#I had to keep from giggling to myself in class because it's kind of a neat yet absolutely ridiculous idea and they quickly scrapped the idea

[feralnumberfive]

So I learned today that back in WWII the RAF tested a night-fighting strategy where they would send up an aircraft (a modified A-20 Havoc/Boston) that had a giant spotlight and radar on it with night fighters (Hurricanes) to seek out German bombers. The Boston would locate the bomber(s) and then shine its giant spotlight on them and illuminate the bomber so that the fighters could attack it

It's the ultimate version of "Get his ass"

[shokover]

12:45am — gojo satoru ;

“cute earrings, where’d you get them?” shoko asks.

“hm?” still clinging to sleep, you absentmindedly reach up to caress the metal dangling from your ear. the sharp indents of its gem pricks you back into a memory. “oh, these. i got them from a friend last week.”

“friend? or do you mean boyfriend?”

shoko’s words are throwaway, her wandering eyes and yawn a clear indication yet your face warms despite yourself. shaking your head furiously, you exclaim, “a friend! just a friend."

shoko hums, shifting her cigarette to the other end of her mouth. her gaze flickers somewhere behind you and you almost look too, when her words pull you back. “come to think of it, i don’t think you’ve ever told me what your type was.”

“my type?” your mind blanks. “i’ve probably never told you because i’ve never thought about it myself. i mean, being a jujutsu sorcerer and all, romance is kind of off the table.”

shoko keeps looking at you, pressing you without words. you grimace and sigh.

"i mean, i guess, maybe someone good looking? someone who’s not boring? and now that we're talking about it, someone who is fit and athletic too. they'd have to be smart, but not book-smart, like, street-smart." the more you think of it, the more words seem to spill from your mouth. "and someone who has a good sense of humour, someone who will make me laugh.”

“someone good looking, interesting, sporty, smart and funny? that’s too greedy.”

you giggle. “you’re right, there’s no way there’s anyone that perfect. i guess i’ll have to be single forever.”

“you'll always have me.” shoko says, grinning.

you push her shoulder but don’t deny it.

yaga walks into the classroom, cutting your conversation short. you spin around in your seat to face the front, eyes accidentally meeting gojo’s. he turns around too, and you reason that he was probably looking out the window behind you. you see getou snicker and whisper something in his ear, but gojo seemed to be having none of it, blatantly ignoring him.

seeing his face makes you think. didn’t gojo kind of match your type? someone attractive, interesting, athletic and maybe not academic smart, but he definitely carried an air of confidence when it came to fighting. and it wasn't a secret that he lightened the air wherever he went, intentionally or not.

with a start, you look back at shoko. “and someone calm. someone with manners.”

“well-mannered and calm. what insane preferences.” shoko chuckles. “are there any more?"

yaga slams his hand on the table a few times, reluctantly drawing your attention back to the front.

your previous conversation dies and twiddles away into the background, overtaken by droning lectures and predictable missions. by the end of the day, you can't even remember what you had told shoko early that morning.

when you enter the classroom the next day, you’re surprised to find gojo already there, seated at his table. his sunglasses hangs lower on his nose than usual and most curiously of all, a book is held in his hands. you’re not sure if he’s actually reading or not considering that pages were being turned far too quickly for someone reading “ordinary objects” by amie thomasson.

his eyes flicker to yours as you head in. “good morning.”

“morning. what’s with you?”

gojo clears his throat. “what ever do you mean?”

your frown transitions to a grimace. “why are you talking like that? did you break something of mine? was it my potted plant, gojo i told you to take good care of it!”

“i am taking care of it! it’s not dead yet!” he exclaims before pausing uncharacteristically. he sits back in his chair and turns back to his book. “i mean, it’s fine.”

“you sure?”

“i am.”

you narrow your eyes before looking away, dropping into your seat. “it better be. shoko got me that one.”

“speaking of shoko, is she not coming today?”

“i think she stayed overnight at the morgue.”

“is that so? perhaps i should write notes for her. i wouldn’t want her to miss out on class.”

you turn to him horrified. “so you did kill my plant!”

“i said it’s not dead!” gojo bursts. another pause. he clears his throat, adjusting his glasses. “i simply worry for her.”

you stare at him and watch as he fidgets under your gaze. “are you feeling sick? did you eat something wrong?”

“i’m not sick. what part of me looks sick?"

“well you’re usually not this…” you watch him as you wrack your brain, trying to find a word to describe this situation. “c…”

gojo leans forward. “yes?”

“crazy.”

he falls back in his chair, groaning, book forgotten and placed harshly down on the table.

you tilt your head. “where's getou, you guys didn’t come to class together? don’t tell me you fought.”

gojo peers up and frowns. “no, can i not show up to class early just because i feel like it?”

“it would be extremely out of character, yeah.” you rest your chin on your hand as you watch gojo mutter to himself, his jaw jutted out and his nose scrunched.

he was clearly unhappy, it didn’t take a scholar to know. it might take a genius to figure out why though.

you had time to kill, might as well take up the challenge. maybe he hadn’t had his morning dose of sugar yet, or maybe his favourite anime had delayed it’s upcoming episode. maybe he didn't save properly on the new game he was playing, or maybe he simply didn't sleep well last night. or maybe he had lied to you and he had fought with getou, leading to this strange attitude.

the more you thought about it, the more it made sense. the way he was acting now was like a mockery to getou's usual behaviour.

“are you trying to be like getou?” you try.

gojo whirs around to face you. “what?”

“well, you’re trying to be composed.” he keeps staring at you and you clear your throat. “like more well-mannered. more calm.”

gojo remains silent but you watch as his jaw drops. you think that he might say something but then his mouth closes, only to open again.

gojo speechless, what a sight. but as good of a sight as it was, you were beginning to feel concerned.

“are you sure you’re alright? what did you eat yesterday?”

he doesn’t register your question. “you think getou is well-mannered?”

“yeah?”

“and calm?”

you nod. “more than you, at least.”

“do you think he’s interesting too? sporty? smart? funny?” he pauses. “good-looking?”

the questions throw you off guard and you sit up. “what? where is this coming from?”

“oh my god, you do.”

“no? i mean, i think getou’s great and everything—”

“you think getou’s great?”

“don’t you?”

“you think getou’s hot.” he concludes. “and you think getou’s great.”

"what are you even saying?"

"i don't know. why don't you tell me?"

baffled, you flail for words. “are you jealous of him? that's strange, i didn’t think either of you would ever feel jealous of each other.”

gojo grits his teeth and looks away. with a pout, he says, “me neither.”

the door to the classroom is thrown open and getou steps through, rubbing the back of his neck. he yawns on his way to his chair and it wakes him up, looking between you and gojo as you both watch him enter.

“what did you guys do?” he asks with a sigh.

“nothing!”

“nothing.” gojo says and glares at him.

getou blinks.

“okay.” he says slowly, sliding out his chair and sitting. “what did i do then? why are you both looking at me like that?”

“gojo’s being weird.” you snitch. “are you guys fighting?”

“how should i know? i thought we were doing okay. gojo, if i did something, use your words and tell me.”

"i'll use my words to tell you to suck my dick instead."

"so i did do something. you're so predictable, gojo."

you snicker as gojo huffs and glances away, looking away out the window behind your head. his train of sight cuts right past you but you can’t help but feel slightly flustered as he looks on, almost like he was looking at you, so determined to ignore getou’s pestering.

subconsciously, you drown getou out too, your traitorous mind observing the blue in gojo’s eyes. you had always thought it was just one colour, but looking at it now, it seemed more like a kaleidoscope of blues, the many shades sparkling and dimming as he watched birds flutter outside the window, and you watched their shadows through his eyes.

something shifts, in the air or in the skies you don't know, and gojo meets your eye. startled, you hold the gaze and he holds it too, just long enough for your lungs to run out of air.

you look away hastily and inhale.

gojo glances to the front, oddly fidgety.

getou looks between the two of you. “what the fuck was that?”

“nothing.” gojo says.

getou clearly doesn't buy it but though he tries to get an answer out of you, you don't give him one either. cupping your cheeks, your thoughts mirror his question. what was that? it was embarrassing, that's what it was and your realisation is only heightened as a silence fills all four corners of the classroom.

gojo clears his throat. “for me, i like someone who i'm already comfortable with. someone i already know.”

at his words, you look over at him and find him already staring. he frowns as you don't give him any other reaction.

yaga saves you from addressing his statement, walking into the room as the bell for class rang. "oh? you're all early, even you gojo. where's shoko?"

“she’s staying at the morgue because of the recent mission.”

“i see.” yaga nods. “then let’s start.”

your mind fails to work as you turn over gojo’s words, thinking them through. what did they mean? what was he talking about? did this weird confession have something to do with why he was acting so strange?

slowly, you draw connections between your conversation with gojo and the talk you had with shoko yesterday morning. an epiphany shoots through you and you cover your mouth to hide a gasp.

did that mean…?

someone he knew? acting strange? getting mad when you said you liked getou?

you watch gojo’s side profile, hoping he’d turn around. if what you thought was right, he’d turn.

seconds tick past. yaga’s voice drawls on and yet gojo doesn't even spare you a glance.

no, maybe you were wrong after all.

just as you were about to face yaga again, gojo’s head shifts and his eye flicks over to yours. they widen when he finds you, and you’re sure you’re in a similar shocked state.

oh my god, you think, eyes darting between him and the other boy in the room.

gojo has a crush on getou.

filler imagine based off of that One scene from the manga: "megane tokidoki yankee kun"

[cottonlemonade]

Dating You For A Bet [Part 1]

word count: 1767 || avg. reading time: 8 mins.

pairing: university AU!Matsukawa x chubby!Reader

genre: angst

warnings: some swearing

It was becoming increasingly harder to ignore the barely hidden stares and whispers surrounding you. You looked up to check if maybe you were just imagining things but the hastily averted eyes and hush of voices solidified your suspicion that you were once again the talk of the town. It happened many times before that you, the chubby foreigner with the mediocre grades but big opinions during seminars, were subject to gossip and after a year of studying in Tokyo, you were somewhat used to it. The gossip died down a few months after your arrival only to spike exponentially when the handsome middle blocker of the varsity volleyball team came up to you one day during lunch and with a disarming smirk that belonged on the pages of scandalous romance novels simply sat down across from you, asking if you enjoyed the miso soup that was hardly touched and by now stone cold on your tray. Oblivious to any kind of possible flirting you just shrugged and went back to your phone when a long finger tapped gently on your knuckles to get your attention. Matsukawa tilted his head a little and asked if you’d like to study with him later in the library and you agreed and it all just developed from there. He did have to spell it out for you that he was interested since you just assumed that he was being nice like most guys you talked to but you quickly came into the dessert-like luxury of being acknowledged as his girlfriend, fingers entwined, him pulling your legs over his lap when you lounged on a bench on the university grounds, talking about anything and nothing for six glorious, sunny months. You were in fact waiting for him right now, keeping your backpack on the seat next to you just in case someone dared to plop down. Giggles and pointing now joined the stares and whispers and frowning a little you pulled out your phone to text your boyfriend how long he’d be.

“Sorry! Sorry. Hey, I said sorry, now shoo~“ Your tall glass of water of a man shuffled through the row of seats a minute later and a little out of breath from running over from another building got comfortable and produced his laptop from his messenger bag. “Thank you, beautiful.”, he panted when you brought the straw of your iced coffee to his lips.

“What’s up?”, he asked when you didn’t lean in as usual for a kiss. Following your gaze he looked around the lecture hall. Some people quickly turned the other way again while others just blatantly continued their gawking.

“What’s going on?”

“No idea but I feel like it has something to do with me.”, you said quietly. Slouching further down in your chair you added, “Maybe some stupid rumor again in the class forum. Like last time when they thought I only have one pair of pants because most of my jeans just have the same cut.”

“Well, better check it out so I can vehemently defend my girl against any and all evil doings that are being evil done.”, he said chivalrously and grabbed his phone from his jacket pocket. But after a bit of typing you saw all color drain from his face. His usually relaxed half hooded eyes widened in shock and he quickly locked the screen.

“Babe.”, you gave a nervous chuckle, “What is it?”

“Nothing.”

You raised a brow. “You do realize that I also have access to that site and can check myself.”

Slowly, very very slowly he handed you his phone and with a few swipes it unlocked.

Sure enough the community forum of your year was open and a set of screenshots from a group chat was pinned to the very top.

You recognized one of the profile pictures. It was Issei’s old one before he changed it to a photo of you and him kissing at a lake.

Your boyfriend meanwhile sat silently next to you, staring at his hands.

Three minutes passed in which the air around became thick with tension.

You swallowed the impossibly large lump that had formed in your throat while you read, then stared ahead at the many other students now obviously waiting for you to react.

But you were not about to give them the satisfaction. You tossed the phone back into your … into Matsukawa’s lap and having no patience to put your things away, just grabbed tablet, notepad, pen and phone awkwardly in one hand, your backpack in the other and got up.

“Please let me out.”, you said calmly.

“Y/n, I-“

“I said, let me out.”

Matsukawa stood up to let you pass, so did the other people in your row. You felt your eyes burn but you willed yourself not to cry or breathe until you left this room.

Stoically, you walked up the few steps towards the double doors when you heard shuffling behind you and a hand grabbed your wrist. You didn’t have to turn around to know it was him.

“Princess, please-“

You yanked yourself free and reached for the handle.

“Mr Matsukawa, Miss L/N.”, the voice of the professor who had finally arrived stopped you in your tracks, “May I remind you that in order to pass my class you need an 80% attendance rate? Especially you, Mr Matsukawa, if you leave now I’m going to have to fail you.”

Grim satisfaction filled your head when you pushed open the door to leave him behind.

He should stay like a good boy. He should have the decency to give you a head start to go to his dorm so you could collect every single thing you ever left there and you began to wonder if you’d need one or two trash bags for all the crap he kept in your room.

But much to your surprise the door behind you didn’t close as quickly as you thought. Familiar footsteps caught up to you.

“Y/n, it’s not what you think.”

Your heart began to sting and twist; the tears, no longer under your control, streamed down your plump cheeks when you spun around.

“Alright.”, you began, letting out a quivering breath to steady your voice, “Tell me. Explain to me why you obviously making a bet with your jerky friends about getting me into bed is not what I think. Oh, and make sure you use small words for the foreigner. Go on. Make me laugh.”

“Gorgeous-“

“Don’t call me that.”

He flinched. He looked small, kneading his hands like that, head ducked between his shoulders and staring at your shoes.

“Y/n…”, he said but then fell silent.

“That’s what I thought. Don’t talk to me. Don’t call me. Don’t come near me ever again.”

You turned on your heel and not caring about the highly entertained grin some passersby threw your way you hurried out of the building.

Issei looked after you for a long while, then he returned to the lecture hall.

You lay on your bed, arm over your eyes and heating pillow on your tummy. Ever since this morning you hadn’t been able to eat anything and were now paying the price for trying to keep down an old milk bread bun you had found squashed at the bottom of your backpack. Without all of Matsukawa’s stuff cluttering your side of the room it felt a lot emptier. All the plushies from the arcade he’d won for you, his spare Pyjamas (kept hidden under your bed) for when your roommate was out of town, a bouquet of flowers, impulsively picked from someone’s front yard that you had pressed and framed, a tattered old jersey from his high school team he left for you as a makeshift pillowcase so you could breathe him in if he couldn’t be with you - all of that was stuffed into a bulging black trash bag by the door. It genuinely surprised you that your phone had stayed silent all day. In the very back of your mind, a small unwelcome part of you had hoped that he’d try to talk to you despite your warnings. That he would try to explain himself and get you back but then again it had all just been a game to him, right?

The rustling of paper had you sit up. A folded note slipped under your door. You got up to investigate. The handwriting, almost illegible chicken scratches, was unmistakable. Fighting the urge to read it, you simply crumpled it up and threw it away, proud of yourself. But when you turned to go back to bed, another note appeared.

It looked identical to the first.

“What the…”, you muttered, and as you balled up this new message you called through the door, “Go away!”

But a third note, the same as the first two, swished towards your feet.

You had enough and pulled the door open.

Crouching before you, a stack of paper in his arms, was Matsukawa, arm outstretched with yet another note, ready to deploy apparently.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“I-“

“Didn’t I tell you that I don’t want to see you again?”

“Well…”

“Well what?”

“Technically you didn’t see me. U-until… now.” You glared at him and he quietly added, “Loophole.” in a weak attempt to lighten the mood.

“Are you seriously trying to be cute right now?”

“No! Not at all, I- uhm, did you read the message?”

“Take a wild guess.”

“Okay, give me five minutes to explain. Please!”

“What’s there to explain? Your dumb friend offered you a dumb bet and your dumb ass accepted it. With zero hesitation, might I add.”

“Yes, but-“

“Did you get the money?”

“What?”

“You heard me, did you get the money?”

“I… yes.”

“Did you feel guilty for getting the money?”

“Babe- I mean, y/n”, he quickly swerved after seeing you seething with rage at the nickname, “the money didn’t matter! I was hopelessly in love with you the moment you pushed Makki into the pool.”

He shuffled half a step closer to you and took a whole one back again when you frowned.

“That party was in July. We started dating in the spring. So for the first half of our relationship you were just pretending?”

“N-no! That’s not what I - no!”

“Take your shit and get out of my sight!”

“Listen to me, I won’t let you go! You’re the best thing that ever happened to me! I know I don’t deserve you but please don’t leave me! I love you, y/n!”

“Goodbye!”

And after chucking the trash bag into his face you slammed the door shut.

art: I wasn’t able to find out who the OG artist was. If you know, please lemme know and I’ll add

[part 2]

[lynnie-ee]

Day 11; Dream.

╰┈➤"Your assignment for Crewel's class was easy; brewing a potion that allowed you to dream about your future at night. But you didn't expect a housewarden to appear on it, and even less to encounter him the morning after, as you were well aware of what waited for the two of you."

╰►Gender neutral reader, scenarios, 1.8k words. Mentions of marriage in almost all of them, mention of children in Kalim's part.

╰► Characters: Riddle, Leona, Kalim, Vil.

╰►Note: The prompts are based on words I found interesting and then I put them on a roulette to decide when I would write about them, lol. English is not my first language, so please let me know if there are any grammatical mistakes <3. Not proof read, I haven't written in a long time, so I apologise if anything is out of character.

╰►Masterlist / Inktober Masterlist.

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“So, if we do the potion correctly we’ll be able to dream about our future tonight?”

“That’s right, pup.” Professor Crewel nodded as he pointed at the board, where the steps for the potion were clearly written in detail, with all the considerations that were expected to be taken for the use of the components for the potion.

“That’s so cool…” Deuce mumbled, his eyes observing the board with excitement.

“You have an hour; you can start now.” Crewel signalized as each of you started to work on your potion.

By the end of the class, and after everyone had finished, it was finally the moment to drink the potion. You sighed with exhaustion, after spending the last hour doing your assignment at the same time as you helped Grim with his own potion.

“I already know I’ll be the greatest mage of all but it doesn’t hurt to see it by myself!” Grim spoke with a confident demeanour, drinking the potion immediately. You just giggled and imitated his action, although a bit slower than him.

The next morning, as you walked towards your classroom, you encountered Ace and Deuce in the middle of the hallway, with disappointed expressions on their faces.

“Oh, hello Prefect.” Deuce mumbled as soon as he saw you, which made you curious of their attitude.

“What’s the matter, boys? The potion didn’t work?” You frowned slightly, wondering what kind of future they could have for them to be in such a bad mood.

“I didn’t dream anything.” He sighed, as Ace groaned next to him.

“Me neither.” The Heartslabyul first-year murmured irritated. “Man, this really sucks…”

“Were you able to have the dream, Prefect?”

You stared at both of your friends for a few seconds, a sensation of heat reaching your cheeks after you recalled the events of the last night. You coughed to try to cover up your embarrassment, deciding to keep your dream to yourself.

“…No, I didn’t. A pity, really. Very unfortunate. Let’s go to class already, okay?” You suggested, walking past them to continue your way towards the classroom, too focussed on running away to notice the other student who was walking in the opposite direction, promptly crashing into him before you could avoid it.

“Oh, Prefect, are you okay?” You heard a voice call you as he held you to prevent you from falling.

‘Please don’t be him, please don’t be him…’ You thought to yourself as you raised your head to see the person who was talking to you. ‘Great Sevens, it’s him.’

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﹙❥﹚Riddle Rosehearts ❜ ˖ ࣪⊹ ִֶָ

“A pristine and beautiful home. Multiple pictures hung around the walls, along with diplomas and newspaper clippings that were arranged by you. A warm kitchen, a freshly baked strawberry tart on the table, matching hedgehog mugs. The front door opens, Riddle enters your home as he takes off his coat, immediately walking towards you to greet you with a soft kiss, far gentler than you have ever seen him before.

‘Hello, my rose. I see you got out of work early. Ah, you baked strawberry tart? But you must be tired. I’ll make tea while you take a break. What are you saying? I should be making herbal tea according to the Queen’s rules because of the hour? Just like old times…Fine, I’ll indulge you. Just rest for now, alright? I love you too.’ “

“I asked if you’re alright. Perhaps you hit yourself in the head?” Riddle, the actual Riddle asked once again, as you stared at him while still remembering your dream from last night.

“No, I’m okay!” You quickly stand straight, enlarging the distance between him and you, as he observes you with a stoic frown, an expression quite different from the one you recalled from the future. “I was just distracted. You probably were on your way to class, please don’t worry.”

“It’s nothing.” He mumbled, watching your nervous expression as he wondered the reason behind your unusual behaviour. “You’ll be late if you stand there, don’t get too distracted.” He added before turning back, making you sigh out of relief as you expected to be left alone to die of embarrassment by yourself, until Riddle looked at you briefly. “Ah, now I remember. Trey asked me to invite you to Heartslabyul this afternoon. He baked strawberry tart and said you might fancy an invitation.”

You stared at him for a few seconds, the question slipping out of your mouth before you could think about it. “Oh, of course, that’s your favourite, right?”

“You are correct, Prefect. Though, I wonder how you knew about that.” You couldn’t help but chuckle at his puzzled expression.

“I just guessed it right, you could say.”

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﹙➹﹚Leona Kingscholar ❜ ˖ ࣪⊹ ִֶ

“A crowded room, different people greeting you left and right, the sound of lively chattering. A frown on your beloved’s expression, Kifaji’s attentive gaze upon the two of you, the beautiful moonlight outside the ballroom. A hand guiding you outside the room, gently taking you to the garden to comfortably lay on the ground with him laying his head on your lap.

‘I couldn’t bear it anymore, I bet you were also tired from so many people. Being the spouse of the Second Prince isn’t all that good now, hm? What are you saying, you’re alright with it if it’s for me? You get so emotional at late hours, herbivore. You look exhausted, come here, I’ll carry you back to our room. Don’t you think I’ll do it for free, though, you better be a nice pillow when we arrive.’ “

“Watch where you’re going.” A harsh voice took out of your thoughts, a deadpanned expression on your voice when you realized the contrast between your dream and the man standing before you with the biggest scowl, showing you his annoyance. “Aren’t you supposed to be in class?”

“I was on my way, actually.” You stood with your back straight, trying to appear taller to show him confidence. “What about you? Aren’t you supposed to have class with Trein at this hour?”

“He’s not gonna notice, either way.” He watched as you frowned at him. “And I don’t care if he does, honestly. I’m going to the Botanical Garden, you’re coming to.” He took you by the arm to drag you in the opposite direction you were walking, a perplexed look on your face as Ace and Deuce continued their path instead of helping you.

“And why do I have to?!”

“Hm? You almost made me fall just now, don’t think I’ll let you slide that so easily."

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﹙ꕤ﹚Kalim Al-Asim ❜ ˖ ࣪⊹ ִֶָ

“Soft pillows all around the living room, warm tea, a beautiful scenery outside the window. The pleasant air of the Scalding Sands, the smell of freshly cooked meals, the joyful expressions of the children around you, were they your own or were they Kalim’s siblings? Him entering the room with the most contagious smile, running to you as soon as he spotted you to hold you in his arms, kissing you excitedly, a subtle urgency in his touch.”

‘Ah, I missed you so much! I didn’t leave for long, but I really needed to see you again. My trip was perfect, I hadn’t visited Jamil in such a long time so we talked a lot, and he sent you his greetings too! You should come with me next time, or would rather visit your friends at the Queendom of Roses? Whatever you want, I’ll arrange it immediately, so please tell me, sunshine.’ ”

“Ohhh, I’m so sorry! I wasn’t looking, are you okay Prefect?” Kalim was quick to ask, promptly inspecting your appearance to make sure you were alright.

"Yes, please don't worry, I should've been more careful..."

"What is it? Are you feeling tired, Prefect?"

"...Yeah, I didn't sleep well last night." You decided to use an excuse, not wanting to dig too deeply into your dreams from last night.

"You're always so busy! Perhaps you want to stop by Scarabia after class? Jamil is making curry tonight, maybe that'll make you feel better." He smiled warmly at you, his expression so sincere that it was hard for you to decline his invitation.

"I wouldn't want to bother you or Jamil, to be honest-"

"You're never a bother! You can also invite your friends, if you want. I'll be waiting for you, okay?"

You couldn't help but imitate his smile, chuckling at his kind demeanour.

"Of course, I'll be there."

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﹙𑁍﹚Vil Schoenheit ❜ ˖ ࣪⊹ ִֶָ

“Designer clothes, flashing lights, cameras all around you. The most elegant red carpet you’ve ever seen, posters with Vil’s face on it, fans screaming his name but also yours. His arm around your waist, reporters asking about your honeymoon, Vil replying how wonderful it was and how fortunate he was to have married such a lovely person.

‘I’m sorry, my love, I hope it wasn’t too exhausting for you. I’m glad you had a great night; you don’t know how grateful I am to you for joining me for these events. You’re concerned about being in the spotlight? You have nothing to worry about, my fans adore you. You shine naturally, my dear.’ “

“You should be more careful, Potato.” Vil’s usual stern voice rang in your ears, as you felt yourself blushing, the memories about him talking to you so sweetly still fresh in your mind. “And more attentive, too, did you rush outside your dorm without looking at yourself in the mirror?”

“I was just…distracted, this morning.”

“Don’t make excuses.” He added with a strict demeanour, but you could see that he was simply caring for you, in his own way, as he fixed your tie and buttoned up your blazer. “There it is, much better.”

“Thank you, dear.” You mumbled unconsciously, punching yourself mentally as soon as you realized the endearment that you added naturally, allowing you to observe for a brief moment Vil’s startled expression, which soon turned into an amused smile.

“A nice appearance is all it takes to make you that bold? You surely are unpredictable sometimes, Prefect. Good luck on your classes then, dear.”

⤿

⤿

[yutarot]

IN PERFECT SYNC [j.jh smau]

betrayal [noun]  /bɪˈtreɪ.əl/

1 : the act of dissapointing a persons trust, hopes or expectations.

2 : revelation of something hidden or secret.

3 : failure to keep or honour a promise, principle or cherished memory, etc.

twelve — betrayal. wc: 1k

café neoro. 4:14pm

if you were to say you weren’t confused by the sudden cafe invitation, you’d be lying.

as you enter the front door, triggering the cafe’s bell to ring, you spot giselle sat in the far corner, biting her nails; a habit she does only when she’s dreading something.

that’s weird.

she spots you, dropping her hands to the table and nodding you over to come and sit with her.

“you’re here!” she squeals, “you’re here..”

the atmosphere is strange, you must admit and there’s something odd lining the air between you. so you begin to drone on about your class in efforts to ease off the weirdness.

“urg, im so sick of my professor just constantly leaving the hall. im literally paying to be here and he can’t even be bothered to stay!” you whine as you set your bag down beside you, sitting opposite giselle on the cafes patchwork coach.

it’s a cute little place, you and the girls come here often to catch up when you don’t see eachother for periods of time in exam season.

but for giselle to ask you here alone? when neither of you have exams for months?

there was something going on.

“honestly, i wish my professor would leave sometimes.” she replies. “she’s so boring!”

you laugh, spending the next 20 minutes complaining about your courses and gossiping about overheard conversations.

that’s until you decide to bring up giselle’s absence from the party the other night.

“where did you even go?!” you ask, too excited for your own good. but you know giselle.

and you know she’s forcing her smile.

“oh, just some room upstairs, no idea who’s. could have been chenles for all i know.” she laughed.

you take a sip of your coffee as you laugh in reply, winking at her jokingly. “so, who was the guy? was he good at yk… that stuff..”

she giggles as she nods. but her smile withers.

“look, yn.”

the sudden change of atmosphere brings you right back to the feeling of the beginning of your meet-up, the cold, stark vibe of something being wrong, of something eating away at whatever is between you.

“i told myself that i should be honest with you, so i will.” she continues.

“what is it, giselle? you’re scaring me.”

she’s silent for a moment.

the silence kills.

but you soon find out that it isn’t the silence that is killing you, its the thought that in these mere seconds, giselle is counting down the moments until she tells you who it is.

until she knowingly breaks your heart.

“it was jaehyun. the guy i slept with was jaehyun.”

your mind feels heavy, unattached even.

how could she do this? after everything you went through. she was the one who was there the entire time, she was the one who comforted you, telling you how he was in the wrong and how he deserved the worst kind of punishment for what he did.

and yet, in the end, she must have never truly believed it. because now she has betrayed your trust.

and she has betrayed you.

“what?” you can feel your vision going foggy, tears welling up in your eyes.

“i know, i know. i shouldn’t have, but can you really blame me?”

“yes!” you raise your voice, and your thankful that the cafe is near empty. “giselle…”

there’s a pause of silence as she lets you figure out what you want to say.

but you continue. “you know what he did to me. you hugged me as i cried when i found out. i had no friends because of him, none! all the girls in highschool hated me giselle, do you know how that feels?”

you’re crying at this point, but she listens, watches as you burst into tears.

“do you know how it feels to find out your bestfriend had been shit-talking you to all the girls just so he could get in their pants?! he had used me as a pickup line giselle, he had embarrassed me, telling girls he thought i was ugly, annoying, that he only tolerated me to make himself look better, all so that they wouldn’t get jealous! do you know how that feels?”

“…no.”

“so why would you do that?” you quieten down, almost to a whisper as you struggle to get your words out. “you know how much he hurt me, about how i can never be friends with half the girls in this college because to this day they still laugh and point. and yet, you don’t care about any of that.”

“it was one night, yn.”

“and yet you still felt that that one night was important than my feelings. how do u think im going to look when people find out my best friend has slept with him? i already look stupid enough!”

“yn, noone will know, i promise.” she replies.

“i know. that’s enough.” you stand up, leaving giselle sat there as you make your way to the door as you let the tears fall.

you feel 18 again, you feel the eyes, the giggles as you would when u walked down the hallway with jaehyun, unaware of what he had been doing behind your back.

jaehyun was probably so smug right now, knowing he had not only used you in highschool, but in college too, and with your own bestfriend on top of all that.

so now, you hate him even more that you ever did before.

you’ll never understand him, you’ll never know why he did what he did.

but there’s one thing you’ll know you will always do:

you will always hate him.

mlist — next

notes; so!.. i guess the truth is out now….. hope u guys don’t hate me too much! 😄😄 (btw there won’t be a chapter tmr bc im busy all day and don’t have the next chapter written, the next update will be sunday! sorry😞)

taglist — open; @https-yeonjun @chenlesfavorite @therealbobbyshloby @f6llsun @jkslvsnella @nanaxwi @cloudmrk @neocrashed @vernonburger @vividwritess @taeeflwrr @mmjhh1998 @cyjzzl @stareaa @minkyuncutie @mrkleelvr @dudekiss3r @nattan127 @slayhaechan @jaeveil @tynlvr @mslora @nosungluv @grassbutneo @dokyriu @girlz4jaem @axo-l0tl @yyangj3lly @solvrse @m1ng1swife @gentlepeach @xiuriii @soobinbunnie5 @tocupid @apolloxxivmin @ctrlstar @gyuguys @tokitosun @i-kai @flamingi @mrkleelvr @en-dream @queenrachelpink @ssweetreveries @swanyvess @flaminghotyourmom @hyuck-me @cryingforjae @hizhu @starfilledgaze

[romanoffsbish]

Hear Me Out

Natasha Romanoff x F!R

Natasha develops a bit of a crush on Shield’s interpreter, and it just so happens that her best friend, Clint, has an in with the woman for her….

A/N: I actually minored in Deaf Studies in college, and that little end bit with Natasha is based on an actual mistake I made in my class lmao.

Cheese / Movie | Sorry / Please | Bad / Bitch

W/C: 3,788

"Why am I here again?" Clint grumbled as he sidled himself up to Natasha as she stood just off stage. "Because, Steve is off on a mission and there's no way I was doing this alone."

Clint rolled his eyes as he saw his best friends smirk grow while watching the stage, she was taunting him for being so easy to manipulate.

"Next time you call, I'm sending you straight to voicemail." Natasha shrugged, "I'll call Laura."

Clint was about to rebut her threat, but then he was caught off guard by seeing you on stage.

"Why's Y/N here?"

Natasha followed his gaze to your face, and her heart momentarily stopped. Y/N... Now she knew your name, and yet it wasn't enough.

——

It had been months since she first noticed you, she was instantly drawn to your beauty, but due to the nature of your connected jobs she felt it would be unprofessional to approach. With every passing event though she felt as her resolve was steadily crumbling, especially since you flashed her a gorgeous smile in passing at the last one. She damn near swooped you then.

"You know her?"

Clint smiled, "She's my Shield appointed interpreter, she bridges the gap between me and others in my situation while also teaching the family and I ASL." His smile dropped into a frown the more he thought about the situation. "Does she do every Avengers press release?"

"Mostly," Natasha replied with understanding in her tone. "Leave it to Fury to double dip."

"Now I feel bad that she spends every Monday to Wednesday with me." Natasha interrupted, "Oh wow, poor girl." Clint shoulder bumped her then went on, "Then she's at the farm every other weekend." Natasha frowned, in part because she didn't know if you could be trusted, but also, because she was jealous.

"Don't worry, I vetted her myself, she's clean."

Natasha's shoulders lost their tenseness, but she still kept a scowl as she realized she had always had an in with you. But since Clint was primarily retired she'd been left out of the loop with just how often she'd been on missions.

"She's single," he teased, Natasha could never hide her feelings from him. "That's cool," but she would be damned if she wouldn't try.

He sighed, ready to give her a little pep talk, but then the crowd roared with applause and he saw you were carefully descending the stage.

"Y/N!" Natasha glared at him, but fortunately you didn't catch it as you happily trotted over. You smiled, but only waved in greeting.

"I wanted to introduce you to my friend, Nat."

"Natasha," the redhead cooly corrected.

You titled your head, and furrowed your brows. Natasha watched in amusement when Clint knowingly huffed as he watched you. With your pointer finger you tapped your chest, then rose it to flick at the sky while shaking your head.

You understood him just fine...

Clint rolled his eyes, then did his very best to sign his introduction once more. Your eyes lit up at his improvements, and Natasha watched the older mans eyes also beaming with pride. She was certain she needed to know you now, because the old man was as a certified grump, but you still managed to make him smile.

"I'm Y/N," you finally spoke, and the redhead nearly fell to her knees at your voice. You had extended your hand out in greeting, but she was too enamored by you as a whole. So, you awkwardly cleared your throat while going to pull it away but she latched on just in time.

"Natasha," she finally offered her name, even though you knew it from not only Clint's intro, but also because you worked for her boss.

"I know," you giggled, and allowed her to keep holding onto your hand well beyond the shake. "You're kind of who I was defending on stage."

The redhead blushed and Clint was speechless.

"Right," she chuckled, and felt her entire body warm from embarrassment. Then, you gently squeezed her hand and she realized she had yet to let it go. Which only made her feel hotter.

The redhead dropped it, and if she wasn't so mortified by her horrible game she'd have seen the way you momentarily frowned at the loss.

"It's lovely to finally meet you Natasha, Clinton here has told me so much about you." You ratted the old man out for his gossiping. Nat narrowed her eyes at the man, curious on his intentions to have ever mentioned her to you.

"Don't worry, it's nothing too bad," you teased her and she met your eyes to see the honesty. "I'd stick around and get to know you myself, but unfortunately I have to meet with Fury, and sign yet another NDA since agents can't seem to keep their mouths shut around me."

"I'm sure Fury can wait," Natasha blurted, and that shocked all three of you. Clint smirked, Natasha's gaze fell to the ground, and you couldn't stop smiling thinking about how she wanted you to stay. The hand holding, and blush were not enough to convince you that the attraction was mutual, but now, you grew sure.

"He very well could," you theorized playfully, and the redhead looked to you with a smile. "But we all know that it's a bad idea to keep the director waiting. Then he'd be faced with the realization that his busy schedule is a facade."

The best friend duo laughed, both innately aware of the truth in your words. Fury spent his days doing a whole lot of nothing while the rest of them actually did the bulk of it all.

"I'm sure I'll see you around," you spoke again, the hopeful tone not being missed by them. Natasha nodded, about to reply, then her voice stalled in her throat as your finger grazed on over her warm cheek to collect an eyelash.

"Make a wish," you'd commanded playfully, and the redhead didn't question your childish behavior. She simply closed her eyes, wished for you, then blew the curl off your fingertip.

"What did you wish for?" Clint asked, and you watched the woman grow tense. "She can't say Clint, or else it won't come true." Natasha's eyes flitted back to you, and her body calmed. "Exactly, if you knew what's best for you, you would listen to the pretty woman Barton."

You gasped at her words, and nearly lost all of your composure, making Natasha slyly smirk.

"I'll see you this weekend," you'd signed to Clint, then left with a nervous smile and wave.

"Don't even," Natasha threatened through gritted teeth, and Clint laughed wildly. "Oh, Laura is going to be so ecstatic at the news."

Natasha left the man in the dust, literally, she drove off in her Corvette just as he made it and left him without a way back to the compound. Nevertheless, he continued to smile over the interaction as he walked back. He got into his car and left towards home, not even saying goodbye to the dramatic, fuming redhead.

He knew that he would be seeing her soon...

—

"Y/N!" You caught the little girl with ease as she ran down the familiar steps of her home. Lila began to ramble incessantly about her week, knowing the rules of silence affected her just as soon as the door was closed behind you.

You always took your time with entering just for her sake. The rules were important, it was the only real way any of them would adapt to the changes that came with Clint's steadily declining hearing. Immersive practices were truly the best when learning a new language.

"Ooh, and Nate got in so much trouble yesterday, because he flushed my dolls head down the toilet. Dad was so mad! Oh, and..."

Just as you went to open the creaky door you heard the slamming of a metal one behind you. Before you could even turn to inspect who it could be you got your answer as the little girl shimmied out of your arms and shrieked.

"Auntie Nat!"

Your entire body warmed when you turned to see her catch the girl just the same as you did. It was a bit soon to picture it, but you couldn't stop your mind from wandering off to thoughts of her maybe one day catching your own kids.

Neither of you had even confessed your crush's and here you were seeing wedding bells; always doomed to be the hopeless romantic it seems.

Little did you know Natasha felt the same way when she watched you with Lila from her car. For a brief moment she was jealous that the little girl looked so happy with you, that was her precious Lila-Bear after all, but then her heart skipped in realization that you'd already won all of the people that mattered over.

Except for Yelena, but she'd likely save that encounter for years down the line if she could. The last thing she needed was for the blonde to run you off before she ever got a real chance.

Turns out you already knew Wanda too, her other bestie, you'd been there for her after a bombing led her to a hearing scare. When Nat mentioned you last night the witch squealed, and begged her not to fuck this opportunity up.

Natasha had scoffed, acting nonchalantly about the possibility of a future, but her heart racing was a sign to the witch that she wanted it bad.

Once the redhead was stood before you it was like your mind was catching up to the moment. Natasha's hand fell to your shoulder, and offered you a bright smile. "We meet again."

"It's almost as if you planned this," you teased and she glared defensively. "It was my weekend off, it is only a coincidence that you're here."

"Oh," you chuckled awkwardly, completely thrown by the sudden change in demeanor. "Well, I'll make sure I stay out of your way."

Natasha internally slapped herself, she had no reason to be upset, but she was embarrassed by your ability to understand why she was here.

"You're bad at this Auntie Nat," Lila noted, then dropped down to follow you back inside.

"Y/N, wait." Natasha tried, but she was met instead with Nate glaring up at her with his tiny finger to his lips. He was shushing her.

Next to greet her was Laura, who pulled her in for a hug and whispered, "Welcome to the dome of silence, you can undo your blunder later—start by not being so defensive."

Natasha rubbed her eyes, and cursed under her breath in her mother tongue, only to be shushed once again by a smirking Clint.

Before she could retaliate (pummel the man) you'd flipped the power off, then on a few times to signal to the Barton's that it was time for congregating in silence. Natasha followed, and took a seat in the far off corner to observe the ways in which you taught the lot of them ASL.

It was amusing from the very start, she could see just why the wary kids loved you so much. The language was something you held respect for in your soul, but you also knew kids needed fun to focus. So, you almost found a way to make it a game of charades when the topics allowed you to. Clint and Laura worked out of a workbook for the most part, it was more like you were a tutor that sidelined as a babysitter.

Natasha watched your face, and how you were emoting so clearly. Every sign came with an expression, something you wouldn't see much of in spoken languages as inflection worked wonders to let others know your moods. In this instance she realized it was you setting a tone.

Today you were teaching them a handful of new words, and using clear feelings to do so.

You'd started with— "I feel," and signed cold, which you dramatized as you wrapped a scarf around your neck before lifting your bent arms in front of you, and shivered. Even Natasha had figured the word out, but that wasn't the answer, because as you saw the kids sign "I understand," you went on to sign "Why?"

Lila giddily raised her hand, body squirming in her seat as she quickly finger-spelled S-N-O-W.

You smiled wide, and signed good before you took your hands and imitated snow fall, your fingers fluttered as you swayed your hands down, then you pointed to your pointer finger, and the kids knew you wanted another word.

Cooper finger-spelled R-A-I-N, and you pursed your lips. Your hand took the shape of a Y, then moved from side to side, then your brow raised as your pointer fingers gently touched before separating fast. A quick way to say they were similar signs, but different in the same breath. Then you signed it and urged them for more.

Natasha already knew the alphabet, and with her spy training she missed nothing so she actually followed along rather easily with you. The widow quite enjoyed learning along with the kids, the words were relatively meaningless to her, but every word was necessary to life.

What really caught her attention was the little boy who'd shushed her earlier using his voice.

Nate was too young to engage in your playful immersive ways like the other two as he hadn't known how to spell yet. So you'd offer him photos after his siblings would spell out their guesses, and he would always get to shout the correct answer to you. To which you'd nod, wink at the older kids, then remind him to keep his lips zipped after as he hung off your back.

Nate snickered when your eyes bulged as you pulled the invisible zipper across your face. His imagination allowed him to believe that your lips were to some extent being zipped shut.

When you moved on to let the kids get ready for bed, you'd focused in on the parental unit.

Natasha gratefully caught your attention just before you settled into a conversation. Your face was rather solemn, and she cringed at the lack of your usual smile—she'd already grown obsessed with the simple gesture of yours.

She offered you a simple smile, and signed I'm sorry, or at least she thought she did, but really she said please and you took it as an apology. You'd merely winked and threw a thumbs up, your version of a rushed "it's okay," before you shifted to face an impatient (eager) Laura.

You were never actually offended by her earlier outburst, you actually found it quite funny.

Laura signed the lesson with you as if she had already known the material before you ever arrived. Part of you thinks she had the book and read ahead to show off, but the other part of you knew just by a glance she was brilliant.

Once you felt satisfied you nodded at her, and she traipsed off upstairs to help the kids finish up their bedtime routines. Then came your time with the struggling Archer, whom of which was the reason for these sorts of visits.

This is when Natasha's attention fell to her phone, you were no longer being silly, and truth be told she felt she needed to do some studying of her own to win your heart over.

Clint held up to your challenges, he signed with a sort of choppy elegance that matched him. Sometimes his signs would be angled wrong, and you would freeze the moment to remind him that sometimes a mistake like that could get him a black eye. For instance, bitch and bad were not too similar, but if you blinked it could be misconstrued, and somehow Clint found a way to confuse them often enough for you to need warn him. Not that he, an actual Avenger, had too much to worry much about.

Any Deaf person would be able to understand his flukes, but you feared he'd still get a stern scolding from the wrong person in a crowd.

Something you knew he'd take with a scowl.

After a half hour with the grumpy man you'd told him he was free to go. He literally jumped up, and lifted you into a grateful embrace as he spoke in a huff, "Fucking finally, I am tired."

"Language!" Laura and Natasha parroted Steve's infamous, inside joke, it spread around Shield so much that even you understood it.

The freshly cleaned up kids all ran into your body in some capacity, Lila smashed her chin into your stomach and pouted up at you. "Don't go?" You ruffled the little girls damp hair and smiled sadly at her. "I'll be back Lila, you guys won't even have a chance to miss me."

"I miss you all the time," Nate corrected you. Cooper jumped in next, pouting just the same, "You're like the coolest adult we know Y/N!"

Natasha scoffed, "I thought that was me!"

Cooper shrugged, and the other kids giggled. "You're our favorite Auntie, deal with it."

"Yeah Natasha, deal with it," you teased her with that pretty grin of yours just before you turned around to give each kid a final hug.

Natasha watched with an adoring smile, her eyes swirling with joy, and a twinge of hope. Clint caught her, and sent a teasing wink her way, but even that didn't stop her from gazing.

"Alright, it was lovely to see you again Y/N, please don't be a stranger," she winked at Natasha while hugging you tightly. "Get home safely please darling, obey the traffic laws."

Clint laughed, "Way to be a mom honey." He gulped as she glared, then patted you on the shoulder quickly before racing off after her to apologize, and help her settle the kids down.

The room was abruptly quiet again, and even with the palpable tension, it wasn't that bad. You moved around the room collecting your materials while Nat quietly observed you, she was building up her courage to approach you before you could leave the house completely.

Natasha politely tapped you on the arm, and you turned your head to peer over your shoulder to see her nervous smile. She swirled her hand about, you got the message and turned to face her fully, you nodded to confirm your full attention was hers so she lifted her hands to attempt to ask you out on a date.

Natasha shakily pointed at you, then back to herself to essentially say "You and me". She had no idea how to really do this, so she kept her Google search for signs at a minimum. The next thing she did was point her fingers out in the distance, something you understood easily.

The tricky part came when she put her hands together, the redhead tried her hardest to ask you to go to the movies with her, but she missed the mark by a simple position of hands. 

"Sure, brie or cheddar?" Natasha blinked in confusion, her hands fell in defeat, and she looked completely disheartened. "What?"

"You just asked me to go to cheese with you."

"Oh my god," she groaned, her reddening face covered by her hands in an instant, but you didn't let her steep in her shame. Much like the first meeting you had her hands in yours, and you squeezed them in hopes of comforting her. Judging by the way her eyes glimmered you knew she was grateful for the gesture.

“Of course I’ll go to the movies with you.”

“You understood but still did that?”

You chuckled, “It was too easy not to.” The redhead dropped your hand then softly nudged your shoulder, “You are really such a tease.”

“Just wait for the date,” you winked, and the woman felt her body warm at the implications.

"Let me know when, and I'll meet you there?" Natasha frowned as she shook her head with absolute urgency. "No, I want to pick you up if that's alright, we can get dinner together first."

"Then pick me up next Friday at seven Nat," you leaned in and placed a sweet kiss to her raised cheek and tried to hide your grin at the blooming warmth felt just beneath your lips. Then you got into your car, and she hung into the window instantly to keep you a little longer.

"I'll need your number krasivaya," her tone was even raspier when she spoke in her mother tongue and she could see by the widening of your eyes that she had an upper-hand here. "It'll be hard to get in touch without it detka."

With a steady as can be hand you slid your phone into hers, allowing her to send herself a text message. As you took your phone back you saw she'd sent herself a selfie, you narrowed your eyes, and she shrugged. "I need a contact photo, and didn't really want to wait."

"So you invaded my privacy instead?" You teased the woman, no bite at all behind your words, so she once again shrugged. "You're very beautiful Y/N, you can't blame me right? It's honestly a shame I hadn't met you earlier."

"You know, you had ample opportunity," you giggled, and softly pushed her out of the car. "But you needed your best friends help."

"Hey...."

"Goodnight Natasha, I expect a gorgeous selfie in return, you know, for your contact." You winked knowingly before revving your engine and taking your leave only seconds later.

"That woman is going to actually kill me." The redhead held her hand over her racing heart as you drove away, it wasn't until your car was the size of an ant that it had begun to settle down.

"Jeez Nat, you're whipped!" Natasha turned to Clint with a tilted head, a move of Wanda's, while wearing her signature sideways smirk. Her narrowed eyes alone spoke of danger, but then her fingers formed the shape of L's, and she linked them and pulled them like a trigger.

Her research expanded beyond your wooing to include the torment of her dearest old friend.

Clint knew better than to ignore her threats, and took off in an instant... Natasha's laughter echoed in the dark fields, and mocked the man.

"I can't wait to have someone to complain about those two with," Laura chuckled to herself as she settled onto the porch swing with a glass of wine at the ready to help her unwind.

"Godspeed to Y/N though, that poor girl hasn’t a single clue what she is in for."

——

[riordanness]

fictional — [p.jackson]

pairing: percy jackson x reader

wordcount: 2.1K

warnings: none

‘i put myself in another world, where i can be any other girl, cause i don’t really wanna face it. cause if it isn’t real you can pretend all you want…’

I sigh as the lyrics of ‘Fictional’ by Khloe Rose filter through my headphones. My head leans against the cool glass window of the bus, bumping my forehead every time the driver goes over a pothole.

Hey, call me crazy, but this is probably the most relatable song in existence. At least to me. Falling in love with boys from books and movies was basically my job at this point.

I had one, though, that meant more than all my other ‘fictional boyfriends’.

Percy Jackson.

I’d grown up with this character, laughed with him, cried with him, held fast and braved the storm with him. I’d adopted his personality, tried to be like his girlfriend, acted as if we were best friends, talked to him, dreamt about him, read and written fanfiction about him, anything you can think of. I am obsessed, and no, I’m not ashamed of that fact.

I’m five years running with this crush now, and it’s not going anytime soon. I let out another sigh as I realise, yet again, that this is impossible. He’s fictional, as much as it hurts to admit. He isn’t real, and I can’t live my whole life pretending to date and marry a fictional character. Life just doesn’t work like that. Sadly.

The bus pulls up at school, and I climb off, slipping my headphones into my pocket. I’ll probably get them back out during a boring lecture in one of my classes, but for now I’ll just keep the daydreaming at a minimum.

“Hey, girl.” Andie sidles up to me, nudging me with her shoulder. “What’s kicking?”

“Nothing,” I deadpan. “Unless you’re a goat, like Grover Underwood.”

Andie laughs, my sarcastic comment going right over her head. I love her to death, seriously, but the girl hasn’t got an ounce of sarcasm in her. She’s the most literal and honest person ever, but she’s also super sweet and sincere. So, sarcasm isn’t even a word she knows.

“I’m not a goat, silly,” she giggles. “But guess what?!”

“Yeah?” I am actually kind of interested. Andie usually has all the gossip (somehow), so her news tends to be pretty good.

“There’s a new guy in our class today,” she squeals. “Apparently he just moved here from New York.”

“New York is where Percy Jackson lives,” I say automatically. “I wanna visit there someday so bad.”

Andie rolls her pretty eyes. She likes Percy Jackson. I made her read the books, and she did, but just so that she knows what I’m talking about most of the time. “You and your fictional boys, I swear. This is a real boy, y/n! You need to get your head out of a book for once if you ever wanna meet somebody.”

I shrug. “Real boys suck though.”

And even Andie can’t argue with that.

I’m doodling in my notebook, half listening to Mr Mintar explain something about geometry. I’m not terrible at maths, so I figure I’ll just catch up if I need to. My brain doesn’t want to pay attention today.

I perk up, though, when I hear something new.

“Students,” Mrs May, our principal, announces. “We have a new student joining us today. Please be kind to Mr Jackson and show him around. Remember, you were once a new student yourself.”

Jackson? Like Percy Jackson? How cool is that, I thought to myself. I yank my headphones out of my ears and glance up.

A boy is talking quietly with Mr Mintar; who is probably explaining what we’re learning and where he’ll sit. We have assigned seats in basically every class, because a few boys in our grade are idiots, so I sit alone in every class. Apparently, other students are very likely to copy my work if they’re sitting with me, so the teachers decided to make me sit alone all the time. It’s kind of okay, though. Means I can do whatever I want with no one to tell on me for listening to music.

I watch as Mr Mintar talks with his hands, waving them a lot. The boy has his back to me. He has messy black hair, and he’s wearing jeans, converse and a blue hoodie.

Mr Mintar gestures at me, and I sit up straight. The boy glances quickly, nods at Mr Mintar, and I realise what’s happening. He’s being assigned to sit with me, which probably means I'll also be assigned his personal ‘welcome-to-our-school’ guide. Which means I’ll be forced to be this guy’s friend for the next few weeks. Yay.

The boy turns to face me, and I swear my heart literally skipped a beat. Now, this wasn’t like those dumb fanfics where a girl’s celebrity crush just so happens to turn up at her school for some stupid reason, and they fall in love blah blah blah.

This was an honest-to-goodness ‘what the hell is happening’ moment. The boy now walking towards me looks exactly how I’ve always pictured Percy Jackson in my mind. The same crazily messy black hair, loose and slightly curled at the edges, twisting around his ears and falling in his eyes a little bit. He has the same smattering of freckles on his nose, the same tan skin, troublemaker grin, the same glint of determination in his eyes.

And gosh, I’d know those sea-green eyes anywhere.

The boy slides into the seat beside me. “Hi,” he says softly. “You’re y/n?”

I can’t do anything but nod, and I try to not stare at him too hard.

“You’re supposed to be my guide, or something, I think.” The boy sounds apologetic, like he knows how annoying being forced to be a school guide is. “And I’m supposed to sit with you in all my classes.”

I nod again, a little dazed. Even his voice is Percy Jackson-coded. A slight rasp, a little accented, ugh.

I find my voice. “That’s cool. I’d be happy to show you around and get you into the groove of things here at East High.”

The boy smiles, and he has little crinkles at the side of his pretty eyes, as if he smiles a whole lot.

“Awesome. I’m Percy by the way.”

I blink at him, absolutely sure he’s pulling my leg somehow. “What do you mean?” I ask.

Percy frowns. “Like… my name? The thing that people call me? It’s Percy. Percy Jackson.”

I just stare at him.

“Did I do something wrong?” he asks.

“Your name is Percy Jackson?”

“Yeah?”

“Like the book character,” I add, surprising myself with the calm in my voice. Inside my head, though, I was screaming.

Percy’s brow furrows. “A book character? I dunno. Never heard of a book character called Percy, but there probably is. I don’t read that much. Dyslexia.”

I nod slowly. “Of course.”

Percy frowns again, then chuckles a little. “You’re weird. I like you.”

My tongue feels like someone’s deep fried it in the microwave. I try to swallow, and it’s nearly impossible. “So you’re not messing with me right now? You’re really called Percy Jackson, and you have dyslexia and probably ADHD, and sea-green eyes, and your hair isn’t dyed, and…”

Percy laughs again. “Yes, yes, yes, yes, and yes. What’s this about?”

I shake my head. “You wouldn’t understand if I told you.”

Percy raises his eyebrow. “Try me.”

It’s been a week since Percy’s arrival, and I’m still about 89% sure I’m dreaming. Not that I usually dream like this, but still.

I’ve spent basically all my school hours with Percy, as well as half my bus rides home, as his mum lives nearby to us.

The longer I know him, the more I’m sure that he’s real, that he’s actually here, and that he’s really, truly, Perseus Jackson, the not-so-fictional boy I’ve been in love with forever.

The weirdest thing, though, is the night after he arrived, I got home and all my Percy Jackson books and merch were gone. Mysteriously vanished. Even Andie doesn’t know what I’m talking about when I bring up PJO.

It’s like that movie, Yesterday, where everyone forgets about the Beatles. It’s like that, but with Percy Jackson. Oh, and obviously I have a real Percy to replace it; whereas Jack in that movie didn’t really have that.

Anyway, it’s crazy, it’s probably a hallucination, and it’s absolutely incredible. I’m spending every single day with my absolute favourite person in the universe, and he’s real.

The boy I’ve cried over, laughed over, loved for years… He’s here. He’s real. And he’s my friend.

“Marshmallows are not designed to be eaten alone,” I argue, pouting a french fry at Percy. “They aren’t even that nice anyway, but especially not when you eat them dry. All the powder, like, clogs up your throat and it’s disgusting. If you eat them on their own, you’re crazy.”

Percy laughs. “I hate them in my hot chocolates. They get all gooey and mushy, and… ugh.” He makes a face.

I roll my eyes. “You’re insane.”

Percy shrugs. “At least I don’t hate rice.”

“Hey!” I protest. “I have sensory issues! It’s not my fault the feeling of rice in my mouth makes me feel sick.”

“Hey, I know,” Percy says. “I was just kidding. I’m sorry.”

I relax. “It’s okay.”

I stare at him a moment, realising once again that this is really happening to me. That his pretty sea-green eyes are actually looking at me.

“What are you thinking about, love?”

“Huh?” I snap out of my trance, sitting up straighter. “What did you say?”

Percy smirks. “Whatcha thinkin’ about?”

To be honest, I barely remember. “Uh—nothing. Trying to think of what to do this afternoon after school.”

“You don’t have plans?” he asks.

I shake my head, and sip my chocolate milk. It tastes terrible.

“You’re going on a date with me, dummy,” Percy says, so casually I almost miss it. He leans his head back and throws a grape in the air, catching it in his mouth. It’s surprisingly attractive.

“Wait,” I say. “What?”

“You.” Percy points his finger at me, then himself. “Me.” He makes a swirling motion with his finger. “That new waterpark by the beach.”

I raise an eyebrow. “You’re asking me to go on a date with you?”

“You aren’t saying no.”

“No,” I reply, my voice soft, “I’m not.”

“Wow,” I say. “That’s an epic waterpark.”

Percy grins down at me, his eyes looking extra pretty in the afternoon sunlight. “You wanna race to the gate?”

I pretend to think about it for a second, then begin sprinting as fast as I can. I hear Percy gasp in laughter, then start after me. He catches me easily, his legs much longer than mine, but as he does, he scoops me up into a hug.

“Hey!” I shriek. “Put me down!”

I can tell he isn’t taking me seriously though, because we’re both laughing too hard. Percy eventually drops me gently on the ground. I can’t help but suddenly miss the feeling of his bare chest against me. I blink, and instantly shake those thoughts away.

“Buy me an ice cream and I’ll let you win all our races from now on,” I tease.

Percy scoffs. “Darlin’, you couldn’t win if you had a jetpack on.”

I try to ignore the flutter in my chest and roll my eyes. “Could so, and I don’t need any old jetpack.” I flex my nonexistent muscles. “You see these? I’m perfectly fine on my own, thank you.”

“Oh, oh yeah of course. Sorry, your majesty.” Percy has a stupid grin on his face, and I have an urge to kiss him right then and there.

And so I do. I grab hold of his shoulders, pull myself up onto tiptoe, and press my mouth to his. “I love you, Seaweed Brain,” I whisper into his lips.

Percy wraps his arms around my waist, causing the flutter to return, more greatly this time. He deepens the kiss, his head tilting downwards to accommodate my shorter height. His lips taste of the jellybeans we were eating earlier together. He had insisted on eating only the blue ones, of course.

The world around me blurs, and fades, and I’m left with only him, only Percy Jackson. His fingers on my waist, his mouth on mine, my heart in his hands. I am completely and totally his, as I’ve been forever, but now? He’s completely and totally mine too. My not-so-fictional boy.

[lycheeflavr]

hii ! ive been obsessing over sean diaz for years and you might have a lot of requests from me soooo, I was wondering if you could do sean diaz (pre-accident) hard on crushing on reader who's like the popular kid who usually doesnt really notice him until he gets their number and turns out reader is actually funny and pretty nice despite popular beliefs :))

ah i have been dying to write this request ever since i got it, this idea is just really cute and i could totally see this being canon !!! I hope you like it

Popular Misconceptions

Sean Diaz glanced across the cafeteria, his eyes locking onto the table where you sat, surrounded by a group of friends. You, the popular girl, laughed and chatted animatedly, effortlessly commanding the attention of everyone around you. Sean couldn't help but feel a pang of envy mixed with curiosity. He had always admired you from afar, never quite daring to believe he could be part of your world.

"Hey, Sean, you zoning out again?" Lyla's voice broke through his thoughts, and he turned back to his best friend.

"Yeah, sorry," he mumbled, taking a bite of his sandwich. "Just thinking."

Lyla followed his gaze and raised an eyebrow. "Thinking about her, huh?"

Sean blushed, looking down at his tray. "I mean, she's... interesting."

"Interesting, huh?" Lyla smirked. "Well, why don't you go talk to her? She's not as unapproachable as you think."

Sean shook his head. "Yeah, right. Like she'd even notice me."

"Hey, you'd be surprised. She's in your art class, right? You've got a reason to talk to her."

Sean sighed. "Maybe."

Later that day, Sean found himself in the art room, his sanctuary. He was sketching absentmindedly, lost in the details of his drawing, when he heard footsteps approaching. Looking up, he was surprised to see you standing there, a friendly smile on your face.

"Hey, Sean, right?" you asked, your voice breaking the quiet hum of the room.

Sean's heart skipped a beat. "Uh, yeah. Hi."

You held out your phone. "I was wondering if you could help me with this art project. I heard you're really good."

"Sure," Sean replied, trying to keep his voice steady. "What do you need?"

You sat down next to him, placing your sketchbook on the table. "I need some advice on shading. I can never get it to look right."

Sean glanced at your work and immediately saw the potential. "You're actually really good. Just need a few tweaks here and there."

You smiled, a genuine warmth in your eyes. "Thanks, that means a lot coming from you."

As you both worked on your projects, Sean found himself relaxing. You were genuinely nice, and as you started talking more, he discovered you had a great sense of humor. You cracked jokes and shared stories, making him laugh more than he had in a long time.

"Did you hear about Mr. Johnson's car getting covered in post-it notes?" you asked, giggling.

Sean chuckled. "Yeah, I saw it. Who even has the patience for that?"

You shrugged, grinning. "Probably someone with a lot of time and a lot of post-it notes."

Sean found himself enjoying your company more than he expected. Over the next few weeks, you and Sean grew closer. You'd text each other about everything and nothing, your conversations filled with banter and mutual interests. Sean realized how wrong he'd been about you. Despite your popularity, you were down-to-earth and kind, breaking every stereotype he'd had.

One afternoon, you both sat under a tree in the school courtyard, enjoying the rare sunny day. You were telling a particularly funny story about a recent party, and Sean couldn't stop laughing.

"See? You're not just some quiet artist," you teased, nudging him playfully. "You're actually fun to be around."

Sean's cheeks flushed. "Thanks. You're pretty cool too. I never thought I'd get to know the real you."

You leaned back against the tree, looking thoughtful. "You know, people always assume things about me because I'm 'popular.' But I get tired of all the pretending sometimes. With you, I can just be myself."

Sean's heart swelled at your words. "I'm glad. I like getting to know the real you."

You smiled, a genuine warmth in your eyes. "Well, I'm glad you did. And for the record, I've always noticed you. It just took a while for our paths to cross."

Sean looked at you, surprised. "Really? I thought you were too busy with your friends and... well, everything."

You laughed softly. "Appearances can be deceiving. I've seen your art in the hallways. You're really talented. And you've always seemed like a nice guy."

Sean's heart swelled with happiness. "Thanks. That means a lot."

"Hey, anytime," you said, nudging him gently. "So, you want to hang out more? Outside of art projects, I mean."

Sean's eyes lit up. "I'd like that. A lot."

As the sun set, casting a warm glow over the courtyard, Sean realized that maybe, just maybe, this crush wasn't so impossible after all.

[mythunderstorm]

Let you go | MV1

Max Verstappen x fem!reader

summary: despite breaking up with you years ago, it seems like Max‘ still can’t forget about the time you shared.

warnings: short mention of J*s Verstappen, not really an happy ending but still sweet? idk

Normally I don’t write in first person but idk, just wanted to try something so enjoy some (short) heartbreak from Max‘ pov while I mentally prepare myself for the singapore gp lol

masterlist

It had been years since we broke up. Maybe five or even six, I think. Highschool sweethearts. Unbelievably in love but sadly not meant to last. I haven’t seen you since graduation, you going to university, I fulfilled my dream.

That‘s why this is the last place I ever expected to see you again - at one of my races. I remember that smile, that silky hair, those bright eyes, still the same from those years ago.

Just.. you.

You look a little lost, like you’re not exactly sure where to go or what to do. I was the one ending things. My career got more serious, I told you my attention should be a 100% on racing now. I told you what my father told me. I‘m sure you know my dad had something to do with the break up but you never dared to actually ask. I wouldn’t have told you the truth, anyway.

My eyes are entirely focused on you and then your eyes met mine. You realize you‘ve been caught. I notice you're with a friend, maybe even a new relationship. Regardless, seeing you brought back many bitter memories and feelings. I look forward, determined to ignore you, ignoring the part of my soul still in love with you.

I wonder if you sometimes wonder what would have happened if I never ended things with you. Because I certainly do. Would we still be together now? Or would it have ended one way or another?

I wonder if you still miss me, or if there's still any room for love in your heart. Because despite all the time that has passed, I love you. More than you know.

I can see you look up at the podium, proud but sad at the same time. I actually archived my dreams. The ones I told you about all the time while we were teenagers. The whole reason why I broke up with you in the first place. I did it. But sadly, not with you by my side.

It was heartbreaking. I still loved you deeply and after today, I wonder what might have been, if I made a mistake all those years ago.

Bullshit. I know I made a mistake that night. Ever since, your eyes kept me up at night.

I had to try and forget you, but that was much easier said than done. I missed the warmth of your eyes, your warm comforting touch. I missed your sweet voice and laugh. I missed everything about you.

Would you ever talk to me again, if you had the chance? I would want to talk to you. I‘m sure you miss me, even if it’s just a little bit. I was always good at reading your expressions.

But I am not the same guy you used to date in highschool. I’m not sure if I’m still the kind, caring Max you met and fell in love with. Because I don’t think I am that person anymore.

But I wonder the same about you. If you’re still the same caring, kind and friendly person you used to be. But I’m sure you are. You are perfect.

Even in the depths of our break up, no one else could replace you, and I think I'd known that back when we were together. It was impossible to not love you. Your presence alone made me feel like I had wings.

I look back at the late nights you sneaked me into your bedroom. Trying to keep your giggles at bay, getting lost in my eyes.

I miss those late nights we spent together and all the times we snuck around for that quick kiss or touch.

I miss holding your hand secretly underneath the table in the geography class we had together.

I miss holding you closely and feeling the heat of your body.

But most of all, I miss the warm touch of those lips. I wonder if they still taste and feel the same.

Oh what I’d give to kiss you again. Only once. If only you knew the feelings I felt for you. How the mere thought of your fingers on my skin or your voice whispering in my ear made my world stop.

I miss those long and tight hugs, I miss holding you in my arms as if I never wanted to let you go as I kissed your neck.

Oh god, I wish I was down there right now, next to you.

You smile at me and I ask myself if you’re bathing in memories and sorrow just like me. You throw one last glance at me, full of love but full of despair. Like you’re face is trying to say that you’ll always love me endlessly but it just wasn’t meant to be.

I look up and our eyes meet once again, though I know it is for one final goodbye. My heart beats faster as I look down at you from the podium and see this smile on your face. That smile I fell in love with so many years ago. I can't believe you've always lived in my heart, this entire time.

And now I let you go.

Or at least, I try.

[lightlycareless]

I was on Twitter/X and saw someone mention why Naoya is popular among Japanese fans and a big reason apparently is that he speaks in a cutesy dialect that’s only used by girls. And that it’s the kind of way of speaking where girls can insult you and it’s hard to be offended. And now I can only imagine Y/N reacting to this grown man insulting her in this cute dialect 🤭

Heya anon!!!

Yessssss! I quite recently saw a Tiktok talking about that and thought it was really unexpected, but cute at the same time? Ironic for sure too… guess it explains how he got so popular since even the author has called him a total jerk 😂

Unfortunately, I don’t know much about Kansai dialect, nor think there’s an equivalent to it in English, so I’m guiding myself with how it was translated in the manga, and perhaps my delusions too 😏 in order to write the following.

warnings: none.

The first time you notice his peculiar way of speaking would be when you met him many, many years ago, in jujutsu high. Everything about him was highly enthralling, from his appearance to his background, but when he opened his mouth…

Your curiosity ramped up to even higher levels, longing to know everything about him, as well as see the extent of his “cutesy” talk.

And boy, does it not disappoint.

It would happen unexpectedly one day. Let’s say that after a bunch boring classes you eventually grew very hungry and tired. So, after deciding you were long overdue for a break (and because you hadn’t prepared anything beforehand) you head over to the cafeteria to get something to eat and rest.

… a big mistake, because soon after you finish eating, you begin to feel sick, stomach twisting and churning, to the point you don’t think yourself capable of continuing with the rest of your classes.

Naoya is amongst the few that (vividly) notices your extended absence, and while he will never admit it out loud, he was worried that something bad happened to you, thus, he roamed across the school grounds in hopes of finding you.

When he does, you’re sitting by one of the benches, tightly holding onto your stomach as you debate whether to die there or die on the way to the infirmary.

“What’s wrong with you?” Naoya bluntly asks.

“I…. I think I ate something spoiled.” You whimper, barely able to look him in the eye.

“Does your tummy hurt or something?”

“Yes, it’s awful, it’s like I’m being—my what?” you blink—did you hear that right?

“Your tummy.” He repeats, oblivious to your reaction, far more preoccupied with your health. “Does it hurt?”

“My… tummy…?” A smile begins to part your lips, and suddenly, your pain is all but forgotten. “Did you say tummy??”

“I… I did….?” Naoya says, flustered and unsure whether this is something good or not to admit.

He soon finds the answer.

“How adorable!!” you gush, and by now, Naoya is red as a tomato—because he clearly doesn’t want to be seen as adorable by his crush!

“I said stomach!! I meant to say stomach!!” He rushes to defend himself, but it’s too late now, he’s already admitted to the crime.

“Noooo, you said tummy!!” you continue to jest. “My thummy wurts vewy, vewy, bad Naoya-kun…”

“Ugh, you can die out here for all I care…”

“No, wait Naoya!” you gasp, quickly standing up and reaching for me. “Can you at least accompany me to the infirmary? I’ll forget about this, I swear!”

Of course, you don’t let this go so easily, in fact, when the two start dating you continue teasing him about it—but you just couldn’t help it!! It just comes to him so naturally, you had to bring it up anytime you could, you know?

“Why are you upset? Did daddy get mad at you again?” you ask.

“Yes! That old man can’t keep himself out of my—wait, no—don’t call him daddy!” Naoya stammers, you giggle. He’s not ignorant to the times he’s condescendingly referred to Naobito with a that “nickname”, yet it didn’t mean he’d like to hear you calling him that as well!

“Why? Do you prefer I’d call you daddy?”

His breath hitches, something igniting inside him.

“…Not here.”

“Ok” you smile. “I won’t call you daddy, then, daddy. Wouldn’t want you to get angry at me.”

“… keep instigating me, princess, and I won’t reward you later tonight.”

I think the more you delve into this aspect of his, the more you find it adorable, to the point where you find his words a bit less serious; however, you’d eventually grow accustomed to it, and maybe even adopted some mannerisms of your own 🤭

I know you were referring to Naoya insulting Y/N but honestly I have no idea how it would be... I'm as dry as dry can get when it comes to it :'( but I still hope you were able to enjoy this small scenario! Gotta say, watching him say daddy in the manga was unexpected, but got me thinking what other things he'd say in that way, you know?

ironically, I think he might be the best when talking to children because of that—when he's not being his tsundere/rude self.

Anyways, thank you so much for sending in this ask!! I can't wait to hear how his voice sounds when it's finally animated, I hope they're able to keep his dialect and see what the fuss is all about 🤭😂

Take care, and hope to see you soon!! ❤️❤️

[aeon-borealis]

Captivated (2010 Version Remaster) Ch. 2

Chapter 2: Stubborn Crush

I was excited by a new start. The prospect of re-inventing myself, the potential of carefully sculpting a new image, and steering the narration of who I am to an entirely new audience. My plans have been quashed.

I’m so frustrated. Somehow, I developed a crush on Heather. The king of breaking hearts, the guy who can charm or seduce just about anyone he wants, the master of romance feels tingles run down his spine when he passes Heather in the hallway. Of course I’ve had crushes before but none of them ever made my heart rattle with rock show drummer solo energy and question my sanity.

“Hey Alejandro….” A cute redhead coos with a slight sing-song. “Want a sip of my soda?”

“Sure, senorita,” I said.

She giggles as she shakes a striped paper cup at me and I press my lips to the straw. I immediately regret it as soon as a bitter, far too sugary taste hits my tongue. It’s the taste of a sick day and Mama pressing a spoonful of medicine against my lips. Even if I’ve been in the U.S. for almost two years now, I’ll never get used to how sugar and salt drenched so many food and drink items are. And of course this girl enjoys root beer, the beverage at the very top of my personal “keep it miles away from me” list.

That sweet, hopeful smile smeared by glittery pink chapstick challenges my will power. I fight back nausea long enough to shoot her what I hope is close enough to an “Mmm” smile. The kind that actors paste on their faces in over-the-top commercials with upbeat, sappy music. Apparently, it’s effective enough for another giggle from her as well as a shared giddy glance with the friend perched near her elbow.

The redhead’s success quickly reverberates from her friend with frosted tip hair to every other girl at the table. Over the first week I’ve been here, this redhead with a freckle-dusted face and stubby pigtails sought me out and parked wherever I sat down.

She was quickly joined by two or three of her friends, a girl that I’ve been lightly flirting with in my drama class, and two others. Where the redhead’s friends are thrilled, the curly haired girl with heavy lashes from drama class rolled her eyes as she flashed a look between her phone and her long, pearly nails. Normally I’d be thrilled to be surrounded by such gorgeous girls on a daily basis, especially with the budding possibility of a cat fight, but I’m drawn more towards and preoccupied with Heather’s table.

It’s at the very center of the cafeteria where everyone can see and covet a spot next to the school’s self-declared royalty. At other schools, the royalty was usually the preppy straight A cheerleader and her sports star boyfriend, the cheerleader’s friends, the gridiron (I mean American football!) team, the rich girl that claimed to have Hollywood connections, or the son of the rich car salesman that bankrolled everything in town. It was always the self-important kids that claimed their seat because they had the looks, money, skills, or friends that everyone else so desperately wanted.

I caught a few of these girls shooting longing stares at the table. The few that watched me glance over would commiserate over how badly they wanted a spot next to Lindsay the fashion expert, Jo the football strategist, Lightning the football star, or even Justin. The ones fawning over Justin were the handful of girls showing moral support for my suitors or the one shameless brunette that licked her lips and openly admitted he was her second choice.

Unlike everyone else at my table, I have been part of the popular crowd. It’s just a matter of time until I weasel my way in or someone scoops me up because of my looks, abilities, or charisma. What I find funny are how many times these girls have commented on how mean, cruel, or brutal Jo, Lightning, or even my beloved Heather are. Yet they still long to be part of that table despite the likely, unfortunate probability they’d be crushed or steamrolled over.

I’ve always been the worst threat compared to whomever else was the jerk or backstabber at the popular table. Compared to the arrogant football star or Daddy’s little princess with a sharp tongue, I’m a piranha. A piranha that leaves no trace of the carnage I can commit.

Previously, I would have a full folder of details, secrets, and blackmail on everyone in the popular crowd a week into my tenure at a new school. Instead, I’ve gathered some details and names from passive conversations, but I’ve spent far more time staring at Heather.

My eyes are glued to her, whether it’s her jiggling leg, her flowy skirts and shirt sleeves, the haughty little smirk that plays on her lips. I just keep looking over and looking and looking as if my eyes might fall out or she’d disappear if I didn’t. Then my stomach ties itself into knots every time I see her holding hands with Justin. Every little feather light stroke of his knuckles or brushing his thumb drives me crazy.

I’m far more attractive and fashionable than he is at a fraction of the budget he has to work with. I could crush him like a kid smashes an ant between their grubby little fingers. It’s unbelievable to me that she would consciously, deliberately choose someone like him when I exist. I’m right here, dammit.

“Hey, Alejandro…?” The redhead lightly tugs at my shirt sleeve.

“Yes?” I turn towards her with a friendly smile and resist the urge to turn right back to studying every little gesture Heather makes.

Everyone at the table is staring at us now with a mix of anticipation matched by a couple of eye rolls and Drama Class Girl scowling and tapping her arm. The redhead blushes, plays with her bangs, looks away, then looks back at me while she takes a deep, steadying breath.

“Will you…?” She gulps. “Will...will….um….”

“You can do it, Judy!” Her friend with frosted tips cheers her on with an encouraging smile and an elbow nudge.

Judy giggles and looks away again as she covers her mouth with her hands.

“Are you trying to ask me out?” I ask gently. I’m met with her nodding emphatically and her blush intensifying.

Before she can speak again, Drama Class Girl stomps over and smacks the table with her palm, leaning in towards Judy with a catty leer. “This is so pathetic! Amateur hour’s over, honey. Get lost.”

“What the hell is wrong with you?” The frosted tips friend stands up, grabs Drama Class Girl by her forearm, and starts trying to pull her away. “You promised you’d let her shoot her shot, Gina!”

“I didn’t promise shit,” Gina growled, yanking her arm back.

“You can’t trust Gina,” another girl in pink said with a snort. “Remember Dimitri? She started liking him the minute I said I was gonna make a move…”

“I liked Alejandro before I even knew Judy was interested!” Gina rolled her eyes. “I’ve actually made moves too. He has my fucking number…”

The brunette slithered out of her chair and stood behind Gina. She popped a gum bubble, then lightly flicked Gina’s ear with a mean grin and a chuckle. “If he has your number, then why haven’t you locked him down, Gigi?”

“What the fuck! I was waiting for him to call me. That’s how this works...” Gina raised her hands.

“At least Judy’s being direct. It’s the 21st century, Gigi. Not the misogynistic 1800s with dowries and flowers and courtship bullshit,” the girl crowed with a smirk and narrowed eyes as if she’d just said something really clever. Her comment was echoed by a light laugh from Frosted Tips and a sheepish grin from Judy.

The bigger the brunette’s grin gets, the angrier Gina becomes. A moment later, she shoved her ruffled sleeves to her elbows and dove at the other girl, tackling her to the tiled floor, grabbing her shoulder length ponytail, and starting to yank. Frosted Tips leaps in and tries to pull Gina off only to be roughly pushed away with surprising force. There’s definitely some muscle under Gina’s frilly, lace filled blouse.

Several other students start flocking over and forming a circle around the quickly escalating fight. They whoop, cheer, and scream so loudly that I can no longer hear what any of the girls are saying to each other. Within minutes, I’m on the fringes of a crowd as hungry for blood, guts, and drama as the ancient Roman Colosseum.

“Hey...Alejandro, right?”

My heartbeat picked up a little as soon as I recognized the voice of my favorite demon girl. I turned around to find Heather wearing a nasty smile paired with narrowed, catlike eyes. My imagination amplified the image with a pair of devil horns and a casually batting tail.

“Hello Heather,” I said with a buttery smooth smile and tone.

“Are those girls fighting...over you?” She asked as she pointed at me and then the crowd with a slightly raised a brow.

“Why do you think that…?” I shot her a coy look.

“I heard one of them scream your name.” She walked up and stopped right next to me, but kept her back turned. “And I saw the opening punch. Right before everybody else rushed in and blocked the show.”

“I suppose they...might be fighting over little old me.” I batted my lids a few times and fidgeted with my fingers.

“Hmmm…” Heather looked over her shoulder at me. Then she turned and folded her arms, giving me her full attention as she scanned me from head to toe. While so much of me yearned for her to soak me in with as much admiration as I do with her, this stare felt clinical. She might as well be the lead scientist on a research team and I was the subject plastered to a microscope slide.

“I’ve been hearing a lot about you,” she said, switching from cold to an amused smirk. “I wondered what all the fuss was over.”

“I’m not surprised. I’m quite impressive.” I dropped my innocent angel act and switched to a confident smirk with an added eyebrow raise.

“Mm-hmm...” She placed her hands on her hips. “That confirms it. You’re a scumbag. So, how many numbers do you have so far? Five? Twenty?”

“Excuse me?” I took a step towards her.

Heather chuckled dryly. “I’m giving you one warning, Casanova. Stay away from Beth. Go anywhere near her and…” She slowly, dramatically held up and wriggled her index finger. Then she drew it across her throat with a dramatic gesture. “Get the picture?”

A shiver raced down my spine and I blinked several times. Part of me was furious while another was very wound up, flustered, and falling that much harder than I already was. I swallowed audibly as my brain tried to catch up enough to form a full sentence.

“Okay, since that’s settled…” She sighed and rolled her eyes. “Justin wants to recruit you for his next big shoot. Just wanted to give you a heads up. Ugh, I really don’t get why everybody is going so crazy over you. I don’t see the appeal.”

“Oh?” I folded my arms.

“Yeah.” She huffed. “You’re attractive. But you’re also fake. So, so fake. It’s obvious you’re putting on this perfect little angel act. I’m not buying it.”

“Hmmmm….” I snickered. “That’s rich coming from someone I’ve heard nothing but trash talk about, Heather. Everybody’s commented on how mean and unpleasant you are. That you’d be absolutely nothing without your boyfriend.”

“Really?” She folded her arms and gave me a very bored look. “They’re projecting. I can stand on my own and I boost his image. They’re jealous because they can’t stand on even ground with him. If he was with them, they’d be standing in his shadow…”

“What if I dethroned Justin?” I smirked at her.

“Okay? I highly doubt that you could.” She shrugged and leered at me. “Even if you did, I’m still here. You’d have to defeat both of us and from what I’ve seen so far, you’re not a threat.”

“I can be your worst nightmare,” I whispered with a menacing grin. “There’s so much more to me than anyone’s seen so far. Especially you.”

She marched into my personal space and leaned in close enough I could kiss her. The way my heart roared in my ears accented how irresistible the idea was in my head.

“Bring it on,” she said in a tone dripping with venom. “Whatever you do, whatever you try, you don’t stand a chance, asshole.”

“Mmm.” I let a devious smile slip. “I love angry women. You’re absolutely gorgeous with all of that fire and brimstone in your eyes.”

That comment was a misstep too far since she smacked my chest and growled angrily. Then she turned and quickly stamped away, throwing a middle finger up at me as she did.

Oh, God. I’m in love.

Chapter 1:

Chapter 3:

[mastermindmiko]

Heart shaped eyes

pairing: Draco Malfoy + reader word count: 945 warnings: none, but let me know if you find any

a/n: Here's a little short story to get me going after the two month break. I hope you guys like it.

Hey! if you think this didn't completely suck, feel free to check out my masterlist.

“As much as I want him to, he doesn’t, Pansy.” I huff and I sit down on the bed to wear my high heels. She rolls her eyes, like she does everytime we talk about this subject. She retorts, “Why else would he ask you for the ball then?” 

“Because he had no one else to ask.” I shoot back, and she jumps up from her bed and sits down on the floor in front of me grabbing my arms, steadily, ignoring the way she’s wrinkling her own dress. She says, “Honey, your grades are amazing, so I don’t understand how you don’t get this. He likes you, he asked you to the ball because he likes you.” 

“Then why would he say that we’re going as just friends?” I add a piece of information that I should’ve told her about a long time ago. Her face twists into confusion, and she says, “Did he actually say that?” 

I think back to exactly what happened and I stutter, “I-I mean, he kind of sort of did?” 

“So, he didn’t actually say that?” 

“Well, Draco’s never been very forward about his feelings, but I could tell.” I say, folding my arms, slipping my hands away from her’s. She rolls her eyes once more, and replies, “That is true, but he’s also never been that good at hiding them.” 

I look away from her, not wanting to indulge in the thought that my long time crush of four years would like me back. Pansy starts, “The reason why I stopped liking him-” 

I always hated when she brought up her feelings for him. It was a rocky part of our friendship, both of us hoping he’d like one of us back. She continues, “Is because I wasn’t blind enough to not notice the way he simply adores you.”

Pansy wouldn’t lie to me, I know that, even when she kissed him one night about a year ago, she’d told me straight away, because no boy was worth it. I held back because she liked him, but now that she doesn’t, why am I still holding back?

“I don’t know…I’d hate to do something that would ruin our friendship.” I say, lowering my head to the floor. She nods her head and says, “Alright, that’s a valid concern, but just please open your eyes, tonight, and see what everyone’s been seeing for so long.” 

“Okay, I promise that if I see his heart shaped eyes, I will kiss him myself.” I giggle at the absurdity of my words, and Pansy smiles, but shakes her head disapprovingly. 

She puts on her own shoes, and says, “We should get going, the ball’s about to start.” 

We head down the stairs and Blaise notices Pansy first. He grins and rushes up the last few steps to catch her arm in his grasp. He kisses her and they rush into the great hall, excitedly. I didn't even notice that Draco’s been looking at me till I couldn’t see my friends anymore. 

His eyes are unblinking, but not in a creepy way. I start to feel self conscious as I stand in front of him, and he’s yet to say or do anything. I wave my hand over his face, and say, “Umm, Draco? Is there something wrong with the dress or something?” 

He shakes his head as he snaps out of whatever trance he was in, and he starts rambling. Calm,cool and collected Draco Malfoy starts rambling. He says, “I- no, it’s great, you’re great- I mean uhh, it’s my favourite colour and you’re uh, you’re um…gorgeous, not that you're only gorgeous because of the dress, you’re always gorgeous, beautiful even most of the time, I mean all the time. Even when you’re half asleep during the early classes-”

I really wanted to ignore what was happening, stay on the safe side, to keep our friendship intact, but I really wanted this, I really really wanted him. I couldn’t deny it anymore, Merlin knows how Pansy knew that tonight was the night, but with Draco’s flushed cheeks, and as cringy as it sounds, heart shaped eyes, I couldn’t help myself anymore. 

I cup his face in my hands, and I peck his lips. It’s soft, light, nearly nothing, but it cuts off his rambling and short circuits my heart. He blinks, once, twice, three times, and I start to regret my decision. It’s my turn to ramble, “I’m sorry, I didn’t know that you wouldn’t umm- I should’ve thought of better ways to shut you up like tell you, or slap you or something-” 

He takes a step towards me, effectively silencing me, and pulls me in closer by my waste. He leans down, he hesitates, he looks into my eyes, and I hope that they’re telling him to do it, and he does. He kisses me deeply, the entire opposite of the first kiss. It was strong, and sure. 

He parts from my lips when we aren’t able to breathe anymore. He smiles at me, and I giggle as I see the remains of my lipstick on his lips. I smile, “You’ve got, um-” 

He reaches out to where I’m pointing in confusion, and I stop his hands by holding them, and reaching out my thumb to wipe his lips. Once again, he’s staring at me with so much emotion that I try not to fumble under the attention. I say, “Lipstick.” 

“You shouldn’t have worn any because I think I’m going to spend the entire night with red lips.” He smiles, and kisses me again. When he leads me to the great hall, I’m the one with heart shaped eyes.

[kisskiss-slashslash]

Hello can I request a jason voorhees x reader oneshot were the reader is like mabel pines, a silly goofball ray of sunshine and they have a brother who is the complete opposite and he wants to try and spot the infamous crystal lake killer so he and the reader joins a school trip to the camp for a week and the brother is annyied at how social and silly the reader us and he just stays in his cabin looking up ways to catch jason and the reader goes out to a flower field to make flower crowns and sees him, not knowing that it's jason voorhees and sneaks behind him and places a flower crown on his head and over the week the see eachother in secret and on the last day the brother is frustrated and gives up on finding jason but then the reader shows up on jasons shoulders and is like "hey bro meet my new boyfriend, Jay"

Sounds like a lot of fun 😁

Jason with a Mabel and Dipper Pines-like duo

You always teased your brother for his obsession with serial killers and the supernatural, and you don’t intend on stopping soon.

Coming to Camp Crystal Lake had been his idea; right now, he was convinced that he could somehow catch the legendary Crystal Lake killer.

You didn’t really care either way; this was a summer camp, and that meant so many opportunities for fun!

“And remember, keep your eyes peeled”, your brother cautioned you as you stepped off the bus.

“Aw, don’t worry. I can take care of myself.” You poked him in the ribs and blew a raspberry, which caused him to roll his eyes.

“This is serious!”

You giggled. “Come on, we should have fun!”

“You always have fun”, he grumbled, baffled by your ability to make a game of pretty much everything. “We’re not kids anymore, you know?”

“Alright, Mr. Adult. So just because we turned 18 last month, we have to always be super serious?”

Annoyed, he pushes a hunting knife into your hand. “Whatever. Keep this on you incase you need to defend yourself. I’ll go to our cabin to prepare for the hunt.”

Another girl from your highschool class catches up to you and dryly tells you:”You two are both weirdos.”

“Thanks for noticing!”, you tell her with the brighest, most sincere smile.

While your brother is busy “making plans”, you decide to explore a little. The forest around Crystal Lake is vast and full of interesting plants and critters. At some point, you find a small clearing where some beautiful flowers grow, and decide to make flower crowns to give to the other campers. Who doesn’t like a flower crown?

Once one is done, you spot a tall man walking through the forest around the clearing, and you figure that he must be part of the camp as well. So you quickly sneak up behind him and throw a flowercrown up on his head. It lands a bit askew, but it stays, and he stops and turns around, wide-eyed, once he touched the fragile crown and confirmed that it was indeed just flowers.

“Hi! Nice to meet you! Are you working at the camp?”

He doesn’t answer, so you think to yourself “oh, he’s the strong, silent type”.

“What’s your name?”, you ask further. Again, no reply, and you are so lost in the one-sided conversation that you don’t notice how absolutely baffled the man is at your friendliness.

Your brother is so caught up in his planning for the next few days that he doesn’t even question why you seem to disappear every day. But finally, the last day of camp has come, and he camee up with precisely nothing. Until you come back with Jason, casually holding his hand.

“Meet my new boyfriend!”

Your brother looks at you in horror. “Whaaaat the- Get away from him, that’s the killer!”

For a second, the bright smile fades form your face. “Rude.” But it returns as soon as you turn back to Jason. “Don’t listen to him. My brother is a bit crazy about these kinds of stories.”

And as you walk out with Jason by your side, your brother desperately tries to stammer out another warning, too terrified to speak clearly.

[bethanydelleman]

Giggling at your and anon wishing instead for OPTIONS for Fanny. I was thinking it's odd that Ms. Austen decided that her crush on Edmund was reciprocated at the end when she could've been given justice of some sort with how she's been looked and talked over.

It feels like she's out of choices but then I suppose she is out of choices in the end. This is a woman who is shy in an era where you gotta put yourself out there to be seen by the society and she's not even on a level in a society for her to be out and noticed by the gentlemen even if she does, rank-wise

Which is why my friend and I (who has no talent whatsoever in writing) been talking about this writing idea; a boarding school AU where all the Austen ladies is in it,

Mind you we were just going by vibe and not accurate research, so we put Elinor Dashwood, and Maria Bertram, Mary Crawford and Lucy Steele, Caroline Bingley are in the same year, being the oldest

Eleanor Tilney, Jane Bennet, Emma, and Jane Fairfax are in the same year below the others already mentioned

Elizabeth and Marianne are in the year below them

Mary Bennet and Harriet

Catherine Morland and Lydia Bennet

(the ages are 13-18)

Anne Elliot is one of the matrons

This is kind of controversial, for me and I'm not really a fan of this concept myself tbh, but it'll be kind of a fanfictiony story like the Bridgerton with the society being a little more lenient (lol?); because it's a mixed boarding school

The plot is basically all the stuff in the Austen og universe but they're not all the same, the ages can be tweaked a bit lol, with some plot tangled with the other stories but they're leading to the same endings like, so.....

Catherine doesn't marry while studying, but she keeps talking about the Tilneys because she has a penpal whom she met in Bath before school started, she didn't realize that said penpal has a sister who studies in the same school

Catherine's really that student that just spent most of her time in the library, not studying per se, reading novels, she often has to be told to focus in class for daydreaming

and then one summer vacation spends the entire break at Northanger Abbey,

Later, after new semester starts, Lydia tells her sister in an offhand remark that Catherine seemed really down and her visit to Northanger seemed to be the reason.

Her studies decline even more when she was upset about the whole Gen Tilney situation and one evening she goes to their dorm matron to ask for advice; that's Anne, and there Catherine finds a crying Lucy Steele who had just been visited by Fanny Dashwood and basically well, verbally harassed by a visiting older sister of Edward Ferrars

My friend was adamant we either pair up Fanny Price with an oc (original character) or with~~ Colonel Fitzwilliam, who, in this AU of ours is an exchange student, same with Mr. Willoughby

Willoughby is an exchange student for a year who got attached to Marianne, and then gradually stops replying to her letters after he left their school. Colonel Brandon is one of the school beneficiaries

One of the classes go for a trip to Lyme with Captain Wentworth as one of the guides and that's where Louisa smacks her head and later fellow poetry club member Benwick falls for her (or not! I'm also not comfortable with this pairing tbh.Louisa had a one-sided crush on Capt Wentworth)

I'm sorry this is sooooo long. My friend and O kept going at it from the side of the female characters only tbh and we didn't quite know where to put Darcy and Bingley. Are they students? Or older students visiting from Oxford? Horse riding enthusiasts and club members, sharing a hobby with Elizabeth? We don't know 😂

Hope you like it! It's not going anywhere because we are both not writers, but it's a good giggling source! :D

You should write this! The only thing that makes a "writer" is writing. Go for it. It sounds fun!

[starwarsmum]

Chapter 5 of Introducing: Mousinette!

The next time Damian saw Marinette, Grayson and Gordon had dragged him to a tour of his new campus. It had been a fairly uneventful morning, Grayson had felt it necessary to show him around the university, as though he hadn't visited already.

“You did not mention that you were planning to attend Gotham University,” he said, attempting small talk. He felt the discomfort cloak him like a second skin, his arms stiff, jaw locked. When she gave only a noncommittal noise, he tried again. “What course are you planning on studying?”

“I'm sorry, did I land in an alternate universe?” Marinette said, shooting an incredulous look his way. “Because I seem to remember you being kind of an asshole at dinner the other night.”

“Tt, I said you were behaving like a child, which you were,” Damian responded. If he was a cat, his hackles would be raised and he would be yowling, low in his throat. He watched Marinette bristle, pleased, for some reason, that he was able to rile her so quickly. “If you do not wish to be perceived as a child, perhaps you should act your age more than your height.”

“And perhaps you should act more your age than a pompous, stuck up-” she was cut off by Gordon approaching, chatting with Grayson as he pushed her along. He watched her visibly take a deep breath and push down whatever she had been about to say, before looking at him flatly. “I'm planning on studying business,” she said in a monotone. 

That surprised him, but he was spared from responding by Gordon and Grayson beginning a more animated conversation about the dorms. He watched her giggle effortlessly, charming them both as they approached the business school section of the university. 

“Dames, have you seen the dorms? They're so cool, are you sure you don't want to stay here instead of the manor?” Damian gave Grayson a look of incredulity, before turning away with a derisive snort. “What? It's not like you'd be alone, Marinette's planning on staying in the dorms!”

“Dick, please don't try to convince him to stay in the dorms,” Marinette pleaded, shooting Damian a sceptical look. “Besides, I'm pretty sure Mr Rich Boy couldn't handle one week in the dorms. He strikes me as the hapless sort - has he ever even made a meal?”

“Tt, as if it is difficult. Regardless, the idea of residing in these dormitories sounds a specific sort of torture and I shall not be subjecting myself to it.” He refused to be baited by the little witch - he had no need to learn to cook, and she would not taunt him into proving her wrong. 

Marinette gave him a fierce glare but allowed him to have the last word, which made him unreasonably annoyed. He was even more annoyed when she started to ignore him, just as she had that night at the manor. It changed when Jagged Stone arrived with Penny Rolling and they managed to abscond with Grayson and Gordon.

Things continued in a strained way, Marinette shutting down any attempt at conversation, often walking away from him to view the different departments on display for the day. Eventually, he allowed himself to trail along behind her, keeping a slight distance but close enough that the others could find them both easily.

She had vanished around a corner when he let the gap grow slightly, and he sighed, annoyed. He became slightly concerned when he didn't immediately spy her, but huffed in annoyance once more when he saw her flirting with another attendee. He had blond hair, an athletic build and was only a couple of inches taller than her. He decided to approach, if only so he could taunt her with it later.

“...just hope you aren't in any of my classes in the fall, I'd never get any work done,” the boy was saying. Damian rolled his eyes, slowing slightly so as not to draw attention to himself. “But maybe we'll end up in the same dorm and we could-”

“Thank you for the compliment, but I'm afraid I am not interested, Monsieur,” came Marinette's reply, which made Damian pause. He glanced at her face and she still had a smile in place, but perhaps he had mistaken annoyance for attraction. “Please can you move so I may get back to my friends.”

“Ooh, French, that's hot,” came the smarmy reply, plainly not listening to her. “I bet you could teach me a thing or two about kissing.”

“Look, I have tried to say no politely, but you don't seem to be getting it,” Marinette said flatly, putting a hand on his shoulder to push him out of the way. Damian watched, fascinated by the shift in her demeanor. “And the only kissing I would be willing to teach you, is to kiss the asphalt.” and she pushed his shoulder, hard enough that he took a step back. Which is when he reached out and grabbed her arm, forcing her to stop.

“What the hell, bitch? Think you're too good for an American, huh? Or maybe you don't know how to be polite when someone is being nice to you,” he said, pulling her back sharply and making her yelp. Damian didn't hesitate, taking hold of the other boys forearm. “And who the hell do you think you are?”

“I think I am one of her companions today, and that you need to learn what ‘no’ means. Both the word and contextual cues, as she gave you both and you ignored them. Let go of her, before I force you to,” Damian said haughtily, releasing his grip when Marinette was free. He watched the other boy beat a hasty retreat before turning back to her.

“I had that handled,” she said immediately, narrowing her eyes at him. “I did not need you swooping in, like a bat and sticking your nose in. And I don't appreciate you laughing at me,” she scowled when he lifted an amused eyebrow at her accidental joke.

He watched her stalk away, impressed in spite of himself. She probably could have taken care of it herself, and he wouldn't normally have stepped in, except that she had been grabbed, and made an involuntary noise, so he had moved. Spotting Grayson and Gordon, he started after her, vowing not to get involved unless she asked for help in future.

The rest of the day passed relatively uneventfully, although Damian found his gaze drawn more and more to the fiery Parisian. She had seemed empty-headed and childish when he met her, but he was being forced to reconsider his evaluation of her the more he knew her.

He found himself hoping that she would be attending the university later that year, if only so he could add more to the growing list of idiosyncrasies he had made note of about her.

[lovesunshinefelix]

You're my lover

tags: Fluff 😃👍 , really soft Felix now I want one ☹️

Note: I wrote this one a reaaaally long time ago, and this was the time when I was randomly reading something in tumblr (which was heavily inspired from this and of course, the mother, TAYLOR SWIFT), and I suddenly just 👯‍♀️ I feel bad since I haven't updated after I was telling myself to do so I'll just... put this out here

It had been such a busy week for you; studying for your finals, finishing the last bit of requirements for your classes, and trying to keep up with your part-time job. You were tired. Heck, all you really wanted was to lay in bed and nuzzle in the arms of your boyfriend, who was kind enough to come over and help you around the house for the time being, but you were trying your best to finish your final requirements before your term break so you can finally spend some time with him. You finally submitted your work and stretched happily, clapping them in the process. Since it has been hours of sitting down in front of your desk in your room, you decided to finally get out of your room and look at what your boyfriend is up to.

Contrast to your room, the rest of your house is fairly dim, the light in the kitchen suggesting that your boyfriend has occupied the room. You can hear the faint music playing there. Smiling to yourself, you went your way over to the kitchen, seeing the beautiful back of your boyfriend working on something he randomly decided on. When you were about to be close, he suddenly dropped the plastic bowl he was working on, flour and all sorts flying all over his body. You rushed to his side, stifling some laughter. "What the hell happened?" you said, getting the bowl from the floor. The boy just sighed, trying to scoop some of the products on the bowl. "I wanted to make you some brownies. I already ordered dinner hours ago because I got bored and I wanted you to have a small treat for yourself." he said. You just smiled and chuckled, rubbing off some of the flour from his face "You didn't have to. It's literally your day off." you said, "We can just do them another day." he pouted in response, "But you always tell me how much you've been dying to eat them again! I wanted to surprise you." he whispered the final part. You just chuckled "I'll be fine. There's still tomorrow." I said. "I finally finished everything. I have the rest of the night and the whole day with you tomorrow." you smiled. His eyes beamed at the thought, and he just nodded at you. "Okay, let's just have dinner."

You both had a pleasant dinner, trying to catch up on what you both missed on each other while softly listening to the music in the background. As if on sudden cue, when Felix was done with the dishes (which he insisted on doing), Taylor Swift's Lover started playing. He smiled at you, while wiping his hand on your rug. "Wow, you listen to Taylor." you chuckled, walking over to him and wrapping your hands around his neck. He giggled at you, "What? Olivia recommended it and it was nice." he said, wrapping his arms around your waist. You hummed, "Yeah, it is." You nuzzled your head on his neck. You both swayed to the rhythm, just enjoying each other's company. "You know," you said, looking up at him. "I've always wanted to dance to this song." you confessed. He just chuckled at your confession. He pecked your temple softly, "What do you think we're doing now?" he said, taking one of your hands and positioning yourselves like how people waltzing would. You just smiled happily at him and began dancing around your kitchen.

Can I go where you go?

Can we always be this close forever and ever?

And ah, take me out, and take me home

You're my, my, my, my

Lover

Felix spun you around and pulled you to his arms, laughing at how silly and random it was for you both to just suddenly dance in your kitchen. You just laughed along at him. He nuzzled his nose against yours, his breathing tickling your lips. You just giggled at him, feeling so much love for him. He then finally leaned in and gave you a kiss. One with so much love.