathing out,

“He- he light traveled, three people, including himself, all the way across camp. That was his first time as far as I know, it technically wasn’t far, but the load of taking three people? It really really didn’t look good.” Nico filled in, voice shaking slightly.

“That’s not really in any textbooks or the infirmary training,” Kayla took a deep breath, “If anyone knows shadow travel, or light travel, or whatever, it’s you.” There was a beat of silence, “What does he need?”

Nico thought for a moment, “Nectar, to help repair any internal damages and help him get his strength back up. Cold rags, one for his forehead and one for the back of his neck, he probably has a pretty high fever right now. Also snacks, his blood sugar is definitely way too low after that.”

And with that, Kayla got to work.

“You really scared me.” Nico said, “Did you know you could do that?”

Will was now safely in a cot in the infirmary, much to his incoherent protest.

“Did I know I could scare you or light travel?" Will joked lightly,

"You know what I mean. Did you know you had that power? Were you afraid to tell me? I thought we were telling each other everything now."

"I mean, no. I didn't know I had that power. I don’t even know how to replicate it. Maybe it was a one time thing, like because of the situation. But, I thought you shadow travel all the time, was it really that bad?” Will asked,

“No no, it’s not the traveling part that scared me. I’m talking about afterwards.” Nico climbed into the cot with Will, their faces only centimeters apart.

“When we landed, seeing you tumble so limply, and then not respond. And when I touched you, you felt so…” Nico paused and took a deep breath, “I could feel your life force slipping away. And there was nothing I could do.”

“I’m ok now though, Neeks. I’m ok, you’re ok, James is ok. I’m still here, you can’t get rid of me that easily.” Will finished, and Nico snuggled closer into his chest.

#hoo #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo series #pjo headcanon #nico di angelo #percy jackson #percy jackson fanfiction #will solace whump #will solace angst #will solace #nico pjo #Nico di Angelo angst #tsats #pjo hoo toa #toa #leo valdez #annabeth chase #jason grace #percabeth #fanfiction #whump #whump prompt #whump blog #angst #kayla knowles #austin lake #cabin 7 #solangelo #rickriordan #piper mclean

[nogenderbee]

♡˗ˏ✎*ೃ˚ ℂ𝕠𝕝𝕝𝕖𝕚 𝕤𝕖𝕝𝕗 ₊˚ˑ༄

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ anon request: hello! platonic jing yuan, blade, dan heng and welt with a teen!reader who is like collei from genshin?

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ Hey hey! Absolutely! I included Collei's past as well so sorry if you meant only personality but... it also appears here so I hope it'll be fine!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ platonic

✧ Forest Ramger? Are forests this dangerous in your world?

✧ Dan Heng likes how seriously you're treating your trainings and academics

✧ though he does have good perception so he quickly notices you're not like most children your age and that's when his worries start...

"So that's what you're studying... (Shouldn't they master it in elementary school tho?)"

✧ basically he's just keeping close eye on you for a most of the time

✧ once he notices the way you flinched when March tried getting a bit closer for a photo, he realizes you may not like touching, if you panic while being close, he'll believe that even more

✧ he's not gonna confront you about it or any of his other observations tho, he's just gonna quietly help you and make sure he's doing it right by ocassionally giving you small glances

✧ if you decide to share your past with him willingly or some situation will make you tell him about it, he'll get so much more protective of you after hearing all of that

✧ it's like he's always on guard when you're hanging around with him since then

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

@miya-akane @toyaswif3y - come get your quiet but scary trabilazer!

✧ Welt would often use you as perfect example when he's scolding others, thinking you're rather motivated and already in good position despite your age

✧ he definitely has troubles catching with your energy sometimes but he certainly enjoys hearing stories about you being trainee forest ranger, though he didn't knew what it means at first

✧ if you're from where forests really are this much of a danger, he'd remind you once in a while to be cautious while exploring

✧ he doesn't mind you not liking being touched, in fact he absolutely respects it and will always stop someone from coming too close with his hand or his stick

"Don't come any closer please. Even if they're not adult, it'd be nice if you could respcet their personal space, just like they are respecting yours."

✧ when he notices something's wrong, he won't force you but he will remind you once or when situation is right that you can always come to him to talk and he'll do his best to help you

✧ if you use his offer and decide to tell him about your past, he's surprised but also very glad you're alright now

✧ he knows it's over now so he'll just remind you it's all over now and that you're safe

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

@vodka-glrl - come get your father of the express!

✧ you could say that Jing Yuan, as a general has pretty good intuition. That's how he immidietly knew you're not just an ordinary kid

✧ your enthusiasm really makes him have a soft spot for you

✧ if you're Trainee Forest Ranger on Xianzhou, he'll alwaus appreciate your help and will make sure to drop a nice sweet in your hands any time you drop by to do some work

✧ if you're on the other planet tho... he's curious about hwat kind of dangers your forests have

"Tell me, how was your training today? I hope you're not bruised anywhere and brought some good memories instead."

✧ either way, he probably plays favorites so from now on, you're his second kid so be ready to see Yanqing often as well

✧ if you don't like logic games, he'll be more than happy if you just come watch or chat along tea

✧ due to your often chats, there's a high chance of him knowing your past, but still only if you decide to tell him on your own!

✧ it's enough if you tell him description of that "doctor" from your past and he'll guarantee you he won't even step into Xianzhou Luofu on his watch.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

@miya-akane - come get your soft general~

✧ Blade honestly only saw your energy as a bother at first, he's here to kill monsters, not take care of a teenager

✧ but with time, he notices that you as Forest Ranger can actually protect yourself and others pretty well so he starts to tolerate you a bit more

✧ once your relationship progresses and he discovers about how much you care about your personal space, he'll make sure no one even tries getting too close

✧ once someone comes close, he'll glare daggers through them, immidietly making them back away

✧ he has a soft spot for you but will never admit it! Though Kafka and few others can see right through his act either way

"I don't have a 'soft spot for them'. I'm simply tolerating them because they're not as annoying as most kids and they're staying here for longer either way, so might as well get used."

✧ but he still won't care about your past, so you have more than 100% sure that you can tell him all in your own peace or not tell him at all and he will never know!

✧ but if he does... he's definitely teaching you a bit of fighting skills, just to be sure you'll actually handle yourself if you meet this "doctor" again

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

@vodka-glrl - come get your cold man!

#star rail #hsr #teen reader #dan heng #welt yang #jing yuan #blade #welt #star rail dan heng #star rail welt #star rail jing yuan #star rail blade #platonic #star rail platonic #headcanons #star rail headcanons

[papercupids]

here (always).

pairing -> seungmin x reader. ft. bang chan.

warnings -> a lot of parental trauma on both y/n and seungmin's side, alcohol, seungmin is a jerk and then eventually transitions into something that resembles connell from normal people, some curses here and there.

word count -> 9.5k

summary -> as kids of the rival businessmen, all you and seungmin have been taught is to hate the other family with passion and to be better than them always, but its only about time when you fall in love with each other and he messes up. will he ever get to make it better?

a/n -> this is loosely inspired by our beloved summer (the kdrama) & normal people (the book + the show) and i've been writing this fic since august last year :") its only recently that i got the motivation to finish it !!! lemme know what y'all think??

listen to this playlist for songs that remind me of seungmin!

act i. last year of highschool, midterms result.

“And for the first place, we have two people who are quite close to the other, kim seungmin and-”

The microphone boomed through the filled but silent auditorium, everybody was on the edge of their seats about the midterm result, but one thing was certain, deep down, they knew it would be either you or Kim seungmin in the first place. It was annoying how many times jiung from section c, or geum hee from section a, and many others had wanted their name to be announced by the greasy voiced announcer but had failed. 

Yes, you. You didn’t need to hear your name even to know it was you. It always has been that way, the both of you fighting for the first place.  

“However, their results differ just by a point,”

This piqued your interest, you knew your mother wouldn’t let you live it down if you let seungmin win ever. 

“y/n l/n, congratulations!”

Claps erupted from the hall and two rows from you, you could see seungmin smirk as he clapped too, but slowly and sarcastic, he’d lost but somehow he still managed to have that annoying smirk plastered over his face. You aren’t one to back down though, you bow down dramatically and offer him the most shiteating grin that you can muster. 

From the last three years, it has been this way, both of you just a point ahead of the other or sometimes not even that, just quite literally neck to neck. And this, to the amusement of both of your parents, has become a regular topic of discussion at the dinner table. 

It seemed like both of your families were destined to be rivals, your fathers in business, mothers in the bragging part and then the children in the academic stuff. And you weren’t quite sure why the two families would still insist on having dinner together occasionally, stabbing each other with words as much as possible. 

“To y/n, to the perfect 499 you scored,” you rolled your eyes, as yeji fake toasted her water bottle, she knew you hated the whole thing because a) it was worthless b) even if you thought it was worthless, you had to work your ass off for it. 

“I don’t know how you do it honestly, i’m practically dead with my 450,”

“You know i don’t have a choice,” 

She nods understandingly. 

"i feel bad for seungmin, you know, losing by just one point? he's gotta have a dent on his ego for sure,"

"let's rub it in," you smirk

The break was almost ending and you see seungmin entering the class, his friends cheering him on as well. You nod at yeji and get up, mischief on your mind, and tap at seungmin’s shoulder. The boys quiet down as they see you. 

“Congratulations,” he extends his hand to meet yours. 

“For losing to me again,” you wink as you sit on his desk. 

“Oh, come on, all of us know, i just let you win,”

“You’re one sore loser, seungmin,” you roll your eyes and get up. “See you at dinner.”

The conversations resume but seungmin looks at you, chatting away with yeji then joining a couple of other people, picking up your backpack and then ultimately leaving the classroom. 

He hated that he lost again, he knew very well he could have done better. 

But then he shrugged, there’s always a next time. 

the dinner was as crisp as the first few times, in one of those restaurants you could have a closed off booth. thankfully, or you didn't know what you would do if others could listen to the petty bickerings your parents were doing.

the greetings are through gritted teeth, seungmin looks completely dashing in a tuxedo, but his eyes are downcast. this was one of those times you felt sorry for the whatever jerk façade he had on, in school and here he was what he really could be.

it was fixed that whenever the results would be out, both of your families would go out for dinner, under the pretext of "celebrating their kids' hard work"

but you knew it was far from that, it was just something where they could brag about their own families and insist on paying the bill.

“So, seungmin, where are you looking at for college?” your mom asked, she wasn’t actually interested in knowing where seungmin was going she just wanted some material to compare you to later, to taunt you on how his choice would be better.

“Oh, actually, the same as y/n,”

“So the national university, then?”

He nods, chewing through his food. 

“I doubt he’ll make it though, the way he’s studying,” his dad interjects. 

And you swear you can see his face betraying him for a moment but he keeps a poker face as he says, “i’m gonna work harder, father,”

“You better,” your mum offers, “i want to keep on having these dinners, at least until you both bring your spouses to us, here,” 

Seungmin’s mom chuckles, “yeah, then, you can continue the legacy, with your kids,”

You, for one, knew that this was something both you and seungmin could collectively agree on, to never do the same your parents did with your kids. 

While you say your goodbyes, your mum holds you both and says, “i hope you get in the university, i really do, and you should work hard for it!” 

“We will,” you both smile to each other before leaving. 

Late that night, you have your headphones on as you look through your books, deciding what subject to study next as you munch on an apple. 

This is the time you enjoy, the night, the silence, your music and-

The changing of the track allows you to hear the light taps on your window, and you run to it, light steps as if anybody would even pay attention to those sounds. 

Sliding the window open, a brunette guy, about your age, comes inside, wearing a blue hoodie covering his head. 

And kim seungmin. 

“Hi,” he grins as you pull him in for a hug. 

He smells of the outside, the night and the comfort. For as long as you live then, you’ll always associate this fragrance with someone you love - deeply, truly. 

As you pull away, your face is just inches apart from his. 

“I’m so proud of you,” he cups your face then kisses your forehead. 

And then another kiss, this time on the lips. “I love you,”

This had been going for a while now, when two people are in the same shitty situation together, going through it with a person who’s having the same hell as you makes it easier. 

Later, you’re on the bed, lying fully clothed, looking at the beige ceiling of your room, your hands intertwined, its the way he makes you feel, like there's no train you're running to catch, no flight that's leaving, you're here and he's here, it's content.

“Do you think i’ll make it? In college, i mean,”

You turn to look at him, “you’re one of the most intelligent people i’ve ever met, seungmin, you shouldn’t be doubting yourself just because your dad said so,”

“Right,”

you make a dissatisfied noise.

“Look at me,” you make him look at you, “we’ll both be alright, okay?”

“Okay,” a grin makes way on his face. 

"i don't know though, i shouldn't doubt myself but everytime he says shit like this, i just end up wondering if i should really even do this, i don't even know if i'm capable enough, i just really don't want to disappoint him ever," 

"c'mon, minnie, we both know he's just frustrated and he can't find a better outlet than you because god knows how your mother would just stab him on the spot if he said something like that to her,"

"right, it just hurts sometimes,"

and you turn to him, brushing his cheeks with your thumb, "i'm sorry,"

he hums in response.

"you know i'm always here, right?"

you kiss him on the cheek.

he just smiles a little in response. 

And you don’t know when you fall asleep, just that seungmin’s arms are the best place to sleep, better than any expensive pillow you could ever sleep on. When the sunlight hits your eyes, you’re alone, and much to your dismay, a pillow in place of where seungmin was.

In your chats with seungmin, he has attached a picture, of you sleeping, “i shall now blackmail you with this photograph - fail the next exam, or this is going to be on every phone in seoul haha”

You type back, “oh no shit i guess that way they can have a new wallpaper ;)”

Seungmin replies “🤢 i dont think ive ever seen anybody as narcissistic as you”

You quickly text back as you button your shirt, “yes u have” 

Another text, “in the mirror”

To which he sends a rolling eyes emoji. 

After saying goodbye and “see you at school” you quickly delete the chat with him before heading downstairs for breakfast. 

You didn’t understand why seungmin insisted on keeping the whole secret, but then looking around at the breakfast table with your parents trying to explain to the cooks about some new diet they’d heard about from seungmin’s parents, maybe it wasn’t such a good idea. The idea of a competition was instilled so deep into their minds that they wouldn’t have ever even thought about such a thing. 

And at school, it’s the same day over and over again every week with the only relief being the student sitting about two benches ahead in the row next to yours. He smiled at you when no one was looking and a look passed between you both, which was somehow more precious than any grand gesture could have been. 

And the nights, your favourite part of the day, where you could be yourself, no guards up. Just him and you and all of your plans for each other, some music too maybe, but that’s it. In those moments, no stress could touch you, no harm. It was just bliss, just you both.

In that moment, you swear you could see forever, maybe a lifetime with him. 

But reality caught up with you in the morning, that even if a forever was there, with him for you, there were too many challenges in the way, challenges that were exhausting but you were still getting to them, one step at a time, as he kept your ship afloat.

just as the school year progresses, the one social event you'd been dreading catches up quick as you sit in the cafeteria, sipping on some apple juice as some members from the council are busy lining the hallways with banners of the school colours, purple with yellow, and on it, written in block letters, 'the annual dance.'

as if sensing that you are thinking about it, yujin takes a bite from a sandwich as she asks, "have you thought about who you're gonna take?"

"i don't think i'm gonna attend, it's useless anyway,"

"oh, come on, these are the years you'll later miss, you'll be 67 someday and when your kids ask you about the fun stories of your youth, you'll have nothing, do you want that?"

"i think you're just overdramatising it,"

"and you're not paying attention to me, you NEED to come,"

you sigh, there was sometimes no way to win an argument with yujin and you hoped somebody from the table would rescue you but all the other girls were engrossed in their own topics. most of them, about the dance.

the truth was, you would be lying if you said you entirely didn't want to go, because you did  but you weren't sure what that would entail. and a small part, okay, alright not that small but it wished seungmin would ask you to the dance.

it seemed impossible with the status of your relationship in the public but you hoped you could get past it, because as yujin said, these would be the days you'd end up missing.

but anyway you weren't even sure if dances were even seungmin’s thing.

so you sipped the last of the apple juice as yujin ran you through the pros of attending the dance.

"you can ask hyunjin, he has literally been eyeing you since the freshman year," 

"ew, what no, come on, yujin,"

"well, what about yongbok then?"

"no,"

"jeongin?"

"as if."

"hey! what about seungmin?"

and you can't even muster a clever response to that, yujin, thankfully doesn't seem to notice that she's struck a nerve. she continues chewing through the rest of her food and then finally, sighing, "at least sleep on it, okay? i want you there, really,"

you thank your friend and then head back to class, an entire day of books, notes and more books awaiting you.

the upcoming nights, there are just texts, "i can't come, i'm too tired," and there was no way you could have made 2 steps out of your own home without being caught so couldn't really blame seungmin.

but thank god for facetimes then. whatever you were doing, whether it was making notes for biology or tidying up your wardrobe, he was there, watching you, smiling at your little circumstantial jokes.

and after he fell asleep, you would look up at the ceiling till you could fall asleep, wondering how long someone could keep a secret.

maybe college would bring something more solid, and promising for you both. you desperately hoped it would.

you don't know why but on this particularly cloudy day as your family decided to drive out for lunch, your mind went out to the day you first met seungmin. you had been known him since freshman year but this was the incident that really made you see see him, in a different light altogether.

it was about march, and the air was crisp with the onset of spring, it was the perfect day for your physical education period where everybody was pondering whether they should play dodgeball or volleyball and they were actually serious about it. 

but you weren't quite in the mood to play, and looking back you didn’t even know if it was a lie or just something you were doing out of sheer boredom but you were heading straight to the nurse's office when you heard soft piano sounds from the auditorium because the door was slightly ajar and the tunes were so delicate and just flowing together that it almost sounded like someone was playing a prerecorded track.

but when you stepped in, you saw him, sitting on the bench and playing through, completely engrossed and as you move closer you realise he's also humming some lyrics.

you take a seat in one of the chairs, the melody providing a great relief to your ears as compared to the nonsensical chatter of your classmates and he's way too much into it to notice you there anyway.

and he slows down his movements on the piano as the tune ends on a light note, he finally turns, freezing when he spots you there.

expecting a snarky comment from you, he's picking up his backpack.

"that was good,"

he didn't think you were physically capable of compliments, so he just stood there, trying to make sense of it.

"thank you?"

"i didn't know you played, your parents never told mine i think,"

"don't tell them." it comes out as a threat when its actually meant as a request. he'd learnt how to play it from a friend and he didn't want his parents to know because they'd be all over him for wasting his time on something that 'unproductive'.

"oh, um, okay," 

and that was the day you began wondering about an aspect of the boy you were used to knowing, it became endearing to you the fact that he could have a whole lot of himself away from those pretentiousness of it all. 

and after that it's just inevitable, somehow you keep bumping into each other, sometimes during grocery shoppings, sometimes during bus rides the seat next to him would be vacant and you'd just sit there. any enmity was just pushed back gradually, as if you both were just different people here, new versions of yourself, it was almost refreshing. 

and then came the planned meetings, at cafès and small restaurants way too far from home so you couldn't have a chance to be recognised by anyone.

it just meant something that was meant to fall in place.

seungmin is tired; tired of sitting every day at the same dining table and being pulled apart, for every little thing he does or doesn't. he tries to concentrate on his food, on every strand of the noodles he's eating, on every crunch of the meat, so that the things he's actually meant to hear will tune out.

"and it's coming up," turning to him, his mother looks at him eagerly, "when is it?"

"when is what?"

"the dance?"

"somewhere in december,"

"seungmin, today is the 5th,"

oh, that could be the reason his face feels drier than usual, oh, it was also snowing. he needs to pay better attention to his calendar. 

only if he wasn't spiraling though.

he's convinced the only thing that's keeping him rooted and connected to reality is you.

"i think before christmas,"

"have you asked someone yet?"

he imagines the kind of trauma he would unleash upon himself, all the members sitting on the table and the servers, who are alert at every movement each of them makes, to refill every glass to ensure the stew is hot, if he announces he's dating you.

it would be hilarious in some other universe, but right now he was here, and if he was going to survive anymore of dinner at the same table, he needed to be rational.

"i haven't yet, i plan to soon,"

"you better, i don't want to hear about my son being a complete loner who doesn't even date, we don't want you being labelled as 'the nerd',"

seungmin's mother sheepishly asks, "do you know if y/n's taking someone?"

"i don't know,"

he's not even sure what you think of dances.

"you need to be better, seungmin, be better,"

it's the one dialogue which keeps on playing in his head, long after he's asleep, even in nightmares the monsters aren't chasing him to kill him, they're asking him to "be better, do better," and it stings as he lets it slide like he always has.

everywhere around you, you can see people holding hands, newly in love, their futures after the dance unknown.

the public displays almost makes you want to throw up but then you kinda wish you were holding hands with that one guy across a few tables, too, he's smiling at something someone said but as he catches your eye, he smiles at you, blinking twice. 

"i love you!" you want to scream to the whole cafeteria, standing on one of the tables. "i love you so much that i can't hide it anymore, i wish we didn't have to,"

it wouldn't be of any use, he's not keeping it under wraps voluntarily, and you know that. 

the sandwich on your plate doesn't look quite desirable but you're hungry enough to eat it in slow and unsatisfactory bites.

there's a sudden pause in the discussions of the girls at your table, and yeji moves in closer to you.

"do you know who asked yujin to the dance?"

you arch your eyebrows and then look at the mentioned person who is engrossed in conversation with one of your other friends, karina, and they are most probably going through their outfits for the dance.

"uh huh,"

"your arch-nemesis,"

your hand froze at the side of the table where you kept it for support and you stopped mid way of chewing your bland sandwich, and stomach lurched out, threatening to make you throw up in front of the entire cafeteria. you just pray yeji can't see it.

"i'm so surprised, right? i've never even seen seungmin look at her even,"

and you can't process the rest of the gossip which she seems to nonchalantly throw around.

"are you sure?" you ask, you can feel your lips begin to tremble.

"what do you mean 'are you sure?' i saw it, he asked her in the library, and she rolled her eyes at him but then obviously said yes."

as the bell rings, you dump the rest of your sandwich in the trash, and walk back to class, where seungmin is settling in his desk and dropping the books for the period that's about to follow, on the desk.

since the bell is about to ring, people are hurrying about trying to fit in a few minutes of free time before the agony of the class begins and running around; someone once said, what the school truly is, you can only know at lunch time. or not. maybe you just made that up in your panic and anxiety as you approach seungmin wordlessly and grab his hand, leaving no room for argument as you drag him out of the class, to the staircase where no one cares enough to go and whoever does has already left.

"in public, y/n? really?"

you can't answer him, so you blankly stare at his face.

"you asked yujin to the dance."

he shrugs, how was everything of so little meaning to him?

"yes, i guess,"

"i guess? do i really mean that little to you?"

"y/n, are you hearing yourself? we can't be seen together like this and you know it's because our parents would rip out ours and each other's throats if they knew, and they wanted me to go to this bloody dance, which, by the way, i'm telling you already i won't be enjoying. and the last resort was asking someone other than you, it's not a big deal, really."

and the bell rings. 

you don't even have anything to say so you withdraw your eyes from his; seungmin knows he's fucked up but he can't do anything about this.

he's sick of having things he can't control, but he can't do anything about that either.

the only thing that keeps him going is that he can change it, in the future. that it will be better.

and he walks away. the students, with their unpausing chatter are gathering inside the class again as he walks, and you stand there trying to figure out if the whole thing was just a bad, bad fever dream or maybe worse, a joke seungmin's family had planned, how easily can we make our son break hearts? 

you wouldn't be surprised if it was one of their tactics.

and the rest of the day passes in a haze, like a flashback, but you do remember not looking at him even when you see him staring at you, you can't. you aren't sure how much of this hurt you could take, if your parents didn't want you to date then you shouldn't. period. 

this was it. 

and the next few hours, you spend putting your phone on do not disturb and you're surprised by how much you can study when you don't have anyone to distract you and don't have to constantly check your phone for notifications, maybe this was for the better afterall.

but as you slowly reach towards the end, you can feel your notes stain with your tears, god, fuck him. 

and you can't even escape him in your own room, because every corner, there is something or the other connected to him, whether the plushie which smells just like him after he sprayed it with his perfume once or the watch he gifted you on your birthday, it's all there.

a pathetic thought creeps in your brain, you should just let him in, it's not his fault. and you knew it wasn't but you shouldn’t have been suffering either, it was unfair.

maybe all those road trips in the usa and the expeditions in maasai mara were meant to be just a dream. it just seemed worthless that you were stupid enough to think this could work anyway.

amidst the small chewing sounds and the slight clatter of plates on the table, mostly no one talks at the dining table, no one has to, anyway, they have nothing to talk about. 

If you remove the whole bragging to neighbours and relatives aspect from your family, they could actually end up being pretty cool too, not interfering much in your life except your studies. 

“You just need to study well, y/n, everything else will fall into place,” your mother always told you, she didn’t want you to be dependent on anyone, financially or emotionally. It was always one of her main principles, “stand on your own feet, then you can fall in love with someone, or not,”

So that part was pretty neat about your family. And you didn’t think your father was in quite a hurry to marry you off too, but you wondered if it’s just because you are just about to come of age, will things change soon? You hoped they wouldn’t.

After a lot of failed attempts and second thoughts, you finally clear your throat, and unnaturally which makes both of them stare at you. 

“Mum, dad, i need to tell you something,”

He’s been trying to call you for hours now, every call being forwarded straight to voicemail. 

He really had messed up, and if this proves anything it means he should have never listened to hyunjin rant about the dance, and how important making a move was, he just wanted to rewind time as far back as he could in the day and never pick up the books yujin dropped and ask her about the dance. How could he be so dumb?

“I don’t know what came over me, y/n, really, i’m sorry, please,”

And at that moment, a knock sounds at the door, “yes?” he calls out.

It’s his mother, holding a plate of different fruits, she pushes the door open with her hand and quickly shuts it off before balancing the plate again. 

“Seungmin, have you been studying late again?” she places the plate on his study table, and ruffles his hair slightly. 

“No, mum, just trying to revise a bit.”

And she sits on the corner of his bed, facing him and smiling endearly. “Good,”

“Have you talked about the date?” the topic he was dreading. Right now there was nothing else he wanted to talk about more, hell, he could even take her nagging right now. 

“Yes,” he answered half-heartedly, “yes, i asked someone,”

“You don’t seem too happy about it,”

“Because i don’t want to take her,”

“Then do you have someone else you want to take?” 

Yes. he could almost say it, could he? He wanted to shout, yes and i love y/n, a lot, at that. 

“No, i just think dances are stupid,”

“Oh, well, you could just leave early, if you want, just dance a bit,”

She stands up and starts flattening the sheets on his bed, cueing that she’s about to leave, “oh also, who’s this bang chan?”

“Hmm, he was an alumni, a senior, why?”

“y/n’s taking him to the dance,”

“What?” he almost shouts, and then regains his composure.

“Well, obviously, their mother called,”

He doesn’t say anything, he just hopes his mother would leave the room soon and closes his eyes so she can’t see it, the tears. 

After putting the pillows properly, she turns to leave. 

“Sleep soon, seungmin,” 

“Hmm,”

And as soon as the lock clicks, he opens them again, leaning against his desk, “fuck!” he whisper-shouts, running his fingers through his hair. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he bangs his palm on the table. 

If it didn’t hurt like a bitch, he would have actually given it to you on how genius the idea was, how it had struck the exact nerves it was meant for. 

He didn't sleep that night, he had too many mixed emotions inside him, he didn’t know what to even say to you, like what exactly even gives him the right to be hurt when he was the one who initiated the hurt on you first? 

He had unknowingly made what was one of the biggest mistakes of his life. 

At the other side of the city, you were hurt, you had thought revenge would make it better but it couldn’t, it didn’t, you just wanted to be wrapped in seungmin’s arms again, and stay that way, forever. The plushie, a bear one, didn’t do much of a good job of a substitute. 

and you couldn't believe that what you had put off doing for about over 6 months was so easily just done and it had went well at that.

"i'm dating seungmin,"

it had obviously garnered shocking reactions from your parents but only because of the abruptness of the confession.

"i mean, i was, not anymore,"

"well, i mean i could somehow see the both of you giving each other glances so this wasn't a surprise for me,"

your mother loved to know things, this was one of the things she knew, whether she was pretending or not, you couldn't tell but you went with it.

"why did you break up?"

"oh, well, he thinks it'll be a huge deal if his parents find out so he's not telling them and he asked someone else to then dance,"

"then you should, too," your father piped in.

"ask someone else?"

"yes, if there's anything we're gonna do is defeat them,"

and you laughed at the absurdity of it, but he was right, it would take the edge off.

so you'd call an old friend from school, chan, who was now in college, to come with you, that way it wouldn't even be weird.

the days leading to the dance brought extreme awkwardness, with neither of you knowing what to do in case of bumping into each other except admire the walls, or the ground if you do. 

"bang chan's hot, god, how can you take him 'just as a friend'? you might at least have some hots for him, hmm?"

"nope, he's hot, i admit, but not my type,"

"oh, well, then what's your type?"

"i don't know but not chan,"

she signs and shakes her head. 

"who are you taking?" you ask her out of curiosity but when she goes absolutely red in the face, it amuses you.

"i'm taking lia," she says quietly.

"oh my god, yeji! that's great, oh my god," you didn't know there was something going on there but you were glad it was, you could totally see it happening.

later in the day, in the library, you can sense some weird commotion and whispers a few tables away and to your absolute dismay, you spot seungmin there, along with a couple of his friends, so you go back to your book immediately. 

when you glance again, one of his friends  jisung was standing right beside you eagerly.

and you look at him questioningly.

"what?"

"um, y/n," he says. and you still hold the harsh, hostile look in your eyes, the few other people left on that table are looking sheepishly, including seungmin, who stole glances, seeming like he didn't really want to be interested in the topic but you know he was listening in, he had to be.

"i wanted to ask……"

"will you go to the dance with me?"

and you now glance directly at seungmin, really? lets say he couldn't tell his friends that he was dating you but he could at least have stopped one of his best friends to not ask out his girlfriend,  no, ex girlfriend.

but you feel sorry for the boy in front of you.

"i would have loved to, jisung, but i already have a date,"

he gives an understanding smile and when he begins to turn away, you call out to him.

"but save me a dance, will you?"

as he turns to go, you look at seungmin, his sorry face hangs there, and you shake your head. this was the last straw.

The doorbell rings, and you look at the time, it’s chan. 

You hold out your hand to your parents to stop photographing you, they’ve been doing that for the past half an hour, ever since you walked out all-ready. 

“Chan!” you greet him as you smile at him, it’s been a good while since you saw him and he’s definitely finer than what he was, grew nicely into his features, yeji had told you about him and you could see it now. 

He was holding a small bouquet of baby’s breath and as you lead him in, for a second round of photographs, he greets your parents and they make small talk too. 

After posing awkwardly for a couple of photographs, you look at the time again, you should probably leave. 

“y/n,” your mum calls out to you, and then whispers, “don’t think much about seungmin, okay? Don’t let him ruin your night,” you nod.

“Let’s go?” you ask as chan is talking to your father about something, nodding. 

You put the bouquet on the kitchen counter, asking your mum to place it in a vase for you, and finally leave, your parents reminding you of your curfew. 

“So,” chan holds the steering and looks at you, “long time no see, huh,”

You smile back, you’re meant to be happy today, no thoughts about seungmin please. 

As he drives to the venue, the rest of the conversation is about how the school has changed, some digs at the teachers, and how your studies are going. 

No one knew you were bringing chan, except yeji of course, but the others simply were quite engrossed in their own dates so much that they hadn’t asked and you didn’t think you would have told them either. But the thing with chan was that when he was your senior, he was The Crush, the guy everybody unanimously had a crush on, the nice guy, he was approachable, sweet, gentle, everything you could ever imagine being ideal, so you bet this won’t be something thats going to die down soon. 

Seungmin spent the past week trying to figure out how he’ll face you, preparing himself for the moment you walk in with chan but no amount of preparation could have readied him for this, the look on your face as you walk in, your arms interlocked with his, he’d have thrown up. 

“Everything okay?” yujin asks him. 

“Yeah, yeah,”

The dance in itself is not a very airy place to be, with people crowding around every empty corner and the dim lights fluctuating and the music was also way too uptempo for him but for whatever reason it was, he waved back as his friends called out to him.

he could feel yujin looking at him as he slowly joined them, because she wanted to dance and he didn't and to avoid that conversation was easier than saying no.

"oh did you see chan? can't believe y/n out of people snatched him?"

"what's there not to believe?" seungmin was now looking at you both talking to a few friends of yours, arms still not apart.

"well, you know, you expect nerds to be a little anti social you know?"

"well, good for her i guess,"

and he feels her tug at his arm.  

"seungmin, come with me,"

he follows, even though he knows what's going to happen, he just feels like these days despite knowing certain things are going to happen, he can't stop them from happening. odd.

"why did you even ask me?" this is the second question, he can't remember the first one.

"i'm sorry, i didn't mean to?"

"what?"

"i said, sorry i didn't mean to,"

"honestly seungmin, screw you, i can't believe i rejected felix for you,"

"i'm sorry,"

she's already gone.

i'm sorry, i'm sorry, i'm sorry, it keeps on repeating in his mind, he's sorry, to you, to yujin, to everybody else. he wished he was better, he could be, he just didn't know how to.

be better, be better, it was what he kept on hearing a lot of and he wished somebody would give him a manual for that. he was trying his best, so where was he failing? he failed at recognizing that as well.

and now he can’t move from this staircase he’s sitting on, the muffled music can reach his ears but its not as bad now, his thoughts drown it out now. that and maybe the "small" amount of whiskey jisung gave him. he shouldn’t have done that either. 

He leans on the wall, he should go home now, but he’s not ready to answer his parents’ queries so he sits there and waits, so he can go home peacefully. 

He doesn’t know when he falls asleep in that position, his limbs huddled together for warmth but he feels it when someone puts an extra jacket on his shoulders. 

In his drowsy state, he can still make out your figure, he’s convinced it’s a dream. 

“y/n,”

“are you drunk, seungmin?” 

he nods softly, he can feel a warm pang of guilt.

“I’m here,” and then looking at a figure beside you, you're talking to it, “can we drop him home? Its close,”

And he falls asleep again, in the backseat of the figure’s car, mostly because he still thinks he’s in a dream, an extended reality dream. 

“I’m sorry, y/n, i’m so sorry,” he keeps on saying. He realizes now why he slept so hard and unconsciously that day, because he’d been not sleeping properly for about two weeks, tossing and turning and then ultimately just giving up trying to sleep at all. 

He can’t walk properly, he sees you put his arm around your shoulders and lead him in, to the door. 

“Will you go from here? Are you sure?” he nods, still yawning. 

“Thank you,” you nod at him. 

The car door slams as you sit inside, taking a minute to compose yourself as you look at chan. He’s already looking at you. 

“You love him,” he says matter-of-factly. 

“Loved.”

act ii. 6 months later. 

he doesn't know how it happens but one second he's completely stressed about the first semester papers, trying to go through everything and anything he has missed, a sharp memory crosses his mind -

he's spinning in the chair that sits by your study as you lie on your back, questioning him about geography, there's a quiz the day after.

the moment that you look up at him, smiling as he gets an answer right is etched in his mind and its about to replay when a certain someone knocks over the table he's hunched over, nose deep in his books.

"hey," it's chan. 

he's immediately embarrassed looking at him because the last time he met him he was just muttering sorrys and leaning over to you for support.

"oh, hey," he bows at him as chan takes the spot in front of him.

"long time no see!" 

chan is a great person, he's very bright and he has that infectious aura of bright things except he doesn't want him here for two reasons, a) he's in stress, he'll get overwhelmed if he's not reading over every word and making sure he knows all of it, and b) he's not in the mood to be discussing the last time. this is the worst time to be bringing up the past.

Chan takes one of the books in front of seungmin and flips through it, “midterms, eh?”

He doesn’t wait for seungmin’s response but seungmin nods anyway, “don’t stress much, it’s alright,”

“Yeah, i’m just, cramming a little bit of last minute revision,”

“How have you been?” seungmin is just about to answer when chan’s phone rings, he says a little “excuse me,” and answers his phone. 

“Yeah?” “oh, it’s 7 already? I didn’t realize,” “i was just in the library,” “yes, i’ll head over there now,”

He cuts the call. 

“Hey, seungmin, c’mon, let's grab something to eat?”

“Oh no, no, it’s okay,”

“Just come on, we’d love your company,”

He wished he had asked who the “we” meant. 

-

Chan wasn’t mean, he wasn’t a bad guy. Quite far from it, actually. So it came naturally to him to invite the poor boy for dinner. The boy he had seen, not even six months ago, breaking down pathetically in public. He just wants to be nice, he swears. 

He doesn’t know or quite weigh the consequences, maybe because all of it is so spontaneous or maybe its his naivety on the subject. or maybe its the fact that deep down he doesn't like the way things were last time when he saw seungmin. 

So when seungmin walks out with him, after gathering all of his books and pens and pencils from the library table, they talk about the college, the professors, the courses they’re taking and they pass by various cafes and little bookstores, and grocery stores. Seungmin loved this street, he’d walk around it every time things got overwhelming, to remind himself of the universe, of other people, of how small they all were, how small everything was. It was just comforting to him in an odd way. 

They take a turn in front of a hamburger place and step inside, the pop music is a little too drowned out by the laughs of a group of people from their own university, they seem to be having a nice time. 

And he’s looking around as chan seems to have spotted the table where they’re meant to be going, seungmin follows, scanning the place, he’s never had the actual nerve to go inside one of these places, mostly because he’d be too anxious to eat all alone and he didn’t have.. Many friends. Just one, his roommate. 

In his peripheral vision, he sees the older male hugging someone and later pecking them on the cheek, was he third wheeling? He felt incredibly awkward in that moment but Chan looked back at him and called out to him, and he saw something which made him want to absolutely just regret everything he had done today that led up to this. Why did he get up on the left side of his bed? Why did he wear his beige shirt instead of the white one? Why did he go to the library when he could have easily stayed home. 

You. standing there. Smiling until it froze uncomfortable, the smile. Neither of you expected the other there, it was a complete sneak attack. One that perhaps chan should have got the memo to not have arranged if he was there at all that night. 

Chan wasn’t mean, really, but he couldn’t resist himself when he saw that boy on the table, all alone, his nose buried in the book, if memory serves him right he was somewhat popular in school, he’d have about five to six guys around him, not notorious at all, just good guys, who were popular. And Chan wanted to take a dig at him, the guy his potential romantic interest still couldn’t let go of.

And he should have known better, but at that moment it only seemed right to do it.

“are you crazy?”

“i really thought it would be nice for you to reconnect,” to say you were angry was an understatement but chan, at the same time was calm and composed which made you all the more angry.

“reconnect? after you saw what happened that night? after i told you how much i was still hurting because of him?”

“well, then wouldn’t it be a little better to talk?”

“NO!”

“oh, well, then, i’m sorry, i just thought it’d be too rude to not invite him since he already looked lonely,”

you sigh, there was no way it was that, you’d learn that in the months of being around him that he was nice, really nice, but sometimes he didn’t think much about the consequences, it was part of why you’d never date him, even if he kept on asking you to go out with him, on multiple occasions. 

despite getting over the dinner, making minimal and formal conversation, like you didn’t know each other inside out, it just kept playing in your mind that exactly a year ago, you were looking forward to this, on how this would be the best part of your lives. 

but this did confirm what you had long thought to be true, that you would never actually hate seungmin, in fact, never would stop loving him. 

as you said your goodbyes, you wanted to do nothing more than leave chan’s side and run towards seungmin, join him, have him tell you how his year had been going, how did he convince his parents to agree to him pursuing music as a subject when all along they wanted him to go into computer science. 

“chan,”

this was your stop, your cozy little apartment, the one you wished seungmin could come into, this time by the front door. 

he looked up, and you smiled at him. 

“it’s okay,”

he smiled, too, but it didn’t reach his eyes. He knew that instead of the outcome he thought of getting, by putting your past in front of you suddenly, it wasn’t going to go the way he wanted to. 

you love him, still. 

your hand hovered over the contact that you hadn't blocked but the message had been left on seen for quite some time. a blank profile picture and a username that you once thought would be tagged in a soft launch. 

the last few messages sound desperate. 

"y/n… please, sorry, hear me out at least,"

"i miss you, i'm sorry, can we talk, please?"

"y/n…."

that’s all. you remember debating hundreds of times, to text back, to call him, to ask him, to let him apologise. but it didn't end up happening.

a few days after that awkward meeting, it’s a tuesday, and you're so tired of it all already that you're yet again debating dropping out of college. it’s the day of the week when it was particularly hard because they all had engagements or plans for dinner, but you. 

maybe you can blame that you've never seen seungmin around on the fact that you were never sure if he was actually around but now that you do know he's around, it seems like every face kind of resembles him.

 so when you get out of the library on that particular tuesday evening, anticipating yet another convenience store dinner,  you’re too egoistic to admit that you were relieved to see the real seungmin there, even if you have no clue on how to react or respond to the fact that he's standing right there in the same aisle - browsing different types of jam and this seemed to be the only way for you to get some coca cola. 

he gives you an awkward smile as he holds two bottles of the jam, there’s strawberry and an orange jam.

"hey," it's a soft one, but you can tell by the tone that it isn't out of a simple obligation for him to say hi, he genuinely does seem to be wanting to talk to you.

you walk to him slowly. "hi, what’s up?"

"can you choose one?" he points to the bottles.

a bit later, you’re sitting inside a restaurant you had frequented for only the first month of you starting uni, quickly growing sick of the same dishes over and over again but since it was a close option, it was doable.

"i told my parents before the dance," you confess, he looks surprised, yes, but it wasn't one of the reactions you imagined, he wasn’t hyper or overly interrogative of you he just nodded.

"well, kind of a similar thing happened for me," he says quietly.

and seungmin explains how he felt like a complete pressure cooker in the days that led upto your breakup and that it finally lost control the day after the dance. he had a complete breakdown and something he always expected, happened.

although his father still doesn’t talk to him and neither does his mother except asking him once in a while about how he’s doing, he actually feels content with himself, all his life he’s done everything his parents wanted but he really couldn’t have lived with himself if he had let them dictate his life here as well. and he’d made a mistake by not speaking up sooner, maybe he would have had you still if he did, but at least eh improvised on it

he hesitates a little when he gets to the last part, and an awkward silence follows, but you’re glad you have food left on your plate so you can pretend to be interested in it.

"so, music, huh. what instrument?"

"piano.."

you smile at the memory, it seems such a long time ago that you met at the auditorium, you were so unaware about the memories you would hold with this person. 

"i'm learning the guitar as well,"

"you should play for me sometime,"

you mentally slap yourself for saying that, it was too soon to have ideas for meeting again but it seems like your mouth had a mind of its own. thankfully, seungmin isn't very aware of the debate inside your mind.

"obviously,"

another period of silence follows, in which seungmin grapples with the aspect of asking a question that he isn't sure if he should ask or not, but then gives in, the worst has already happened.

"so, you and chan are a thing?"

you accidentally let out a laugh. ever the curious man, your ex. 

"no, no," you shake your head. "i mean i like him, he likes me, we're friends alright, and it helps to have someone who knows his way around, so that's why we hang out," 

"oh, that’s pretty cool. i wish had someone like that,"

seungmin feels so relieved right now that he could break into a dance, he could even grab the waiter by the collar and grind on him. he was just that happy.

as you leave, he points to the opposite direction of where you're heading, "that side's me,"

"alright then i'll see you later,"  

but he turns around quick, “hey, wait, y/n,” you give him a questioning look.

“i can play the guitar for you, if you want."

in your more than a year of being together, you’d never seen seungmin’s room, mostly because he was too scared for you to come there although he would like to give an excuse of he didn’t want you to walk alone to and back from his place. but deep down, you did kinda know the reason, you’d have been pretty blind to not. 

so when he enters the number on the keypad, you look away. and as he invites you in, he rushes to put a few things into place, straighten the sofa, and take the dirty plates to the sink. there are notes lying around but mostly a guitar, just sitting on the sofa. 

“uh, would you like something to drink or eat?”

“did you forget we just had dinner?” you laugh. 

“okay, okay, yeah. i’m sorry, i’m just nervous.”

after making you promise to not laugh at any bad notes here and there, he finally starts playing. it’s clear that he is nervous, and he has a certain blush on his face. but you take this moment to scan him. this seungmin compared to the one that you dated, it seemed to be really different. there was an obvious change in the way he carried himself. he was struggling with himself but not in the way that he was before, this time he seemed free. free from carrying his family’s pressure everywhere he went. 

he played some taylor swift song from her initial days because he liked the country genre and he’s good at it. why he would think that you would laugh at him was beyond you. 

“you’re really good at this, minnie, uh, seungmin.” 

it grows awkward as your old nickname for him slips out and he ultimately puts his guitar aside. 

“i want to say……” he sighs. “there’s no easy way to say this, but i’m really sorry, y/n, for all the things that happened back then, i can’t skip the accountability because i reallly messed up but believe me when i say i didn’t really mean for it to happen, it was just a really bad time.”

you nod, “it’s, um, alright, i thought about all of it and it’s alright, we were really immature,”

“me more than you,” he comments. 

“yeah, but it’s alright, what matters is that you’ve changed, and for the better, look at you playing all these instruments, it’s admirable,”

he blushes a little, “thanks,”

after that one meeting, you’d been texting seungmin, on one excuse or the other. you’d forgotten your scarf that night in his apartment so he suggested you could grab breakfast together and he could hand it over. 

or later when you asked him if he wanted to study together for abit, which spoiler, did not end in you both studying because as compared to your school days you didn’t have pressure to absolutely be the best but you could actually enjoy the process. 

chan is.. upset, but deep down he did know that he didn’t stand a chance because he could tell that you were never over seungmin, so he gracefully stepped back. and he’s seen you around campus, hanging out with him, and he was happy that you were actually enjoying his company. 

“you know what would be really funny now?” seungmin laughs as you’re both sitting on your sofa, you’ve called your friends over to introduce them to seungmin. you’ve been hanging out with him for over a week now and they wanted to know who this new guy was. none of them really knew it yet that he was actually the ex you started crying over when you’ve had too much to drink. 

“what?” you ask, opening up a packet of chips meant for later, sit down next to him and then pass it to him.

“well, you could pretend you never dated me in front of your friends,” and his voice drops a little low, “like i did,”

“seungmin,” you place the packet aside and take this chance to do something you’ve wanted to as soon as you saw him again, kiss him. his lips are so gentle, and you’re so, so thankful to the entire universe out there that he exists at the same time as you, and that eventually made his way back to you. and as he kisses you back, you can sense the desperation in his actions, he reaches his hand out to rest at your waist but hesitates, so you place them there. 

“i would never pretend about that,” your face is still so close to his. he feels like he could cry, seungmin never really thought he could have you back, he feels relieved right now, he has the world in his palms now. he pulls you in close through the grip he has on your waist. 

“i’m never letting you go again,” he whispers in your ear. 

and the bell rings.

“is this a bad time?” giselle and ningning look at you suspiciously, “why do you…..?”

as they enter and look at seungmin, the puzzle solves itself, “okay…”

“actually we just thought of something we had to do, so what we’re going to do is leave,” giselle announces, dragging ningning out the door despite your protests to join the party. you also hear her call somi, “change of plans…”

#seungmin #seungmin x reader #seungmin x you #seungmin angst #seungmin x y/n #seungmin imagines #seungmin scenarios #seungmin headcanons #seungmin fluff #seungmin fanfic #skz fluff #skz seungmin #skz imagines #skz scenarios #skz angst #skz fics #skz #skz x reader #skz headcanons #stray kids #stray kids scenarios #stray kids imagines #stray kids fanfic #stray kids angst #stray kids x reader #stray kids x you #stray kids fluff #stray kids headcanons #stray kids fanfiction #stray kids fic

[songoftrillium]

Meet The (Updated) Writing Team

Hello Kinfolks! These last two months have been quiet for y'all in terms of updates, but BUSY in terms of the work being done by the sept of contributors to this project!

At the start of October I put out the call for help, saying that this project cannot succeed without the help and support of the Werewolf fandom. I'm happy to report that you as a fandom have responded phenomenally, and production on this series is now underway! These last few months have been dedicated to recruiting team members, and researching our book framework. We've about filled in the main core of the team, and have already gotten started writing Book 1: Cliath!

October through November has been dedicated entirely to research, both putting together a collection of citations we'll be using in this first book, and passing out initial writing assignments. This list is sure to grow in time, but for now we have plenty of work to do!

With that all said, I'd like to introduce you to the team that are showcasing the Gaians.

Amy Waller (she/her)

Bluesky

Ms. Waller is a freelance writer and massage therapist based in not-quite Northern Virginia, and is a contributor to D.W.A.R.V.S. . Werewolf the Apocalypse was her first RPG, and she loves the themes of shapechanging as self-actualization and of trying to balance instinct and wisdom.

Amy has joined the team to depict the journals of Cryptobiologist Esme "Leaping Ghost".

Bek Andrew Evans (He/They)

Linktree

Mx. Evans is a freelance writer and illustrator from Jackson, Mississippi. He explores themes of mental illness, disability, abuse, poverty, queer themes and the intersection of these statuses. He uses body and psychological horror, meticulous attention to medical details, and deep character dives as some of his favorite methods to achieve those goals.

Bek has been indispensible in book research, and will be taking his experience with M20 Sorcerer and writing for the Hearthbound, and fictitious news article citations.

Evie Emerson Smith (She/It)

Tumblr

Evie is a programmer and designer of video games living with her pack in Pittsburgh, PA. She uses primarily anthropomorphic characters to tell stories about identity, queerness, and the power of community.

She has joined the team as a technical writer, and contributor to the opening comic: Cracking The Bone

Excelgarou (She/Her)

Carrd

She's been described as a Werewolf: The Apocalypse academic, and wears this title proudly. She labors at all hours on resources for Werewolf fans - particularly as regards aggregating otherwise obscure information - such as the Build-a-Veteran tool or (especially) the Werewolf Index Project.

Excelgarou is our lead researcher, ensuring our book citations and narrative voices remain consistent through all editions. She has also been conscripted to write the introductory passage on the World of Darkness, and to redraft the Children of Gaia.

James E. Deeley (He/Him)

Linktree

Jim has been playing, running, and writing for tabletop roleplaying games since he was first introduced to them over twenty years ago. Jim has presented on the subject of writing for games since 2010, and has been contracted to write mechanics and to do character design by the likes of High Level Games, Lostlorn Games, and Renegade Game Studios, but is equally skilled at writing lore and narrative, skills honed over two decades of running roleplaying games and medieval studies, lending a deep historical context to his writings.

Jim will write the Western Concordat, showcasing the Silver Fangs, Fianna, Get of Fenris, and Glass Walkers.

J.F. Sambrano (They/He)

Patreon

J. F. Sambrano is an author of horror and (urban/dark/depressing?) fantasy and an advocate for indigenous rights. He lives in Washington (the state) and is originally from Los Angeles (the city); the differences are staggering but the ocean and the I-5 are the same. He is Chiricahua Apache (Ndeh) and Cora Indian (Náayarite). He may or may not be a believer/practitioner of real world magic. If he were, he would not be interested in your hippy-dippy, crystal swinging, dream-catcher slinging garbage.But magic is real, let’s not fuck around.

Beloved Indigenous World of Darkness author J.F. Sambrano is joining our team to depict the Bastet in the Dawn Tribes! A friend and frequent topic of discussion on this blog, we are honored to have him on the team to bring the Werewolf: the Apocalypse he's long-felt the world deserves to life!

LeeKat (She/Her)

Linktree

Lee is a freelance artist, writer, and English teacher based in Brazil. The bulk of her content is furry, homoerotic, and TTRPG-centric works. Her writing focuses on exploring the depths of emotion with tales of self-discovery, queerness, and finding hope in a desolate world.

A huge lover of Werewolf, themes of generational trauma and rediscovering oneself in a world of turmoil resonated deeply, as well as themes of spirituality and ancestry. Writing for this project, she hopes to bring others the same catharsis she felt through exploring the books and their many themes.

Mórag (it/its)

Tumblr

Mòrag is a writer and botanist from Te Wai Pounamu. It writes both botanical articles and horror stories, the former to raise awareness of ecological issues and the latter to explore what it means to be human, represent trans and autistic experiences, and addiction. It's horror writing is best recognized for its use of visceral first-person perspectives, body horror, and the grotesque. It is influenced heavily by works such as the Hellraiser films and the philosophies of Georges Bataille.

It has joined our team to write the story portions of the Song of Trillium, showcasing the legend of Tawatuy.

#world of darkness #werewolf: the apocalypse #dead mountain #werewolf the apocalypse #werewolves #w5 #werewolf the essentials #indie games #indie ttrpg #horror ttrpg #queer writers #queer ttrpg #witers #ttrpg #indigenous authors #brazilian authors