#‘snap are you ego posting’ NEVER I JUST NOTICE THESE THINGS

[xxplastic-cubexx]

if you switch off mags after dying in a magneto mirror match in rivals i am judging you. btw.

[jeondesu]

ೀ⋆ 📚 THE PERFECT PAIR !

── ✧ ˚. ꒰ 𝓹airing ꒱ ˒˓ nerd!han jisung x popular!f!reader 𝓰enre/𝓽ags. college au, fluff, angst (kinda but not rlly), minor profanity, jisung is the cutiest pie ever oml 𝔀ords. 2.3k

[ 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆. ] — omg, i just realized i haven’t posted an actual written fic on here in FOREVER that’s crazy, we need to change that. but n e way, this is actually for @sta4, i’m so sorry this took a gazillion years (pls forgive me) and i rlly hope you liked it <3

“Be honest… do you think she noticed?” Jisung looked visibly in distress, his face drained of all color as if he’d just witnessed a paranormal sighting in his own dorm.

“Dude she definitely saw it, you blew it. Big time.” Jeongin states matter-of-factly, as if it were the end all be all.

Jisung slumped backwards, sinking into the mattress, dark brunette strands tumbled haphazardly over the pillow as he stared up at the ceiling. He’d been overthinking and analyzing every little detail for hours since that fleeting encounter you had with him in class this morning. He didn’t want to believe a word his friend was telling him, still latching onto a sliver of hope that you hadn’t took a peek at his laptop screen before he slammed it shut the second you walked up to him.

He grimaced at the thought of you taking note of his Goku wallpaper, everything happened so fast, he wasn’t given much time to react— though he’s almost 99% positive you hadn’t caught sight of it.

You approached him with a confident stride, your head held high, even adding a little wave which he barely registered as being directed towards him. He thought he was hallucinating from being so sleep deprived, staying up all night playing video games might’ve finally took a toll on him— but as he blinks again to snap out of his ‘dream’, you’re still standing right there.

Jisung was more than confused why you of all people would want to talk to him, praying by some miracle you couldn’t detect how much of a nervous wreck he was on the inside, forcing a stiff smile as he tried his best to play it off like he totally wasn’t losing his mind.

The strong scent of your perfume lingered in the air, making it even more of a struggle for him to breathe, let alone speak, but he couldn’t shake off the embarrassment. If you knew how much of a weeb he truly was, he’d probably never show his face around you or on campus ever again.

“Okay, maybe there’s a possibility she may have seen it, but only for a split second! Otherwise, I think I played it cool.” He recants, brushing off his friend’s lack of verbal support, “I was in the middle of an intense game of Tetris and she asked for my notes!”

Jeongin shrugs, “Okay, so..? That doesn’t suddenly make her interested in you.”

“Yeah it does, because she asked me specifically out of everyone else so that’s gotta mean something, right?” He reaffirms, the hopeful tone in his voice laced with sheer desperation.

Jeongin shifts slightly, leaning further into the comfort of his gaming chair, not even bothering to pause his game of League of Legends to entertain his friend’s delusions. He didn’t mean to crush Jisung’s ego with his cynicism but he had to be realistic.

“You sound like those giddy high school girls who just interacted with their crush for the first time.”

Well, he wasn’t lying, he surely did feel like one. Ever since you spoke to him earlier all he could think about was you— nothing else occupied his mind. He couldn’t concentrate on a single thing, couldn’t retain any of the information he read as he studied, or even play League which was his favorite game of all time. He was deeply, utterly infatuated and his thoughts were scattered all over the place.

Jisung sinks his teeth into his lower lip, swallowing an unnecessarily thick lump that’s been sitting in the back of his throat, “Look, all I’m saying is I don’t think I totally blew it. She even winked back at me when she left! She’s into me, I can feel it.”

Jeongin chuckles at his friend’s sudden newfound confidence but still remains unconvinced.

“We’ll see about that tomorrow when she ignores you and forgets that you even existed.”

+

The next day in class, Jisung is doing everything he can to try and maintain a nonchalant demeanor but it wasn’t working— at all. He’d completely thrown his ‘cool’ act out the window the minute he accidentally locked eyes with you, not even noticing how he’s been anxiously bouncing his leg underneath the desk.

He could’ve sworn you were an otherworldly being, he didn’t even feel adequate enough to be sitting in the same room as you.

You had sat a couple rows ahead of him, he preferred to always sit in the back along with Jeongin. He couldn’t help but stare, you were simply nothing short of perfect— lost in a trance as he watched you absentmindedly twirl the pencil you had borrowed from him along with his notes from the day before.

You had jotted down a few things in your spiral notebook, but it seemed as though you weren’t paying much attention to the lecture, copying most of your friend’s notes who sat beside you, every so often you’d be giggling at something she whispered to you— having been shushed by the professor more than once already.

Class went on as usual— it dragged on slower than it normally did, but maybe that was because Jisung kept zoning in and out. He didn’t take very many notes since he already knew most of the material like the back of his hand, but he still pretended to anyway, scribbling nonsense in the margins just to keep his hands busy, not even realizing that he’s wrote your name several times with hearts surrounding it, flipping the page immediately before Jeongin could notice what he’d been mindlessly up to.

Once class was officially over, everyone scrambled out of their seats to rush out of there as quickly as possible. Jeongin had one more class left that took place in ten minutes, bidding his goodbyes before he dashed out the classroom. Jisung slung his bag over his shoulder, getting ready to leave— until you appeared from seemingly out of nowhere, the sweet scent of your perfume infiltrating his senses once again.

Holding your notebooks flat against your chest, your delicate, freshly manicured hand tapped his arm lightly— just enough to get his attention. As if you didn’t already have it given to you on a silver platter.

He froze in place, still recovering from the shock of the events that unfolded from yesterday.

“Hey Jisung, I was wondering if-”

“Yes.” He blurts without hesitation before you could even finish your sentence, instantly regretting everything— oh how he wants to bash his head against the wall repeatedly at this very moment..

You could see the desperation seeping through his pores, but you don’t point it out. It was honestly kind of cute to you and you found it endearing how timid he’d act around you, a stark contrast from most of the frat boys you’d often interact with.

He attempts to save himself by quickly rephrasing his words, only to come off as more socially inept than he already is. “S-sorry.. it’s been a long day for me. Uh, what did you need..?”

You giggled softly, “I was wondering if you could help me with statistics? Unfortunately I’m not doing very well and can’t afford to flunk this semester, so I was hoping you could tutor me?” Your eyes beamed at him as if they held a million galaxies in them.

“Y-yeah, sure. I can help!” He awkwardly responds, adjusting his thick framed glasses by pushing them up with his index and middle finger.

A smile spreads across your face upon hearing that, “oh, awesome!” You weren’t expecting him to readily agree on the spot, but it worked out in your favor perfectly. “So, what days are you free?”

24/7. Every hour. Every minute. Every second. He would simply rearrange his whole life for you.

“Usually I’m free on Tuesdays or Thursdays, sometimes Wednesdays but it depends,” he answers, trying to sound as if he’s been asked this a million times before. “But.. if none of those days don’t work for you, I can work something else out.”

That was a total lie. There was nothing he needed to work out.

“Oh and weekends are kinda iffy for me,” he added.

Yet another lie. He was quite literally always free.

“Tuesdays and Thursdays works out perfectly for me, actually!” You take up his offer right away, “how does tomorrow after school at my place sound?”

You spoke so casually, completely unfazed, as if you weren’t actively flipping his entire world upside down. He simply nodded. Somehow managing not to freak out instead of dropping to his knees in front of you like some lovesick puppy.

“Cool! Wanna exchange numbers?” You calmly suggest while pulling out your phone from the back pocket of your jeans.

Jisung nervously gulped, his throat going dry yet again as he slowly feels himself about to have a mental breakdown.

You wanted his phone number?

Now he’ll really get the last laugh when he rubs it in Jeongin’s face that he’s got one of the prettiest and most popular girls at school’s number. You switch phones and he adds his contact information into yours to which you do the same for him.

Once you gave it back, his heart nearly leaps out of his chest when he sees the contact name you set in his phone: ‘y/n <3’

+

“C’mon y/n, we only have four more problems left.” Jisung is doing all he can to try and motivate you, pointing his finger at the next problem he urged you to solve but you groaned in response.

You invited him over to your dorm while your other roommate would be gone for a couple of hours, opting to study in your room rather than the common area. Your room was on the smaller scale, but still had a warm and cozy atmosphere to it. Movie posters and fairy lights lined the walls of your side, along with dozens of little random trinkets you’ve collected over the years as decoration, and succulent plants sat on the window sill. The vanilla candle you burned added a nice touch, it was calming, tranquil— exactly how Jisung imagined it to be.

“I can’t do this anymore..” you draw out a heavy sigh, looking at the equation as it were in a third language. Math has always been your Achilles heel, it was your least favorite subject and you barely passed by the skin of your teeth each time.

“My brain’s going to explode if I continue this for another minute,” you couldn’t even force yourself to power through, you were beyond over it. Yes, you were being a little overdramatic, but you got the point across— you needed a well deserved break.

His hand accidentally brushed up against yours to grab a colored pencil, “okay, if you really need a break then let’s take one and I’m sorry if I’m overwhelming you in any way. I’ll finish the problem for you and we can stop for a while.” He writes the rest of the equation down on the worksheet and turns to you to hand the colored pencil back, hoping that you don’t notice his flushed exterior.

You lean your arm against the desk, resting the side of your face inside your palm, “can’t believe this is my life now.. studying for my stupid stats exams instead of having fun with my friends.”

Jisung couldn’t help but take some pride in himself for that, sure you may be just using him as a personal tutor but at least he’s getting to spend one on one time with you.

“So you chose studying with me over hanging out with your friends?”

He still couldn’t believe he was even here, he almost had a heart attack when you texted him first that same day you asked to exchange numbers. He would spend minutes contemplating over every little word, every punctuation, and if he wasn’t sure how to respond, he’d simply send you some weird meme that he found while scrolling on Reddit. His phone used to be drier than a desert, but now he’s checking it every 5 seconds in case he gets a new message from you.

“Yeah, I mean I could always see them another time but I refuse to retake this class again over the summer,” you shrugged, “plus you seem pretty cool, I like hanging out with you.”

Was he hearing things correctly? Did one of the most popular girls on campus just say that she likes hanging out with him? He truly felt like he was dreaming— yeah, he had to be dreaming.

“I didn’t think you hung out with guys like me..”

Your brows furrowed, glancing over at him as if he’d just said the most absurd news you’ve ever heard. “And what makes you think that?”

“Uh- I dunno.” He stammered, his eyes darting across the room, looking everywhere but at you.

Curse him for being so damn awkward… and curse you for being the prettiest girl he’s ever laid eyes on.

You couldn’t help but giggle, “I actually think you’re really cute,” you confess, choosing a less subtle approach about expressing your feelings, “you’re nice and super smart too, which most guys aren’t.”

The two of you stayed in silence for what seemed like an eternity before he grew the ability to choke up a response, his ears burning the deepest shade of crimson, “Well.. thank you.”

“I mean it.” You solemnly replied, “Also, I think your Goku wallpaper is really cool.”

So you did notice it after all. But you didn’t care, you took interest in him because he was authentically himself, you liked him exactly for who he is— he’s never pretended to be something that he’s not.

Before you even gave him the opportunity to speak, you decide to lay it all out on the table. Harboring no regrets. “I like you a lot, Jisung.”

He paused, still trying to process everything that’s been thrown at him in a matter of seconds, but he could no longer deny the way he felt. The corners of his lips curled upward, his gummy smile making an eventual appearance, knowing exactly where this leads after he says those final words.

“I really like you too, y/n.”

it’s literally 3 am and i am SO SLEEPY, but i had to finish this for you guys <33 pls lmk if you liked this, likes/comments/reblogs are much appreciated tysm !! ( *ﾉ ▽ﾉ) ✧･ﾟ

[landoughnut]

Green Light, Red Flag

♡ masterlist - request

♡ pairing - max verstappen x fem!reader

♡ summary - max likes you, but it takes the strong feeling of jealousy to admit it

♡ warnings - jealous max, angry-ish love confession, fluff

♡ w/c & a/n - 1.1k | du du du du

"To Super Max!"

The cheer echoes through the private room of the Monaco nightclub as champagne flows freely. Another win, another celebration, and you can't help but smile as you watch Max try (and fail) to dodge the shower of bubbles from his teammates.

"Honestly, you'd think they'd be tired of spraying champagne after the podium," you mutter to your friend, Hannah, who's watching the chaos with amusement.

"Bold of you to assume they ever get tired of it," she laughs.

You've been part of the Red Bull team's PR department long enough to know she's right. Your eyes drift back to Max, who's now arguing with Checo about something, gesturing wildly with his hands the way he does when he's excited. His face is flushed from the champagne and victory, hair still messed up from his helmet, and you ignore the familiar flutter in your stomach when he catches your eye across the room.

"Oi!" He calls out, making his way over. "Why aren't you celebrating properly?"

You raise your barely-touched glass. "Some of us have to work tomorrow, Verstappen."

"Tomorrow's problem," he says, dropping into the seat next to you. His shoulder brushes yours, and you pretend not to notice. "Today we celebrate."

"You mean you celebrate. I just watch you lot make fools of yourselves."

He clutches his chest in mock offense. "I'm wounded. Here I am, trying to include you in my moment of glory—"

"Your fifteenth moment of glory this season," you correct.

"—and you're just standing here judging me." But he's grinning, that competitive spark in his eyes that you've come to know so well.

"Someone has to keep your ego in check."

"That's what I keep you around for," he says, and something in his tone makes you look at him sharply, but he's already being called away by Christian for photos.

You watch him go, trying to ignore Hannah's knowing look. "Don't start," you warn her.

"I didn't say anything!"

"You were thinking it very loudly."

The night progresses in a blur of music and laughter. You're in the middle of a conversation with GP when you feel someone tap your shoulder.

"Excuse me," says a voice you don't recognize. You turn to find a rather handsome man in an expensive suit. "I couldn't help but notice you from across the room. I'm James."

"Oh, um, hi," you manage, caught off guard by his forward approach.

"I'm with the Mercedes hospitality team," he continues smoothly. "Would you like to dance?"

Before you can respond, you feel a presence behind you – familiar, solid, radiating tension.

"She's busy," Max says flatly.

James raises an eyebrow. "I believe the lady can speak for herself?"

You turn to give Max an exasperated look, but the words die in your throat. You've seen every version of his competitive face – the focused pre-race stare, the triumphant victory grin, the frustrated post-DNF scowl. But this? This is new. His jaw is set, eyes dark with something that looks suspiciously like jealousy.

"Max," you say carefully, "I can handle this."

"Can you?" he snaps, then immediately looks like he regrets it.

James glances between you two, understanding dawning on his face. "Ah, I see. My apologies, I didn't realize—"

"There's nothing to realize," you say quickly, at the same time Max growls, "Yeah, you should apologize."

"I'm just going to..." James gestures vaguely and makes a tactical retreat that would make Toto proud.

You round on Max. "What the hell was that?"

"What was what?" He's doing that thing where he pretends to be completely oblivious, which might work on journalists but has never worked on you.

"That whole caveman routine! Since when do you care who I dance with?"

"I don't," he says, but he won't meet your eyes. "I just... don't trust that guy."

"Right, because clearly I can't make that judgment for myself?"

"That's not what I—" He runs a hand through his hair in frustration. "Can we not do this here?"

You glance around, suddenly aware that several people are trying very hard to pretend they're not watching this exchange. "Fine. Outside. Now."

The Monaco night air is cool against your skin as you step onto the club's terrace. The city glitters below, the same streets Max was racing through just hours ago. He's standing at the railing, knuckles white where he grips it.

"Max," you say softly, "what's really going on?"

He's quiet for so long you think he might not answer. Then: "I don't like seeing you with other guys."

Your heart stutters. "Why?"

"Because!" He turns to face you, and there's that intensity again, the one that makes him such a force on track. "Because every time some guy looks at you like that, I want to... I don't know. Put up a safety car or something."

A laugh bubbles up despite yourself. "Did you just make a racing analogy about your feelings?"

"Shut up," but there's a smile tugging at his lips. "I'm trying to be serious here."

"Sorry, sorry." You step closer. "Please, continue with your vehicular emotions."

He groans. "This is why I never said anything. You make everything into a joke."

"Says the king of deflection." You're close enough now to see the flecks of gold in his eyes. "But if you're being serious... I don't like seeing you with other people either."

His breath catches. "No?"

"No." You reach up to straighten his collar, letting your hand linger. "Kind of ruins my plans to eventually marry you and steal all your trophies."

The tension breaks as he laughs, real and warm, his hands finding your waist. "That's your master plan? Bit obvious, isn't it?"

"Well, I was going to be subtle about it, but then you had to go and get all jealous and dramatic—"

He cuts you off with a kiss, and oh – this is nothing like the Max the world sees. This is soft and sweet and just a little desperate, like he's been holding back for as long as you have. You melt into it, fingers curling into his shirt.

When you break apart, he rests his forehead against yours. "Just so we're clear," he murmurs, "this means you're not dancing with anyone else tonight."

"Possessive much?"

"You like it."

"Maybe." You steal another quick kiss. "But only because you're cute when you're jealous."

"I wasn't jealous," he protests automatically.

"Sure, and you also 'don't care' about breaking Seb's record."

He pinches your side playfully. "You're impossible."

"Yeah," you agree, sliding your arms around his neck. "But I'm your impossible."

His smile – soft and real and just for you – is better than any podium celebration. "Deal."

When you eventually return to the party, hand in hand, no one looks surprised. Checo hands Hannah what looks suspiciously like betting money, GP just rolls his eyes fondly, and Christian mutters something that sounds like "finally" into his drink.

Max doesn't leave your side for the rest of the night, and if he holds you a little closer when James walks past, well – you're not complaining. After all, some victories are worth celebrating more than others.

[decayedsword]

Drawing of Darkness (artist!reader x kc!ronin)

I LOST THE ASK BUT THIS IS FOR AURUM!! HOPING I DIDNT STRAY TOO FAR AWAY FROM UR ASK THIS TIME HEHEHEHE

(i thought id post this in the morning but hey! better late than never :P)

(/j IM SORRY LOL)

Warning for slight depictions of blood/gore, possible obsessive behavior

When you had clicked the ‘accept call’ option, you didn’t expect to be so enamoured by the devil, who peered in his swivel gaming chair, posters decorating the blood-red walls around him. 

You sat there, mouth slightly agape for a few beats, simply taking in the epitome of a painting of a thousand words that was stuck behind a web camera. This was the first time you had ever thought a grotesque serial killer known for fucking up the bodies beyond repair looked beautiful—and as sardonic as it were, he looked like an angel.

Atop his burgundy hair sat a striped gray beanie with two red horns standing tall on the fabric. Piercings adorned his ears, industrial on the left and double lobe on the right. His neck was decorated with a collar imbued with spikes, and a necklace with a sword charm that vaguely resembled a cross. He wore a soft black shirt with a skull graphic on the front, a leather jacket spilling from his elbows. You don’t fail to notice the varying pins he’s stuck onto his clothes to make them feel more like him, giving his clothes his signature edge, as well as the multitude of bracelets that peek out from his sleeve. 

“Aw, don’t tell me you’ve fallen for me already?” 

Ronin’s voice barely snaps you out of the trance he’s put you in. You’re in-and-out of your loops when you two talk over voice call, your eyes piercing into him, trying to capture his essence into the back of your mind. 

You bite your lip and curse yourself internally. There was no scrap paper lying around, and your sketchbook was laying on your bed. Deeming too suspicious to go and get it right now, you decide you’re better off trying to memorize what Ronin looks like. 

When, at last, he ends the video call, you scramble for a mechanical pencil and hit your bed with a loud thump. Your hand moves on its own, drawing quick strokes in an almost-obsessive manner. You draw Ronin with such precision that you can’t comprehend that you just met him 15 minutes ago.

His eyes, his hair, the way he holds himself tried and true, his pride, his ego, his esotericism—you’ve captured it all so perfectly, you’ve captured him so perfectly. 

You need more.

Days, weeks pass and you two talk more often, truths are told and dares are done, and you’ve never gotten a bad case of artist’s block since you’ve seen him. Ronin haunted your every thought. Your sketchbook couldn’t keep up with you, now half-filled with him, ranging from simple doodles to full-on full body drawings. 

It’s become a habit for your hand to move across the page, fleeting yet full with passion, as you watch him through his web camera. Your eyes dart between him and your sketchbook, subconsciously biting your lip whenever figuring out how to portray him in all his rottenness.

“Y’know darl’, if I hadn’t known any better, I’d say you’re a little too quiet right now.” Ronin mutters, eyes half-hooded with a smirk on his face. “Plannin’ my death, aren’t ya? In that little book’a yours?” 

His expression shifts. It’s dark and devious and you can tell he’s expecting a certain answer from you. 

“I’m just bringing you to life, Ronin.” You retort, a small smile on your face. It masks your emotions. He sees right through it.

You hear him chuckle, it’s short-lived, which is a good thing. You’ve surprised him with your answer, kept him on his toes for six months. In this dance with the devil, you two prowl on each other’s every move—every step, every turn and every dip—and if you’re obsessed with him, he returns the favor and adores you with his bleeding heart. 

You’re sure Ronin’s aware of how infatuated you are with him. It’s no secret, especially when he asks you about how your book’s going and he taunts you; rambling about how he’s hacked into your computer and read the copy you sent to your editor, and teases you when the main character’s a little too much like him, sinful and decaying, the devil incarnate.

Uptown has an alley they call Purgatory. Your heartbeat’s erratic in your chest as you turn the junction to enter the deserted lane. It smells heavily like iron, but you don’t shy away from it. The half-empty sketchbook rests under your arm, waiting for a butcher—the Butcher—to spill blood all over its pages.

“So, we meet!” Your head turns to find the voice, the very same voice you’ve been listening to for the past few months, bedeviling your dreams and tainting your pen. Ronin’s just—no, more—he’s more enchanting in real life than he could ever be over video call. 

Your heart stutters in your chest and you stumble over your words, and he laughs, he laughs. 

“D’aw. Devil got your tongue, darling?” he sneers, enclosing you against the stone wall. He’s heavenly, you think to yourself, clutching your sketchbook tighter in your arms. In all his omniscience, Ronin doesn’t miss it.

He whispers, it’s a song for the half-damned—for you. “What’cha got over there? ‘s it a gift, an offering, for me?”

You grit your teeth, and he knows he’s right. “Why did you invite me to the server?” You ask, diverting his attention elsewhere. There’s a need inside you to just observe him a little bit more. This meeting in Purgatory is beneficial, after all. If you got out of here alive, if you played by a serial killer’s rules, you’ve granted yourself Lucifer, deliciously tempting and in all his glory. You two waltz in each other’s palms, waiting to see who offers the forbidden fruit to the other first.

“I did it for you,” began Ronin, body relaxing, “You were starving, so I gave you insatiability.” His eyes are dark, darker than they could ever be. You’re lost in them, a sea of black, the constellation of the Crux in the night sky.

“You wanted inspiration, so I became your muse.” Your eyes follow his finger as Ronin gestures to your sketchbook. He knew. You knew he knew.

He shifts, bringing his face closer to yours, hiding you from the outside world, trapping you in his Garden of Eden. “You wanted love, darlin’, so I gave you love.” 

You don’t wait for him to finish. Your lips crash into his—wanting and wanton, reckless abandon—and he kisses you back, exactly how you wanted him to. The Devil delivered, and who are you to bite the hand that feeds your hunger?

When his hands ghost over the sketchbook, you let them. Gently, he pries it from your arms that had once kept your secret safe. You miss his kiss when he pulls away, but you’re intent on watching him, seeing his expression when he realizes that you two are woven from the same thread, built from the same stone—the similar atrocity of romance.

His back slides against the wall, hitting the ground with a grunt as he sits on the pavement. You do the same, scooching over so your sides are touching. He doesn’t protest when you rest your head on his shoulder.

Ronin flips through the pages. There’s no emotion in his face, a hand over his tightly closed mouth, but you can see it in his eyes, a mix of mutual understanding and complete ecstasy. 

On the page is a full-body drawing of him. Ronin sits on a throne of skulls and bones, his shadow forming devil horns and angel wings. There’s an inscription on the base of the pedestal, read “prince of darkness.”

The next page is a combination of doodles of him. Your hand against his face, cupping his cheeks. His lips kissing your knuckles. The muscles on his back. The look of love in his snark.

When Ronin reaches the current end of the book, he’s met with a twisted illustration. His jaw is open uncharacteristically wide as he holds a human heart above his mouth, ready to devour it. The blood drips all over his face, all over his tongue as he squeezes the organ in his hands. 

He bites his lower lip, running his teeth over it. A shit-eating grin is present on Ronin’s face as he huffs out a small laugh. “Are ya obsessed with me or somethin’?”

You laugh. It mimics his—deranged and sweet, a serial killer’s.

“Aren’t you?”

FINALLY GOT SOMETHING OUT AFTER LIKE A WEEK OF WRITERS BLOCK!! HOPE U GUYS ENJOY!!!

[literallythegrabber]

Could you rank the TBP boys about how who is the fastest to slowest to confess? Thanks for reading and writing : )

thanks for requesting! I'm aware that this post came in months ago, but I was swamped with school and sports, so sorry. enjoy!

Bruce

I think Bruce would be the quickest to confess due to his confidence.

His personality plus his general popularity with girls would definitely fuel his ego, so he wouldn't think too hard on confessing.

I think he generally just gets along with all people, no matter their personality, so if u were to be more stoic or quiet, it wouldn't stir him up when it comes to reading u.

He's good with social cues, so if u wanted a big, flashy confession with a lot of attention, he'd cook up something big. If ur more like me and would prefer something more private and intimate, then he'd take u to a secluded area and pronounce he feelings for u without being too cheesy.

Billy

I think Billy would confess next because I dont think he cares about rejection.

Like he would want you to say yes, and would obviously be disappointed if you said no, but he would get over it fairly quickly.

He'd probably write something sweet in a newspaper or something and deliver it to ur house, praying that ur parent/parents don't notice it.

Sorry if his seems lacking in a way. He just doesn't get enough screen time for me to get a good judge of his character, other than him being hilariously sassy.

Vance

I think Vance would kinda be in the middle.

I was gonna put him in second to last place, but then I thought about a bit more.

I feel like he'd confess to u so his life could return to normal.

Like, him realizing his feelings for u literally destroyed his world, and he thinks the only way his dangerously nice thoughts about u will cease if he either confesses or tries to scares u and his feelings away.

I think he'd try the latter first, and literally become a big evil monster towards u.

He'd snap at u for basically nothing, yell at u, be 10 times as mean, and genuinely go out of his way to be a total ass towards u.

If his crude behavior distances u from him after being verbally abused way tok much, he'd be happy at first, thinking that without u in his life, his thoughts would return to normal and he could finally focus on pinball.

But after a few weeks, he actually finds himself missing ur presence. So instead of apologizing like a normal person, he decides to confess his feelings right out of the blue! very clever vance😐

So if spots u alone at school, he'll just pull u over and confess in the most confusing, unromantic way possible.

He won't expect a romantic relationship right and away (and u shouldn't either), but this could be the beginning to a healthy friendship and perhaps something more in the future.

Robin

Robin would be second to last, probably because he doesn't want u getting involved with his never-ending beef with the majority of the kids at school (the bullies).

He thinks that if he starts a relationship, his opps will go after u to hurt him (he's probably right).

So, although he steers away from a romantic relationship, he tries to become close friends with u to intimidate other potential suitors.

He'd use bf like behavior with u while also trying to be ur friend, and it was honestly very confusing.

I just think the mixed signals he'd be sending would be too annoying and confusing, to the point where you'd just have to confront him.

So he'll stumble over his words, and just give off awkward teen vibes before he actually gets to his point.

If u reciprocate, then you'd have to agree to not being too flashy with ur new relationship and take things slow.

You'd also need to know how to throw a punch or sm cause those ugly school vultures are unpredictable.

Finney

suprise suprise Finney's last!

Given his shy personality, low self-esteem, and his experience with bullies, it's obvious it would take him a while to confess.

He'd watch u from afar for a while, so you'd def have to start up a conversation.

Yalls' relationship would very much be a slow burn, filled with awkward moments, hidden meanings behind simple words, subtle affectionate gestures, and a lot of teasing from Gwen.

He'd accidentally blurt it out one day, taking u completely by suprise.

He'll instantly try to dismiss it, rapidly trying to change the subject.

But if u press him, then you'll get a proper confession, and the rest is up to u!

thank u for reading!!

[aromacaque]

Ok on this skeet of yours bsky(.)app/profile/skulltrot(.)bsky(.)social/post/3ldgwt3e5ns2i can I ask you to elaborate on what you mean when you say that wukong "couldn't have known"?

yeah!! bluesky's character limit makes it hard to be detailed lol

Basically, from what we know in the present Macaque obviously resents Wukong for a lot of his past behavior. How reckless he was, his carelessness, his ego/hubris/selfishness, etc.

He also felt put down around Wukong. Inferior and inadequate. In Shadowplay he's always placing Wukong above him. The way he talks about himself is very negative, etc.

That wasn't something that came out of nowhere, in fact it seems to have always been present in his character (or at least, we as the audience do not see how that mentality came to develop).

Macaque's resentment toward Wukong's behavior has been present ever since the moment they have under the tree at the beach, which is chronologically the earliest moment/memory we see of those two. We watch throughout the flashbacks in season 4 and in A Lifetime of Past Mistakes how Wukong's neglect of Macaque's wants and anxieties eventually causes him to snap during their argument at the mountain.

But despite that resentment clearly always being there, one of Macaque's worst flaws back then was how complacent he was to Wukong (and to at least the rest of the brotherhood). He placed him at such a high pedestal and put so much of his faith and trust in him that he let it completely trump over his own autonomy and sense of self-agency. He didn't make choices for himself, not because Wukong was controlling (they do not make a point to show us this so I think it's safe to assume that was not the case here), but because he didn't let himself.

When he makes jabs at Wukong under the tree, Wukong does brush over them a bit, but he does explain himself and is completely honest about his motives and desires. So I don't know that I'd say he's not taking them seriously here as much as he's oblivious to the significance of Macaque saying this is.

Ultimately, and most importantly, when Wukong says this Macaque accepts his words and it does cheer him up. The subject is dropped.

He has an issue with Wukong leaving (what we can assume is somewhat frequent both with Macaque's behavior but also with context from jttw itself), but doesn't put his foot down about it. This behavior of Wukong's is self-proclaimed for their future together. A promise that one day it will end. It bothers him, but if it's not permanent then it's fine, probably, it's Wukong he's thinking about so of course it will be. They have the same priorities, afterall (safe home and eternity together).

When Macaque is anxious about going against the Jade Emperor, Wukong tells him they'll be together.

In this instance, Macaque does attempt to continue the conversation about his doubts and worries, but Wukong isn't a good listener and unintentionally ignores Macaque. Here, Macaque doesn't even try to get Wukong's attention back, he just accepts it and gives up.

And we know Wukong ignoring him isn't conscious because once the conversation dies down, he notices that Macaque shut down and immediately goes to comfort him and reassure him.

Macaque doesn't take this moment where he does have Wukong's attention to try restating his concerns. He just accepts Wukong's words.

So, all that being said, from Wukong's perspective, it seems like Macaque is more anxious/worried about Wukong being gone for long periods of time and going against bigger demons, but he's successfully making Macaque feel better about these things and therefore it isn't a huge problem. Macaque never puts his foot down or insists his feelings further once Wukong attempts to address them, so he has no way to actually be aware that they are far more significant to Macaque than he's making known.

Macaque is not being very direct with him about it.

But we the audience know that Macaque didn't ever really feel better about these things. His anxiety/worries don't stop. His agitation and feelings of inadequacy were actively growing. We're also watching these scenes with the knowledge of how their relationship ends, which only adds to that. Wukong does not have that context though.

With all that info, to me at least, it seems obvious that Wukong isn't entirely aware of Macaque's insecurities, which is eventually what leads to him snapping under the mountain.

To me, it's safe to assume with Wukong's reaction this is the first time Macaque has ever spoken up like this. It's deserved, Macaque is saying his piece, he's not wrong, but AWFUL timing on his behalf for this because Wukong is definitely not in a mental space to be hearing any of this after getting thrown in prison with a mountain on his back.

To him, Macaque's harsher comments, such as calling him an "obsessive-demon," something that clearly hurt his feelings...

...and his self-destructive and violent behavior probably felt like it came out of no where. 0 to 100. Not to mention having that all be so aggressively blown up in your face is probably very hurtful. We don't really know what happened after their fight under the mountain until their fight in jttw, so it's hard for me to actually talk about this from Wukong's perspective, but I'm gonna assume based on how he was acting during the little bit of it we saw during season 5 that Macaque was acting more or less how he does in season 1 but worse. Insults, degrading Wukong, etc. That's... a lot of ways for your best friend to start treating you when you hadn't been fully aware there was an issue. Especially if theirs a lack of desire to talk it out, which it seems like was the case during their fight. There might have been build up to that, but we don't know.

I'm sure now Wukong is much more self-aware and has the hindsight to understand what went wrong, at least to some amount. He obviously understands that Macaque felt abandoned by him and knows that saying "You always did have a sidekick kind of vibe," would get under his skin in season 3, implying some knowledge of his feelings of inadequacy. But all the way back then? He probably didn't!

That's not to say he's not responsible for hurting Macaque, it's just a communication blunder on Macaque's behalf that contributed to the already unstable foundations of their friendship. Another tragic thing thrown into their tragedy.

Speaking of, on Macaque's side there are things Wukong says in their fight under the mountain here that imply issues with his own feelings in regards to Macaque's behavior and I would kill for them to get into Wukong's perspective of their relationship a little more because so far the amount of information we have on Macaque's feelings greatly outweighs his.

I want to point out that it seems Macaque also becomes more aware of this with hindsight. I don't think it's a coincidence that after essentially reliving their fight after the mountain and hearing Wukong blow up at him for never coming to his rescue he spends the entire next season literally going out of his way to help Wukong whenever he reasonably can. That's kind of an entirely separate tangent though.

Overall, the point is...

He ignored Macaque, and Macaque let him.

Sooo, Wukong took him for granted, didn't listen or pay attention to him as much as he should have (because if he did, he might have noticed before it was too late), but because Macaque never put in the effort to assert himself and simply let Wukong guide them wherever. Allowed him to make choices for him. Wukong most likely didn't even know that those issues were present (or as prevalent/problematic).

He didn't know Macaque felt ignored. He didn't know Macaque felt pushed aside. He didn't know Macaque felt insecure and lesser. And to me personally, I feel like someone missing something like that with someone they care about is very unfortunate, but ultimately it is Macaque's fault for never making sure Wukong was aware of how he felt. Monkey King's got a lot of powers and reading minds is not one of them.

We don't know for sure how Wukong would have reacted back then if Macaque was more assertive and willing to be more of an opposing force than he was. Or simply more open and vulnerable. We can maybe assume Wukong would act like he did under the mountain considering how Macaque reacted to it like that kind of outburst was typical. But maybe it would've never gotten to that point in the first place if they both addressed it early on. Who knows.

[targaryenmarvel]

Fallin' All In You (Part 3) - Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Summary: You’ve known Wanda Maximoff since you were children. She was the shy and exceptionally beautiful twin sister of your best friend, Pietro. For the most part, you two never interacted, but that changes when against your better judgment, you begin to develop feelings for the girl. 

Warnings: Cursing

Note: It's a bit late, but here's part three! It was initially longer, but I didn't want to make you guys wait too long. I hope you enjoy it, and I'll post the next part as soon as I finish editing it. Also, credit to the creator of the GIF.

Word count: 4,377

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

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Voices echoed through the halls as students lounged around before classes. Some were engaged in lively conversations, while others scrolled through their phones. 

The air remained charged with energy and excitement from the previous day's win, as proved by the many praises you received from students and teachers. The elating compliments usually made you smile in glee, feeding into your ego. Yet, today, you could only muster a mediocre half-smile. Fatigue overran your body as a result of a sleepless night. Thoughts of Wanda had invaded your mind with no plan of ever leaving.

How could they when you nearly kissed the girl? You had spent the night overanalyzing the situation. Initially, you thought Wanda wanted to kiss you, but you were unsure after her speedy escape. God, you were an idiot. You had ruined any possibility of her ever liking you. She probably thought you were a creep. The fact that Wanda couldn't even look at you throughout the day attested to your thoughts. Even now, as you were seated with your friends, you could sense the uncomfortable tension that had taken over before she left your car. You just wished your friends wouldn't notice anything, especially Pietro. 

"We should do something today." It was Natasha who saved you from your agonizing thoughts.

"What do you have in mind?" Steve asked, slinging his arm over her shoulder.

"Let's go to the movie theatre," she glared at you, "and you can't find an excuse not to go this time."

"I wasn't going to third wheel you and Steve," you defend yourself with a pout, crossing your arms.

"You wouldn't have to third wheel if you accepted a date from the many guys and girls who have asked you out," Natasha refuted. Wanda, who seemed to have been tuning out the conversation, instantly looked at you, causing you to feel more self-conscious.

"Ahh, you never told me this," accused Pietro, looking at you like you had just run over his cat.

Steve leaned on his elbows and playfully whispered, "She's quite the heartbreaker."

"I am not!" You snapped, feeling the heat in your upper body increase by the second. The three are stifling laughs, amused by your embarrassment. Wanda simply looked curious. "I am not, okay. I've never gone out with anyone-" you looked pointedly at Natasha, "-and you know I wasn't interested in dating."

"Are you interested now?" She provoked. When you didn't answer, she continued tormenting you. "Common Y/N, there's gotta be someone you like."

You rested your head on your arms, trying to hide from their analyzing gaze. You wanted to deny it but couldn't find it in yourself to lie, especially in front of the girl of your affections. Moreover, if the girl felt anything akin to your feelings, such denial would probably make her feel relieved you didn't kiss. So instead of answering her, all you said was a muffled, "Shut up."

Later that day, the five, along with Pietro's date, met at the movie theater and, after a majority consensus, bought tickets to the new Conjuring movie. The two couples sat together, leaving you to sit next to Wanda. You didn't know if it was a good or bad thing. However, one thing was for sure: it would be difficult to focus on the movie when there was an apparent superior sight.

You really tried to concentrate on the movie; you swear you did, but you couldn't stop yourself from noticing Wanda's discomfort throughout the film. At first, you thought you were the problem, that your presence caused her state. Then, you noticed her ragged breathing and clenched fists, or how she would seal her eyes shut during the frightening scenes. 

Despite your qualms about your relationship with Wanda, you made a bold decision. Shielded by the darkness of the theater room, you dared to slide your hand over until your pinky touched hers. Wanda's already irregular breathing stopped at the action, and you expected her to move her hand in rejection. When she didn't, you summoned the last of your courage to entirely place your hand over hers, feeling Wanda's turn intertwining with your own. 

You struggled to contain the smile that threatened to bloom on your lips, but there was no controlling your racing heart and the swirling happiness that erupted in your stomach. You held hands for the remainder of the movie, and least to say, you paid even less attention, finding more comfort in the soft feel of her silk skin. 

You again offered to drive Wanda home, considering Pietro had to drive his date home. You reasoned that it would be awkward for Wanda to third-wheel her brother. Unlike the previous day, only the sound of the radio filled the atmosphere—neither of you daring to say a word of last night's occurrence or the hand holding. Feeling the increasing tension, Wanda finally decided to break the silence. 

"Have you started the book?" She asked, fiddling with her hands, keeping her eyes on the road. 

"No." You internally cursed yourself, having already forgotten about the reading. You had been too preoccupied with preparing for the game. "I need to check if they have it at the library."

"I figured you hadn't started." She giggled, and your heart skipped at the sound, "I can lend you my copy, don't worry."

You raised an eyebrow at her, "You're already done?"

"Mhm, besides, I've read it so many times I know it by memory." Once again, you pulled over in front of her home. "Wait here," Wanda instructed, hastily exiting the car. 

You assumed she didn't want a repeat of last night. Yet, not even two minutes later did Wanda return, walking to your side of the car. 

You lowered the window, taking the book from her outstretched hand. "Thanks."

"No problem. Though I am warning you, if I see so much as a scratch or bent page, I will kill you," she threatened, menacingly pointing her finger at you.

You scoffed and chuckled amusedly, "Wanda Maximoff threatening me over a book."

She shrugged nonchalantly and justified, "My books are my babies."

"Fair enough."

You expected her to bid you farewell, but she fidgeted in place, lips opening and closing before finally whispering, "Thank you- what you did in the theatre." Then, she quickly leaned in, kissed your cheek, and took off before you could react. 

You were left flabbergasted as your fingers brushed the burning imprint her lips had left on your skin, a sigh of delight leaving your lips. Wanda certainly had a way of spicing your nights. 

You returned home, Wanda's copy of 'Pride & Prejudice' in hand, still feeling giddy and dazed enough for your mother to notice.

"You okay, honey?" You hummed distractedly before biting your lip to contain a grin. Your mother recognized the lovesick expression you wore. "What's their name?" You furrowed your eyebrows at her question, and she clarified, "The person who has you love-struck."

You froze in place. Were you really that obvious? No matter, it wasn't a conversation you wanted to have with your mother. "I don't know what you're talking about, Mom. I'll be in my room." You could hear her laughter as you went up the stairs and into your bedroom. You stayed up until your eyes could no longer stay open reading, trying to distract yourself from Wanda. 

The next out-of-school opportunity you get to spend time with Wanda is Friday. One of your teammates was throwing a victory party while her parents were traveling. You weren't much for partying, but knowing Wanda would be there was motivation enough to assist. Knowing Pietro would probably drink, you decided to pick up the twins.

The three of you decided to find Steve and Natasha upon arriving. Once you did, Natasha offered you alcoholic beverages. You only took a sip of yours since you were the designated driver, and you had work early in the morning the next day—an easy weekend job at a flower shop. You noticed Wanda was also not keen on drinking, so you got sodas for the both of you. 

The five of you remained together until Pietro's girl arrived. Then, Natasha and Steve left, leaving you and Wanda alone. 

Finally, you took the opportunity to admire Wanda fully, from the black combat boots and ripped jeans to her signature red leather jacket covering yet another band teeshirt. Though you loved her outfit, your favorite part was her bright green eyes brought out by a sexy black eyeliner. You were a gay mess, to say the least. 

"You don't seem happy to be here," you commented, noticing her pout. Damn, she had such pretty lips.

"That's because I'm not. I'm only here because Pietro bribed me with new books. Now that I'm here, I realize it's not worth it, considering he left me alone," Wanda whined, playing with her rings.

"Alone? Am I that bad of a company?" You teased, enjoying the slight panic in her eyes before bursting out in laughter. "Don't worry, I won't leave you alone."

Wanda felt grateful for your company as she wasn't one to party, especially since her friends weren't there. Shuri, Peter, and the rest of the science club had left on a trip. Monica had planned on coming until she came down with the flu. It was funny how things changed between you two. How, years before, she would have panicked at the thought of being so close to you. Now, she could only feel her chest flutter with butterflies as you rant about your thoughts on Pride & Prejudice.

Not long after, Peggy Carter interrupted you both, wanting you to meet someone. You reluctantly agreed after Wanda said it was fine, and you promised to return quickly. Peggy led you into the kitchen, where a muscular boy your age stood with a red solo cup. She introduced him as Sam Wilson, her friend from another school, before leaving you two with a mischievous smile. 

"I think she's trying to set us up." Although you appreciated the noble gesture, now more than ever, you wished to return to Wanda. 

He nodded and said, "Look, you're beautiful, but I have my eye on someone else." His eyes looked over your shoulder, and you followed his eyesight and came upon James Barnes, Steve's best friend.

"Don't worry, I do too. You should go talk to him."

"We don't even know eachother." He lowered his head, avoiding your eyes.

"I can help with that." You took his hand and led him towards Bucky. "Hey, Bucky. I wanted to introduce you to my friend, Sam."

Bucky immediately smirked as he eyed Sam. Pleased with your work, you dismissed yourself, ready to return to Wanda's side. But, much to your dread, the brunette was gone when you arrived. Maybe she was tired of waiting for you? Perhaps she had found Pietro? No, but what if it was something terrible had happened to her? 

Not willing to take your chances, you decided to search for her. You looked throughout the entire first floor and even outside with no success. You were going up the stairs to scour the second floor, your concern threatening to detonate at any moment. Then, you heard her voice.

"Get away from me!"

In a panic, you followed the voice, leading you into one of the more isolated corridors. Your sight immediately landed on Brock Rumlow, backing up Wanda against the wall. Your blood boiled at the sight, and you clenched your fist, ready to attack. Before you could interfere, Wanda raised her knee, striking him between his legs. Rumlow tumbled down as he groaned in pain.

"You bitch!" he cursed, attempting to reach her on all fours. You were sure she could handle him herself, but you were consumed with rage as you ran forward, slamming your foot into his stomach, causing him to curl into a fetal position. You were about to deliver another blow to his face, but a gentle touch on your arm pulled you away. You are met with Wanda's pleading eyes telling you it was enough. 

You lowered yourself, yanking Rumlow by the hair and saying, "No means no, you fucking piece of shit." Before succumbing to your desire to injure him further, you intertwined your hand with Wanda's and led her to the front porch. 

You sat on the porch swing, closing your eyes and resting your head on the wood. Your lips were pulled into a tight line, fists clenched, as you tried to control your labored breathing. Your mind had a different idea as it drifted about what could have happened if you hadn't been there. Wanda handled the situation well enough, but the knowledge didn't lessen the anger. For fucks sake, all you wanted was to go back in and rip him apart. 

"Are you okay?" her honey-sweet voice broke you from your thoughts, a dry chuckle falling from your lips.

"I should be the one asking you that." You glanced at her. "You're the one who that asshole was..." You had to stop to take a deep, shaky breath, "I just want to go back in there and-"

Wanda lifted her hands to your cheeks, gently turning your head so you would look at her. "I'm okay," she whispered, thumbs caressing the skin of your cheekbones. You were instantly entranced by her intense stare, soothing voice, and the addicting feel of her skin on your own. Her lips turned upward, causing you to glance at them briefly. "You know you're always saving me. First, Trent Griffin, and now this idiot." She lowered her hands, making you immediately miss her touch. 

"I won't take credit for Rumlow. You had him handled before I interfered." You smirked at her, "Perfect kick, by the way." Your compliment evoked laughter from you both, Wanda's hand falling on your own. This time, you took the liberty of interlacing your hands. 

"So, who'd you meet?"

"Huh, oh, one of Peggy's friends, Sam. She was trying to set us up."

Wanda's head whipped around so fast, you thought it would fall off. "What?" She questioned, all playfulness was gone from her tone. 

"Yeah," you responded, unwilling to look at the girl. "Total waste, though. He looked like a nice guy and all, but definitely not my type. Besides, he had his eye on someone else." Your answer quelled the uneasiness in the brunette. 

"Really? Who?" She asked, disinterested but trying to seem unaffected by your words earlier. 

"Bucky," you answered with a grin, thinking of the cute couple the two would make. You missed the double take Wanda made. 

"Really? Bucky?" She questioned, perplexed. Although she didn't know Buck that well, she was highly intimidated by the man. The way he appeared to scowl at anyone except Steve. 

You found her incredulity hilarious, but you loved teasing her even more. "Do you have something against Bucky?" 

"What? No," she hastily replied. "It's just," she sighed, looking down, embarrassed, "he's kind of scary."

You burst into laughter as Wanda pulled her hand away to cover her face. As your giggles quieted, you uncovered her face, lacing your hands again. "Wanda, don't let the mean face fool you. He just has one of those faces. Bucky is a literal teddy bear. He would dare hurt a fly unless you mess with Steve or Alpine."

"Alpine?"

"His cat. See, totally safe," you assured.

Wanda sighed. "Sorry. I'm not actually scared of him; it's just that he appears intimidating."

"He does, doesn't he," you agreed with a smile.

"Anyways, this Sam," she dragged out, playing with your fingers. "You said he wasn't your type," Wanda took a deep breath. It was now or never. She looked straight at you and asked, " Tell me, who is your type?"

You felt the wind knocked out of your lungs as you gasped for an answer. What were you supposed to say? That she was your type? That all you could think about day and night was her? Or how anyone paled in comparison to her? You didn't dare to say any of those things yet. 

Instead, you nervously laughed as you rubbed your neck. "I don't know.'

"Not, Natasha?" Wanda pressed.

Your eyes shot to her, looking at her as if she'd grown a second head. "No, no, no. That's not- No," you vehemently denied. "Nat, she's amazing, but no."

You took a deep breath, furrowing your eyebrows in thought. "Pietro, he's my best friend, and while you and I didn't speak much, I always appreciated your presence." Wanda listened quietly, yet still confused about what that had to do with the conversation. "So when the two constants in my life left, I felt lost. I didn't know what to do with my best friend. Then, Natasha came along. She's kind of been to me what you are to Pietro. Someone who grounds me and pushes me to do better. It's because of her I got into soccer, you know? She basically dragged me to tryouts."

Wanda nodded understandingly. The quiet remained for a moment.

"What about you, Maximoff?"

She shrugged, "I haven't dated either."

"Really?" You asked, surprised that the goddess before you had not dated either. However, it was cut short by her following words.

"Actually, I did go on a date with this guy in California. It didn't work out."

You weren't jealous, no. You were curious about who was the idiot who let her go. "Really? Why"

"Jarvis came from an affluent family. All that money made him quite pretentious. To tell you that on the date, he took me to his mansion to show off all his money."

"Jarvis? His parents were definitely setting him up for failure with that name." Wanda laughed and playfully bumped your shoulder. 

When your laughter died down, you were left in silence, facing forward with a hint of a smile remaining on your lips. It wasn't uncomfortable like in your car, but peaceful and reassuring. You stayed in that position until you realized how late it was.

"Let's find Pietro so I can take you home." 

It didn't take long to find Pietro and his date, Crystal. The two were engaged in a competitive game of beer pong. Only two cups were left closest to them, while four remained on the opposing side. From his intoxicated state, you deduced they would soon lose. Pietro's uncoordinated throw needed more momentum, and the ping pong ball landed inches from the red solo cup. It wasn't long before the game ended.

You and Wanda walked in hand towards her brother, only separating as you threw your arm around his shoulder. The other took the alcohol-filled cup from his hands and set it down on the counter. "Okay, buddy, that's enough. Let's go home."

"Oh, come on, guys. It's still early."

"Seriously, Pietro. It's eleven," Wanda scolded with crossed arms. 

Pietro wrapped his arm around Wanda, so you were both on either side of him. "Sistra, aren't you enjoying yourself?"

Wanda shot daggers at Pietro, and you had to stop yourself from laughing. "No," she gravely responded.

"Okay, okay, okay." Pietro squeezed you both. "We can go... after you dance with Y/N." He looked down at you with a grin. "It's a party, and you two haven't done anything fun. Come on." He released you and took Crystal's hand, leading her to dance. 

You and Wanda watched, taken aback. Wanda scoffed, but you felt humored at Pietro's suggestion. Despite the loud music filling the atmosphere the entire night, it was the first time you cared to listen. Suddenly, all you wanted was a dance with Wanda. 

 You turned to Wanda, outstretching your hand. "He's right, you know? Let's have a little fun. Dance with me?"

She glanced at your hand, hesitation clear in her viridescent eyes. Wanda was not much of a dancer; back in California, when Pietro forced her to go to parties, she spent her time in secluded corners with her friends. She regretted not accepting the countless invitations to dance; maybe she wouldn't be destined to embarrass herself in front of everyone. With that thought in mind, she picked up Pietro's discarded drink and gulped it down in one go. A little liquid courage is all she needed, Wanda thought as she dropped her hand into your own and followed you to the dancing group.

You saw the nervousness in her eyes; you won't lie, you felt in yourself. Your coordination only functioned in the field, not on the dance floor, but you didn't care. You wouldn't mind making a fool of yourself for Wanda. You had half a mind to follow her lead with a drink but held back.

You stood still among the dancing teens sticking out like a sore thumb. You were unsure of what to do with your hand. Should you hold Wanda by her hips? Would that be too audacious? Wanda felt the same, uncertain of how to proceed. Wanda found it comical that you continued to be a nervous mess despite your newfound friendship. Although she didn't mind, she enjoyed seeing the all-mighty Y/N and confident Y/N from her childhood shy because of her definite ego boost. It made up for the millions of times she had to hide away in fear of embarrassing herself when you were near. 

Wanda bit her lip, looking up at you from under her lashes, and she swears she could hear how you take a sharp breath. With foreign confidence, Wanda wrapped an arm around your neck and, with the other, took your hand, placing it on her hip.

"Is this okay?" 

You nod stupidly, flushed by the action. Frankly, Wanda's boldness turned you on. It took a few mental reprimands to let loose and get into the rhythm. The music took over your body as you moved in sync, each beat resonating in your chest. Your body came alive with the music and the electrifying touch of the woman holding on to you. Nothing else mattered as you gazed into her hypnotizing eyes.

Your body tingled as she brought you closer, locking her hands around your neck. You could feel the silk-smooth skin of her hips as your hands reached under her shirt or her fresh mint breath on your lips. You felt drunk on the feeling of Wanda. 

Similarly, Wanda felt euphoric like never before, and despite her earlier concerns about dancing, her body moved so naturally. Every cell in her body is reinvigorated by your touch and the way you slightly scratched at her swaying hips. Suddenly, she couldn't remember why she hated parties. Was it because you weren't there? It didn't matter, not when she could feel the tension building and building to a place of no return. She licked at her lips, alternating her gaze from your lips to your half-lidded eyes.

You couldn't hold back any longer as you raised a hand to cup Wanda's cheek, like water slipping through a broken dam, your restraint torn down by need. Wanda leaned into your touch with a sigh, relishing the softness of the action. At any other moment, the brunette would find it unimaginable to act in such a way, but she figured it was the alcohol feeding into her boldness.

The two of you had stopped dancing long ago as you engaged in a battle of who would make the next move. It wasn't that you weren't dying to taste her lips. In truth, the need became nearly paralyzing. Maybe if you had acted sooner, you could have saved the moment. 

As you leaned in to kiss her, a drunken stranger crashed into you, and you staggered back with Wanda in your arms. It seemed as if the universe had a vendetta against you by how it intervened. For a second time, you were deprived of her lips by the consequence of outer forces. 

The blow knocked you out of your daze, and with regained senses, you took in the frantic, inebriated man thrashing around. Wanda turned around in your arms, confused by the commotion. You protectively pulled her closer to your body and stepped back to prevent getting struck by the man as his friends tried to pull him away. The situation only got worse as the drunk man noticed a laughing group.

"That's our cue to leave," you said, ignoring the near kiss, more apprehensive about the unfolding scene.

After collecting Pietro and Crystal, you bid farewells to your other friends and made your way to your car. You and Wanda lead the way in silence, yet not uncomfortable. Though the near kiss rested heavily on your mind, unlike last time, there were no doubts. Of course, you felt disappointed in the interruption, yet some of you acknowledged it wasn't the place or time. You were sure the moment would come soon enough.

Your hand itched to reach for her, but you held back, unsure what Pietro would think. When you got your car, you rushed to open the door for Wanda, sharing a smile as you did so. Behind you, Crystal complained to Pietro about his lack of chivalry and how she needed to be more like you. 

The ride to Crystal's place was short, but the couple in the backseat made the ride feel eternal as they made out. You and Wanda looked at each other disgusted while playfully gagging. You chuckled, poking fun at the couple. After dropping Crystal off, you made your way to the Maximoff residence. The collective exhaustion became visible in the lack of conversation. Pietro's usual talkative self hummed to a song on the radio while Wanda closed her eyes and rested her head on the window.

On the other hand, you used the time pondering on your next move. Should you talk to Pietro first before asking her out?

The twins thanked you for the ride as you stopped outside their place. Wanda kissed your cheek goodbye when Pietro was distracted like the other night and left without another word. Pietro followed, but not before making plans for him to come over the next day. As they walked away, you could only stare, entranced by the brunette. She would be the death of you.

[hopelessgirrl]

responding to @themarauderschild

Of course! I was so excited to write this

topics: the beginning, during, end and after the break up tags: Mariana Yamada Hockstetter, Antonio 'Anthony' Lazzaro, Patrick Hockstetter, Richie Tozier, Fulton Huggins and Losers club! (OC's and Canon!)

Tw: toxic relationship, mention of harassment, cussing, manipulation, distortion of the situation.

The Beginning (When It Felt Like a Dream)

Anthony noticed Mariana before anyone else did. He was drawn to her quiet, mysterious energy — it intrigued his ego. He liked the idea of being the only one to “unlock” her. To mold her.

He approached her with charm and sarcasm, teasing her lightly at first. She wasn’t used to attention like his, and that made it easy for him to slip in.

He played the “misunderstood bad boy” trope perfectly — said things like “I’m not good for you, but damn, you make me feel like I could be better.”

Mariana, craving understanding and connection, especially while living with Patrick and dealing with her mother's death, got attached. He made her feel seen — at least in the beginning..

He gives her presents and designer clothes. One of the presents he gave her was a pure silver necklace with a heart pendant. He gave it to her to celebrate one month of dating

Their “song” became Be My Baby by The Ronettes because he randomly slow-danced with her to it in a park at night once, and told her, “This song sounds like you — soft, but haunting.”

She never told anyone about their relationship at first. Anthony liked the secrecy — he said it made things more “intense.” Truthfully, it gave him more control.

During the Relationship

He constantly said shit about the things she loved subtly: “Youre drawing stuff again? You’re way too pretty to be a nerd, Mari."

BIGGEST jealousy issues. If she talked to anyone he didn’t like (the Losers), he'd guilt-trip her or get passive-aggressive.

Loved bombing her with affection one minute and ghosting her the next. It kept her emotionally confused and dependent on his approval.

He’d show up uninvited — at the library, her house, her art spots — claiming he “just missed her”, when in reality, he was checking where she was. (red flaaaaggg)

He had a way of twisting her words, making her feel like she was the one overreacting.

Boy get a grip?? 🖕🏻🙄

He never hit her — but he’d grab her wrist too tightly, lean in way too close when angry, and whisper threats like, “Don’t make me the villain in your story.” or “Stop struggling”

Not to mention the fact that he made her wear clothes that were EVERYTHING but her. Like a white dress with black details and a pearl necklace. Molding her, making her his little doll

The Breaking Point

Mariana began to open up to the Losers — people who actually saw her, respected her boundaries, and encouraged her independence.

The final straw was at a party when Be My Baby started playing, their music. The groping. The words. The fake sweet-talking. It was the perfect cocktail of every red flag he’d ever waved.

Anthony hated that. He started showing up at places just to “check on her.” At one point, he made a scene at the arcade when she was laughing with Richie???????

And she always had to stay with him and his friends, and even the Bowers gang since Anthony and them were """friends""" and all of them didn't like the Losers.

Fulton never liked him tho

She froze — but this time, something inside her snapped. Maybe it was Beverly’s voice calling her name, or the cold realization that she wasn’t his anymore, she never was.

She pushed him off and yelled in front of everyone. He smirked like it was a game, but her eyes were full of something he hadn’t seen before: clarity.

She left him that night. No explanations, no tears. Just silence. And that destroyed him more than anything.

Aftermath (Post-Breakup)

Anthony tried getting her back — not because he loved her, but because he couldn’t handle losing control. Losing his plaything “We had something real, Mari. Don’t throw it away like it meant nothing.”

He spread rumors, literally distorting the whole story like “She went crazy. She’s obsessed with me. You know how those girls are.”

He still calls her “Mari” sometimes when they pass by, just to get under her skin. She doesn’t flinch anymore.

Deep down, Anthony still thinks of her every time Be My Baby plays — and it burns. Because she doesn’t.

He developed PURE hatred for Fulton (Mariana's current boyfriend and a clear green flag), he can't stand Fulton. Because he's a better boyfriend and actually treats her well. “He doesn't love you, Mariana. Don't you see? I treated you much better than he did.”

Well, We don't want an Anthony in our lives, do we?

tags!: @phoenixgraced @marshbevvie @money-girls-death @kenzyduchanne-offical @itsyourgirlkenzie @itsdestinycriss @knyontop @solitudefears @graveyards-and-cats @lolita-hocksetter @loook-behind-you @henry-the-winner @patrickhockstettersweden25 @graveyards-end-cigarettes

[timoogi]

Pupa Project 🦋 Masterpost!

Project/Art Tag: #Pupa Project || Q&A Tag: #Compos Mentis (Q&A)

Welcome to the Pupa Project master-post! Here is where all information regarding the project will be held. This post will include lore information, important tags/links, frequently asked questions (should I get any), and function as a place I can keep track of what I have to work on!

— Characters/Concept Introduction Post

— Spotify Playlist

— Pinterest Board

The Faulty Machine ⚙️

Lore/Story Explanation | WARNING: This section will have spoilers for the VN as it details the full story

Pupa Project takes place in a vaguely Victorian English setting. I have not set it at any specific dates as I have pulled inspiration from across the time period.

Society is a fragile thing, as are human egos. Everyone is destined to play their part and fit into the structure that has been determined for us. After all, why should it change? It has gotten us this far. And should you not fit into the necessary slot, perhaps it is you who is the problem. This world needs able-bodied, able-minded workers. You mustn’t stick out, you mustn’t jam the cogs, should you break the machine completely…

Our story begins one year after Blythe Waldrop has been admitted to Lepidoptera. After being designated to doctor after doctor and being mistreated by the medical system, she is surprised when her new doctor, Dr. Laurence Caldwell, treats her with respect and dignity. Humane in his approach, Blythe quickly takes a liking to him, as do his other patients, Thomas Phillipps, Amaryllis Cook, and Henrietta Vivian Davis. In getting to know his patients, he starts to theorize that perhaps an essential part of rehabilitation is community and peer support. Thanks to this notion, Blythe, Thomas, Amaryllis, and Henrietta become well acquainted and even become close. Amaryllis gets to care for a child like she never could, Henrietta is treated with understanding and patience, Thomas is relied on and given a comfortable sense of responsibility, and Blythe is surrounded by people finally looking out for her best interest.

One day while enjoying some recreational time outside, Henrietta throws the ball the group was tossing around too far. Before anyone can react, Blythe proudly runs off to retrieve it, disappearing into the forest for a short while. This is where she meets him.

Mr. Gryllidae is whimsical and strange, much like many other visions Blythe has had. He is a mechanical cricket, humanoid, but a cricket nonetheless! He speaks to her enthusiastically, kind and expressive, and when he notices it is the ball she is after, he picks it up for her. His coppery fingers place the ball in her hands and pat her head before he bows to her in a gentlemanly way and takes his leave. Blythe trots back to the group with the ball in hand and informs them of a new friend she had made.

While things are looking up for Dr. Caldwell’s new patients, pressure is building up among the staff, particularly for Assistant Superintendent, Dr. Samuel Montague. Being next in line to uphold this institution after his father, Dr. Montague has grown increasingly frustrated with his colleague’s tremendous success. Why couldn’t he make such breakthroughs? And how dare those patients gain a sense of self assurance! Dr. Montague confides in his only support, Nurse Cassandra Beechworth, who would do anything to help him.

From here, the asylum starts to become a colder place once again. And every time Mr. Gryllidae can visit Blythe, he notices how dire the situation is becoming. Not just for her, but for her friends as well. He decides he cannot stand by while they are punished for trying to live. So, dressed in his finest attire, Mr. Gryllidae sets off to have a private meeting with Dr. Caldwell to form a plan.

There are some things humans can just not accept. There are many reasons why someone may snap. Stress, pressure, your entire world view being threatened. When Mr. Gryllidae appears before Dr. Caldwell, Mr. Gryllidae who was supposed to be a hallucination, Mr. Gryllidae who was just the machinations of a sick little girl, Mr. Gryilldae who was everything humans are supposed to fear, it seems to shatter the delicately designed reality the doctor found himself in. Perhaps Dr. Montague was right. Perhaps Dr. Caldwell was just as bad as them. But he wouldn’t continue to let himself be pulled under by insanity. He would do whatever it takes to rid this world of this threat. He had been infected… infested.

Dr. Caldwell exterminates these parasites, he sets fire to the asylum, leaving everyone but him to die inside. But as he stands outside the building, starting to grapple with what he had just done, his mind wanders to one singular thought. What would happen to…

Blythe looks out to him through the window on the second story. Her escape routes had been blocked by smoke and falling beams. The only option would be to jump out the window. After all, Dr. Caldwell is out there! He could catch her and help her! So, comforted by voices that tell her she’ll be okay, she smashes through the glass, jumping and plummeting to the pavement below her.

The scene is grisly. No survivors to be seen and the fire roaring into the night. Mr. Gryllidae does not fret, however. Carefully, he picks Blythe up and brings her to his manor. This wouldn’t be her end. Oh no, this was just the beginning. She would be given the second chance she deserved, one filled with tasty cake and beautiful dresses. He would not fail her like so many before him had. They could dismantle the machine together. And use those parts to pave a new way for all those like them.

Character Tags 💉

Blythe Waldrop

Eugene-Albert Gryllidae

Thomas Phillipps

Amaryllis Cook

Henrietta Vivian Davis

Dr. Laurence Caldwell

Dr. Samuel Montague

Nurse Cassandra Beechworth

Inspirations 💡

This project takes inspiration from a lot of my experiences and interests. For as long as I can remember, I’ve always been interested in the Victorian era, especially their fashion. Perhaps because of how I see the world, I have also always been comforted by “creepy” and unconventional things. The dead, the macabre, I find a lot of solace in the feared and misunderstood, and so this world is filled with dreadfully whimsical aesthetics!

One of my most common and persistent hallucinations has to do with bugs. Because of this, for a long time I feared bugs and often felt a lot of anxiety around them. The only ones I realized I felt comforted by was butterflies. They are big and bright and during one small episode, brought me a sense of calm. Ever since then, I have decided to take my love for collecting bones and specimen and extend that to making art with pinned bugs. As of right now, I’ve only pinned butterflies, but being able to work with and make art out of things I once feared gives me a sense of control and understanding. Through safe exposure to the bugs I once freaked out about, I have found myself fascinated by them. Hence, the bug theme for Pupa Project!

When it comes to actual story, I am heavily inspired by the game Fran Bow, as well as games I watched playthroughs of as a child like Mad Father and Ib. Originally, I wanted to make Pupa Project an rpg maker style game, and perhaps I will make it one day! But as of right now, I think the easiest way for me to learn to code and put something together is in visual novel form! I grew up watching YouTubers play Japanese horror games and they have a huge impact on not just this project, but all my art! I want to make something that feels nostalgic!

To-Do Checklist 📋

Finish Blythe sprites

Continue writing out script

[phoenixyfriend]

Will you share what makes you ship Anakin/Cody? It's a pairing I'd never have considered, so I'm really curious what makes you interested in it!

This is an interesting question for a few reasons, but I think I should link this post first.

One of the ship dynamics I gravitate towards, especially for Anakin, is 'incredibly powerful/skilled person who is desperate to please, and the person who is largely unimpressed with their baseline level of skill and power, but will genuinely and meaningfully praise/acknowledge the thing they put a real effort into.'

I think Cody is really, really unimpressed with Anakin's shenanigans, and he shows it. He's a walking raised eyebrow with "and?" hanging in the air. He knows Anakin is powerful and great with droids, but can he hold his temper? Can he remember and implement the battle plan that Rex drew up? Can he [redacted horny challenge]?

Anakin wants to impress Cody, and Cody wants Anakin to behave, but also Cody wants to see what makes Anakin tick. He's a very strange and emotional man, and that's a bit of a challenge to figure out and settle, and Cody imo likes a challenge.

In my mind, they didn't love or hate each other on first sight, they were just... wary. Cody had just spent a few weeks getting to know his new boss, and said new boss had mentioned his brother-son at least twice an hour. Cody goes in knowing that Anakin is reckless, but a genius, and lacking in common sense. He's emotional and forgets to sleep when he dedicates himself to a task, and is still getting used to his new arm because he tried to fight a Sith Lord 1v1.

Anakin comes into this situation knowing that Cody is competent, and that Obi-Wan describes him as a good man, and that the two seem to get along pretty well. Being Anakin, he's a little worried about getting replaced, but this is someone Obi-Wan has to work with, and it seems to be on the up and up, but they've had a few weeks to get to know each other without him there, so he's anxious, because in Anakin's mind he is the only person that should ever be Obi-Wan's SiC, but also, Obi-Wan likes this guy alright and the guy in question has managed to keep Obi-Wan and a bunch of soldiers alive so far, so he can't be that bad, so Anakin should try to get along with him, or Obi-Wan will be disappointed, or even upset, and Anakin can't deal with that right now.

So they meet and it's awkward and they try to settle into a working relationship of some kind, and it mostly is... okay. Anakin snaps and gets aggressive sometimes, but Cody is just a wall to it. This isn't great for Anakin, personally, who's used to 'not taking this shit, will wait silently for you to stop being a dick with obvious judgement' from people like Windu, but it works. Cody doesn't enjoy Anakin's behavior, nobody does, but he can deal with it and he's seen a couple brothers come through injury-and-prosthesis with a short temper, so like. Sure. Whatever.

But then Anakin starts coming to Cody for help with tactics and strategy, because Obi-Wan is busy, but Cody is basically Anakin's peer, right? And Cody was super trained in this? And that determination from Anakin to get good at war--whether it's for the sake of Anakin's own ego and need to excel at everything, or for the sake of keeping Cody's own brothers alive--sparks some interest from Cody. Anakin is trying. He's not good at it, not yet, but he's sharp and he asks good questions, and he doesn't doubt Cody's expertise... at least, not too often.

But Anakin does that to Obi-Wan, too, so Cody doesn't take it personally. This is just Anakin's personality. It's a flaw.

It helps that Anakin is pretty. Cody knows everyone can tell. He's not the only one that's noticed.

Then Anakin gets promoted, they split for a few months of Anakin leading his own legion across the galaxy, and the legions come back together for Christophsis or something, and Cody gets to see that Anakin is more confident now, rather than just bluster and arrogance, that it's in his walk, in how comfortable he is with the arm, in the fact that he grasps Rex's battle plans with an ease that takes even some brothers a while to learn.

And Anakin still, the second they are in proximity, wants approval. Some of it from Obi-Wan, obviously, but some of it from Cody, too.

Cody likes that. He likes that this incredibly powerful, widely respected Jedi (who happens to be very pretty and basically the same age as Cody himself) wants his approval. Wants his attention. Wants to know that he's doing a good job.

Wants a firm hand to tell him when he's wrong, and to praise him when he's right, and to force him to still and settle when he's about to jitter out of his skin.

I think Cody finds Anakin fascinating before he finds him charming or forms an emotional bond with him, but it's a solid place to start from.

(And Anakin just... latched onto a person that was Good At Thing that paid him attention and then gave him positive feedback.)

(That's like half my Anakin ships, though. It is very easy to make this boy fall in love. The real challenge is figuring out how the other person reacts to Anakin being... Intense.)

[moonlightcanyon]

ASPD/PPD knife post 1

okay so how I want to do these: I'm gonna recap everything I plan on going over (partially so you don't have to go and rewatch it to remember, partially because it helps ME while typing), then analyze it in detail. I tend to analyze like knife canonically has the disorders because he... really might as well

the text in this one is being copied and pasted from discord since I've already got it typed up and it won't take too much time to edit. that said I was talking to a friend who didn't know the show at the time and you might notice this in a few spots

this one's primarily focusing on the dynamic between knife and trophy early s2. I ask that this doesn't get tagged as shipping since it squicks me out and I personally can't see it working anyway

@fansblogs @mr-payjay

ALRIGHT HERE WE GO

at one point in season 1, the rewards for contestants that got to move on was a dora doll. knife was one of them and he ended up getting pretty attached to it

I figure he did because. PPD. this is something he was given that has no capacity for harm. if he's got something personal that he needs to get off his chest he can say it to the doll, and then in the ASPD aspect he can hold onto it for comfort if he needs to or somethin, seeing as he doesn't have anyone who would give him physical comfort if he needed it

in s2 ep1, trophy wants to form an alliance between himself and knife, but knife declines pretty quickly (the jock/jerk thing). trophy presses and knife, evidently annoyed, punches him and takes him out of the challenge

towards the end of ep2, trophy goes to find knife and finds/overhears him talking to the dora doll, saying that the doll is his only true friend and nobody else understands him. trophy snaps a picture and goes to show everyone; knife begs him not to, saying he'll do anything

trophy tells him that if knife does everything he tells him to for the rest of the season, he won't show anyone the picture. and knife agrees bc as far as he can tell there's no getting out of it otherwise

ep 4 opens up with more of knife doing everything trophy says, even using fan as a literal fan. knife then abruptly says 'no' to trophy and to show everyone the stupid picture + he doesn't care

in ep3 we see trophy manipulating knife into doing exactly that; when knife considers not doing something, trophy either shows/mentions the picture to him and knife immediately cooperates. he gets his leg broken because of this

trophy pulls it out, knife goes 'wait!', trophy laughs and says he knew knife was chicken, and then knife says 'no, I just wanted to let you know that you have grape juice on your chin'

trophy then goes and shows everyone. we get a shot of several characters laughing, but it's very obvious not all of them are: baseball and apple look irritated and confused respectively

knife sighs in defeat. cut to baseball saying he honestly doesn't care

baseball goes on to talk about how everyone who got sent to idiotic island each had their own Thing to keep them occupied and knife's was the doll. he then mentions how paper didn't have something to keep him occupied and practically tried to kill everyone and asks if that's what trophy wants: for knife to do the same

trophy is like '????? you support this?????'

a few others agree with baseball and they all walk off, with trophy trying to get them to come back because he 100% believes knife is super lame for this

knife then comes up behind him and gives trophy a mini-lecture about how he must feel like a loser, because he knows he would, reminds trophy that he's a jock and knife is a jerk, and says that trophy never stood a chance against him from the start

cue unexpected moment where trophy tells him to go jump off a bridge

and fuckin- there is so much to break down here okay.

things that back up knife having ASPD and PPD:

trophy has a huge ego and sees himself as above others. a big thing with pwASPD is the disrespect of authority that we find stupid/unnecessary, and that can include people that act like they have authority when they really don't (I personally don't often get along with pwNPD for this exact reason). knife's first interaction with trophy is trophy insulting his capacity to break things with his 'pillow fists'; their second interaction is trophy trying to form an alliance with him, backhandedly calling him a 'sharp guy'. given that trophy made his personality clear right off the bat in both interactions I'm genuinely unsurprised that knife turned him down (and then punched him when he wouldn't back off); pwPPD often have a tendency to be hypervigilant because they're looking for threats to their safety. for me personally, I experience more of the ASPD side of things when interacting with someone I don't know well, and in this instance I can see knife essentially flipping from PPD's 'seeing hidden threats' to 'I don't care about you, actually, get lost.' as an aside, while I am a trophy NPD believer, I'm biased against him and thus won't really be getting into that as I'm likely to unintentionally paint him in a bad light

knife's choice of phrasing to the doll is interesting. he specifically says true friend and not friend, and given that at this point he doesn't really have any bonds with others, thus nobody gets him? entirely accurate- and yet that is an expression of vulnerability, something he's only letting himself express to the doll in a moment of safety. I'm still kind of sorting my PPD stuff out but in my experience, I have a lot of people/friends I can talk to about things, but only two or three that I feel comfortable talking to about Literally Everything and/or being more 'stream of thought' with them. I've spent A LOT of time around them, know how they react to things, and they have continually accepted me and been there even when I display odd or less than pleasant behavior- thus I view them as safe spaces/moments for when I need to be vulnerable. then with ASPD, you will see pwASPD express vulnerability, but it's often in half-lies? for example they might say they're upset and omit why, or give you a convincing reason for their being upset that isn't the real reason. unless either a situation needs to be maintained with genuine feelings or the pwASPD is that comfortable around you/a group, feelings are often expressed in those half-lies. I tend to have this response with basically anyone that falls outside of those two or three people I mentioned, and also with people I don't know very well.

so then to be caught in such a vulnerable moment by someone like trophy? Oh God. it's partially embarrassment, partially 'fuck did he hear me' (which, interestingly, trophy doesn't seem to have), and completely registering as a threat to his safety (PPD response). he absolutely doesn't want to agree to trophy's terms but being caught in a moment like that is considered one of the worst-case scenarios to a pwPPD, so he agrees because the other option is to be seen as weak. and that Cannot Happen.

the stuff in ep3 is… well, classic manipulation? but it's also knife firmly believing that his safety will be compromised if the others find out about the doll, plus what he said to it. this is another PPD response; he's backing up his worries with evidence to something that ultimately isn't the biggest problem ever

knife gets his leg broken when yang throws yin at him, causing him to fall off a bicycle. knife still completes his part of the challenge via dragging himself along the ground; he calls both his broken leg and trophy stupid before saying it's all stupid. when he finally reaches microphone, she's unintentionally loud as she asks what happened, and he gets even more upset with the whole situation because now his ears hurt, taking it out on her somewhat. she asks if he's sure he's okay; he says 'not to be rude' before realizing he DOES want to be rude, says as much, and then yells at microphone to go away and start her part of the challenge. this sequence of events likely caused a symptom flare for both disorders at the same time, and knife calling his leg/trophy/everything stupid is also where he shifts from the PPD perspective to the ASPD perspective. I don't know which disorder would cause this specific response (as I tend to experience both at the same time during a flare), but one of them at minimum makes it very likely to snap at people while having a symptom flare; both the trophy situation and the challenge going to shit is 100% enough to cause an intense flare-up and he absolutely can't keep masking in the moment, he needs to be left alone. in my experience I also simultaneously experience 'I don't want to interact with people' and 'everybody is a threat' during flare-ups; typically one response is stronger than the other, but for really nasty ones both are equally strong.

trophy comes up to him later in the episode and says he can't believe that his blackmailing has led to this. knife agrees and asks to be let off the hook, and trophy reveals that he wasn't concerned for knife at all, he was upset that knife made their team lose the challenge. trophy talks a bit more and knife is VISIBLY angry, and he insults trophy under his breath the second he's done talking (the captions say 'well good grief, bozo' but it sounds more like 'well, good for you, too'. can't figure out which is right or if it's something else entirely). trophy angrily says 'what?' and knife pretty much goes 'huh whuh'. and like… yeah. petty insults during a symptom flare aren't common (an intense one will most likely see the pwASPD/PPD using the harshest insults they can come up with based off what they know about the other person to get said other person to go away), but given that knife knows little about trophy's life he can't come up with anything that'll actually have some kick to it. this interaction also reinforces the switch into a more ASPD way of thinking; a more PPD-focused thought process would be something along the lines of 'I did all this/let myself get hurt for you and you don't even care? why? aren't I doing it right?'

ep4, trophy asks knife something and knife genuinely just replies with 'oh, shut up'. given that in ep3 he was starting to realize that the whole thing is stupid and especially given trophy's lack of care about his leg, he's definitely done some thinking and come to the conclusion that this entire thing isn't worth it. he's being taken advantage of and being treated poorly, he broke his leg, he had a very bad symptom flare- and all this over a doll and some words? sounds ridiculous and stupid when put that way. and like I said earlier: pwASPD do not like authority figures or rules that they deem stupid. a stupid situation caused by someone acting like they have authority also classifies. pwASPD are also way more likely to give a firm 'fuck you' type of response to people when they're fed up with something/someone, or someone implies they can't do something

trophy then asks for more ventilation and knife, annoyed but notably somewhat indifferent, pulls out fan and, well, starts fanning. fan asks to be put down and knife tosses fan up because JESUS CHRIST THERE'S JUST NO WINNING. trophy tells him to keep fanning; fan comes back down and knife starts up again. fan then says he's getting dizzy and that is the last straw for knife; he just drops him and gives a very firm 'no' to trophy. and fucking- ouughgh okay. pwASPD often disregard the rights of others, yes, but we still have a moral compass. if someone doesn't need to get involved then they shouldn't get involved, the end. knife disregarded fan initially but the second fan said he was getting dizzy, he realized the whole thing is causing him to hurt people that don't need to be involved (which also gets into not hurting people that don't 'need' to be hurt) and that's not going to fly, actually. it also appeals to the more sensitive side of PPD, which can be very in-tune with people and their feelings.

the grape juice thing? not just a funny moment. knife is scared to possibly have his safety compromised- PPD briefly taking over, in a way- but he chooses to commit, 'flipping back' to ASPD and covering up his fear by pointing out the juice on trophy. his expression switches back to nervous as trophy turns around to go show everyone the picture, but he doesn't say anything else. enough is enough yk.

in presenting the picture, trophy calls knife 'a girly, doll-obsessed freak'… and doesn't add anything about what knife said to the doll, hence my assumption that trophy didn't hear him. which is a huge win for knife because it registers as an 'oh thank god, this isn't as bad as it could be' type of situation and helps quiet down the PPD. he sighs in defeat, yes, but there's a lot of relief too, I'd imagine- it's not the end of the world, actually. he can recover from this.

baseball saying 'honestly, I don't care' once everyone finishes laughing is also huge for knife because the way pwASPD interpret 'I don't care' is different than how most people interpret it. the phrase is often taken with a negative connotation by the average person, whereas pwASPD (and some normal people) hear it and take it neutrally. it's like saying that you think a piece of food is alright- if it turned up on your plate again, you'd eat it, but you wouldn't go out of your way to seek it out. baseball likely meant 'I don't care' as in 'are you for real/is this seriously what you're occupying yourself with', but knife heard 'I don't care' as in 'this is a piece of information that doesn't mean anything, leave it/knife alone', which also helps quiet down the PPD

in response to trophy asking if baseball really supports that part of knife, baseball backs himself (and knife) up with the stuff I mentioned earlier about idiotic island. not only did this likely comfort knife (even more soothing the PPD), it also convinces the other characters 'actually, even though we laughed at him for it at first, that makes sense. I'd do the same thing in his situation.' baseball pretty much unintentionally got everyone off knife's back and now knife doesn't have to go through all the effort of doing it himself (ASPD. if someone can do something for you, and especially unintentionally: take the opportunity and let them)

knife's mini-lecture is both him putting trophy in his place and reassuring himself. as much as trophy WANTS to have authority, have some semblance of power, he doesn't- knife actually has some due to his reputation, and the others are aware of it. a common fantasy in pwPPD is being in a position of power where nobody can hurt them. while he says that trophy never stood a chance against him from the start, I don't think he fully believes it yet, but he's saying it because he needs to make sure trophy Knows not to mess with him again. I think this also counts as an 'eye for an eye' thing considering trophy's treated him like shit for a while; knife can be shitty right back, which thus makes them both even and helps manage both disorders at the same time. I didn't know this when I initially typed all this out but in pwPPD, there's a strong desire for revenge, which is something I experience all the time.

in response to being told to jump off a bridge, knife reacts with surprise. and it makes sense given that knife didn't retaliate against trophy physically or really do much of anything to him, and that's with this whole thing resulting in knife's leg getting broken. there's not a part of knife that knows how to react to that because it's just- not computing. 'you cause this whole situation, then tell me to do that? okay?? I guess??'

after the intro plays, at the elimination area, knife and suitcase are sitting next to each other when mephone announces they're safe. when suitcase says 'wow knife!', knife initially looks over with some annoyance expecting to be insulted (likely still in the ASPD way of thinking)- but suitcase follows up with 'congratulations!' and it's so genuine knife doesn't know how to react to it. he ends up going 'wow… thanks!' with this somewhat sheepish expression that really strongly implies he has rarely or possibly never been complimented so genuinely before.

trophy starts throwing a fit that he's been voted out and stomps on box; suitcase stands up and shouts 'you monster! you're just jealous because he's (referring to box, I believe, but could also be interpreted as referring to knife) still in the game!' trophy yells at her to shut up and she meekly goes 'okay' and sits back down before trophy's even done yelling. knife is still there and as this happens he's sitting there with this expression that, to me, is him zoning out- but he's still present enough to hear and process this interaction considering he responds to it.

like I just said: given how knife reacted to a genuine compliment, he's not used to that happening. this is his first interaction with suitcase and it's an incredibly positive one, and he can tell it's not fake (goes back to hypervigilance in PPD). so after trophy yells at suitcase, knife gets up almost immediately and says 'alright dude, that's it. no more mr. knife guy.' he is Done with trophy's shit and he's not letting it start up again (very ASPD, since he learned he can go up against trophy and come out on top), especially not towards someone who was truly kind to him a minute ago (very PPD, with the sensitive side to it)

a detail I didn't mention is that in ep1, when knife punches trophy away, he does it before trophy finishes talking. now, when a contestant is eliminated they go through the portal, yeah? trophy is standing nearby said portal as knife approaches him, and in response to what knife said trophy pretty much replies with 'bring it on, I've been waiting for this'- except he doesn't get to finish because knife kicks him through the portal before he can. he just doesn't fucking care about this guy anymore. pretty good way to send trophy off, I'd say

and finally, a funny detail that isn't really related to all this but I want to mention anyway:

in that first scene of ep4 with knife and trophy, knife's leg is fine. in the elimination scene, knife's broken leg is in a cast- but the cast is suddenly gone when he stands up, and he kicks trophy through the portal with that same leg. I know what the animators were going for but it's REALLY funny. especially when the cast doesn't come back for the rest of the episode

a'ight that's about it. peace :P

[fameandfiction]

IMAGINE PART I: “This Is Why I Hate You” — Reneé Rapp x Reader

— You hate her. She knows. And that might be why she won’t stop looking at you like that.

PART1 - PART2 - PART3

You’ve met Reneé Rapp exactly five times.

Once at a mutual’s wrap party, where she cut in front of you at the bar, ordered four tequila sodas, and made a joke about your boots being “aggressively serious.”

Once backstage at a panel, where she rolled her eyes so hard at your comment about industry tokenism that someone asked if she was having a stroke.

Once during an interview, where you were seated side by side — for chaos, clearly — and she spent the entire time spinning your pen between her fingers like it was hers and not something you needed to sign autographs later.

The fourth time? She spilled iced coffee down your tote bag at a pre-Grammys brunch and apologized by tossing you a napkin and muttering, “Shouldn’t have put your laptop in there anyway.”

The fifth? The fifth is now. And you’re stuck with her for eight weeks.

Same residency. Same brand sponsor. Same late-night rehearsals, same press junkets, same hotel hallway.

And it’s only Day Two when she shows up to the green room in your hoodie.

Your favorite hoodie. The one you left in the dressing room by accident last night, still warm from your skin, still carrying the ghost of your perfume. It’s unmistakable — soft-washed black with that tiny bleach stain near the hem.

She’s wearing it like it’s hers.

Cropped over her ribcage. Sleeves shoved halfway up her forearms. A mischievous little smirk riding her lips like she’s waiting for you to notice — no, daring you to.

“I thought I threw that thing in the laundry,” you say as you walk in, icy.

Reneé doesn’t even flinch. “You didn’t.”

“Cool. So you’re just stealing from me now?”

She shrugs, stretching dramatically. “You left it. Abandoned. I rescued it. Honestly, I should be thanked.”

You give her a flat look. “Give it back.”

She eyes you — head tilted, tongue pressed to the inside of her cheek.

“No.”

The silence snaps tight between you.

You take a breath. Not because you’re angry (you are), but because you won’t give her the satisfaction of seeing it.

“Childish,” you mutter, moving past her to the makeup station. “You’re literally a walking headline for adult ADHD.”

“Only ‘cause I’m not a headline for fragile ego and creative envy,” she says, leaning against the counter beside you like she belongs there.

You glare at her reflection in the mirror. “You don’t rattle me, Rapp.”

“Mm,” she says, lips quirking. “But I could, right?”

There it is again — the game.

The way she says things that mean too much and not enough all at once. The way she’s always just close enough to be a problem. Her tone, her posture, her smirks — they all burn under your skin like static electricity before a storm.

And you hate her for it.

You hate the way she smells like coconut and leather and a hint of something bitter. You hate the way she always gets the last word. You hate that everyone else likes her — as if she’s magnetic, chaotic, uncontainable. You hate that she never misses your interviews, always posts the ones where your voice wavers just slightly, always leaves some mocking comment under a fake account that you know is her.

But what you hate most? You can’t stop watching her.

Her hands. Her mouth. Her confidence that borders on arrogance. The way she throws herself into songs like they’re wars she intends to win.

You’ve spent months brushing it off as rivalry.

Maybe it was.

Until now.

Because now, she’s standing behind you as you pretend to adjust your lip liner, and you feel her breath — warm, uninvited — skim your ear.

“You’re prettier when you’re mad,” she murmurs.

You blink once.

Twice.

Then drop the lip liner on the table, push away from the chair, and meet her gaze head-on.

“You’re not worth the headache,” you say, voice low.

She steps closer.

“Then stop making me your problem.”

Your breath catches.

She smells like secrets. Like adrenaline. Like the possibility of something ruinous.

And then she walks away — hoodie still on, mouth still smug — as if she didn’t just rearrange your entire nervous system with a sentence.

You hate her. God help you. You’re not sure you can survive liking her, too.

PART1 - PART2 - PART3

[snetofed]

“Between Hate and Fire”

(Mattheo Riddle and Tn Custer: a story of love and jealousy, enemies to lovers)

From the first day they crossed paths in the Hogwarts hallway, they hated each other. Or so they pretended.

You, the only one who could look Mattheo Riddle in the eye without flinching. He, the only one who managed to get on your nerves without saying a single word.

"Watch your step, Custer," he said in his deep, slow voice when you intentionally bumped into his shoulder.

"You first, Riddle. Don't trip over your ego."

Sparks flew. Those around him fell silent.

No one was spoken to like that.

Except you.

And for him, it didn't anger him… it inflamed him.

Everything became a constant back-and-forth. Sarcastic comments in class. Innuendos when no one else was listening.

"You should be careful, love," he whispered once in your ear as you walked past him. "I'm still tempted to kiss you just to shut you up."

"Do it and I'll break your nose with a charm," you smiled at him.

"I'd accept it. Happy, too."

But the lines began to blur.

One night, at a clandestine party in the Room of Requirement, he caught you dancing with a Ravenclaw boy. And when your eyes met… you knew.

Mattheo was furious.

He walked up to you, shoved you with an icy smile, and pulled your arm with measured force.

"Jealous, Riddle?" you asked, challenging him.

"No, enraged. It's different." "Why do you care who I dance with?"

Mattheo cornered you against a wall. The music roared in the distance, but there, in that dark corner, only the two of you existed.

"Because you're mine, fucking mine… even if you don't accept it yet."

And then he kissed you. A violent, needy kiss, full of rage and suppressed desire.

And you, instead of pulling away, kissed him back with the same intensity. Because you hated him too. And you wanted him just the same.

From that night on, they couldn't pretend anymore.

In class, your legs brushed against his. In the library, you pretend to argue while your hands met under the desk. In the empty hallways… you kissed as if the world could end tomorrow.

But Mattheo was still possessive. And you, too stubborn to be tamed.

"Do you really need to talk to Zabini that much?" he snapped at you one afternoon, jealousy looming behind his gray eyes.

"Do you really think you can control who I talk to?"

Mattheo grabbed you by the waist, his lips brushing against yours.

"I don't want to control you. I want you to know that if anyone else touches you… I'll destroy them." "What if I like provoking you?"

"Then you'll be trapped with me forever."

And you didn't say it out loud, but you knew: You were already trapped.

For the way he looked at you as if you were the only thing that mattered. For his wild need to have you. For the passion that burned through everything they were… even when they fought.

It wasn't a fairy tale. It was more like a holy war, with kisses like weapons and glances that spoke louder than a thousand promises.

He was still a problem. You, a storm that wouldn't calm down.

But at night, when you lay between wrinkled sheets and shallow breaths, there was something that was only yours:

Rabid love. Dark. Unbreakable.

And damn, hating someone never felt so good.

Important notice: Please support my posts, it motivates me to keep uploading. Thanks for reading!

[waihtie]

Working and watching Supernatural

Season 3 Episode 6 - Red Sky at Morning

○ Ghost ship episode

○ Dude just appeared in this chick's shower and killed her

● Could've sworn he snapped her neck, but they're saying she drowned (no tub, standing shower)

○ Dean noticed the Colt is missing a bullet. He's pissed. Knows what Sam did.

○ This old lady flirting with Sam lol

"Bite me"

"Not if she bites you first"

○ Ghost ship is a death omen

● Over 150 similar ships crashed nearby. That's gonna be easy to narrow down

○ The Impala is missing. Oh boy. Someone's gonna die.

● Bro's having a panic attack

● Ah, Bela, causing trouble again

"You shot me"

"I barely grazed you"

Brilliant

○ I want to add more of this little convos between them and Bela, but how many can I really put into a post before it's too much?

"Really want to come near me while I have a gun in my hand?"

○ Ghostie choosing to show up to kill this guy when Sam and Dean are there. Good thinking.

● Still managed to kill the guy and get away

● Sam's feeling guilty. "Lately it feels like I just can't save anybody" (aka Dean)

○ They know where the Ghostie's hand is. Bela said so. She's so gonna steal it from them (or try)

○ Dean feeling insecure about being all dressed up 😂 (but it's cute)

Guess I'm not the only one who thinks he looks good dolled up

"Don't objectify me" -Dean Winchester

○ That old lady crushing on Sam is his date. That's hilarious (Sam doesn't think so)

○ "Oh, she's being looked after, alright" (soo funny with the context)

○ Yup Bela stole the thing

● But, just like the last episode she was in, she's gonna have to give it to the boys to destroy or else she'll die (she's seeing the ship)

● Oh shit, she sold it already. Damn. Never mind.

○ It only kills people who killed family members. Who'd Bela kill?

○ This summoning ritual Sam is reading...

"Aziel, Castiel, Lamisniel, Rabam. Ehrley, et balam, ego vos conuro, per deum verum, per deum vivum..."

○ More fighting about Dean's inevitable death

This one had a lot of funny little comments I just wish I had room for on this post

[elioas-diel]

♡ welcome to elioas-diel’s….

(ﾉ´ヮ´)ﾉ*: ･master-list

🎀:: includes, my full guide to navigating my page/posts and to what i will write!

this will be updated whenever i post!! ♡

-🎀-

🎀:: icons to look out for when browsing the list:

fluff: ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ (5 published works, Valentines day special in progress)

angst (includes, all angsty levels: low, mild and high): (⇀‸↼‶) (1 unpublished, 1 in progress)

colour indicators for the levels:

(⇀‸↼‶) - teensy bit of angst, eventual fluff

(⇀‸↼‶) - mild angst, eventual fluff (most the time)

(⇀‸↼‶) - pure angst, will probably never end in fluff

a note regarding smut: (-_-)ゞ❌

!! i’ll bet that some of you have noticed that smut is not listed here, and that isn’t by any mistake - i strictly do not write any form of smut - i just don’t feel comfortable doing that. so i will NOT take any requests for this genre, i hope you guys can understand !!

-🎀-

🎀:: my works:

THE MAZE RUNNER:

2025 VALENTINES DAY SPECIAL MASTERLIST:

🎀:: ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ status: ongoing masterlist

includes most of the TMR characters:

gally 1 , 2, thomas 1, 2, newt 1, 2, minho 1, 2, jeff 1, 2 , frypan 1, 2, ben, teresa 1, 2, harriet 1, 2, sonya 1, 2 aris 1, 2

1. - moodboard and imagines

2. - headcanons

GALLY:

🎀:: fics:

ongoing fanfic :: 𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐀; 𝐚𝐧 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐞 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐛𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐨𝐦, (x fem!reader)

1. prologue

🎀:: headcanons (my thinking abouts!):

🎀:: !!NOTE!! please read !!

though gender neutral pronouns are used i think the first two posts are written as implied females - i am actively trying to get better at writing with gn!readers so i’m sorry if it’s not to your standard - feel free to message me if you have any tips!

-🎀-

⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ :: 🎀thinking about! gally who has a (not so little) crush on you (x reader - gn pronouns used)

TOP POST: ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ :: 🎀thinking about! gally who only has a soft spot for you (x reader - gn pronouns used)

🎀:: moodboards (includes, a grid framed collage with 9 images and a !short imagines! excerpt):

⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ :: “there’s nothing more ego boosting than having someone praise you after a hard works - day done, isn’t there?” (x reader - gn pronouns used)

🎀:: sypnopsis: gally puts his skills to use and builds you something that’ll help your life in the glade more tolerable.

🎀:: chat fic (includes, message like styled writing, snap picture formats and instagram stories):

// have not written any yet

🎀:: other (includes, rants, yapping, you get the gist):

⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ :: the notebook, movie au x gally (x implied fem!reader)

🎀:: sypnopsis: me yapping about how gally would act if he was in noah calhoun’s shoes, and you were in allie (allison) hamiltons shoes.

-🎀-

FULL MAZE RUNNER CAST:

🎀:: !!NOTE!! please read if confused with title !!

when i group posts under ‘full maze runner cast,’ it involves,

platonic friendships with the reader, silly little au’s - no clear relationships are stated but sometimes it will be implied (don’t worry i’ll note implied relos or ships) - so no !this isn’t some crazy harem with all the characters! if that’s what you were thinking ♡.

i hope this cleared things up before it confuses anyone😙!

-🎀-

🎀:: short fics:

// have not written any yet

🎀:: headcanons (my thinking abouts!):

// have not written any yet

🎀:: moodboards (includes, a grid framed collage with 9 images and a !short imagines! excerpt):

// have not written any yet

🎀:: chat fic (includes, message like styled writing, snap picture formats and instagram stories)

⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ :: an unlikely person “helps” you study (reader: female pronouns used) || COLLEGE AU

🎀:: sypnopsis: when your friends can’t come and help you study - you call in for back up - though, you really should’ve specified who.

🎀:: other (includes, rants, yapping, you get the gist):

// have not written any yet

-🎀-

CONCERNING requests:

🎀:: A/N: first i’d like to say that i love, love LOVE getting requests! they’re so fun to write for and it makes me happy knowing you guys are enjoying the posts i write ♡

below is a guide to what i will write though so keep that in mind if you want to request an ask!

other than that feel free to spam, comment or request anything🙂‍↕️

-🎀-

🎀:: fandoms i write for:

THE MAZE RUNNER

TMR characters i write for:

gally

thomas

newt

minho

teresa

aris

don’t worry others can be put into requests, if they haven’t been specified here!

INFO to include when requesting (if you’re stuck):

when asking for angsty fics - please specify the level of angst you want me to write

when asking for a short fic please tell me how long or short you want it to go for (a rough word count!) - also keep in mind i will post whilst doing this request - so don’t be disheartened, i have NOT forgotten about the eequest its just longer fics will take up more time to write for

add the pronouns used by y/n (i usually write in 2nd POV but if you’d like 3rd person POV with pronouns just add that into the request)

feel free to ask for specific descriptions, for the reader: (e.g colour of hair, colour of eyes, your name if you’d like) !!IMPORTANT NOTE!! if you do decide to do this i will ALWAYS send it to you privately (for privacy reasons or if you feel free sharing, just say that, but if you don’t i will ALWAYS send it to you privately - if im confused i’ll send you a message and clarify things with you as well). with your written request i will also create a seperate one that doesn’t use your name and external description - i will just tag you in the seperate (non- descriptive) post and i will also not reply to the private request publicly on my account for full disclosure of privacy -

again no smut commissions are allowed in the request box - i will ignore it, and delete them - so please save yourself some disappointment and send the request to someone who can write for that type of genre

-🎀-

i’d like to say that i’m currently fixated, entirely on TMR right now but i’ll update this list if i branch out to writing for other fandoms.

don’t get me wrong, i’m apart of many fandoms - it’s just the maze runner movies/books specifically are just that one thing that gets me into a writing mood. i’m sorry for the inconvenience!!)

🎀::TO BE CONTINUED .. ♡

[minlahzz]

drew x male photographer.

requested

— FEMALE READERS DNI WITH THIS POST.

this guy was ass, and i hated him in the anime! the only thing enjoyable about him was the fact that i liked his roselia!! his thing with may was also funny to watch, but he's yk he's drew... i wrote these as headcanons, but since i barely know what this guy does (i suck at remembering) i made a scenario with 'em at the end!

— LOWERCASE INTENDED.

hmm, when thinking of drew he'd be pretty sassy and smug. when drew first spots you snapping photos of wild pokémon, his first thought is something like, “does this guy think he’s going to catch their best side?” he’s a bit smug, assuming you’re just another weirdo or somebody who only cares about fame. but when he notices the concentration in your eyes and the careful way you frame each shot, he starts rethinking things.

as he watches you photograph pokémon with genuine focus, he can’t help but be a little intrigued. drew thinks, “alright, maybe he actually knows what he’s doing.” this little realization sticks with him, and he becomes curious about what you see through the lens that makes you so passionate. he'll probably introduce himself in a weird way, like it sounds mean even though it's not. he'll even do a hair flip.

someone who does not wish to follow their dreams, or isn't confident in their talent is not worth his time. drew prides himself on his aesthetic sense, so when he sees your photos, he’s secretly impressed. “he captured roselia’s petals perfectly,” he thinks, starting to admire your talent. seeing how passionate you're to your hobby, that's probably what made him soften up to you and then start liking you.

drew will join you on your photo excursions, claiming he just wants a break from the contest scene. but it’s obvious he enjoys seeing your enthusiasm for photography. he’ll occasionally even point out great spots for capturing pokémon, trying to act like it’s no big deal.

when he’s practicing with roselia or flygon, you can’t resist snapping some shots. drew pretends he doesn’t notice, but he always tosses his hair or makes sure roselia is angled perfectly. your camera makes him feel like a celebrity, and though he’d never admit it, he loves it. this slowly grows into a habit, and drew starts standing around a little longer whenever you’re nearby with your camera, pretending he’s just hanging out. but he always makes sure to pose just right when his pokemon are with him, making it easy for you to take amazing shots. he’d deny it if you ever asked, though.

you have a few shots of drew when he’s genuinely smiling—no arrogance, no pretense. those moments are rare and precious, and drew will give a soft, appreciative smile when he sees them. It’s a reminder of how your love for photography brings out the best in him. he's not bothered that much with those hidden shots you made. like what i've said before, this guy loves to pose and his ego is high enough to support all of this.

whenever you’re unsure about a shot or want feedback, drew tries to support you in his own way. “it’s almost as good as one of my performances,” he’ll say with a smirk, but his sincerity shows through. drew would also totally brag about you to others (others being may and her gang) , even if he’d rather do it behind your back to save face.

—

you’re out exploring a grassy field at sunset, hoping to get some unique photos of pokémon in the golden light. drew tags along, claiming he’s there to “see what all the fuss is about.” but as usual, he’s subtly angling himself, making sure he’s ready in case you snap any pictures of him or his pokémon.

you spot a beautiful butterfree resting on a flower, wings catching the light perfectly. as you line up the shot, drew moves closer, watching over your shoulder. he’s clearly trying to act disinterested, but he can’t hide his curiosity.

just as you’re about to capture the perfect shot, drew (purposely) nudges your arm slightly, making you accidentally snap a picture that’s a little blurry. “oh, come on!” you complained, hitting him on the head.

“what?” drew says, grinning with a shrug. “i was just… helping.” he crosses his arms, trying to act innocent but clearly enjoying the reaction.

but the butterfree flies away, leaving you with just the blurry photo. determined, you turn your camera on drew instead. “fine, if you want to be in the spotlight that bad.”

drew was caught off–guard "HEY, THROW THAT AWAY."