#Also sorry this is days late i dropped a class LOL

[leonkennedybreedingkink]

PROXIMITY CONTROL

fboyish leon kennedy x fem!reader

notes: well gosh everyone. i’m so sorry for dropping off the face of the earth (save for a few drabbles) and getting into discourse. at least the semester is over and my stalker is back home so i don’t have to deal with him. on God im working on that leon/reader/chris threesome and also a leon/reader/woman threesome btw, i’ve also been terribly writers blocked lately…. anyway. happy fboy leon wednesday, based on some of my life :) things get a little gross here, sorry for making reader a tsunami

Can rc suburbs apartment 203 shut the fuck up. why are yall fucking in the middle of the day go to class

Someone posts on your college yikyak. You gasp and stare at your phone for a hot minute before you sprint to the shower. “Leon, Leon!” You rake the curtain to the side.

“What?” He looks at you with a bewildered tilt to his grin, still washing his hair.

“We got mentioned on Yikyak.” You hold out the phone to him, close enough that he can read it and far enough away that his shower won’t damage your phone.

Leon leans forward to read it, a soapy hand reaching out to steady your hand so he can read better. Once he processes it, he laughs, head tossed back before he rinses out his hair, shaking his head. “Oh my fucking God.”

You’re laughing too, it’s hard not to. “I fucking told you your neighbors must be sick of us.”

Leon shrugs, raking his hair back from his forehead. “And I told you, I don’t care. I don’t mind when you’re loud, that’s what lets me know you’re enjoying it.” He smirks when he catches you ogling him. “Did you hear a word I said?”

“Sure did.” You watch the water run down his front, gold chain damp and dirty blonde peach fuzz matted down with water. “You said you don’t care that I’m loud because that’s what lets you know I’m enjoying it.”

Leon gives a quiet, closed mouth chuckle as he turns off the water, pushing his hands through his hair and shaking his head before he reaches for a towel. He wipes his face on his towel first before slinging it around his shoulders. “Did you reply?”

You step aside so he can get out of the shower fully, looking at the post again as you perch on the closed toilet seat. No comments. “No.”

He scrubs the towel over his head before wiping himself down and tying the towel around his waist. Leon reaches over for his phone and pauses the music thumping from his speaker, cutting off DNA.

When you see the smug turn to his smile as he scrolls down, you realize what he’s gonna do. “Do not.” You don’t get up to stop him, though.

He gives you a sly glance, typing without looking. “Don’t what?”

“Leon Scott fucking Kennedy.” When you stand up to read his phone, he’s already commented.

#1: Neither of us have class lol

“Leon!” You swat at his shoulder and he giggles, setting his phone on his shelf and wrapping his arms around you, kissing the side of your head.

“What?”

“Fucking—“ His biceps feel so nice. He’s such a good cuddler. And he tolerates when you bite the shit out of him. “troll!”

He’s laughing again, squeezing you before letting you go and standing in front of the mirror to clean out his ears. “That’s what you came up with?”

You watch him shamelessly, brows raised and the slightest smirk across your face. “You called yourself that once. Remember when you tied that one girl's shoes together when she was arguing with her boyfriend in the dining hall?”

He keeps grinning. “Touché. And it was funny.”

“I believe you.” You perch back on the seat and scroll on your phone, pulling your necklaces from beneath his borrowed shirt with a finger.

When he’s done, he tips your chin up and leaves a kiss on your mouth. “When do you have class?”

You nudge his nose with yours. “Two-thirty, for once. It got cancelled.”

“Nice.” He kisses you again and hangs up his towel, smirking when you blatantly watch his ass, neck craned to see out of the doorway. It’s a nice ass, it’s a runner’s ass. “I don’t have class until then.”

“I know.” You leave the bathroom and head over to the living room, Leon swatting your ass as you walk by. It’s a little late for round two, but it’s just as good to cuddle and watch a movie.

He sits down on the couch when he’s done dressing, putting on one of your suggested movies and laying back, arms open. “Cmere, baby.”

Magic words. You crawl on top of him with a pleased sigh, head tucked by his chin. He rewards you with a kiss to the top of your head and wraps his arms around you, shock-blue eyes on his TV.

That was something you said the first time you met him—actually, you said that while you were about to ride him. “Good God, your eyes are blue.” Could see that even through his rainbow lights.

You fall into a short nap while the movie plays—a rare occurrence, when you’re up, you’re up. Leon idly runs a hand back and forth over your head while you doze on top of him, dropping secret kisses on your head and occasionally squeezing you closer.

He pauses the movie with forty-five minutes left and gently shifts you back and forth. “Cmon, sweetie, we gotta go.” He says uncharacteristically softly, petting your face for a moment. “We have class.”

“Mm.” You wake all at once, reluctantly catapulted into consciousness. You sit up, rubbing your eyes and stretching.

Leon watches fascinatedly for a moment before his expression shifts. “Good nap?”

“Shut up.” You get up and put everything back in your pockets—earbuds, pepper spray, lipgloss, keys—stretching out once more before you do one last sweep of his apartment.

He’s up too, shoving his feet into his shoes and gathering everything he needs—keys, airpods—before he puts on a hoodie and grabs his bag. “You ready?” He opens the case and puts one in, then holds the case out for you.

“Just about.” You take the airpod and tuck it into your ear, following him out of the door and beginning the walk back to campus with him, hand in hand.

Leon doesn’t like that you’re on the side facing the road. “Cmere.”

“Huh?” You tilt your head at him, not catching on until he shifts you to his other side, guiding you by the hand. “Oh.”

He gives you a sideways smile as the pair of you walk back to campus and you chatter to him about your upcoming assignments. You pause between the two buildings. “This is my stop.”

“Yeah, I know.” He drums his fingers on the back of your hand. “I’ll see you later, yeah?”

“I hope so.” He leans in for a sweet kiss and comes away with your lipgloss on his mouth. He licks his lips and squeezes your hand before he walks away.

You get maybe ten steps away before you remember you have his airpod. “Leon, wait!” You scamper over and pass him back his airpod.

He looks faintly amused as he tucks it back in the case. “At least you didn’t drop it in the grate again.”

You click your tongue and groan, stamping your foot once. “That was one time!”

Leon laughs, eyes crinkled in the corners before he pulls you in with an arm around your neck and kisses you goodbye again. “Okay, okay.”

One last one, one last one! You give him a kiss and playful pat on the ass. “‘Kay, bye!” You singsong, bouncing away.

“Bye,” He mimics your tone and begins his walk to his building.

OP: Still. The dick can’t be that good.

“You good?” You giggle, leaned forward as you keep riding, feet on the mattress.

Leon’s eyes are shut, mouth open in a half-smile. “You’re doing that on purpose.”

You smile too, one arm beneath his neck and the other hand on his shoulder. “Am not.” To be fair, you’re really not. Everytime you try and stop squeezing, it lasts half a second before you’re squeezing him again. This time, though, you do it on purpose. Just one squeeze, he’s hitting all the right spots anyway, he made a comment about you dripping down his balls.

Leon gives an airy groan, hands on your hips squeezing. You giggle in turn, kissing his cheek. “Sorry.”

Leon’s nothing if not participatory, it’s not long before he gets tired of giving up control. “That’s it.” He pulls you forward, arms wrapped around your waist and your knees anchored to the bed, your face smushed in the pillow—which is good, because you start squealing when he pounds into you, breathing heavily into your shoulder.

You should’ve guessed when he pulled your mouth away from his dick earlier, when things were getting started. And also when he was finished eating you out and had you writhing just by his fingers, faster is better than harder for you. You’re sure he was watching in fascination between kisses to your thighs and twitching tummy.

When you quiet down after he keeps pounding, he turns to breathe in your ear, “You want me to fuck you rough? You wanna do doggy?”

Maybe if he’d stop scrambling your brains, you could answer. Mercifully, he slows down, kissing your shoulder. “You wanna do doggy? Is that your favorite?”

Between the noises he punches from you, you manage to nod, sweat slicking your temples and hair. How many times have you came? He said four, you’re not really sure. “Uh-huh.” You shift your weight so he can get out from under you, collapsing a little once you’re on your elbows and knees and he’s behind you.

“Oh, poor baby.” Leon chuckles, smoothing a hand over your back and leaning down to kiss the back of your head. “Your legs are wobbling, huh?”

“I wonder whose fault that is.” You mutter, smiling a little blearily when he giggles before he pushes in and your shoulders tense, mouth dropping open. Usually your hair’s everywhere, but it’s up today, so he gets to see every minute detail.

“Mouthy.” He murmurs, swatting your ass and watching it jiggle as he fucks into you roughly. You hide your face in the mattress because the noises he pulls from you are embarrassing, good God. Have some shame.

Since you’ve apparently already came four times, Leon doesn’t feel too terrible about when he comes, arms wobbling with his weight as he practically folds over. “Jesus.” He pauses and gently pulls away, glancing back when you collapse on the bed.

He tosses out the condom and comes back with your water bottle. “You want some water?” Whatever didn’t make it into your half-assed bun is hiding your face as you lay like roadkill on his bed. He really tuckered you out, poor thing.

“Mhm.” You lift your head up and sip greedily from the water bottle, flopping back on the bed when you’re done. Leon puts your water bottle up on the dresser and grabs a washcloth, gently wiping you—and himself, your wetness is running down his thighs—down.

“You wanna shower?” He perches on the edge of the bed and runs a hand over your head.

“Mm, gimme a minute. I can feel my legs shaking.” You plant your face on his thigh and he smiles. Kitty.

“I wonder why.” He laughs, gently pulling some hair off your sticky neck.

You lay there for five minutes before you get up and he starts the shower, taking off his watch and leaving it on his dresser.

You divest yourself of your jewelry too, leaving both sets of earrings in a pile and your necklaces tangled up, your bracelet left to the side. You laugh a little as your legs keep wobbling once you’re in the bathroom with him. “My legs are still shaking.”

Leon looks uncommonly smug as he holds a hand under the water to check the temperature. “I wonder why.”

“I hate you.” You shake your head, adjusting your hair and pulling it up so it doesn’t get wet in the shower.

“Nah-uh.” He insists, hanging up the spare towel.

“Do so.” Leon lets you get in first and you take a chance to clean up with a little water—God, he wasn’t kidding. That’s… a lot.

When he gets in, you gravitate toward him with a soft hum, cheek on his shoulder. He wraps his arms around you and kisses your head, standing there under the warmth with you, at least until things turn a little lukewarm because his apartment’s water is temperamental.

“Turn around, I’ll clean you up.” He nudges you closer to the shower wall and you melt against it when he rubs your back, laughing to himself about you being an overgrown cat. He squirts a little bodywash on his loofah and runs it in circles on your back, then turns you around to put his soapy hands on your boobs with a wide grin.

“Oh, no, soapy boobs, my one fear.” You tease, holding your arms up and out so he can wash them.

“Mine too.” He says sincerely, crouching down and setting your foot on his knee as he washes your legs. You take the opportunity to kiss the top of his head, shifting your weight so he may wash the other one.

You do the same for him, of course, turnabout’s fair play. Once you’re done mutually cleaning one another, you lean back into him, warm and happy.

“This is nice.” He muses, dropping little kisses on your shoulder.

“Mhm.” Your eyes fall shut and you turn your head slightly to press your nose against his cheek.

It doesn’t take much for you to fall asleep later, oversleeping a little in the morning when you have class at nine.

Fucking dumbass. You knew it was going to be casual from the night you met him and consequently had sex with him. Now you’ve gotta act like your stomach doesn’t hurt every time you think about finals week and him going back home to Philadelphia.

He graduates in summer, you knew that. Anything to get out of this fucking place, not shit to do here except eat or shop, and eating is debatable.

Still, you try and make it count. You buy your first vibrator on his suggestion—he thought about a remote control one, but would it really work over two hundred miles away?—and the first time you used it with him during sex, you left a spot on his bed and genuinely saw black for a moment.

You come watch his showcase for his criminal justice class and give him a good luck kiss because you have class and you’ll watch his soon.

You two have dating allegations from not only your friends (and tablemates who confronted you before class saying you have a boyfriend, which he isn’t), but his classmates, who watch you watch him work on the presentation more times than not, especially if you’re staying over at his place later.

Still, that doesn’t fill the pit in your stomach when you consider him leaving you. You could always do the Bradshaw thing and follow him somewhere, assuming he’d drop everything for you, but let’s not put this cart in front of this horse with a fuckboy chain.

“I have news for you,” He says as you’re on the phone with him and his friend—and now you have throuple allegations, which isn’t her first time, apparently—one night.

You give your phone a bewildered look, Prince Phillip contact photo and all. Maybe if Phillip had blue eyes and Aurora weren’t blonde. “You do?”

“Yeah.” He sounds a little smug. That’s never good, because he knows you like it, no matter how much you tell him you don’t. Confidence, yes; arrogance, no. “I’m gonna be here next semester.”

Someone pinch you. Or punch you, whichever works. “Oh. Really?”

“Yeah. All eight credits.” It’s amazing he’s kept up this bravado when you don’t immediately give the reaction he wants.

“Huh.” That’s not how this works. You were totally prepared to steal a shirt of his and wear it until it smells like you instead of him, have phone sex with him, cry, and be a melancholy bitch over the summer. Guess you’ve gotta throw all that out the window. “What made you stay?”

“It’s the same amount at a community college as it would be here, so it doesn’t matter.” Some rustling on the other end, what is he doing? “Plus, I’ve gotta supervise those dummies next semester as they build on my senior project, the one you were there for?”

You sit back on your bed. “Yeah, I remember. It was a good showcase.”

There’s probably something more he’s not telling you, but Leon plays it close to the chest some days. He claims he’s nonchalant—which may be partially true, but you have good intel that he gives a shit about you at least somewhat—and oddly, claims that you’re nonchalant. And you’ve never been nonchalant a day in your life, even in the womb.

More rustling. “So I’ll be here through fall. Isn’t that exciting?”

He’s needling you like he always does. He likes reactions from people and you’re his favorite book.

You draw aimless patterns on your satin sheets, attempting to play it cool. “Yeah, it’ll be cool to have you around.” Paper thin.

“We can actually do stuff, since I’ll have a lighter schedule. Like dinner, we can check out that arcade in the mall.” He pauses and tells your friend that she should come visit so the three of you can all hang, maybe beat his ass at some arcade games. “And I think I’ll have a part-time job, so I’ll have more money and won’t be broke as fuck, like I am now.”

He’s not terribly broke, he just has to tighten the belt because he made all his money over summer and Christmas break.

You smile anyway. “I still have that point card thingy from when I went to that arcade, we could use that.”

And the conversation goes from there.

You’re a year-ish behind him, but there’s still nothing stopping you from doing the Bradshaw thing and following him to Philadelphia when you graduate. A whole lot of nothing.

[momokatzetzgo]

Thank you @ariaofsorrows for the tag!!! :D Be prepared for the most... music taste ever known to man

Rules: Pick a song for each letter of your URL and tag as many people

M - Morceau de Salon by Johann Wenzel Kalliwoda

O - Out Like a Light by Ricky Montgomery

M - Meet Me At Our Spot by WILLOW, The ANXIETY, Tyler Cole

O - Oboe Concerto in D Minor by Tomaso Albinoni

K - Kamisama no Kamisama by Hanae

A - Again by Yui

T - The Ballad of Sweeney Todd from the musical Sweeney Todd, composed by Stephen Sondheim

Z - Залврhн (Idk how to spell it in English 😭 Zalvrhn?) sung by Dzavhlan and composed by Tatiana Eyeva-Sandzhieva

E - Epiphany from the musical Sweeney Todd, composed by Stephen Sondheim (but this time it's the original run!!)

T - Trapped in the Past by Tuyu

Z - A Star by the Name of Sun (BUT starts with Z in Russian so it's okkkk) by Kino

G - Good Luck Babe by Chappell Roan

O - Oi Davno-Davno, as traditional Ukrainian folk song

Um... so as you can see my music taste is damaged beyond repair... but tbh does it need to be undamaged?? Also having two zs in my url is absolutely diabolical of me to do to myself 😭😭

I am tagging @treespen, @zhimaqiu, @yukkimitsuki, @yukinesvessel, and anyone else who wants to join in :D

[lndsismaeverything]

Lnds men taking their kids(s) to first day of school

Y'all I can't I accidentally posted this shit half way through writing. Which reminds me why I don't like writting 🫠but here yalll go

Xavier : daughter

Xavier would be the type to be waking up late for his daughter first day of school and other school days But lucky you woke them both in time before they're gonna run late , bec you had an early mission today Even if they run late your husband could just teleport with your daughter to the school "this is a crime for waking up this early just for school " you husband complain next to him was his daughter robbing her eyes with one hand and the other holding her dad hand You already prepared everything last night, packed her bags, set her uniform on the hanger and also asked her and your husband what kind of breakfast they want

You both get out of the house and head towards the elevator "Sorry I can't go with you bunbun, but daddy will drop you off " you apologize to your daughter as u can't bring her to school for the first day you give your husband and your daughter a good bye kiss before heading off in your motorcycle going the opposite direction "Looks like it's just you and me princess hold my hand and don't let go "

Sure he could just teleport there, but- " do you want me to carry you? " your daughter just nodded, with that Xavier lifted her up walked towards the school while his daughter took a lol nap on the way there

Arriving at the school and looking around which class his daughter will be staying, he puts her down and kneel to her level

" so this is where I'm going to stay in a few hours?" Your daughter looked around the classroom

Xavier just nodded and patted her head before telling " yup, just like what we talked about last night. after that I pick u up and maybe mommy too "

" okay... But promise me to pick me up in time okay Daddy " she holds her pinky out, without any hesitation Xavier wraps his pinks with hers " I promise ''

Soon after both you and your husband pick up your daughter from kindergarten.

" Daddy ! , mommy! You came in time! " she runs towards you guys and hugs both of your legs

Overall your daughter first day of school when better then her classmates. Because she didn't know why everyone cried at there parents. It's not like they leaving them there forever .

Or they didn't had the talk the night before

Zayne : son

Let's say like father like son.

It wasn't hard to wake your son up for the first day of school . Because you don't have to wake him up by the time you when to his room he was already getting dressed

So you decided to make some morning breakfast and their lunches. Breakfast was something simple , fluffy pancakes with some whipped cream and berries dusted with power sugar

As for lunch some rice with stir fried chicken with some vegetables including carrots. Even if they both don't like carrots they will eat them no matter what because you made them , and also why , you took this advantage to feed them some carrots ( bec it's good for the eyes ). But not very day, just a few time a month

After they finished eating your son and husband took their belongings and head towards the door, as you about to join them they stopped you

" my love , I think is best if you take some rest. You had a rough day yesterday. Let me take care of our lil snowflake to school "

" but it's his first day "

" it's okay mommy, dad is right you need to take extra rest and beside you can go with me tomorrow also you can pick me up after school "

What a wonderful husband and son you have taking care of you

Both getting in the car zayne check if his son putting his seatbelt on from the mirror , with that he head straight to his son school

First day of school was just like other days but just a lil different. He just had to sit at his desk and listen to the teacher for a few hour

Your son classmates where jealousy of his lunchbox , of course when they ask if they can have a bite he immediately said no, even when they asked for the carrots .

A no is a no

You son highlight of the day was when you pick him up from school and headed toward his dad workplace on your motorcycle. He likes being around his dad office learning and observing him because in the future he wants to be like his dad so he can take care of you in the future

Rafayel : daughter

Everything was going smoothly ,everything . From waking both them up and getting ready for school .

Rafayel definitely spent about half an hour dressing his pretty daughter up.

" are we going for pigtails or a messy bun orrrr braids?"

" which color bows do you want? "

" let's add some sparkles these glitter spay will do just perfect"

From eating a light seafood breakfast and heading out of the door and into his sports car everything was smooth sailing

Until you where standing at the school gates. Everyone looked at your husband sport car, you knew and HE KNEW. As it shows it on his face but don't mind him he loves the attention he's getting from the people

Looking for your daughter classroom was easy. The hardest part was letting her go and your husband to let go of her

" Rafayel, darling please let her go."

It was going well, you told your daughter that she's gonna stay here for a few hours and then picking her up. Until...

You're about to leave with Rafayel until you daughter runs up crying for the both of you. And your darling husband lost it.

You husband and daughter hugged each as you both cry creating a scene that got looks from everyone

Let's say you spend the whole 15mins to break the two of them apart with the teacher help of course. The teacher comfort her and you do the same with your daughter and husband.

Rafayel pouted the entire way to his car his red eyes are hiding behind his sunglasses

" I can't believe you Rafayel " your husband just scoffed at you as you laughed at him. He continue to opened the door for you before closing it .

Rafayel drives you to your work which u have him a kiss afterwards.

" one more goodbye kiss " it wasn't one it turned into 10

At home Rafayel watch his clock tiks , he wishes it would go afters. When it was finally time to pick you and your daughter up he was the happiest man he could be on earth

The moment your daughter and you husband eyes meet they both started running towards each other. Embracing each other like they been separated for 800years

Stylus : twin boys

It's not surprises that sylus woke up and made breakfast for all of you when you came down from the stairs as you just dress the twins up for school

You set up the table with the help of the twins of course. You put your twins lunches in there bag and you do the same with yours before heading out to the garage

Sylus debate on driving his SUV or take the bikes. You ended up with the bikes and making a wager out of it

" whoever make it there first is the victor and the last one there will grand the victor one wish" which sylus words you put on your helmet and so does the twins

" mommy vs daddy . This will be easy" your oldest said towards your youngest " get ready because mommy will win " your youngest fights back to his older twin

The race started when Mephisto cawed three times .

"Caw...caw... CAWWW" and off y'all go

Sylus ended up winning and your oldest son cheered and demanded his twin to give him his dessert for tonight . He agreed but-" next time I'll come back for your ass "

You dropped the twins in there class and sylus took some photos so he can print it and put it in his photo album, for future memories

The both of you said goodbyes to your kids and head back towards your bikes

" oh sweetie I haven't tell you want I wish for as victorious. I want us to try for another kid a daughter this time ." Feeling the heat rise up your cheeks,You punch his shoulder earning a chuckle from him " I'm being serious sweetie "

After it was time to pick up your twins from school. The both of decides it was best to take the SUV instead of the bikes

When the two of you arrived there was a sight to see. Your twins boys already a line a group. It looks like ther where playing cops and robbers in the playground . Your twin boys being the cops and some other

It looks like they where making a plan to capture the robbers. Both of them took leaderships and successfully capture all the robbers and putting them in jail

" looks like they took leadership after their father " you told your husband smiling at the twins working together

"Don't worry our daughter will take after you, sweetie" you just punch him again and called the twins as it time to go home

[lowryuk]

Yours to Break.

Pairing: Ex-boyfriend!Eren x F!Reader

Word Count: 9.3K

Summary: No matter how hard you try to stay away from Eren, he always finds a way back to you—and you always let him.

A/N: hihihiya! I hope you enjoy and if you do, please consider to like, reblog and follow :D. I’m always open to give additional headcannons on my fics, so don’t be afraid to fill up my inbox with questions or comments—I’d love to answer them! The ex!bf eren won the poll so here it is. Look forward to the jock!Eren x reader that will come out some time next week (aiming for Tuesday night). Also, thank you for all the love on “What Was Mine.” I’m super glad so many of you enjoyed it :)

Side note (read after you finish fic to avoid spoilers): I know Eren’s pretty toxic in this one (I genuinely didn’t mean to do that lol) but I promise you he gets better over time and him and reader work it out.

(Warnings are below undercut)

Warning(s): Toxic!Eren (sorry), borderline abusive relationship (Eren’s very manipulative), Violent!Eren (but not towards reader), fight scene, possessiveness, angst, jealousy from both sides, insecurity, unprotected sex (wrap your willyyy), p in v, rough sex, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, marking/biting, dirty talk from Eren, hair pulling, cum eating, fingering, finger sucking

Taglist❣️: @erenjaegerwifee, @m0chamami

Eren Yeager was your first love.

It started in high school, in a cramped math classroom where he took the seat beside you and, with an easy confidence, offered to help when he noticed you struggling. Numbers had always come naturally to him, while you found comfort in words. So when you walked into English class and spotted him flipping aimlessly through the pages of a novel he clearly had no interest in, it only made sense that he patted the seat beside him, smirking as if to say, your turn to return the favor.

He was charming in a way that felt easy, the kind of person who could make anyone laugh with little effort, who was liked by everyone without even trying. And he knew it. He took advantage of the way you got flustered when he leaned in too close, how your gaze would drop to your desk anytime he said something bold, teasing you just enough to make your stomach tighten in that unfamiliar, fluttering way.

At some point, he asked for your number. It started off as innocent as it could be—just conversations about homework and upcoming assignments, exchanging notes before tests. But before long, the texts became less about school and more about each other. Late-night messages filled with inside jokes, subtle flirting that you’d overanalyze before falling asleep.

Then, one day, he asked if you wanted to hang out after school. You said yes, and sitting in his car, parked in a quiet lot, he turned to you and asked you out on your first real date. From that moment on, Eren was yours, and you were his.

For three years, life was blissful.

Then, in your first year of university, something shifted. Eren changed.

The boy who had once been so easygoing, so secure, had suddenly become possessive. At first, it was subtle—an offhand remark about how a guy in your class seemed too friendly, a joke about how you were too nice for your own good. But soon, it escalated. If you had a male partner for a group project, Eren had to be present, insisting it was only to “keep an eye on things.” The first time he said that, you could only stare at him, stunned into silence.

He had never been this way before. He had never cared if you had male friends, never acted as if he didn’t trust you.

"Why would you even think that?" you had asked him, incredulous, because you had done nothing—absolutely nothing—to warrant the suspicion lacing his voice. But he brushed it off, called it a joke, even though there was nothing funny about the way he was suddenly scrutinizing your every move.

You should have left then. You should have realized that love wasn’t supposed to feel like walking on eggshells, wasn’t supposed to be a constant battle to prove your loyalty to someone who once trusted you implicitly. But the thought of leaving him was suffocating. You didn’t know how to exist in a world where he wasn’t yours, where you weren’t his. So, you bit your tongue every time he accused you of things you hadn’t done. You let it slide when he checked your phone, when he questioned why a guy had liked your photo, when he made you feel like you had to explain yourself for things that never needed an explanation before.

And you endured it all—until the night of your best friend’s birthday.

She had gone all out, booking a VIP section at one of the best clubs in the city, followed by a stay at a high-end hotel where everyone would unwind, sober up, and just enjoy each other’s company. The moment you told Eren about it, he made his stance clear—he didn’t want you to go. You weren’t surprised. You had skipped out on nearly every get-together in the past year to appease him, and on the rare occasions you did go, Eren had been right there with you, monitoring, hovering, making it painfully obvious that he didn’t like or trust your friends and your friends felt the same way about him.

They had been in your ear for months now, warning you that his behavior was concerning, that he was controlling every aspect of your life. The worst part? They weren’t wrong. You just weren’t ready to admit it yet.

So this time, you refused to back down. You had to go—if not for yourself, then at least for the people who had been patiently waiting for you to come to your senses.

Eren wasn’t happy, but there wasn’t much he could do about it. Instead, he settled for damage control, reminding you—no, demanding—that you answer every single one of his messages throughout the night and call him the second you want to go home and he’ll pick you up. Because god forbid you stay the night with your girlfriends. God forbid he didn’t have a grip on you, even for just one evening.

You smoothed your hands down the fabric of your dress, adjusting the hem before stepping out of your room. The black bodycon hugged every curve, accentuating the shape Eren had always been so possessive over. And judging by the way his eyes darkened the moment he saw you, that possessiveness was alive and well.

His gaze swept over you slowly, his jaw tightening. He didn’t say a word at first, just exhaled through his nose like he was biting his tongue. It was rare for him to hold back, but you knew exactly why he did—because if he started an argument now, there was a chance you’d walk out of this apartment and ignore his messages for the rest of the night.

And Eren couldn’t have that.

So instead of criticizing your outfit, he did what he always did. He pulled you into him, his hands trailing down your waist, pressing flush against the fabric he so clearly disapproved of. His lips ghosted over your cheek before dipping lower, warm breath fanning over the sensitive skin of your neck. Then, before you could react, he sucked at the spot beneath your jaw, just enough to leave a mark.

You let out a sharp whine, shoving at his chest. “Eren.”

He smirked, fingers tracing over the faint bruise he’d left behind like a signature. “M’sorry, baby,” he murmured, though he sounded anything but apologetic. “You just look so good. Smell good, too.”

You sighed, shaking your head. You knew what he was doing. He’d played this game before, trying to soften you up with kisses and sweet words, hoping you’d decide to stay in instead. But tonight, you weren’t falling for it.

“Come on, ‘ren,” you said, stepping back before he could try again. “I’m gonna be late.”

The corner of his mouth twitched downward, a heavy exhale slipping past his lips. He looked like he wanted to argue, but he must’ve realized it was pointless. Without another word, he grabbed his keys and his jacket, leading you out to the car.

The drive to the club was quiet. His hand rested on your thigh like it always did, but there was a stiffness to his touch, like he was holding something back. When he pulled up to the entrance, he reached for his phone and sent you a notification.

“There. Sent you money for drinks,” he said, his voice low. “Text me if you need anything. Call me when you leave.”

You glanced at your phone before looking back at him. His green eyes locked onto yours, intense and expectant, waiting for you to promise you’d do exactly as he asked.

You leaned in, pressing a quick kiss to his lips. “Thanks, ‘ren. I’ll see you later.”

He didn’t look satisfied, but he let you go, watching as you stepped out of the car and made your way toward the entrance.

Inside, the club was already packed. Music thrummed through the walls, shaking the floor beneath your heels as you moved through the crowd. Your friends spotted you before you even had a chance to search for them, waving you over with excited grins.

The night started exactly as planned—shots, music, laughter, all of it. You danced with your girlfriends in the middle of the club, letting loose, letting the alcohol warm your veins and wash away the stress. A few guys—friends of your friends from university—joined in, pairing off with the girls around you. You weren’t interested, content just dancing with them, but then—

You felt hands wrap around your waist.

You stiffened immediately, your body reacting before your mind could catch up. The touch was unwelcome, unfamiliar, and when you tried to pull away, the grip only tightened. The man behind you was drunk—too drunk to register your discomfort, too drunk to listen to your protests. You shoved at his arms, twisting in his grip. “Hey—let go.”

He didn’t.

Instead, he chuckled, slurring something incoherent into your ear as he held on tighter. Eventually, you stomped on his foot hard enough with your heel that he let go, but the damage had already been done. 

Somewhere in the crowd, a camera was on. 

You didn’t know who recorded it, didn’t know how it got out so fast, but somehow, the video landed in front of Eren. Some guy—one of the ones dancing with your friends—had been filming his own night, oblivious to what he was capturing in the background: you, struggling against a man who wouldn’t take no for an answer.

Eren follows that guy and by chance, viewed his story. And he saw everything.

By the time you finally ripped yourself from the stranger’s grip and rushed back to the VIP room, dragging your friends with you, your phone was already blowing up with notifications. Call after call. Message after message.

 What the fuck?

Who the fuck was that?

Pick up the damn phone.

Answer me.

Your stomach churned. You sat down, fingers flying across your screen as you started typing an explanation, but no response. You sat on the couch, in distress. Your friends pried, asking what was wrong, but you played it off, painting a smile on your face. “Nothing! I’m just a little overwhelmed from all the drinks and dancing. You guys should get some more drinks, I’ll join you in a bit.” 

The girls nod and make their way back to the bar. The moment the last girl leaves, your attention is back on your phone. 16 minutes have passed and still no response. You chew at your lip. You knew it was only a matter of time before his face appeared here. 

And you were right. 

The door to the VIP room slammed open.

Eren stormed in, his eyes locking onto yours. They were sharp, furious, burning with an intensity that made your breath hitch. You stand up to explain yourself, praying to get an explanation in before he rains hell on you. 

“Eren, I didn’t—”

“Save it,” he cut you off, voice low, edged with something dangerous. “I don’t wanna fucking hear it.”

He didn’t give you a chance to argue, didn’t wait for an explanation. He grabbed your wrist and pulled you, dragging you through the club. You followed, chest tight with unease, because you knew—knew the second you got in the car, he was going to explode.

But the universe had other plans.

Before you could reach the exit, a body stumbled into Eren’s path, swaying with the weight of too much alcohol and poor decisions.

It was him.

The same guy from before. The same hands that had grabbed at you, the same slurred voice that had whispered too close to your ear. His eyes were glazed over, unfocused, but the smirk he wore was clear as day. He was saying something, words too muddled to make out over the bass of the music, but whatever it was—Eren understood. His shoulders tensed, jaw locking so tightly it looked like it might snap. You barely had time to react, to process the moment, before—

Crack.

The first punch landed so fast, so brutally, you almost didn’t register what had happened. The guy’s head snapped to the side, his body crumbling beneath the force of Eren’s knuckles meeting his jaw. A choked grunt left his lips as he staggered back, crashing into a nearby table, sending glasses and bottles tumbling to the floor in a shatter of glass and spilled liquor.

Gasps rippled through the club. The air shifted, charged with electricity, the weight of too many eyes turning to watch the scene unfold.

But Eren wasn’t finished.

He was on him before the guy could even think about recovering. Grabbing the front of his shirt, he yanked him forward, then sent another devastating punch across his face, knuckles colliding with bone. The guy groaned, his head snapping back with the impact, but Eren didn’t stop. His rage was relentless, a force of nature that had no intention of slowing down.

Another punch. Then another.

The force of each hit sent dull, sickening thuds reverberating through the air. Blood smeared across Eren’s knuckles, staining his skin as his breathing grew heavier, more ragged.

“Eren,” you gasped, reaching out instinctively, but he wasn’t listening.

He couldn’t hear anything over the white-hot fury roaring in his ears.

The guy was barely putting up a fight, too drunk and dazed to do anything but weakly raise his hands in a feeble attempt to block the blows. But Eren didn’t care. He just kept going, pinning him to the floor with his weight, his fist drawing back once more—

Until strong arms wrapped around him from behind. The bouncer.

It took everything in him to haul Eren off, muscles straining as he pried him away from the bloodied, barely conscious man beneath him.

“Enough, man! That’s enough!” the bouncer barked, struggling to keep a firm hold as Eren thrashed against his grip.

The guy’s friends rushed to his side, helping him up, but he could barely stand, his legs wobbling beneath him as he slumped into their arms. Blood dripped from his nose, from the corner of his mouth, smearing across his cheek in messy streaks.

You swallow hard, the weight of a hundred eyes pressing into your back as you force your legs to move. Shame coils in your stomach, heavy and suffocating, burning hotter with every step you take toward the exit. You don’t need to turn around to know your friends are still watching—silent, wide-eyed, exchanging looks you can’t bring yourself to decipher.

You just keep walking, head low, body tense, each step dragging under the weight of everything that just happened. The pulsing beat of the club feels like it’s mocking you now, a steady thrum against your ribs as you push past the crowd, past the mess Eren left behind, past the whispers and the stares. The moment you step outside, the cool night air hits you like a slap to the face.

Eren stands a few feet away, back against the wall, shoulders still rising and falling with the remnants of adrenaline surging through his veins. The bouncer is in front of him, speaking low, one hand raised in an attempt to keep him grounded, to keep him from snapping again.

Eren doesn’t look like he’s listening.

His hands are still clenched at his sides, blood smeared across his knuckles, a muscle ticking in his jaw. He’s seething, barely restrained, like a live wire just waiting to spark. You hesitate for a second, nerves twisting in your gut, but then you take a deep breath and step forward. The gravel crunches beneath your heels, and at the sound, Eren’s head snaps up.

His eyes find yours instantly.

And just like that, the bouncer’s words fade into the background. Whatever thin thread of patience was keeping Eren in place? Gone.

He pushes off the wall, rising to his full height, and you swear the air shifts. The tension is palpable, thick and suffocating as he takes a step toward you. His expression is unreadable—stormy, dangerous, still brimming with barely restrained fury.

You open your mouth, not even sure what you’re going to say, but you don’t get the chance to speak.

“Let’s go.”

His voice is rough, tight, leaving no room for argument. There’s no question of whether or not you’ll follow him. It’s a command, plain and simple.

Then he turns, not waiting for a response, and starts walking toward the car—expecting you to do the only thing you can.

Follow.

But you don’t.

Not after what you just saw.

Your body refuses to obey, frozen in place as a cold, creeping realization sinks into your bones. Eren takes a few more steps, fully expecting you to fall in line like you always do—but when he doesn’t hear the familiar rhythm of your heels clicking against the pavement behind him, he stops. 

Slowly, he turns, and that’s when he sees it.

The look in your eyes.

It’s not anger. It’s not disappointment. It’s something far worse.

Fear.

His chest tightens, the breath leaving his lungs in a slow, staggering exhale.

Eren’s seen you upset before. He’s seen you roll your eyes at him, huff in frustration when he’s being stubborn, even cry when things got too overwhelming. But never—not once—has he seen you look at him like this. Like you don’t recognize him. Like you’re not sure if it’s safe to be near him.

A sharp, ugly pang of regret twists in his gut. His fingers flex at his sides, still smeared with the remnants of his outburst. He doesn’t even remember throwing that first punch—doesn’t remember the decision, just the impact, just the raw, unchecked fury that swallowed him whole the second he saw that guy put his hands on you.

This wasn’t supposed to happen.

The club doors swing open behind you, breaking the suffocating silence.

“Don’t.”

Your friend’s voice is sharp with concern, and then she’s right there beside you, eyes scanning your face before snapping to Eren. Her grip on your arm tightens slightly, grounding you.

“She’s not going with you,” she says firmly, her tone leaving no room for argument.

Eren’s jaw tenses. His shoulders rise and fall with a deep breath, but he doesn’t respond. He doesn’t look at her. He only looks at you. 

Waiting. Pleading. Silently praying for you to tell her she’s wrong. That you’re still his. That you’re coming home with him.

Your friend gently pulls you closer, lowering her voice as she leans in. “Stay with us. Stay with me,” she urges. “You know you’re more than welcome to.”

You hesitate, one last glance at Eren, but the answer is already clear. You nod.

That’s all it takes.

Your other friends begin trickling out of the club, surrounding you in a quiet show of support. And Eren—Eren just stands there, watching it all unfold. Watching as you choose to stay. Watching as the space between you stretches wider and wider, until it feels impossible to cross.

Your heart pounds against your ribs, and for the first time tonight, you feel the weight of everything settle over you. You don’t want to get in that car. You don’t want to sit in silence while he stews in his anger. You don’t want to go home with a version of Eren you don’t recognize.

Something in Eren’s face cracks. It’s small, barely noticeable to anyone else, but you see it. You see the way his brows pinch together, the brief flicker of pain behind his eyes before he locks it all away. 

Eren exhales through his nose, dragging a hand down his face. He nods once, more to himself than anyone else.

And then, without another word, he turns and walks away.

You don’t watch him go. You can’t.

Because deep down, you know.

That was the end of you and Eren.

—

The first month without Eren felt like a drug withdrawal. 

Your friends had to step in, blocking his number on your phone because they knew you wouldn’t. They were the ones who went back to your shared apartment, packing up your things and returning them to you in silent understanding—because if it had been up to you, you would have walked through that door and never left.

You weren’t strong enough to face him. To see the place where your life with him once existed.

So you let them handle it.

And in the weeks that followed, it felt like you cried enough tears to drown in.

Everything felt hollow. Your bed, too big. Your room, too quiet. Your days, a haze of exhaustion that you couldn’t shake, no matter how much sleep you got—though sleep rarely came easy. Your body ached for something familiar, something warm, something safe. But the only thing that had ever felt like home was the very thing you had to stay away from.

Eren.

Your friends were your lifeline, your anchor in the storm that threatened to pull you under. They kept you moving, kept you functioning. They took turns staying over, making sure you ate, helping you through assignments when even the simplest tasks felt impossible. They covered for you in class, took notes, did everything they could to make sure you didn’t fall apart completely.

Because you couldn’t face campus.

Not when you knew he was there.

So you hid.

You spent hours in the library, surrounded by books, teaching yourself the material from the safety of quiet corners where you knew he wouldn’t find you. Where no one would look at you with pity or whisper about what happened. Where you could pretend, just for a little while, that you were fine.

But the second month was different.

The second month, you forced yourself to return to class.

And the very first lecture you walked into—he was there.

Your heart lurched before you could stop it, the reaction so deeply ingrained that it disgusted you. Because even after everything, even after what he did, some part of you still longed for him.

But you didn’t let yourself look at him.

You didn’t need to.

You felt his eyes on you the second you walked through the door.

He was waiting for you.

You knew it before you even sat down. Before you even heard from your friends that he had been asking about you. That he had been the one sending them notes, making sure you didn’t fall behind. That he had been looking for you, searching for any trace of you on campus.

You didn’t know any of that then.

All you knew was that you couldn’t give him the satisfaction of acknowledging him.

So you took a seat on the opposite side of the lecture hall, your posture rigid, your focus locked on the professor, even as you felt the weight of his stare.

Unfortunately, avoiding him wasn’t as easy as you hoped. You had chosen your classes together, planned your schedules to align—because, back then, you had never considered a world where you wouldn’t be by each other’s side.

And now, you were paying the price.

He was in most of your classes. Which meant he was always there. Always watching.

Never approaching.

Just watching.

Sometimes he would get distracted, pulled into conversation with his friends, and you would take the opportunity to slip out unnoticed. But most of the time, you had to move. Had to find new places to sit, new spots to claim as your own. Because he had taken over the one you used to share, as if holding onto it would somehow bring you back.

But it never did. Because you knew better now.

You reminded yourself every single day that Eren was bad for you. That you left for a reason. That no matter how much you missed him, no matter how much his absence burned, going back would only mean getting hurt all over again.

And you wouldn’t survive it a second time.

By the third month, you were starting to feel like yourself again.

The ache in your chest was still there, but it was duller now—less consuming. There were even days when Eren didn’t cross your mind at all. Small, fleeting moments where you were too busy laughing with friends, too immersed in your coursework, too wrapped up in your own life to remember the ghost of what used to be.

You had caught up with all your class material, no longer drowning under the weight of everything you had missed. You even started going out again, slowly reclaiming the pieces of yourself you had lost along the way.

But parties were different.

Parties meant a high probability of running into him.

And you weren’t sure you were ready for that.

The first time your friends convinced you to go out, you had braced yourself for it—for the possibility of seeing him across the room, for the way it might send you spiraling. But he wasn’t there. Or if he was, he stayed buried in the crowd, out of your sight, allowing you to actually enjoy yourself for the first time in months.

You had smiled that night. Laughed. Felt alive in a way you hadn’t in so long that your friends took notice.

Which was exactly how you ended up here.

“I don’t know… I really don’t wanna go,” you sigh, flopping onto your bed as your best friend digs through your closet. “He’s going to be there. I know it.”

She rolls her eyes, unfazed. “And? You can’t let Eren stop you from living your life.” She turns, leveling you with a look. “You’re bound to see him at graduation. What, are you gonna skip that too just because he’ll be there?”

You glare. She has a point, but you don’t want to admit it.

“I just don’t see why we have to go to this party,” you argue, grasping at straws. “It’s a frat party for the football team’s season finale win. Eren is the quarterback. That’s literally his event.”

“Which is exactly why you should go,” she counters. “Show him you don’t care. Show him you’ve moved on.”

You scoff, unconvinced.

She sighs, dramatic and exasperated. “Besides,” she says, wiggling her eyebrows, “that cute guy from Kirstein’s party—Porco, right?—he’s gonna be there. Maybe you two can finally hit it off.”

Your stomach twists, and you don’t know if it’s from nerves or uncertainty.

You hesitate.

Because deep down, you know she’s right.

You’ve spent the last three months avoiding Eren, avoiding anything that might put you in his orbit again. But that fear has kept you from actually living, from moving forward, from proving to yourself that you can be okay without him.

And you want to be okay.

So you exhale, pushing past the doubts clawing at the back of your mind.

“Fine,” you mutter, crossing your arms. “But if it sucks, I’m leaving early.”

Your best friend grins, victorious. “Deal.”

—

You step into the crowded frat house, the noise and chaos of the party immediately hitting you. The sharp stench of alcohol, weed, and sweat clings to the air, mixing with the heavy bass of the music that rattles the walls. It’s so loud, your ears ache, and the vibrations almost drown out your own thoughts. People are packed into every corner, some stumbling around in drunken oblivion, others caught up in their own heated conversations, laughing and shouting to be heard.

Your friends immediately vanish into the mass of bodies, their laughter and voices lost in the tide of noise. You can barely catch a glimpse of their heads as they weave through the crowd. You sigh, already feeling the weight of isolation. You should’ve pregamed, should’ve had a drink or two to take the edge off, but you figured you’d be alright. Now you curse to yourself. 

The feeling of being an outsider gnaws at you as you weave your way toward the back of the house, looking for some reprieve from the madness. The music seems slightly quieter in the corner, the people fewer and farther between. You make your way to the counter, pouring yourself a crappy, sour concoction. It’s just something to occupy your hands, something to take your mind off the fact that you're surrounded by a sea of people, yet feel utterly alone.

You lean against the counter awkwardly, your fingers tapping the rim of your cup as you survey the scene. The longer you stand there, the more you realize how much you wish you didn’t feel so out of place. It’s supposed to be fun, right? You’re supposed to be enjoying yourself, yet all you can think about is what’s happening on the other side of the room.

And then you see him.

Your breath catches in your throat, and your heart skips a beat. His green eyes find yours almost immediately, locking with yours from across the room, and for a moment, the noise of the party seems to fade. It’s just you and him, that intense, familiar gaze burning into you. Your stomach flutters, your pulse quickening as you instinctively look away, embarrassed by the sheer weight of his stare. But even as you force yourself to focus on anything but him, your brain locks the image of him in that moment in a way that feels almost intrusive. You can’t unsee it.

There he is, sitting on a couch, looking effortlessly handsome as always. His friends are scattered around him, but it’s the girls that draw your attention. They’re all over him, leaning into him, touching his arm or laughing too loudly at everything he says. Their eyes are bright, eager, like they’re competing for his attention. The sight makes your chest tighten in an unfamiliar, raw way. You hate it. You hate how your stomach twists in jealousy, how your pulse spikes as you watch them cling to him, as if they’re the ones who belong there, the ones who get to be close to him.

It’s ridiculous.

You have no right to feel this way, but there it is. The jealousy. The sharp, bitter ache in your chest.

Eren, oblivious or maybe not, remains relaxed, his attention still half on the crowd and half on whatever conversation his friends are having. A beer bottle rests lazily in his hand, and yet you can’t help but feel that he’s watching you too. Noticing you. It’s like he’s waiting for you to react, to do something, anything, just so he can watch you squirm. 

So, you decide to play his game. If he’s having fun, then why shouldn’t you? The burn of his gaze on your back is unbearable, but you’re not about to let it control you. You clutch your drink a little too tightly and step toward the nearest guy—a random face you don’t even recognize. Without hesitating, you drag him to the dance floor, your body moving to the beat of the music as it blares in your ears.

The guy seems more than happy to comply, his hands moving almost immediately to your waist as you both start dancing. You can feel his eyes on you, a heat that sears through the crowd, but you refuse to give in. You tilt your head back, letting out a laugh at whatever nonsense the guy is saying, letting the music drown out the weight of Eren’s presence. You want him to see. You want him to feel the sting of watching you, of knowing he has no claim on you anymore.

The night carries on, and so does the game. You're all over the place, hopping from one group to the next—dancing with the guy, laughing with your friends, joining in on a game of beer pong. You’re doing everything you can to avoid Eren. When you make your way down to the basement for beer pong, you know before even turning around that he’s there. Right behind you, close enough that you catch the faintest trace of his cologne beneath the scent of alcohol and sweat. And because he’s there, so is everyone else. A crowd follows, drawn in by him like gravity, but you don’t care.

You don’t acknowledge him. You don’t spare him even a glance. Instead, you make it your mission to rub it in his face.

Beer pong used to be your thing. You and Eren were practically unbeatable. But tonight, you’re not teaming up with him. You find a random guy and start the game with him, your laughter filling the air as you take your shots. The game ends, and you lose—your partner was terrible, after all. But it didn’t matter because you were having fun.

Even though the guy was terrible at beer pong and completely clueless, there was something undeniably cute about him. You couldn’t help but notice the way his eyes lingered on you, like he was captivated, and the more you chatted, the more it seemed like he was genuinely into you. Honestly, it wasn’t the worst thing. He was easy to talk to, lighthearted, and in the moment, you found yourself enjoying the attention.

You stepped outside for a break, finding a chair near the backyard to cool off. The chill air did wonders against the heat of the party, and for a brief moment, you let yourself enjoy the solitude.

Of course, the rando followed. He sat down beside you, leaning back casually, his presence comfortable in a way that didn’t feel forced. You had a casual conversation—mostly about the party, how much fun you were having—but you could tell where this was going. His eyes had a certain gleam, the kind that made your stomach flip with unease but also something else—something more promiscuous.

Then, just as you were about to stand and go back inside, he leaned in closer, his voice low and smooth as he whispered, “Wanna get out of here?”

You almost said yes. Almost.

But before you could respond, a strong hand wrapped around your arm and yanked you to your feet. The sudden force took you off guard, your body jerked backward, and you barely had time to blink before you were being dragged back into the house. You glanced up, heart sinking, and sure enough, it was Eren. His grip tightened around your arm, pulling you through the crowd like you didn’t have a say in the matter.

You tried to break free, your heels digging into the floor, but it was useless—Eren’s hold was ironclad. He didn’t give you a chance to fight back, leading you down the hall toward the laundry room. The door creaked as he shoved it open, the dim light flickering above. Without a word, he stepped inside and pulled you after him, letting the door fall shut behind you with a quiet thud.

Your heart skipped, irritation flooding your chest as you pulled against him. “What the fuck is your problem?” you snapped, voice trembling with a mix of anger and confusion.

He didn’t even flinch. He stepped closer, his presence looming over you, dominating. His jaw was tight, clenched in frustration, eyes darker than you’d ever seen. You could practically feel the heat radiating off him.

"You are my fucking problem," he growled, his voice like gravel, rough and unforgiving.

The air between you two thickened, suffocating. He was close—way too close—his chest brushing yours, his breath heavy with alcohol and desperation. The faint scent of his cologne lingered in the space between you, and it hit you harder than you expected. You tried to ignore it, but it made your heart race.

He stepped forward, his eyes narrowing as his voice dropped lower. "You really thought I was gonna let you leave with some random asshole?"

You recoiled, your chest tightening with frustration. You fought the urge to push him away, the words already on the tip of your tongue. "It’s none of your business, Eren," you snapped, your own voice shaking with a mixture of defiance and frustration.

Eren’s lips curled into a humorless smile, but the anger in his eyes was sharper than ever. “The fuck it isn’t,” he spat, his voice filled with venom.

Your chest rises and falls as you try to steady your breathing, but it's impossible with Eren this close, the heat of his body searing through the tiny space between you. His jaw is clenched, eyes burning with something between anger and desperation.

"You don’t get it, do you?" Your voice shakes as you step back, putting distance between you. "You’re bad for me, Eren. You always have been."

His jaw tenses, hands balling into fists at his sides. "And you think you’re any fucking better for me?" He takes a step closer, eyes locked onto yours. "You think I don’t know how much we fuck each other up?"

"Then why do you keep coming back?" you demand, voice cracking despite your best efforts. "Why can’t you just let me go?"

Eren exhales sharply through his nose, a bitter smile tugging at his lips. "You think I haven’t tried?" His voice is rough, wrecked. "I’ve done everything I fucking can to move on. To stop thinking about you." His hands twitch like he wants to grab you, but he forces them to stay at his sides. "But every time I try, I just end up right back here. Right back to you."

Your throat tightens, and you shake your head. "This isn’t love, Eren. It’s just something we don’t know how to quit."

He exhales sharply, jaw clenching. "Maybe I don’t want to quit." His voice is rough, ragged. "Maybe I’d rather ruin myself than live a life without you."

His words slam into you like a wrecking ball, knocking the breath from your lungs. Your mind screams at you to walk away, to end this now, but your heart betrays you. You don’t move when he presses closer, don’t push him away when his fingers finally brush against your skin.

"Tell me to leave," he breathes, lips ghosting over your jaw. "Tell me you don’t want this, and I swear to god, I’ll walk out that door and never look back."

But you don’t say a word. Because you can’t. Because you do want this.

Eren sees the answer in your silence before you do. A dark smirk ghosts over his lips, a glint of triumph flashing in those wild green eyes. "That’s what I thought."

His lips are on you before you can protest, his hands gripping your waist, pulling you flush against him. The second you kiss him back, it’s over. The tension, the months of pent-up frustration, the unbearable need—you both snap. Months of anger, heartbreak—it all ignites in a way that’s so ferocious, so consuming, that your knees nearly buckle beneath you.

His hands are everywhere—gripping your waist, sliding up your sides, pulling you impossibly close until there’s not even an inch of space between you. You’re supposed to shove him away. You’re supposed to hate him. But when his hands slip down, fingers digging into your thighs, lifting you onto the edge of the dryer, you don’t protest. You can’t.

“Fuck, I missed this,” he breathes against your lips, his voice rough, desperate. His hands tighten around your thighs, spreading them so he can step between them, pressing himself against you. “Missed you.”

Your fingers tangle in his hair, yanking him back up so you can crash your lips onto his again, swallowing the low groan he lets out as you roll your hips against him. His grip tightens—possessive, desperate—as he presses you harder against the cool metal, his body heat swallowing you whole.

“This whole time,” he mutters against your lips, voice low and wrecked, “you’ve been acting like you can move on, like you’re fucking over me.” His fingers dig into your hips, keeping you right where he wants you. “But I see you, baby. You burn for me just as much as I burn for you.”

You hate how true it is. Hate how easily he reads you. 

His hands slide up your thighs, bunching up your dress, fingers teasing along the bare skin underneath. His lips are everywhere—trailing down your neck, over your collarbone, his breath hot and heavy against your skin.

“Tell me to stop,” he murmurs, his voice all smooth arrogance, all cocky challenge as he drags his lips back up to your ear. “Go ahead. Push me away. Walk out that door.”

Your breathing is ragged, your fingers curling around the fabric of his shirt like it’s the only thing keeping you upright. You should push him away. You should leave.

But instead, you whisper, “I hate you.”

Eren smirks. “Liar.”

Then his hands are on you again, and this time, there’s no stopping it.

“Eren—” you whimper.

“Shh.” His teeth graze the side of your throat, nipping at your skin before soothing it with his tongue. His breath is hot against your ear, sending a violent shiver down your spine. “You can pretend all you want, but I know you, baby.” His hands slide higher, thumbs brushing over sensitive skin, making your breath hitch. “I know you still belong to me.”

Your nails dig into his shoulders as he presses his body against yours, hips rolling forward in a slow, deliberate grind. The hard press of him makes your breath stutter, makes heat coil deep in your stomach. You arch into him as he sucks a mark onto your skin, claiming you in a way that makes your head spin.

“You gonna keep lying to me, baby?” Eren mutters, voice thick with amusement. His fingers trace slow, lazy circles over your thighs, his movements teasing, controlled.

You open your mouth to snap at him, to tell him to shut up, to stop playing games—but before you can, he grabs the thin fabric of your dress and rips. The sound of tearing cloth barely registers before his hands are on you, gripping your breast, his mouth attaching to your sensitive tit. 

You gasp, fingers curling into his shoulders, legs wrapping around his waist, bringing him impossibly closer. He rolls his hips into yours, pressing the full length of himself against you, a broken whimper slips past your lips.

"Feel that?" he breathes, voice thick with need. "All for you, baby."

Then his fingers finally move between your legs, brushing over your thin, damp fabric keeping him from what he really wants. His smirk deepens. "Tell me what you want. Beg for it."

Your breath stutters. He’s playing with you, dragging this out just to watch you fall apart. You hate him. You hate how good he is at this—how he knows exactly what to say, exactly how to touch you to make you melt.

But you’re not giving in that easily.

“Fuck you,” you snap, but it comes out shaky, breathless—less of a threat and more of a plea.

Eren grins, like he’s thriving off your frustration, like it only makes this better for him.

“Oh, you will,” he purrs, dragging his lips down your jaw, your throat, sucking another mark onto your skin like he wants it tattooed there. His teeth graze your pulse, and you can’t stop the way your body jerks toward him.

“Fuck,” he groans, pressing his forehead against yours for just a second, his grip tightening. “Look at you.” His fingers press against the wet spot, slow and teasing, and you whimper. His favorite sound. “So fucking wet for me, and you wanna sit here and tell me you hate me?”

You bite your lip hard, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a response.

But then he hooks a finger under the waistband of your panties, pulling it down, and fuck—

“You’re soaked, baby,” Eren moans like it’s the hottest thing he’s ever seen, his head tipping back, his fingers barely dipping into your heat. “God, I fucking knew it.”

Your body betrays you, bucking against his hand, and Eren laughs. 

“There she is,” he murmurs, lips brushing against your ear as he slowly, slowly drags his fingers up your slick folds. “Knew you’d stop pretending eventually.”

You should tell him to shut up. You should shove him away.

But when two fingers slip inside you, curling just right, pressing against that spot that makes you see stars–

All you can do is moan his name.

And Eren loses it. 

“Fuck, baby,” he groans, lips crashing into yours again, swallowing every sound you make. His fingers fuck into you, deep and slow, his palm rubbing against your clit just enough to make you tremble. Your hands claw at his shoulders, your head falling back against the dryer as he works you open, stretching you out with his fingers, his mouth kissing your pretty titties before trailing down to your belly button. You’re falling apart, barely holding on, your whole body trembling, burning.

And Eren knows it. Feels it.

“That’s right, baby,” he whispers, voice thick, lips dragging back up so he can see your face as his fingers fuck into you harder, deeper. “Cum for me.”

And you do.

Your body shatters, waves of pleasure crashing over you so violently you think you might black out. Eren groans as you clench around his fingers, watching every second of it with hooded, hungry eyes, like he’s memorizing the way you come undone for him.

“Fuck, that’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen,” he breathes, his free hand cupping your jaw, forcing you to look at him as he drags you through it, fucking you with his fingers until you’re shaking, whimpering, completely wrecked.

Then—without breaking eye contact—he pulls his fingers out, glistening with your release, and licks them clean.

Your whole body burns at the sight.

Eren groans, closing his eyes briefly before he looks at you again, smirking. “Goddamn. You taste even better than I remember.”

You’re still gasping for air when his hands grab your thighs, pulling you flush against him again.

“My turn, baby,” he murmurs, his voice thick with need. He grinds against you, and fuck—he’s so hard it makes your mouth go dry. “This is what you do to me.”

Your head is still spinning, but when you feel him reach for his belt, your heart beats faster. Eren’s belt hits the floor and your whole body tenses, every nerve ending on fire. Your thighs are still shaking from your last orgasm, but Eren—cocky and relentless—grins down at you like he’s just getting started.

“We both know you’re not leaving until I’ve fucked you so good you forget why you left me in the first place.”

You don’t get a chance to argue because suddenly his hands are gripping your thighs, yanking you to the edge of the dryer, forcing your legs wide open. And then—fuck—he’s pushing inside, and your brain short-circuits.

You can’t think. You can’t breathe. You can’t do anything but gasp as Eren buries himself inside you, slow and deep, stretching you in a way that has your head tipping back, your fingers clawing at his shoulders.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Eren groans, his forehead dropping to yours, his hands digging into your waist like he’s losing his mind. “Still so fucking tight.” Your breath stutters. Your legs tremble. And then Eren pulls out just to slam back in, knocking the air straight from your lungs.

Your nails dig into his skin, and Eren grins like he loves it. “Yeah? Feels good?” he pants, dragging his lips down your throat, sucking another mark into your skin. “Tell me, baby.” You can’t form words. Can’t do anything but whimper, moan, cling to him like you’ll fall apart if he stops.

Eren fucking thrives off it.

“C’mon, use that pretty mouth, sweetheart,” he taunts, rolling his hips in a way that has your whole body convulsing. “Tell me how much you fucking love this.”

You want to fight it. You want to bite back.

But then he grinds deep, his fingers brutal on your thighs, and—fuck—you break.

“So fucking good,” you gasp, damn near crying as your head tips back, giving yourself over to him completely. “Eren, please.”

Eren’s groan is animalistic, his grip tightening as he picks up the pace, snapping his hips into you over and over, fucking you so deep you see white. “Yeah? Missed this cock that much?” he growls, his teeth grazing your ear, his breath hot against your skin. “Missed me that much?”

Your whole body shudders because—fuck—you did. You hate how much you did. Eren knows.

“That’s what I thought,” he murmurs, grabbing your jaw, forcing your teary, fucked-out gaze on him. “You can’t stay away from me, baby. You never could.”

His thumb brushes your lips, and without thinking, you part them, sucking it into your mouth, letting your tongue flick over the tip. Eren’s breath stutters. “Fuck,” he chokes out, his body trembling against yours as he watches you. “You’re gonna fucking kill me.”

You smirk, flicking your tongue against his thumb again, and Eren snaps. His pace turns brutal, desperate, unhinged, his grip bruising as he drives himself deeper, harder, faster, like he’s trying to ruin you. Like he’s trying to make sure you never forget who you belong to. 

“Not letting you go again,” he pants against your lips, each word punctuated by a sharp, punishing thrust. “Not fucking happening.” The dryer beneath you shakes, slamming against the wall by the force of his thrusts. You break around him, legs trembling, body shaking, a sob of pleasure ripping from your throat.

Eren follows seconds later, burying himself as deep as he can groaning, “fuck, m’gonna breed this fucking pussy. Make you all round and full with my kid. Bet you’d fucking love that shit.” He bites down on your ear, his whole body tensing as he spills inside you. 

And even then, even when he’s breathless and spent, he doesn’t let go.

His arms stay wrapped around you, his lips press against your forehead, his breath warm and heavy against your skin.

“You’re mine,” he whispers, softer now, rough fingers tracing lazy patterns into your back. “Always have been.” And this time, you don’t argue. Because fuck, you know it’s true.

You look up at him, wrapping your arms around his neck, and for a brief moment, you let yourself savor the feeling of being close to him again. But that moment is short lived. His mouth crashes onto yours once more, swallowing any protest, any resistance. You whine against him, the sensitivity of your body only driving him further.

Without warning, he thrusts back into you—hard, deep—your gasp echoing through the room. Your nails dig into his back, and his body presses against yours, moving in a slow, deliberate rhythm, as if savoring every inch of you. You can feel the muscle in his body, each movement setting fire to your senses.

The stretch is almost too much, overwhelming in the best way, and you can't help but chant his name, your body trembling beneath him. It feels like too much, but at the same time, you crave more. God, the way he makes you feel, you can’t fucking deny it anymore. 

Eren pulls back for a second, his breathing ragged, and looks at you, his eyes filled with hunger. “Say it. Say you need me, say you fucking belong to me.” His voice is rough, almost begging, but not quite. It’s a demand wrapped in raw desire.

“I need you,” you gasp, your head thrown back, lost in the feel of him inside you, his cock hitting all the right spots. “I belong to you.” The words come out in a breathless rush, and it feels like every part of you is finally breaking apart—letting go.

His grin is triumphant, dark, like he’s just won something, but he doesn’t slow down. No, he’s persistent. His thrusts are harder, faster, making your body jerk against the dryer, the sound of skin meeting skin echoing in the confined space of the laundry room.

“You’ll never get away from me again,” Eren growls, his grip tightening on your thighs, pushing you up against him harder. “I’m not letting you leave. Not this time.”

You can’t answer. The words are lost in the swirl of sensations, the overwhelming pleasure coursing through you. But when you feel yourself about to break, when your body tightens and your heart skips a beat, you know the end is near.

“Eren, I can’t—” you try to warn him, but it’s too late. You’re spiraling.

And then, he moves faster—deeper—pushing you over the edge. You explode around him, your entire body shaking as you scream his name, clinging to him like he’s the only thing that keeps you tethered to the ground.

He follows shortly after, his own release deep inside you, his body shuddering with the force of it. He collapses against you, his forehead resting on yours, both of you gasping for breath, tangled together in a mess of sweat and desire.

For a few moments, neither of you moves. The only sound filling the quiet room is your heavy breathing and the slow, steady hum of the dryer spinning behind you. Eren shifts, pulling you up against him, and you can feel his warmth as he wraps his arms around you. He grabs a shirt, handing it to you, and you pull it on before he tugs you back against his chest.

There’s an elephant in the room, and you don’t fight it. You can’t stop yourself from saying, “Eren, we can’t just pretend this is...”

He cuts you off before you can finish. "I know. I'm getting help."

Silence fills the space between you, the weight of his words settling around you like a heavy fog. Then he speaks again, voice raw, vulnerable.

“The night we broke up, the look in your eyes... it haunts me every single day. You were scared of me. And all I wanted to do was protect you. When that happened, I knew I needed help. And fuck, I’m so sorry.”

He holds you tighter, burying his face in your hair. It’s rare for Eren to be this open, this vulnerable with you. The only other time he’d ever let his walls down like this was when he found out about his dad’s affair. He’d taken it hard, and all he wanted was for you to hold him, console him. And that’s what you did.

“I’ve been going to therapy. I bottled up all my emotions, and the shit with my dad sent me into a spiral. I saw what it did to my mom, how it affected her, and I started thinking if I controlled you, you wouldn’t hurt me like that. Now, when I think back, I realize how fucking dumb that was. You’re everything to me. So precious, and I can’t stand the thought of losing you.”

He pauses, his voice shaking slightly as he continues. "But I did. I pushed you away, and I was out of my fucking mind. I get it if you don’t want to jump right back into this, but... with time, could you give me another chance?"

You look up into his eyes, your thumb brushing away the tears that streak down his face. Your heart aches seeing him so vulnerable.

“I’m sorry you had to go through this alone, Eren," you whisper softly. "I wish you’d let me be there for you.”

He shakes his head, pulling you closer, his hands trembling. "Don’t apologize. This is all on me. I just… I can’t fucking lose you. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me."

“You’re not losing me," you say, your voice firm but full of tenderness, trying to calm him down and reassure him. Eren stares at you for a moment, his lips parting slightly before he breathes out, barely a whisper, “I love you.” Your heart stutters in your chest, the words you've been longing to hear for these last few months. You lean in, your forehead resting against his as you whisper back, “I love you too. Everything’s gonna be okay.” 

[v1sexual]

always forever ; vi (arcane) part three !

a collection of (modern) domestic life activities with vi ! college au , modern au , self indulgent

part one, part two, part three, part four soon !

note : this one’s a short one *sighs* i promise part four will be longer (& juicier, can’t wait for vi to meet the parentals)

content warning : swearing, nsfw (will let you know when the nsfw content starts!)

drable three : officially yours

ꕀ girlfriend vi ! who ever since you guys made it official(ish), became more comfortable in parading around the apartment shirtless. sometimes she’ll have a sports bra on or a wrap around her chest, but most of the time she’d just have her bare titties out (especially during warmer weather). sometimes when you scold her, she’d even joke around and ask you to join her. “free the nips baby!”

ꕀ girlfriend vi ! who’s your stereotypical masc lesbian. hello ?? the red/pink hair color, the one side of her head shaved, the tough exterior but is actually a softy deep down? i mean the woman looks tough and acts tough. despite that though, vi would 100% combust and explode into flames whenever you call her “my pretty girl”, “my baby”, “my girl/girlfriend”, most especially when you call her “my pretty violet”. if vi was a cut she’d be purring whenever she’s around you, if she was a dog her tail would be wagging 24/7z

ꕀ girlfriend vi ! who definitely has attachment issues :( she hasn’t really opened up everything about her past (which you don’t mind, you know that she’ll tell you eventually when she’s ready), but you know that something bad has happened in her childhood that affected her mentally.

ꕀ ever since you and girlfriend vi ! became a couple (officially), you noticed how she became clingier and touchier than usual. cooking? doing the dishes? rest assured that vi would be standing behind you. her front against your back as her head rested on top of yours, her arms resting around your waist. showering? taking a soak in the bath tub? the next thing you know vi would be knocking on the door and asking if she could join you.

during times where she felt as if she’s being too much she would try to distance herself, which you’d notice of course and it would always end up to you two cuddling. you know damn well that you’re as clingy as her.

ꕀ girlfriend vi ! who has never slept in her own bed ever since she told you she loved you. to be honest, it doesn’t really matter where she sleeps as long as it’s next to you. staying over at ekko’s for band rehearsals? you bet your fine ass she’s crashing there as well. visiting your childhood home for the weekend? your phone would always end up dead in the morning, the battery drained from being on call with vi the whole night.

ꕀ girlfriend vi ! who loves spoiling you. during the days where she’d wake up earlier than you (because of rugby or hockey practice), she’d always make sure to drop by the coffee shop you fell in love with to grab you your usual coffee and pastry combo. whenever she’s running late and doesn’t have the time to wake you up, she’d leave the food on your bedside table accompanied by a sticky note containing her scribbled handwriting.

to: the prettiest girl

from: the love of your life :p

good morning baby :D i hope you had a good sleep (pretty sure you did, you snored so loud last night lol) anyways, sorry for not waking you up and giving you the pastry and coffee. we finished practice late and i had to attend heimerdinger’s class :< i hope you have an amazing day mi luv <3 enjoy the food.

p.s pls text me when u wake up ;)

ꕀ girlfriend vi ! absolutely loves buying the two of you matching outfits, especially if they’re the stupidest, funniest, brainrot thing ever. she got you two matching fairy princess batman boxers, hello kitty x batman pjs, and the corny sexual shirts from spencers. she’d also plan couple halloween costumes in the middle of december.

“baby! i know what we’re gonna be for halloween next year?”

“omg what??? i love matching costumes.”

“sukuna and cinderella!! i can be sukuna and you’ll be cinderella of course.”

“… what?¿”

ꕀ girlfriend vi ! who loves taking you out for a late night drive, especially if you haven’t seen each other the whole day because of school, work, and extracurricular activities. vi hates it when she doesn’t get to spend time with you (yes, cuddling in bed before sleeping isn’t ‘spending time with you’). when both of you are finally home, she’ll offer to take you out for a drive immediately. doesn’t matter what you guys do or where you guys go, vi did not care.

feeling down in the dumps? had a rough day? failed a test? your girlfriend would immediately take you on a 30 minute drive to the nearest beach to stargaze (and maybe take a quick dip). hungry? vi will drive you downtown to ya’lls favorite fast food joint that’s open 24 hours.

ꕀ i think we all agree that girlfriend vi ! is a gamer. she has a gaming setup that costs around $5000 (probably more tbh), a ps5, and fucking nintendo switch. one day you got curious and asked vi to teach you how to play some of her favorite games and boy was she ecstatic ya’ll basically spent the whole day playing games, switching from the ps5, to the switch, and even her pc.

! nsfw !

ꕀ girlfriend vi ! is a munch. there. i said it.she LOVES eating pussy. i don’t make the rules

ꕀ girlfriend vi ! is a giver. she’d rather go down on you than you down down on her. despite that, she doesn’t really mind you eating her out (especially when you 69).

ꕀ girlfriend vi ! is definitely a switch, but tops you most of the time. tbh she’s a service top. anyways, she absolutely loves it when you ride her and sit on her face. something about you showing the tinniest bit of dominance makes her pussy drool, oh lawd she coming.

ꕀ girlfriend vi ! who loves your titties. rest-assured that she’ll either have her hands or her mouth on them all the time.

ꕀ sex with girlfriend vi ! be so good that it feels like two cis women might actually make baby.

ꕀ girlfriend vi ! likes it rough, but still prefers soft vanilla sex. her fave position (other than 69) is missionary, she loves seeing your face (especially when you come).

ꕀ ya’ll this woman’s stamina though. girlfriend vi ! can go for hours and multiple rounds. i mean she does play rugby & hockey, so it makes sense. its still crazy how long she can last though.

ꕀ girlfriend vi ! is an absolute sweetheart. aftercare is always a must. she’d wipe you down, runs you a bath (when you’re not too tired), would get you water and food as well. cuddles after sex is a must as well.

[booliuu]

∘₊꒰ Eyeless Jack Headcanons!! ꒱∘₊

ꪆৎ 𝙰/𝙽 : i’m back!! writers block has been really bad lately and work has been keeping me busy🤕🤕. im sorry about not posting for a while but i’m here to post again!! :DD enjoy my ramblings of one of my favorite crp’s!✨😌 heavily inspired by a bunch of films i was watching last weekend and while watching them , it made me think of jack lol. by the end of the films, i had A LOT of headcanons already written in my notes app lmaoo .

✰ - next creep’s i’m going to write about is either bloody painter , homicidal liu, possibly x-virus!! so keep a look out :3<.

warnings: talks of cults , a bit of bl*od. lmk if i’m missing anything ^^.

my inbox is open for asks!! if you like my content don’t forget to like , comment , & reblog❤️. enjoy reading!

* pictures: from pinterest🩵 (i don’t know the artist for this gorgeous ej fanart but if you do know pls comment!! thx <3. )

💉. . . Full name : Jack Nyras.

💉. . . doesn’t like the name or being called eyeless jack generally speaking because he doesn’t like thinking about his past..

💉. . .so he goes either by jack or ej!! :DD

💉. . . age: mid 20’s (24-26).

💉. . . bisexual!!

💉. . . nocturnal!! he’s not.. (more like never) out during the day because his poor eye sight make him very sensitive to light . buuut..!! most definitely catch him walking late at night around the mansion or the woods.

💉. . . his normal get up is a baggy black hoodie ( bro it’s looks comfy as hell i’m jealous..!!) , underneath the hoodie is a turtleneck , wears black baggy jeans, his mask , and combat boots. ( also carries his signature weapon which is a scalpel ^^ .)

💉. . . i headcanon him that he can somewhat see. lemme elaborate on that rq.

➯ don’t get me wrong it’s not clear at all, sees very little of his environment. it’s very..i mean very burry so he heavily relies on his other senses such mainly his ears , his hands , & echolocation!!

💉. . . gets really bothered by the black goop that comes out of his eyes lol. it pisses him off so bad liiike when he’s working on someone’s wounds… oooh boy..

💉. . . especially when it gets in his medical equipment, the bandages that he uses for the creeps … ect ect..

💉. . . has reallyyy sensitive ears!!.. which means he can hear pretty dang good. like it’s really impressive^^ i’m talking if your one of his victims…. your screwed bro idk what to tell you. your days are numbered by a couple of seconds 😔 until he catches up to you lol.

💉. . . has sharp nails it’s close to claws ngl, that can pretty much tear up anything up easily. such as human flesh…

💉. . . before he come a demon, he was studying in the medical field and trying to get a degree..!! (⌒▽⌒)♡

💉. . . not really knowing what major or department specifically what he should put his time and effort on.

💉. . . so he kept joining and dropping different classes and courses bc he can’t make up his mind .. all he knew is that he wanted to help people and make the world a better place.

➯ however it mostly stems from his parents specifically his mom that had really big academic expectations for him at a young age . growing up he’s very quiet and kept to himself . literally perfect grades and at least knows an instrument that his mom made him learn.

➯ when he got older, his mom pushed him so much to join the medical field ( bc she couldn’t due to her pregnancy ) and if he mention any other classes it’s immediately denied.

➯ his parents didn’t have the best education growing up so when they have there son, it’s kinda thing where they pushed him to make up what they didn’t have.

💉. . . his thoughts mainly consist of if he should become a nurse , doctor, an assistant, or even if this is the right path he should be taking ect.. ect.. he wanted to join other classes & majors but his parents ( who were paying for his school) pushed him to stay in the medical field so he really didn’t have a choice..

💉. . . he didn’t really have much friends nor (except a little friend group he doesn’t see often but once in a blue moon yk?) even interested in dating bc he was really occupied with his own studies to even care about what’s outside of that if that makes sense.

💉. . . ok lemme TAAAALK.. liiike 👉👈 heeear me out yall

💉. . . he was most likely those guys that MANYYY PPL in his college had crushes on😭😭. because he’s cute and mysterious no lie …. manyof them admired him for his knowledge and passion for his projects , his papers , ect…

💉. . . a honest definition would be hot nerd. doesn’t really talk to anyone but only if the professor calls him though , gets work done, doesn’t care too about his looks but ppl think he’s cute but when the professor calls on him.. he can TAAALK FOR HOURS ON GHE TOPIC LIIIKEEE ..

💉. . . FINE SHYYYYTT😮‍💨😮‍💨 he still is lol .. OKOKOK anyways…

💉. . . let’s just saaaay … he had A LOT of secret admires he doesn’t even know about let’s be for reeeeal.. 💔💔

💉. . . anyways back in the topic in hand, he has major trust issuesss.. to the max. for real.

💉. . . like i’m talking it’s going to be a WHOLE while for him even consider yourself as a friend. has a lot of metal packaging. so be ready for that.

💉. . . but once you become his friend or even loverrr, he is very sweet and chill. a bit awkward too lol. will teach you medical advice, care , or random medical stuff that he just learned from somewhere or back when he was in college .

💉. . . he’s giving black cat energy, but in actuality he’s pretty nice once you get to know him. granted he does have a cold and sadstic side to him that he saves for creeps he doesnt like. *cough* JEFF , the rake* cough

ok some angst… we’re going to talk his past.

- ‼️i just want to say i couldn’t find eyeless jack’s original lore post so im sorry if this is not accurate >< !! im wring this based on memory !

💉. . . he become the way he is because his “friend” told him one night while hanging out in his dorm to join him to this festival that’s far away from the town that the college is. heavily suggested ( boarder line forced him-) for him to come visit there “family”.

💉. . . little does jack know it’s a cult… his friend trick him to go because his friend thought he would be a prefect candidate for there ritual …

💉. . . while there, jack didn’t know it was a cult but just thought it was just a family festival that’s comes every so often.. that has very weird gatherings and events happening but he didn’t think much of it… until it was too late.

💉. . . until that night that turn him into what he is right now. all he could remember is everyone is in robes covering there faces and surrounding him in a circle, him tied tightly on a chair and in front of him is a man that has a scooper and bowl.. for his eyes..

💉. . . after his transformation, his friend didn’t believe what he saw and basically ran away. for jack.. he didn’t let that slide. little does his friend know jacks hearing & smell has greatly changed so long story short it didn’t take long to find him .

💉. . . after finding him he k*lled the rest of the cult and join slender shortly afterwards …

end of angst 𓂅₊ ⊹𓄹 . . .

💉. . . now that he’s a demon, his physique has changed from when he was human.

💉. . . for starters , he’s much more taller. he used to be 5’10 or somewhere around that. now he’s standing 6’5 or even taller. oh lord . he even can tower most creeps in the mansion . but he’s not close even slender or LJ’s height.

💉. . . his skin much more darker and grayer, nails are longer and sharper, his teeth.. PH MH GOD it’s much more keen. capable of biting through anything. i dare say it’s much more like fangs. ears that can practically hear your own heart beat /or foot’s steps even though your far away from his reach. basically everything of his anatomy has changed.

💉. . . he knows his hearing and sight has changed for the better (../or worse honestly ), his goal is to not make it his weakness. he knows to many creeps that will take advantage of this.

💉. . . his medical room. don’t get me started. you think it’s messy, smells bad , blah blah blah…. everything is disorganized and cluttered.

💉. . . listen. he didn’t take and paid those medical classes he took in college to come to waste.

💉. . . it’s literally the equivalent of medical rooms that you see in hospitals or clinics in normal day society.

💉. . . liiike every medical supply neatly organized in there own bins tucked away in shelves, emergency kit, it even smells/looks like how an examination rooms that you go for check ups. sterile and a mixture of different kinds of cleaner products he “collected more like stole” bc he can’t stand a mess. ☺️

💉. . . i feel like his hands are really steady. granted his nails are pretty long but that doesn’t stop him from taking his time to make a good stitch.

💉. . . his handwringing depends on the situation. like if he’s in a rush he’ll write like how doctors write medication or proscriptions. ( like it’s very unreadable and scribble looking. .) very messy cursive lol. but if he’s taking his time then it’s really neat and writes as if he’s writing another paper for college even though.. he’s not in school… and uses words that not many creeps know lmfaooo.

💉. . . did i mention he really toned. probably not but now where in the topic let’s talk about it. :D .

💉. . . dudes is so jacked. not gym bro jacked though ew . after the years of hunting victims down and gets the food he needs to survive. missions . all that chasing and running. yeah . basically tone af. can run for lonnnggg while. especially when he’s hungry.

💉. . . cat person. highkey i standby that he pets every single cat he see chillin around the forest.

💉. . . he’s friends with the quiet creeps. such as bloody painter (helen) , liu , hoody (if he passes by the mansion), jane , clockwork , nurse ann and slender. i say slender bc he gifted him seedeater and luvs him so much.

💉. . . doesn’t wears his mask all the time. before though, he doesn’t show it but he’s really insecure about the black goop that leaks out of his eyes.

💉. . . it took him a couple of months or longer for him to register in his mind that he’s demon now. no turning back. AVOIDED mirrors like the plague for a while because he can’t stand that’s him now. :,(

💉. . . in his bedroom he keeps medical books about endless topics in shelves ( in alphabetical order mind you) that takes up some a lot of his space . reads them whenever there’s nothing to do or he’s bored ( which is rare ngl because there’s ALWAYS someone that need medical attention asap or commotion going on in the mansion. )

➯ his room i would say he has two LARGE book cases filled with medical textbooks . a single window that always keeps close and owns black out curtains ( he’s eye sight is a bit sensitive to light.. ) and yk the usual bed , lamp, and corner bathroom where one of his mini fridges is located in a hidden cabinet.

💉. . . his favorite color is deep blue and red. :]

💉. . . he always has stuck ups of kidneys in jars kept in a mini fridge tucked away in his bedroom or his medical room.

💉. . . but in the rare occasions he’s running low on food. he always carries a small scalpel and equipment for stitches with him whenever he’s out looking for ppl to stalk.

💉. . . i don’t think he’s kills them though useless slender tells him too. since he has the medical knowledge how to operate on a human. he only needs a kidney. at least one.

💉. . . once he locked in with a victim. he’ll wait until they fall deeeeep asleep. . and will make his way in by break in a window or door quietly.

💉. . . when he’s near your bed, he’ll flip carefully and cautiously move you to your side. i say carefully bc he doesn’t want you to wake up..! but if you did he’ll knock you right out. it’s quite simple.

💉. . . puts his gloves on and gets his scalp to make an incision on your lower back. once’s he gets there i mean it’s his now kidney, he quickly make a secure stitch that won’t open up.

💉. . . you’ll wake up to the feeling of stitches on your back and lower back pains. then questioned why your window is open until your eyes landed on a bloody sticky note.

💉. . . - it’s written, “thanks for the snack.” . ( hey least he’s nice about it ..!!)

💉. . . but if it’s slender that sends him away on missions, he carries a combat knife. and gets the job done. quick & easy . but if your asking me i think his nails and teeth is all he needs. his grip is s t r o n g. teeth ready to bite on flesh. like you can’t get away from him once he has you pinned down bro.

💉. . . he uses his medical knowledge for the better and sometimes worse i dare say. since he can’t go to college anymore , his education stopped and couldn’t get his degree. so he stocks up on any medical books he can gets his hands on. like i said before he’s very passionate! his knowledge won’t stop from there but will continue to grow as time goes on.

💉. . . puts effort on whatever wounds the creeps have. whenever they come back complaining how in pain there in or there coming to him again. he puts whatever item he has in hand. shakes his head and signs. very quietly. acts he annoyed but he’s not ><.

💉. . . working on there wounds , he mumbles he’ll never treat them again… but that’s a lie. :) he always willing to help them with their wounds. just too stubborn to admit it lol.

𝚍𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚍𝚜: @/zerowhy & @/aquazero.

ꪆৎ 𝙰/𝙽 : i hope you guys like these headcanons!! as much as i do <33. like i said b4 im working on a bunch of other crp’s headcanons ( this maaay.. become a series who knows lol🧐🧐.) anywaysss liu out!

if you like my content please don’t forget to like , reblog , and comment ^^.

liuuboo2025 ♡ﾟ

[munsonify]

lost bracelet

pairing. steve harrington x fem!reader

summary. after finding a lost bracelet at a house party, steve keeps ahold of it in hopes someone comes looking for it. luckily for him, he notices that the pretty girl at the video store with a matching necklace.

genre. fluff

tropes. meet cute (kind of)

content warning/s. alcohol and weed consumption, making out and sexual touching (in a flashback), not proofread lol.

word count. 1448

disney princess collection

A shiny, dainty bracelet dangled, hooked on a loose screw on the brown banister of Mike Lewinski’s house. It was late, streetlights shining through the houses front doors. Even through Steve’s slightly drunken haze, the silver jewelry caught his eye quickly. The streetlights shined perfectly as it caught the dangling beauty.

Steve stumbled over slightly to the banister, thick fingers grasping at the bracelet gently as he admired it. The design looked familiar - small multicolored flowers dangling from the chain. He admired it, thoughts racing and blurring together as he tries to piece together where he’s seen this bracelet before. With a frustrated huff, he carefully slid it off of the nail, holding it in his hands as his thoughts betrayed him. Steve cant quite remember when he’s seen it. Instead of dwelling - his head beginning to pound and swirl - he hooked it around his own wrist.

“Bracelets like that are the first steps to cross dressing, Harrington. Is there something you need to tell the class?” Robin retorted in a slurred voice, stumbling to Steve’s side. Even drunk, she could find a way to poke harmlessly at her friend.

“I’ve seen it before, Rob,” He mumbled. He made his way to the door. “Think someone lost it. Gotta make sure they find it.”

Robins eyebrows raised at him, watching his drunken figure stumble out of Lewinksi’s house with a serious look on his face.

“So you decided to steal it?”

“I’ll know whose it is when I see them. Gotta keep it safe.”

Stumbling after Steve, Robin just let him be. There was no use trying to talk some sense into him, especially when he’s drunk. With a mumbled “dingus”, the two found their way to a sober Jonathan, who promised to drive them home.

A few days had passed since the night Steve found the flowered bracelet. He’d since taken it off, storing it in his jeans pocket everywhere he went. He was certain he knew who it belonged to - the memory was just buried somewhere in the back of his mind. Long fingers gently fiddled with the silver, becoming almost a nervous habit he’d become comfortable with.

There wasn’t much Steve remembered about that night. He remembered the beers and the loud thumping music, and the possibility that he’d gotten a hit off Eddie’s joint earlier in the night. He also remembered finding the bracelet - it dangled off his wrist even while he crashed and burned into his welcoming bed. He just wished he remembered who it belonged to.

His head snapped up quickly as the bell at the door of Family Video rang out. A group of young boys came in, babbling on about what rated R movie they were hoping to rent. Steve also wished he wasn’t constantly waiting for this mystery person to appear.

“If you keep getting distracted like that, Keith’s gonna fire your sorry ass,” Robin said with a glare. She caught the glare Steve threw back at her and ignored it. They both knew Kieth was too short staffed to do anything more than threaten him.

“Give it up man,” Eddie quipped, his curly hair shaking around his head as he spoke. Steve found himself, once again, fiddling with the bracelet in his pocket. It’d gotten so bad that Eddie of all people picked up on it. “You stole the bracelet, of course nobody’s gonna come looking for it.”

He earned himself a rough smack in the arm, returning with his hands up in defense. Steve seemed more pent up than usual, so Eddie dropped it. He gave him a wonky side eye, before he went outside for a smoke. One he thought Steve would benefit from.

A stack of videos rested on Steve’s hip as his eyes scan the shelves. He hadn’t worked in three days, and Kieth had somehow rearranged the entire store. That left Steve and Robin scrambling to familiarize themselves with the new set up. Steve couldn’t help but let out a frustrated huff.

He stumbled around the store with heavy feet, placing each returned film in its proper place, completely focused on his task. He was walking in circles in a dull attempt to finish the stack. Steve had already found himself in a bad mood to begin with. Rain poured outside, the dark clouds making Hawkins look more depressing than usual. He made sure to make a comment about the humidity and his hair to Robin before they were forced to work.

So engrossed in the task at hand, Steve failed to notice the front door opening. Somehow his ears didn’t register the chiming of the bell. With one last final trilogy in hand, he was determined to find its home before he even dared to look back at the register or the front door.

It wasn’t until a nice smelling perfume filled his senses that he came back to his surroundings. Steve’s eyebrows furrowed together in confusion. He recognized that scent. It wasn’t Robins, he knew that, the scent too distinct for him not to pick up on it. It certainly wasn’t Nancy’s. He’d grown a slight adversity to it.

A sweet voice rang into his ears before he could come to his own conclusion.

“Excuse me, sir?” you asked. Steve shuffled around on his feet at the question, eyes locking with yours the moment he finds them. His eyebrows knitted together even more at the sight of a woman his age - why were you calling him sir? He quickly chalked it up to politeness.

“Can you help me find the romance section please? You must’ve rearranged the store, I can’t find it.” Your pretty smile ignited something inside of him. His mind quickly flooded with the memory he’d been looking for since the party at Lewinski’s.

He quickly remembered your soft lips against his, the gentleness of your fingers brushing through his hair, the loud music surrounding the two of you. Steve had your back pressed into a corner of the dining room, locking you in place. He remembered the strawberry lipgloss you had on, too. It was an odd contrast to the liquor on your tongue. More importantly, he remembers the pretty necklace that you wore that night. It was a perfect match to the bracelet in his back pocket.

An awkward cough escaped your throat at the sudden quietness. Your eyebrows were raised in a confused sort of way as you stared up into his eyes. You hardly noticed his blush before he turned his head. Steve began babbling about how Keith - his manager - switched everything around without warning. You followed his awkward stumble towards the new spot for romance in the store.

There was something familiar about the man, you just couldn’t pinpoint where the familiarity came from. You fiddled with the flowered necklace around your neck as you moved past the thought. Your eyes landed immediately on the romance movie you were in search of. A giddy laugh rang into Steve’s ears as you slid the video off the rack and into both hands.

You walked up to the front of the store, letting the man guide you once again. Quickly, you noticed the way he reached inside of his front pocket and fidgeted. He seemed nervous, or deep in thought. He slid behind the counter to the register, eyes flickering up at you as he speaks.

“You were at Lewinski’s party last weekend, right?”

You couldn’t help but scoff at the reminder. A quick nod of your head gave him his answer, though you still spoke. Steve noticed the way your nose scrunched up in annoyance. It made his heart flutter.

“Yeah, but I kinda wish I didn’t.” Your words made his heart drop. He wondered if you remembered, or if you were too far gone to recall it. Your next words washed that away, though. “I lost my bracelet that night. It was my favorite, too.”

Steve’s hand found its way down to his pocket again. This time, he tugged out a thin bracelet. The same bracelet you were missing. Your eyes lit up again at the sight of it, relief filling your body. More rambles spew from his mouth, explaining that he found it when he was heading out and didn’t want to leave it.

He felt your fingers brush against his as you took it from his hand. Your bright smile and your gentle touch had his head spinning. You rambled on much like he did about how grateful you were of him. It didn’t take long for you to get choked up on your words. The way Steve stared into your eyes, you remembered where you’d knew him from. Warmth bloomed from your neck and stretched to your face. He’d been on your mind for days - you had no idea you’d run into him like this.

You weren’t sure what stars aligned for this to happen, but you were beyond grateful it did.

taglist. @songbirdofthenight

[solplease]

here's something no one asked for, my ocs when they were a bit younger! :] (more like how they were in highschool lmfao) ((not aster tho sorry my king. u did not have a highschool.))

as always, close ups and more info under the cut!! OH and i put an updated relationship chart at the very end!! it's in writing this time because i thought that would be easier (it's long.) </3 i am so sorry in advance there's a lot under this HAHA

lune:

lune was a little shit, he's very rebellious now but he was even more rebellious when he was a teenager lmfao

he would CONSTANTLY get into fights, anyone that pissed him off he did not hesitate to attack

his relationship with his parents was already bad but it quickly deteriorated at this point in time

he was relatively popular in school but uh, everyone stayed away from him or tried to be on his good side because... well yk! didn't wanna get attacked..?

also people thought he was annoying but hey at least he was good looking!

he did not know he was popular btw. like at all, no idea, still doesn't know

his grades were like... okay, not great, but not bad, and he would skip class a lot... dumbass

his nails were constantly painted different colours bc cecilia would do them often, he was also never seen without a bracelet on his right wrist

huge troublemaker (some things never change!)

he hasn't really changed since then lmao

cecilia:

she was a bit more reserved back in highschool, still nice and friendly but she had a hard time approaching others because she was nervous (and others found her a bit intimidating cause she didn't smile much) ((and she's related to lune and that guy was known for being crazy))

her and lune were known as "those rich twins"

was constantly stressing over lune because of how much he got in trouble it's not like their parents would do anything about it.

kept her hair long and undyed! she liked doing different things with her hair and would try out diffy styles a lot of the time

she liked having long hair, and randomly cut it off impulsively lmfao (3 am on a school night, she couldn't sleep and was like ok why not)

good student, wasn't always at school but she was doing well

hated going to school, couldn't tell you why, just hated it

she was really awkward as a teen, but she was trying her best

always had bracelets on, if you saw her she had a bunch on her left hand, and then just one on her right.

always had her nails done (she did them herself ^^)

would always carry a few hair ties on her in case any one needed to tie their hair

one time she tried to be cool and approached a girl who didn't have a hair tie and just dropped it in her hands and walked away (she then walked out of class bc she felt embarrassed)

she tried out a lot of different clothing styles

nox:

so, he still had a shitty sleep schedule!

hard to find, he was always somewhere, no one knew where tho

good student, did not give two shits about school though

not very memorable? he was quiet and would leave as soon as he could

every time there was a group project he would ask the teacher to work alone

didn't have any friends.

his classmates were kinda scared of him lol

would braid his hair a lot

had blue on him at all times, there will ALWAYS be blue in his outfits, whether it’s the shirt, pants, or a hair tie, he always had SOMETHING blue on him (this applies now too)

no one really knew much about him, and he liked keeping it that way

fuckass edgelord (kinda)

he was always like 5 minutes late to his first class (there was a cat that would wander around in front of the school and... he couldn't resist)

he would go see that cat every day btw. before and after school, he would also go eat lunch outside so he could see the cat (and he always brought something for it too!)

loser

cassian:

very social! had a lot of friends and was very outgoing

always doodling in class

he was rather popular! and well i guess some people didn't like that

he was known as the rich kid but people were always giving him things because he was super sweet HAHA

a really bright and helpful guy

he was usually seen with a smile on his face

it's a shame how things turned out, hm?

he would bring his shoujo manga to class and just read that (he was always sitting at the back of the classroom bc he was tall so the teachers didn't really pay attention to what he was doing)

and in the rare chance his teachers saw him doing something other than classwork they would mostly let it slide, he's a good kid, so it's fine (favouritism.)

lowkey the typical popular shoujo manga male lead (wow! just like he wanted!)

really good student too, always on top of his stuff

he had these sword earrings that he really liked, he used to wear them a lot!

always wore darker and muted colours, and liked more comfortable clothing

no one said anything but they really missed him after he left, maybe if someone helped him, things would've been different

rowan:

was completely different when he was younger

always angry, or sad, no one really knew what he looked like when he smiled

no one knew what was going on with him

but he was quiet, and didn't talk to many people, he wasn't a mean or scary kid, but people were still intimidated by him

his hair was longer and uneven, it looked like he had cut random bits and pieces

he was smart but wasn't doing so well in school

it always looked like something was stressing him out

he would stay behind after school

tense and uneasy most of the time

hair super healthy tho LMFAO (his mom would oil his hair regularly!)

he was completely different around his mom though, his source of comfort

if anyone from highschool saw him now they'd think he was a completely different person (in terms of personality, since he looks... pretty much the same)

although, in the last few months of highschool, his demeanor had changed for the better, he didn't smile much still but he looked a lot more relaxed and calm

aster: (his stuff is different because he didn't have school in his world lmfao. but here's how he was as a teenager and some other info about him!)

his hair was reallyyyyyyy long when he was still in his world (you end up cutting his hair when he came here lmfao)

he was really lonely because he was the only elf in his world and he had no company whatsoever

he ended up collecting a lot of things because he would wander around a LOT

dora the explorer has nothing on him bro

he was (and is) very curious about things, he really likes to learn

he somehow learned how to braid his own hair, would spend a lot of time doing that when he was bored

he has a horrible sense of fashion, you took him shopping once and he picked out the worst fucking outfits in existence, you're basically his personal stylist cause what the hell

he likes when you dress him up though teehee

he originally saw you in a mirror he found when wandering in the forest

he became really really curious about you and accidentally yanked you to him

he was confused but really happy

blah blah blah you end up living together, we all know the story! (if you don't, you suggested he followed you because you felt bad for him cause he was PAINFULLY lonely)

you took it upon yourself to cut his hair because it was REALLY long when you first met him, he likes having his hair long though, mourned the loss of his two front strands (he will be growing them back.)

he didn't talk to you for a few days after you cut his hair for the first time, wasn't your fault... you accidentally cut off one of the front strands and had to cut the other off to make it even

fun fact about him, his eyes glow in the dark, it can be scary at times.

oh and his ears are expressive, dunno how that works but it does! and he also never goes a day without wearing earrings! he prefers the ones he came with but doesn't mind wearing whatever as long as he has earrings haha

now for the updated relationship chart! (this whole post has been about them from a few years ago but this is their current relationships with each other!)

ROWAN -> LUNE: he’s a weirdo but i’m glad we’re friends, i can handle his craziness more than most people… probably, i’d say he’s like a brother to me, but at the same time i’d probably lose my mind if he was my brother. no idea how cecilia does it

LUNE -> ROWAN: somehow he’s gotten used to me, he’s not so bad, i guess i’d call him a friend

ROWAN -> CECILIA: she’s like a little sister to me! cute! we’re good friends :] i met her through lune, they’re close! we’re like siblings the three of us

CECILIA -> ROWAN: reliable and nice! i wonder how he’s friends with lune. also. we’re the same age?? he’s real sweet tho, and he’s kind of like a big dog? haha

ROWAN -> NOX: who? :D

NOX -> ROWAN: i’ve seen him before (around the twins) he’s close to cecilia and that other guy who she's unfortunately related to

LUNE -> CECILIA: my little sister <3 we are best buddies, i’d do anything for her, she was there with me in our hardest moments, i wouldn’t let anyone hurt her, and she wouldn’t let anyone hurt me, one of the only people i���ll listen to lmao (she’s kinda scary when she’s mad at me but it’s also kinda funny?) i like bothering her but she might kill me one day though. she hides herself a lot, i don’t know why, it’s always been like this. i wonder if it’s because of me..?

CECILIA -> LUNE: dawg you’re like two minutes older than me (won’t deny the best buddies comment) he’s a really good brother though… but tough to deal with, he’s always causing some sort of trouble, but uh, well. anyway, we’re basically best friends… his words, not mine (she’s lying) he’s crazy but he’s not a bad person..? <- would defend him with her life. he’s an interesting fella that’s for sure, i’ve known him my whole life but there’s always something new with him lmfao. sometimes he comes into my room to knock something over and then he leaves, what an odd guy.

LUNE -> NOX: cocky asshole. so annoying. go to hell already. and stay away from my sister, i don't want you plaguing her with your presence.

NOX -> LUNE: fuck you insane bastard, go die.

CECILIA -> NOX: he’s pretty sweet (??????) we’re really great friends! i didn't think we would become such good friends tbh, he didn't seem to be the social type, and i'm not very social either haha... we're pretty similar i think! i can't remember who approached who first but that's fine. also, this guy has one of the worst damn sleep schedules known to man, i worry for that man. also, him and lune hate each other, no idea why.

NOX -> CECILIA: she's a close friend, i don't usually like making friends cause they end up thinking i'm weird, i don't really care about that but... i'll admit, it's nice to have a friend. she acts really differently in front of other people than she does with me, i don't think she's realized though? it's like having a cat open up to you haha, so i won't say anything. i hate her brother though, pretentious dickhead.

CASSIAN -> CECILIA: we were kids when i met her and her brother? she’s nice… and a lot like me… we still talk, she’s a good friend, thanks for keeping me company… and thanks for not asking me too many questions either

CECILIA -> CASSIAN: oh! cass is a childhood friend! we met at some event, he’s changed a lot since then, but i guess we’re more alike now? he doesn’t come out of his house much anymore, but we still text often. sometimes i see him online really late... bro... please get some sleep.... anyway, i never got to know what happened with him, and he doesn't like talking about it either, i won't pry though, because i understand.

CASSIAN -> LUNE: he’s scary, but i guess he’s not that bad..? i talk to him too, we’re not the closest, but he’s still a friend, i text him sometimes, he’s crazier than before, he was fun to hang out with when we were young, not that i don't like him anymore, he's definitely... special

LUNE -> CASSIAN: i don’t know what happened to him, but he doesn’t leave the house anymore, he’s not bad. he texts sometimes, i don’t know why because i think he’s scared of me, no idea why tho (???) i guess he’s a childhood friend? him, ceci, and i used to hang out before… well yeah, still don't know what went down

CASSIAN -> NOX: oh… i’ve never met him. cecilia’s told me about him before, lune’s mentioned him once, they have really different opinions about him

NOX -> CASSIAN: no clue, cecilia’s mentioned him before, i think he’s friends with her and… the other one.

CASSIAN -> ROWAN: another one of lune and cecilia’s friends i think? they sure are popular. (even lune???)  i dont know anything about him though

ROWAN -> CASSIAN: no idea who this guy is! 

ASTER: ??? :’D 

[cherubshert]

omg ur so good at writing angst i need another toxic relationship heeseung post

❥Genre: Angst (cheating)

❥a/n: thank u so much for your request!! :)) this might sound a bit odd but i don't really like writing toxic relationships cause it feels too real 😭. idk I'm also a super over thinker lol... The name for the other person is made up !! This is purely fiction!! don't take it seriously!!! I am also a really bad writer so this maybe bad lol

You're so overwhelmed with emotion, Karina's words replaying in your mind. "...the way they held eachother, was so odd. i don't want to start something but they definitely have something going on behind your back."

It made everything make sense, the sudden wall that grew between the both of you, the excuses on why he couldn't meet you, even on days when you knew he wasn't busy, the lack of emotion in his eyes when he looked at you. You didn't want to seem insecure or clingy so you let it go, but now the puzzle pieces were coming together, so quickly you couldn't control it.

Him sitting before you drags you out of your thoughts. The Heeseung you once loved looked so different now, the previously shy man who chased you non stop before your relationship looked like a stranger. "Sorry I'm late." he says shortly, before ordering his drink. You ask him about his day, you didn't want to scare him off yet. His answers felt real but still distant. As his order arrived you watch him eat.

"Who's Cora?" You watch him pause, placing his cup down before looking up at you. "Classmate." "Karina said she's seen you two around, be... buddy buddies." "Oh? we have class together of course we'll be friendly with eachother."

You stare at him, struggling to read the look on his face. You reach for your phone, opening up your group chat with you lr friends, showing him the series of photos they got of them together. His face pales, your fingers helping him scroll through, stopping on a picture of them kissing.

"I... This isn't what-" "It looks like? it's fake? I have videos if you'd like to see them." You sigh. "I won't shame you for falling out of love, but you should have at least broken things off with me first. That hurts so much less than knowing I wasn't worth fidelity." He panics, shaking his head, reaching for your hand, you pull away.

"I can explain, please." "Go ahead, fill me in." you cross your hands over your chest, tilting your head to the side. A series of emotions fly across his face, his shoulders ultimately dropping in defeat. "I'm sorry." he croaks out. You stand to your feet, his hands grabbing your before you could leave. "I still love you, I still feel everything I told you I felt for you that night." you laugh bitterly, swatting his hand away. "The feeling isn't mutual, goodluck with your new relationship."

[stolenslumber]

though the stars walk backward (sjy) (part 1)

Your first encounter with Jake Sim ends with ketchup on your clothes and his burger in his friend’s lap. The second encounter doesn’t go so smoothly, either. He thinks he might have gotten the hang of it by the third time, but as the saying goes: there is no easy way from the earth to the stars.

PAIRING: sim jaeyun x female reader GENRE: college au, one-sided enemies-to-lovers (the e2l part is short-lived lol sry), friends-to-lovers, he fell first but then they both fell harder? lmao, soooooo much mutual pining, fluff, romance, jake as a star soccer player but also loser physics nerd, mc is an assistant manager on the soccer team because of Convoluted Reasons WARNINGS: swearing, familial angst/generational trauma WORD COUNT: ~11.8k a/n: lol (said with no humor whatsoever) i decided to post the first half rn and when i say "first half" what i mean is that i intended for this to come out as a complete fic instead of in parts however school is slamming me so hard and i'm contributing by ruining my own life SOOOO who was to say when this would ever see the light of day if it had to be a full fic..... anyways part 2 is like 30-40% written but i probably won't be able to work on the rest until after my semester ends so maybe may? lol (once again w/ no humor)

“Don’t freak out, but I think the girl you stare at in the library is staring back at you.”

Jake freezes with his burger halfway to his open mouth. “What? Where? And I don’t stare at her in the library—”

Jay nudges his friend’s jaw upwards. “I said don’t freak out.”

“At least he didn’t turn in her direction,” Sunghoon offers. But he says it while looking disdainfully at the ketchup dripping from Jake’s burger onto the dining hall table, so Jake isn’t all that comforted by it. 

Instead, he repeats “Where?” through gritted teeth. 

“At your four o’clock, but I wouldn’t get too excited about it.” Jay squints. “I’m pretty sure she’s glaring at you, honestly. Okay, seriously do not freak out, but she’s coming over here…”

Jake tries to figure out what to do with himself as you approach with alarming speed— should he fix his hair, or tuck his shirt in? Damn it, he doesn’t even remember if he’s wearing something clean today. Before he can fully comprehend it, you’re standing in front of him, looking as pretty as ever in a silky dress that floats down to your ankles. 

Your mouth opens to say something, and there’s a deep furrow between your brows that Jake longs to smooth out, but then his hands clamp down on his burger, and— “Oh shit, dude, I’m so sorry!” 

Bright red ketchup decorates the front of your pristine white dress.

Your jaw drops, as does your gaze, fixated on the ugly red splotch spreading over the fabric covering your stomach. Everything you’d been meaning to say to him flies out of your head, replaced by blood rushing in your ears as your anger grows at the foolish oaf in front of you. “This is dry clean only,” you hiss.

Jake drops his burger in Jay’s lap, ignoring his friend’s squawk of indignation. Hurriedly, he wipes his hands on some napkins and tries offering them to you before cowing under your withering glare. “I am so sorry,” he repeats. His arms flail at his sides before he picks up the cardigan lying next to him and hands it to you. “You have a library shift coming up, right? Please feel free to wear this until you can get home and change. I have class until two, but I can take your clothes to the dry cleaners afterwards. I’m really so sorry!”

Your mouth shapes around air a few times as you work out exactly how to respond to him, but then your phone buzzes to remind you of your library shift— it is coming up— and you decide that you’ll deal with this— and him— later. Unhappily, you grab the proffered cardigan. “Two o’clock. Don’t be late.” And then you twist on your heel and depart, leaving Jake to stare sadly at the swish of your hair against your back.

“Are you gonna take my clothes to the dry cleaners, too?” Jay intones dryly from beside him.

Jake groans and sinks back down into the booth, covering his face with his hands and shaking his head repeatedly. “I can’t believe that just happened. I have to walk into traffic now.” Before Jay can say anything else, Jake tacks on, “And yeah, give me your pants.”

“Damn, take me to dinner first. Oh, wait, I guess you did offer me food.” Jay plucks the burger out of his lap and deposits it onto Jake’s plate pointedly.

Sunghoon lets out a whistle between his teeth. “Wow, I’ve never seen anyone fumble so badly. Like, seriously, that should be studied in a lab.”

“I got nervous!” Jake exclaims. 

Sunghoon chortles. “Clearly. Cute girl comes over, and you not only call her dude, but you also squirt ketchup all over her.”

Jake kicks him in the shin, hard. “Can you not pile on?” 

“Sorry, sorry.” Sunghoon holds up his hands in mock surrender. “Was that the first time you interacted with her?”

Unhelpfully, Jay pipes up. “Unless you count staring at her in the library interacting, I’d say yes. Speaking of, how do you know her schedule, bro? You’re creepier than I thought.”

Jake jabs him with an elbow. “My class got canceled once and I saw her at the library then, okay? Some of us actually have homework, Socrates and Warren Buffet.” He rolls his eyes at Sunghoon (philosophy) and Jay (business) in turn. “And again, I don’t stare!”

A few hours later, Jake stares at the back of your head. 

He’s not in his usual spot in the library, which is a round table near the windows on the mezzanine level— straight line of sight to one of the reference desks, but he did not pick that spot on purpose, no matter how much his friends like to joke that he did. He’s been sitting in that spot since the first day of his freshman year; he’d chosen it because he likes being able to see out into the quad, and the noise level in that area is perfect for him (not too quiet, which would make him fall asleep, and not too loud, which would just make him want to join in on wherever the fun was). He couldn’t have known that you would show up halfway through last year, get a job as one of the students manning the reference desk, and then occupy the exact spot his eyes tend to rest on when he zones out.

And he really couldn’t have known that you would be so pretty.

It doesn’t help that you’re in practically all of his classes this year, and he’s had the opportunity to talk to you every day for the past two weeks if he wanted to. He’s not the most shameless person in the world (Sunghoon), but he’s also not scared of his own reflection (Heeseung), so why couldn’t he have just introduced himself like a normal person on the first day of classes and avoided this whole ketchup fiasco?

Someone comes up to the desk to ask a question, and your head tilts toward them as the afternoon sunlight frames your face just so; Jake gulps and thinks, Oh yeah, that’s why. So pretty. And dizzyingly smart, if the way he sees your pencil fly over quizzes is anything to go by.

As if sensing his eyes on you, you twist around fully to catch him staring. Jake blinks deer-in-headlights eyes at you; if this was a cartoon, there would be a ?! above his head.

Your eyes narrow at him and you jerk your head in your own direction. Get over here. 

Jake gulps and straightens up before shuffling over to you. He kind of feels like he’s walking to the gallows, but on a flower-lined path, because his cardigan on you softens you around the edges, and you look right at home in it. 

“Heeeeeeey.” He raises a hand and waves at you, though he’s right in front of you. He winces before you can even raise a skeptical eyebrow at him, but then you do, so he grimaces. “Sorry, that was weird. Uh, hi.”

You nod curtly at him. “Hi. I’m done in two minutes. Thanks for being on time.”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” he mumbles to the floor. Luckily, you don’t catch it because you’re packing away the problem set you were doing in between answering student questions, which he chances a glance at because hey, he’d been having trouble with page 157.

Of course, you catch that. “What are you, twelve? Do your own work.”

“Wait, what? Hold on a second, I’m not trying to cheat off of you— hey, wait up!” He scrambles to catch up with you where you’re already halfway down the stairs. Panicked, he speeds past you and plants himself in your path, greeted by your look of supreme irritation for the second time that day. “I wasn’t trying to cheat off of you,” he says, more firmly this time. “I was just gonna ask you how you did with page 157, because I was having some trouble with it earlier.”

You scoff and slide to the left to go around him, only to be met by him mirroring you. “Are you serious right now? Get out of my way.”

“We’re going to the same place!”

“Yeah, and now I’ve remembered that I can pay for my own dry cleaning. Move.” You go right, and he follows.

“I’m still coming— I gotta take Jay’s pants there. I dropped my burger in his lap earlier when, well, you know.”

You go left again, and he follows once more. “Okay, for real? Let me go, asshole.”

Jake drops his backpack off his shoulders and hoists it onto his knee, rummaging around in it while still blocking your path. You think he’s officially lost it, but you’re also never one to miss an opportunity, so you feint to the right and then go left, but he’s faster and blocks you again with his head halfway buried in his backpack. Damn it, he’s good. You don’t realize you’ve said that out loud until he looks up at you and smiles sheepishly. “Soccer team,” he explains. Oh— that reminds you why you were approaching him at the dining hall in the first place, and real anger resurfaces in your blood. 

“Like I care,” you snap. You’re about to just shove him down the stairs and call it an easy day when you’re met with a crumpled piece of graph paper waved in front of your face. “What the hell is this?”

“Next week’s problem set! See, look, I finished everything except the problems on page 157, and I did get started, but I just wanted to check if I was on the right path, okay? I promise, I wasn’t trying to cheat off of you.” He frowns. “These aren’t even graded for quality. It’s just a submission for completion.”

Your eyebrows climb up your forehead. Though his handwriting is shit, you can see that he’s telling the truth. The fact that he’s doing the problem set for next week probably should have tipped you off in and of itself, but what surprises you is the simple elegance with which his calculations come out. “Hey, how’d you do that on number 89 on page 151—” You cut yourself off. “Never mind. Fine, I believe you. Can you move now? We’re blocking the entire stairway.”

Jake seems to finally notice the build-up of annoyed students in front of and behind you both. “Right, oops.” He zips up his backpack and slings it over one shoulder before descending the stairs with quick steps. He turns around and tilts his head quizzically at you when you don’t follow. 

Truthfully, you’re trying to decide if you should make a break for it and go up the stairs so you can take a different set of stairs down, but then you realize how childish that sounds. So, it’s with less dignity than you’d like that you meet him at the bottom of the staircase. But you don’t stop where he’s standing; instead, you breeze past him so smoothly that he finds himself staring at the back of your head for a few seconds before springing into motion after you. 

“Soooooo… dry cleaner’s?” He offers you a tentative smile once he’s fallen into step with you.

You seem to have made your mind up about something, because you turn to him with a dazzling smile that knocks the breath right out of his lungs. “Lead the way.”

“O-Okay.” He’s taken aback by your sudden about-face, but he’s not going to question it. 

He tells you that he’s happy to drive there, and you’re perfectly agreeable about it. You even start talking about the problem set that had been the source of such strife just minutes earlier. At the dry cleaner, you give him the biggest surprise yet when you ask for his number. Obviously, he gives it to you, and he has to pretend like he isn’t perturbed by the cryptic, almost manic look in your eyes when you promise that you’ll be in touch. 

But then you’re gone without so much as a goodbye, and it’s only when he gets back to his place that he realizes he doesn’t even know how you got home, and he can’t text you because he doesn’t have your number.

Still. A win is a win.

ball sports (derogatory) (heeseung, jay, jake, sunghoon) 

jake: this has been the strangest and possibly greatest day of my life

sunghoon: ur preaching to the choir ketchup boy

sunghoon: yizhuo told me i was hotter with blonde hair

sunghoon: so like hell yeah she thinks im hot but hell no now i have to dye my hair back

jake: ????? did i ask

jake: i’m talking about MY day

jay: she actually did not say you were hotter with blonde hair. in fact none of those words came out of her mouth 

jay: you asked if she liked your new hair and she said no

sunghoon: hop off my dick tf????

heeseung: so what happened jake

sunghoon: oh i can tell u this it’s old news

sunghoon: jake fumbled his first interaction w/ the girl he stares at in the library

jake: BUT she asked for my number and said she’d be in touch!!!!

sunghoon: right so u can pay for her dry cleaning bill

jake: OR maybe she wants to be friends

jake: to lovers&lt;3

jay: idk she kinda looked like she wanted to take you out when she was coming over to us at lunch today

jake: take me out… oh my god LIKE ON A DATE?????

jay: no like

jay: lethally

women’s rights and wrongs (you, minjeong, aeri, somi)

you: so you know how i was gonna confront jake today

yizhuo: yeah i heard that went poorly

yizhuo: sunghoon said something about ketchup????

you: nvm all that. i have a Better Plan. i’m gonna ruin his life

minjeong: cool

somi: noooooo he’s hot

you: HE RUINED MY BROTHER’S LIFE

somi: girl u have to let that go

somi: ur brother is 10 and made it to the B team for club soccer

somi: i think he’ll be fine

you: BUT HE SHOULD’VE BEEN IN THE A TEAM. I SAW JAKE’S BEADY EYES SINGLING HIM OUT UNFAIRLY

somi: he actually has like insane puppy dog eyes

you: anyways i’m going to systematically but subtly make his life more and more difficult as soon as i start assistant managing his soccer team on monday. but he will never know it’s me bc i’m going to be so nice and normal to his face BUT ACTUALLY i’m gonna make him my bitch

yizhuo: “nice and normal to his face” u have the worst poker face i’ve ever seen

minjeong: technically speaking if ur an assistant manager aren’t u THEIR bitch

For reasons you cannot fathom, the men’s varsity soccer team has practice on Monday mornings, at the crack of dawn. You’re beginning to regret giving up your reasonably timed library shifts where you basically got paid to sit there and do your homework and check out computer chargers to students every now and then, but these are the things you do when you’re trying to be a good sister.

Autumn has arrived abruptly— almost overnight, if the smattering of ambers and ochres falling from the trees lining the soccer field is anything to go by. You realize you’re dressed entirely inappropriately for the weather when your teeth are chattering and your eyes are watering from the sting of the cold. The dress you’d picked out last night for today seems laughable now. 

“What are you doing here?” Jake’s voice, so unexpectedly close, makes you jolt and flail around a bit before turning to meet his confused expression— head tilted, eyes wide, and damn it, Somi’s right, he does have insane puppy dog eyes.

You gesture vaguely at the field. “I’m one of the new assistant managers. Surprise! Told you I’d be in touch.”

“Speaking of— did you get home alright the other day?” 

“Yeah, of course, I just walked.”

He wants to be concerned about that answer— the closest student accommodations are at least a thirty minute walk away from the dry cleaner’s— but then he sees you hop from one foot to the other while rubbing your arms. You look so out of place with your heeled mary janes sinking into the dew-damp field with every hop, but it’s so cute that he has to bite the inside of his cheek to prevent himself from grinning too widely. In a move that now feels familiar, he digs around in his bag before pulling out a spare sweatshirt and handing it to you. 

Appreciation for his kindness and irritation at his kindness play tug-of-war inside of you for all of two seconds before a particularly brisk gust of wind hits you, and then you’re yanking the sweatshirt over your head and breathing in clean soap and something else unfairly cozy. “Thanks,” you mumble. 

“Sure thing. Here, take this, too.” Jake digs around in his bag some more and emerges triumphant with a thermos. He twists the cap off and pours some liquid into the cap before offering it to you. 

It smells like… “Hot chocolate?” 

“With two espresso shots, because we have intro to Python right after practice today.”

You grimace in unison at that reminder, and you’re kind of glad that that’s the last expression on your face before you sip at the drink, because it’s perfect, and you have to refrain from letting your eyes roll to the back of your head. So he’s practical, makes delicious hot drinks, and, because you’re not immune to those big brown eyes, attractive. It’s a pity he was such a jerk to your brother, because otherwise you’d be swooning. 

But he must have seen something change in your face, because he lets out a giggle— oh no, it’s so cute— and hands you the entire thermos. “I think you need it more than me,” he explains. 

You try to remind yourself of your brother’s disappointment after club soccer try-outs last week, which you had seen from your totally not-creepy position, brooding inside your stepdad’s car over how to best connect with this 10-year-old kid who was just old enough to recognize that girls had cooties and not old enough to share any genuine interests with you. It was less creepy because you were there to pick your brother up, but you feel like you’re not any closer to him than a stranger (in fairness, you hadn’t known that he existed before last year). You’ve tried, in fits and starts, to get to know MJ better, to actually form some sort of sibling bond with him, but most of the time, you’re his glorified chauffeur. He tries, too, and your heart goes all fuzzy when you notice it, but there’s only so far that a 10-year-old whose greatest joys in life are cookies ‘n cream ice cream (understandable), and soccer (more confounding) can get before he decides that his Nintendo is more readily enjoyable.

The look on MJ’s face after try-outs last week had spurred you to apply for the assistant manager position. He was so sad about the B team, and you did the whole comforting, cajoling song-and-dance as best as you could, but he had just snapped at you that you didn’t get it, that you couldn’t get it. And then he had burst into frustrated tears, and you vowed at that moment to learn everything you could about soccer, as well as to give Jake Sim a piece of your mind. 

Jake Sim, whom you had only known as the guy that finished the first lab faster than anyone else in your extrasolar research methods class, until you saw him blowing a whistle on the sidelines of MJ’s soccer try-outs, looking like he had some sort of authority as he directed a group of kids, including MJ, in a series of drills. Later, you found out from Minjeong that Jake is a star player on your school’s soccer team, so he presumably has some basis for helping out with the local club soccer team, but you hadn’t been all that interested in finding out more. You’d seen enough from the way he took MJ aside after the teams had been announced, and MJ’s subsequent tears in the car, and you knew vengeance would be yours. 

Unfortunately, vengeance is currently offering you hot chocolate with two espresso shots, and he is distressingly earnest when he wraps your hands around the thermos and points you in the direction of the other assistant managers who are supposed to onboard you. So, you bid Jake a stiff goodbye as you try to ignore the warmth spreading from the tip of your nose down into your throat. It’s definitely the hot chocolate, but you’re annoyed at even the possibility that it could be connected to Jake. 

women’s rights and wrongs

yizhuo: so how’s world domination (ruining jake’s life) going?

you: hard to say. he gave me a sweatshirt and hot chocolate bc i’m wearing a stupid ass outfit and it’s cold as hell out here

minjeong: he said that?!

you: no I’M saying that

you: i need to change my entire wardrobe so i’m never caught unawares like this ever again. i let my guard down and this is what happens. 

somi: a guy is nice to u? yeah god forbid

you: HE IS BESMIRCHING MY HONOR (AVENGING MJ)

minjeong: jeez you get so victorian when you’re distressed 

somi: sorry are we ignoring the fact that he gave her a sweatshirt and hot chocolate????

minjeong: omfg YEAH that’s like. bf behavior

you: oh fuck there’s some sort of commotion going on out there in the field

you: omg they’re bringing a STRETCHER out

you: i gotta go guys ttyl xoxo etc. 

yizhuo: notice how she never responded to the bf behavior allegations

Jung Sungchan, team captain, is down and out for the count after being wheeled out of practice on a stretcher with a torn ACL. This is reasonably concerning to everyone on the team, but none more so than to Jake, who finds himself at the receiving end of a Serious Talk about leadership qualities and such from his coach that ends with, “... and that’s why we want you to fill in for Sungchan while he’s recovering.”

“Huh?” Jake tilts his head at his coach. He must have misheard; there’s no way they want him to fill in for Sungchan.  

“The seniors love you, the underclassmen look up to you, your peers respect you, and all the coaches agree. Sungchan will come back as soon as he’s able, but he won’t be able to actually play this season, so you’ll have to keep up the leadership on the field and off. We’re confident in your abilities. Good man.” His coach claps him on the shoulder, and that’s the end of it. 

Jake is still staring dumbly in his coach’s departing direction when you approach him with his cardigan, sweatshirt, and thermos. 

You had planned to just give him his stuff and leave, but curiosity gets the better of you after having witnessed the spectacle out on the field. “Everything alright? Who got carried out on that stretcher?”

Still a bit shell-shocked, Jake speaks without thinking: “Worried it was me?”

You look at him like he’s an alien species. “It clearly wasn’t, because whoever it was is much taller than you.”

Jake frowns up at you. “Okay, no need to go for the height. That was my captain, who’s gonna be out for the rest of the season, so now Coach wants me to fill in for him… I don’t know what he’s thinking. I mean, I get that seniority isn’t everything, but this feels kinda unfair to any of the seniors who could’ve stepped in for Sungchan.”

“How convenient to have everything handed to you on a silver platter,” you mutter. It’s an entirely unjustified thing to say— you barely know Jake or anything about his background, but then MJ’s tear-stained face flashes across your mind, and you don’t feel so bad about it. 

Genuine hurt and a hint of actual anger sparks in Jake’s eyes. “Okay, what’s your problem? I get that I didn’t make the best of first impressions the other day, but I apologized and tried to make up for it— you can just text me the bill from the dry cleaner’s, by the way— and I don’t know what else I’ve done to upset you, but I’m sorry for whatever that is, too. Are we good, or is there something else you’ve got against me?” His last question comes out almost aggressively as he stands up, bringing him not quite chest-to-chest with you, but close enough that you notice the perfectly defined cupid’s bow of his lips, and then you’re disgusted with yourself. College hormones have made you fallible; it shouldn’t sway you that he’s cute (and kind, and smart, and considerate, your brain reminds you unhelpfully). 

“We’re good,” you snap. “Here’s your stuff.” You shove the things he gave you into his arms before whipping around sharply to walk (stomp) away, pointedly ignoring his surprised yelp when your hair hits him in the face. Childishly, you think that it serves him right.

Sadly, your conscience comes back to haunt you approximately 18 hours later, at which point you’re pulling out ingredients and clanging whisks against bowls. 

Minjeong sticks her head into the kitchen to ask, “What are you doing?” 

You freeze in your movements, letting a particularly clumpy spot of brownie batter fall from your raised spatula back into the mixing bowl. “Cleaning,” you lie baldly. One unimpressed eyebrow raise from her gets you to clear your throat and put down your spatula. “Making brownies,” you amend.

“At midnight?”

“Yeah, I just had… a craving.”

Minjeong seems to consider pushing you on this, but the smell of the brownie batter wins her over. “Awesome, can I have some?” She moves to dip her finger into the batter.

“No!” You shriek, covering the bowl with your arms crossed on top of each other in an X.

Minjeong pulls her hand back and looks at you with alarm. “Why? What’s wrong?”

You sigh and retreat from the bowl. “Sorry, I don’t know what came over me. Um, I’m making brownies… for Jake—”

“For who now?”

“—’s soccer team,” you finish, turning to glare at Somi and her untimely entrance.

She only waves slyly at you from where she’s leaning against the doorway of the kitchen. “Y’know, it’s not really his soccer team. It’s the school’s soccer team, or maybe Jung Sungchan’s, but sure, let’s call it Jake’s, too.” She tsks. “Pretty privilege.” You give her a pointed up-and-down, to which she just shrugs.

Minjeong seizes you by the shoulders and peers aggressively into your eyes, ignoring your surprised yelp. “Why are you making guilt brownies for Jake Sim?”

“They’re not guilt brownies!” You splutter, waving your hands in front of her face as if that will stave off the gleam of interrogatory insanity in her eyes.

Drawn by her nose and her ears, Yizhuo chooses that point to wander into the kitchen, as well. “Who are the guilt brownies for?”

You groan and drop your face into your hands. Somi and Minjeong exclaim “Jake Sim!” in gleeful unison before dissolving into giggles.

Yizhuo decides to show you mercy, bless her heart, because all she does is come over to inspect the brownie batter and hum noncommittally. Of course, she ruins it when she spots what’s on the stove and gasps dramatically, “Guys, she made ganache! These are, like, mega guilt brownies!”

Back when the four of you first started living together last year, you were a mid-year transfer student whose sudden appearance had forced Somi, Minjeong, and Yizhuo’s two-room triple to turn into a two-room quad, and your guilt about disrupting their living arrangements had led you to bake them brownies from scratch— cocoa powder, chopped chocolate, browned butter, espresso, and everything. The girls had clamored for the recipe (your mother’s). Since then, you have happily moved out of the dorms and into a subsidized student apartment, but you each continue to make variations of the brownies for each other as peace offerings after a spat, or celebrations, or gestures of comfort.

And now, as an apology for being mean to Jake Sim, which is how you summarize it to your still-giggling roommates.

“Well, I’m sure he’ll like them,” Yizhuo offers, with a poorly-concealed smirk. 

“They’re for the team,” you repeat.

“Riiiiiight, and is the team with us in the room right now?” Somi wiggles her eyebrows at you, then her shoulders, then her entire body, and it’s so absurd that you tear up from laughing too hard. You had moved across the country for your brother, and you hadn’t expected anything else would come out of it, but now you have the best of friends, who hold a piece of your heart, and you, theirs. The thought makes you unexpectedly emotional, so much so that you begin making another batch of brownies.

“These are just I’m really glad we’re friends brownies,” you sniffle. 

Somi exchanges a look with Minjeong and Ningning, and then they’re all descending upon you in a hug; one big mess of limbs and love. It’s absolutely wonderful. 

The next day, you carry multiple containers of brownies around with you all day, looking for a chance to offload them (and your guilty conscience) onto Jake. It shouldn’t be this hard— you share four out of five classes with him this semester, and you’re supposed to be at two soccer practices a week in rotation with the other assistant managers, as well as every other game. But everywhere you turn, Jake is either slipping out of class before you can get to him, or he arrives just before the professor starts lecturing and you’re already seated with your pencil poised over paper. 

You’re not on rotation for practice today, so you spend a rather agitated handful of hours doing schoolwork after classes, until you get a last-minute text from your stepdad asking if you can pick MJ up.

Of course, you get the shock of your life when you get to the address your stepdad sent you and see Jake Sim playing soccer with your brother at some local park. You’re not alone in your surprise; Jake makes a full stop upon catching sight of you and gets a soccer ball to the head for it, knocking him fully down to the ground. Thankfully, he pops back up immediately, just in time to catch you speeding past him to fuss over MJ. 

“What on earth are you doing here alone?!” You exclaim to your brother, looking around as if the rest of his soccer team will materialize out of thin air. “Did that bad man lure you out here?”

Jake’s eyes bulge out of his head as he looks around at the zero other people on the field before pointing to himself and mouthing Me? at you. 

MJ just shrugs and points at Jake. “Practicing with Jake hyung.”

“Jake hyung?” You squint at the offender in question.

“Yeah, he’s been helping me get ready for next season’s tryouts.” MJ scuffs the toe of his shoe against the grass, clearly embarrassed by your fretting. 

“Hey, Minjae, is this your… sister?” Jake asks tentatively. The question itself is innocent enough, but irritation and jealousy set your blood buzzing; MJ rarely lets you call him Minjae. He claims MJ is cooler, and he doesn’t let your mother call him Minjae, either, but your stepdad calls him Minjae freely and with an abundance of returned affection.

“Yep.” MJ pops the p as he looks between the two of you, now sensing that whatever is going on here is larger than him. “Uh, can I go to the bathroom?”

“Sure.” You and Jake respond in unison, which makes you glare and him blush.

“Okay, cool. See ya.” MJ races off to the porta-potties with unusual enthusiasm, but you suppose he’d rather be there than here to witness the breakdown of normal social interaction between you and Jake.

The instant MJ is out of earshot, you whirl on Jake and demand, “How do you know my brother?” 

Instinctually, he puts his hands up in surrender. “He looked like he was pretty down on himself after club try-outs last week, so I talked to him and offered to run drills with him, like, once a week, okay? I’m not some…. bad man!”

“Oh.” You deflate in front of his eyes as you realize the depths of your misunderstanding. “Well… okay.”

He eyes you apprehensively. “We’re good?” 

“Yeah, yeah, we’re… good.” The words remind you of the acerbic encounter you had with him the day before, which reminds you of the guilt brownies, which reminds you of the guilt. Like everything else in your life, you decide to get over this with clinical efficiency. “Listen, I owe you an apology. Probably several. I was picking up MJ from try-outs last week, and I saw him with you, and then he was crying in the car, so I jumped to conclusions about you and your role in the try-outs. That’s why I came over to you at lunch the other day, to tell you off.” You take a deep breath and barrel on, mindful of your brother’s likely imminent return. “I shouldn’t have assumed. I’m sorry, Jake.”

“Oh, no, that’s okay, really, don’t worry about it.” Jake rubs the back of his neck and looks anywhere but at you. He’s never seen you like this before— contrite, sincere, and concentrating so fully on him that he wants to either hide his face from you or do something even stupider, like ask you out. Instead, what comes out of his mouth is, “I think the dry cleaning is ready, if you want to go pick it up right now. With me. Or without me, I guess. I can just, like, be there. And you’ll be there, too. But we’ll be there separately. Wow, should I stop talking?”

That prompts laughter from you, and his breath catches in his throat at the wonder of watching delight unfold across your face. In that moment, sunlight emerges from behind a patchwork of clouds, but it’s your laughter that warms him from head to toe.

“Let me just drop MJ off at home, and then I’ll come with you to the dry cleaner. Together, not separately.” Your eyes twinkle in residual amusement at him, and he lets himself break out into a goofy grin.

MJ makes his presence known by loudly asking why the two of you are just standing there smiling at each other, and if Jake can walk home with you all. Jake manufactures a coughing fit and you ignore MJ’s first question, but you say yes to the second one. 

MJ cheers and starts tugging Jake along in the direction of your mother and stepdad’s house. You trail behind them in bemused amusement; they talk about soccer the whole time, and Jake is playful and patient but never condescending with the boy that clearly idolizes him. Watching Jake interact with your brother is bittersweet— it’s so easy between them, in a way that you’ve never experienced yourself. By the time you reach the house, MJ has extracted a promise from you both that he can attend Jake’s next home game.

At the door, MJ fist-bumps Jake and is magnanimous enough to allow you to kiss his cheek goodbye. You send him off with a, “Be kind!” and he hollers back, “I know!”

And then it’s just you and Jake, who’s looking at you with a newfound curiosity that makes you nervous. “What?” You snap, and then you instantly backtrack. “Sorry, I, uh, I’m still a little wound up from—” thinking you were a jerk— “… earlier.”

“All good.” Jake tips his head towards the sidewalk, and you realize you’re still on the doorstep of MJ’s house. You follow Jake onto the sidewalk, where he asks, “Do you always tell him to be kind?” 

It’s the last thing you expected him to ask. “Um, yeah. Not that he’s a mean kid or anything, but my mother always told me to be good, and I’ve heard her say the same thing to him, so I just… want him to hear something different.” Because be good just means be quiet and perform well, and you already go to therapy every other week for that. 

Jake beams at you. “That’s awesome. You’re a great sister.”

He’s saying all the things that would be right for someone else, but for you, they’re all the wrong things. Still, there’s no way he could know that, and it’s not his fault, so you try to tone down your wince. “Thanks, but I barely know how to talk to MJ. He’s old enough to find it lame to just hang out with his sister, and we don’t have a lot in common. That’s why I applied to be an assistant manager, actually— I’m trying to learn more about soccer.”

“Sounds like best-sibling-of-the-year behavior to me. Seriously, I have an older brother— he’s the one who introduced me to soccer— and we have a great relationship, but he never joined the orchestra for me, or anything like that.” Jake nudges your shoulder with his. “And hey, if you want to learn more about soccer, you can ask me anything, anytime.” 

He turns eyes so kind and earnest on you that your thought process halts and then restarts like a broken record. You have to grab onto the closest coherent thought before you stare at him for too long. “You were in the orchestra?”

Jake wrinkles his nose. “Yeah, but I was pretty average with a violin. Dumb jock, you know?” He smiles at you to let you know he’s joking. 

Thankfully, you smile right back. “Soooo true. Remind me how long the first extrasolar research methods lab took you?”

He blushes and waves you off. “Ah, well, that’s the kind of stuff I want to do in the future, so I better get good at it, right?” He lowers his voice, even though there’s no one around who could possibly overhear his nerdy confession. “Honestly, I cried a little when the first images from the James Webb telescope came out.” 

In equally hushed tones, you respond, “Me, too.”

Jake grins. “Aerospace engineering, right? Your brother did say that his sister loves machines and stars.”

The fact that MJ talked about you at all is enough to have you floating on air. “Yeah, that’s me. And hey, this is us.” You point to the sign for the dry cleaner. 

“Oh. We got here fast.” Jake tries— and likely fails— not to sound too disappointed. But you’ve already gone ahead into the store, so he leaves behind his foolish desires (walking back to where you’d dropped your brother off and then here again, if only to spend more time with you) at the door. 

In the store, Jake gives Jay’s pants a perfunctory once-over to check that they’re fine, but his attention is mainly focused on your dress— it comes back perfectly clear of any ketchup stains, to which he lets out a loud, relieved sigh.

You eye him strangely for that reaction. “I know I was a bit high-strung about it at the time, but it wouldn’t have been the end of the world if my dress was ruined. I wouldn’t, like, come after you with a pitchfork.”

He pauses for a second to let that image play out in his mind. “Y’know, I didn’t think you would, but now that you’ve brought up the possibility…” He grins when you laugh and shove lightly at his shoulder. “But seriously, it would have been a shame. You looked really nice in that dress.” The words tumble thoughtlessly out of his mouth, but he can’t bring himself to regret it when he sees your mouth part in surprise before flattening into a tiny, pleased smile. 

“I would hope so. I have excellent taste,” you say, trying to sound haughty and ending up somewhere near flustered. There’s heat in your cheeks; you’re stuck between wanting to wipe that boyish smirk off of his face and wanting to frame the way it looks. 

“So… are you headed back to your house?” Jake tries out what he wants to say next in his head, first: And would you mind if I walked you there?

“Oh, yeah. It’s getting kind of late. I think your friend— Sunghoon? Yizhuo invited him over for dinner tonight, actually, if you… also want to come.” You cringe at how awkward that sounded. “I mean, not that it’s going to be a big thing, or anything. Minjeong and Somi are making an insane amount of mac ‘n cheese, because there was a really good sale at the grocery store, so we’re just trying to offload it, really. There’s gonna be a bunch of people there.”

Jake’s head tilts in confusion. “Your friends live with your family?”

“What? No, we’re in an apartment on Maplewood. MJ lives with his parents, but I don’t live there.” You grimace. “I go there for family dinner once a week, so that’s where I went after we came to the dry cleaner for the first time. But that’s only on Wednesdays, thank god.”

Jake hums noncommittally. There’s more he’d like to ask, to know, to understand, but then his stomach growls, and he laughs sheepishly. “I’ll gladly take you up on the mac ‘n cheese. I need some fodder to tease Sunghoon with, anyways. Seeing him with Yizhuo always does it.”

“The will-they-won’t-they childhood-menaces-to-who-knows show?”

“Exactly. So, tell me about aerospace engineering…”

The walk to your apartment is long by any measurement, but it passes by quickly. Jake asks you genuine questions about propulsion systems and your friends, and you learn that he loves superhero movies, his family dog, and poetry, of all things. He’s endearingly bashful about the last one.

“Physics is pretty dry at the undergraduate level, even when it’s astrophysics. But the way that poets talk about the stars… It takes my breath away, a little bit. Reminds me that it’s a marvel to just look heavenward, I guess.” He rubs the tip of his reddening nose. “Silly, right?”

“Not at all.” Romantic, actually, is what you want to tell him. Romantic, because he talks about space like it’s a reverential thing, like a telescope can be a paintbrush through the night sky, like constellations are more than just sets of stars connected by the human eye. But you’ve reached your apartment, so all you say is, “Hold on, let me get my keys.”

“Oh, hey, I can help you with that—”

“No, it’s okay, I got it—”

In the fumble of dry cleaning, backpacks, sports duffels, and totes between you two, somehow every single container of brownies tumbles out of your bag. Jake’s eyes catch on the hasty letters you’d scrawled on duct tape on the lids of each container last night to distinguish between the brownies you ended up making for your roommates: FOR JS & TEAM. His eyebrows shoot up as your face burns; he doesn’t want to jump to conclusions, but…

“There was also a sale on baking supplies at the grocery store,” you lie. Then, you shake your head. “Okay, no, that’s not true. I made these last night and I meant to give them to you today but I never got you at the right moment during classes, and then there was the whole thing with MJ, so I almost forgot… Anyways. You said you were worried about the seniors on the team being upset about you for stepping in as interim captain, and I’m sure they’re not so easily swayed by just baked goods, but I thought maybe you could give these to them, as a way to, like, soften the beaches, or something. It’s not much, but I promise, they’re really good.”

Jake’s jaw drops. “You made these… for me? Even when you hated me?”

“I made them for you to give to the team,” you insist. “But, yeah… I did.” You frown at the ground. “Look, I really am sorry about the way I treated you before. I wasn’t going to, like, trauma-dump on you, but I guess I will, now, because I want you to know that I never hated you.” You take a deep breath. “MJ’s mom is my mother, too, but she left my dad and I when I was in elementary school. I didn’t hear from her for a decade, until last year, when she reached out and told me I had a brother on the other side of the country, and she had been pregnant with him when she left my dad and I.” 

You chance a glance at Jake. “Please don’t look at me with pity. My dad’s a great guy, and so is my step-dad. I moved out here to be closer to MJ, and you can see how that’s going, but I love him purely, without complication. It’s just my mother who’s… complicated. Anyways, I just got MJ, so I’m a bit overprotective over him, and I was quick to paint you as the bad guy, but that’s no excuse. These are I’m-sorry-for-jumping-to-conclusions brownies. And bribe-your-team brownies.”

He shakes his head. “I’m not looking at you with pity.” It’s awe, he thinks. Awe for your heart, loyal to the point of changing schools and moving across the country for a brother you had never met. Awe for your diligence in making enough brownies to feed an entire team. And most of all, awe at your goodness, for doing all of this because you knew you were in the wrong.

“Can you look at her somewhere where you’re not blocking the doorway?” Sunghoon’s voice pierces through the strange moment. You and Jake move into action all at once, collecting containers of brownies while juggling your other things.

“Thanks for the help, dude.” Jake punches Sunghoon’s shoulder sarcastically. 

Sunghoon shrugs and holds up the shopping bags in his hands. “Precious goods, my man.”

Jake peers into one of the bags. “Tiramisu?”

“Yeah, Yizhuo was on my ass about contributing to dinner.” Sunghoon rolls his eyes fondly. “She also told me to marshall the troops for the mac ‘n cheese, so Heeseung and Jay are a couple minutes behind me. Seriously, did you guys buy out the entire grocery store, or something?”

You laugh as you unlock the door and usher them inside. “Or something.” You had heard that the sale really was quite good, but truthfully, you suspect there’s more to it than that. Based on the way Somi exaggeratedly darts her eyes between you and Jake, you think you’re probably right. You get the sense that even if you hadn’t invited him for dinner, he would have shown up with Sunghoon’s contingent anyways.

“Ladies, you are so not slick,” you mutter to your friends when it’s just the four of you in the kitchen.

Minjeong smiles beatifically at you. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. This is just an impromptu but no less lovely dinner party for our friends… oh, there’s the door! I’ll get it.” 

In a sense, you suppose she’s right. It’s not like Jake is the only other person at this semi-spontaneous gathering; eventually, there are almost 20 people eating mac ‘n cheese on various surfaces in your apartment. It’s an eclectic bunch— pretty much anyone you or your friends knew who was available to come eat mac ‘n cheese. But Minjeong insists that you and Jake share an armchair in the living room because there’s nowhere else to eat, even though there is clearly an open chair next to Heeseung and a free spot on the rug next to some kid from your programming class last year.

“This is really good!” Jake enthuses. He says it while shoveling food into his mouth, so it sounds more like Vif iv weally good! He’s also eating with his non-dominant hand to keep from spilling anything on you where you’re pressed up against each other in the armchair, though that turns out to be fairly counterproductive because he keeps missing his mouth with the fork.

Your head tips back in a fit of giggles. “You look ridiculous,” you inform him. He just grins at you with chipmunk cheeks stuffed with tiramisu. “Here, let me.” You take the fork from his hand and feed him a mouthful; it’s much more efficient this way, you reason to yourself.

He’s so startled by this that he starts choking on the dusting of cocoa powder atop the dessert. You end up thumping him on the back until his airway is clear again, and he hopes you chalk up the redness of his face to the choking. 

“Um, you have a little…” You motion to a spot of cocoa powder at the corner of his mouth. He wipes at entirely the wrong corner, and you’d think he was doing this on purpose, except he starts choking again when you use your thumb to wipe the powder away.

He gets over it much more quickly this time, though. Once he’s finally back to normal, he wills himself to summon all— or any— of the charm he has ever possessed to turn warm eyes on you. “Thanks for inviting me here tonight,” he says. There’s a slight rasp to his voice that is probably due to all the choking, but he hopes you think it’s sexy, or something.

“Oh, it’s no big deal. Thanks for helping us eat the food, and for, uh, coaching MJ, I guess?” Your voice is approaching a squeak, which makes you want to die, a little bit. He’s just looking at you so sincerely.

His gaze holds yours. “Easy day. And hey, you’re totally welcome to come join us whenever you want. I was just gonna keep meeting him at that park, so you know where to find us.”

“Thank you,” you repeat, quieter this time. “My mother… she’s hard on him. Always be good, be the best, you know? So he was pretty torn up about not making the A team.”

“I kinda sensed that he was tense during try-outs. Not that it’s bad to try hard, or to want to be on a certain team, but at his age, he could benefit from just… having fun, I think. If you don’t mind me saying that.”

You nod. “Believe me, I agree. MJ’s way too serious for his own good.”

“Some may say he gets it from you,” Jake teases lightly. 

“Some may say that’s not how genetics work, but we’ll leave that to the pre-meds.” You tip your head toward Yizhuo, who is arguing about some memory from hers and Sunghoon’s childhood with him. Your heart glows with contentment as you look around the room; all of your favorite people (plus or minus miscellaneous others) gathered in one place on a random Monday night. 

Jake carves out a piece of his tiramisu and holds it up to you like a toast. “To the pre-meds. And old friends, and new ones.” 

“And new ones,” you echo.  

As it turns out, the soccer team is exactly as easily swayed as a container of brownies. 

You’re at practice when it winds down and Jake holds up your stack of containers like Simba in that one scene in The Lion King. “A gift from the lady,” he intones grandly to the team gathered in front of him. You nudge him with your hip. “Okay, and me, I guess, but seriously, she did all the work. Listen, guys, I’m not gonna lie— it’s gonna be rough without Sungchan. But I believe in us, and I believe in these brownies!”

“Brownies!” The team roars back. Said brownies are demolished in a matter of minutes, and then every player makes it a point to sing your praises and give Jake a hug or a fist-bump on their way out. 

You’re still gaping by the time it’s just you and Jake left on the field. “That’s all it took?” 

Jake turns to you with his arms crossed smugly over his chest. “Hmm? Oh, yeah. The way to the heart is through the stomach, and all that.”

“Otherwise known as: men are so easy.” You bemoan all the fancy ingredients and time you put into those brownies; you’re sure the team would have been just as happy with boxed Betty Crocker. 

“Yeah, but these taste like care and love,” he insists. 

“Alright, buddy, I wouldn’t go that far. And how would you know? You haven’t even tried one yet.”

“Oh my god. You’re right.” Jake looks aghast. “Are there any left?!” 

You make a show of looking around at all the empty containers around you. Jake’s face falls so comically and he pouts so fervently that you can’t keep up the ruse for long. Laughing, you pull out one last ziplock bag of brownies from behind your back and present it to him. “Saved one just in case.”

He plucks the bag out of your hands with exaggerated delicacy, which vanishes when he bites into the brownie and lets out an honest to god moan. Heat floods your face immediately. 

His eyes are closed when he tells you, quite seriously, that you are a goddess amongst mortals. “Did you drug this? I feel like I’ve ascended to a new plane of existence.” He moans, again, eyes still closed.

“Hello, stop making that sound, you weirdo,” you hiss. 

He cracks one eye open to wink at you. “Where is your mind? Get out of the gutter, ma’am. Ow, okay, I get it!” He jumps away from your jabbing elbows. “Seriously, these are incredible. You could make money off of them.” 

“You’re just saying that because you want me to make them again, for free.” 

“Will you?”

“... Maybe if you let me look at how you got to your answer on number 89 on page 151.”

Jake’s hoot of delight carries you all the way to the library, where he shows you his usual spot and apologizes for ever making you uncomfortable with his staring— it’s just that you used to occupy the spot to which his eyes zoned out.

You give him a blank stare of your own. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I never noticed that you sat here. Or that you stared.”

Jake’s blush starts from the bridge of his nose and spreads out across his cheeks. “Oh, well, that’s good, I guess.”

“But I can sit next to you now, and you can stare all you want,” you offer jokingly.

His blush only intensifies. “Nope, that’s fine, I’ll just keep zoning out at whoever they replaced you with at the reference desk. Great, it’s… Huening.” He waves unenthusiastically at the lanky boy.

“Who?” You squint at your replacement.

“Huening Kai. He’s on the basketball team with Heeseung.” 

“Are all of your friends athletes?”

“Not all, but most of them, yeah. Sunghoon and Jay are doubles partners on the tennis team, and they were roommates with Heeseung and I, respectively, so that’s how we all became friends. But I’ve got other friends in the physics department. And now, you.” Jake smiles softly at you, letting the words linger in the air for so long that your pulse starts to pick up speed.

“So, this is the famous staring, huh?” You mean for the words to come out friendly and light, but instead they come out low and musing.

“The one and only.”

“Hmm. It doesn’t make me uncomfortable, if that’s what you’re wondering.” And you mean it. His gaze is warm and easy, like the blanket a loved one draws up over your shoulders when you’re half-asleep.

Confidence returns to him like a boomerang as the corner of his mouth tips up in a smirk. “Are you giving me permission to stare at you?”

“Five minutes of staring for every problem you let me look at in your notebook.”

“We’re bargaining now?” He tsks and pulls out his work, though his shoulders are shaking with laughter. “How about this: you can look at my notebook for as long as you want, if you let me do the same for yours.”

“That’s just called working together, Jake.”

“Sure, but I also get to stare at you.”

“Tough deal for me.” But you’re staring at him, too, and there’s something hesitant and wanting brewing in your chest. It goes away when you clear your throat. “I’m feeling benevolent today, so I’ll allow it.”

Two hours pass by as you work on problem sets in companionable silence. He does stare at you more often than is perhaps necessary, but half of the time it’s because he really is zoning out. The other half… well, just because you’re friends now doesn’t mean you stopped being pretty.

When you finally decide to call it quits, it’s almost 8pm, and both of your stomachs are growling loudly. Jake yawns and stretches leisurely, like a large puppy. You’d laugh at the sight if you weren’t so transfixed by the ripple of a toned stomach exposed by his stretching. Suddenly, you remember that the soccer team does strength training for an hour every other day, and Jake is no exception.

Thankfully, he’s too busy complaining about being hungry to notice your wandering eyes. “Ugh, I think the dining hall is closing now. I have ramen back at my place, if you wanna—” Jake cuts himself off abruptly as he realizes the innuendo behind his words. “I mean, not like that. You probably have food at your apartment, what am I even saying, haha!” His voice goes high-pitched towards the end. 

Mercifully, you ignore his slip-up. “Yeah, actually, we still have mac ‘n cheese left, so I’m probably going to microwave some of that. You’re welcome to take some home with you, if you want.” You shake your head immediately after the words come out of your mouth. “What am I even saying? You have ramen back at your place.”

And then you’re back at square one, both staring at each other with wide eyes and heat creeping up your necks.

Jake is the first to break the silence with peals of laughter that dissolve into giggles. You’re not far behind, and it isn’t long before Huening is glaring at the two of you and miming zipping his lips shut.

The two of you make your way out of the library still giggling, but right outside the library doors, Jake asks if he can walk you home. There’s a shy, boyish look on his face when he asks; it stirs up that strange, stumbling desire in you again. 

“I really don’t live that far,” you murmur. 

“I’m trying to get my steps in,” he jokes. He knows you saw him running back and forth across the field for two hours during practice today.

“I really don’t live that far,” you repeat, already starting in the direction of your apartment. When you don’t hear him follow, you turn around and quirk an eyebrow at him. “Aren’t you coming? Can’t have the star player missing his steps.”

He grins and catches up to you quickly, and then he spends the next ten minutes badgering you for more compliments. You have never felt so warm on the walk home.

Just as promised, you let MJ come to the next home game. It’s your first game as an assistant manager, so between keeping an eye on MJ and keeping an eye on your actual responsibilities, you’re pretty frazzled before the game even starts. 

You’re settling MJ into a spot on the bleachers when someone taps your shoulder. You turn around to gasp at the sight of Jake. “Your hair!” The jet-black strands are no more; his hair is now a silvery-tinged blonde.

His smirks as he runs his fingers through his hair. “Team bonding thing we do every year. Jay did it for me this time, though, so it looks better than it normally does.” He crouches down to MJ’s seated level. “Hey, buddy, be kind and stay put for your sister, alright? She’s got a big job today.”

MJ stands up and nods solemnly, then salutes Jake with two fingers that turn into finger guns. The whole display is so ridiculously adorable that everyone around you in the bleachers laughs.

Jake repeats the gesture back at MJ through his own giggles before straightening up and turning to you. “Feeling nervous?”

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?”

“Nah, the playing is easy. Well, it’s not easy, but it’s second nature. I actually find it harder watching from the sidelines, not having any control over the action.” He peers closer at you. “Are you nervous, assistant manager?”

“A little,” you admit. “I still feel like I don’t know much about soccer.”

“MJ could explain everything to you, right?” Jake high-fives your brother. “Sadly, he can’t be with you on the sidelines, but do you see that cat-looking guy over there?”

You squint in the direction Jake points in— a group of his teammates milling around on the sidelines. The cat-looking guy sports amateur-ish frosted tips which make you suppress a chuckle, but he’s easy enough to spot. “Yep, I see him. And the consequences of not having Jay around to dye your hair.”

Jake lets loose a burst of tiny giggles. “He tried his best, okay? And his name is Jungwon. Freshman with a lot of potential, but he sprained his ankle yesterday, so he’s sitting a few games out. He can tell you anything you want to know during the game.” Jake holds his pinky out to you. “You’ll be just fine. I’ll see you after the game, yeah?”

You’re speechless as you nod and wrap your pinky around his. It’s not clear to whose benefit this promise is, but your heart is tap-dancing in your chest at the realization that he came up to the bleachers just to reassure you about the game and ask to see you later. 

He releases your pinky and is halfway down the bleachers before you muster up your words to yell at his back, “Good luck!”

When he turns around, he’s beaming. “Don’t need it! You’re here, aren’t you?” Then he’s off to be with his team, and there are people whispering all around you, but all you can do is smile stupidly after him.

“You guys are acting weird,” MJ declares. 

“So weird,” Sunghoon agrees.

His sudden appearance makes you yelp. “Sunghoon? When did you get here?”

He wiggles his eyebrows at you. “Just in time to see that whole display.” He points his thumb behind him. “Yizhuo’s just getting snacks from the car. I know you wanted her to watch MJ during the game— do you mind if I tag along? I wanted to see Jake exercise authority as captain, anyways. It’s gonna be hilarious.”

“Knock yourself out. Hey, MJ, this is Sunghoon, one of Jake and Yizhuo’s friends. He’s on the tennis team, so don’t give him too much of a hard time for doing that instead of soccer, okay?” You ruffle MJ’s hair. “I’m gonna go, but I’ll see you after the game. Be kind!”

“I know!”

Down at the sidelines, you meet Jungwon and the rest of the players not in the field today. You’re tentative at first about asking Jungwon questions, but you find that he’s an enthusiastic— and entertaining— commentator. It isn’t long before the other players are clamoring to give you the low-down on what’s happening out on the field, as well as all the latest team gossip.

“... and that’s why Jisung’s girlfriend is ignoring him,” Sohee explains as the first half of the game comes to an end.

“Should you be telling me this?” You laugh, but the question is somewhat genuine.

Beomgyu pats your shoulder. “There are no secrets on the team, and you’re part of the team now!”

“There are no secrets on the team because everyone is a nosy little shit,” Jake says loudly from behind you.

As one, you and the other players turn to face him.

“Heeeeeeey, cap’n!” Jungwon salutes him with a cheeky grin. 

Jake eyes him with suspicion. “You’re not scaring off our new assistant manager, are you? We just got her.”

Mischief glints in Jungwon’s eyes. “Absolutely not. We were just telling her about Jisung’s girlfriend. We can move on to talking about the girl you stare at in the library, instead, if that’s better—”

Jake shuts him up with a (light) slap over the head. “No need, thanks!” The blush blooming over his cheeks is not lost on the team, who giggle like schoolchildren. 

“The staring really is famous,” you muse out loud.

“I just came over here to make some substitutions,” Jake huffs. Then, like he can’t help it, he shoots you a small smile. “You doing alright?”

You salute him like Jungwon did. “No complaints, captain.” To your delight, he appears flustered by the title coming out of your mouth.

“O-Okay, so Beomgyu, you’re gonna sub in. Wonbin, too, and…” 

The second half of the game goes by in a flash; before you know it, Jake has assisted Beomgyu in scoring the final goal, and your team wins 2-1. The crowd is jubilant, and you’re more animated about the win than you had expected. You join in on all the cheering and applauding with enthusiasm to rival that of MJ, whose screeches of delight you can hear all the way down the bleachers.

You can’t even try to look for Jake at first— every player seems to have welcomed you into their hearts now, so you’re bombarded with a chorus of congratulatory hollers and See you tomorrow! and Thanks for the advice! as they gradually leave the field. 

You’re reassuring Anton that it’s not embarrassing to go to the writing tutors at the library for help when Sunghoon and Yizhuo approach with MJ skipping in between them. Anton thanks you profusely before running off to the locker room, and then MJ is talking your ear off about how cool the game was. In between his exclamations, you thank Sunghoon and Yizhuo for staying with him.

“MJ’s pretty cool. Text me anytime you need someone to hang with him during a game,” Sunghoon offers. “Or Heeseung or Jay. We come to these pretty often, since we’re all on our off seasons right now, so there’s usually one of us here.”

You smile genuinely at him. “That’s really nice of you, Sunghoon. Thank you.”

Yizhuo tsks. “Men do the bare minimum.” She ignores Sunghoon’s half-hearted protests and kisses your cheek in farewell. “We have to go— double date. I’ll see you at home!”

You wave goodbye with equal parts amusement and bemusement, and then you turn to the field. At this point, MJ has run off to play with the few stragglers still kicking a ball around, so you watch them for a few minutes with a content smile on your face. 

“Hey.” Jake sidles up to you without a sound and then chuckles when you jump in surprise. 

You swat at his shoulder halfheartedly. “You just missed Sunghoon. He and Yizhuo are going on a… double date.”

“With each other? Or, like, they’re each going with someone else?”

“Y’know, it wasn’t clear.” 

“Man, I’ll have to interrogate him when he gets back. But besides that… how’d you like the game, lucky?” Jake looks expectantly at you. 

“I think I understood, like, 60 percent of the game, which is pretty good if you consider that I was probably at 10 percent before today.” You give him the same look. “What does ‘lucky’ refer to? Is that some kind of soccer slang?”

He looks away and runs a hand through his hair, suddenly bashful and bambi-eyed. “No, it’s just me being dumb, I guess. This is the first game we won this season, and it’s the first one you were at, so you’re like… a lucky charm.”

There are many things you could say. Correlation doesn’t equal causation, for one; every fledgling scientist knows this. And there has only been one other game this season, so your data set is quite sparse to begin with. Instead, all that comes out of your mouth is a slightly skeptical but mostly teasing: “I thought you said you didn’t need luck. And what if I was here and you lost instead?”

“Then I would’ve been lucky just to see you on the sidelines,” Jake murmurs. 

You are not usually moved by sentiment. But this one is so sweet and sincere tripping off his tongue, delivered with those warm brown eyes; once again, you’re rendered speechless by Jake Sim.

Beomgyu coughs loudly, thoroughly dispersing the pink clouds you half expect to see floating around you and Jake. “Sorry to interrupt,” Beomgyu snickers. “But I think your brother is ready to go home.” He points to where MJ is slumped over on a bench, eyes droopy and hair sticking to his forehead. 

The sight makes you smile fondly. “He’s had a big day. We’ll get going, then. Bye, guys!” You wave to the rest of the players on the field and get a few hollers in return as you and Jake walk over to MJ, who seems to have nodded off completely by now. 

He looks so young like this— and so peaceful that you don’t want to wake him. You’re debating how to get MJ home with the least amount of disturbance possible when Jake solves the problem for you by crouching down and putting MJ on his back.

“Did you drive here?” Jake asks you in a whisper.

“Yeah,” you whisper back. 

Jake hoists MJ further up on his back and secures his arms under the little boy’s legs. “C’mon, I’ll take him to your car.”

He starts walking in the direction of the parking lot, but you’re stuck in place, struck by the sight of Jake moving so slowly, careful not to disturb MJ’s sleep. Here is this guy you lambasted endlessly in your mind and multiple times to his face, all because of an assumption you made, and he’s holding your brother like a treasure. The sight makes your heart ache with inexplicable tenderness. 

Dusk bleeds into night as the stars peek out across a velvet sky, and the poets would say that the stars bear witness to this— the moment when that stumbling, hesitant desire in you begins to bloom into full-bodied love.

But you will not realize this until much later, because the heavens are fickle, and there is no easy way from the earth to the stars.

[misc-obeyme]

For the event, may I request “Let me try.” with Solomon? (Not sure if that prompt has been taken already lol)

Anyhow, have a wonderful day/evening ^^

Hello, anon!

That prompt was indeed available, so you're good! I really debated with myself about whether to make this one angsty or not, but in the end I went with fluff. This is because several prompts have been chosen for Solomon and I have no doubt that at least a few of them will end up on the angsty side of things! Also I took some artistic liberties with potion ingredients, so there's that lol.

Thank you for participating!

1,000 Followers Event!

GN!MC x Solomon with prompt "Let me try."

Warnings: none!

There was something all consuming about trying to master a potion, especially when the ingredients needed to have precise measurements, the concoction called for exact swirling motions, and the complexity of it both challenged and excited you.

It was already past dinner, but you couldn't tear yourself away from the potions lab at RAD. It was your last class and you had told Belphie to go on home without you. The professor had given you permission to stay late and work on it. Neither of them had likely realized just how long you would stay there, completely distracted by your attempts to make the potion work.

The table you were working at was full of discarded bottles, bits of ingredients, and several loose pages of notes you had been making as you went along.

You had turned off the sound on your D.D.D. so that you could concentrate. It was sitting face down on the table nearby, most likely full of notifications from concerned demons. You were sure that Belphie had told the others you had decided to stay behind, but they likely thought you'd have come home by now.

You didn't have time to worry about that, though. You were going to make this potion work if it meant staying up all night long.

It wasn't that this particular potion did anything that mattered to you. In fact, you were pretty sure it was only meant to give the drinker heightened hearing. A fairly basic thing, but for some reason the potion itself was complicated. You'd likely never use it for anything, but that wasn't the point anymore.

You carefully poured a flask of sparkling liquid into the little bowl you were using to mix ingredients.

A single drop caused the potion to explode.

You yelped, backing up and waving at the air around you, which was now full of noxious green smoke.

"MC?"

You whirled around, startled. Who would be here at RAD at this hour?

You relaxed as you recognized Solomon standing in the doorway to the lab.

You let out a breath. "Solomon, you scared me."

Solomon came into the room to stand beside you. He smiled apologetically. "Sorry about that. I heard you yell, so I wanted to make sure you were all right. What are you doing?"

You told him about the potion and how you couldn't seem to make it work right.

"Hmm," Solomon said, looking over your piles of ingredients and pages of notes. "I'm sure you won't be happy to hear this, but I think you've mixed up some of the ingredients."

You frowned. "That can't be right. I've been using this list all night." You picked up a page from your pile, indicating the list you had jotted down during the lecture earlier that afternoon.

Solomon took the paper from your hand and leaned in to show you what he was looking at. He pointed at one of the items on your list. "This says you need devil grass, but the ingredient is actually devil sweetgrass. And this lists powdered devilstone, but it should be powered bloodstone."

"How did I write down two ingredients wrong?" you asked.

Solomon chuckled. "I don't know, MC, but that's likely the problem. Do you want me to help you try it with the right ingredients?"

You turned to look at him, about to refuse his help, but you paused. Solomon had been standing quite close to you so that you could see the ingredient list in his hand. Now you found yourself looking into his eyes. You took in the soft smile on his lips, the way he seemed to be looking at you with an overwhelming fondness.

And even though you were determined to get the potion right because now it was a matter of pride, you found you also didn't want him to leave.

"You don't mind?" you asked. "I know it's late."

"You should know by now that I don't mind helping you at any hour," Solomon said. "You're my apprentice, after all. What kind of teacher would I be if I left you to struggle with this alone?"

You huffed and took the list out of his hand. "I just can't believe I wrote these down wrong. I have to make the potion now or I'll never be able to rest."

"You're almost there," Solomon said, looking at the ingredients on the table. "You just need to change those two things."

Solomon found the missing ingredients in the lab's supply closet and brought them back over to you. The potion's meticulous instructions required the devil sweetgrass to be chopped in a specific way. You had been chopping the wrong ingredient, but you were fairly certain you had been doing it correctly.

You picked up the knife and were about to start, but Solomon stopped you by putting his hand over yours.

"You need to tilt the knife a little more like this," Solomon said, repositioning your hand.

The feeling of his hand on yours, the way you could sense him standing so close behind you, made you forget what you were doing momentarily.

You took a deep breath and began to chop. "Like this?"

"You're doing great, MC," Solomon said, still standing close behind you.

He lifted his hand from yours and let you continue on your own, but you instantly missed his touch. You scolded yourself mentally. You were here to make a potion and Solomon was here to help you. You shouldn't be letting yourself get distracted like this.

You were hyper aware of everything Solomon was doing as he guided you through the steps of making the potion. Every time he passed you some ingredients, your fingers brushed against his. You found you had a hard time looking away from his hands when he was demonstrating how to stir the potion properly. And he was always meeting your eyes, causing you to feel a little twist in your stomach.

You did your best to pretend that you were completely focused on the potion you were making. You hoped it was enough to cover up how distracted you were just by Solomon's presence.

When the potion was finally done, you looked down at the bowl and smiled. It was the correct shade of light green and nothing had exploded at all.

You grinned at Solomon. "It worked! Finally! I thought I was going to be here all night!"

Solomon smiled back at you. "Are you sure it worked? Don't you want to test it?"

You looked back down at the green potion. Certainly a potion for enhancing your hearing wouldn't be dangerous to test, right? But for some reason you were apprehensive. Probably because you had seen all the failed versions of it you had made previously.

Solomon seemed to know what you were thinking. He laughed lightly. "Why don't I test it, instead?"

You were about to protest, but you didn't have a chance. Solomon picked up the bowl and took a sip of the potion you had finally finished making.

You stared at him, eyes wide. "Did it work?"

Solomon met your eyes. "I can hear the clock ticking in the next room over. I would say that's a success."

You slumped in relief. You had been afraid something terrible was going to happen to him.

Solomon put a hand on your arm and smiled at you. "Well done, MC. I'm proud of you."

These words, his touch, caused a thrill to go through you. You tried to act nonchalant, smiling back at him.

Solomon cocked his head a little, as though listening. "MC, I can hear your heart racing."

All hope you had of keeping your composure vanished as you felt the heat rising in your face. You instantly covered it with your hands, backing away from him in your embarrassment.

Solomon laughed a little, reaching out to stop you. "You don't have to be embarrassed."

You peeked at him from between your fingers. "You're teasing me on purpose, aren't you? You've been doing it this whole time."

Solomon's amused chuckle revealed all. "You got me. How can I make it up to you?"

You turned your back to him, face still covered by your hands. "You can't!"

You were truly embarrassed and you didn't think your blush would be dying down any time soon.

You didn't move as you felt Solomon come up behind you, putting a hand on your back.

"Let me try," he said quietly into your ear.

That fluttering feeling returned to your stomach. You let him turn you around, let him gently pull your hands away from your face, let him tilt your chin to make you look at him.

When Solomon kissed you, you let yourself step into the circle of his arms, let yourself embrace that flutter in your gut, let yourself forget your embarrassment as you lost yourself in the feeling of his lips on yours.

You let yourself give in because you were beginning to realize just how much Solomon meant to you. When you were struggling, he was there to help you, even if he teased you along the way. It was how he let you know that despite his status as the most powerful sorcerer in the three worlds, he still just wanted to be with you. And who were you to hold that against him?

1,000 Followers Event | masterlist | Thank you for reading!

[3cremepie3]

Saw you were asking for twst requests…

Can I request the dorm leaders + Rook and Floyd reaction when mc/Yuu turns into a goose? I was thinking something like mc/Yuu turned into a goose from a potion class accident, and they act like the goose from Untitled Goose Game, but cuddlier. Like they are still a little menace, but also want to be pet and cuddled. Idk just have had this idea for a while but don’t really write fics or headcannons.

If you don’t want to do this request I completely understand as it is a bit odd. I hope you have a great day/night!

P.S.

here’s a turtle for u 🐢

Would you still love me if I was a goose? 🪿

Sypnopsis - how the Twst dorm leaders + Rook and Floyd would act if Y/n became a goose.

Warnings - destruction of property, miscommunication, swan favoritism, not fully edited (I'm writing this late at night)

A/n - this was so adorable poor Twst boys having to deal with y/n lol!

Leona

Would not stop making fun of you. How could you be so stupid as to mistake that potion for your water? Now you're a goose for 24 hours. He can not stop cracking up as Crewel removes him from class. He’s given the assignment to take care of you. Animals other than beastmen aren’t normal around campus someone like Ruggie might just try to cook you up.

After he tells you this you honk in fear trailing behind him. “Let’s go to your dorm some beastmen might smell you and try to dig in,” he laughs. You bite his tail in retaliation and he slaps you with it knocking your small body on the ground. “Sorry, I didn’t realize how fragile geese are.” He picked you up by the wing to examine you.

Your hair was still the same color and despite having no human features he could still see your scowl. “Cute as always he chuckled.

Riddle

Was awe-struck as Ace and Deuce told him the story. But he was even more awestruck at your behavior. Dating him meant following the rules but your new form brought out a new you. One that terrorized anyone in the rose garden. Your behavior of biting, honking, and chasing members away caught his attention.

“What is the meaning of this behavior,” he yelled. You honked back running away from him. He followed you as you shifted through bushes to your usual hangout spot. “Oh I see you just wanted to lead me here,” he grinned.

“Even in goose form, you’re the same.”

Vil

Would come home to find his dorm room a mess. Most of his makeup was half opened and he almost died in that spot seeing his flower knows collection spattered about. “Who would do something like this,” he gasped.

He turned to see you hiding in a corner of his bed behind his weight. He picked you up by your legs dangling you upside down. You honked at him so loudly that the hair blew away from his face.

“What’s the problem spudling you keep wailing about?” You honked turning your head to his nightstand. Vil looked dropping you on his bed. “I do makeup,” he stuttered. “Oh, you want to do my makeup?”

“You still have your priorities straight even in goose form I see.”

Azul

“You’re staying in here until you can stop harassing my customers.” Azul slammed the door to his office locking you in. The mostro lounge was an absolute mess and as much as he loved your presence normally you oh were now bad for business.

Jade and Floyd had to chase you and you were an expert at hopping over tables and into customers food. Such a wide variety was in your hands you ate squid and caviar. It was yummy until they finally caught you. “You’re lucky we don’t cook you up geese meat is hard to come by,” Azul smirked.

You wailed around trying to escape his grasp but he ultimately caught you. Now you waited in his office hopping and flying off his desk. “I’m back.” He came in his office kicking off his shoes and sitting in his office chair exhausted as usual.

You honked as quietly as possible trying to get his attention before you flew into his lap. Your head settled on your body as you relaxed.

“You still want to sit in my lap even in goose form? God you helpless,” he huffed.

Kalim

Would be understanding. Animals and him just clicked he shared no blood with beastmen yet they were always friendly to him. People side-eyed the both of you running along Scarabia’s open architecture.

You played the iconic game of duck duck goose. This new form wasn’t anywhere as limiting as you thought. Your boyfriend took good care of you bringing you were ever you requested and feeding you bird food they already had on hand.

At the end of the day, you honked happily snuggling with him. “Aww was that a I love you,” he asked.

Rook

The day with him would be a content one. He kept you in his room hidden away from Vil and others that may be upset with you there. Geese aren’t exactly a form of beauty they aren’t white and pure like swan. But Rook didn’t care to him you were the most beautiful bird to grace the planet.

That's why he watched you like the huntsman he was. He noted how your mannerisms stayed the same. Your head moved although you were rolling your eyes as he whispered sweet nothings to you. And you plopped down on his chest like normal.

“I’m sure you’d be beautiful even as a frog darling. But I don’t think that can compare to this form.”

Floyd

This would be the best day of his life. He just couldn’t stay bored while dating you. Now instead of his lil Shrimpy you’re a goose. One that looked dangerously small in his large hands.

He was tasked with watching you meaning you had to go with practice and work with him. You tried your best to sit on the sidelines but people were quick to almost trample over you. So you bit their legs. Eventually, the others protested over your presence and agreed to kick you out.

You honked them out and flipped them off with your imaginary hand. “Y’all heard them,” Floyd chuckles. Obviously, he wouldn’t be able to bring you to work. That was boring anyway he had better ideas.

“How about we test your swimming skills, lil ducky?” You honked instantly trying to escape his arms.

Idia

Would be in full-on panic mode. You an animal near his thousand-dollar equipment. You could kiss that dream goodbye. Ramshackle would be your habitat. He dropped you off there saying he had a 1v1 to handle with a sweat. He rushed back quickly not noticing you wailing behind him.

Soon he was in Ignihyde preparing for his match. “Ortho prepare your applause,” he snickered. He turned to look at his doorway expecting his brother but no you were there tiny in fracture but bold enough to disturb his peace.

“Ahhh how are you even more annoying as a peaceful animal troublemaker,” he sighed.

(I had no idea what I could’ve done for malleus sorry 😶)

[komohine]

Final headcanon for tonight! College au again

Keith and James, Keith being an anthropology/journalism dual major and James being a finance major with a minor in business, dont really have overlapping classes. They didn’t know eachother in first year when all the breadth electives were taken (and Keith was in a diff major then too, he switched halfway through sem 2), so the only real class time they get together after they start dating is coordinated breadth electives.

Its a shame the most interesting sounding elective they found turned out to be the most mind bogglingly boring 8AM, 3 hour long with no breaks and marked participation (iclicker anyone?) lecture ever. And they weren’t lucky enough to get their tutorials together (rip).

Keith doesn’t give a fuck so he shows up to class (James has to physically drag him out of bed every Thursday morning just for this class) and immediately just falls back asleep on James’ shoulder. James, being a sweetheart and also having a reputation to uphold, tries his very best to stay awake and to answer the questions that are projected for both him and Keith (he is single handedly carrying keith’s participation grade).

After the lecture, keith will walk james to his next class before going home to sleep more. Because god knows keith saw that horrific 3 hour long morning lecture and made sure the rest of the day was clear so he could sleep. James. James is a busy man, and clearly he doesn’t like taking breaks.

James will also often just give Keith the key to his dorm so he can sleep there, just because James’ dorm is much closer to the lecture hall than Keith’s (keith has to walk across the huge campus to go home whereas james’ dorm is pretty much right next to the building the lecture is held in) and he feels kind of bad making keith walk all the way back. Ryan gets pretty used to Keith’s presence pretty quickly. He’s not usually in the dorm by then though so it doesn’t matter so much either way. And keith thoroughly enjoys the top notch mattress topper and bedding set james has.

Most days james will come back to his room during the 4 hour long gap between his classes. Most of the time he’ll just work in silence and let keith continue to sleep after keith gets up to open the door for him, sometimes he’ll also be exhausted and climb into bed to cuddle and then also sleep.

Also small side note, sorry for lack of art lately ive been workinf on bigger jaith projects so i dont have so much time for smaller illustrations (ive been trying to make up for the lack of art with my writing lol). Ill try to drop something tmr though! For now take a sneak peek/wip

[alice-ness]

*holding my hands out aggressively*

GIVE ME THE HEADCANONS

Please I am so content starved it is not even funny, I want the hight school headcanons PLEASE

I love all of them but it I had to chose for only a few I would say gimme Chip and Leaf please

Also I like that one fic u have with Logainne, and Chip, and Leaf, it's really awesome, I'm that one person who commented begging you to please continue the fic and not drop it

K that's it, hope u have a good day byeeeeee

:p

hi!!! tysm for asking here's highschool headcanons for chip and leaf! ((and sorry it took a while) 🙏🙏 ALSO im so glad u like the fic i will try to finish it but it might be a little while #busybee

in this au they all are in similar grades bc i thought abt trying to make it work in canon but it just doesn't rip

chip tolentino

- goes to highschool with marcy, leaf, and marigold

- yes he is incredibly tortured by seeing her all the time lol

- in his freshman year he had a random slump and kind of just did nothing and sulked around all the time (post child boy scout burnout/gifted kid burnout)

- like his grades were... whatever but he didn't talk to anyone and didn't do any extra curriculars

- his parents got tired of him being so suddenly lethargic-teenager so they made him join track

- he's actually really good at it, and eventually (not freshman year but eventually) he's semipopular in an awkward way where people know him but he doesn't TALK to all those people

- does really embarrassing dares with his track teammates. He's not necessarily pressured so much as he gets really into it in the moment LOL

- i put this in the fic but he ran into leaf at a club fair and they hang out now lol

- and leaf hangs out with logainne so he started hanging out with logainne

- and he has some classes with marcy and they were both in a school-rut so they bonded

- wasn't for a while that leaf naturally got the whole spelling bee group hanging out together but that was incredibly weird for chip ... bc... it's kind of weird in general

- especially hanging with barfee but they make up and they're homies (who play argue and play brawl)

- had to do a creative writing unit and discovered he's really good at that too but he's kinda embarrassed about it

- he likes like typical story writing and also nostalgic poems but he's even more embarrassed about that

- he and olive once made eye contact at a creative writing contest he went to without telling anyone and now she wards his secret

- one summer marcy got really into skateboarding and chip tried it out too to be supportive but he ate shit every. Single. time.

- chip learned to drive his junior year and really wanted a sports car but he got a shitty hand me down dad car

- one time marcy called him like "hey can you pick me up" nd he was like "from where" and she's like. "from san francisco?'

- bro how did u even get there

- he does it anyway tho

- they're like besties and they go on a lot of late night snack missions

- if they watch scary movies he will be screaming and crying and she'll be like "oh my god pay attention"

- has a crush on like every single girl he talks to

- sometimes they overlap with logainne's crushes and it's very awkward, especially bc he listens to her disaster lesbian rants at every sleepover

- he grows a really shitty puberty stache he's very proud of and EVERYONE (minus leaf who is unconditionally supportive) BEGS him to shave it

- his dad sits him down like Son. What are you doing.

- ramen and hotpockets diet (if he wanted to cook he'd be good at it tho)

- also this is just me projecting but he's filipino cuz i say so (and my word is law bc it's AAPI month /j)

- 5'5 forever... he constantly prays it'll change

- is really good at dioramas

- goes to school dances to complain in the corner the whole time about the music and the food

- could be misconstrued as mysterious but he's just awkward

- most indecisive person of all time and makes it everyone else's problem

leaf coneybear

- not ALL of his siblings made the switch to public school for high school but some did, including marigold (and pinecone who is older than them)

- it was a hard switch but it doesn't take long to find his crowd bc he's a naturally charismatic person

- his crowd is theater kids. he really loves improv and straight plays, he loves musicals too but he doesn't have great rhythm LOL

- he also LOVES helping make costumes, and in junior/senior year he's on the board

- still likes to make some of his own clothes

- was always tall for his age but had a growth spurt before freshman year and he's like. 6'1 LOL he's a stringbean

- sneaks both his cats and logainne into his school

- yes admin is tired but damn are his cats cute

- logainne is his best friend for literal life they are inseparable and will find any reason to hang out

- kind of an energy drink addict (they're not allowed in his house but he WILL drink too many anywhere else if u don't watch out and then crash and feel sick)

- (sidenote he HAS calmed down some but he can still be distractable and is still rlly high energy. Some days he takes to just completely slow down and veg out tho which is nice) (like pretty much he just won't stomp around and roar or whatever in the middle of sentences like in im not that smart 😭)

- on the complete opposite end of that he's also an organic fruit smoothie addict

- he also loves to bake and he's REALLY good at it but his younger siblings aren't allowed sugar so he will spontaneously get a bunch of ingredients and then show up at his friends' houses late at night to borrow their kitchen

- he tries to "spread the love" by doing this equally at all his friends places

- olive is his #1 baking buddy tho!

- also speaking of siblings he's the best older brother ever and he doesnt really like to be home but he'll spend time with his siblings

- .... his parents just keep havin babies

- anyway he's not as good at cooking bc it bores him so he'll get distracted and let things burn whoops

- tons of sleepovers at logainnes he's like a son to her dads

- gets a giant van to drive all his friends around in, it's decked out

- fixes holes in his friends clothes

- they all have a million friendship bracelets bc he just gets sappy and makes more or forgets he made one

- keeps everything ever given to him

- loves interactive science museums where u get to touch stuff more than ANYYYYTHIIIING. He will get lost in the dino bones

- and loves nature and hikes but mainly to look at bugs

- is the king of poster projects in class

- wasn't allowed to watch horror movies as a kid so logainne showed him some classic his freshman year and he literally couldn't sleep for a week but now he likes them, just mostly the campy stuff

- so stuff like little shop, rocky horror, r his the musicals bc it's cheesy campy horror AND theater!

- also first got social media like freshman/sophomore year and he just posts poorly taken pictures and occasionally answers his friends dms

- junior year on, a good amount of his theater peers develop like silly little crushes on him but he's completely oblivious and chip is just so jealous bc he gets no bitches

- he's the glue of the 25th annual kids bc he sort of just naturally started hanging out w them individually again and was like Oh shit why don't we all just hang out

- he is the only person marcy will cuddle

- (on that note he's the group teddy bear)

[jujutsubaby]

Hiiii! I would like have a coffee at the Heaven and Earth cafe! If possible, could I get a mocha latte with soy milk and a kouign amann on the side? Pretty please and thank you 🙏

a/n: thank you for your ask and for participating 🥹 i appreciate it sooo much and i love your order! chocolate + buttery pastries are to die for 😇

✨ WELCOME TO CAFE HEAVEN & EARTH ! ✨

🤍 PAIRING. yuta

🤍 WORD COUNT. 1.4k (sorry anon i got too carried away with this lol)

ugh, you only had 15 minutes to quickly grab your drink and a bite to eat before your 8 AM stats lecture with the notoriously strict professor kusakabe. yeah, sure you could’ve probably avoided this if you had just slept at a normal time, but alas, you were hell bent on finishing one more episode of your favorite trashy real-estate focused reality tv show. but no worries, cafe heaven & earth is known for its efficiency and speed.

that’s what you thought to yourself 8 minutes ago, when you thought you would be out of there by now. instead, right after you gave your order, you noticed the long line of people waiting for their orders. you try your best to overhear their conversations so as to better understand what was happening

“i heard there’s a disturbance in the kitchen.” “who told you that?” “i dunno, some guy with white hair came out and said it?” crap. you don’t have time for this. you frantically look at your watch, as the aforementioned white haired man came out of the kitchen nonchalantly and made an announcement. “sorry folks, there’s gonna be a delay on everyone’s orders due to a disturbance in the kitchen.”

everyone murmurs but no one says anything, but you’ve had enough. “what’s the disturbance? how long will this take? i’m in a bit of a hurry, actually.” the white haired man takes a quick glance at you and says “there’s just a disturbance. thanks.”

dumbfounded, you’re not even sure how to respond to…his lack of response? you pinch the bridge of your nose, trying to figure out if it was worth just leaving right now and risking the entire class hearing your stomach rumble, or getting chewed out by professor kusakabe. your thoughts are interrupted by a soft voice from beside you.

“running late?” your head shoots up, and you find that the owner of the voice is a young man around your age wearing crisp black jeans and a high-necked white sweater. you’re slightly annoyed. you don’t really have the time to chit chat with a stranger right now. “uh, yeah, kinda.” you say curtly. you notice that he’s a little taller than you, with gentle features befitting his polite voice. his black hair falls in his large dark blue eyes in neat curtains. most notably, though, you see prominent shadows underneath his eyes. he must also be a student.

“what class?”

“stats”

“shit, stats 153? with kusakabe?” he grimaces none too subtly.

your stomach drops. great, so you are gonna get chewed out for being late. “yeah. how fucked am i if i show up late?” he pretends to think before saying “well, depends. do you like having to explain in excruciating detail to the entire hall exactly what you were doing last night that made you late for an 8am? since that’s what he made us do when i had him last year.” hell no. there’s no way in hell you’re gonna tell anyone you were up until 2am watching selling sunset.

the white-haired man re-emerges at that moment with an order that looks mercifully familiar. “soy mocha and kouign-amann for…” you approach the pickup counter in anticipation. the employee raises a doubtful eyebrow at you before reading a name off the receipt in his hand. “...yuta?” the stranger who was just speaking with you steps in front of you and grabs his order, flashing an awkward apologetic grin at you.

as if this day couldn���t get stranger. “uh, that’s my order…” you say, but you’re not so confident anymore. “sorry, i think it’s mine. been ordering this ever since this place opened.”

“i’ve been ordering that ever since this place opened,” you say defiantly. you’re not sure if this dude is playing some joke on you or what, but you definitely don’t have time for it. 

“that’s interesting, but my name’s yuta,” he continues patiently, “so unless we also have the exact same name, i’m pretty sure this is mine this time.”

a quick glance at your watch – 5 minutes left. okay, plan aborted – people are just gonna have to deal with your noisy tummy today. “okay, well…” you’re not sure how to really say goodbye to him. “forget it. i’m just gonna get outta here. i’m late as it is…” you leave without glancing behind you as you speed walk to your lecture hall and it’s not until a couple seconds later you hear someone shouting behind you.

you turn to see…yuta? from the cafe? what’s he doing following you? oh god, is he a creep?! it suddenly occurs to your sleep-deprived mind that he might want to fight after you accidentally tried to steal his order, and you speed up.

“hey, wait! stop walking faster, geez! i’m trying to help you!” confused, you slow your pace, willing to hear him out. “what do you want?” you ask, wishing it didn’t come out as harshly as it did. 

“well, i was just wondering…y’know, seeing as we apparently have the exact same order and are both about to be late to our respective classes…” yuta clears his throat. “wanna share while we walk?”

you're skeptical, but the kouign-amann was looking so delectable in his hands that you had to double check you weren’t drooling. it didn’t help that your stomach chose that exact time to elicit a god awful noise begging for food. you acquiesce. “yeah, i’d…i’d actually really like that.” you flash him a thankful smile as you both walk to class.

“so…how come you’re running late? you seem like the type who’d have it all together,” you ask, trying to break up the silence with some small talk. you look up again at his eye bags. “up late studying, i bet?”

“hardly,” yuta answers sheepishly. “this show i’m hopelessly hooked on just dropped its new season on netflix…

you burst out laughing at the image of the polite, perfect yuta falling victim to a netflix binge. “no way, me too! what show? no, let me guess. black mirror or something?”

yuta looks at his feet and mumbles something that sounds an awful lot like selling sunset. no way. feeling just a tiny bit of sadistic glee at his embarrassment, you ask him to repeat himself.

“all right, all right! it was selling sunset! i just can’t stay away…i need to know what those ladies get up to!”

maybe it’s the way he’s blushing or your sleep deprivation, but something possesses you to reach out and pat his arm comfortingly. “don’t be ashamed,” you reassure. “only the greatest of intellectual minds can handle christine’s character arc.”

yuta gapes at you, before his eyes crinkle into a soft laugh. oh…he’s kinda cute, isn’t he…

you pass the rest of the walk discussing the off-the-rails drama of the new season as you alternate taking bites of sugary-sweet pastry and sips of mocha, and you find that you’re having a good enough time that you’re not even thinking about the reaming you’re due for in stats lecture.

soon enough, you’re outside your lecture hall, and it’s time to part ways. you sigh, knowing you’re not prepared to go in 10 minutes late. “well, this is me. right before i get my ass handed to me…”

“don’t worry, he always makes the assignments way harder than the actual tests” yuta reassures you with a bright smile. damn, he’s not kinda cute. he is cute.

“yeah, but stats just isn’t my best subject,” you say dejectedly. “i’m only taking it because i need to for my major but at this point, i dunno how i’m gonna pass the class without some divine intervention or a tutor or somethin’.” you hope yuta takes the hint.

“oh, yeah, well, if you want, i can…i can help you. i quite liked the class when i took it last year,” he says bashfully.

“really?” your eyes beam at him. “here, gimme your phone, i’ll text you about a study session, if you’re down?”

“yeah, of course!” yuta is doing an awful job of hiding the blush in his cheeks as you put your contact in his phone. “i’ll definitely need help come midterms.” you hand his phone back to him. “by the way, didn’t you say you have class? shouldn’t you…” you gesture at another lecture hall nearby yours, and he nervously scoffs.

“oh, yeah, i do, but it’s the one near northside.” northside? like the-other-side-of-campus northside? you’re confused as to why he’s even here right now. “wait, what? you’re gonna be so late for class! why did you even come here?”

yuta fidgets with his fingers, doing an awful job of maintaining eye contact with you. “it’s well…i dunno, i just thought maybe being a couple minutes late so i could share my kouign-amann with a cute girl might be worth it.”

[blazeanarchism]

Hi! There’s not much Winx fics on here and I noticed you were doing requests for them.

Would you be able to do a Riven x Reader fluff? Maybe where Riven x Fairy! Reader who also trains as a specialist and they are secretly dating. They end up fighting/training with each other to see who’s the best but reader gets injured and he feels so guilty and tries to make up for it. Then everyone sees how soft Riven is with reader and connects the dots LOL

Or you can just do your own plot/storyline & like kinks, that’s totally fine with me! Thanks!

"Secretly Soft"

Authors note: one question; marry me ❤️ /j I LOVE THIS TYSM FEEL FREE TO SEND IN MORE WINX REQUESTS!! (I'm also sorry this is so late I have things in drafts that I thought I had posted??)

Warnings: Blood, Fighting, fem reader, teasing

It was weirdly a warmer day on Alfea but wearing all black tachnical gear didn't help.[Name] was wearing her hair up in a pony tail, her top zipped down a little so she wasn't so hot. She carried a dagger on her left thigh her sword strapped to her back, she for lack of better words were a fair but never used her magic unless on the field. It took alot of convincing from Silva to even train here instead of training her magic. [Name] felt a presence coming from behind her hand nearly reaching for her dagger however she knew who it was as soon as the person stood next to her and their hands brushed eachother.

"Are you just gonna watch like a hawk today or are you actually gonna move and get your ass beat?" He said with his normal shit eating grin. It was Riven Thorp. She rolled her eyes and elbowed his arm a bit. [Name] and Riven have been dating for almost 8 months now, it was hard keeping their relationship hidden, especially from Sky and Bloom. Those two constantly pointing out how they would be a good couple.

Riven and [Name] have always agreed to keep things private, mostly due to the fact that both of them valued their privacy and kept the PDA behind doors. "Like I'll ever give you the entertainment of that" She bites back as she watches Silva gather everyone for the next training session. Riven leans down "I'd certainly rather be watching you do something else right now." He says just for her to hear before he winks at her with a special gleam in his eyes before he makes way to the groups. [Name] smiled and rolled her eyes as she joined the rest of them standing next to some of the newer trainees with her arms crossed.

"Today will be a little different; higher classed specialists will be paired in duo's and will fight while lower class specialists analyze the fights to use as their own." Silva announced. Calling out duos "Noura and Sky. [Name] and Riven].... Alright, get into formations." Silva announces and her heart drops a little but she could use the challenge as she gets into formation Riven next to her. He looks over with that look of Are you sure about this? She looks at him and just nods once before watching each match.

It was intense today, the sun blaring down on everyone as each duo fought and it was rough. Sky and Noura were next, they ended with Sky winning even though they both had equal amount of cuts on both of them. It was too hot at this point of the two walked to the mats. [Name] peeling off her jacket from her skin and laying it on the floor.

Riven had watched her as she flipped her sword doing Lil tricks with it, her dagger still strapped to her thigh waiting for Silva to call it. Riven knew her the back of his hand the flips and tricks were a nervous tick she did before most matches but that doesn't mean she'll go easy. "Begin!" Silva announces, and she strikes. All the specialist were leaning in close as they watched the two metal on metal and grunts being heard from the two.

[Name] swung her sword nicing him on the cheeck she almost paused to assess the damage if he didn't swing with twice the force. She ducked, tucking herself and rolling back nearly off the mat and into the small pond of water as she got up. Specialists were rooting for [Name] yells and encouragement being heard. The two went at it for longer both having a few cuts in. Riven swung his leg out to knock her off her feet, [Name] saw it and jumped but it did not protect her from the opening on her ribs and he sliced, it was deeper then a nic but not enough to be superficial.

[Name] fell to the mat in pain as she huffed pain reaching all over as she tapped the mat signaling she was done. "bloody hell.." Riven through his sword on the mat somewhere as he slid in beside her. He pulled her close her head on his lap "Shit, I'm so sorry love.." He whispers as he looks to see the cut. It had cut through her gear and nearly all the way through muscle. There were whispers from the specialists Noura and Sky with shit eating grins. "I owe Farah 20 now bloody hell" Silva mutters quietly.

Before Silva could even say or call infirmary Riven picked her up and brought him there himself. Walking through the field whispering encouragement "you did quite the number today" "nearly beat me" "you did so good" [Name] had to remind him that it was a cut, not a kill shot and that she was okay despite the pain. Terra made some healing potion to help her and had her lay in the private beds to rest and let magic do it's work. [Name] had fallen asleep while Riven held her hand his head resting against them.

It had been a couple hours since and he didn't move from where he sat, Sky had even brought him food knowing his best friend wouldn't have left her to get any. He had so many questions. "How long?" Sky asked and Riven explained anything but Sky was no where near mad he smiled. "Do you truly love her?" Sky asks remembering rivens old tendencies and Riven nods. Sky knows its genuine but he just needed to see it.

It was later in the night she had woken up, groaning from aches as she made move to sit up. Riven immediately helping, he looks at her and it reminds her of a sad puppy almost. "I'm so sorry love, i had not meant for it to cut deeper then it did." [Name] ran a hand through his hair as he rested his head on her tummy "You could always make it up to me"

She teased as he hummed kissing her tummy before lifting his head to kiss her. It was soft, and gentle she knew that he had sincerely regretted it. She hummed as his kissed trailed down her neck nipping at her pressure point before leaving slow kisses down her chest, stomach his fingers curling around the waist band of her pants as he looks at her that devious gleam back in his eyes......

Annnnnnd that's where I'm gonna end that! I hope that was to your liking!!