#Not sure how I would feel about that if it turns out to be true :\

[undead-moth]

I didn’t expect you to see my response or I would have been more polite. You don’t need to apologize.

To be clear, I don’t think there’s any excuse for a teacher to just say, “I don’t know, ask GPT.” That is negligent as hell, and I’m sure there’s more teachers like that.

Naturally, I know students are under insurmountable stress. I am a student too after all. I wouldn’t say I believe in laziness either, both in the sense that students who are coping with insurmountable stress aren’t lazy - but also in the sense that even if they’re not insurmountably stressed, I don’t believe someone simply choosing to do less work than they have to is “lazy,” or I would have a problem with calculators.

The problem is students see chat GPT as “less work, same result.” If that were true, I would say, “Go for it.” But it’s not true, and little convinces them of this when many of them - which none of them are to blame for - are primarily there to get a degree. They have bought into the same “I’m never going to use this” rhetoric that’s been espoused for decades, and that administrators are currently using to argue that English courses are no longer needed. If it doesn’t make money, why should anyone have to learn it?

We also have the problem of this current batch of students being educationally stunted due to Covid. I am having to teach students things I haven’t had to previously - classroom etiquette (a student answered his phone in class while I was teaching the other day), tech literacy (they do not know how to save files), basic literacy (they aren’t capable of recognizing the difference between literal and figurative language), and problem-solving skills (when they don’t know how to do something, say, set up their university email, they just decide not to do it) - and have had them turning in worse and worse attempts at the same assignments, on top of them feeling more entitled to leniency than they used to, and less capable of understanding why their work did not earn an A for Effort by default.

Trying to explain to them that Chat GPT isn’t a Get Out Of Failing The Class Free Card That Comes With Zero Long-Term Consequences is extremely difficult.

It’s not about laziness - it’s just a lack of understanding.

I just started grad school this fall after a few years away from school and man I did not realize how dire the AI/LLM situation is in universities now. In the past few weeks:

I chatted with a classmate about how it was going to be a tight timeline on a project for a programming class. He responded "Yeah, at least if we run short on time, we can just ask chatGPT to finish it for us"

One of my professors pulled up chatGPT on the screen to show us how it can sometimes do our homework problems for us and showed how she thanks it after asking it questions "in case it takes over some day."

I asked one of my TAs in a math class to explain how a piece of code he had written worked in an assignment. He looked at it for about 15 seconds then went "I don't know, ask chatGPT"

A student in my math group insisted he was right on an answer to a problem. When I asked where he got that info, he sent me a screenshot of Google gemini giving just blatantly wrong info. He still insisted he was right when I pointed this out and refused to click into any of the actual web pages.

A different student in my math class told me he pays $20 per month for the "computational" version of chatGPT, which he uses for all of his classes and PhD research. The computational version is worth it, he says, because it is wrong "less often". He uses chatGPT for all his homework and can't figure out why he's struggling on exams.

There's a lot more, but it's really making me feel crazy. Even if it was right 100% of the time, why are you paying thousands of dollars to go to school and learn if you're just going to plug everything into a computer whenever you're asked to think??

[zhongrin]

zhongrin © 2024 ❥ do not repost, plagiarize, translate, or feed into ai.

i'm tired, darling.

featuring... ❥ zhongli, al haitham, jing yuan, blade

involves... ❥ hurt/comfort(-ish), implied self-harm, suicidal thoughts/behavior, probably incoherent, not proofread

through the thousands years of his life, through the plethora of sounds that could bring both fear and sadness to the god of stone’s heart, one stands out most; and he is forced to relive this moment as his ears picked up your heart-wrenching wail and loud sobs from the bedroom. he pays no mind to the clatter of his shoes nor the crumple of his signature coat to the floor, missing its intended place at the coat hanger. all he knows is that you’re in pain — his mate is in pain.

zhongli finds you curled in your nest, trembling and buying your head into your favorite pillow. his chest tightens when you peek at him, and he sees the rain of tears staining your cheeks, eyelashes matted and lips quivering. a variety of emotions wells inside him, but he’s sure it’s nowhere near intense as what you’re experiencing right now.

“darling…,” your husband whispers, stepping closer slowly, reaching forward cautiously like he’s approaching a wounded animal, “can i come closer?”

you can’t seem to reply, busy hiccuping and teetering the edges of hyperventilating. wilting and rotting like a flower that’s been rained for far too long. struggling to stay alive, and yet the petals are falling, the leaves crushed, the thin stem drooping.

your skin is marred, and in turn a pained frown mar his face. his gloves are taken off haphazardly, and they gently settle on your back, trying to rub soothing patterns. he knows not to speak, yet he makes sure you won’t be in further danger for yourself.

it’s a slow process, for you to unlatch yourself from the pillow and delve into his embrace instead. but when you finally do after a series of patient coaxing and comforting touches, he holds you tighter.

just hold on, please just hold on. his warm hand cradles your nape, reassuring and solid, while the other squeezes against the flesh of your back. this too shall pass. his lips press against your shoulder; reverent, loving, apologetic. i love you.

for a man who has his way with words, there are just as many unspoken words in each of his silent actions. he can only hope it's enough to tide you for tonight. at least for tonight.

“everything hurts.”

“i don’t know what's wrong.”

“i’m so tired.”

there are many things al haitham knows the answer to. those that he doesn't would normally require some deep research, but at the end of the day he comes out a renewed man who could potentially give a few presentations about said topic if he so wished. but matters of the heart are notoriously fickle, complicated, and perhaps ironically beyond human understanding.

“i don’t know how you can help. i don't know how to even help myself.”

all he can do is hold you, and he is plunged into the enlightening pit that is the realization about the powerlessness of a mortal, as he feels the shaking of your body within his arms. the sharp mind he is often praised and insulted for and the body he trains daily for precautions are useless against this intangible enemy.

what was he to say? “it’s okay”? when he couldn’t guarantee that it would be? “you’ll be okay”? wouldn’t that imply you should have the capability to make yourself okay? “it’ll get better”? wouldn’t it be overly optimistic and naive to believe the world will just somehow align itself to pave a path of flowers for you?

too many uncertainties. too lacking of valid evidences to support his case. broken and as worn out as you may be, you are not a fool, and such is a trait that he will continue to adore about you. the treatment as an equal is what you deserve, even when you’re in your lowest moment.

so he settles with something he knows will be factually true and has a complete control over:

“i’m always here for you.”

everyone equates silence to peace, yet often fails to account silence as suffering.

centuries of living, and jing yuan too manages to make the same mistake. there’s something haunting about the way you lay on your shared bed today. and now that he thinks about it more, yesterday… and the days before, too. something unnatural in your smiles, in the way it slips far too quickly and the way you always close your eyes, as if to hide something. the way you keep your nails short, the nail clipper making itself home on your nightstand and used every morning and every night, almost in desperation. the nights where he would fall asleep to your snore are quiet: the room listens to his breaths and the tranquil chirps of the cicadas outside.

silence.

silence.

silence.

silence.

“darling, something’s wrong, and you’re not telling me.”

you look at him like you’re tired of life itself, and his heart freezes. in a second, he drops onto the bed and cups your cheek. by now you should have berated him not to wear his work clothes and climb onto bed with them, and yet all he’s met with is

silence.

and a shaky breath, before you finally speak, soft and uncertain and numb.

“why can’t it all just end, yuan?”

he can give you a hundred reasons. because it means he won’t be able to see you smile anymore. because it means he won’t be able to make you laugh. because it means he won’t be able to kiss you, make love to you, treat you like the priceless treasure…

… that he has utterly failed to do.

“i’m sorry, darling. i was ignorant. when did this start?” he pleads. the man commanding an entire ship that may as well be a nation in itself grovels willingly before you, his hand cradling yours before bringing it up to his lips. your knight nuzzles your palm, observes the way your eyes turns glassy, a tear slowly sliding down your temple onto the halo of your hair.

“let’s end this silence and talk to me…. please?”

“countless times. countless. times…,” his breath shudders, jaw clenching before his lips reopen, “… you tell me, again and again, to be careful with my body. and yet i come back to see this…”

blade’s breath hitches, and perhaps a stab to the heart would be less painful than the way his body seizes up with hurt at the way you promptly apologize, with those godforsaken tears continuing to make a stream of sadness stain your cheeks.

he’s always seen you as a tempered steel, resilient and sharp, yet comforting and reassuring. the star to his night, illuminating and guiding. the sun in his orbit, ever present and shining so brightly.

he forgets that even the strongest blades, too, can break. that any stars can disappear in an instant by a supernova. that a sun continuously burns itself just to shine and will one day, too, burn out like a fizzling candle.

your voice is as cracked as the weapon he wields and it cuts deeper into the scarred remains of his cursed heart. he swallows thickly, yet the lump in his throat refuses to cease. rough hands tightening before his arms bring you into a painful embrace. just like the way you hold him whenever the nightmares visit. he tries to wipe your crystalline tears with his fingers, watches sorrowfully as your swollen eyes glazes and the whites of your eyes fills with red lines. the grief you experience is harrowing, and he wonders if this is how you feel whenever you see him suffer: powerless, bleak, tortured.

“don’t cry.” would it truly suffice to just hold you like this?

“don’t cry.” would it be better to kill everything you’ve ever interacted with so you won’t be hurt further?

“don’t cry.” would it be better to remove himself from your life…?

“i’ll give you everything,” he finds his own voice break, “everything… so please stop crying.”

[wandaslittlelove]

can you make Agatha and rio fighting for s/n's heart on the road? (Based on lay all your love on me

Lay All Your Love On Me.

Pairing: Agatha Harkness x reader, Rio Vidal x reader Warnings: None Song - Lay all your love on me by ABBA

I wasn't jealous before we met

Now every woman I see is a potential threat

And I'm possessive, it isn't nice

You've heard me saying that smoking was my only vice

When you and Agatha first met it was a year before the whole Westview incident you were confused to say the least. You had heard of the witch killer before. The woman who went around sucking the power and life out of those that got too close. So it confused you when you two had become friends and she had never once tried to take your magic. What was worse was the Jealousy and possessiveness that came along with her. Anyone that looked your way was glared at and told off. It became suffocating. When she had gotten trapped within the hold of Wanda’s magic you were a bit relieved. You missed her considering you didn’t have many friends (especially since she scared most of them away) but you had freedom now. You could do what you wanted without her constantly bombarding you with questions of where you were and who you were hanging out with.

But now it isn't true

Now everything is new

And all I've learned has overturned

I beg of you

The witches road is where you found yourself now though. Back in Agatha’s possessive hold. She wouldn’t let any of the other witches near you and always kept you within an arm's reach. 

When they called upon a green witch though Agatha became more possessive. Rio, the green witch, had crawled out of the hole where you all had buried Sharon and offered you a flower with the words “For you, M’lady.” Before you could even grab the flower though Agatha had ripped it out of her hands and went to lunge at her but was held back by the rest of the coven. Agatha ripped you away from the group as she angrily stomped forward. 

“Don’t go wasting your emotions on her. She’s incapable of feeling.” She turned suddenly taking your chin into her hand and forcing you to look up at her “Lay all your love on me”

It was like shooting a sitting duck

A little small talk, a smile, and baby I was stuck

I still don't know what you've done with me

A grown-up woman should never fall so easily

Rio thought getting you away from Agatha would be more difficult. But turns out all it took was for the teen to almost die. She was sitting next to you with your legs barely touching. She softly tucked a flower behind your ear and watched you smile. The smile seemed to light up her whole world. Caused her blackened heart to beat faster. Rio wasn’t sure how it had happened but she was falling for you so quickly.

I feel a kind of fear

When I don't have you near

Unsatisfied, I skip my pride

I beg you, dear

When Agatha came back to sit with the rest of the group she had motioned for you to come over to her but Rio had wrapped an arm tightly around you keeping you in place. She didn’t know how to describe it but the thought of you being away from her sent a shot of panic into her being. She was scared she’d lose you. Pulling you to stand she pulled you to a small clearing on the road gripping your waist tightly.

“Don’t go sharing your devotion sweetheart. You won’t like the outcome” She whispered into your ear threateningly. She moved one of her hands onto your face and moved so that you could feel her lips brushing against yours “Lay all your love on me” Just as she was about to lean in, Agatha appeared behind you ripping you out of her grasp.

“What did I tell you about wasting your emotion on her sweet thing?” Agatha said sickeningly sweet. Rio glared at the woman behind you as she went to reach for you.

“She knows where her devotion lies.” Agatha only chuckles at Rio’s words the two woman each had their hands on you attempting to pull you away from the other. What have you gotten yourself into?

Don't go wasting your emotion

Lay all your love on me

Don't go sharing your devotion

Lay all your love on me

[serendipitous-girl]

𝒚𝒐𝒖'𝒓𝒆 𝒃𝒆𝒆𝒇𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒂 𝒇𝒊𝒗𝒆 𝒚𝒆𝒂𝒓 𝒐𝒍𝒅?

⊱✿⊰ summary: the overblot aftermath except yuu has my personality lmao

⊱✿⊰ warnings: book 2 spoilers, lowkey bullying leona (but nice), yuu is reader, fully self indulgent, fluffy tho, like a few refs to reader being small cuz im smaller than even ruggie so yeah. Thats like the only physical depictor i think

⊱✿⊰ notes: i had this dream last night and boom bam i made this. I think its preppy and also its lit ny personality and also leona is like 😍

your eyes slowly fluttered open, the bright fluorescents adding to the dull ache in your head. as your vision adjusted you realized you had quite a few people surrounding you. ace and deuce and jack and grim? what happened...?

"what happened?" you muttered out, sitting up in the...cot? you were in the infirmary but why? the last thing you could remember was playing the special round of spelldrive and grim mentioned something about a special move.

"at the beginning of the second half grim threw the disc at your noggin and knocked you out." ace answered barely concealing his snort, "don't you remember?"

"no i don't remember." you grumbled, narrowing your eyes in a glare. ace gave you an apologetic smile that you weren't sure held any real sorry in it.

"i was trying to aim for victory!" grim exclaimed, pumping his fist up. he smiled widely at you and plopped into your lap. despite your annoyance you curled your arms around him, letting him snuggle into your chest.

"you amateurs need to work on your throwing skill." jack replied with an eyeroll.

deuce quickly interjected with a gentle smile, hoping to ease any tensions that might appear. "i for one am glad you're awake! i was scared the hit did some real damage."

"true, you were asleep so long you even missed the closing ceremonies. they're taking everything down now." ace said, still trying not to laugh. evem through your annoyance you couldn't really blame him. it did sound kind of funny that you got hit by a disc because of grim's terrible throw.

"which dorm won?" you asked suddenly, words falling from your lips hurriedly, "how did savanaclaw do?"

even with leona being so underhanded you still wanted him to get what he wanted. he just wanted to feel like he was good enough, something you could relate to heavily. you hoped none of them could tell the way your face warmed with your rambles. maybe you could blame it on pain meds..if this place even had them.

suddenly that growly rumble of a voice filled your ears, leona saying, "diasomia won, unsurprisingly."

your eyes jumped to where leona was, him and ruggie in cots side by side. leona looked goregous, with his long hair still braided and a few bandages scattered across his dark tanned skin. you really ought to focus instead of fangirling over his looks like a silly school girl.

"there was nothing we could do to stop it." ruggie added with a sigh, looking slightly more healed now, "it didn't help that we took a beating from every other dorm before we got to them."

you winced sympathetically, unsurprised the other dorms had gotten their revenge out during the game. even still you felt bad, but perhaps that was your annoyingly empathetic heart talking.

"housewarden! ruggie!" jack exclaimed, turning his body around to see the others in their cots. you slowly sat up, ignoring your dizziness in favor of getting the chance of getting closer to leona. you are surely going insane, why were you wanting to comfort leona after everything he did? why were you wishing to kiss his hurt away in front of your friends no less.

leona tsked, his arms crossed over his hardened chest as he said, "being stuck in the infirmary for anything other than a mid-day nap is about as lame as it gets."

his eyes wandered over to you and you felt your body warm, self conscious about the way you look. you could feel that your hair was a bit tangled and your clothes were slightly frumpled, making you wish leona would suddenly forget you existed. did he think you look bad? you looked at your hands, trying to cease your racing heart.

"and what's worse? none of the diasomia kids ended up here." ruggie pouted, his ears flattening aganist the top of his head. you felt your lips quirk in amusement, finding the small boy's annoyance kinda cute. he reminded you of your friends from your world (though that thought suddenly made your heart feel heavy.)

ace nodded and started talking about the head of the diasomia dorm, apparently being a major powerhouse. you didn't doubt it, seeing as half the guys at this school were insanely large or annoyingly good at magic. they still scared you, seeing as you were neither of those things.

"with that attitude you're never going to beat them." jack said with his fist clenched, all good old determination, "i didn't beat them but i will next year! i'll do anything it takes."

"does 'anything' include your capacity for evil?" leona asked with a slightly malicious grin. you felt mildly deranged for wanting to kiss it off of his face.

"have you learned nothing?" you asked, fighting the urge to get closer. once his grin widened, deliciously evil glint in those pretty brown eyes you felt your resolve wavering.

so you did get a bit closer, sitting on the chair beside his cot. he didn't seem displeased with your proximity as he said, "i didn't realize this was an after school special."

you couldn't help the laugh that bubbled past your lips, eyes lighting up with amusement. he was insufferably wonderful. "i didn't realize you knew so much about those after-school specials."

ruggie interrupted with his infamous laugh, making you feel suddenly aware of the way you were sort of flirting with leona. you backed up and looked shyly away, grateful your friends didn't seem to notice the way you had been half tempted to settle your and leona's debate with kisses.

"there's the leona i know!" ruggie said, making jack roll his eyes. jack reminded you of captain america if he was part of the omegaverse, but the boy's brain might explode if you tried explaining that to him..

"i can already tell this won't end well." jack muttered with a slight shake of his head. you felt your lips curve into a grin at the same time as leona. even though you most definitely didn't want leona try to cheat his way to the top you also liked his...ambition. you were far gone.

deuce, ace, and grim chimed in talking about how they wanted to play in the tournament for real next year. a small part of yourself wondered if you'd still be around by next year or if crowley would have found a way home for you by then. then you quietly wondered whether you would return to your old life or stay in your new one.

suddenly a little boy with red hair bounced into the room, jumping onto leona without a care in the world. your eyes widened, surprised by the freaking kindergartener entering the infirmary. he was adorable and sort of reminded you of your younger cousins, who were all around his age.

"unca! there you are! i finally found you!" the child giggled, hugging up close to leona. leona looked shocked for a moment before his face relaxed to his usual pissed off look and he hugged the kid back.

"unca leona...?" jack mumbled, matching your confusion. all the boys seemed equally confused that this tiny person was calling leona uncle and cuddling up to him without getting beat into a pulp.

"this is cheka, my brother's son...my nephew." leona explained boredly, ruffing the boy's hair. your eyes widened, reeling at the sudden revelation.

"so this is the next in line for the throne." ruggie said in a low tone, amusement filling his expression. you were still shocked this adorable little baby was leona's nephew.

"unca! i saw you play, you were sooo cool!" cheka giggled, his hands tapping against leona's shoulder in a badly attempt at rhythm, "teach me how to play pleaseeeeee!"

"fine, fine just stop screaming in my ear." leona grumbled, plucking cheka off his body and putting him down. which made cheka notice everybody around, particularly you.

the tiny redhead ran to you, jumping onto your lap. he was very similar to your cuddly baby brother so it was easy to just wrap your arms around cheka and let him hug you. you giggled, amused by leona's nephew.

leona was about to protest, and you could have sworn you saw a light dusting of pink across his cheeks. it gave you the smallest glimmer of pride, close enough to the third year that you saw the tiniest details.

"so the source of all leona's anguish is..." jack began, struggling to understand what was happening. everybody was to be quite frank.

"this innocent angel." you finished for him, ruffling cheka's hair. cheka giggled and squirmed in your arms, eyes wide and happy as he looked at you.

"shuddap, all of you." leona grumbled, "stop gawking."

you grinned and couldn't help the way you decided to sit on his cot beside him. you were small enough that you could fit on the bed at his side. cheka seemed happy by this decision because he could now crawl freely between you both.

despite leona's annoyance, he wrapped his arms around your waist to prevent you from falling off the cot. ruggie raised his eyebrows in silent shock, probably surprised to see his big scary upperclassmen cuddle with the random girl who just appeared at the school.

cheka rambled incessantly, asking questions and talking to leona. cheka seemed to idolize leona, making you wonder if he realized that. does leona know how much cheka loves him?

ruggie was laughing like a maniac at the new side of leona they had all discovered, probably wanting to use this as blackmail. you did think it was funny, but it was also freaking adorable seeing leona so soft. leona nuzzled his face into your shoulder, glaring at the first and second years all laughing their heads off.

"are these your friends?" cheka asked, turning around to look at them all. then he looked back at you, "is she your girlfriend?"

"oh for sure. we're besties with leona." ace grinned, even happier when cheka asked about your relationship with leona. you felt your cheeks warm, lips opening to deny the assumption.

but leona didn't give you a chance as he grumbled, "i won't forget about this."

though the boys were still amused they decided to leave, laughing and talking about "unca leona". the older boy glowered, tightening his hold on your body. hell even ruggie left, feelinf well enough to leave the infirmary for a moment.

"you gonna marry her?" cheka asked, bouncing on leona's stomach. leona groaned and pulled the kid off of him, so he wasn't treating the third year like a jungle gym. cheka glanced at you and added, "what's your name?"

"my name is [name] but everybody calls me yuu." you said, ignoring his first question and especially ignoring the way your heart throb at the idea. it was silly, you were a teen and thinking about marrying leona.

leona also ignored the first question just mumbling out a quiet, "furball always trying to start stuff..."

suddenly cheka jumped up, hearing the voices of his attendants. the little redhead ran away as quickly as he came, probably going to cause more chaos. he really was lucky he was so adorable...and the fact he was a prince.

being alone with leona made you acutely aware of the way he was cuddling you. his arms wrapped around your waist and his tail curling around your shin. he was warm, his firm body pressed aganist your back in such a comforting way.

"i didn't say this earlier," he began, his low timbre full of the beginnings of sleepiness, "but im sorry for hurting you when i overblotted. i didn't mean for you to get involved."

you blinked with surprise, your heart stalling as a lump in your throat. maybe he really did feel remorse for what he did, the thought sending a flutter of excitement through your tummy.

slowly you turned so your front was against his, faces inches away. you were both laying down on the small cot, his strong arms keeping you steady and grounded.

with that delightful dizziness in your head, you leaned in and pressed a small kiss to the corner of his mouth. he froze, soft gasp of surprise falling from him. his arms tightened around you, squeezing the skin on your waist.

"its okay, leona. i'm not mad." you replied softly, gifting him your forgiveness like you were sent straight from god. not that you knew if he even had a god in his world. perhaps even without a god, you wondered if he knew how to worship one. if he might worship you like you were one.

lori © 2024. please don't copy, modify, or do anything weird with my writing! i like reblogs and comments but please be kind as this was my writing.

[alwaysthefool]

Orbiter of Bad Days (x Rafayel)

Synopsis: Rafayel accidentally puts you on the spot by asking you his views on his art

Warnings: OOC MC in the sense they’re a bit mean here, feelings of embarrassment, you had a bad day

Tags: angst, comfort, GN Reader, MC/Reader x Rafayel

It hadn’t been a good day. You had been yelled at by a random person complaining to the Hunter’s Association about a different hunter causing damage to surrounding properties while doing his duties. The government would compensate for it anyway, so why did you have to listen to that? After that, you tripped on the pavement, and were scolded by a passerby, who wasn’t even affected, for carelessness. To make matters worse, you had to attend Rafayel’s art exhibit in the evening as his bodyguard. You wanted to bail, but Thomas got to you first with a text.

“We need you here, there’s already many vicious reporters not on the guest list.”

That was just your luck. You quickly changed to a suit, befitting a bodyguard, instead of dressing fancy like you usually would when you went to these places with Rafayel. After all, you were employed by him, right?

You took a bus to the event this time, worrying that driving would end up in you getting yelled at by someone again, and surprisingly nothing went wrong on your way to the gallery, making you think perhaps your bad luck streak had ended.

You quickly met Thomas, who too frowned at your attire, but then shrugged. “Just… make sure they don’t reach him, okay?” He said, referring to the infamous reporters known to trick people into saying incriminating things. You wanted to ask if you could just kick them out, but they’d probably make a big deal about that too.

You couldn’t really see Rafayel anywhere, and you forgot to charge your phone so you couldn’t text him. I guess he’s getting ready for the event.

You sighed, seeing the hall fill up as Rafayel’s paintings were displayed in beautiful 3D layers by a projector on the stage. The reporters were impressed, capturing the scenes, and the famous guests that attended.

“But he’s a little late, isn’t he?” One of them spoke a little too loudly, making heads turn.

“He’ll be here any minute.” You replied, not even sure if that was true.

And that was when you became the target of the night for those two, a camera and mic shoved into your exhausted face.

“You’re his bodyguard, aren’t you?” The reporter’s smile was venomously sweet, but not exactly fake. He was happy to have caught such a prey.

“I… yeah.” You tried, and failed, to sound confident. I’m sorry, Rafayel. You thought, knowing you’d fall in whatever trap they set for you. Whatever though, you had been the villain for many people today, what was wrong with one more?

“So, what do you think about his art?”

“I don’t think my opinion matters here.”

“Actually, it does.” A familiar voice spoke. There he was, in a blue suit, walking towards you, turning all heads towards you.

You didn’t know what to say. The hall was filled with art graduates, people from foreign countries, geniuses, and him. How could you say anything that mattered more than what they were thinking?

“I think it’s aesthetically pleasing.” You murmured. People in the crowd hummed in agreement, and you wished Rafayel would just leave it at that.

“Is that all?” He inquired. You looked up at him, his eyes piercing your face.

Rafayel, I feel embarrassed. Please just shut the fuck up.

Maybe he sensed that, how could he not? He was excellent at knowing what you felt, but he didn’t say anything, as if he really wanted to hear what you had to say.

Fine, then.

“I also think… it’s ridiculous.” You weren’t really talking about the paintings. “You critique the ignorance of elites in society, but it’s funny because you’re being cruel right now.”

Rafayel’s face turned into one of concern immediately, and he tried to speak, but you continued. “Did you get tomorrow’s headlines, guys? Did you have fun, Raf?”

You wanted to take everything you said to him immediately. You were lashing out at the wrong man. Before anyone could see the tears that filled your eyes, you murmured an apology and ran backstage. This was probably the worst day of- well, just the month, and it was only the 3rd. You found a stair to sit on, behind the projector room, and cried with your knees folded. You were embarrassed. You made a fool out of yourself in front of everyone. You ruined Rafayel’s day. You-

“There you are.” You didn’t know when he came to sit beside you, but he was kind in a way you felt you didn’t deserve.

“I’m sorry.” You spoke in a cracked voice, holding your knees closer to yourself.

“What do you have to apologise for?” Out of the corner of your eye, you could see him try to reach out for you, but then keep his hand to himself. “I shouldn’t have put you in that situation.”

“Yeah, no, you shouldn’t have.” You admitted, looking up at him with a tear stained face. “But it still didn’t make it okay for me to be rude about your art.”

You wiped your face with your sleeve, turning towards him. He had a neutral expression but there was a much deeper sadness in his eyes. He once told you that eyes don’t lie, and as long as your eyes are visible, you’d always be able to catch someone in one.

He was hurt, deeply.

“I didn’t mean it, you know. I was… I just don’t know why you’d ask me that in front of people you know would make fun of how uneducated I am.”

“No, you’re not-“ Rafayel wasn’t sure what to say. “Does it matter what they think? I think your opinion is the most important, and in this entire gallery, you’re the only one who matters to me.”

“Bet you say that to everyone you’ve been with.” You teased, and he hoped you didn’t see his red ears. He was grateful you weren’t taking him seriously, because would his words even make sense to you, who remembered nothing? But yes, he did only say that to everyone he’d been with, which was you, you, and always you.

“What other people think matters to me.” Your tone was soft, with hints of bitterness. “You wouldn’t understand, because you’re different. You think differently than I do. I… live on earth, and you live someplace I can’t reach. I see glimpses of it when we’re alone, I feel it through your art, but when I’m around people, I feel their words, their judgment, their voices, and I’m back on the ground. I start feeling small, and sometimes, I become someone you wouldn’t like.”

“Hey.” He pulled you closer, resting his head in your shoulder. “There isn’t one version of you I wouldn’t like. I like it when you get angry, and I like your ugly side. I like it when you lash out because you had a bad day, and I like all your little thoughts.”

“I like you too.” You rested your own head on his.

He smiled, his heart going several miles in a minute. He held your hand in his, tracing the shape of a fish with a heart tail. “Are we in my world right now?” He asked, not caring about the event.

“Yeah. And there’s no place I’d rather be.”

-x-

[b3ach-bunn7]

JAPANESE DENIM

You’re one of eight princesses invited as a potential bride for Prince Satoru. With no idea what he looks like, you find yourself ranting to the Prince himself how little you want to marry him

Royal!au, fluff, strangers to lovers

—————————————————————————

You wonder how angry your parents would be if you pretend to collapse against the cold tiled floor.

Your dress trails as you walk idly around the ballroom. Your petticoat and crinoline make you feel ten times heavier, your heels pinching your toes as you drag the fabric around. You’d think you’d be used to it by now, the formal dress and the discomfort of it all. But you never have and you never will, which is why you know Prince Satoru will never pick you tonight.

Your parents weren’t even that important. You’re a princess from a kingdom that doesn’t mean much in the grand scheme of things, and you know of the eight girls here tonight you’re the least royal. That, and you’re definitely the least princess-like of them all. Unlike the majority of the girls here, you don’t want to get married. You hate the fact that you’re all dressed up to parade yourself in front of a man just so he’ll pick you to bare his children. You hate that you know nothing about him other than his name and his status. You were here because your parents had forced you to be, but you have no intention of running around and playing nice.

It’s why you’re standing to the side, looking at a painting on the wall. It's tall and so intricately detailed you wonder how long it had taken to be made. You’re sure if you look close enough at the woman depicted you could make out the wrinkles in her skin.

“The painter’s name is Choso. He’s good, no?” 

A voice pulls you out of your stupor. You hum softly. “Yes. It’s very beautiful.”

You turn to the voice and you are very glad you did. The man in front of you is incredibly attractive. He’s tall, for one, his hand curled around a glass of wine. His clothes look expensive, a fine tailored navy blue tunic with a white collar curling around his neck. His eyes are unnervingly blue, and you watch them trail up and down you. He looks slightly amused but also just as bored as you do.

“I’m Y/N. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” You nod your head. You're still unsure who he is, but his garments look far too regal for him not to be important.

He just nods back. “Likewise.” He doesn’t give you his name and you don’t ask for it.

“So. You’re not enjoying the ball tonight?”

You roll your eyes. “No. How long do you think I can wait before it’s socially acceptable for me to leave?”

He huffs a laugh. “You’re already looking to leave? The prince has not even chosen his bride.”

“And if my wishes come true, that bride shall not be me.”

“You’re one of the bachelorettes?” He asks.

You nod, sighing heavily. The man grabs a drink off a nearby waiter and hands it to you. You nod your thanks. There’s a few eyes on the two of you but you pay them no mind. You turn back to the painting and he follows.

“Yes. My parents brought me here to present me to the Prince, but in all honesty I have no intentions to be picked.”

The man tilts his head. The stark white curls on his head curve against his cheek, as the corner of his lips twitch into a smile. “You don’t wish to be his bride?”

You frown. “No. I’ve no knowledge of the man. For all I know he could be a hideous troll.”

The man laughs then, and the sound makes you smile. “An interesting fear to have.” He takes a step closer to you and his height towers over you. “Do you believe all princes to be hideous trolls, then?”

“Only the ones I’ve never met.”

He grins. You lean against the wall and he just watches in faint amusement. “Not very ladylike for a princess.”

“Columbus, if only you felt what it was like in these heels.” You cover your mouth at the curse that slips past your tongue. You shoot him an apologetic look. “God. If my mother heard me speak like that I’d be hung.” 

“Don’t worry, my lady. Your secret’s safe with me.” He places a hand on his heart solemnly and you laugh.

The orchestra's music rings across the hall. The room is bigger than any ballroom you’d been in thus far, but you're not surprised. The Gojo family is the richest one around, and the extravagant decorations are enough to tell you that. You take another sip of wine. It’s expensive and you hum contentedly. You turn to the man next to you and find him already staring at you.

“Do you have any idea what the prince looks like? I suppose I should mingle some. I can feel my mother glaring at me from across the room.”

The man moves an inch closer, voice dropping to a softer tone. “If you’re so frightened he’s some hideous troll I could describe him to you. If it would ease your nerves.” He teases. 

You nod. The distance between you two is smaller than you’d thought and when you turn to face him you’re near enough to almost brush his nose with yours.

“If you wouldn’t mind.”

He breathes heavily. His eyes dart around the room. “Well. He’s tall. Devilishly handsome. Long hair, good build.”

You look out into the crowd as well. Your eyes land on a man in green silk robes, long black hair curling down his back. “Is that him?”

The man’s eyes follow yours and they darken upon seeing the same man you do. He frowns. “No. That is not Prince Satoru. That is Suguru Geto. He comes from a much lesser family than the prince.”

You know Prince Suguru, of course. Everyone around the country had heard of his fight with Prince Satoru that had nearly caused war between the two families. You peer at the mystery man curiously, at the sour look on his face. You’re interested in what his problem with that Prince is. 

 “Do you know him? Personally, I mean.”

The man’s eyes flicker to yours. “No. Why do you ask?”

“You speak with much contempt.”

He smiles slightly. “You see right through me, my lady. We’ve had a few arguments.”

Your brows furrow in confusion. “You have? How did you come across him?”

He just taps the side of his nose, smirking. “You’re a very nosey princess, did you know that?”

“Well, I’m not known for my graciousness.” He laughs.

You look back at Prince Suguru, where’s he’s talking to two young girls. “A shame, though. He’s really quite attractive.”

The man’s nose wrinkles in disgust. “I disagree. I- Prince Satoru is much more good-looking.”

“Hopefully I’ll never know.”

He snorts a laugh at the disinterest in your voice. “May I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“Why come here? Get all dressed up and ready if you have such an aversion to marriage?”

You sigh. Adjust the top of your corset, finish the rest of your glass. He looks at you patiently, and you miss how his eyes dip to your chest for just a second.

“I’m a princess to a king and queen with no heirs except for me. Despite my aversion to it, I’m not stupid enough not to realise the importance of marriage. I need to marry someone who can benefit my family and my kingdom.”

Your eyes land on the other potential brides. They walk with an air of elegance you never seemed to be able to achieve, a beauty that, despite your aloofness, you can’t help but envy. You sigh slightly, hoping the man next to you doesn’t see the sadness on your face.

“And your happiness is not a factor?”

You snort. You can hear your mother in your head telling you how unladylike you are for making such a noise. 

“Don’t make me laugh. I’m not sure where you stand in your kingdoms lineage, but my happiness is never a factor.”

He hums. “I see. Just another pawn for the chessboard of politics and duty.”

You nod. It’s weird how he understands. Most men would scold you for even complaining.

“It’s quite alright. I know a man like Prince Satoru won’t want someone like me, anyway. So I don’t bother.”

“And why wouldn’t he want you?” The man taps his fingers against his now empty glass. You turn to him once more. He looks confused now.

“Look at me. I’m nothing like those other girls. I speak impolitely and I lean against walls and talk to strange men instead of him. I’m not as beautiful as they are. But what can I do?” You shrug.

“You’re wrong. I think you are very beautiful.”

His words draw you to turn to him once more. He looks at you so earnestly that you couldn’t not believe him if you tried. You bow your head in thanks.

“Thank you, sir. As flattered as I am, I doubt the Prince will agree with you.” You shake your head.

The man shrugs. He grabs the glass out of your hand, and for a moment your fingers brush against each other. They’re smooth, unmarred by work, another sign of his nobility. He places the glasses on a waiting tray.

“You never know. Keep your hopes up, my lady.” 

You go to respond but suddenly, a voice calls form the front of the hall. It’s time. You shut your eyes, cursing to yourself. You hadn’t even had the chance to speak to the Prince all night. You can already imagine the scolding you’d receive once you got home. You look back at the man and he’s already turning to leave. You reach out and grab his arm. The fabric of his clothes feel expensive beneath your grasp.

“Wait. I never got your name.”

He just taps the side of his nose again. You roll your eyes. “You’re so cryptic, did you know that?”

He barks a laugh. He bows, deep and low. You watch his white locks flutter in front of you, so soft you almost reach for them. 

“Good luck, Y/N.”

“Yes. Thank you.”

And you’re being dragged away by a waiting lady before you can see where he goes off to. You don’t have too long to wonder if you’ll ever see him again, because you’re suddenly placed between the other girls, all lined up in the front of the room. You try to smile at the girl beside you but she only scoffs, turning her nose up as she looks away. You roll your eyes. Some people.

You glance and see the Prince's two knights, two pink and black haired boys, standing at the side. They look awfully young to be fighting, you wonder, but the glare on the black haired one’s face makes you feel like they might never need to. 

The King and Queen look at the row of you with interest. All big, long robes of expensive cotton and silk trailing down the golden thrones they sit on. It’s only then, when you’re studying the intricate finery of their crowns, you notice the Queen's hair. A white, so stark and vibrant you don’t think you’ve ever seen it anywhere else. But then you realise you have. On a mysterious man insistent to make conversation with you. And it’s then, when you turn your attention to the King, you see his eyes bluer than the ocean and the sky combined, and your heart drops.

Because just as the dots connect in your head, your mystery man comes to stand at the front of the hall. Eyes trailing lazily over the women next to you before they land on you. And then he grins, winking at you quickly. 

The girl besides you gasps. “Gods, he just winked at me.” She speaks in a hushed tone to the girl next to her.

You're too distracted to try to correct her. You’re so stupid. How could you not know? Of course, it was your first time in the kingdom, but. How had you no idea that he was the prince? The man you’d practically embarrassed and debased yourself in front of, cursing and calling him a hideous troll to his face. You feel your cheeks flush as his gaze doesn’t waver from yours, an unreadable expression on his face.

The signs were all there. The way he carried himself. Something about him just screamed expensive and important, if not for his important robes or the way people had been glancing at the two of you all night. His hatred for Prince Suguru. You’re a fool.

You’re so stupid. He’d have you hung, surely. Hung or exiled from the country as a whole. 

Your hands tighten where they are clasped in front of you. You watch as the king stands, steps forwards until he is side by side with his son. He claps a hand on his back and the Prince straightens slightly. 

“It is now time for my son, the oldest and only Gojo heir, to choose a candidate to be his future queen and mother of his heirs.”

You’re sure the king says more but your brain is too preoccupied. You wonder what your mother will say. You wonder how horribly your reputation will be after this. If any man will ever want to marry you. You’re so caught up in your thoughts that it takes you a minute to hear Prince Satoru say your name.

“Princess Y/N. I choose her.” 

You can’t move. Chatter erupts amongst the people and the women next to you sound just as shocked as you feel. Satoru just looks at you expectantly. You feel your mothers hand curl around yours. You let her drag you forward, smiling and nodding at those who bow around you. She whispers congratulations as she and your father come up to greet the king and queen, and you’re placed in front of Satoru.

You bow your head immediately.

“Please, forgive me for my actions before, I- I had no idea you were the prince, I had no right o say what I did.” You say quickly.

A hand curls under your chin, lifting your head up to look him in his eyes. There’s a small, pleased smile on his lips. 

“None of that, now. Where’s all that sass I saw from you earlier?” He grins.

You scoff. “I’m not stupid, your majesty. I would never call you such names to your face.” 

“So you would behind my back?”

Your cheeks flush and you shake your head quickly. “Well, no I-“

“Please, Y/N, calm down. It is quite alright. I liked your sass. Your vim. So refreshing after my conversation with those ladies behind you.” 

You sigh. His hand leaves your chin and they both travel down to grab your hands.

“But. Why me?”

“Why not you?”

You roll your eyes, then look towards the other girls, who are glaring daggers at you from below.

“They’re better princesses than I. All prim and proper. Polite. I doubt any of them would call you a hideous troll. They’re perfect.”

Satoru can’t help but let out a soft chuckle at your response.

“Ah yes. Princesses are supposed to be perfect.  All manners and decorum, never showing any sort of flaw or imperfection."

He turns back to you, a glimmer of mischief in his gaze.

"Which is exactly why I picked you."

You tilt your head slightly. “You’d settle for imperfection? For me?”

Satoru shakes his head slightly, his gaze locking with yours.

"No. I don’t want to settle for imperfection. I just don’t want perfection. I don’t want a prim, proper princess who’s only talent is looking good."

He steps closer to you, his eyes searching yours intently. And now, with him as close as he is, you can see a dusting of freckles across his face, eyes tinged with a hint of green you’d not noticed before. He’s so beautiful and you can’t believe he’s yours.

"I want someone real. Someone who will challenge me, make me think, keep me on my toes. You are not a prim, proper princess. And I like that."

He smiles cheekily. “And I meant what I said earlier. You are beautiful.”

Your breath comes shakily at the close proximity. He smells like something rich, expensive and his thumb rubs circles on your hand.

“I’m glad. And I will try to be a good wife for you, your majesty.”

Satoru gazes down at you, an inscrutable look in his eyes. You look so suddenly vulnerable, and a small part of him feels bad for putting a hint of uncertainty in you. For putting you on the spot like this. His hand comes back up to graze your jawline.

"You don’t have to try to do anything. Just be you." He smiles. "That’s why I chose you."

Satoru lets his hand drop, but not before his thumb gently brushes across the edge of your jawline, lingering for a moment. You watch his eyes dart to your parents conversing behind you. His gaze flicks back to you, a small smirk on his lips.

“At least your parents will be off your back now.”

You grin. “I’d hope so, having married into the Gojo family.”

Satoru lets out a soft huff of amusement. "Yes, I imagine they're quite pleased."

He glances at your parents across the room, who are clearly quite satisfied with themselves. He turns his gaze back to you, his smirk growing slightly.

"I’m sure they’ll be even more pleased when they get to have grandbabies."

Your cheeks redden. If not just for his words but for the hungry way he looks at you.

“I hardly think that’s a conversation to have right now, your majesty.”

“Enough with the formalities. Call me Satoru, you are my wife now.” He takes a small step closer to you, his eyes dancing with amusement.

"And why not?" he teases, his voice low. "Isn’t a prince allowed to be excited about his future heirs?"

“Well of course. It’s just. I hardly think this is appropriate to discuss in front of all these people.”

You hope nobody can see the flush on your cheeks from the hall. Satoru lets out a soft hum, noticing how your eyes dart away from his.

"We are soon to be newlyweds, sweetheart," he replies, a hint of husk in his tone. "Discussing heirs is hardly inappropriate."

He grins slightly as he steps even closer, his body almost a breath away from touching yours.

"Afraid to discuss the… practicalities in front of everyone? Hm?"

“I- Yes. Slightly.” You laugh nervously.

And Satoru’s grin grows wider, his eyes gleaming with a hint of mischief. He reaches out, his hand gently grasping your chin once again, tipping your face back up to look at him. His thumb grazes ever so gently over your bottom lip, the touch sending a shiver down your spine.

"No need to be nervous." His voice is low, almost a murmur. "After all, we will be getting rather intimate very soon."

With all the luck in the world, your mother steps forward, bowing to Satoru before gesturing you away. The weddings to be set in three days, three days until you become a Gojo and the next queen in line for the throne. You watch with keen eyes as Satoru greets your mother like he’s know her his whole life. Has some weird manly conversation with your father, before he returns back to you.

“Three days. I trust you’ll be able to keep yourself out of trouble until then?” He raises a brow.

You bite back a smile. “Yes, Satoru. I’ll see you then.”

He nods. “Until the wedding, then. Safe travels, Y/N”

—————————————————————————

I had this idea while watching Harry Potter movie? I have no idea why. Also reader why r u lowkey like.. not like other girls omg 🙈

also I’ve lowkey been so obsessed with Harry Potter recently??? So either except some Harry Potter fics or some JJK/MHA X HP fics 😝 feeling bold

I hope u enjoyed!!

[cloveroctobers]

CUT TIES — Terry Richmond [Fall Crumbles] 🤎

A/N: There’s enough Terry to go around right? This is inspired by two things…OFC a song + taking another chance at writing something influenced by Love is Blind. Who saw that wasteful reunion?! Anyways that is what this is so get ready for angst.

WARNINGS: Reference to a intimate moment but a line at best?

જ⁀➴ ༄ જ⁀➴ ༄ જ⁀➴ ༄ જ⁀➴ ༄ જ⁀➴ ༄ જ

11:32pm

FROM: T. Richmond

I Need To Hear Your Voice…Can You Call Me?

Was the text message he sent you, which made you let out a long exhale.

11:43pm

TO: T. Richmond

I’m at work T [Deleted] Terry.

11:44pm

FROM: T. Richmond

I’m Aware. I’ll Feel Better When I Hear Your Voice…And I Know You’re Probably Saying That I’ve Got A lot Of Nerve To Say That To You Right Now…Yet This Will Always Be True, No Matter How Things Ended.

You were glad Terry can acknowledge that he did in fact have nerve requesting a call from you, when the both of you already had that final closure conversation weeks ago…however here he was back again, entering your life whenever he pleases.

Picking up your phone, after watching it ring for a while you debated about letting it go to voicemail honestly. You really didn’t need to hear many more angles about whatever situation Terry got fucked over in. Things seemed to be going well lately though, at least that’s what he tried to portray on social media…which was also new for him.

Always the type of man to be lowkey and out the way but after the exposure of being contestants on a certain love show, he stepped out just a little. It was never too much, Terry wasn’t the type of man to be in your face about his blessings but if things went south, then he had no problem stepping to you if common ground couldn’t be located.

“Hey,” He starts, his deep tone sounded as if he was ready to go to sleep, possibly lying down, whereas you were wired on your night shift, “Sorry for bothering you—

Rolling your eyes, you couldn’t help but to let it slip through your lips, “Are you though?”

He hummed, “Nope, can’t say that I am, to be real with you.”

“Well, can’t ever say you failed at honesty.” You replied with a hint of sarcasm which made Terry chuckle humorlessly, “What’s up? What was so important that you needed to be on my hotline right now?”

It was Terry’s turn to roll his natural underlined eyes but he’s not trying to pick a fight or even think about you with someone else, “…the house is too quiet and I couldn’t sleep. The first person I wanted to talk to, to ease the loud silence…is you. I believe that’s how it’s always gon’ be.”

Not long after you called it quits, Terry closed on a house that he’s been eyeing long before he decided to go on the show. It was meant to be if they couldn’t get it sold. He of course talked to you about it once you were out of the pods, saying how some rooms needed Reno and asked your thoughts on if that could be your main home once married. Thankful that you already had your home that you owned at such a young age, You spoke about how much you already invested in your home and how you had no plans of selling just yet even if you two chose to get married.

Which isn’t something that he wanted you to do but questioned how this would work. He wasn’t down with sleeping in separate houses, although Terry knew it would take time to get everything right, the house he bought was livable and he wanted that with you.

Something that Terry always admired about you is, that you had your own mind and drive to do what you felt was best for you. He respected it, had to really learn how to when you said you two needed to put some distance between you after a final argument got too heated.

“…I’m sure you’ll get used to it at some point.”

“I don’t know if I agree with that.”

Terry listened to you sigh.

“I’m going to say something you won’t want to hear but I’m saying it anyway,” you start as you lightly flick your feathered pen back and forth at the desk, “You’re going to have to get comfortable being alone in that house, Terry. I know you’ve been used to being a lone wolf majority of the time…but you officially settled somewhere now and you’re building a life outside of the danger you once knew. Which I’m proud of by the way but you’re going to have to start finding comfort elsewhere or with yourself because I’m not going to provide that to you anymore.”

Terry was afraid that you were going to say this one day. Usually you both were good at having balance when your relationship was solid, giving each other the space needed and showing up when needed. Everything just took a turn once the chaos showed up again at Terry and his cousin, Mike’s business. This was the first time Terry ever lied to you and that came at multiple costs. It blew up in his face because leaving you in the dark and not communicating with his fiancée? led to being stalked and a home invasion that still haunted you.

Terry would always be sorry for that.

From bliss to passion to heat to closure to yearning. It was all stages of what this relationship was, for Terry it was the process of your love story whereas for you, it was part of your origin story.

“What if I say…I’m finding that’s not what I really want?” Terry speaks, “…That I don’t see much of a future without you in it? We talked through that hurdle, we wished each other the best after the reunion but what if that’s not enough for me? What if we’re each other’s best?“

This was another side you predicted would happen. One thing about you is, your mind was always turning just like the earth spinning on its axis. Which took another turn in your argument, speculating things that weren’t true once you found out that Terry lied about some new men targeting him. You predicted that once you both tried to move on and live without each other, the other would crack. It happened before, a month after the reunion when his aunt invited you to her forty-fifth birthday party. Your friends told you not to go and that night made you weak for Terry Richmond.

So weak you couldn’t feel your legs for days, Terry knew your body so well, had no problem burrying himself deep downstairs in his aunt’s basement, green hues trained only on you, while having your legs in the perfect V over his shoulders, and that man was a mountain.

A dangerous one.

Now it was your turn to fully stand on business and the year was coming to a close so you didn’t need Terry to find new ways in.

That was supposed to be understood but you both fumbled that at the party.

You had enough time to figure out what was best. Of course you experienced the what if’s yourself, been as loyal as they came but a structured life of constantly looking over your shoulder was just not it to you. To no longer feel safe with the man you thought you would grow old with. Now you had the world weighing in on what they’ve seen on their tv’s and online—you can handle challenges—you worked as a nurse on the oncology floor, however you have to be smart enough to realize when it was too much and that was enough to walk away.

“At a time we were,” you finally answered before reassuring, “Everything you’re feeling is valid. I hear you. I’ve been there and got through that. You will too.”

Terry’s silence was as potent on the phone as what he probably felt like the inside of his home was. The scratching of the branch that was too close to his bedroom window was similar to the clawing you were doing to his heart. He didn’t want to lose you for good, call him selfish but he didn’t want to just forget the unique connection you built.

Although he felt disrespected with the way you spoke (yelled) to (at) him during your breaking point, he was willing to come back and work through it but ultimately it felt like there was no trust there anymore. Terry did feel like you were looking for a way out because you two were “too” good together, unfortunately this was too big of a situation to come back from.

The stubborn one out of the two, Terry can sense that you already had your mind made up. Two tough conversations were had, one behind the scenes and another for streamers to dissect and formulate their own opinions on, should have been enough but Terry always kept his cards close. You were his most precious one, yet you were telling him how to store it away back into the deck for good.

“Is this really what you want? To fully walk away?”

A hint of annoyance hits you and could be felt as you start, “We went over this—

“So us going two rounds that day meant nothing?”

Sure it did.

“Terry that was goodbye, you had to have known that. The last hurrah. So let me make it clear this time without raising my voice because I know you hate that—and I’ve been working on it—I’m cutting ties.”

Half expecting the line to go dead, you still find yourself holding your breath as the quiet goes deadly silent. Until you hear shuffling on the other end, Terry’s sitting up on the edge of the bed now, feeling a stress headache arrive right on both sides of his temples which then radiate to the back of his neck.

“I don’t want this to come off the wrong way…but I love you. I need you to know that.”

That was obvious but again, sometimes love isn’t enough.

“Don’t do that.”

“What’s that?”

“Trying to find other angles to make this work. We tried after the big argument—that spark isn’t the same and would never be the same.”

Terry huffs, “Maybe we didn’t try hard enough.”

Grasping at straws, was not necessarily in Terry’s nature. He also knew that statement was just not true. Both of you put your hearts on the line and this was something the both of you would have never taken so lightly.

“…don’t let your loneliness overshadow what can’t be managed. We been made our decision but this is me finally enforcing a boundary.” You inhale air through your teeth before continuing, “You are headstrong, very structured and lived a life that I know nothing about if it comes knocking at our door again. What happens if we brought kids into that? It’s not that I don’t believe you couldn’t keep us safe, it’s the fact that our lives would always be at risk even if it’s not something you intentionally brought to the table.”

“We take risks every time we step out the door. That’s what life is,” Terry tried to reason, “I tried to leave the life I lived prior behind me, which is why I like to keep to myself and not open up. You changed that. I know we’ve been over this countless of times…I just don’t know if I’m ready to completely cut the rope. To never have you around is…a scary thought.”

In a minute, it wouldn’t just be a thought.

“It’ll be as if before we met. I’m not saying it’s easy by any means but I’ve accepted the art of letting go. Ending access to each other for real this time, does not automatically mean we never loved each other or there isn’t any more love there. If we fell back into each other, it would be a repeat of all the pieces we wouldn’t want to live with. It’ll be hard to fake and deal with.”

“Deal with?” Terry echoed in a tone that oozed frustration, “I’d be willing to be a team.”

“Then why wasn’t that taken into consideration when those men shot up your business? Or me being stalked by one of those men at work? Then being followed home.” You felt your blood pressure rising at what you thought you forgave—but everything is a process, “Or when Summer and I went out to lunch, just to find out that she knew about the drive by before I did? Or how I almost got ran over on purpose in the parking garage at work? That didn’t feel like team work. I was in the dark when we needed to continue to be a piece of each other’s light from the damn sun rays. Being the last to know often, did not make me feel like a priority. I feel like that part of you, you wanted to shield me from all the time…so now I’m going to be a shield on my terms.”

Terry Richmond never wanted to be responsible for changing the trajectory of someone’s entire life in a negative way. Although you said the love shared wouldn’t just vanish, it did feel like you thought about it and had time to sit on it.

He could make this easy and give you what you wanted, should have and it was once something he actually agreed to. However people change their minds all the time and he never saw himself falling out of love with you.

It wasn’t about being trained, it was about being in love.

He clears his throat, “I had no intentions on making this conversation out to be difficult…I knew I’d get push back, it’s one of the things I love about you,” Terry says, “I just wanted to let you know that I miss you, that your voice is actually what makes me feel safe and probably always will. And that I hope I’d get the chance to love you more in every lifetime. That was part of what I wrote to you in our vows by the way and I still stand by those words. If I had more time, those words would be actions. I’d make up for it, if you just let me.”

Him saying that over the phone, did make you feel a way. It made the back of your eyes burn but the shield was already in the works of being fully up. You didn’t need to hear this, you never doubted Terry’s love for you but it was over, you had the scissors slowly running along what kept you connected. Terry didn’t get the choice to go back on the agreement, yes people change their minds all the time but there was no time to compromise.

“There’s no use in crying over spilled milk, Terry.” Is all you can say, leaving each other to listen to each other’s breathing before the man is finally hit with the call ending.

He’s left holding on tightly to his phone, taking in the sound of autumn’s whipping air outside of his home. Tossing the phone behind him on the bed, Terry gets to his feet, determination shining his in his eyes while he begins to put his mind elsewhere opposed to holding onto you.

As you sat at the front desk, you snapped out of the dissociation that wanted to creep in, to place your phone on charge. Then grabbed onto some scissors returning back to the craft project you were working on to help decorate this level of the hospital for the holidays.

Snip!

જ⁀➴ ༄ જ⁀➴ ༄ જ⁀➴ ༄ જ⁀➴ ༄ જ⁀➴ ༄ જ

More autumn anthology prompts here.

[piftamere]

nine - keg stand (wc : 791 ; cw : vomit, drinking)

he abandoned her, even though she doesn’t know anyone, what a fucking jerk. she walks through the house, looking for him, or for a friendly face who’s not completely drunk.

nearing the kitchen to pour herself a drink, she hears yelling and cheers in the distance. she recognizes a name, one of her boyfriend’s teammates, who’s apparently doing a keg stand. she met them briefly earlier. they seemed more interested in the party and alcohol than in getting to know her, and the feeling was mutual.

she hears a loud crash and turns her head to look in it’s direction. the guy fell over, but he’s now back up, holding up his hands like he won a gold medal. as she’s focused on the blond guy’s stupid proud expression, someone bumps into her, spilling their cold, sticky drink all over her clothes. she curses and they shortly apologize before vanishing into the crowd. she smells like a fucking jager bomb now.

she looks around for a bathroom, giving up on her drink. she just wants to wash her dress and go home. she waits for half an hour in the bathroom line.

fucking frat party.

cleaning her dress takes her longer than she thought it would, impatient drunk college students bang on the door, urging her to hurry up. she takes a moment to look in the mirror, ignoring the line outside.

maybe she doesn’t have to leave, maybe she can still enjoy her night, with or without her boyfriend. her dress is wet and sticky but who cares. (she cares)

she takes a few deep breathes, ready to have a better end to her night. weaving through the crowd, she heads back to the kitchen where the music is significantly less loud. the windows are open and the cool air is a welcome addition. she overhears voices who appear to be coming from outside. her boyfriend’s teammates… they’re everywhere, some kind of curse she thinks.

she doesn’t pay much attention to their conversation, until she hears her name. though they’re slurring their words, she understands most of what they’re saying.

someone she can’t see says sheepishly, “yn seems kinda nice i don’ know…”

“tsumu”, who appears to be the guy doing a keg stand earlier, is talking loud, voice proud and arrogant.

“who cares, she's just a bitch he'll fuck for a few weeks then ditch like he always does.” he laughs as he says it, like it’s the greatest fucking joke ever.

“tsumu…” the other guy groans.

“what? it’s true! she’s hot, sure, but that’s all she is. i bet he’s already looking for the next one.” he continues laughing, and she stops listening.

her hands grip the counter, knuckles whitening. it would be so easy to put him in his place. he’s just a pathetic, drunk low-life. a few well-chosen words and he'd think twice about running his mouth again. but they get stuck on the knot in her throat.

fuck fuck fuck. why is it getting to her? she doesn’t know him, she never cared about assholes like him. so why can’t she get a fucking word out?

she’s frozen in place for a while, not sure how long. she feels stupid, embarrassed. no one else inside heard but all she wants to do is run away.

done with the night, she heads towards the front door, head hung low, without saying goodbye to her boyfriend or any of his “friends”. as she walks out, she sees someone leaning against the railing, actually he’s more slumped over it, as he most likely can’t stand on his own. she recognizes him and curses under her breath.

has he not ruined her night enough?

“leavin’ already?” he slurs over his words and lets out a hiccup, a drunken smile plastered over his face.

she ignores him.

“hey… did somethin’ happen?” a hint of concern can be heard in his tone, and it infuriates her. who does this egotistical dick think he is, pitying her?

she turns to face him, ready to take her anger and frustration out on him. he deserves it. hell, she deserves it. he won’t remember it tomorrow morning anyway. as she’s about to tear him a new one, she stops, seeing the weird expression on his face. her brows furrow as she tries to figure out what it means, but she understands a little too late. he leans forward, placing his hand on her shoulder to steady himself... before puking at her feet, covering her shoes in the process.

she abruptly pushes him off her. he hits the railing hard, mumbling what appears to be barely audible apologies.

she throws her shoes in the nearest trash can, and walks home barefoot.

fucking jocks.

fun facts

this is a flashback to when atsumu and yn met (their meet ugly)

this night is what hinata meant when he said atsumu owes him : he brought him back to their place, helped him clean up the vomit and didn’t tell anyone that he threw up all over himself

atsumu has almost no memories of the night, he knows he puked over someone or something, but that's basically it.

the guy speaking with atsumu about yn was bokuto, he forgot most of the night as well

yn can hold a grudge forever

author's note

i would be mad forever too just for the puking thing

i had this part sitting in the drafts for so long i'm so happy to finally post it

play dumb! - next

taglist : open!

@alpha-mommy69 @bakugouswh0r3 @giocriedpower @itsdragonius @haechansbbg @wondipity @iaminyourfloors @na0koz @from-mae @eusaevi @kr1nqu @writing-for-the-hell-of-it @thechaosoflonging @littlemiyastars @seikamuzu @nymphsdomain @r4veeen

if you're name is crossed out i couldn't tag you, if it's not fixed in a week i'll remove you sorry :(

[docdudo]

Hi!! I want to start by saying I absolutely love your writing! It’s great writing and is pretty good for me to understand (English isn’t my first language).

I just wanted to ask, How do you think poly hybrid 141 would react to adopted reader getting sick?? And I mean really sick, like a good case of the flu that takes a whole week, like 7 days and antibiotics to go away??

I could see them being so worried and stressed, taking her to doctors and everything because they get better in 24-48 hours with their fancy strong immune systems! I also wonder if adopted reader would be confused by going to the doctors, because if anything happend while in previous foster homes, she was told to just figure it out and get better on her own.

You are right about one thing: hybrids have a better immune system than humans do!

Humans are considered weak and frail in every sense of the word. That includes their health. In fact, a human's health is so discussed that specialists from other races all study the human body constantly so they would be able to treat one, would they ever needed it.

(Because of the lack of total humans on this universe, it's rare to find a human doctor, for example. So, other races have to cover for them in a lot of different fields. There are programs and organizations in this world that entierelly foucused on making sure the few humans that exist would get the care they need. So, for example, if you are a doctor and also specialize on taking care of humans beside some other race, you would probably be paid more by the governement).

Now, little reader getting sick? Like, really sick? Yeah, that house is turning upside down. As hybrids, the whole 141 pride themselves on being good caretakers and providers. They also know how much more frail humans are compared to them.

But know is different from experiencing.

Little reader would start off with the typical signs of the flu. Stuffy nose, throat a bit sore, a sluggish body. All that. But, as we all know, it's very quick for sickness to develop. And in the spam of a night, little reader is waking up with a high fever and a weak, useless body.

The 141 would notice almost immediatly. They can smell how sick you are, even from your room. That weird, almost sour smell that we can usually smell when we blow our nose.

Before you know it, you would probably be in Price's or Soap's arms, surronded by their warmth, hearing their cooed words that make zero to almost no sense to your sick and hazy mind.

And at first, they are very much panicking. They are calling the rest of their pack while cooing and conforting you, Laswell being the one to tell them to immediatly take you to the doctor.

And they do, everyone going on the car together, because if one of them had anything to do that day, it's immediatly getting canceled. They would still hold you close, on their laps, and every single one of them are cooing quietly at you. Even Ghost. Tho his "cooing" sounds more like his normal voice, just extra quiet and gentler than usual.

And it's true, you're not that used to going to the doctor. You usually never get that sick, and as a foster kid, it just doesn't happen often.

But, you were feeling pretty hazy, mind clouded and feverish. You barely remember going that first time to the doctor with them.

You barely remember the kind doctor that was trying his best to easy your foster parents' worries, and all the examination he did on you, even if you couldnt cooperate much with how confused you were.

You certainly got treated at the hospital and monitored until your fever came down a bit. After that, they send you back home with your parents, who had gotten a lot of new instructions and medicines to properly take care of you at home.

You took almost a full week to finally start getting better.

They would't let you sleep in your room anymore, since you got sick, you had been sleeping on their shared nest, with them. They would constantly check on your breathing and heartbeats, and would even feed you themselves and make sure you were plenty hydrated.

And even after you got better, they would still be extra careful and overbearing for a little while longer.

You can be sure that they would be taking extra measures now so that you never get sick again.

[jezabelle9299]

I don't know S.R x FEM! Reader

Overture-Spencer knows you're hungry, but you won't just tell him what you want.

CWs- Feeling like an inconvenience

A/N-Based on a true story (Me). Also very short, but I'm attempting to catch up because we are well into November at this point.

Spencer had learned a lot of things about you over the course of your short relationship. He knew how you liked your coffee, your favorite movies, every line from every book you’d ever recommended to him– but all of that pales in comparison to the hardest thing for him to figure out from you. Nearly every time he asked you something and you said ‘I don’t know’, the answer was yes– but you didn’t want to feel like an inconvenience. 

Whether it was something as simple as him getting you something from the kitchen, or even when he took you to the amusement park and he asked if you wanted to go on your favorite ride— the one that always had a particularly long line. You’d shrink down, and mumble a quick noncommittal response. 

And now you’d been laying on his couch for almost four hours watching an exceedingly long foreign film— without complaint, something he is endlessly grateful for— and your stomach quite literally just growled. Meaning you’d been hungry for a while, and continuously stayed silent. And to top it all off when the noise finally stopped you looked down at your own stomach as if it betrayed you. 

“Are you hungry?” He said gently, looking down at you where your face laid against his side. 

“I don’t know.” And you pushed your head further into the blanket laying over the top of you, trying to physically shrink yourself down. 

“It’s ok if you are, you know that right?”

“I know.” But you still didn’t answer his question. 

“So are you hungry?”

“Umm…” Executive decisions had to be made on Spencer’s part. 

“Alright, I'm ordering food for you. Do you have any preferences?”

“You don’t have to do that–”

“But I’d like it if you didn’t starve on my couch, because I have gotten attached to you. So– preferences?” It was said in a way that was only genuine, but you still couldn’t get your brain over the hurdle of being a perceived inconvenience. 

“I don’t know–”

“Is Italian ok?”

“Don’t you want anything?” He didn’t usually want Italian, and it was always the first thing he suggested if he wasn’t hungry— purely for your benefit. 

“Sure I’ll get something, but what do you want?”

“Well–umm” You couldn't figure out what the problem was now. You knew he wouldn't think you were an inconvenience no matter what you got, but you couldn't quite get your brain going again.

“Would you like me to just get you what you got last time?”

“Please?”

“Of course.” He gave you a small kiss on the forehead, and turned the movie back on.

[milk-tea-sakura]

Heyyyyyyy! Can I order a Belgian waffel with a melon soda and skz bangchan plzzzz. Make it super spicy. Thanks beforehand❤❤❤

༄˖°.🍂.ೃ࿔*:･༄˖°.🍂.ೃ࿔*:･

𝓒𝔀: 𝓕𝓮𝓶! 𝓡𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓮𝓻, 𝓙𝓮𝓪𝓵𝓸𝓾𝓼𝔂, 𝓚𝓲𝓷𝓭𝓪 𝓱𝓸𝓶𝓮𝔀𝓻𝓮𝓬𝓴𝓮𝓻!𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓷, 𝓴𝓲𝓼𝓼𝓲𝓷𝓰, 𝓬𝓸𝓷𝓯𝓮𝓼𝓼𝓲𝓷𝓰, 𝓐𝓷𝓰𝓼𝓽𝔂

𝓦𝓸𝓻𝓭 𝓬𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓽: 2,438

𝓔𝓼𝓽𝓲𝓶𝓪𝓽𝓮𝓭 𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓽𝓲𝓶𝓮: 9 𝓶𝓲𝓷 37 𝓼𝓮𝓬

Belgian Waffel- "I've been waiting for that kiss since the moment I laid eyes on you." Melon soda- Jealousy

𝘐 𝘮𝘢𝘥𝘦 𝘪𝘵 𝘢 𝘴𝘱𝘪𝘤𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘴𝘵𝘺 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘺, 𝘴𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘺 𝘪𝘵'𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘦𝘹𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘺 𝘪𝘵 𝘵𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘴𝘰 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨.

༄˖°.🍂.ೃ࿔*:･༄˖°.🍂.ೃ࿔*:･

Y/n and Bangchan are sitting on a park bench in a semi-public space, chatting and laughing...

Bangchan couldn't help but stare at Y/n as she leaned back against the bench, her laughter filling the air.

Her eyes sparkled as she spoke, and her smile was infectious. Bangchan found himself smiling too, despite his attempts to remain aloof and detached. It drove him crazy how easily she could light up his world with her presence alone.

But every time he saw her with her boyfriend, his jealousy flared up like an uncontrollable fire. He couldn't stand how her boyfriend looked at her, all possessive and smug, like she was his property.

Bangchan knew Y/n deserved better, but she couldn't see it. She was too blinded by her love for her boyfriend to see how he really treated her. Bangchan clenched his fists, his knuckles turning white with suppressed anger.

As they continued to chat, Bangchan found his eyes drawn to Y/n's lips. His fingers twitched with the urge to reach out and touch her, to feel the softness of her skin against his. But he held himself back, reminding himself that she was off-limits.

Y/n continued to talk, completely oblivious to Bangchan's inner struggle. She had no idea that the man sitting next to her was desperately struggling to hold back his feelings for her, fighting the urge to confess his true emotions.

As they sat there, the sun began to set, casting a warm golden glow over the park. Bangchan watched as the light played across Y/n's face, highlighting her features and making her even more beautiful than usual.

The urge to kiss her grew stronger and stronger, but Bangchan knew he couldn't do it. He wasn't the kind of guy to interfere in someone else's relationship, even if it was tearing him apart inside.

Yet, he couldn't help wondering what it would be like to feel her lips on his. To taste the sweetness of her mouth and feel the heat of her body pressed against his.

The silence between them grew heavier with each passing moment, the air thick with unspoken words and unresolved tension. Bangchan could feel his pulse racing, his heart pounding in his chest.

Y/n's smile faded slightly as she seemed to sense something in Bangchan's gaze. She turned to look at him, her eyes searching his face for some clue as to what he was thinking. "Is something wrong?" she asked, her voice soft.

Bangchan shook his head quickly, trying to compose himself. "No, nothing's wrong," he said, forcing a smile. "Just zoned out for a minute there."

Y/n looked at him skeptically, her nose scrunching up in that adorable way it always did when she didn't believe him. "Are you sure about that?" she pressed, leaning a little closer. "You look a bit...tense."

Bangchan swallowed hard, his gaze flickering to her lips for a brief moment before he looked away. "I'm fine, really," he insisted, his voice strained. "Just a bit tired, that's all."

Y/n didn't look convinced, but she didn't press the issue further. "Well, you know you can come to me if something's bothering you," she said gently, placing a hand on his arm.

The touch of her hand sent a shiver down Bangchan's spine, but he forced himself to ignore it. "I know," he said gruffly, his voice betraying a hint of vulnerability.

They sat in silence for a few more moments, the air between them thick with tension. Bangchan could feel Y/n's gaze on him, but he kept his own gaze fixed on the ground, unable to look at her without wanting to throw caution to the wind and pull her into his arms.

The urge to confess everything was almost overwhelming, but Bangchan resisted. He didn't want to ruin their friendship, and he didn't want to see the look of confusion and disappointment on Y/n's face if she didn't feel the same way.

Y/n seemed to sense his inner turmoil, and she scooted a little closer, leaning her head against his shoulder. "You know I care about you, right?" she said softly, her voice filled with affection.

Bangchan's heart skipped a beat at her words, and he ached to turn and wrap his arms around her, to tell her how much he cared for her too. But he couldn't bring himself to speak, afraid of what he might say if he opened his mouth.

Y/n waited for a moment, but when Bangchan didn't respond, she sat up straight and looked at him, her eyes filled with concern. "Chris," she said gently, reaching out to touch his chin. "Look at me."

Bangchan's heart raced as he slowly lifted his gaze to meet hers. Her beautiful eyes were filled with worry and something else he couldn't quite place.

Y/n's thumb gently traced the line of his jaw, her touch sending sparks of electricity through his body. "I can tell something's bothering you," she said softly, her voice filled with warmth. "You can talk to me, you know."

Bangchan's resolve was crumbling with every word that came out of her mouth. He wanted to tell her everything, to pour his heart out and pray that she would feel the same way. But he was a coward, and the fear of rejection was holding him back.

Y/n saw the conflict in his eyes, and she moved her hand to cup his cheek, her touch tender and loving. "Please, Chris," she whispered, her eyes filled with concern. "Talk to me."

Bangchan couldn't hold it in any longer. The words he'd been holding back for so long bubbled up to the surface, spilling out like a dam breaking. "I... I need to tell you something," he said, his voice cracking.

Y/n's eyes widened at the sound of his voice, and she leaned in a little closer, her hand still on his cheek. "What is it?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Bangchan took a deep breath, his heart thudding in his chest. "I... I've been holding this in for so long," he said, his voice trembling. "I can't keep it in anymore. I have to tell you... I have feelings for you. Strong, intense feelings that I've been struggling to ignore for months now."

Y/n's eyes widened in surprise, but there was something else there too - a glimmering of hope, mixed in with the surprise. "You... you have feelings for me?" she repeated, her voice shaking.

Bangchan nodded, his heart clenching painfully in his chest. "Yes," he said hoarsely. "I've been trying to fight it for so long, but I can't deny it anymore. I'm in love with you, Y/n. I have been for a long time."

Y/n was speechless for a moment, her expression a mix of surprise, disbelief, and something else Bangchan couldn't quite place. She stared at him, her eyes searching his face for any hint of a lie or deception, but all she found was raw, unfiltered truth.

Finally, she spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. "Bangchan... are you serious? Are you really in love with me?"

Bangchan nodded, his heart aching. "Yes," he said firmly, his voice cracking with emotion. "I'm completely serious. I'm in love with you, with everything that I am. I've been trying to ignore it, to push it down and pretend it wasn't there, but I can't anymore. I need you to know how I feel."

Y/n's eyes widened further, and her hand moved from his cheek to his chest, directly over his heart. She could feel the rapid beating, the erratic rhythm that betrayed his emotions.

"Chan... You know I'm in a relationship..."

Bangchan's heart crumbled at her words, but he tried to hide it from his face. "I know," he said, his voice cracking. "I know you're with someone else, but I can't help how I feel. I can't pretend I don't have these feelings for you.”

Y/n's hand remained on his chest, her touch sending sparks of electricity through his body. She looked at him with a mixture of confusion and sadness, her eyes locked on his. "Chan... I don't know what to say. This is all so sudden..."

Bangchan could feel the tears welling up in his eyes, but he forced them back. He didn't want to show weakness in front of her. "I know it's sudden," he said, his voice rough. "But it's not sudden for me. I've been feeling this way for a long time. I just couldn't bring myself to tell you until now."

Y/n's expression softened, and her hand squeezed his chest lightly. "Why didn't you tell me before? Why have you been keeping this to yourself all this time?"

Bangchan let out a shaky breath, his chest tightening with pain. "I was scared," he admitted, his voice cracking. "I was scared of ruining our friendship, of making things awkward between us. I didn't know how you'd react, and I didn't want to lose you as a friend."

Y/n's gaze softened further at his words, and her hand moved up to his shoulder, her touch soothing. "Chan... You won't lose me as a friend, no matter what. I value our friendship too much to let something like this come between us."

Bangchan felt a small flicker of hope ignite in his chest at her words, but it was quickly extinguished by the reality of the situation. "But what about your boyfriend? Where does that leave us?"

Y/n's expression grew troubled at the mention of her boyfriend, and she looked away for a moment before meeting Bangchan's gaze again. "I don't know," she admitted. "I'm in a committed relationship. I can't just abandon that because you've confessed your feelings to me..."

Bangchan felt like his heart was being torn in two at her words. He knew it was unreasonable for him to expect her to drop everything for him, but that didn't make the pain any less intense. "I know," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I know it's not fair of me to ask you to choose me over him. But I can't help how I feel..."

Y/n's hand squeezed his shoulder again, the gesture meant to be reassuring, but it only made things worse. "I know you can't help how you feel, and I don't blame you for that. But I need some time to process all this, to think about what I want..."

Bangchan nodded, but the gesture felt like a knife to the heart. "I understand," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "Just... don't shut me out, okay? Please?"

Y/n's expression softened at his pleading tone, and her grip on his shoulder tightened. "I won't," she promised, her voice soft. "I won't shut you out. I just need some time to think, okay?"

Bangchan nodded again, his throat tightening with the effort to hold back tears. "Okay," he said, his voice cracking. "Take all the time you need. I'll be here, waiting for you."

Bangchan stood in silence, his heart heavy with disappointment and heartbreak. He knew he'd just dropped a bombshell on Y/n, and he couldn't blame her for her need for time and space to think things through.

But the thought of waiting, of not knowing where he stood with her, was torture. He'd bared his soul to her, laid his heart out in the open, and the uncertainty of her response was killing him.

Y/n looked at him for a few more moments, her expression torn between sympathy and uncertainty. She wanted to say something, anything to ease the tension, but she didn't know where to begin.

"I've always loved you too, honestly I have, and I tried dating my boyfriend to get over you because I didn't think you felt the same way."

Bangchan's heart nearly stopped at her words. He'd been prepared for rejection, for the possibility that she might not feel the same way he did, but this? This was something he hadn't expected.

He stared at her in disbelief, his mind racing a mile a minute. Had he heard her correctly? Had she just confessed that she'd had feelings for him all along?

His eyes widened in surprise, and he stared at her, trying to process what she'd just said. "You... loved me?" he asked hoarsely, not quite able to believe his ears. "All this time?"

Y/n nodded, her expression remorseful. "Yeah," she said softly. "I've been in love with you for a long time. But I thought you just saw me as a friend, so I tried dating someone else to get over you."

Bangchan felt like his world had been turned upside down. All this time, she'd felt the same way he had, but she'd kept it bottled up inside. The realization was both exhilarating and heartbreaking.

"But like I said, I can't just break things off with my boyfriend. I need time to talk things through with him."

Bangchan's heart ached at her words, but he nodded in understanding. "I get it," he said hoarsely, his voice tight with suppressed emotion. "I don't expect you to just drop everything for me. I just... I needed you to know how I feel."

Y/n reached out and took his hand, her touch gentle and comforting. "I'm glad you told me," she said, her voice filled with a mixture of emotions. "And I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner."

In the midst of their confessions and emotions, Y/n moved closer to Bangchan, her hands moving to cup his face. Without a word, she leaned in and captured his lips in a soft, gentle kiss.

"I do plan to be with you, I just need a little time."

Bangchan melted into the kiss, his arms instinctively wrapping around her waist and pulling her closer. The feeling of her lips on his was unlike anything he'd ever experienced before, and it sent a wave of longing and desire coursing through his body.

When she finally pulled back, he looked into her eyes, his own filled with a mix of love and hope. "I'll wait as long as it takes," he said quietly, his voice tight with emotion.

"And I've been waiting for that kiss since the moment I laid eyes on you," Bangchan says.

Y/n laughs softly, leaning her forehead against his. "Likewise," she says, her voice trembling with emotion. "I've been wanting to kiss you for years, but I never thought you'd feel the same way."

[sordidmusings]

WIP TUESDAY - Sugar Daddy Headcanons with Shanks and Garp

Saw Schoute's wonderful art WIP and writing and wanted to join the fun! Have some ridiculous Blorbos as Sugar Daddies headcanons that have been on my backburner LOL I've got Shanks and Garp ready for y'all 🫡 They're pretty much done, I moreso have to fill out everyone else on the list 🤡 No warnings really! Just some allusions to spice but nothing explicit. Lots of silliness. I believe they're gender neutral but I'm going to tag as afab just in case because I fear it may be in the subtext since that's the perspective I wrote it from and the one people generally expect for sugar babies. Might be fun to subvert sometime by writing them with explicitly amab sugar babies. I will Ponder lol I'd also love to see what everyone is working on so please take this as a sign to post something of your own!!

The song I blame for everything (I love u Thot Squad):

“This fine old man, he played three

He can knickknack this coochie

With an Amex black card, get a girl a Benz

Reset and do it again”

Word Count: Shanks ~750, Garp ~400 (sorry about the favoritism Vice Admiral 😬)

Shanks

shanks absolutely pursued this type of relationship with you

Your pretty face and open smile snagged his attention but the way you easily met and fed his energy had him at you like a dog with a bone

He’s no stranger to helping people laugh their way into his bed, but the journey with you felt different. He took extra time simply because each moment with you was too good to keep from savoring

You didn’t hide your attraction at any point but he did appreciate that you would try and prod back at him in good humor to test his will and want

You found he had both in excessive abundance

It felt nice to have someone so attractive, established, feared, and adored seek your company and watch him become more interested with each minute he got of you. It also felt nice to see that while he certainly had an abundance of confidence he held no arrogance with you - he played no games in making you question his interest or assert his importance to you. He treated you as a person (one he mainly wanted to turn to his bedroom tenant but still-) and it made him feel more like a man than a myth for you both too

And holy hell did you like that man - he made you laugh even if at his own expense, he impressed you when he’d let some of his cunning slip through the jovial pirate shtick, he kept your interest with how he could entertain any topic you brought forward, he made you feel beautiful with the way his eyes and hands soaked you in, and he made you feel wanted with the way he treated everything about you with genuine interest. 

The only thing that made it better is how he made sure you wanted for nothing. The first night it was making sure you didn’t pay a cent for anything, you always had food and drink right before you realized you wanted it, his coat found your shoulders the moment you felt a chill, you found yourself in fresh air right when the heat and the noise of the bar became too much. 

After that it was an endless stream of trinkets, from priceless to silly but sentimental, all coming with letters that had you laughing, blushing, and swooning.

Every time he’d visit you (and it was at first as often as he thought he could manage but that managed to get even sooner and sooner because of his need for you) you’d indulge in each other like it was the first and last time

He stopped wanting anyone else - there were enough people across the seas he had to apologize to after explaining why he’d gasped the wrong name and they were never right to scratch the new insatiable itch he had anyway

When it dawned on him how much you had him wrapped around your finger, not just physically and financially but also mentally, emotionally, and he’s pretty sure even spiritually, he may have had a crisis (the crew was very torn between amusement and true wory watching it unfold, especially when the usual rum and patented Beckman Shoulder Pat with Nod didn't ease his turmoil)

It wasn't because he didn’t want to love you, but he truly never thought he’d ever find someone he wanted and needed the way he does you. It was such a foreign concept to him that he felt like the world had tilted and left everything slightly unfamiliar. Especially coming from a relationship he stapled together with riches. Sure, there was also joy, camaraderie, and intimacy holding it together, but he found it harder to trust that someone such as you wouldn't find someone younger and more present to belong to than to trust that you could need him to sustain a lifestyle of ease and abundance.

If he couldn't be sure you'd want him, he'd try and find solace in you needing him, even if it was only for what he could afford you

When he finally told Beckman of his plight, he was slightly offended by the “it took you this long to figure it out?”

He’s currently trying to figure out how to convince you to live on his ship with him. He needed to let you know you’d be safe regardless of your experience level with the seas or battle. 

He’d bring the world to its knees if anything touched a hair on your head

Luckily for him, you knew. Anyone with eyes would from the way he smiles at you.

Garp

Garp was decidedly not in your plans. Yes, you wanted someone older, someone with wealth, someone with influence, someone who would take care of you, but you thought Gilfs were an urban legend told to see what face it would get out of freshies

You’re not complaining tho

He has certainly convinced you that the rarity of his kind just pointed to what a prized role it was to shack up with one

He was rough around the edges to be sure - brash and loud and stubborn - but he used all those traits to get you both exactly what you wanted

All your needs were met without you having to even think of them anymore (you were surprised that needs in the bedroom were included in that, but you supposed you shouldn’t have underestimated a man who could still punch apart battle ships, nor one with such a lust for eating)

Neither of you had any illusions of sweeping romance

You were more than happy with the care and respect that built between the two of you in your roles, growing with each act of service to each other, each piece of comfort, each unintended moment of vulnerability

Don’t get me wrong, the vulnerability ain’t common; most of your time is this man having fun watching you light up when he took you out and tossed his money around for you before taking you home to have multiple courses of dessert

You’ll never get over his gruff voice and curling accent - they helped your brain turn to mush while he coaxed and praised you through happily giving him everything he wants as a thank you for all his care

That voice along with all that burliness and age, which you thought would’ve been a turn off not on, ended up making you feel small yet so protected

Garp didn’t think he’d enter a relationship like this that went on so long and so easily but any reservation or second guessing was lost the moment he saw you and everything just felt natural

Tho he’d still make jokes that always make you groan about how you keep him young better than his troublesome recruits (that he is stuck between wanting to parade you around to see their jaws drop and wanting to keep you hidden away from any young bucks who may try to get your attention before he’s ready to let you go)

Thank you for reading 😘🤍🤍

Masterlist

[i-dont-talk-for-days-on-end]

Sooooo, I cannot believe this was one year ago! What surprises me less is that I am still here gushing over Jeremy Brett. I am also still sad I can't actually write him a letter, but although it made me feel silly to write a fan letter to a dead man last year, it was also lovely to see that there are people in this community who appreciated it and felt similar. So, if I know writing this cannot connect me in any way to Jeremy himself, it makes me happy to know it connects me to you. :)

Dear Mr Brett, most likely you do not remember that I have written to you one year ago, but if you do, maybe it pleases you to know that I have since watched much more of your work (not only Sherlock Holmes). If that has changed anything, I now admire your work and - dare I say it - you even more. But most of all I want to tell you: I deepened one and found another true friendhip since I last wrote because your portrayal of Sherlock Holmes is so rich and nuanced. It turns out you can talk about it daily to someone for more than a year, and this is a wonderful basis for a more personal relationship! (Well, let me be honest: Much of that bonding took place over proving that you are more handsome than Gene Kelly. We succeeded, of course. Why do you even ask?) I marvel about this a lot: You and I could never even have met, and now you helped me making friends (talking until 3 am, and maybe even going to Italy!). Time is a strange thing. If you move us 30 years after we could have met, why not thank you 30 years later, too? And I am moved. My own situation made it necessary to reflect a lot about love and friendship in the past year. I know you did not like Sherlock Holmes for a long time, but your portrayal helped me a lot to figure some things out for myself. Ironically, it is Holmes who helps me feel less lonely and less scared ... stories of a great friendship indeed. It gives me strength. I also appreciate roses a lot more since I think about "your" Holmes nearly constantly, and I have never before noticed how many of them actually are around (even in November!). It is a simple exercise, but now, every time I see one, I am reminded there is beauty, and hope. Most likely, you would not want to take credit for any of this. But I do not think it is as easy as this, since I know several people who feel similar. You keep inspiring us - to find some hope, and courage, and companionship. If this makes only a little difference for a few of us, I think this amounts to a huge difference over all. For your 91st birthday, I have nothing else to offer than my sincerest gratitude and admiration, and my best wishes, Artemis Ps: Yes, this letter was properly sentimental and a bit silly, but I trust you appreciate a little whimsy. Pps: Everyone agrees that it is a crime your singing was dubbed in My Fair Lady! Ppps: Please know I would sell my soul to see you on stage (and I am afraid this is also the only way I might ever be able to do so). Pppps: I am sure you receive tons of fan mail (as you should!), so you probably did not get around to sending me a signed photograph last year. I do not expect that you have more time this year; however, I would be a fool not to try again! I would be thrilled and so so thankful (and seriously doubt my sanity) if you would send me one this year.

I think a lot about that one anecdote about Jeremy - the one where he wrote himself fan mail. I obviously didn't know him, but for me, this story encompasses many of the character traits I think he possessed: a delightful eccentricity, humour, a perfectionism that was both a blessing and a curse, a little vanity perhaps, and an underlying sadness.

I think and talk/write a lot about him and Granada Holmes, and while I am sometimes glad I don't belong to those people who have to worry that their idol goes online and sees all the unhinged things written about them, it also makes me sad that none of us has the chance to write him any actual fan mail. I get the impression that he was the kind of person who would be very flattered to receive fan mail for his 90th birthday! So I decided to do just that! It's very embarrassing and sappy and probably mad - but here we go!

Dear Mr. Brett, since you would turn 90 today, I think you would love to learn just how much your portrayal of Sherlock Holmes still means to so many people (including me) today - decades after you worked so hard to gift us the best possible version of Holmes! I greatly admire and love the depth you gave to the character, and no less your own strength, kindness, and determination. I was born too late to ever have the chance to tell you, but you and your work make me a little happier every day and I am so very grateful for that. You truly played the best Holmes there ever was, and maybe the best one there ever will be. I wish there was a thing I could write to give you back some of the joy you give me daily. Happy birthday! Sincerely yours, a Tumblr user who now feels extremely embarrassed but nevertheless meant every word she wrote Ps: Please do send me a signed photograph, I can guarantee you I will faint if I find it in my mailbox. Pps: I agree that you are prettier than Rathbone, Wilmer, and Stephens!

[valkyyriia]

Day 11: Reflections in the Waves (of Pleasure)

Kinktober 2024 Prompt List | Kinktober 2024 Masterlist

Words: 1947 CW: Mirror Sex, PiV, Creampie, Unprotected Sex, Long-Suffering Sebastian, Voyeurism Pairing: Comte de Saint-Germain x Reader Prompt(s): Mirror Sex | Oral

Notes: The urge to have Sebastian call himself ‘one hell of a butler’ was strong but I did resist. Not enough to keep it out of the notes, though…

NEW: Want to be tagged when I post new fics? Submit the form here!

“The mirror you requested has finally arrived, Monsieur le Comte,” Sebastian said when he entered the room, delivering the day’s mail to the vampire noble as he normally did. “Masters Napoleon and Leonardo helped me bring it upstairs to le Mademoiselle’s room.”

Comte smiled, pleased. “Thank you, as always, Sebastian,” he replied. “I always appreciate your hard work. I’m sure it was heavy.”

Sebastian bowed and left the room, promising to bring up tea shortly. “There’s no need,” Comte said, standing up and shrugging on his long overcoat. “I’ve a few things to do before she gets home, so I’d hate for it to go to waste.”

For the first time this month, you were actually doing your job. You had left with Isaac earlier this morning to do the shopping. Conveniently, the mirror had come in not long after you left, so it was still a surprise.

Comte immediately made his way to your room, pushing open the door to inspect the craftmanship. Normally he’d show a bit more decorum; Comte was a gentleman, truly, and would not deign to enter a woman’s room without knocking first. However, he needed to make sure the piece was up to his lofty standards before you got home to see it.

A few weeks ago, you had made an offhand comment to le Comte about not having a mirror quite long enough to be able to see your shoes with your dress unless you were standing far away, and even then you could barely see due to the distance. Comte’s eyes widened incredulously. How had he not considered that would be an issue? This was a travesty!

Thus, in true Comte de Saint-Germain fashion, he had immediately contacted a metalsmith and commissioned a large, gilded mirror. The thing was truly a work of art; it was nearly large enough to cover an entire wall, and richly decorated in golden filigree and gemstones. The metalsmiths had outdone themselves. The mirror was so grand in its design, it frankly wouldn’t be out of place amongst the treasures of Versailles.

He hoped you would be pleased when you saw it.

Smiling to himself, Comte went to call a carriage. He would meet you in town, treat you to a nice lunch, and bring you home to show you the gift he had gotten you. Maybe he would buy you a few new dresses, too. He had an excuse this time, after all; you needed to try out your new mirror.

Oh, he simply couldn’t wait.

You and Isaac had just finished up the grocery shopping when you heard a familiar tenor call your name from behind.

“Comte?” You asked, turning around, startled. Your eyes were wide, but the smile that broke out across your face was wider when you saw him.

“I thought I would surprise my lovely partner by meeting her in town,” Comte said, walking over to you and kissing your hand in greeting. “It’s good to see you as well, Isaac,” Comte added, turning his smile to the other vampire. “I was going to ask if you’d like to join us for lunch?”

Isaac, true to himself, blushed something fierce. “I thank you, for the offer, but I’ll bring the shopping home. You two have fun.” Before you could so much as protest, the physicist had taken your bags and flagged down a carriage.

You watched him go, feeling somewhat guilty. The guilt was replaced with giddy happiness when Comte tucked your hand into the crook of his elbow. “Allow me to treat you today, ma chérie.”

You finally returned to the mansion a few hours later as the sun was just beginning to set over the woodline. You were somewhat proud of yourself; you had managed to talk Comte down to just four new dresses instead of the ten he had wanted to buy. You had a sneaking suspicion that the vampire had gone ahead and purchased the other six anyway, to be delivered later on, but you would take the small victories when they came.

Comte, ever the gentleman, refused to let you carry a single thing. “What kind of partner would I be if I made you carry the gifts I purchased for you? I’ll not hear a word of it, chérie.”

The guilt you felt before resurfaced when you entered the mansion’s foyer and saw Sebastian dusting the wall sconces.

“Welcome home, Monsieur le Comte, Madame le Comte,” Sebas greeted, adding emphasis to your own name. Your cheeks flushed in a mixture of embarrassment and indignation, the guilt replaced with irritation. Comte chuckled at your side and moved a hand to the small of your back to guide you up the stairs.

“Thank you, Sebas,” Comte said over his shoulder. “We’ll be down for dinner later this evening.”

“Yes, I’m sure you will,” Sebas muttered under his breath. If le Comte heard him, he made no indication of it.

When you had made it to the residential hallway and stopped in front of your door, you knew something was up. Usually, you would join le Comte in his own chambers for the evening since his suite was far more spacious. The only true downside was the way Leonardo would sometimes barge in, though the Italian polymath had taken to knocking before entering as of late.

You briefly wondered why.

Before you could go further down that line of thought, you shook your head. “Abel,” you addressed your partner. “What did you do?”

Le Comte smiled elusively. “Whatever do you mean, ‘what did I do’? I’m afraid you’ll need to be more specific, chérie.”

You rolled your eyes. “You met me in town. Took me to lunch. Bought me more dresses. Let me win an argument over how many dresses you were allowed to buy me.” You raised an eyebrow. “And now we’re back at my room. You never bring me back to my own room unless you’ve plotted something.”

“Don’t I?” Comte asked innocently. “Can’t I spoil my darling partner with a spontaneous date just because I felt like it?”

“You can,” You conceded. “But you don’t.”

Comte just laughed, gesturing to your door. You eyed him suspiciously but obeyed him anyway, opening the door. Immediately, your eyes widened and your jaw dropped. “You didn’t,” you accused, turning back to him. “Really?” You asked.

Comte followed you inside and shut the door behind him, locking it. “You said you couldn’t see your shoes in the other one. That, mon amour, was inexcusable.”

You just shook your head. Two of Comte’s favorite things were spoiling you and fashion. He particularly enjoyed spoiling you with fashion. You supposed you weren’t really surprised that this was something he viewed necessary. You sighed and conceded.

“Thank you, Abel,” you smiled. “It’s beautiful. I suppose this is why you insisted on the dresses?”

“And also why I agreed to only four,” Comte added, pulling you to him for a peck on the lips. “I feared ten would have been far too obvious.”

You rolled your eyes good-naturedly and leaned in for another kiss, which Comte was all too happy to give. The kisses quickly grew hotter and heavier. You parted your lips and Comte eagerly teased your tongue with his, his hands moving to your hips and pulling you closer. He squeezed your ass and you gasped into his mouth.

Your eyes lazily drifted open and you caught a glimpse of your reflection in the mirror. You flushed and pulled away from Comte, your palms flat on his chest. He looked down at you curiously.

You cleared your throat awkwardly before whispering, “the mirror.”

Comte raised an eyebrow.

“I can see us,” you grumbled. He chuckled lowly, sending heat pooling in your belly.

“I hadn’t purchased this mirror with quite that intention in mind, but,” he smiled deviously. “That’s another good use for it.”

Ten minutes later found Comte seated in your desk chair, his front to your back, buried to the hilt inside of you. He had his arms under your knees and was lifting you up and down on his cock. He had spread your legs wide, leaving your cunt on full display in the wall-sized mirror. You bit your lip as he moved you, his length gliding smoothly in and out of your body.

“Look at yourself, chérie. See how beautiful you are when you’re taking my cock?”

Your original hesitance was long gone; instead, your eyes were fixated on the lewd sight of him disappearing within your entrance. Comte’s cock glistened in the candlelight, your slick coating him thoroughly as he sunk deep inside you with each movement.

Your eyes briefly flickered up to the reflection of his face. Comte smiled coyly at you as you did so; the vampire was far more interested in watching your face as you took him, your eyes glazed over in lust and your mouth falling open in pleasure.

His lips drifted to the sensitive flesh underneath your ear and he kissed there. You shuddered, your legs involuntarily falling wider as he did so. Comte chuckled, his breath ghosting over the lobe of your ear. He took the lobe between his blunted teeth, careful to avoid breaking the skin with his fangs. Comte nibbled there before dragging his lips down the side of your neck, his fangs barely grazing the flesh.

You cried out in pleasure as the vampire latched onto your skin, sucking harshly on the flesh there without piercing it. An orgasm ripped through your body like the incoming tide as he slammed you harshly down on his cock. Your eyes focused on where your bodies were joined as he too met his climax, his groan resonating against your skin. You watched as your cunt pulsated, drawing twitch after twitch from Comte’s length. Each pulse of his cock resulted in a flood of warmth deep inside you. He drove himself somehow deeper with a grunt, his sweaty forehead falling against the juncture of your neck and shoulder.

After what felt like an eternity, Comte pressed a kiss to your shoulder and slipped from within you. What followed was a trickle of fluid, a mixture of his own come and your slick, dripping out of you and onto his softening cock. You inhaled sharply.

Comte laughed breathlessly, slowly lowering your legs. “I think we found something new you like, non, ma chérie?”

“Fermez-la,” you snapped at him petulantly.

His laugh just grew louder.

Sebastian knew better. He truly did.

Rather than prepare a full meal, the butler resigned himself to his fate. Steeling himself, he prepared a few cold cut sandwiches and placed them alongside a bottle of Rouge on a silver serving tray. Carrying them upstairs, he repeated his mantra in his head.

All he had to do was leave it outside the door. He didn’t have to see them. He didn’t have to hear them.

He hoped.

He breathed in deeply. He can do this.

He was a fantastic butler. So what if his employer was sleeping with his coworker? He can maintain decorum and -

“Look at yourself, chérie. See how beautiful you are when you’re taking my cock?” Comte’s voice drifted through the crack of the door.

Sebastian swallowed thickly.

Luck was not on his side today.

Sebastian didn’t fancy himself much of a voyeur, but-

He shook his head. No. He was not getting into those thoughts.

He quickly, but neatly, placed the tray outside the door. Standing up and straightening his bowtie, Sebastian retreated back to the safety of the kitchen, pointedly ignoring the tightness in his pants.

So what if he later purchased a smaller, floor-length standing mirror for his own personal use?

Dividers by @/natimiles

Taglist: @natimiles @queengiuliettafirstlady @candiedcoffeedrops @goddesswitchmother @candied-boys

@fang-and-feather @faustianfascination

Want to be added? Submit the form here.

[zippidi-dooda]

Dunno if this exists yet, but someone needs to write stories of twst clubs x reader, where members slowly become more attached and possessive of Y/N, could be mild or bordering on yandere actions, platonic or romantic. Includes all clubs, even the single member ones. They can also be set in the current NRC timeline or in the future or as a whole different AU.

Here's some examples and ideas to fuel you to start,

"Basketball Club × Reader" - Be ready to go pro with this ambitious group, Jamil, Ace, and Floyd. An unexpected turn of events is sure to ensue if the time is right, or wrong rather, but rest assured that you'll soon be set back on track by the level headed of the members. You say you don't like the spontaneity? Don't worry, me neither. But if I can, then I'm sure you could also find it in your heart to forgive and just go along with it, yes? Oh dear, don't you seem out of it today. Here, let us help. Just follow my every instruction ... yes, just like that ... it's good to know you're the most cooperative of us ...

"Pop Music Club x Reader" - Have fun jammin' out and sharing crazy stories with this energetic trio, Lilia, Cater, and Kalim. You'll always feel welcomed and noticed here whether you know how to hum a tune or have never touched an instrument in your life. Just enjoy the tea and spill your darkest secrets whenever you'd like, this group is patient and remembers every last detail, you'll never want to leave. Though, if the thought does cross your mind, you'll need to announce your upcoming absence so we can throw a goodbye party. But, maybe you shouldn't. We'll just remind you of all the good times you'll miss. For one last time, we'll laugh and joke about how horrible and destroyed your life would be without us. We know everything about you, even the diabolical. Why, if your secrets were to be spread through magicam like wildfire, it'd close so many doors for you, no one would ever look at you the same. You don't want that, right? It'd be best to just stay here with us where your peace of mind is secured, right? You're free to go, but please don't forget us. And don't forget that all it takes is one push of a button to push your life downhill ...

"Spelldrive Club x Reader" - Soar through the skies as you chase your victory alongside this competitive bunch, Leona, Ruggie, and Epel. You train hard everyday, but there's still time to get together during breaks, the chipper of your group bonding over your mutual desire to crush the competition as your captain snoozes. Other, bigger, teams want to recruit you which is a great opportunity. You're honored. And you should be, but don't you know you're the most valuable member of the team? We couldn't make it without you. Not to mention, we'd be heartbroken to see you leave. These guys are too proud to say it, but deep down you know it's true. Those other guys may be better against teams we haven't been able to beat, but they'll never support you as much we do. You wouldn't want to lose the people who love you most, would you? No? Ah, I'm glad. Don't worry, we're sure to win someday, just stick with us and you'll never have to worry about disappointing anyone again ...

"Equestrian Club x Reader" - Gallop through endless fields alongside your law-abiding yet tender companions, Sebek, Silver, and Riddle. Rest assured that with these three you'll have bushels of fun, but more importantly, you'll always be safe. Always. Perhaps a bit too safe ... but there's no such thing, right? Just follow our instructions quickly and obediently, quietly, and you'll never have to worry about the risks of riding through the wilderness again. We promise not to let you get hurt. If it takes being restricted to only the land visible to us, so be it ... hm? Oh, my apologies, I am simply running my mouth. Pay it no mind. Ah, hey, not that way. Why? Well, we haven't quite explored there yet and we'd rather not risk endangering you or the poor horses. Perhaps we can take a look at it tomorrow and see if it's fit for a trot, yes? I agree, now why don't we head back, I can guide your horse for you if you'd like. Just sit back and relax, you're safe with us taking the reins, I promise. The most safe you'll ever be ...

"Track & Field Club x Reader" - Live life fast and furious with this driven pair, Deuce and Jack. You'll always be encouraged to push your limits with their helpful hollers. You won't be upset long with their optimistic cheering. But make sure you show up for every meet, if not, they'll worry about you. They'll go looking for you. And they will find you. Hey, we haven't seen you around lately, is everything okay? Is now a bad time? I'm sorry, but we really missed you yesterday and just wanted to know nothing bad happened. Why don't you come join us for lunch tomorrow, we don't have to practice. We'll get you whatever you want, promise. Wait! You ... weren't planning on leaving me behind again, were you? Good. Ya had me worried for a second, haha. So, we'll meet up at 2:30? Great. Afterwards we can just hangout. And if you want to go for a quick jog again we'd be more than happy to. We've always been faster than you, though, remember? But, don't worry, we'll go easy on you if you ask. Just don't bolt when we're not looking so we don't have to worry and chase after you ... again ...

"Film Research Club x Reader" - Get ready to make strides in the acting business as you perform and work behind the scenes with model and tech genius, Vil and Ortho. Just make sure you aren't so distracted by the applause and spotlights that you forget to read the fine print of your contract. You wish to quit? I'm sorry, My Dear, but I'm afraid you've agreed to work with only us for xxxx amount of years and we need you to play this next lead in order to ensure our film trumps Neige's. Don't worry, we know all the right tips and tricks to secure perfection, just read the script as directed. Exactly. As directed ...

"Science Club x Reader" - Slip those safety goggles on and hold your breath as you run experiments with this curious pair, Trey and Rook. There's nothing better than getting your hands on new and exciting material. Not exactly sure why you're here? No worries! Not all of us are either, but we have fun here. Any experiments you've heard of you'd like to try? Only illegal ones? No problem we can get our hands on the items needed just tell us what they are ... a funny joke? No. I'm dead serious ... we've done plenty before ... ahaha! You look so frightened, lighten up, no one's died ... yet ... hey wait don't give that look. Sorry if that was too much. We're careful enough to keep things safe ... unnoticed ... what's that liquid? Oh just some juice for a friend using the fruits in here, would you like to try it? Here, have a sip ... what's that? It burns? Ah, I see let's write that down. What else are you feeling? What? Using you? No way, we'd never do something so cruel ... you're simply helping us learn as our lab partner ... oh stop that, no one else is here ... now tell me before things escalate ... what other sensations are you feeling ... fascinating ... it's different compared to last time ... too bad you forget after you wake up ... it's why we have to keep doing this ... over ... and over again

"Board Game Club x Reader" - Roll up thise sleeves and bring your a-game as you play with these competitive gamers, Azul and Idia. Have fun and forget the days worries as you make you way across the mat, never will these two give you a boring game. Though that doesn't mean we can't take things up a notch ... What say you we have a little wager? We beat you xx amount of times and you do us a little favor in return? I promise there'll be no foul play. You could ask a favor of us too if you win. In fact we can sweeten the deal even more if you're game ... no? Oh, don't tell me you're scared you'll lose ... you're not? Good. Then there's no issue making a harmless bet, yes? How lovely ... now, why don't we all sign this paper to ensure no one chickens out when they lose ... oh don't worry it's nothing serious, just a sheet of rules, standard club ware yes? Yes ... now right on the line ... good job. You agreed to sign this freely remember? Right. So don't go back on you word later ... nothing good comes of cheaters ... trust me ... I take care of all of them ...

"Gargoyle Studies Club x Reader" - Prepare to learn each and every random tidbit about each little stone as you explore the ruins with this wise companion, Malleus. Everything may go in one ear and out the other but this voice just so dreamy that you don't mind the rambles, right? But please do make an effort, no one likes a dimwit who can't tell the difference between a grotesque and a gargoyle. But, oh dear, it looks like you really are getting tired. Don't worry, I know how to care for my own, you can slumber for the next century safe at my side. I promise to be here when I let you wake up. At least then we won't need worry about those pesky mortals who wrestle your time from me. Hm, what was that ... you feel disoriented ...? Oh you needn't worry, that's a standard effect ... you won't feel a thing in a moment ... trust me ... your dearest friend ... I'll always be watching over you ...

"Mountain Lovers Club x Reader" - Embark on cozy and informative hikes through the mountains with your knowledgable partner Jade. But beware the trained smiles and pre-packed lunches, you may end up a little further out than planned. Oh, don't worry, the place I had in mind is just a little further along, I promise. You trust me, don't you? Good, then everything should go smoothly. Hm? You're not feeling well? Ah, perhaps you ate something you shouldn't have ... I do hope you were taking note of those wilderness survival tips I gave you ... though, they may not be of much help to you underwater ... hm? Oh, I wasn't saying anything of importance, don't mind me. You did say you trust me, yes? I'd like to find out just how much ...

Honestly, I had a lot of fun writing these ideas, even though I did forget about them for a while.

[666writingcafe]

Wrath

A Text Conversation Between Satan and MC

Satan: You don't have to worry about my transition affecting you. As it turns out, the bulk of it occurred before you were even introduced to us.

Satan: Part of why this is even happening is because the others were once angels, so it's taking their bodies longer to adjust to their new form.

Satan: Meanwhile, this is all I've ever been, so it's a bit easier for me to accept who I am.

MC: I appreciate you telling me this. I sure could use the break from experiencing everyone's sin.

Satan: I bet. You must be exhausted.

MC: *nodding crow sticker*

MC: Can I ask you a personal question?

Satan: As long as you're prepared for the fact that I may not answer.

MC: Fair enough.

MC: What was your biggest fear?

Satan: During that time?

MC: *nodding crow sticker*

Satan: Being reduced to a mere shadow of Lucifer. I started as a feeling inside him. The more he felt it, the stronger I became. The war and consequent fall caused me to separate from him.

Satan: For the longest time, my mind was a wasteland. I had to separate my identity from Lucifer's, which was quite frustrating, to say the least. I know there will always be similarities between us, but it's taken me a while to find any substantial differences. I've had to force some to form in order to gain some semblance of self.

MC: How did you overcome it?

Satan: By listening to you.

Satan: When you summoned that ball of light, it was the first time I've truly been calm. The longer I held the light in my hands, the more I could discern its whispering. It was your voice comforting me. It was soothing.

Satan: But it also felt familiar.

Satan: Which brings me to my next point.

Satan: I know who you really are, MC.

MC: *eek sticker*

MC: *eek sticker*

MC: *eek sticker*

Satan: It's okay. I'm not upset. I understand why you had to keep your true identity a secret. I wouldn't have even found out if it wasn't for Lord Diavolo and Barbatos.

MC: WHAT????

Satan: Don't worry; they didn't tell me outright. I just happened to be in the castle library when they walked in and began talking about you. If they knew I was in the room with them, I doubt they would have said anything about it until I left, but I was tucked in a corner behind a couple bookshelves, so they couldn't have seen me without purposely looking for me.

MC: *face-palming crow sticker*

MC: You REALLY weren't supposed to find out, but it's not like I can do anything to change it.

MC: So, tell me what you overheard them say about me.

Satan: I know you come from a future timeline. The prince apparently had told Barbatos to try to find your version of the butler and get some answers from him about why all this has been happening to you. They've really been worried about you and want to do everything in their power to help you.

MC: I imagine my Barbatos was selective about what he shared.

Satan: *nodding crow sticker*

Satan: He mentioned that back home, you're a human that managed to form pacts with all seven of us and that a large part of your power became tied to your emotions as a result.

Satan: He also seems to believe you were sent here to experience each of our transformations firsthand so that you can help someone go through their own.

Satan: Obviously, he didn't reveal who that person was, but both my Diavolo and Barbatos felt like that would have been unnecessary information, for they've observed someone begin acting differently during your stay here.

MC: Oh?

Satan: Apparently, he trapped you in a closet at some point?

MC: Shit.

Satan: So it IS him, then?

MC: Yes.

Satan: The only memories I have of him prior to him visiting us for the founding ceremony are hazy and through Lucifer's eyes, but I've always gotten the sense he's not been particularly happy about where he's at.

Satan: I just didn't think he'd have the guts to do anything to wildly change his circumstances. He seems too devoted to the little one to just pack his things and leave it all behind.

MC: I don't think he did when we first met.

Satan: Are you able to tell me what changed, or would that be revealing too much information?

MC: I can give you the simple answer and let you fill in the blanks.

Satan: *thumbs up emoji*

MC: He developed strong feelings for me.

Satan: But you're a human.

MC: Yes.

Satan: And he's an angel.

MC: At the time, yes.

Satan: Wait a damn minute.

Satan: Did he seriously FALL for you?!

MC: Not quite. He was still an angel when I left, but he'd made some choices beforehand that pretty much sealed his fate. I just don't know what exactly he'll be when I return.

Satan: Well, judging by the way they're saying he's currently acting here, I'd say he's gearing up to be YOURS.

Satan: And I'm not trying to be sappy. I'm being completely serious.

MC: I don't doubt it.

Satan: When he believed everyone was out of the room when you and Asmo were passed out, he was right by your side, watching over you.

Satan: According to Barbatos, he even held your hand and kissed you on the forehead before he eventually got up and left.

Satan: Angels don't typically act that way towards demons. Even with Diavolo's efforts to make peace with the Celestial Realm, they tend to act rather hostile whenever they're around us for more than a few seconds.

MC: I know.

Satan: I'll let you get some rest. You'll need it

Satan: And don't worry; your secret is safe with me.

Taglist: @lost-in-time-wanderer, @fuzztacular, @dianedancer18, @sweetbrier2908, @flare-love, @completelyshatteredbrokenmschf, @thunderlightning351, @l3v1chan, @anxious-chick, @5mary5, @expressionless-fr, @tenkobitch, @budbuddnbuddy