#one of his finest looks tbh

[tiyoin]

briar valley doesn’t know what to do.

the capable, dark fae are proud creatures. they pride themselves in being ‘superior.’ able to adapt to anything anyone could throw at them…

and yet;

it’s sunny out

for the first time in thousands of years, it’s sunny out.

the citizens of briar valley didn’t know what to do with this event. was it a bad omen for the impending future? was another war going to break out? did those fae come to attack?

all wrong and pessimistic.

it was because, for the first time in thousands of years, a draconia was happy. smiling, besides himself with joy as he stared into your crinkled eyes.

eyes which he found himself searching and scanning for any signs of deceit, any signs of ill intent or mistrust.

to give him a reason to shut you out and crackle his way back into his palace. but there was none. because as the sun peeked its head from the clouds like water being dropped onto watercolor, the more your eyes seemed to shine like those very colors.

as the light touched your face your eyes seemed to glow, to sparkle, to swell with so much love and adoration he could tell that the tears sliding down your face weren’t sad ones. but happy ones.

he’s only heard of humans crying from joy. believing it to be another one of lilia’s tall tales. and yet, there you are once again smashing his expectations.

his lips felt chapped.

yet yours, looked delicious. like a freshly baked cream puff young clover would used to give you. he himself didn’t care for the lightness of the pastry, yet he’d always remember the way you lit up once you chewed the treat.

he could almost chuckle at how you ravaged it. it’s remains spilling from your lips as you chewed happily. he remembers commenting about how ‘ruthless you humans were to cute things.’ you had laughed at the comment, cutting malleus off before he could finish. yet he decided to save that second part for much later, as having you laugh was enough for him.

the cream puff felt like sand paper on his fingers compared to your lips. they almost felt like jelly when he swiped his thumb across the bottom of your lip. your eyes slowly widening as you tensed up. your eyes followed his as he sat back down on his chair.

his eyes trained on yours as he swiped his thumb across his tongue before he commented about its flavor.

yet compared to now? your lips were softer than the pillow the princess of dreams slept on. they were smoother than the finest silk, and lusher than the rose queens prized possessions.

he had to tear his eyes away from your grinning face as he stared at you as a whole. you were jumping up and down, hands intertwined with one another as he stared up at you.

there was a pit in his stomach, an ache to his limbs, especially his tail. but most notably he felt a a burning in his chest that got hotter with each new ray of sun.

———

might delete in a few hours tbh

enjoy this quick malleus scenario i wrote as i typed. NOT‼️ edited‼️ i lost my train of thought and gave up.

trying to warm up the creative juices i suppose 🤓🤷🏻🤷🏻

#i was bored #not edited #twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #malleus draconia #twisted wonderland malleus #twst malleus #malleus x reader #malleus draconia x reader #thanks sativa

[silkjade]

& IF WE’RE ALL DRESSED UP, THEY MIGHT AS WELL BE LOOKING AT US

featuring— neuvillette x reader ⤀ warnings: implied fem!reader, nothing specific + no pronouns mentioned ⤀ summary: making your debut as a couple at the hallow's eve ball a/n: wrote this last minute but i'm in one of the latest timezones, so happy halloween ! (written before 4.2 aq)

"furina might be upset if we steal her spotlight tonight," you mutter, fingers nervously straightening the cravat resting at neuvillette's neck for the nth time tonight.

"let her be upset then. it’s not a storm i haven’t weathered before," he replies, wrapping his hands around yours before lowering them back down to your sides. he's sure you've fixed his cravat to be more than perfect already.

"yes, but garnering our archon's contempt isn't exactly something off my bucket list..."

a low hum ripples in his throat as he tilts is head in earnest trepidation. "are you having second thoughts?"

you shake your head—absolutely not. a secret relationship is no easy feat, much less one with someone as high profile as neuvillette, who in spite of his distaste for lingering within the public eye, is still often thrust into the spotlight by those hoping for a glimpse into the chief justice’s private life.

"just a little nervous I guess," you breathe.

to reveal the nature of your relationship, is a decision you've made as a united front. the gossip columns of the steambird already run rampant with thinly veiled monikers, and there's not much either of you can do when an 'honorable monsieur n' is once again spotted with a 'mystery someone'.

it'd open the floodgates to an onslaught of curiosities, but neuvillette would have the city be his witness, for though he still has much to learn about the ins and outs of human nature, he knows for a fact that his entire heart is yours. so whilst no authority in this land can truly stop the peoples' whispers, if fontaine wishes to talk, they can do so on your terms, without the threat scandal.

before the two of you, stands a pair of large double doors; the only thing between you and focalor's hallows eve ball, the only shelter from the costumed elite of fontainian society who's predatory eyes would land on you the second you step past the threshold.

to your left, neuvillette stands with an arm behind his back, a perfect gentleman costumed in the finest fabrics, the gold metal details glinting under the chandelier's light. with a deep breath, you straighten as you exhale, carrying the weight of your own matching costume with a dignity befitting of the iudex's lover.

coppelia and coppelius, two individual entities, who when together, waltzes amidst a flurry of ice and wind, persevering through any storm. gingerly, you take his outstretched hand, nodding as the doors creak open.

a/n2: tbh i only wrote this cus i thought coppelia & coppelius would be a super cool couples costume HAHA anways thanks for reading, and as always, reblogs + feedback are super appreciated ^^

© silkjade — do not steal, plagiarize, translate or repost any content onto any other platform

#— 𝓼𝓲𝓰𝓷𝓮𝓭 𝓙. ༯ #neuvillette x reader #neuvillette fluff #neuvillette x reader fluff #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin fluff #genshin impact x you #neuvillette x you #genshin impact drabbles #genshin imagines #genshin impact scenarios #genshin fanfic #genshin impact

[luvhotchner]

omg hi!!! i love your social media AUs and so I wanted to submit a request! totally understand if you don’t wanna do it but yeah, so maybe like an instagram au where reader is posting about aaron being all sweet and taking her out to dinners and in general being all romantic and the bau is like since when?? they’re all surprised by how nice aaron is being! i’d love to see this thank u!!!!!!!

━ Heart Eyes

summary: the soft launch of their relationship shocks the team.

warnings/pairings: hotch x BAU!gn!reader (but reader wears long nails), swearing, established relationship, just a lot of fluff tbh.

ahhhh thank you for the request!!! sorry it took so long but here it is and i hope you like it! ❤️

first instagram au! tell me what you think! fic under the cut!!

━ ★ ━

y/n.y/l/n

♡ liked by thedavidrossi, itgirl_emily, and 578 others.

y/n.y/l/n IM IN LOVE IM IN LOVE IM IN LOVE. NO ONE TALK TO ME IN IM LOVEEEEE.

👤 : aaronhotchner05

view all comments…

chocolatethunder SORRY WHAT.

↳ y/n.y/l/n 😋

itgirl_emily THIS ISNT EVEN A SOFT LAUNCH, THIS IS FUCKING CRAZY

↳ jjiscraycray WHAT THE FRICKEN FUCK IM SCREAMING

bbygirlgarcia i. knew. it. I FUCKING KNEW IT.

aaronhotchner05 i’m so in love with you ❤️

↳ y/n.y/l/n thank you for dinner and for keeping up with me and my shenanigans 😘

↳ aaronhotchner05 your “shenanigans” are what make me love you.

↳ chocolatethunder I BEG YOUR FINEST PARDON?!?! SINCE WHEN IS HOTCH NICE?!

thedavidrossi no wonder aaron is only nice to y/n.

↳ spencerwreid oh shut up he’s nice to you too

┉┉┉

aaronhotchner05

♡liked by y/n.y/l/n, chocolatethunder, and 136 others.

aaronhotchner05 y/n told me to post this because it’s “aesthetic”.

👤 : y/n.y/l/n

view all comments…

y/n.y/l/n no, i just like to look at your hands 🥰

↳ aaronhotchner05 ugh you’re awful.

↳ y/n.y/l/n shh you love me!!

↳ aaronhotchner05 yes, that i do.

itgirl_emily SINCE WHEN IS HOTCH LIKE SUPER KIND AND CARING?!

↳ y/n.y/l/n since always???

chocolatethunder WHAAAAAT?? FIRST THE DINNER AND NOW THIS LOVEY DOVEY SHIT?? WHAT IS MY LIFE??? i don’t believe my eyes.

↳ y/n.y/l/n well then believe it cause he is the best boyfriend EVER!! 💞💖💓💗💝💕

↳ spencerwreid my jaw is on the floor. the floor is unsanitary. i don’t like this situation at hand.

↳ itgirl_emily ur dramatic.

bbygirlgarcia i’m going insane. i’m going insane. IM GOING INSANE.

↳ aaronhotchner05 one psych eval coming your way.

↳ jjiscraycray SEE!! HES AN ASS TO ALL OF US. I AM GENUINELY IN SHOCK.

thedavidrossi i’m with the others when i say im shocked, but im really happy for you kids ❤️ take care of them, aaron!

↳ aaronhotchner05 i will, thanks dave.

↳ y/n.y/l/n you all could learn a lil something from papa rossi over here.

#aaron hotchner #luvhotchner #criminal minds #aaron hotchner x reader #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds incorrect quotes #criminal minds x reader #social media au #instagram pov #instagram au

[leclercsainzz]

could you please do a jude bellingham where him and reader claim to be friends but eveyone assumes they’re together??? like they leave flirty comments on each other or stuff like that??

JUST FRIENDS, OR?

PAIRINGS: jude bellingham x fem!reader

TYPE: social media au

yourusername

liked by judebellingham, gioareyna and 585,947 others

yourusername: if you like this, then you like me 😉

view 6,846 comments

judebellingham: let me unlike this real quick

↳ yourusername: boy, yk damn well you like me 😌

↳ judebellingham: i mean, i guess

↳ yourusername: do you like me, like me? or just like me?

↳ judebellingham: 🤫

↳ user: are they flirting or???

↳ user: for two ppl who claim to be “friends” this sure don’t look like “just friends”

user: i swear, it’s so hard to decipher whether they’re flirting or just playing around … like?!?!??

user: how do i like this multiple times??!????!? 😩😩

gioareyna: damn okay, let me unlike this

↳ user: LMAO, PLEASE 😭

user: soooo are you and jude together or?????

user: my fingers hurt from double clicking too much

user: you’re so beautiful, i swear 😍😍😍😍

jobebellingham: when you say, “like” do you mean actually like? like like? or? because i know a little thing or two

↳ user: jOBE! WHAT DO YOU KNOW?!!?? LET US IN ON THE SECRET, PLEASE, IM BEGGING!! 🙏🏼

↳ jobebellingham: as jose mourinho once said, “i prefer not to speak … if i speak, i am in big trouble”

comment has been deleted

user: HELP, diD jOBE DELETE HIS COMMENT?!!? 💀 iT’S NOT THERE ANYMORE WTF?!??

user: stunnin’ 😍

user: can i stop liking this post now?

user: girl are you and jude dating?!???? i need to know

user: 😍😍😍😍😍😍😍

user: ugh, she’s soo pretty wtf 😫

user: YN!!! where’d you get that sweatshirt?!!??

emmachamberlain: pretty girl 😍

yourusername

liked by yourusername, fedevalverde and 784,930 others

judebellingham: a place like no other .. mi casa! 🤍 #halamadrid

tagged: @realmadrid

view 9,937 comments

realmadrid: 🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍

user: let him cook!!!

adidaslondon: from birmingham to the bernabéu 💫

user: our starboy 🤩

vinijr: hey, judeeeee

yourusername: you’re that guy, huh?

yourusername: that’s my #5 🔥

↳ user: notice how she said “my” and not “our” 👀

↳ judebellingham: #5 on the field but #1 in your heart 😉 @yourusername

↳ user: “just friends” they say

user: unbelievable player! 👏🏼

user: ya’ll see yn’s comment?!!? she said, “MY”

↳ user: i’m telling you, these two are dating

england: 🤩

user: what a guy!! 🔥

user: @yourusername this yo man?

user: my man is currently thriving rn

user: cr7 would be proud

↳ user: missing my goat 😓

user: jude > that one barca dude (i said what i said)

↳ user: “said what i said” who mf?!!??

↳ user: i know who you’re referring to, i agree 🫣

jobebellingham: 🤩🤍

erling.haaland: hi cutie

user: #halamadrid 🤍🤍🤍

user: madrid > barca

↳ user: you mean barca > madrid

judebellingham

📍mykonos, greece

liked by trentarnold66, yourusername and 710,104 others

judebellingham: what a place 🇬🇷

view 7,831 comments

jobebellingham: wow, you’re cool

↳ yourusername: or so he thinks …

yourusername: hey judeeee 🤭

↳ judebellingham: hey pretty girl 👋🏾

↳ user: uMmmm??!?!?

↳ user: “just friends” my ass

user: welcome to madrid 🤍

user: finest player ever, i swear 😍

user: does anyone know if he’s alone on the trip or??

↳ user: why do you care???

user: I WAS JUST IN MYKONOS LAST WEEK 😭😭

user: this mf calling yn “pretty girl” was my last straw 😩

gioareyna: i miss u, cutie 😘

↳ judebellingham: i miss you too 😘

user: harry kane >>>> jude

↳ user: thIs must be a joke, wtf 😭😭

↳ user: did jude miss a penalty shot?!? i don’t think so! harry kane >> jude 🤩 CASE CLOSED! (yes, it’s a joke)

user: jude, the kids miss you, come back home

↳ user: me being delusional like 💀

trentarnold66: 🤩🤩🤩

user: live, laugh, love jude ❤️

user: sirrrr 😍😍

user: dude just stole my girl’s attention from me

↳ user: does your gf happened to be yn?!?

↳ user: nah, i wish tbh 😩

user: he’s so damn fine 😮‍💨

user: i told my mom about us

↳ user: ya’ll delusional, damn 🤣

user: is yn with you or???

user: he wants me 🤭

↳ user: yn, is that you?

yourusername

📍oía, santorini, greece

liked by judebellingham, jobebellingham and 601,101 others

yourusername: a lil vacay photo dump:) 😜

view 5,837 comments

user: jUde’s in greece??!? yn’s in greece?!?? does this mean?!?? they’re in greece together or???!?

gioareyna: 👀 oooohhh

↳ user: oohh?? wdym ohhh??

user: they posted different locations but im pretty sure they’re together!! jude posted a pic in a boat?? now yn?

judebellingham: hey ynnnn 👋🏾

↳ yourusername: heyyy bestie!!!

user: they HAVE to be together

judebellingham: are you following me? 🤔

↳ yourusername: pretty sure, you’re the one following me?

↳ judebellingham: mom did tell me to follow my dreams so;)

↳ yourusername: ooohh is that so??

↳ judebellingham: absolutely, pretty girl 😙

user: ^ iS he flirting ?????

user: don’t flirt with your “friend” challenge: level impossible

user: he can try to be a little less obvious

↳ user: who?

↳ user: jude lmao

user: pretty girl 😍😍😍

user: one chance is all im asking for, yn!!!!!

user: beauty!

jobebellingham: what takes you to greece, young lady?

↳ yourusername: simply lost in the blue and white charm of the greek islands 😌

↳ jobebellingham: and jude???

comment has been deleted

sasha__rebecca: hi, you’re hot! 😍

sasha__rebecca: that’s my girlfriend, ya’ll 😩

↳ yourusername: 😘😘😘

↳ jackgrealish: excuse me???

↳ yourusername: you’re excused, grealo

↳ sasha__rebecca: sorry, jack! my heart belongs to yn

yourusername

liked by sasha__rebecca, masonmount and 585,937 others

yourusername: 🤎🤎🤎

view 5,027 comments

user: how can someone be so pretty?!?? 😩

judebellingham: yo bro who got you smiling like that? 🤔

↳ yourusername: not you that’s for sure(:

↳ judebellingham: and here i thought i was the reason behind that beautiful smile but oh well 🤷🏽‍♂️ …..

↳ user: um????!??? hello??? does anyone else see this??

user: can we all talk about jude’s comment???!???

↳ user: im CONVINCED these two are together

user: i just know jude took these pic

user: gorggg 😍😍😍😍

user: your smile is everything 😩

user: “just friends” they say

user: nah frrr, who got you smiling like that??!?

user: jude, i get it, she’s gorgeous! i’d be obsessed too 😌

user: juDe’s COMMENT AKAKALDNFNXL

user: i pray they’re together ✨✨✨✨🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼

erling.haaland: coffee 👍🏼

↳ yourusername: oh, hey there

↳ user: why is he so random??? 😭😭💀

mikkykiemeney: 😍😍😍

↳ yourusername: ❤️❤️

user: were you and jude in greece together?

user: idc if she’s not a wag but she’s my fav wag 😌

user: her smile broooo 😩😩😩😩😩

user: jude’s real lucky, huh?

sasha__rebecca: let me take you out for dinner 😉

↳ yourusername: anything for you, my love 😘

user: she fine asff 😗

jobebellingham: 🤩

↳ user: watch out for jude 🤣 that’s his girl

user: jude, huh? 😏

judebellingham

📍south of france

liked by gioareyna, yourusername and 701,016 others

judebellingham: recharging with my bro! 🇫🇷🫶🏽

tagged: @jobebellingham

view 7,937 comments

user: you’re telling me that last post is you and jobe?? 🤔

↳ user: LMAOO FRRR 💀

↳ user: i guess yn is “bro” now

↳ user: like bffr, mate 🙄

johnstonesofficial: nice you!

yourusername: cute!

yourusername: bro 😊

↳ user: 😏😏😏😏

↳ user: just say ya’ll dating

yourusername: my fav!!!

↳ judebellingham: 💁🏽‍♂️ i know i am

↳ yourusername: sorry??? i was talking about jobe??

↳ jobebellingham: so inconsiderate, damn 🙄

↳ yourusername: tell me about it

↳ judebellingham: 🙄🙄 i hate you guys

↳ yourusername: we love you tooooo 😘😘

↳ jobebellingham: speak for yourself, yn

gioareyna: good people 🙌🏼

user: jobe is starting to look like jude, i swear

user: 🔥🔥🔥🔥

user: we all agree that’s yn in the last post right?

user: don’t you mean recharging with bro AND girl?

user: they look like twins in that second post

user: my boyfriend and brother in law 😩

user: bellingoal 🤩

user: the genes are STRONG STRONG

user: my favorite brothers ❤️❤️

user: mom and dad bellingham really said, “copy and paste”

judebellingham

liked by trentarnold66, erling.haaland and 711,034 others 

judebellingham: she’s not so bad 🤷🏽‍♂️

tagged: @yourusername

view 6,857 comments

user: FINALLY OMG WOANSKSLX

user: i had a feeling they were together but i was NOT prepared for the hard launch, wtf alssnsodbf

↳ user: you and me both, sister

jobebellingham: about damn time! 👏🏽

gioreyna: it’s official now, i gotta share the loml 😟

↳ judebellingham: sharing is caring after all 😉

↳ yourusername: um????

yourusername: you’re not so bad yourself, mate

yourusername: ❤️❤️

user: i was NOT PREPARED FOR THIS

user: uhhh, hello?????

user: am i dreaming or??????!!?!

user: I MANIFESTED THIS SHIT, IDCCCC

user: so this confirms they’ve been together for a while, right?

trentarnold66: have i been replaced, now that it’s official?

↳ judebellingham: never that

erling.haaland: i feel a bit heartbroken 💔

↳ judebellingham: just to clarify, you left first 🙁

↳ gioareyna: and then there was one left ….

↳ user: well damn 😟 thanks for reminding me 😭😭😭😭

user: my favs, omg!!!!

user: scREAMING ALSLAPDNFjelal

user: ngl i’m a bit heartbroken, but also happy for them

user: we’ve officially lost him, girlies 😩😩😩

user: i’m 💔💔😭😭 but also 🙌🏼🤩😏😉🤩🤩

yourusername

liked sophiaamelia, erling.haaland and 647,750 others

yourusername: i guess the secrets out, huh? 😝❤️

tagged: @judebellingham

view 5,047 comments

user: the first pic literally confirms they were together in greece!! bapsjdndkdjorgbpsndl

user: yn, babe, the secrets been out for ages 🙄 bffr

↳ yourusername: were we THAT obvious?

↳ user: yes, girl 😭😭😭 ya’ll weren’t the best at hiding it tbh

gioareyna: ahhh my man 😍😍😍

↳ yourusername: my*

↳ gioareyna: he was MINE first tho

user: the real madrid jersey 😩😩

judebellingham: 😘😘

judebellingham: i love you, pretty girl ❤️❤️

↳ user: cRying 😭😭😭😭

jobebellingham: 🙌🏽🤩

user: you’re cheating on me, huh??? 😒😒😒

user: “secrets out” as if nobody knew 💀

↳ user: nahh frrr 🤣

user: screaming and crying 💔💔😭 yn, you broke my heart

user: FINALLY!!!!!!! 🙌🏼🙌🏼🙌🏼🙌🏼🙌🏼

trentarnold66: this cute or whatever 🙄 preferably the latter

↳ user: please, trent 😂😂😂

user: they cute!! 🥰

user: favs

user: I CALLED IT, OMG!!! 😏

user: it was about time, girl!!!

#jude bellingham #au instagram #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham x yn #jude bellingham smau #football social media au #futbol #jude bellingham social media au #jude bellingham instagram au #jude bellingham imagine #real madrid #borussia dortmund #footballer instagram au #football fiction #footballer imagine #football x reader #football x y/n #jude bellingham x you #football fandom #soccer x reader #jude bellingham fluff #football fanfic #football #jude bellingham one shot #footballer x reader #soccer x yn #real madrid fc #football imagine #instagram au #social media au

[astridthevalkyrie]

your match is made | xavier x reader

“I know,” he continues, tucking a piece of your hair behind your ear, “that the people in our classes, the nobles, the folks in the marketplace, they all hold me in high regard.” “Xavier,” you try to argue weakly, already feeling your heartbeat speed up from where this conversation is going. The thought of losing him, of losing your best friend, your prince, your everything, it is paralyzing. “Please don’t—” “I know that my weapon of choice is a longsword.” “Stop,” you whisper. But he doesn’t, and he looks directly into your eyes with an open, honest sincerity written all over his face. Like this is his truth, even though it is yours. “And I know that you have known me all your life, and I feel that I have known you for even longer than that.”

cw: fluff, like that's it that's literally it this is so fluffy

word count: 6.6k

a/n: lyric credits used in this fic: téir abhaile riú by celtic woman <- fire song btw, listen to bless your ears, it also sets the vibe of this fic very nicely tbh. jeremiah's my favorite boyfailure.

Lanterns hang from every available line in and around the town square, brightening any block lucky enough to fall under its horizon. In every corner and roadblock, there are carts littering the streets, dozens upon dozens of merchants calling out their best prices on their finest goods, all the way from fabrics stitched by the very same threads used for the royals’ robes, to common sweet chocolates that all the teenagers are purchasing in bulk to share with their friends and younger siblings. There is room to move around, but there is not a single area that is not bustling with people, either trying to purchase steamed corn from the stalls or simply enjoying the festivities with their families. And in the center of it all, the bards play with such finesse that their fingers may as well be the source of the music rather than the instruments. 

Such is the celebration of lights, a celebration of the light. Of Philos, of this miracle that humanity has been gifted with. Every year without fail, the people gather in the town square to commemorate this historic occasion, and every year without fail, it is the grandest jamboree you have ever bore witness to.

“C’mon, Xavier,” Jeremiah protests out loud, “what would be the point of having the crown prince with us if he refuses to pay for our meals?”

Xavier simply shakes his head, the serene smile never leaving his face as he denies Jeremiah for the third time tonight—he clearly derives great pleasure from doing it. “I’d hate to rob you of the chance to participate in Philos’ market tonight of all nights.”

Jeremiah groans at his right, and from Xavier’s left, you giggle. It’s the same routine every single year, and at every occasion to be honest, and yet Jeremiah never stops trying to emphasize the difference in his wealth versus the royal family’s. Xavier, who you think would give his last dime to an ant if it looked hungry enough, looks like he loves refusing Jeremiah more than participating in any one of the activities tonight. 

The spicy aroma of rice cakes fills your senses then, and you let out a longing sigh as you look to the stall decorated with steaming bowls on all sides. “I’m starting to get hungry too, now.”

Both of them follow your gaze, where the vendor is hurriedly turning this way and that to discuss prices and accept payments, while three of his chefs work in the back, delivering more as the demand increases. Xavier hums quietly, then takes out a small black pouch from his pocket.

“I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to eat.” He holds out the bag for you to take, but before you can, Jeremiah scoffs, loudly.

“Oh, that’s sick.” He points an accusing finger at the prince. “That’s sick! If you keep playing favorites, you’re going to get betrayed when you take the throne, I hope you know. I swear I’m going to lead a revolution against you myself.”

“Do you really think my grandis knight would ever let you harm me?” Xavier shoots back, and you beam as Jeremiah rolls his eyes, snatching the pouch straight out of his fingers.

“I’ll take this, and I’m going to get two”—he holds up two fingers for emphasis—”two bowls, and I’m not sharing. Your grandis knight can split her portion with you.” With that, he stomps off in a huff, leaving Xavier with his head tilted and a confused expression on his face.

“I don’t understand. There should be enough coins for three bowls.”

“He’ll get you a bowl.” You raise your voice enough for Jeremiah to hear as he walks. “He’s very grateful that you offered your money, isn’t that right, Jermy?”

Jeremiah makes a rude gesture without even turning back to face you, and you laugh, grabbing Xavier’s wrist to follow him. If it were any other member of the royal family, they’d be getting swarmed right about now, and would likely require at least ten guards to stand around them at all times to ward people off. That is how the king and queen sit, a few blocks away from the main festival, up on a platform elevated high enough that no one could think to climb it, with Lightseekers both in front of them and on the ground, safe and observing the celebration from a distance. Philos’ crown prince is different. Xavier is out in the town with the common folk so frequently that he’s almost lost all the celebrity status his title comes with. Of course, that makes him popular in an entirely different way. The people in the market always seem happy that someone of such high status would lower himself enough to walk and talk amongst them.

His hand slips lower as the two of you go after Jeremiah, warm fingers intertwining with yours. You think little of it, reckoning he doesn’t want to get separated with so many people around. Xavier isn’t one to shy away from touch, at any rate. Once you spar with someone enough, it’s only natural to become physically comfortable with one another. He places his hands on your shoulders when he wants to guide you somewhere, bandages your cuts with his own calloused palms, presses his lips to your forehead to check whether you’re sick or not. In the face of all that, him holding your hand while running through a bustling crowd is hardly surprising.

Jeremiah is waving the pouch in the air hopelessly, trying to be noticed amongst the rest, when the vendor spots the two of you. “Xavier!” he calls happily. “Good timing, I have a fresh bowl ready just for you!”

“Unbelievable,” your chestnut-haired friend mutters under his breath, elbowing you as you laugh at his misfortune. Xavier steps closer, and you see him hold up two fingers to ask for more. When he points over, you wave to the vendor, who waves back before calling out instructions over his shoulder. In almost an instant, he has three steaming bowls filled with rice cakes ready for you to take. Your mouth almost waters at the sight. 

Xavier picks up one of them to offer to you, which you take gratefully. Taking a few steps to the side to avoid crashing into anyone, the three of you find a relatively less crowded place to dig in. 

Before you can take a heaping sip from the spoon, he gently takes your wrist and blows on the hot broth, meeting your eyes with a soft, concerned look. “Be careful.”

“I’m always careful,” you remind him teasingly, but blow some air of your own onto the spoon before finally digging in. As the flavors explode inside your palate, you hold back a moan at how good it tastes.

“Miss Knight!” a high-pitched voice calls out, and you turn in time to see a tiny pink blur moving past people’s legs. 

“Adelaide!” You hand your bowl to Jeremiah, who passes it to Xavier without even blinking, and kneel down to catch the blur in your arms. “Look at you, you look so pretty! I love your dress!”

The little girl’s eyes light up at the compliment. “Thank you! Miss Knight,” she bounces up and down eagerly, “I made something for you!” In her hands, she holds out a product of one of the several craft stalls set up for the children during the festival, a simple but elegant flower crown that she holds out like a grand prize. And from how your heart melts, it may as well be. 

“Oh, how beautiful. Thank you so much. Would you put it on for me?” You tilt your head down, and she places it on with all the care a child of six years would have. You know you’ll have a difficult time getting it out in a while after the flowers tangle with your hair, but you don’t mind at all. Adelaide is your favorite person to visit whenever the three of you come to town, the daughter of the seamstress who makes your uniforms, and you’d do anything to see her smile the way she is now.

“You look like a princess,” she says in awe. Your cheeks warm, and you stand up, gesturing to the other two.

“Speaking of which, you remember Xavier and Jeremiah, don’t you?”

Her small hands grip your dress robes as she hides behind your legs, peeking out at them. Xavier, with both his hands occupied holding your bowl and his own, merely smiles encouragingly at her, while Jeremiah waves. “Hiya, Adelaide. Your dress looks awesome!”

From the corner of your eye, you see her face turn bright red, and right as you’re about to coo inwardly about her adorable little crush, you hear someone calling her name. All your heads turn, as an older blonde boy, out of breath, almost pushes past people in his rush to run to her. 

“I told you not to run off like that! You could get lost—oh.” He stops short when he sees you, blinking as the color returns to his cheeks after his run. “H-hi there.”

“Hi, Neville.” You smile at Adelaide’s older brother, who’s almost always around when you visit. “Enjoying the celebration?”

“Definitely—I’m sorry I haven’t come to see you, I was helping Mother with her stall, a-and I didn’t know your master would give you the night off.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t miss this for the world. And the grandis knight is at the king’s side, he could hardly stay to train me on such an important night.”

“Right.” He stands with his hands on Adelaide’s shoulders, only staring, seemingly forgetting why he’s there in the first place. For a few moments, no words are said at all.

Right when you’re about to cough awkwardly, he snaps back to attention. “Um, would you like to dance?”

“She can’t,” Xavier says immediately, almost making you jump. He’s almost right behind you, looming over your shoulder and staring Neville straight in the eyes with an expression you’ve never seen on him before. 

“Xavier!” The blonde bows clumsily (and unnecessarily) before straightening up, an unspoken question in his eyes. He looks between you and Xavier, and while you hadn’t been planning to agree to his request in the first place, you look at Xavier curiously as well. He’s never before dictated what you do during the celebration, whether you’re with him and Jeremiah or with some of the others in your class. 

“She can’t,” he says again, a bit more softly, “she can’t, because…” He takes one glance at you, then down at the two bowls in his hand, then looks back up. “She’s already going to dance with Jeremiah.”

“What?” both you and your supposed dance partner question at the same time. 

“You’ve been meaning to ask her to dance the whole night.” Xavier’s blue eyes fall on Jeremiah, with a pointed gaze. “This song is about to end, I think now is as good a time as any.”

“But I’m eating!” he whines, shaking the bowl in his hands as though to beg Xavier to take pity on him.

“I’d be happy to dance with her before Jeremiah steps in—” Neville offers, but he’s cut off by Xavier again, and this time his voice is icier, and his eyes are narrowed on Jeremiah who’s pouting at him.

“No, I think Jeremiah should do it now before it’s too late.”

Whatever message he’s trying to get across, Jeremiah clearly understands it, groaning and taking one last sip before grabbing your hand and tugging you to the main grounds. You’re only slightly irked that no one actually waited for your answer on whether you wanted to dance or not. But you’re more confused than anything else. Just a few minutes ago, both of them were fine, what could have happened so soon to make Xavier sound so cold?

“Have you really been meaning to ask me to dance all night?” you try asking, but Jeremiah only rolls his eyes.

“Please shut up. I already have to deal with His Majesty the Oblivious Idiot tonight, I can’t deal with both of you.”

“What are you talking about—”

“Miss Grandis Knight!” one of the bards, the violinist, waves to you. You’re momentarily distracted, smiling at her. It’s quite nice, if maybe a bit egotistical, to hear anyone call you what you’re trying so hard to be even when you haven’t achieved it yet. “Coming to dance?”

“I am!” you shout back cheerfully. “Give me a good one!”

She thinks for a few seconds, then makes a motion to the other musicians. Placing the violin against her collarbone delicately, she begins to pluck a familiar tune, one that has you lighting up and has the crowd cheering. Even Jeremiah grins as the two of you face each other, both of you well versed in proper dance etiquette from taking the same classes growing up. 

First, he bows, mimicked by the other men in the large circle that’s formed, extending a hand to their dance partners. Then you, and the other ladies, curtsy, and with a light step you take his hand and begin the dance. The bards begin to sing the contagious melody, as you and Jeremiah step in place, back and forth, your arms extending then coming together, before he twirls you under his arm. Both of you are laughing for no real reason, perhaps aside from how frivolous this is compared to the fighting techniques you’re usually partaking in together.

The song builds, and builds, and his hands slip to your waist, helping you leap across him before he ducks his head dramatically. The violinist calls your name, pointing at you to sing the next verse. Through your giggles, your cheeks warm at the attention, but you oblige.

Swishing your dress around you, you bounce off Jeremiah, pointing at him with a flourish. “Come now and follow me down, down to the lights of Galway where—” Your eye catches Xavier’s, who’s watching you as though you’re the main event. With everyone else’s attention already on you, you’re not sure if you can possibly take any more, but something about his gaze makes your chest feel lighter, as though in this celebration of lights, the real light is the one staring at you, the one who has eyes for no one else. “There's fine sailors walking the town, and waiting to meet the ladies there!”

The bards take over the song again, yet the spell doesn’t break. As Jeremiah twirls you again and hands you off to the next man, switching dance partners easily, you beckon Xavier towards you, urging him to join. 

The night is young, you try to convey to him wordlessly, and I don’t want to be without you.

He steps forward, as you switch dance partners again. While you hadn’t meant to dance in the first place, it makes you feel lightheaded in a good way. The movements you have to do are light as opposed to rough and unforgiving on your muscles, and the alternating hands on your body handle you as gently as possible instead of trying to seek out all your weak points. 

Your head tilts to the side, trying to see if Xavier entered the fray or not. You’ve lost sight of him, in a different part of the circle now, and you can’t search properly without breaking the formation of the dance and ruining everyone’s fun. The next person you spin into ends up being Neville, who chuckles shyly and tells you, “Not bad, Miss Grandis Knight!”

His moves are far more stiff than Jeremiah’s, but far be it from you to judge when he hasn’t had formal training. The important thing is that he tries, and you still have fun, and besides, the song is ending now. You’re almost back to where you started in the circle, just one more spin and—

A familiar, calloused hand grazes yours, skimming down the side of your arm. You gasp at this touch, far more coarse than the others, and the only one to leave you breathless, not least because it’s accompanied by the striking blue of Xavier’s eyes. 

When he extends and brings you closer, it is more than just natural. Xavier is of royal blood, it is almost as if he was born to do this. Your feet step with his without you having to look down, so familiar with his balance and pace from years and years and years of sparring together. And not even once do you break away from his piercing gaze, because you’re nervous that if you do, he might just disappear.

The song comes to an end, with a final step forward and your hands on Xavier’s chest, and everyone erupts into cheers. The noise surrounding you makes the silence between you and him all the more deafening.

As the two of you simply stare at each other, breathing in sync, one of his hands reaches up, first resting on your cheek before then making its way up to gently adjust the flower crown that had slanted on your head while you were dancing. Once he fixes it, his head tilts down, just enough that his nose brushes against yours, and a smile forms on your lips.

“I am very pleased you joined, my liege.” Your eyes shine in gratitude.

Xavier opens his mouth to respond, and that’s exactly when Jeremiah chooses to slump against his shoulder, yawning. “Oh man, I’m spent. When do we go back to the academy?”

Xavier looks mildly disgruntled. “This is going to go on for hours,” you tell him, frowning, “we can’t leave now. Besides, the fireworks will start soon.”

“Another dance?” the crown prince suggests, sliding your palm into his. 

Jeremiah gives him an unimpressed look. “Give it a rest.”

Stepping past the two of them, you look at all the tables mostly occupied by children being distracted by someone painting little butterflies and stars on their faces or the tiny flutes that are passed out for them to blow into. One of the pastry vendors is handing out baked goods for free, and while you didn’t actually get any chance to eat earlier, you want to find something to actually do. You’re not tired after dancing; on the contrary, now you’re restless and brimming with energy. 

“Come on,” you declare readily, taking both their hands and pulling them into the ruckus. Your boys have little choice but to come along with you. Your feet will start to ache soon too, you’re sure. But for now, while they don’t, and while the way Xavier was staring at you is still burned into your mind, you want to enjoy yourself.

Once again, his fingers tangle with yours, clinging to your hand warmly—a stark difference to Jeremiah’s, which you have to grip onto harder to make sure he doesn’t get left behind. He whines and complains the whole time, telling you he’s sore all over and that the three of you should try and beat the rush by leaving early. You’re used to this routine every year, so you’re not fazed. Nor is he serious, because even though you could physically force him to stay, Jeremiah never tries to leave until you and Xavier are good and ready.

As you run, different students in your section call out to you and Jeremiah. People are just slightly more hesitant to address Xavier directly, but you’ve never understood such a thing. The last thing he is is intimidating. Well, maybe place a sword in his hand and he becomes slightly fearsome (to everyone except you). There’s still no need to pretend that Xavier ever struts around demanding everyone show him the highest respects. He’s the furthest thing from arrogant.

It makes you feel proud, really, knowing you’ll be in the service of Philos’ greatest king.

“Xavier!” someone finally calls out. For a second, you’re thrilled, until you see who it is, and your face falls.

The title of grandis knight comes with a certain authority. Not one that you actually have yet, of course, but people respect the current holder of the position, and as his prized mentee, that respect teeters down to you most of the time. 

Keyword being most.

Just a few months back, you and Lillia had been close friends. You weren’t as close to her as you were to Xavier and Jeremiah, but she was still someone you confided in. You knew a few personal things about her, and she knew a few personal things about you. It was nice to be able to talk to someone who wasn’t a guy, or your trainer, or one of the older students. Just another girl around your age training to become a Lightseeker.

But you should have realized that the respect you garnered by swearing to be the future king’s bodyguard came with a reasonable risk of betrayal as well. And yes, betrayal is a strong word. Technically, nothing happened. There is no accusation you can level at her. At least not without someone calling you hysterical, and that’s hardly needed when you’re already a woman seeking the highest position in the court, second only to the king himself.

It had come down to one night, with just you and her sitting and talking about nothing in particular, when she had leaned in and asked you something.

“So do you like anyone?”

It had been a quiet night, and the two of you had been the only ones awake, holed up in an old classroom, so you hadn’t thought any consequences could come from speaking truthfully—or at least, what you had genuinely believed to be the truth.

“Not really.” You’d shrugged, leaning back on the desk you were sitting on, putting your weight on your palms. “Most of the people in our section aren’t really my type.”

“Really?” Lillia had smiled slyly. “Not even Xavier?”

Your nose had wrinkled—not in disgust, just confusion. “Xavier? Why?”

“What do you mean? You two spend all your time together. You’re always sparring. Doesn’t romantic tension build up after something like that?”

“Maybe if we were equally matched,” you’d huffed, shaking your head, “I always beat him, I certainly don’t feel any tension. Besides, he’s going to be king. And I’m trying my best to be his grandis knight. We could never be in a relationship even if we wanted to be.”

“So you don’t have any interest in him?” she’d asked, a little more forcefully. You’d thought nothing of it at the time. 

“I mean…” Your stomach had twisted a bit uncomfortably and you’d averted your gaze. “If you had a sword to my neck, if I had to choose someone…”

And it had forced you to think about it. A far off scenario, if he wasn’t going to be the king, or if you weren’t going to be the grandis knight, or maybe both. It had been difficult to see Prince Xavier as anything else, but…it wasn’t impossible. If you were both just students, or partners, or even if you worked at that bakery that he loved to frequent. 

If you were just a normal person, and he was as common as everyone else, the first thing you’d thought you’d notice about him would be his eyes. It’s what you notice about him most of the time regardless. He has nice eyes. They have a sincerity in them that most people lack. And he looks at you a lot, so you would know.

He’s not bad to look at either. And he’s kind. A good leader. With a precious heart. And skilled fingers—

Blinking out of the hypnotic thoughts you’d fallen into, you’d hidden your suddenly flustered state as best you could and simply answered, “I suppose if I had to choose to love someone, I’d choose Xavier.”

And that had been that. Or so you thought. Everything had been alright, at least.

Until the next morning, when you’d walked out of your class and seen Lillia’s arms around Xavier’s neck. 

For a second, it had felt like Philos stopped turning on its axis. 

It wasn’t like Xavier had reciprocated. But that was only because he had been too polite to shove her away, and it would’ve been inappropriate to engage in anything further. Crown prince or not, he was still a guy, and obviously a pretty girl pressed into him in such a way would interest him.

And Lillia had caught your eye, and smiled triumphantly, as though to say well, if you don’t want him, then…

Even though you hadn’t said you didn’t want him. Well, you had said you weren’t interested, yes. But you had also told her that if someone held a blaster to your face if you didn’t cherish someone, then you would cherish Xavier. And maybe that hadn’t been a confession, but it hadn’t been you giving her permission to pursue him either. Not that she needed your permission, because it wasn’t like you had a claim on him, and it wasn’t supposed to make your chest burn that he, even for a second, looked at anyone else the way he looked at you.

You hadn’t confided your weak feelings to anyone else after that.

“Hi, Lillia,” Xavier says, snapping you out of your thoughts. You didn’t even realize until now that the three of you had approached her. “What’s this booth for?”

“Oh, it’s amazing,” she gushes, wrapping her hands around his arm and tugging. Your eye twitches. “She’s a fortuneteller. For just a few copper pieces, she’ll answer any one question you want to know about your life.”

“Really?” he asks softly, and all your gazes shift to the woman who bows her head to the prince, sitting in her chair with a purple drape over the small table in front of her. “I’m not sure what I’d want to ask.”

Lillia smirks in a way that makes you uneasy. “Well, I asked about my future partner.”

“Partner? For sparring?”

“For marrying, you dolt,” Jeremiah snorts, “c’mon, Xav, sit down and let’s see which unlucky soul gets to be queen of Philos.”

You’re nervous that he will, and you’re nervous that you won’t like the answer. Because it wouldn’t be you, you’re sure of that. And you shouldn’t want it to be you. That doesn’t mean you think he should be with her, either. What business did Lillia have pursuing Xavier, at any rate? She was training to be a Lightseeker too—but of course, the average knight did not have the same restrictions the grandis knight did—not that it matters because you have no say regardless—

But Xavier shakes his head. “No, it’s okay. My future partner will simply be…whoever the kingdom deems the loveliest of the lot.”

Your heart both inflates and deflates at his response. On one hand, you hadn’t wanted him to have his fortune read, for fear of heartbreak. On the other hand, a part of you had foolishly hoped that he would have the same option to love like everyone else did.

“You should do it,” Jeremiah nudges you with his elbow. Before you can protest, Lillia’s eyes light up.

“Oh, yes, you should! Here, come sit.” 

“Um, I don’t know.” Warily, you gaze over at the fortuneteller, who merely gives you a serene smile. “Is she going to give me someone’s name?”

“No, just a description. She told me my future partner would be someone of noble descent.” Lillia beams, showing off her too-perfect teeth, and suddenly you feel inadequate. You know what she’s implying, even if Xavier doesn’t. After all, there are very few people who would match that description.

So, not wanting to seem like a coward, because the king’s sword is anything but a coward, you step forward, sitting down in the leathery chair. You’re about to reach for your pocket to take out the copper pieces, when Xavier reaches over and places them in the fortuneteller’s palm, giving you an encouraging look that makes your heart sink. Perhaps you should have listened to Jeremiah earlier and called it a night.

When the woman takes your hand, she closes her eyes, running her thumb back and forth against your calluses. Your breath gets stuck in your throat, and you try not to move a muscle. For some reason, it feels like if you so much as twitch, you’ll get the wrong answers, and you’re not even sure what the right answers are. 

Her eyes open, piercing yours with a startling gaze. “Fascinating,” she murmurs, “I see three things about your lover.”

To hear that word—lover, instead of spouse or partner, makes your entire face feel hot. Lillia giggles, saying something under her breath that you don’t catch but makes you feel violent tendencies nonetheless.

“First, he is someone held in very high regard by all around him.”

Oh no.

“Second, a longsword is his weapon of choice.”

Oh no.

“And third, you have known him all your life.”

Well, she may as well have just screamed Xavier’s name at the top of her lungs.

Everyone is silent for a few seconds. There is a heavy pause in the air, because who else could she be referring to? Who else fits that exact description? All Lillia was told was she’d be with someone of noble descent, which could be at least a few people. The painful beating in your chest is onset because there is only one person that your fortune fits. 

You know it, he knows it, even Jeremiah and Lillia know it. 

So you do the only thing you can do. You calmly stand up, offer the fortuneteller a tight-lipped smile, and turn on your heel and run.

Behind you, a few different people call your name, though you note distinctly that Xavier isn’t one of them. After that, even if other people are still recognizing you and trying to get your attention, you can barely think straight enough to identify their voices, let alone respond. You run, out of the town square, out of the festival, out of the sight of anyone who could possibly perceive you.

You run as far as you can before your legs start aching, which, unfortunately for you, takes a long time with your endurance training. By the time you feel even a twinge resembling pain, you’ve already made it a far distance away from the celebration, near the seamstress’ shop. 

With gritted teeth, you heave yourself over the fence, knowing you’re more than welcome in her garden. It’s luscious, orange and lavender chrysanthemums in the center stealing the spotlight from all the other flowers. Instead of going towards them, you curl up next to the lilies, because you already feel unremarkable enough.

It’s not that you think Xavier would be disgusted by you. The two of you are friends—but that’s exactly it, the major problem of having feelings for him. Besides the fact that you are supposed to brandish your sword in his name, you cannot like him because you’d rather die than lose your best friend. You couldn’t even say how long you’ve known him, but you do know that he’s the best part of your life. Not for anyone would you bow your head. Not for anyone would you lay your life down. You’ve observed Xavier for years and years and there is not a single other person in the royal family that you would follow into any battle, through any world, past any planet. 

You groan, burying your face in between your knees. At some point in between the months Lillia first asked you about him and now, you’ve gone beyond just considering him as more than a friend. You’ve even got past having a measly crush on him.

You’re in love with Xavier, and it’s awful.

Breathing slowly, you gaze up at the night sky, where the fireworks have still not made their appearance. The wind teases the flowers around you, making them tilt a little to the left, which is oddly how you feel too. Not uprooted, but bent, just like a flower. 

With a blade of grass in between your fingers, you follow the direction the flowers are blowing in, only to find yourself staring at shining ceruleans.

“Xavier!” you gasp, eyes widening with a start. You move to stand as a reflex, but he raises a single hand, and you stop.

There isn’t a single bead of sweat on his face. He is breathing a little raggedly, and his uniform is stained with some sap he must’ve not been able to avoid from the bushes on the way over. His face—well, his face is pristine as always, there isn’t a moment when the prince of Philos looks anything less than dreamy. But it’s not his features you’re gazing at, but the concerned expression upon them, directed straight at you, with caring eyes and pinched brows.

You almost want to cry just at the thought you’ve worried him.

“Are you alright?” His voice is quiet, cautious, fragile. Like you may break if he’s too forceful in his questioning.

“Yes, fine,” you reply automatically, though you suppose you now have to make up a story for why on Philos you ran away like a child, especially because he sits next to you, knees raised in the same manner as yours.

“I was merely…overwhelmed, by the crowd.” The explanation sounds weak even as your tongue speaks it, but you cannot think of any other reason for your actions. At least this is easier than the truth. Anything is easier than the truth.

For a few seconds, there is silence, and as uncomfortable as this already is, you can’t bear it. So you turn to look at him, and you realize with burning cheeks you realize he is staring right back. You don’t even think he’s looked at the blossoming flowers even once; his head seems to be fixated in your direction.

“I know you constantly score better than me,” Xavier says softly, “but I am not foolish.”

With a hesitant hand, as though he’s asking for permission, he reaches up to once again adjust the flower crown on your head. Your heart falls, and you really should’ve known better to think Xavier could not read you like an open book, especially after a fortuneteller quite literally did read you like an open book.

“I know,” he continues, tucking a piece of your hair behind your ear, “that the people in our classes, the nobles, the folks in the marketplace, they all hold me in high regard.”

“Xavier,” you try to argue weakly, already feeling your heartbeat speed up from where this conversation is going. The thought of losing him, of losing your best friend, your prince, your everything, it is paralyzing. “Please don’t—”

“I know that my weapon of choice is a longsword.”

“Stop,” you whisper.

But he doesn’t, and he looks directly into your eyes with an open, honest sincerity written all over his face. Like this is his truth, even though it is yours. “And I know that you have known me all your life, and I feel that I have known you for even longer than that.”

Your lower lip trembles. Never once did you take him for the cruel type. There is no rule nor reasoning for this, to utterly expose your feelings even more and mock you for them, and if you sit here any longer you’re afraid you will begin to sob, and then not only will your friendship with Xavier be at risk, but your future position as well. The grandis knight cannot be weak. The grandis knight cannot shed tears for such silly matters as love. 

To preserve your role, to preserve your reputation and your dignity, you make to stand, to run even farther this time, but Xavier holds your wrist before you can, tugging you back to face him. There is no cruelty in his expression, in fact there is a tenderness as though he is somehow touched by your very clear devotion to him. 

His finger tilts your chin up, unwittingly making you demand a respect you don’t believe you deserve right now. His brow is pinched, as though he’s upset that you would let anyone, even him, turn you soft as a dandelion.

“I also know,” he breathes, “that this kingdom finds you incredibly lovely.” 

The world seems to stop.

“As…” Xavier’s hand rests itself on your cheek, and the most beautiful smile lights up his face as he murmurs, “Do I.” 

You lean in the same time he does, and faintly you hear fireworks erupt as you kiss the prince of Philos for the first time. 

The world is quiet, and so, so, so loud. Blood rushes to your face and to your ears, and you ignore it by placing both your hands on his cheeks, whimpering softly at how good he tastes. Every burning feeling and sensation you’ve felt in his presence these past few months, and really, your entire life, all seem to explode in this moment. The world is blue, and white, and Xavier.

His lips move so gently against yours, once again acting as though you are fragile, but it feels good this time, the idea of being something so precious as to require care for him. His thumb rubs soft circles into your cheek, you can barely pull away from him to assure him that he can be more forceful if he wishes, more wanting, more greedy. 

“Please,” he whispers against your lips, asking for what you aren’t sure, but you nod your head regardless, because you’d think you’d give him your very soul if he were to ask.

When you do pull back, he is looking at you so longingly it makes you more breathless than even dancing you did earlier. His gray-blonde hair nearly conceals his eyes, so you brush it from his face, breath hitching at his proximity. You’ve always known that he’s the apple of everyone’s eye, but you’ve never had the privilege to admire him so closely before.

“I don’t need a fortuneteller to tell me who my partner is.” Xavier rests his forehead on yours, eyes closing. “Whether it’s for sparring, or marriage, or anything else. You are the only one I want with me, through everything.”

You’re surprised you can even muster words when you shyly respond, “Likewise, my liege.”

His eyes shine, and the two of you finally look up to admire the fireworks bursting across the sky in incredible explosions of color. They pale in comparison to the eruption within you, but they are magical nonetheless, and you lean your head against his shoulder to watch.

A gentle kiss is placed on top of your head. “I know we only celebrate this once a year. It is a special time. Still…” He meets your gaze again, and the corners of his lips turn upwards. Tonight, there is only you and him now, you’re sure of it. “Would you mind terribly if we were to ignore the fireworks?”

Maybe one day you will learn to resist him. You sincerely doubt it, though.

“Not at all. But the seamstress and her kids will probably be back soon.” You place a begrudging hand on his chest, not wanting to stop him, but trying to act proper regardless. “Neville checks on the garden every night. He might see us.”

Xavier seems to consider this for a second. 

“Oh well,” he mumbles, leaning in to kiss you again, “what a shame.”

He doesn’t sound very sorry at all, and amidst the soft glow of moonlight, you surrender to him, lost in your very own little celebration of lights.

a/n: if i had a nickel for everytime i’ve written a character x reader story where they’re at a party and they dance together but then leave to have a nice moment by themselves i’d have two nickels, which isn’t a lot but it’s weird that it happened twice, right?

#love and deepspace #l&ds #love and deepspace xavier #xavier x reader #xavier x mc #xavier #lads #xavier fic #lads x reader #lads xavier #l&ds x reader #l&ds fic #xavier x you #xavier x y/n #valkyrie stories

[calummss]

Do You Get Déjà Vu | Thomas Shelby

masterlist

summary: thomas doesn’t come to pick up his daughter. you decide to take her home only to find a man of a table with a bullet in his chest and a lot of deja vu

pairing: fem! reader x thomas shelby

words: 1.6k

a/n: just fluff and comedy tbh… not my usual angst i promise also, this takes place in 1919 because season 1 tommy has my heart. helena is around 9/10 years :)

How you disliked summer. Sweat pearls dripping simply sitting and breathing. Delicate fabric sticking to you like a bee and its honey. It was simply too hot for a woman to be wearing layers of modest clothing but here you were, sitting in front of your desk; no countertop in sight, too many different documents sprawled across the surface, each waiting on your eyes and conscious to scan it and then evaluate whatever category it fell into.

‘Miss Verys?’ Katie’s voice pulled you out of your slump, yet your heart skipped a beat when you saw her come closer with an arm full of newer papers that acquired your attention.

‘Please tell me you are joking…’

‘I fear not, Miss,’ she pressed her lips together as she placed them onto the right corner, the surface area with less than ten documents. ‘But these are all for the week.’ She smiled.

‘Finally some good fucking news,’ you huffed, ‘Sorry,’ you tilted your head when you realised Katie was taken aback by your choice of words.

‘Also I don’t wish to add more to your plate but Helena is still present. It seems Mr. Shelby has yet to pick her up. Do you want me to stay and wait with her?’

‘Katie you are truly an angel, really, I am so grateful but you are being paid to work on from eight to three, I couldn’t let you do that. Legally and from my heart.’ You curled your lips, fingers rubbing against the sheet of paper you were waiting to flip. ‘Just tell Helena to pack her things and to come to my office. Since I will be busy reading through all of these I might end up staying for quite a while.’

‘Of course. And thank you, Miss Verys, have a good day.’

‘You too.’

Katie left and you were stuck in front of an ocean of paper. If you had known that directing a school was so strenuous you might’ve thought about inaugurating a school twice. But it was a lovely institute. A school for girls with the most brightest and innovative minds, no runner up to men but competition with finest ideas.

Momentarily Helena came through the door and patiently stood at the door frame, her bag in her grip.

‘Hello Helena,’ you smiled at her. ‘Your father is not here yet?’

‘No.’

‘That’s okay, just wait here with me. I have much work and since we’re the only ones here I thought company would be nice, no? Sit,’ you pointed to the chair, Helena still standing at the entrance barely having moved.

Helena hummed in response.

‘So,’ you grabbed one of your quills to start signing documents that needed your signature. ‘What do you like to do when you’re not at school or doing homework? I am pretty sure you like horse riding?’

‘I do.’

‘Something else perhaps?’

‘Recently we bought a family car,’ Helena had sat down in the chair, laying her bag beside her as she relaxed into the seat. ‘When we got it we drove through the countryside…it was so thrilling. The wind on my face felt different to when I am riding. Daddy looked so happy too. I like cars.’

‘My my, what a riveting experience.’ You glanced at her from your work. ‘I remember my first time in a car. Felt exactly like how you described it.’

Helena beamed back you, her bright blue eyes gleaming with excitement, ‘My uncle Finn liked the car ride at first too but we had to stop because he got sick,’

‘And did you?’

‘No, I felt great. I love cars.’

‘I too think cars are the greatest innovation since the marvellous idea to roast and ferment cocoa beans to make chocolate.’ You let out a lighthearted laugh, infecting Helena with the same giggle.

‘I like chocolate.’

‘You do?’ Your lips curled. ‘Do you want one? I might have a bit stashed somewhere between all this energy-consuming work,’

‘I’ve only had it twice,’ Helena began another story, ‘It is very expensive and my father says it is bad for your teeth and that you mustn’t eat too much of it. He said that when he was visiting London he met a man outside of the sweet shop who became so round, simply for eating a lot of chocolate.’

‘Well best you have only one piece then,’ you put a piece into your mouth before giving her her piece. ‘This is my favourite. Got it from Cornwall. They make the best sweets.’

Taking the piece you handed her, she started eating it, her eyes in awe.

‘What about your father, Helena?’

‘What about him?’

‘What does he do for work?’ You asked, amusingly raising your eyebrows before taking the second heap of documents before you.

Helena hesitated. ‘I don’t think I can say.’

‘Why not?’

‘Family business…’

‘Family business?’ You looked up, Helena nodding her head in response. ‘I’m just curious that’s all. When you speak of him, you speak endearingly. You seem to have a very good relationship.’

‘We do.’ She ate the last bite, looking around the room. ‘If he wasn’t my father he would be my best friend.’

‘How sweet.’

With an easy lead conversation, time passed quicker than expected. But an hour later and Mr. Shelby still hadn’t come to pick up Helena.

With minutes passing you realised that Mr. Shelby wouldn’t show up anytime soon. It was also way past closing time so you had to start locking up the building. You thought it best to walk Helena home to see if anyone was there and if not you’d take her back to yours so she would have a safe place to stay until anyone got in touch.

‘Hello?’ You knocked against the door, the hard wooden door aching your knuckles as you repeatedly hit against it. ‘This is Miss Verys from Small Heath Institute for Girls. I have your daughter Helena with me as she has not been picked up yet.’ Your breath ricocheted off the door.

Seconds later you could hear the lock turning and were greeted by an older woman, her hair all over the place as her dark eyes burned into yours. Feeling as if she were about to take a jape at you, you quickly jumped back into your sentence. ‘I’m so sorry to intrude but I grew worried when Helena still hadn’t been picked up yet. I hope that all is well.’

Your eyes left her frame, seeing figures surrounding a table where there seemed to be a man laying down upon, quick huffs and puffs echoing from behind.

‘Arthur, shut up and just get this out of me.’

‘Drink this, Tommy. It’ll help with the pain.’

The unravelling scene before you had your full attention, completely forgetting the woman at the door.

‘I—oh no don’t do that!’ You raised your voice, pushing past her, now standing in the living room with three men staring at you. ‘I’m sorry to intrude but I was a nurse at the front and seeing you just stick your fingers inside his wound just rang my bells.’

The man on the table had blue eyes that protruded from the dim light within the room, his chest covered in dry and fresh blood, sweat dampening his skin and clothes. You overheard that his name was Thomas Shelby, Helena’s father.

You stepped closer and examined his wound. A bullet wound. Minimal surface damage and easily removed.

‘If someone could get me some bandages, an unopened bottle of alcohol and some tweezers with a bowl of warm water.’

‘I’ll get it.’ Helena walked past you to what seemed to be the kitchen.

‘The cheap one, Hallie,’ the light haired one yelled after her, his toothpick sitting between his lips. ‘If you open that rum from the Caribbean, I swear to you that I won’t give you any more sweets.’

‘You give her sweets?’ Thomas lifted his head.

‘Sometimes.’

‘Mr. Shelby if you could just relax for a short time longer. I will get that bullet out of you as swiftly as possible.’

Further taking in his naked chest you noticed his tattoo. Similar to sun rays just above his right chest. You had seen this tattoo before…

‘Mr. Shelby, can I ask you something?’

‘Yes.’

‘Do you perhaps have a scar on your lower back? On your right just above your glutes?’

‘How do you know that?’ He stared up at you, holding your gaze as Helena came back with the supplies you needed.

‘Given it was a back injury you were transported to the tent on your stomach,’ you grabbed the alcohol to clean the wound, a hiss escaping him as you grabbed the tweezers, ready to pull out the metal embedded in his flesh. ‘I was the nurse that treated you. I was covered in ugly drapes and bloods, can’t say you could recognise me,’

Thomas winced as the ends of the tweezers dug around to grab the piece of metal, a small smirk on his lips. ‘You don’t say eh?’

‘I’m sure you’ll be having a déjà vu when I pull it out,’ you grabbed it and pulled it out, a loud growl escaping his lips as air pushed past his lips.

‘Thank you again.’

‘No problem, Mr. Shelby.’ You disposed of the bullet in a dish Arthur held out to you. ‘Next time Helena is not picked up I’ll bring her home and bring my first aid kit with me.’

‘That’s actually not a bad idea,’ he pulled himself up, grabbing a cigarette and lighting it. ‘Small Heath is starting you feel like a battlefield,’

‘Then I’ll be your nurse ready to care you to health.’

#tommy shelby #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby imagines #tommy shelby blurbs #tommy shelby blurb #tommy shelby headcanon #tommy shelby headcanons #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy shelby fluff #tommy shelby angst #tommy shelby smut #tommy shelby x you #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x y/n #thomas shelby #thomas shelby imagine #thomas shelby imagines #thomas shelby blurbs #thomas shelby blurb #thomas shelby headcanons #thomas shelby headcanon #thomas shelby fanfic #thomas shelby fluff #thomas shelby smut #thomas shelby angst #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby x you #thomas shelby x y/n #peaky blinder imagine #peaky blinders

[moremaybank]

oh god. rafe dating someone who isn’t used to living a comfy life. and she’s probably not used to dining out so much or him cooking nice dinner (i see him being like an excellent cook tbh) and she’s like “i don’t deserve this”

rafe cooks you dinner one day. a steak, alongside mashed potatoes and an assortment of veggies. he pours you a glass of the finest wine money can buy and sets you up at the table in the back of tannyhill. your dinner is accompanied by the beautiful sunset painted in the sky, and the view of the water is gorgeous. he gifts you a diamond bracelet that includes a charm of the letter "r," silently letting everyone know that you're his. your eyes well up with tears and you look at him, an appreciative look on your face. "rafe, you...you didn't need to do all this. i don't deserve it. any of it." his hand grazes your cheek as he keeps your eyes on his. "baby, you deserve it all. and i'm gonna give it to you. there's nothing i won't do, nothing i won't give you. you're my princess and you deserve to be treated as such."

concepts

#₊‧°𐐪 daydreams 𐑂°‧₊ #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron blurb #rafe cameron brainrot #rafe cameron brain rot #rafe cameron fluff #rafe obx #rafe outer banks #obx #obx x reader #obx imagine #obx blurb #obx brain rot #obx brainrot #obx fluff #outer banks #outer banks x reader #outer banks imagine #outer banks blurb #outer banks brainrot #outer banks brain rot #outer banks fluff #drew starkey

[thatdeadaquarius]

That language SAGAU but the Reader can only communicate writing on paper.

Either the Reader is mute and they (characters) don't know/understand sign language or they somehow lost their voices on their transmigration to Teyvat and can only write now. But the characters are left trying to decipher what the Reader wrote.

Examples:

Kaeya: "I may say, that was very unexpected your grace. One such as yourself should be more aware of who you are."

Reader: "wat, y u sayin dat?"

×

Gorou: "Oh, your grace! Careful now. I am most certain that you stepped on something unsightly right now. Let me clean your feet, your grace."

Reader: "r u srs rn? Fml"

Ooooo, this is nice, this is niiccceeee /ref

this would be the energy⬇️

Man I love this show, I gotta finish it (it’s Komi Can’t Communicate for those who want to see it) where she basically is too shy/introverted to speak (non-verbal neurospicy it seems like to me actually lol) and really wants to make friends and do normal things despite not speaking, her main way of communicating is writing (and her first guy friend who can just read her facial/body language really well lmao)!!

☆

Sun: Gender Neutral Reader (they/them)

Planet: Headcanons-ish?

Stars: dashes/mention of most characters

Comets & Meteors: Content Warnings: Reader/”you” are mute/lost their voice, & Trigger Warnings: None Known.

☆

This kinda falls into that post I made abt texting lingo, abt us being nigh incomprehensible when using texting lang. (its basically a code lol)

but i think it’s always neat to see nonverbal rep so here we are (also i think imma go ahead and say it is both selectively mute but also enforced by video game laws!)

u know a good explanation would be for this is actually abt how we technically are only allowed to freely communicate when we’re in chats,

so I could see that still being the only way we can commnicate in Teyvat (look am i little excited abt taking “video game world” a little too literally in every genshin AU ever- maybe.)

tbh i could see so many allogenes having to either learn to make room for you in convos and u also having to get wayyy more expressive in body language/facial expressions

tbh i think itd be pretty easy to get ur meaning, like in a battle or smth fast-paced where u couldnt write, like how Tinker Bell can?

if u dont know what i mean just search “tinkerbell scenes peter pan” on youtube and u can see ppl just having a full conversation with no words with her, which i think would deffo happen with ppl like Kaeya, Lisa, Lumine, Venti, Heizou, Ayato, Yae Miko, Thoma, Beidou and Itto surprisingly i could see it (ppl in the distance just think theyre all talking to themselves sometimes when ur not as visible hehe)

OMG they get u nice gifts for writing all the time, like the newest compact pens from Fontaine, the finest small, medium, and large notebooks from Inazuma,

like a little compact pocketbook so u can easily fit it in pockets!

u know Im absolutely sure you could literally start the texting appreviation trend in Tevyat like this-

like just so it’s easier to communicate with you, a lot of people are willing to adapt/take on abbreviations like “ttyl, gtg, wth, lol, lmao” even stuff like “etc”

lol u start a whole trend in the writing letters business, hehe silly medieval Teyvat is silly and medieval

yknow I think the quieter vision users would definitely find you to be peaceful to be around and easy to understand just with writing (also deffo most likely to adore the soft moments together of just ur pen scribbling and the sounds of nature or a cafe or something around them),

tbh i also think these ppl would be motivated to talk to you alone, or get you away to just talk the two of you for all the reasons above, like Xiao, Aether, Kazuha, Ayaka, Chongyun, Zhongli, Diluc, Sayu, Ei, Sucrose, Eula, Ganyu, Ningguang, Tighnari, Alhaitham omg he might literally be able to take his headphones off around u bc youd be in such quiet spaces all the time, and bc u dont talk he doesn’t have to worry abt u getting loud either lmao

…and then ofc, there’s the bitches that try and guess what ur writing ahead of timeeee 😭

bein all like, “Uh… you.. would like.. to go to… a restaurant… to get some- OH OH I got this one this time! Some pita pockets! …Oh. A drink. Right. Sorry, again.”

definitely Itto, Cyno, Heizou, Xingqiu, Fischl, Amber, Collei, Dehya, Wanderer, Childe, Venti, Keqing (she just used to being fast ok), Kaveh lmao

☆

I hope my reply was a little fun!! THANK U FOR SENDING THIS I LOVE THIS SM!! Man it’s so hard to make you feel my appreciation for this idea thru the damn screen

like how do i send a virtual hug

ANYWAY, if you or anybody else had an idea for celebrating 1000 followers lmk bc i am STRUGGLING with this same issue for that,

like how to make u guys feel my love 😩 ❤️‍🔥

☆

Safe travels ignihideous,

💀♒

♡the beloveds♡

@karmawonderss / @0rah-s / @randomnatics / @glxssynarvi / @nexylaza / @genshin-impacts-me / @wholesomey-artist / @thedevioussmirk / @the-dumber-scaramouche / @chocogi

#genshin impact #sagau #genshin sagau #genshin isekai #my asks #genshin impact sagau #gender neutral reader #genshin impact imagines #genshin x reader #sagau x reader #idk my tags help #also pls if u got follower celebrate things for me to do lmk #genshin imagines

[i-drop-level-one-loot]

Xyleth had me giggling n kicking my feet likeeee ok big man 😘 “trying to make me jealous little one?” GAJRLCIWOENDLS tbh the whole planet messing around w/ thembo reader was so peak,,, if it’s too much to ask could we hear more about them 🙇

Alright, dear Anon ❤️

I'm so sorry, I know you asked this a long time ago now (I've been so busy omfg), but I did just post a mini sexy drabble for my beefy boy and thembo Reader ❤️

But just for you, here's some extra seasoning ❤️ thank you for your patience ❤️

Even the most overt flirtations go right over (Reader's) head. Everything that Xyleth does is instantly chalked up to "cultural differences", and it is always a shock whenever someone explains to the barbarian that, no, this was not a platonic gesture.

Everyone in the village adores Xyleth's mate, and finds great humor in watching them lose their mind over simple concepts.

(Reader), returning to Xyleth's tent with their arms full of food: Everyone's so nice here! They all kept congratulating me on becoming your friend haha :)

Xyleth, bursting with love: Oh, what do you mean by that?

(Reader): Well, they all kept saying "Congratulations to our leader's mate"!

Xyleth, smiling: :)))))))

(Reader): ...What?

I feel like Xyleth would absolutely love children, although whether it be by gender or species differences, he would certainly propose adoption. Because for Xyleth, it wouldn't be the act of biological procreation, but raising the finest warriors of any species alongside his most favored warrior, (Reader) ❤️

Also, Xyleth and Thembo! Barbarian have the best relationship I think of any of my characters, because any controlling, weird behavior of Xyleth's is just completely misunderstood by (Reader), so there aren't many opportunities for (Reader) to feel fear or discomfort.

Xyleth, standing with a giant statue of (Reader) in the middle of the village: And for you, my mate, I've commissioned this piece to preserve your strength and beauty for all time~

(Reader), looking saddened: Are my delts really that small..?

Xyleth: I will behead the artist immediately.

(Reader), happy again: Nah, bro, you don't have to do that! That first means I have to work out harder! You wanna help me get these arms looking statue worthy?

Xyleth: I fucking love you.

#thank you for interacting with me #sorry it took so long #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere monster #mild yandere #monster boyfriend #thembo #gn reader #barbarian

[vividvivy]

Heya^^ could we get some romantic headcanons about kaiser, shidou and isagi having a artist/painter prodigy s/o?

Of course you can exclude anyone if it's too much! Anyways I hope you'll have a wonderful day or night and don't forget to hydrate^^

Notes: Hellooo! First request, I'm so happy oh my gosh. I had some trouble so I'll do the rest in separate parts, hope you don't mind!! 41°C here it's so hot omg. You stay safe and hydrated too!! Also sorry it's messy, I'm still trying to improve and I hope you'll like this! 😭

Pairing: Isagi Yoichi x Reader

Type: Headcanons

Genre: Fluff, Romance

Isagi Yoichi with an Art Prodigy S/O ♡︎

He leaves you for the damn ball.

JOKE.. I'M JOKING GUYS..

Would be the most understanding and considerate among the three. I'm not sure if Yoichi will actually understand, but he's still super supportive and would listen to you and assist you when you need any help or company.

Dates with him are so cozy and peaceful.

He'd stay in an art studio or any room at all and sketch and paint with you all day long. 

I think he'd be the type to try and draw you flowers or try to make you (+ him TOGETHER!!)

He'd be over the moon if you agreed to craft anything matching him. Something simple like paper rings, matching pins or brooches, and drawings of each other!!

Would put a drawing you made or a printed pic of you in his clear case.

His phone would be you-themed. Just you, him and your work.

Bonus: If you met as schoolmates or before Blue Lock, he'd try to make small silly doodles for you in class, and if you handed him any doodles, he'd sometimes cut them and place them in his ID case or hang them in his locker and use some of them as bookmarks.

Takes you shopping (would definitely randomly buy Art supplies that caught his eye and give them to you) or anywhere at all!!

His favourite place to stay would probably be in a café or restaurant that isn't too fancy, just somewhere with cute, homey vibes and a picturesque view.

He's TRYING to keep up with you when you invite him to paint together.. (Keyword: He's trying his best.) It definitely isn't the best thing out there but A for effort.

Tbh he always improves so quickly it's scary and makes you envious and proud sometimes..

If it bothers you and he notices, he'd act more clueless on purpose and would let you just guide him??

HAS A SEPARATE SKETCH BOOK WHERE HE KEEPS HIS DRAWINGS OF YOU!!

Made a little scrapbook dedicated to the 2 of u <3

He really REAAALLY admires you and your work.

In his eyes, you and your work are the best there are aside from soccer and being the best striker there is. He could stare at your papers and canvases hung up or scattered all day, admiring each stroke and line, even the finest ones, and looking at each shaded and highlighted area in awe.

His deep blue eyes shine so brightly when they meet your paintings and illustrations, yet no other sea of stars could replicate the shine seen in his gaze when completely in awe.  In awe of you.

When you're experiencing any artblocks or frustrations regarding it, he'd be your number one helper.

If it's a better environment and inspiration you need, he'd immediately try to take you places and show you works that you've made before for more inspo. Would try taking you to a soccer field or any open area outdoors too.

Barely knows what he's doing but he's got the spirit guys!!

During hard times, he'd be the first to go by your side and help you.

Would try to be the one to pull you out when all the stress and expectations swallow you whole (Again he's TRYING but all his attempts are most likely clumsy and slightly flawed..)

#blue lock #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #blue lock fluff #isagi yoichi #yoichi isagi #isagi x reader #isagi yoichi x reader #yoichi isagi x reader #blue lock headcanons

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

don't hold hands, m | myg

pairing(s): yoongi x reader

summary: You're fucking your ex-boyfriend's ex-best friend. You also now own a condo with him and owning this condo has made you house-poor. Yeah, it's not the usual love story and it's not going to be one. Not until you paint the walls black, that is.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; mostly conversations and feels tbh; minor smut (fem reader, marking / scratching, m-receiving oral, doggy, penetrative sex); non-idol!AU; guitarist!music producer!Yoongi x novelist!reader - fwb / roommates-to-lovers

just a story about two people who shouldn't fall in love falling in love, I have plenty of nasty smut so this is a different beat for ya lmao

--

“Is it fun being tortured?”

“Not really, no.”

It wasn’t fair to be this critical but, as long as you didn’t let these words travel outside this room, it was fine, right? At least, you kept telling yourself that. Delusion at its finest.

“It’s so stupid that people enjoy sticking their nose in drama that doesn’t involve them only because their lives are too boring to have any,” you sighed, tossing your phone across your desk, letting it skid into a pile of post-its covered in scrawled notes. “All because I deleted some photos.”

Notifications were now blocked.

“Some people mistake privilege with right.”

You glared at your phone even though the contents were the offender and not the device. Rolled your eyes, knowing you would be coming back to a shitstorm, but you couldn’t take it anymore. There had to be a limit. And the voice beside you had been telling you to put the damn thing down and stop deleting comments one by one, but the stubborn ram in you thought you could just headbutt through the bullshit.

And that imagery was gonna end there, thank you very much.

Your forehead found the palm of your hand and you sighed again, suddenly feeling the weight.

“I’m never doing that again.”

“You don’t have to.”

Minutes passed.

Silence never felt so serene.

Then it was cut through by steady, slow acoustic guitar, the notes drifting out from behind you. It almost made you feel more guilty. Almost. How fucked was that? You, sitting here right now, staring at nearly bare walls and a table covered in notes and your trusty laptop, almost feeling guilty for the guy that had backed out of the joint loan for this condo in the city that you didn’t even fuckin’ want, but you had been too far into the process to not lose a whole lotta money and too angry to let yourself lose.

How ironic, feeling guilty for the guy who cheated on you.

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m not,” was the guitar player’s response. “And you shouldn’t be either. For anything.”

You knew you shouldn’t apologize. It just felt like the thing to do, because you hadn’t been wholly right either and, even if you weren’t more in the wrong, you were still wrong, and wasn’t that fucked, putting levels of blame on a situation that, at the end of the day, was all said and done and left everybody bitter and full of scars.

The shitty part was everyone was on your case now and blaming you.

This was what you got for dating the lead singer of a punk band that skyrocketed to popularity on social media. Looked all elegant dark romance on TikTok and Instagram, just screaming and hate-fucking behind closed doors. Constant content to cover up the toxicity. And maybe it was your fault too, letting it get to your head that maybe you really were the beautiful, mysterious muse that the followers painted you out to be. You glossed over red flags – late nights, drugs and drinking, sleeping in rooms of girls that called themselves fans – all part of the industry. Nothing happened. Honest. But the greatest mistake was letting him tag you on Instagram. How cool was it that you were an author?

This bastard.

Not only had you given him some of your best quotes for his lyrics, but now you couldn’t publish those words as your own because this bastard would fuckin’ sue you for plagiarizing.

The guitar continued behind you, on the mattress on the floor.

So, not only were you getting crucified on social media at the moment because he had called you a backhanded bitch in his Instagram stories but also because you had deleted all photos of him on your profile and said fucking nothing. Silence to be polite and all that. He cheated on you, he was leaving you for some whore you had plenty of suspicions about, and, worst of all, he waited until you and him were finalizing the down payment for this expensive-ass-fuck high-rise condo – that money was out of your own pocket, not his, how convenient – and backed out of the loan for the mortgage. His reasoning?

You cheated on him first.

Hello?

With his former guitarist.

Hello?

Your ex-boyfriend had fired his former guitarist ages ago because you and him had gotten too friendly.

Alright, man.

You liked the guy, sure. Talked to him when he was in the studio and found you had a lot in common. Plus, he was crazy talented. Made most of the melodies, self-produced a lot of the songs for the band so they could save money, even contributed to lyric writing so they didn’t have to spend on that either. He even had a good voice, although sadly the band rarely used it. Your art of words paired with his knowledge of music made some viral hits. But then tensions rose between him and your ex when they started butting heads for no reason (there was a reason and it was ugly jealousy). Then arguments rose between you and your ex, but instead of breaking up, you buried yourself into writing your next novel to let the situation cool off.

Sigh, okay, call a spade a spade.

You were avoiding the confrontation.

He fired his guitarist and got a new one.

Then things were good.

Until they weren’t.

Of course, they weren’t. You didn’t solve shit, and he was fucking every girl that threw themselves at him behind your back. Good thing you had strict rules about condoms, otherwise you would probably have some lasting consequences right now. So, when the ground cracked and split apart from under you, what did you do?

Yup, this was the part that made you no better.

You found that former guitarist and fucked him.

Word travelled around. Word also travelled around that somehow you got someone to be part of that insane loan you got talked into. And, oh, shit, did things get messy once a certain someone knew who it was.

But here you were.

Feeling guilty.

You probably couldn’t publish for at least six months to a year because, harrowingly, your demographic was young adult – you had even relied on social media for self-marketing, fuck – and the half of a novel you had now had to be scrapped considering that so many of the quotes were now distressed in dark venues by the lips of an egomaniacal dick that you allowed into your pussy far too many times. Once was already too many.

Fuck.

You didn’t even want to live in the city.

It’ll be so much easier for me to get bigger opportunities. Don’t be a selfish bitch and only think about yourself.

You wanted to scream.

You wanted to throw your laptop into the wall and break it into smithereens, but you didn’t because this piece of technology was currently your only chance of making money. Fuck. Me. Always talking about himself like he was only important member of the band, even though it was the other guys who wrote most of the music and lyrics. No one sided with you, obviously. This was their job and technically not their romance. They were sympathetic but not empathetic to the point of jeopardizing their jobs. Obviously, you hadn’t signed any contracts for royalties or credit. This was supposed to be your soulmate.

Soulmates weren’t so generous to give you pennies.

You’re being greedy and self-important. Oh, so you’re only in the relationship for the money? I’ll give you money once we make it big. Once we get it all, I’ll buy you everything you want. But you gotta help me out now. We’re starving artists, ya know?

You should have asked your parents for monetary help, but you didn’t. Your pride didn’t want to hear the told-you-so speeches for dating a guy they didn’t choose for you. You also didn’t want the arranged marriage appointments back in your life either.

So.

Trapped in white walls, post-its of false starts, and impending doom.

Dramatic, but you were a writer.

“Come here and sit down with me.”

Some part of you didn’t want to face him. It was really dumb. He was your new roommate now. You were fucking him when you were too sad to avoid it, and it was pretty obvious he knew. You were living off his money. Sure, he only paid for half the rent but then food mysteriously appeared in the fridge, bathroom necessities were stocked when they were running low, cleaning supplies neatly sorted into the closet, and all that other shit. None of that wholesale stuff either, but the nicer things normal households could afford.

It wasn’t an exaggeration that you cried into the soap during your shower last night.

All because you finally acknowledged it wasn’t one of those shitty bars that made skin feel like plastic but actually fragrant lathering liquid that you could put on the dense, not-falling-apart-in-one-use loofah that you hadn’t bought. You would have been satisfied with cutting coupons and living on the dregs of the bare minimum, but someone cared enough to not let you do that, and you currently couldn’t do anything to contribute and probably couldn’t for a while.

And that made you feel undeserving.

Maybe you were only fucking him because that was all you could offer.

Pathetic.

The guitarist called your name softly.

Like a beaten dog, you got up and sat down beside Min Yoongi.

He continued to play a melody you didn’t know on his black acoustic guitar. He hadn’t moved in all his instruments and equipment yet. You had told him he could have the whole living room for his studio. He had asked if you were sure and you responded that you were sure that you weren’t going to have anybody over ever so, unless he wanted a living room space, you didn’t want one.

“Shit always happens, you know,” the deep voice reminded you.

“This happening was of my own doing and now I’ve ruined my own life,” you muttered, bitter over a boy and hating that you were bitter over a boy.

A small chuckle. “You have to admit you had help.”

Stupid boy.

“Can’t be helped. Humans are animals of regret.”

It stung to regret.

The guitar playing stopped and now you were met with silence.

Don’t cry.

But it was so tiring to be angry. So easy to be sad. So easy to think, my fault, for being swept up in what he was but not who he was, for believing that you knew what was best when clearly it wasn’t, for being spiteful on purpose. For avoiding looking at Yoongi in the face because you were too ashamed to acknowledge what was going on here.

For being too afraid to ask what he thought of it.

“I regretted not stealing you from him sooner. Thought you were too fuckable for that loser from the first day we met.”

A strange feeling.

Skin prickling, glancing the that pale hand of graceful, callused fingers simply resting on the neck of that guitar, not looking at Yoongi’s face even though you knew it quite well in profile.

“That’s one way to make me feel better,” you replied.

“I’m not trying to make you feel better. Just being honest,” he replied, tapping his fingertips on the wood. “You are ten times too talented and a hundred times too pretty for a guy like that.”

You twitched. “Are you shitting on my standards?”

“Back then? Yeah, I am.” A calm hum, setting aside his guitar and placing his elbows on his sweatpants-covered knees, charcoal gray and worn. “Pretty clear you went full desperado for a guy that didn’t deserve it. Also, he ain’t hot shit like he thinks he is.”

Ow and what the fuck. “Fuck off.”

You felt movement and tracked his hand raising, spinning a finger around his temple. A brief glance and the details sank in. Long, windswept black waves, light cream skin, pointed gaze directed forward and not at you, pensive slight frown of pink lips. You looked away again, past his loose white t-shirt and to your hands.

You used to be proud of them.

They used to be able to type prose like no other.

Now they were twisted in an oversized, olive-green sweatshirt that you picked up from the sale bin of the convenience store for dirt cheap and they didn’t write jack shit.

You also hated olive-green.

Nothing personal. It just wasn’t your color.

“You’re a psycho bitch to put up with him,” Yoongi commented.

He wasn’t wrong. “I’m a psycho bitch all the time.”

“Yeah, and I don’t date crazy.”

You thought you would feel insulted, but you were past the point of caring. Also, there was something about the way his calm voice said it. Like he knew what he was doing. Huh. That was a silly thing to think. Of course, Yoongi knew what he was doing. He did it. He let you in his studio when you tracked it down and camped out until he showed up. He had listened to your psychobabble and didn’t back away when you pinned him to the wall.

This wasn’t dating.

“At least, I thought I didn’t,” Yoongi added, not touching you.

He fucked you too. He wasn’t a starfish in bed, that was for sure.

“I wanted to get back at him too, you know,” that deep, hazy voice murmured beside you. “That bastard turned my friends against me, stole my mixes, and cut out all my connections. Made me start from the ground up, alone.”

Yeah, you did know that. You helped badmouth Yoongi. In the name of love.

Shit.

“Sorry.”

“You’re not sorry.”

Ouch.

“And you shouldn’t be, ‘cause what’s done is done and being sorry isn’t going to change anything.”

You untwisted your hands from each other, realizing your knuckles were white from anxiousness, and relaxed them on your bare knees. Best you could, anyway.

“Yeah,” was the best response you had. This fucking boy ruined your life and stole your eloquence too, apparently. Motherfucker. “You’re right.”

Neither you or Yoongi said anything.

Minutes passed.

Another night in the condo and both of you were sitting on a mattress with a single blanket, deflated pillows, and a box of condoms on the floor.

You touched his forearm the same time his hand moved to grip your thigh.

And then it was the don’t-look-him-in-the-eyes challenge, and he was doing the exact same thing, eyes averted, black hair over them, lips grazing your jaw. Breath against your ear. Hot. His neck under your lips, flexed, fair skin with remnants of bruises, and your teeth sank in, making new ones, listening to his hiss and feeling his hands slide under your sweatshirt. Weighted palms and blunt nails. Digging in.

“Harder.”

He scratched you up as you climbed into his lap, tasting flesh.

Those firm hands gripped your hips and forced them down. Grinding. Softness to growing hardness, unhooking your bra, hands all over like you had lost your mind, your thighs squeezing his sides, yanking his shirt collar down and licking up his collarbone, dripping spit, shivering as you saw it glisten over his marred skin.

Clothes coming off, thrown aside. Guitar sliding to the hardwood floor as bodies tumbled. Your hands on his chest, your hard nipples pressed into the sheets as Yoongi slipped his hand into your hair and shoved your head down. Mouth open, tongue curling around. Moan striking the air, echoing in the nothingness.

Hard, hot, now wet.

Up, down, hitting the back of your throat, unable to choke in the adrenaline of lust, in need, in desire for pain, rubbing your tongue all over as Yoongi face-fucked you hard and fast, thick cock swelling in your mouth, your lips grazing the swollen head and making him shudder, saliva slipping down your chin that was smacking into his balls.

Was it shameful that you were good at it?

Sex solved nothing but you sure had a lot of it as if it did.

A sharp gasp and salty cum filled your throat, drinking, swallowing with effort and the burning sensation of your locked jaw, maintaining the soft tightness. Tongue tracing the contours, keeping him hard, hearing the rip of a foil packet above your head.

You hadn’t even realized that Yoongi had let go of your hair, letting you lick him all over at your own pace.

“What position?” Yoongi panted, husky and breathless in the mostly empty bedroom.

Mattress, chair, desk, laptop. Oh, and guitar.

Bodies on the floor.

You didn’t say anything.

You just turned around and slid down, elbows on the bed, knees spread, ass up.

“Alright then.”

You bit your lower lip.

You almost turned your head, almost looked back, just to check, right, just to check he was okay with it, and then strong hands gripped your hips, lifting them, sliding in, condom on and stretching you out right away, his knees pushing your knees apart and forcing you to arch your back for the angle.

No chance to look back.

You gasped, gripping the sheets, blinded by pleasure and the fading resonance of pain.

Hard.

Deep.

You pushing back, deep not deep enough, hitting your preferred depth and letting your eyelids flutter, veins burning with the repeated ecstasy. One of your hands lifted and reached back, squeezing his hand on your hip, and the grip became tighter, fingertips digging in, smacking his hips into your ass, and your body threatened to throw him back, carnal power meeting his every thrust, clenching around his hard length, and you could hear Yoongi growl your name, low and deep and voracious.

Somehow, his name fell from your lips too.

Rough and sinful, no better than an animal.

His nails dug into your back and dragged down, burning lines into your skin.

Your head tipped back and you moaned, a clear, shameless sound that would become familiar to this ceiling. Pooling wildfire, tightening muscles, wasted nectar sticky between joined thighs, surge after shivering surge of orgasmic apex stinging your veins as you barely registered Yoongi’s shudder and blissful groan, feeling the pulse inside you made than hearing the sound.

The rush of blood roaring in your ears was far too loud for you to hear anything.

Your face felt hot, so hot.

Gripping the sheets, twisting them, pulling them off the edge of the bed.

This moment.

Very few things were as intense and exigent as an orgasm. Fleeting, but a violently memorable. Pure nothingness of soaring high. You chased it. Again. And again. And again, your fingers tangled in Yoongi’s dark hair, pulling it over his face but he didn’t look at you anyway, eyes closed and teeth trapping his lower lip, breath trapped in his chest, driving his hips into yours again and again.

You both kept going until the limits were reached.

The darkness willingly swallowed you up.

-

Min Yoongi always considered himself a rational person, which was precisely why he found himself entangled in the break-up between his former best friend and the only woman he ever considered committing a felony for.

Yeah.

He also didn’t believe in love at first sight.

She was still way too hot for that idiot though.

His eyes could communicate well enough with his dick. The short skirt and exposed thighs didn’t really help either. Still, Yoongi had let it be. Respect was keeping his distance despite racing heartbeat and keeping calm despite shaking hands. He got used to it once the late-night talks about music and wordplay became a regular thing. Sometimes they talked about general life and were surprised on how well they aligned. Still, she never spoke poorly about her then-boyfriend even though there was plenty to talk about.

Scorched earth was their sacred ground.

It was painful to witness.

Yoongi regretted valuing the friendship, mostly because it didn’t mean jack shit at the end of the day. He regretted believing in the elegant, age-old saying.

Bros before hoes.

Tch.

But mostly, Yoongi regretted pretending like nothing was wrong.

He would see the pain in her expression and not say anything. Watch her pack it all away and greet him with warmth that he didn’t deserve because he had a racing heart and shaking hands every time they met. He would watch his former best friend disappear into hotel rooms without explanation and Yoongi knew damn well it wasn’t right, but he kept his mouth shut because he was a coward, something he figured out later.

He could have washed his hands clean of that shitshow, but instead his hands had held her shaking shoulders and watched her struggle not to cry on that cold night.

Yoongi considered himself a rational person, but never a good one.

Too many ways to judge, and her lips had already connected with his as soon as his shoulder blades hit the wall. He didn’t stop it. Maybe it was bitterness. Vengeance. Hate.

No, it wasn’t any of that, actually.

He didn’t know exactly what but, in that moment, Yoongi knew that he would murder that asshole if he saw his former best friend’s face right then, ready to commit a felony all because those beautiful eyes couldn’t look at him, closing instead to blink back the tears that bastard didn’t deserve.

That meant something, all right.

He knew it could take a long time. He knew it would almost certainly be hopeless. He knew he would probably end up with a broken heart and broke as hell. He knew it was a bad idea and he knew it was going to tear him up, this spiral, but when he found himself looking up to the ceilings of these mostly empty rooms, this condo he now half-owed with the woman that was formerly his best friend’s girlfriend, and Yoongi found he didn’t know and he didn’t care what the future held.

She had trouble sleeping.

Less trouble after exhausting themselves.

He had trouble sleeping too, but that was because he was staring at the ceiling and wondering just how rational he really was. One hand behind his head, under the pillow. The other resting on the blanket, on the curve of her hip, feeling the steady hum of her breathing.

She never cried in front of him.

He knew she did cry, because he heard her in the bathroom sometimes. But never in front of him. Showed anger, yes, but never acted helpless even though it was perfectly reasonable to feel that way after everything that happened. Living on the least for his sake, even to the point of skipping meals and spending all her time trying to write, trying to get back to her livelihood, trying to get past all the false starts. Personally, Yoongi felt that she should give up for now and heal herself, but he also knew how it felt to feel stubborn and useless.

Hah.

It was weird, being so close and yet so far away.

He felt it most in the nighttime, even though that was when he was closest to her.

He was never going to be the same. He knew that. He already wasn’t, surprising himself with his own recklessness, and for what? He didn’t even know what she was capable of reciprocating after receiving all those scars. Didn’t even know if he was the right one, if he was better or worse, if…

If he was believing in something that wasn’t there.

Yoongi closed his eyes and went to sleep.

-

Livid.

It was weird. Feeling it. In the past, you buried it, numb, and promptly lived in delusion. But now you could feel it. What was more, you let yourself feel it. There wasn’t anything to stop you except for the occasional mental peanut gallery of you’re a bad person if you feel jealousy, but anger could overtake anything if you let it.

You stared at the scene before you, several meters away.

Seething.

It felt good.

Mostly because it was honest.

It surprised you. You hadn’t expected to feel anything. Sad, maybe. You had already been cheated on, so naturally you assumed the cycle would begin anew, just with less promises and in the gray area of uncertainty. But, no, instead of being distraught and delusional, you felt maddeningly, viciously, nearly on-the-edge of making a fist and dislocating Min Yoongi’s jaw from his skull because he was speaking to a female-presenting human at the entrance of the building that housed his and others’ music studios.

Did you lack context? Yes.

Would that get you arrested? Yeah, probably.

Would that probably not get your laid anymore and label you as an unhinged psychopath? Without a doubt.

But would it feel good?

Don’t know.

You had never punched someone before, although maybe you should have practiced on your ex-boyfriend. He was probably a more deserving candidate. In any case, you remained frozen in perplexation at your willingness for violence because you were pretty sure your… relations… with Yoongi were nothing more than a lonely bitch and a spiteful silver tongue executing revenge, so the amount of fucks you should give about Yoongi speaking to any human being – other than the obvious health and safety precautions – should be zero.

None.

Basket of fucks empty.

And yet.

Clearly wasn’t since you were mentally calculating the angle and force for jaw dislocation while having zero experience in doing so. In any sort of non-virtual manner, that is.

Hm.

Your hands were firmly in the pockets of your black cargo pants. The hip ones, although you had plenty of choice. You kept them there for the safety of passerby or, maybe deep down, yourself. This caused your jacket to fall open, the outlines of the sew-on patches and thick, bunched-up black denim crowding the space between your forearm and waist, your black cropped tank exposed to the chill evening air. You used to wear a plethora of band t-shirts, but, well, those were probably in a landfill or rotting in a secondhand shop.

You figured you would be cold. Unsurprisingly, the anger kept you warm.

Huh.

You thought about turning around and just straight up leaving, petty and picturesque of course, and then Yoongi seemed to sense your projected violence, looking up from the conversation. Dark waves over his cheeks, striking body line, backing away, hiding his eyes for a moment, not that you could see them that well from this distance. You twitched.

The girl reached out.

Yoongi simply bowed, out of reach, and pushed the glass door open.

Honestly, her role in this moment was so miniscule that you completely ignored whatever she did or possibly could have said to Yoongi’s retreating back. Sharpened gaze, and then he crossed the street with the crowd, walking past oblivious bystanders who may or may not become the harrowed audience of the next thirty seconds.

He stopped before you. Bomber jacket, white shirt, black track pants. Monochrome elegance.

You looked up at him, saying nothing.

Over one shoulder was his usual guitar bag that held said instrument and his yellow notepad sticking out of the pocket. He used it to jot down whatever came to him. You almost said something. Almost. Then you remembered that if this, this between you and Min Yoongi, if this was supposed to be nothing, then weren’t you supposed to do nothing but voice your casual annoyance for making you wait rather than, well.

Admit insecurity?

You looked away quickly.

No, it did not matter how reasonable it was, you didn’t like knowing that somehow you had been weakened by an ex-boyfriend, barely a man, no, a mere locust at best, so it was better to not say anything and accept that this was–

“Sorry, I got caught up with the staff about ending my lease.”

Compromised.

You didn’t look at him. “What?”

“Gonna end my lease this month and move my studio stuff to the condo. I can’t afford both.”

He had told you this already. It had been your idea. You already knew you were overreacting to a situation that you created in your head rather than reality. And, yet, the best your mind would allow was uh huh, a plausible explanation, sarcasm included.

“Ah. Right,” was your sharp, mildly frigid reply.

“I can’t read your mind.”

Do you intend to be exhausting?

Your mental peanut gallery was super annoying.

You breathed in. Cool, crisp air. The sound of cars and people bustling in and out of stores. You breathed in again. Did you really intend to be exhausting, irrational, and, worst of all, dishonest? Really, after all that had happened? After getting here, standing here, arriving to pick up Yoongi at his request to do the grocery shopping together?

You turned back to look right into black-brown, piercing orbs.

“I just realized that I have the ability to be jealous,” you exhaled, draining your lungs. “It’s unpleasant and not nearly as delightfully pivotal as the media makes it out to be.”

Something fluttered in those orbs.

Or maybe it was the wind catching his bangs, drifting black strands over his eyes shadowed by dark circles.

Yoongi half-smiled.

“Makes for good songwriting material though.”

There was an air of helplessness to his words. A tone you couldn’t define, except for the understanding, which left you both baffled and with a sense of guilt. There were emotions in that barely-there smirk on those familiar lips. Relief. Maybe a slight bit of shame. A shadow of guilt too. You realized people were glancing at you and him as they walked past, wondering why you both were at a standstill on the sidewalk. Yoongi seemed to not notice them or care.

You pulled your hands out of your pockets.

“Come on. We should go before it gets dark.”

Before you noticed it, your hand was rising.

You pulled it back, but not fast enough.

Yoongi’s free hand reached out and grasped around yours, strong fingers enclosing. Sliding up, calluses on your palm. Your hand lowered, slowly, your eyes moving in the opposite direction. Lips parting. His hand was colder than yours.

You stared at Yoongi.

He looked back, expression unreadable.

“I don’t hold hands,” you said, suddenly breathless.

You tightened your grip.

“Neither do I,” Yoongi replied, taking a step, on the cusp of walking past you, his hand around yours. “I simply just don’t like the idea of yours getting cold when I can do something about it.”

Previously, when you held hands, it was always with a purpose of showing public affection. The look-how-real-this-is-because-there-are-clear-witnesses show. Front row tickets nobody asked for. But this.

This.

You blinked hard and the sting was inside.

The sting of wasted time.

Your name in that raspy, soft voice. Familiar. You looked up, not saying anything and hoping the eye contact was enough. All Yoongi did was smile lightly and tug your hand.

“Let’s get take-out and shop tomorrow. We have plenty of time to eat healthier.”

-

“You can cry in front of me.”

Min Yoongi heard her breath hitch and still.

Seconds that felt like hours ticked by. It was the dead of night. Or maybe one could call it the time when honesty came to life, if the conditions were right. He knew this time well usually with a drink in his hand, but this time he was laying on his side with bruises of bites and carnal memories lingering on his fingertips.

“I wasn’t crying.”

Her voice was thick and strained from trying to keep it even. Her moment of jealousy had happened days ago. He had recognized it right away. Call it personal experience. He also recognized that she didn’t like to feel that way. It was obvious from her torn yet furious expression. It confirmed a lot of things for him. Still, she seemed pleased to help him move and set up his things in the bedroom. They found the living room to be a bit too echoey due to the large space so they switched the two, pulling the mattress to the living room and setting up his equipment in the center of what was formerly the bedroom.

He told her to paint the condo.

She had mentioned in passing that someday she would like to paint her entire living space black. Not this place, because he owned it too, and you probably think I’m crazy for wanting a dark space, huh, Yoongi? He asked her, why wait? No one lives forever. We’re just passing through.

She had given him a weird look.

We own this condo. Paint it.

There were cans of black paint waiting.

Yoongi had intended to go visit his family over the weekend. His parents and his brother who had recently been promoted to head chef at the classy restaurant he worked at. Someone in the family needed to have prestige. Well, that was his own personal feeling. Surprisingly at this point his parents had even up on telling him to get a higher-paying job. They told him to simply be happy.

And get married.

Yeah, about that.

He was still trying to get used to the music producer thing, for fuck’s sake.

“Are you afraid I won’t understand?” Yoongi let himself say, not turning around yet.

Sometimes, people didn’t want you to see them weak. He could understand that.

Call it personal experience.

A shuddering sigh. Deep breaths. Words bogged down, drained.

“I can only be so pathetic before I lose my mind recalling the past,” she mumbled. He felt her weight deepen on her side of the bed, as if she was trying to melt into the mattress. “I made things hard for myself. For you. It’s pointless to cry about it anyway. In the end, it only makes me look ungrateful.”

Yoongi thought about it.

“It’s true that you probably shouldn’t have involved me.”

He shifted, laying on his back now.

“But I’m not a good person either. I agreed, after all,” he murmured, his skin tingling with bruises and carnal memories. “Hm, to be honest, he was always a dick though, from high school till now. Always will be, I fear.”

“You’re easygoing enough not to be affected by his asshole behavior.”

“Not my job to change people. I leave that to parents and clueless fools.”

A pensive silence. Surprisingly not an irritated one. She seemed to accept it.

“Why did you become his friend?” she asked, staring at the ceiling with him.

“We just happened to like the same thing. Music.”

“I’m lucky you decided to become his friend.”

He didn’t say anything for a moment. Then, “I’m lucky that somehow he managed to bamboozle a hot and clever girl, two things he’s obviously not.”

She almost laughed. Almost.

“Who the fuck uses the word bamboozle?”

“You had to admit you were bamboozled, because you sure as hell weren’t dick-drunk.”

“Oh? You think you’re that good, huh?”

“No, I just know he’s that much worse.”

The faintest of chuckles.

“You… You get better every time,” she admitted. “I think I just caught you off guard the first time.”

“Firstly, I don’t like wasting time and, secondly, I had given up for a while before…” I met you. “Romance seemed like an expensive, worthless distraction when I could be using that time and money trying to push the band forward,” he pivoted, running a hand through his hair to push it out of his eyes. “Then that went to shit.”

“Sorry.”

Automatic.

He chuckled darkly. “I’m confident I got the better deal.”

A trembling pause.

“Why do you think that?”

He reached over and placed his palm on the top of her head, lacing his fingers in her hair. Messing it up.

“Tell me the truth. Was he good at sex?”

A burst of laughter. “Really? Alright. No, he wasn’t. He sucked. Thought he was a piston of a muscle car instead of a human being. Oh, and once he fell asleep on top of me.”

He cocked an eyebrow. Turned his head and forced hers to turn as well.

She was smiling.

Yoongi found his chest tight and breath shallow.

“And you didn’t leave him then… why?” he pressed.

She winced, albeit playfully. “I yelled at him. A lot. I don’t know, maybe he was tired.”

“Not an excuse.”

“I know, I know…” Sigh. “I… I didn’t want to believe I made the wrong choice.” Her eyes shifted, but her body was still turned to face his. “I… It made my entire family angry, dating him. Especially my parents. They would never forgive me and hold it over my head forever. I had to make it work. I thought, if only I worked hard enough…” Another heavy breath, squeezing her eyes tightly. “I know it was pride, but I wanted to prove to them and myself that I could do anything. Bad choices? Maybe. But they were mine. I don’t want my life decided by what is best for me. If I suffer for it, those are my consequences.”

Her eyes opened, but barely.

Yoongi kept his hand on her head, running his fingers through her hair.

“I… I feel like shit because now you’re stuck in my mistakes,” she breathed.

He liked to touch her hair. It felt comforting.

“You know what your problem is?”

She glared under lashes and dared him.

Undeterred, he continued. “You blame yourself for shit that hasn’t even happened.”

A disapproving frown. “Hah?”

He tapped her forehead. “You think it’ll bother me if you cry, but what truly bothers me is that you cry alone.” Pushed back the strands, and now he was closer, sharing breath. “You think I’m stuck in your mistakes. Mistakes don’t inherently have only negative consequences. They almost always exist in a gray area.”

“I... I know that,” she grumbled, face against his chest.

“I did say you were clever.”

A drifting, drowsy silence.

“I’m not clever,” she whispered to his skin, pulling her body closer. “I just like you.”

Yoongi felt himself losing to sleep.

“I’ve always liked you, since the moment I saw you,” he muttered into her hair, breathing in the familiar scent, so quietly that he wasn’t sure if he said it at all.

-

“Ah? Yes? Sorry about that. Oh, yes, uh, I’m painting. Everything. Yes, I’ll be sure the keep the windows open. Thank you.”

You closed the front door of the condo. Well. You had expected nervousness, but somehow the conversation between you and the downstairs neighbor had been very calm. Apparently, he worked from home and wasn’t expecting the loud crash of the ladder from your unit.

In your defense, you hadn’t expected it either.

Thankfully, you hadn’t been on the ladder, only trying to figure out how to set it up. It was one of those compact ones that saved space but required some innovative thinking to get the taller height you needed. One crash and a YouTube video later, the ladder was now secure, and then came the knock on the front door.

The thoughts flew by – I don’t belong here, I can’t do this alone, they’re going to scold me and I haven’t even done the upper half yet – but the guy just seemed curious and confused. Didn’t even comment on your awkward outfit of navy boys’ basketball shorts and ill-fitted gray sports bra. Both on super sale. You were still wearing your bra because of the incorrect size, so the gray blob was bordering on ugly-ass tank top.

Look.

Some people had clothing they didn’t care about to paint in and some people had to dive in sale bins because they left behind most of their wardrobe and, with the clothes, their bad memories.

That was the intent.

Things rarely go as intended.

For instance, you thought you were going to feel imposter syndrome for a neighbor knowing that you were painting your own goddamn walls. You turned away from the door after you locked it, frowning. That’s right. Like it or not, bad decisions and minus an ex-boyfriend later, these were your walls. You looked up, out the large, floor-to-ceiling living room windows, and saw the sunlight sparkle over the sprawling city, walls painted half-black and half white surrounding you, and you could say that you never wanted to be here, but.

It was a sick view.

We own this condo. Paint it.

Your muscles were sore from the repeated swiping motion of the paint roller, but there was still this inexplicable energy coursing through you.

“What if it doesn’t look good?” you had asked Yoongi.

He had shrugged. “Then we paint it again.”

“It’ll be dark.”

“Wow, really? I thought black was supposed to be bright and cheerful,” was the sarcastic quip. “Just believe you have good taste and paint the damn walls.”

This condo was an investment that made you poor.

That was the truth you needed to face.

You have good taste.

You scrunched your face slightly as you remembered Yoongi’s facial expression. Was he… praising you or himself? You squinted. This guy. Picked up the paint roller again and saturated it with ink black, making crispy crinkly sounds as you shuffled over the plastic. Good taste. Well, that was relative, wasn’t it? Everything was at the end of the day. You climbed onto the ladder and began the repetitive, monotone motion once more but at a higher elevation. You should have put your music back on. Your phone was on the plastic-covered mattress and you were not about to go back down until you finished this section or ran out of paint. This was going to be a long process, but you had several days and too much time as Yoongi had already left to visit his family.

Now you were alone with a lot of paint and mind-numbing fumes.

Shit, you should have opened the window.

You would have to paint a second coat anyway. Who cared if the first coat was shitty?

Sigh.

Climbing down and doing your due diligence before returning to your post.

You had forgotten once again to put your music back on. Hah. Well, that was fine; you had yourself. You didn’t mind being alone. Heh, sometimes it was better to be alone. You continued rolling away, hardworking in the consistent rhythm. Thinking about it now, this might have been the first time in a long time that you were okay with being alone. Before, you had felt guilty whenever you weren’t thinking about your relationship. Huh. Odd. Was it some kind of mental self-reassurance when you knew something was off? It was hard to tell, but possible.

Everything was off about that relationship. You just had too much pride to admit it.

You sighed, climbing back down to reload.

Wait a second. Was this why there was that wider step towards the top of the ladder? You poured some more paint in the tray and carried it up with you. Oh shit. Wow. Innovation. You coughed and went back to a different patch of wall. No one saw that. See, perks of being alone.

Well, you didn’t hate Yoongi being here.

You stopped painting.

You didn’t just think that.

You went back to painting. Shut up, nagging feeling. You furiously painted on, ignoring your soreness, telling that little voice in your head to shut up, because there were plenty of reasons not to think stuff like that. Firstly, you weren’t ready to think stuff like that. And what if it was only hopeful transference rather than genuine feeling? Asshole or not, your ex-boyfriend’s betrayal of trust was not something so easily overcome. It wasn’t fair to Yoongi either, pretending to like him if you weren’t sure.

You liked Yoongi before you broke up, too.

Wasn’t that fucked up?

You sighed and came back down, careful to scoot the ladder without spilling and causing a mess. Back up and at it. Of course, it was fucked up. And you knew it was, which might have been why you let it get that bad. Might? Was why you let it get that bad. Two hypocrites were meant for each other. You huffed, puffing your cheeks. It wasn’t enough to hold the ticking grenade; you had needed confirmation it was a, in fact, a bomb.

Maybe even hoping it would end you.

It didn’t.

For some reason, you thought Yoongi could see that in you.

Damn, he’s really living in your system, hm?

You frowned.

Your phone rang.

You almost jumped, startled at the sudden sound of an old song you used to enjoy. Back when you were a teenager, and the memories came back as you climbed down. A kid who just really liked rock’n’roll, and parents who did not, but that kid didn’t care, annoyingly setting it as her ringtone on her shitty flip phone. Couldn’t you be her again? Before you had time to ponder, you checked your hands for paint and picked up your phone, answering it.

“Hello?”

“Did you eat?”

You blinked, sitting down on the crinkly plastic upon hearing that deep, raspy voice. “Uh, no. I was gonna stop by the convenience store when the first coat was done.”

“No, you weren’t. You were gonna skip a meal,” Min Yoongi tutted. “Because you don’t want to be a nuisance and use the money I had left you.”

Damn. He knew you, all right.

“If I forget, I forget,” you grumbled.

“Yeah, yeah. Anyway, pick up the food order from the front desk when it comes. They told me about thirty minutes.”

“You don’t have to order food for me. I’m not a kid,” you hissed.

“It’s the pho spot you like and if I don’t put food in front of you, you won’t eat. You intend to do all that hard work without some fuel?” A pause. You made a disapproving noise. “And I know you’re not a kid. By the way, what’s your waist measurement?”

You remained a grump. “Why?”

“I’m here, so I’m going to buy you some clothes.”

“Don’t buy me clothes. Don’t spend money–”

“You need things,” Yoongi cut you off. “Unless you want to come with me? You don’t trust me?”

“That’s not it and you know it,” you snapped back. “It’s not worth–”

“Of course, it isn’t. It’s vain and silly and superficial. And I’m still going to buy you things, so tell me your waist measurement.”

“Yoongi, this is your hard-earned money,” you puffed out, exasperated.

“Yeah, and I make money to provide you with a good life because I think you are the most important person to me. So, do you want me to guess with my hands or are you going to meet me halfway?”

Dead silence.

He called your name, softly.

You told him in centimeters.

“Got it. Don’t forget to check the front desk in thirty minutes.”

-

“I love you.”

His hair was stuck to his face due to sweat. “What?”

“I said I love you,” she said, staring right at him, their chests shuddering from exertion.

Yoongi couldn’t believe it, but also he wasn’t surprised. The room still smelled faintly like paint. The windows still had no curtains or blinds. They were still fucking on the mattress in the center of the living room and he was holding the used condom when she said I love you.

The walls and ceiling were all black, covering them in darkness as the city below glimmered with light.

“I love you,” was his reply.

It startled him, the suddenness of his response. He knew he did. Of course, he did, and he turned away quickly, making his way to the kitchen and throwing away the condom, skin tingling, cheeks aflame, and he was startled by the feeling that remained. He hadn’t expected those words to come out of her mouth even though he was sure of his own feelings. Yoongi had resigned himself to not hear it from her lips. He also didn’t need to hear it to know that it was true.

He saw her head to the bathroom.

Time was funny sometimes.

Suddenly they were both staring at each other on the mattress, the usual ritual completed, and the moment suspended.

“You didn’t have to say it,” he finally said. “For my sake.”

“I didn’t.” Her hair curled over her shoulder, caressing her curves. “I said it for my sake.”

Blankets and pillows and questions.

“I wondered about the validity of it,” she admitted to him. “Been wrong before and all that. Might still be wrong. So, I said it just to see if I regretted it.”

“Ah.”

They stared into each other’s eyes.

“Do you?” he asked.

She shook her head. “No.”

He half-smiled. How very simple yet complicated. He understood. “All the paint fumes really got to your head, huh?”

She looked up at him and he realized with a start that she, too, was half-smiling.

He reached out, smoothing her hair.

“You have a pretty face, Yoongi,” she teased, eyes sparkling.

He raised an eyebrow.

“I thought it would be too cliché, you and me,” she continued and the tone was different now, softer and more serious. “I thought you would get tired.”

She meant, of me.

He had thought this was cliché too. Cliché didn’t mean worthless though. His hand fell, and rested over hers without a second thought. Warm and against the sheets. “If I felt that way, I would have stopped speaking to you long ago. You could take care of yourself too.” Not safely, but could. “Except for money.”

She smirked.

“So you’re saying I need a suga daddy.”

Yoongi twitched.

“Part of me wanted to sell the condo as soon as possible,” she went on, casually glossing over the comment. “But the realtor said it would be a bad idea. I wouldn’t have any buyers without a minimum of six months or a year. Too many superstitions. Part of me thought I should…”

She looked up to the ceiling.

It was a high-rise, after all.

“All the reasons to move here were his. More convenient, better opportunities, owning rather than renting for the investment… I believed in it, more than myself.”

He didn’t say anything. Couldn’t because all those things had benefitted him already. He didn’t only agree to move in help her out. He was still a working music producer. But she didn’t seem to be saying it to condone him.

“I didn’t really think this place was mine until I painted the walls.”

Yoongi thought he should at least confess this part. “That’s why I told you to paint them.”

A small laugh. “You don’t like it, huh?”

“Don’t you remember the walls of the old studio were dark gray? That was my doing. I always resented the last place I rented because they didn’t let me paint the walls.”

“Ah… He painted over the gray.”

“I bet he did.”

They had fallen to the bed now, side by side.

“I didn’t think this would work out,” she breathed.

“I thought it might,” he hummed.

“Why?”

“You’re hot and clever and I wanted you from the first day I saw you.”

A warm chuckle. “Just like that?”

“Well, you had to give me a chance. Couldn’t make the first move due to the circumstances.”

“It was a convoluted and confusing one.”

“Eh, life’s unfair.”

-

“Your husband already paid.”

Your what?

“What?”

The cashier waved you away. You shuffled back, dazed, seeing Min Yoongi emerge from the bathroom in the corner of the restaurant, tucking a bit of his long black hair behind his ears and finding you in front of him.

“The cashier just called you my husband,” you declared.

He shrugged.

“Surprise.”

You blinked at him.

Patrons chatted and laughed as if this was a normal day. The music was horrendous covers of cheesy 2000’s pop. It was very strange, but the pho was good and well-priced, which was why Yoongi and you came here often after his meetings with music companies. Popular talent was in high demand.

He ticked his head to your outfit. “I know you like this dress I bought you, but you’ve left your coat at the table.”

“Oh, shit.”

“You’ve been scatterbrained ever since you started writing again.”

“Shut up.”

--

masterpost

#yoongi x reader #yoongi x you #bts smut #yoongi smut #min yoongi x reader #min yoongi x you

[bunni-v1]

idk if this counts as a story idea but may I request Lillia x child human reader. It was during the fae and human war and you were his kid but got ripped away by the humans from the war and years later you reunite.

Stay safe pls!! <33

Lost and Found

TW: War Trauma!; Lilia does stalking again but only a little; You look like Lilia

Info: Lilia x Reader (familial); Angst with a happy(?) ending; Not cannon compliant; Not my finest piece my bad guys

🍓I LOVE writing Lilia. I started writing him for Cureé and I realized how silly he is. I was a bit lost on how to go about writing this since canonically Lilia didn’t know how to (or didn’t know he could) love until Malleus. But… tbh making shit up is what fanfic is for lol.

Fae can only be born through love. That was a fact that all Fairies knew. You could not produce a child unless there was mutual love. So, it was quite a surprise when General Lilia found himself stuck with a child who looked a little too much like him for it to be a coincidence.

He was not capable of love, at least… he didn’t think he was. He had no clue who could’ve mothered you — he had no idea who he loved, except the princess of course, but she did not love him back… Without your mother, what was he supposed to do? He was a General and he was in the midst of a war — how could he have time to raise a child?

He would’ve dropped you off on someone else’s doorstep, making you another unsuspecting person's responsibility. When he looked into your big red eyes, he knew he couldn't. You didn’t ask to be born just like he didn’t ask for you. Whether he liked it or not, you were his responsibility and he was just going to have to live with that fact.

So after drills and horrific blood-filled battles where he lost hundreds of soldiers, he would return home to you. 

You were old enough to be walking and talking, and boy did you walk and talk. You wandered around his small quarters and babbled on and on about things he couldn’t even begin to comprehend. It was annoying, at first. He was used to silence when he was alone — he treasured it. You did not.

Still, he put up with it because he didn’t have a choice. 

He would make you little meals — none of which looked all that… delectable, but you scarfed them down like they were the best things you’d ever had. Maybe they were.

Eventually, he began talking to you — about his troubles, about his day, about his workload. It didn’t matter, because you would sit there and listen attentively to everything he had to say and respond with the best sentence you could muster for your age.

He hated to admit it, but he came to care about you. He liked spending time with you after his long day, and worried about you while he was gone. Each milestone you crossed filled him with a sense of pride he’d never gotten on the battlefield. He adored each hair on your head, even when your little hands were tugging too hard on his own while you tried to practice braids.

He even began to teach you magic and loved how your face would light up when you got a spell right. 

The both of you would go for runs together in the forest, and your long black hair — so much like his — would flow in the wind.

When it would storm, you would cry until he wrapped you up in a blanket and held you tight in his arms.

He would’ve been happy with this little life he had with you. He could’ve lived his days out like this and been satisfied.

War tears families apart, though. War does not have favorites. War doesn’t discriminate.

He should’ve known better, he should’ve been more careful, he should’ve moved you as soon as he knew humans were in the area. He didn’t, though. He left you there and promised you that he would be right back. He promised you that he’d keep you safe.

He rarely failed his missions, but this one he had. He came back to his home ransacked and you gone. 

He searched for hours: Nothing.

He screamed your name until his throat was raw: Nothing.

He begged his men and friends to look: Nothing.

It was one of the few times in his life he cried. It was one of the only times that he could not stop. The little family portraits you’d made served as cold reminders of what he had lost. He could hardly handle looking at anything that belonged to you, so he locked it away in a little box and hadn’t opened it since.

That was centuries ago, and Lilia had long since moved on from his loss. He only hoped that the humans did not kill you — that they had enough humanity to let a child survive, even if you were his. That, maybe, you were still happy and alive out there.

He used what he learned from you to raise his boys — who were his pride and joy. Still, he missed you every time that Malleus would proudly show him a drawing of their little family. Or when Silver looked at him in excitement after finally perfecting a spell.

You would’ve loved your younger brothers, he was sure of it. If only you could be there to see what they’ve all achieved.

Still, they grew and time passed until eventually Malleus and Silver were both attending NRC. Lilia joined them — half to keep Malleus safe, half because it seemed like a fun idea. He had seen most things in his life, so there were few surprises left that could actually surprise him.

Seeing Malleus chatting with a near-carbon copy of himself, however, did quite the number on his old heart.

You were short — still taller than him, unfortunately — and had grown your hair out so you could put it up in a ponytail. Long like his used to be. Your red eyes seemed to sparkle in such a familiar way. His heart and his head couldn’t take the shock, so he slipped away before he could be spotted.

He continued to observe from a distance, trying to convince himself that he was wrong. That it could not be you after all these years. Everything proved him wrong. The way you talked, your mannerisms, and your love for art. Especially your keen eye.

When you cornered him in between classes was when he really knew it was you. You had a scowl on your face that could scare off any trained soldier. It was his scowl.

“Are you going to explain why you’ve been following me all this time, or am I gonna have to use force,” you said, just as he might’ve so many years ago.

He didn’t have much of a defense, so he improvised, “I like your art, watching you draw is interesting.”

“That's…” He was busted,  “a bit creepy… If you liked my art you could’ve just talked to me, I know I’m a little scary looking but I don’t bite.”

Thus began the ruse of art-loving Lilia. The two of you would meet up around campus and he would watch you sketch these elaborate drawings like it was nothing. He always knew you would be a talented artist. 

He got to know you again. Got to see what you liked, and what you didn’t like, and learned that you couldn’t taste — which explains why you ate his cooking so happily. He found out that you were saved by a loving human family who not only adopted you but did their best to let you learn about your origins. He knew you were loved in the way that you were meant to be — in the way he never would’ve been able to during that time. 

It helped heal his heart enough that he was able to go through that little box of your stuff that he had kept for so long. He had missed looking at the little drawing of you and him you’d given him for his birthday.

Truthfully, he thinks you forgot all about him, and he was okay with that. Less pain for you to suffer through. Then, one day, that changes.

The pair of you were in his room because he had this cool piece of architecture you were dying to sketch out in person. He had left the room for only a few moments, but when he came back you were focused on his desk, and he realized that he did not put things back into the box like he usually did the night prior. You were staring at one thing in particular, the picture you drew all those years ago.

“I apologize for the mess,” he sounded behind you, but you didn’t react. 

Instead, you picked up the little picture yourself to examine it closer. The silence as you observed the piece made Lilia’s skin crawl.

Finally, you turned to him with an awkward smile, “This is gonna sound crazy, 'cause we’re both college students, but… did you ever have kids — like, your own kids?”

Unsure of how to respond, he muttered, “Once.”

“Were they taken by humans,” you followed up.

“A long, long time ago.”

“This is probably a stretch, but, do you think that maybe you could be my dad…?”

He didn’t respond for a long moment, face going stiff as if he was once again that young soldier who found you crying on his doorstep after your mother abandoned you. You bit your lip nervously, unsure of what to do yourself when he was looking at you like that. 

“It was just a stupid question, I’m sorry,” he didn’t respond, “I’ll go. Sorry.”

As you began to walk out, his mind came back to him and he kicked into full gear, “Wait, no, I’m not upset. Please… sit, let’s talk.”

Talk you did. About him and his life. How you disappeared and how he searched for you for so long. Then about his boys, and how much he loved them and how badly he wished that he could tell all of you the truth. You cried as hard as you could, and he swaddled you up as best as possible and wrapped you up in his arms — like he always used to do. He cried too, the hardest he had in his entire life. Because you were safe, and because you were reunited with him.

At some point, you asked, “Did you miss me?”

He could only respond, “Every single day.”

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #x reader #bunni's treats 🧁 #lilia vanrouge x reader #lilia vanrouge

[lunavrse]

PURELY PLATONIC(?)

CHARLES LECLERC

summary : are yn and charles dating? are they just friends? who cares? well, twitter does. category : smau. note : disregard all times and dates, they don't matter. all spelling mistakes are intentional. this wasn't supposed to be my 1st fic posted but it is what it is.

INSTAGRAM

like by pierregasly, youruser, landonorris and 658 422 others.

charles_leclerc finally got to see ma crevette

View all 2 172 comments

youruser thought we'd agreed that you'd never call that in public ever again

charles_leclerc no, you said that, i was silent

user2 were you silent or were you silenced😭

youruser you're such a pain in my arse

charles_leclerc you love me really

youruser unfortunately

username67 SCREAMING CRYING THROWING UP SOBBING

user08 they're so friends to lovers coded

username12 SHE DIDN'T DISAGREE!!!

pierregasly didn't you see her 2 months ago? when you flew out to see her

charles_leclerc that was forever ago

pierregasly *cough*whipped*cough*

this comment was deleted by creator

user8 I SAW THAT, YOU CANT HIDE FROM ME

user92 HE FLEW OUT TO SEE HER😭😭

user5 did anyone see pierres deleted comment or was it just me?

user16 no, I saw it too

user7 me too!

landonorris relax bro, no one's taking her away from you

charles_leclerc I'd like to see someone try lol

user99 adding lol to the end of your sentence didn't make it less threatening 💀

user420 *joker voice* why so serious??

user111 LANDO, WHAT DO YOU MEAN BY THIS??? ANSWER ME PLS, I AM IN YOUR WALLS

lunavrse pls pretend the manips look good👍 also the last one is just a random picture bc I couldn't edit it the way I wanted

user25 what the fuck are you on about?

user72 what is bro yapping about?❗💀

user7 WHO LET BLUD COOK⁉️❓❗❗

user222 monaco's finest😋

user00 them in the 1st pic have my heart

user000 UGH,, HIS DIMPLES!!!!

mutualfriend she's serving and then there's you

user777 two pretty best friends🤭

user66 two besties😁

user33 yeah... besties...

user92 REUNITED AND IT FEELS SO GOOD...

user29 REUNITED CAUSE WE UNDERSTOOD

user929 i love this song

user127 I KNOW Y'ALL SEE THE "MY" INFRONT OF THE PETNAME

user24 WE LOVE TO SEE IT

user9 that's honestly so fucking cute I'm crying

user88 charles repping ferrari where ever he goes!!!

user237 suprised it's only the one tbh

user228 as he should!!!

user1616 THE WAY HES LOOKING AT HER😭😭😭

user090 face cards never declining ❗

user10 charlito te amo❤️ !!!

user47 never knew i needed this until now

user74 so real bro

user27 please back away from my wife, it's hard enough seeing her with another man and you have the audacity to rub it in my face😭

user123 two best friends in a room... they might kiss

user262 can we talk about how close they are??? like they just seem so touchy!!!

user751 no fr!!! you can't tell me they're not in love with one another

user12 see if he was touching me like this, you'd never see me again because I'd be deceased

user61 so real of you tbh

user767 pls they're so...

user50 im not allowed to see these, im unwell

user44 you look so cute !

TWITTER

MESSAGES

TWITTER

INSTAGRAM

landonorris has posted to their instagram story.

you replied to their story.

YOU DUMB BITCH DELETE THIS ⤷landonorris SORRY, IT WAS MEANT FOR MY CLOSE FRIENDS

you replied to their story.

DELETE THIS YOU CLOWN ⤷landonorris DONT YELL AT ME! I'LL DO IT NOW

you replied to their story.

is that charles and yn

lunavrse replied to their story.

this is the worst manip in this post<3 (editing note: it's actually not, it gets worse)

you replied to their story.

LANDO IS THAT CHARLES AND YN

you replied to their story.

Lando mate, they're gonna kill you

you replied to their story.

I KNEW IT, MY FAMILY SAID I WAS CRAZY AND THEY CAN KISS MY ASS

you replied to their story.

Carlos owes me €100, I knew it'd be you. can't wait to attend your funeral

this story has been deleted

TWITTER

INSTAGRAM

liked by charles_leclerc, pierregasly, landonorris and 712 273 others

youruser suprise but not really🎉

View all 7 252 comments

landonorris does this mean I get to live?

youruser you're funny.

landonorris what do you mean?!? please don't kill me

youruser see you soon x

charles_leclerc we look so good❤️

youruser the best baby❤️

user19 BABY SHHSHSHE

user91 IM SCREAMING, CANT BELIEVE I GET TO SEE THIS

pierregasly glad i don't have to suffer alone and the rest of the world gets to see how gross you guys are

charles_leclerc weren't you the one who sent me a voice note crying about how happy you were when i told you i finally asked her out ?

youruser aww, pierre, you cried???

pierregasly he's lying

charles_leclerc do you want me to send her the voice note?

user65 it's quiet, ain't no back talk🤭

user80 charles said, i've got receipts bitch💀💀

user71 THEY LOOK GOOD TOGETHER!!!

user22 idk who i want more

user505 me and who?

user005 me n u?

user505 lol no

user101 IMS O USED TO GIVING ANDN OW I GET TO RECEIVE 🥹

user41 PARENTS

user14 IKTR😌

user06 IM SO GLAD WE GOT (OFFICIAL) CONFIRMATION

user003 god, me when?

user79 i want both of 'em😋

user25 I need to know when this happened 😭

user87 same😭

#lunavrse writes(?)⋆ #charles leclerc x reader #f1 smau #f1 instagram au #charles leclerc instagram au #charles leclerc imagine #f1 x reader #f1 social media au #f1 imagine #cl16 x reader #f1 fic

[tteokdoroki]

𑊡˚+₊🍼✦ — pretty hands + katsuki bakugou.

૮ ͈>◡< ͈ა warnings — fluff, gn!reader, you paint his nails + some bakugou appreciation tbh.

every part of bakugou is pretty— it would take a fool not to notice how gorgeous he is.

with his lopsided grin and hooded ruby eyes, his golden skin that shimmers under golden hour. his rounded cheeks with sunspoted freckles so faint you might think the gods smudged them while creating him, not to mention the shape to his body— as if he was carved from the finest stone, made by those very same gods. your boyfriend is the epitome of perfect, you know that.

but his hands have always been your favourite part of him.

they’re burned, rough to the touch especially on his palms— callous when they cascade over the curve of your hips and the expanse of your skin. but katsuki’s hands are beautiful. warm when you hold them even though he thinks that they’re sweaty, gentle when he tilts your chin up to kiss you or guides you in public to make sure that you don’t get hurt.

katsuki’s hands…so capable of destroying are also able to mend your heart, touch your soul and make you feel alive. his hands work so hard to provide you with a life of comfort— you can’t help but love them and admire them as if they’re a work of art.

so when you bring his hands up to your lips to blow on the nail varnish you’ve done for him— you can’t help but let praise slip from between your lips. “you have pretty hands, kats,” you mumble quietly as you reach for the bottle of black polish you’d been using on him.

“hah? you’re just sayin’ that cause you did my nails all pretty,” the blonde smirks at you, looking up from his phone he’d been scrolling through with his free hand. “can you use the chrome powder on some? i like it when there’s a bit’a silver.” bakugou almost pouts like a puppy when be asks and you giggle while reaching for it— decorating his nails some more.

“not because i’ve done your nails, but because they’re loving—“ you take the phone from his grip and lace your fingers together— your chest bristling at the connection and the warmth of bakugou’s hand against yours. “they’re soft, they protect me and hold me so gently. i love your hands,” pausing, you lean over the mess of scattered nail polish bottles and chrome powders— steady hand between your boyfriend’s crossed legs. “i love you, katsuki bakugou.”

“oi! don’t smudge my nails.” bakugou grunts lowly in disapproval though he tilts his head upwards to close the gap between you both— meeting your anticipating lips halfway. the kiss is slow, thoughtful and loving, a physical manifestation of everything you feel for one another. “would hate to ruin all the hard work y’put into makin’ my hands look even prettier.”

you know that bakugou is teasing, but you can tell by the way he admires the patterns you’ve done on his nails; that he appreciates the compliments.

#bakugou x reader #bakugou x you #bakugou fluff #bakugou drabble #bakugou imagine #bakugo x reader #bakugo x you #bakugo fluff #bnha x reader #bnha fluff #mha fluff #mha x reader #✧ ₊˚੭ — writing #tteokdoroki #✧ ₊˚💭੭ — aali just posted

[rinhaler]

One Minute, It's a Beautiful Scene

CHAPTER SUMMARY : how has megumi managed to convince you to run away from the class and visit the local aquarium?

boyfriend!yuuji itadori x f!reader x bully!megumi fushiguro

WARNINGS : 18+, PG chapter tbh!

WORDS : 4.5k

notes : I PROMISED I'D POST THIS WEEK AND I DID

       LAST CHAPTER ┊ MASTERLIST ┊ NEXT CHAPTER

You observe Megumi as he fills in the last few areas of the bear page. He laughs when he puts his pen down. It’s ridiculous, but he likes it. Yours on the other hand doesn’t compare to the purple dolphin you had done previously. Megumi definitely has you beat this round in terms of colouring. He takes your book again, flipping through the pages for another page to colour in.

“The red elephant definitely wasn’t your finest work, O’Keeffe.” he tuts, focusing on which page he’d like to colour the most.

“I wish you wouldn’t call me that.” you tell him, pouting like a petulant child at the nickname. It is so loaded and filled with hate. But then again, so is the man who keeps using it against you. He huffs, annoyed, just because you’re telling him you don’t like it won’t change a thing. You’re O’Keeffe, to him. Megumi likes it. So Megumi won’t stop.

“Here, you do this one.” he tells you, pointing at a page filled with different types of flowers. It’s cute, and the big sunflower in the centre is calling your name.

It’ll pass the final hour to colour in again at the very least.

You can’t help but smile each time you look over at Megumi. The song ‘Pretend We’re Dead’ by L7 is playing full blast through his headphones whilst he's poking his tongue out in concentration as he colours in an a unicorn.

So angsty and still so cute.

He scoffs when he notices you staring, insisting that you shut up.

“I didn’t say anything!” you giggle.

“Alright, O’Keeffe, focus on your flowers.”

You sigh, looking down at the page. The way your stomach twists and spasms is all too familiar to how you’ve felt ever since you first met Megumi. Looking at the flowers now, despite them not being your own creations, is causing you nothing but pain and heartbreak. Flowers were your muse. They always made you smile, feel loved, feel happy.

But now all you feel is disdain.

His eyebrow quirks and he looks subtly over his shoulder as he watches you close your book without finishing your colouring. He pretends he isn’t interested in what you’re doing as you pack your book back inside of your tote bag and fold the tray table back to where it belongs. You place your felt tips onto his table, manoeuvring your body so you’re facing the window and looking at the sea in the distance.

You’re close.

It’s difficult forgetting who you’re dealing with. Megumi Fushiguro is like no one you’ve ever met. Although there is a familial resemblance to Naoya, both arrogant and nasty, he is so cold and uncaring.

Most normal people tend to ask what is wrong when you begin acting how you are right now. Yuuji would be begging you to share your woes with him.

But Megumi Fushiguro is not Yuuji.

He’ll never ask, although you want him to so badly. You want to scream at him, make him realise what he’s done to you. How he’s ruined something as beautiful and ordinary as flowers for you. And he still won’t stop calling you O’Keeffe! He won’t ask, your only choice is to tell him. But you know it won’t do any good.

He just doesn’t care. And you can’t make him.

“I need some fresh air and a smoke. Why are we even going to this hick town?” Megumi grunts, finishing colouring the unicorns horn in a pretty pastel blue. You scoff, and laugh, earning another infuriated grunt from him. “What?”

“It’s not a hick town, idiot. It’s a coastal town!” you inform him.

“Same thing. Nothing to do but look at the beach and morons walking their mutts.” he huffs.

“You’re always on, aren’t you?” you laugh. “You can turn the angsty teen act off once in a while. It’s okay to like things. You might even like the place, the sea breeze is good for you.” you explain. He shakes his head, resuming his colouring. “I didn’t know you smoke…” you sigh, repositioning yourself so that you’re facing him.

“Nosy.” he says.

Maybe he has a point. But you never thought you’d be comfortable enough with your bully to sit and talk with him like this. You shrug your shoulders in an attempt to appear as if you don’t care, but the look in his eye tells you that you aren’t a good enough actress to pull it off. “You’ve seen me with coke on my nose and you’re surprised I smoke?” he states. Your eyes widen in horror as you remember seeing his dusted nose in the bathroom that day.

“Oh, I—”

“Everything in moderation. I don’t smoke or do drugs often. Every now and then to remind me I’m alive. Or when I’m stressed, I guess.” he hums as he explains. “You ever do drugs?” he asks.

“Nosy.” you tease back. A smile creeps onto his face, shaking his head with a pout as he considers you. “There was this one time when I got spiked…”

“Alright, shut up.”

“Are you ever going to apologise for how you’ve treated me, Megumi? Do you know what you’ve done to me?” you wonder.

It’s hard to talk to him. He’s so fucking unusual and mystifying you can’t help but lose yourself in conversation with him and want to know every inch of his aching soul. That’s your inner empath talking. But there’s a frightened voice within you that can’t let you forget what he’s done to you. Every single thing he’s done and you keep throwing it up in the form of words each time you remember. He asked you a question, and you couldn’t help yourself but remind him of what he is.

He’s a bastard.

A bully.

A monster.

He covers his ears with his headphones for the umpteenth time, disregarding your words and your existence entirely.

Something is telling you that you won’t be hearing from him for the rest of the journey.

Somehow you managed to drift off whilst riding out the final hour of the ride. Megumi was happy with his unicorn colouring and admired it for a while as the vehicle slowed down so that it could park. The other students began to stand up and pick up their belongings so they could get outside sooner. Everyone seemed to be desperate for some fresh air.

The girls of your worst nightmares sauntered by you both. But the blonde couldn’t help but stop and look at the two of you. She sniggers, pulling the attention of the redhead to stare at you as well.

“Looking very cosy, Megumi.” she spits, a loathsome tone in her voice.

Megumi looks to his side, seeing you comfortably resting on his shoulder as you continue to nap. He doesn't want to wake you. But for some reason he let the girl’s comments get under his skin. He shrugs his shoulder, hoping it would be enough to wake you. You stir, but he notes you have no intention of opening your eyes.

“Get up.” he demands, using the full force of his hand to shove you away from him. The back of your head thumps against the window and your eyes shoot open. Your heart is racing at your unfamiliar surroundings, evidently forgetting where you are whilst you had been sleeping. “We’re here.”

“You didn’t have to shove me.” you tell him.

“I’m not your fucking pillow, O’Keeffe. I know princess is used to everyone doing whatever she wants, though, so I’ll let you off this once.” he tells you as he gathers his things. Before you can get out of your seat, he’s shoving his three coloured pages in your face and demanding you put them in your bag. He is a princess. A childish little bratty princess.

“Don’t you want to keep them?” you ask him waving them in your hand wondering if he’ll change his mind.

“No, put them in your book. They’re yours.”

He stands in the middle of the walkway, blocking everyone from getting ahead of him as he waits for you to get your things together and get off the bus. It makes you nervous, you can hear people complaining in the aisle about being held back and it’s your fault. Why won’t he just let them by? He looks unbothered, as always. His expression is telling you not to worry. But how could you not? He towers above you when you finally stand up and guides you out.

The salty air hits you like a brick through a window. You’ve never felt so alive. And you can tell by Megumi’s face he’s enjoying it too. He’s disgruntled when he hears your lecturer inform you that you’re five minutes away from an art gallery you’ll be spending some time at.

He wanted some time to stretch his legs and breathe in the air; it is a crushing blow to realise he’ll be trapped in a stuffy gallery immediately after getting off the coach. You all walk together in the direction of the art gallery nonetheless. But when you get outside, Megumi pulls you backwards and drags you away from the group so that you can hide around the corner.

“What are you—?”

He’s lighting his cigarette and leaning against the wall. His face instantly turns from tense to pure ecstasy. He snickers each time you look around, tense about being caught with him and not inside with your class. As if you aren’t adults. It’s like you’re scared about being caught smoking.

You are.

“Why are you so antsy? Here,” he speaks as he holds his cigarette out to you. Though you politely decline, he continues puffing away and tarring his lungs. “We aren’t teenagers y’know. We won’t get in trouble.”

“We’re meant to be with the group! You didn’t even tell anyone about—”

“Shut up.” he hisses, tossing his cigarette to the ground and stubbing it out with the bottom of his shoe. “C’mon then, princess, let’s get you inside before you blow a fucking fuse.” he moans as he storms ahead of you. Your legs work over time doing your best to keep up with his massive strides, still trailing behind him.

It turns out you were worried for nothing as you seamlessly re-join with the class. The two of you lingering in the back as your teacher explains what is going on. Apparently you have an hour to wander around and admire the work, and after that time you need to meet back up in the main room to listen to a speech from one of the curators here. Megumi rolls his eyes at that, immediately skulking off to the nearest elevator to hide on the top floor.

As much as you want to explore and admire all of the art, you know you’re easy pickings by yourself. The girls are eyeing you up like vultures the further away Megumi gets from you. You look between him and them a few times before rushing over to the elevator. He shakes his head in annoyance as he swallows liquid from an energy drink can he pulled out of his backpack.

“Little bloodsucker.” he mutters.

You ignore him, though, knowing it’s easier to listen to his insults than be involved with the girls downstairs. There isn’t much to look at when you step outside and onto the top floor. A few paintings and nothing more. Although there is a comfortable looking bench that Megumi soon makes himself at home on. You sit beside him twiddling your thumbs, unable to help feeling like you’re missing out on things.

“I’m not keeping you here, go look at the art.” he tells you.

“N-No…” you stutter, pulling your laptop out of your bag and searching the gallery up on the internet. “I’ll use my phones hotspot and… it’s fine. See, most of the paintings are on their website so—”

“It’s different in the flesh. You want to make some notes for your dissertation, right? Go look around.” he instructs.

“I don’t want to go. Those girls terrify me... They only leave me alone when you’re with me.”

“Well I’m here now. And there’s some paintings here, too. So go look at those.”

You suppose he has a point. There’s no one here but you and him. You tuck your laptop back inside of your bag and decide to look around.

He doesn’t take his eyes off you while you look at each painting and make page after page of in-depth notes. You’re smarter than he’s given you credit for. He hasn’t even thought about writing his dissertation. He feels a strange sensation in his chest each time you lean forwards and tuck your pen behind your ear as you study each individual brushstroke on the canvases.

He’s getting warmer, and he can’t stop smiling.

He tries to shake it away and drink more of his energy drink. He doesn’t want to think about it anymore. About you. Why is he thinking about the time you kissed at your parents manor house?

Fuck.

He gets up, abandoning you as he strides towards the elevator again. It’s hard for you to put your things away and catch up with him, but you do. Standing side by side as the elevator descends to the floor below.

“What’s wrong?” you ask.

“Nothing.”

He sticks close to you as you wander from painting to painting. He even shields you from the girls when he spots them getting a little close, not that you noticed, too captivated by the paintings. They’re all so homely and sweet. The type of painting you’d see in a grandparent’s home. Mostly beachscapes and sea life. You turn a corner, and Megumi whistles as he studies the painting in front of you both.

“Wow…” you huff.

“It’s... big.” he follows.

“And so detailed.” you add.

It’s another beachscape, but with a ton of attractions included in the image. Amusement parks, restaurants, you name it. You’re scribbling down notes furiously as you take in every inch of the beautiful painting. Megumi, meanwhile, is more interested in the floor to ceiling window overlooking the town and bathing the painting in natural light. He notices something in the distance that makes him squint in concentration. His vision begins to alternate between the painting and the window. He takes your breath away as he drags you towards the window so you can see what he’s looking at. You begin to copy him as you look between the painting and the window, seeing what he’s seeing.

“An aquarium!” you smile, excited by the prospect of going.

“Shall we go?” he asks. You shake your head.

“We can’t,” you tell him as you hoist your bag over your shoulder and begin to walk towards the elevator for the final time. “we have that speech thing in ten minutes.” you remind him. When the doors open and you blend in with the group, your lecturer stands proudly in front of everyone.

“Feel free to look around for another ten minutes before the wonderful curator tells us about the history of the town and how it influenced the art on display.” he announces.

You turn to see Megumi standing with raised eyebrows.

Do you really want to stick around and listen to that?

Both his facial expression and your internal monologue ask you that. When there’s an aquarium down the road? Absolutely fucking not. He tilts his head in the direction of the exit, and you both casually walk towards it hoping to not get caught. Once outside, you begin to sprint together down the streets.

“You’re a bad influence.” you tell Megumi as you slow down now that you’re safe enough to walk.

“You feelin’ alright princess? Didn’t think you had this in you.” he taunts.

“Let’s just go,” you demand as you overtake him in your speed walking, “I wanna see some fish!”

Megumi covers the cost of the admission fee, telling you that you have to pay for food. You remind him that you can’t be any later than 5pm or you’ll miss the coach home. He side eyes you as your phone lights up with a text. You reply with a cheesy smile on your face.

Why does he feel so fucking angry about it?

He feels even worse as you giggle with your reply.

“Who’s that? Yuuji?” he asks. Instantly cringing at his questioning. He shouldn’t have asked. He doesn’t care. Does he? Why did he ask?

“I haven’t heard anything from Yuuji since he left.” you sigh, wondering why he hasn’t made the effort to answer any of your messages yet. You hold your eyes shut as you try and dispel the negative thoughts from your mind. Smiling when your eyes open and excited to tell Megumi the truth. “It was your dad, actually.” you chuckle.

“Oh, yeah? You text with my dad?” he queries.

“Not really, he was asking how we’re doing and if you’re giving me any shit.” you explain.

“Gonna rat on me again?”

“No! I—”

“Ugh, you’re sick. You want to fuck each other so bad. It’s obvious.” Megumi pouts, walking away from you as he steps into the first room.

“I do not! I can’t speak for Toji and I wouldn’t blame him because, well, look at me.” you joke as you flaunt your body and your face sarcastically. “But I’m with Yuuji and I love him and I’m happy.” you speak a little louder than intended. He nods, but doesn’t speak. You think he’s more interested in the fish, which is fair.

You spend time in each room. Sometimes you stand together, and other times you stand apart. The rooms all link together, so you take your time exploring them all. From Amazonian fish to cold water ones. By the time you reach the warmer waters room you hear Megumi’s stomach begin to growl.

“There’s a café upstairs.” you tell him as you lead the way.

You point at the window while you wait for your orders to be brought to your table. It’s raining. His face scrunches in disbelief. It has been perfect sunshine all day. Barely a cloud in the sky and now it’s pouring down rain.

“I told you.” you remind him.

“Yeah, you did.”

You note the time on your phone, telling him that you should probably go back to your class soon. But he disagrees. You’ve got over an hour before the bus leaves and you still have a few rooms left to look at. You’re satisfied with your small plate of food but it’s clear that it has barely touched the sides for Megumi. Though he declines your offer to get him something else, he’s more intrigued by the prospect of looking at the sharks.

“Maybe we’ll see a purple dolphin.” he jokes.

He starts to think of all of the colouring you did together on the coach. And the flowers. Why didn’t you finish the flowers? They’re your thing. He calls you O’Keeffe for a reason. He picked that page specifically for you.

Were you just too tired?

“How’s your sketchbook doing? I bet you’ve got a garden growing by now.” he asks, distracting himself from annoying, niggling thoughts. You puff out air, unsatisfied with the question and your current predicament.

Flowers. Fucking flowers.

“I’ve fallen out of love with flowers...” you admit, earning a surprised expression from Megumi.

“Shame. What’s the reason?” he questions, oblivious.

“… You. Because of you, Megumi.”

He clears his throat, awkwardly. It’s not that he feels bad, he doesn’t, but it’s like a real look in the mirror. You aren’t joking with him like you had on the bus. You aren’t trying to get him in trouble with Toji. It’s earnest, it’s real.

You’ve stopped loving something that meant so much to you, because of him.

Painting flowers meant so much to you. It calmed you. Brought you joy, happiness, strength. And each time he harassed you, called you names, harmed you, destroyed that. It was like he personally ripped an individual petal from every single flower to exist.

You’ve lost love.

The world has lost its bloom.

He gets up, walking away from the table without a word. You’re never going to get a word out of him. You’ll never get an apology or an acknowledgement of what he’s done to you. What you’ve become because of him. That’s just something you need to come to terms with. You step out into the tropical waters display, a huge underwater tunnel showing you the sharks swimming over your head. The unpleasant conversation seems to melt away from you as you watch the sharks movements and rippling water above you.

The bright blue water illuminates both of you. Though you don’t pay attention to Megumi, he can’t stop staring at you. After torturing you for so long, he doesn’t think he’s seen you truly happy until today. You look like a totally different person to him with an earnest smile on your face.

“Aren’t they beautiful?” you query as you make eye contact with Megumi. He does nought but nod, looking above him at the sea life once again.

“Yeah.” he mutters, so quietly you can’t hear him. He watches you for a while as you take more pictures on your phone.

“Smile!” you tease, pointing your phone at him and catching him off guard. You manage to get one nice one, the rest you take are him covering his face. “Will you take one of me?” you wonder. He hesitates, but nods.

He takes a few as a shark swims behind you, handing your phone back to you to see if you’re satisfied.

“I think you’ve got a new muse.” Megumi informs you. You look deeply into the water, considering his words. Maybe he’s right. It can’t hurt to take some more pictures just in case.

“Come here.” you command him. He gets closer, but begins to retreat as you flip your camera to selfie mode. “Just one, stay still!”

He cracks a smile as you take a photo of yourselves together with the blinding blue water highlighting you both. You consider putting it on your story, but your stomach sinks at the prospect of Yuuji stumbling upon it. He watches you save the image and close out of it, keeping it for your own personal memories.

“Shall we get another coffee and then go?” you ask.

“There’s a gift shop over there.” he points. Your eyes widen. There is nothing more exciting than a gift shop. Regardless of how overpriced they can be.

“Okay. Coffee. Gift shop. Bus.”

“Sure.”

“How cute is this shark!” you smile as you practically shove the shark plush in Megumi’s face. “I want it but—”

“Sure. Hurry up and decide while I go piss.” he sighs as he leaves you alone in the gift shop.

You become incredibly tense after you put down the shark. It was as soft as a cloud, but as the time draws nearer to 5pm, your nerves get the better of you. Where the hell is he? You linger outside the bathrooms for a little while, despite the fact it’s making you feel like a criminal, but he doesn’t appear.

The time hits 5:29 and you can’t help but wonder if he is back to his old tricks. Did he go to the bus alone and leave you stranded here?

You look out of a nearby window, and spot him standing across the road. A cigarette between his fingers on one hand and his phone to his ear in the other. Even from this distance you can practically see a vein bulging in his forehead. He’s yelling, furiously. He tosses his cigarette aside and continues talking as he walks back into the aquarium.

At that moment, your heart sinks.

Right as he walks inside, you see your class’ coach drive behind him and out of town. Fuck. You run faster than you ever have before, sprinting down the stairs and out of the building. You didn’t see Megumi, but you pick your phone up and begin to dial your lecturer again and again.

No answer.

You run back inside; searching each and every room to find Megumi again. In hindsight, it would have been a great idea to finally ask for his number while you were on the coach. He’s nowhere in sight, and you worry you’ll never find him at this rate. Should you wait outside for him? Stay in one room and hope that he finds you?

You rush outside into the torrential rain, tears streaming from your face. You aren’t sad, you’re stressed. You’re scared. Where is he? What the hell are you going to do? You’ve been left here and you’re stuck! How could they do this? How could your school just leave you here and not even try to get in touch?

“What are you doing out here?” Megumi asks, yet another cigarette latched between his teeth.

“Did you do this on purpose?” you accuse him, a dangerous scowl on your face telling him you aren’t playing around.

“I was just—” you cut him off as he raises a bag he’s holding in his hand.

“You knew we had to be back at the pick up site for 5pm. Look at the time! It’s gone, we’re stranded! What the fuck are we going to do?” you rant and rave as he continues to smoke casually.

“I don’t want to be stuck here in this weather with you. I didn’t do it on purpose.”

“Who were you on the phone to?”

“What?”

“I saw you from the window. Arguing. Was it Toji? Were you telling him your latest plan to make my life hell? No one can save me while we’re here. Haven’t you fucked my life up enough?” you begin to cry harder as the stress sets your mind into overdrive. Why did this have to happen to you? Why is he doing this?

“It wasn’t Toji. It’s none of your fucking business who I talk to on the phone.”

“But—”

“Shut up. Stop crying. Let’s go inside and figure out what we’re going to do.”

You suppose he has a point. Crying won’t solve anything, and maybe you were a little rash in accusing him. Not everything is about you. That’s what you’re sure he’s telling himself in his mind. That you’re a spoilt princess and making something about you which, in reality, didn’t have anything to do with you. It’s just an unfortunate circumstance that you missed the bus home. You need to figure out how to fix this.

You need to find a way home.

© 2022 fuwushiguro | © 2024 rinhaler

#🦋 — luxe writes #megumi fushiguro #fushiguro megumi #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #megumi angst #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk smut #jjk fanfic #megumi x reader #megumi x you #megumi x y/n #fushiguro megumi angst #megumi fushiguro x reader #megumi fushiguro x you #tw bullying #yuji itadori #yuuji itadori #itadori yuuji #itadori yuji #yuji smut #yuuji smut #yuuji x reader #jjk x fem!reader #yuuji itadori x reader #yuuji x you #yuuji x y/n

[eternal-kosmo-ghoul]

AS MY TREAT I WANT THE MOST SILLY, GOOFY AAA HCS OF THE PAPA'S.

Like idk Copia used to have to wear earplugs because Terzo snores so loudly it's literally obnoxious or something like that.

“aww my middle finger likes you”

❤︎ synopsis — this is pure bullshittery and crack in its finest form with the papas. they can be a little crazy at times

pairing: all papa emeritus’ x gn!reader (can be platonic or romantic)

theme: crack ✦ , fluff ✿ (if you squint)

a/n: this is a toast to my bestie for being an absolute chad. i was high making these, enjoy.

cw: terzo is a warning enough on his own. that’s it.

▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆

➵ papa primo

he’s the oldest so he constantly has to deal with the shit from his psychopathic brothers

like— primo is basically THE mom friend, except he’s the mom for moe, larry and curly over here

(moe, larry and curly being secondo, terzo and copia)

he constantly had to hold back secondo from beating the shit out of terzo because terzo made fun of him for being bald

“I’M GONNA RIP OFF YOUR WEAVE—“ “SECONDO NO—“

bro unironically listens to weezer

like full out busting down a just dance move to this music

you once caught him dancing to it, and he stood there frozen like the man emoji

he told you to never speak of it again and you just nodded, trying to plague your mind of that horrendous image

primo cannot cook for shit too btw

you were once out and asked him to make something before you got home to the ministry

the minute you walked in the door, the kitchen stove was on fire and all of primo’s ghouls were running around and screaming in infernal about the fire

meanwhile, primo stood there not knowing what to do, looking like the man emoji AGAIN

it’s basically his trademark at this point

“…. primo what the absolute fuck—“ “it wasn’t me i swear.”

while primo’s ghouls were still learning english, he once said “fuck you” to you in a very sarcastic way

but the ghouls thought it was how humans said “hello” in english

so they went around to the other siblings of sin, and sister imperator saying “fuck you” to them while leaving all those poor people offended and dumbfounded

you smacked the back of his head after that and forced him to apologize to his ghouls and to the siblings of sin (plus imperator of course)

and he gave the ghouls extra scritches too

primo also has the dad sneeze

like he can send another universe to the next tomorrow with his goofy ass sneeze

he once sneezed so loud he scared copia and caused him to bang his head on the wall

it was kinda funny tbh

anyways yeah note to self stay 10000 feet away from primo if he’s on the verge of sneezing

it’ll save your life

┅✦┅

➵ papa secondo

secondo has two moods

“oh my satan you’re all so stupid i literally hate you all” and “tee hee i’m a girly girl”

like ??? what’s this guy on???

this guy has the sass of a high school history teacher

like secondo’s being so deadass about whatever he’s saying but he’s always fucking saying it like—

“c’mon now, you literally have the style of a hairless roach 💅”

it confuses you a lot of the time, really

secondo has his moments where he’s sweet, but for the most part he’s pulling up the middle finger to everyone he sees

it’s a habit

someone could say hi to him in the nicest way possible and he’ll just grumble and flip them off

it’s not even that he’s trying to be mean, it’s a habit (a very bad habit)

you once got tired of it and smacked his hand, when he flipped you off. so it’s safe to say he no longer does it

at least to you

secondo is an absolute menace to his brothers

with primo he’s chill because he’s the eldest, but with the younger two he’s got no chill

definitely made copia cry at some point during his younger years

he later got his ass chewed out by you and primo, because no one makes copia cry

secondo’s literally so bossy it’s kinda funny

he’s always one flip flop away from smacking someone every time someone pisses him off

him and terzo are BEEFING all the time

and it’s over the stupidest shit too

“you’re stupid.” “well, you’re face is stupid” “you’re both stupid, end of the discussion.”

you once switched out all of his skull face paint for a pink barbie pallet

so secondo was walking around lookin’ like hello kitty emeritus and everyone was trying so hard not to laugh

even his ghouls were struggling too

“… secondo—“ “not. another. word.”

┅✦┅

➵ papa terzo

bro’s the fuckin’ definition of fruity

you thought secondo was girly pop?? wait ‘till you see terzo, he’s fucking extravagant

will literally show up in the grocery store lookin’ like a character ripped straight from criminal minds

like— he has to make a show EVERYWHERE he goes. he likes to stand out

terzo is also the type of man to wear skirts and dresses because he knows he’s hot shit and he devours every fit he puts together

he shows off that waist frfr

“… terzo what the fuck—“ “shut up you know i’m sexy and i’m going to show it.”

if you wear skirts or dresses he’ll definitely ask to borrow them

he definitely passed down his fruitiness to copia

and to his ghouls

he scams kids on adopt me and has a good laugh every time because he likes to see people get mad at him since he stole their hella expensive pet from them

primo told him to quit it because what kind of satanic pope scams poor little children on a roblox game?

as stylish as terzo is, he cannot do his hair and makeup to save his life

he’ll usually ask you to do it for him wherever he has to perform or do public events, which is why his face paint is simple compared to secondo and primo

it gives you two bonding time though and it’s cute

he once watched the pinkie pie smile hd video and was traumatized for a few days

like he straight up locked himself in his room and would not come out unless you convinced him to do so

during an after party after a concert ritual, he got so wasted and almost kissed omega

like you had to PRY this man off of the poor ghoul, while omega stood there unaffected (hehe tall buff demon boy)

terzo is the shortest emeritus and none of his brothers will let him live it down

ESPECIALLY copia, since he’s younger than him

terzo almost kicked him in the nuts because of that

but that definitely was a stab to his already massive ego

you reassured him that there’s nothing wrong with his height even though you found some of the jokes his brothers made funny

live laugh love terzo

┅✦┅

➵ papa copia

copia doesn’t know what he’s doing half of the time

like he’s just given a mic and he just wings a performance while the ghouls on stage are fucking around and going absolutely feral

out of all the papas, copia legitimately treats his ghouls like his own kids

he feels like he’s getting more grey hairs every time he has to stop swiss from fucking his own guitar, or sodo and phantom from fighting about cheese sticks

you sometimes help copia do ghoul-sitting and it’s just chaos. you’re literally their second parent

copia and you = parent duo for the era iv ghouls

he unironically owns a lot of funko pops

and he keeps the one of himself on a special pedestal in a glass case for safe keeping

though secondo almost once knocked over the case and he was three seconds away from smiting a bitch

you once were looking for copia because you wanted to ask him something and you found him in a ritual room

except the ritual was that he surrounded himself with a bunch of rat plushies and he was on his knees in front of a picture of a rat with a tiny crown

you were so confused, and he refuses to acknowledge what that was

“…. copia i—“ “you didn’t see anything.”

he fucking washes himself with dish soap and laundry detergent

this man is going around smelling like dawn dish soap and it’s so weird

it’s not that it even smells bad??? it just smells so interesting and strong you swear you’re in a fever dream

copia is an avid mitski fan

definitely cried his eyes out like a little bitch when he first listened to “the land is inhospitable and so are we” because he couldn’t get over how sad “my love mine all mine was”

radiates theater kid energy

but like— the kind of theater kid that is just passionate about theater and is very giddy when people ask about it

when he started his first meeting as papa he got so nervous that he straight up started the meeting with the word “mushroom”

like it’s so random ??? but it made the ghouls and you giggle so it somewhat worked out ??

copia is a little silly

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