#and he's unapologetic about it. there's something to like about that

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Some Pop Culture Terms

Brat - someone who is confidently rebellious, unapologetically bold, and playfully defiant. This new definition celebrates individuality and a carefree attitude, often with a hint of sass and a love for fun. Being labeled “a brat” or “bratty” in this context is more of a compliment, recognizing a person’s ability to challenge norms and express themselves freely without concern for conventional expectations. It is widely used by fans of Charli XCX and similar artists, as well as by individuals who identify with the rebellious, free-spirited attitude it represents.

Clickbait - describes misleading internet content or shocking headline titles that aim to drive traffic to a website. Since 2017, clickbait has been used in tandem with another internet term fake news, as fake news stories are often dressed as clickbait.

Clout chaser - a critical term for a person who is thought to be intent on attaining fame, especially one who tries to do so in ways considered desperate, such as leveraging their proximity to famous people or doing things considered foolish, degrading, or dangerous. It seems to have emerged on social media around 2012.

Compulsion loop - (or core loop) is a cycle of activities that are encouraged to be looped or repeated because of a neurochemical reward (in the form of dopamine) released into your brain. In other words, it’s when you continuously do something because it provides pleasure. Evidence for the phrase compulsion loop dates to the 1990s, though it was applied to technology at least by 2001. If you’ve ever checked your Snapchat, then Twitter, then Instagram, then Snapchat again because, well, it’s been ten minutes and maybe something new came in, then you’ve gotten stuck in a compulsion loop. This happens when you are compelled–often by design–to habitually repeat an activity, especially on the internet or a video game, because it gives you pleasure. And the tech companies know it.

Dream gap - describes a phenomenon where young girls, due to social constructions that women are less capable and valuable than men, are held back from living up to their full potential. It’s notably featured in the Dream Gap Campaign, toymaker Mattel’s efforts to empower young girls.

Grandfluencer - an older influencer, especially one who seems at least old enough to be a grandparent. The popular sense of the word influencer refers to a person who’s known for being influential due to having a large social media following. Though the age of people considered or called grandfluencers varies widely, the term is most often applied to people who are older than 60. It is thought to have been popularized in part by a September 2021 Associated Press article that prominently used the term to discuss the growing trend of older people developing large social media followings.

Mermaid effect - coined by the sitcom How I Met Your Mother, states that, the more time a man spends with a woman, the more he’ll find her sexually attractive–even if he initially finds her unattractive. It’s also sometimes used to refer to a trend in beauty featuring such styles as holographic pastels or mermaid-inspired details. It’s related to a real phenomenon in psychology. The mere-exposure effect says that humans are more likely to develop a preference to familiar things.

Pay it forward - an expression for when the recipient of an act of kindness does something kind for someone else rather than simply accepting or repaying the original good deed.

Pretzel logic - an expression used to describe someone’s “twisted reasoning.” The term spread in the 1980–90s, but it is closely associated with the acclaimed 1974 album and title track Pretzel Logic by rock band Steely Band. The song is, apparently, about reckoning with the passage of time.

Weeping Angel - a type of monster with the capability of sending others back in time by touching them. They are unable to move while being watched by any living creature, including their own kind, and are turned into stone while an observer’s eye is on them. It first appeared in the 2007 Doctor Who episode “Blink.” The episode’s title comes from the advice the Doctor gives: “Don’t blink. Blink and you’re dead. They are fast. Faster than you can believe. Don’t turn your back. Don’t look away. And don’t blink. Good Luck.”

Source ⚜ More: Word Lists ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs

[reocidal]

FILM DIVA!

PAIRING ALHAITHAM X GN!READER

WARNINGS alhaitham gets hit by one (1) (soft) (cardboard) popcorn bucket, one (1) instance of swearing. romcom ish? vibes?

WORD COUNT 703

AUTHOR'S NOTE um. haha whats this @phantasmaebg

ALHAITHAM has always lived his life in black and white, clear cut rules and a perfect routine. he has no need for the mundane "joys" of everyday life, or whatever kaveh's been harping about most recently. he'd made that clear to himself — and everyone else — on his first day at the akademiya. he's skipped lunch dates and dinner dates and movie dates and hangouts with his friends (they're not his friends, he says) in lieu of studying more. black and white, study and sleep, that's all he needs in his life.

he thinks it's only fitting that you waltz unapologetically into his life, whimsical splashes of colour and noise as a sick sort of karma afterwards. you're loud and bright and your blood (he assumes) is liquid rainbows and you're everything he isn't. you're also dragging him to a movie theatre right now, and he really doesn't want to go.

there's a permanent scowl etched onto his face, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his black hoodie. you'd told him to dress casual, and then gone through his entire closet when he'd opened the door in something appropriate only for the most depressing and sombre of funerals. after a lengthy consultation with "the committee", as you claimed — he thinks you just spoke to the other voices in your head — you'd come up with the most casual of outfits possible in his (rather hopeless) case. a dark hoodie, and even darker jeans.

"seriously, dude, get something nicer," you'd grumbled, and he'd glared at you in response, but the mental note was still made.

you're quite the contrast to him — what colour even is this? chartreuse? whatever you're wearing is absolutely hideous and would make anyone wearing it look even worse, but not you. never you, apparently. he really hates his brain, but you're positively glowing in this lettuce-coloured garbage bag.

the movie is boring; he prefers to look at you instead — though he'd never say that out loud. the micromovements of your face, the expressions that you make, bathed in the ever-changing multi-coloured light of the screen — it's all a thousand times more intriguing than whatever's going on in the film.

halfway through the film, you turn to him accusingly. "you're not paying attention!"

"i am," he protests, although without any effort to actually oppose your claim. you raise an unconvinced brow and he shrugs. "not that this needs a lot of attention to be given in order to be understood. it's quite simple, actually."

"that's one of my favourite movies ever," you snort. "you shouldn't insult people like that, you shit!"

how does he fix this?

"or consider," he begins, smooth, placating. "the simplicity of the film is the exact reason why it appeals to you. it provides you the comfort that you yearn for without making you feel the discomfort of having to use your brain."

"are you calling me dumb, alhaitham?"

he grimaces. "no, y/n, you're very smart. really."

unfortunately, he also accidentally uses his comfort unruly children voice and not his i am being sooo serious voice.

your empty popcorn carton hits him square in the jaw. he picks it off the floor (no littering!) and rubs his face with his free hand. "this was somewhat unnecessary, don't you think, y/n?"

"thanks for the heads up," you reply, rather unremorsefully. "it'll probably happen again."

he's never been happier to be alone with you, he decides. better to be embarrassed alone than in front of an audience. wait, technically he's the audience here, right? how confusing; he hates to think about it. the rest of the movie passes rather uneventfully — he pays a little more attention than before, and you tone down the physical violence to only one or two jabs that you declare are accidental. (he knows they're not.) on the way home, you buy him an ice pack and a meat stew: PIZZA edition; 40% off! as an apology.

back at home, alhaitham thinks it over and decides that he does not hate you at all. after all your antics today, it concerns him tremendously. surely… surely not. he doesn't do romance; this is impossible! yet, a pale flush spreads across his face all the same.

© reocidal 2024

[hivemuthur]

The Game of Teaching Body - Ch. 11.

viktorxfemale!reader explicit! (we back at it)

AU university, AU modern era, slow burn, frenemies to lovers, teasing, pinning, banter, eventual romance and therefore smut, Viktor is simultaneously a menace and needs a hug, TA Viktor

Ch.1. | Ch.2. | Ch.3. | Ch.4. | Ch.5. | Ch.6. | Ch.7. | Ch.8. | Ch.9. | Ch.10. | Ch.12.

word count: 6,3K

tag: #the game of teaching body

summary: My humble offering after the stress of previous chapters. I promise there is fluff.

Cross-posted on AO3 + POV3rd Person Version

—

Christmas at home unfolded in its usual rhythm, but this time, it felt different. Despite your own scepticism, you actually attempted the moon salutations your dad had badgered you about. Later, you unapologetically devoured an inhuman amount of pierogi, earning both admiration and disapproval from your relatives. Yet, for the first time in years, you found yourself genuinely enjoying the festivities. Somehow, the snow fight with Viktor, and everything else that came with it, had lightened something inside you. The weight you hadn’t realised you’d been carrying felt less oppressive, and the chaos of your family became something you could actually laugh about.

For Viktor, Christmas with Jayce and his family was quieter than expected but in a way that felt oddly relaxing. Jayce, ever the enthusiast, made a commendable attempt at cooking a festive dinner, and despite Viktor’s initial doubts, it wasn’t a complete disaster. They spent the evening exchanging stories, the crackle of the fireplace filling the silences, and for the first time in a long time, Viktor didn’t feel like an outsider looking in on a tradition.

You returned to university on a train with Hale, the two of you chatting about everything and nothing. Hale, perceptive as ever, avoided probing you about Sheffield or Viktor, instead letting you adjust to the shift in pace on your own. Your laughter filled the carriage as you shared stories about your holidays, the comfort of familiarity easing the transition back to reality.

And yet, both you and Viktor found your thoughts drifting back to the snow—the cold biting your skin, the warmth of your laughter, your anger, and your resolution. You had kept it to yourselves, not out of secrecy, but out of reverence for how rare it felt. Now, as you both prepared to return to university, a mix of excitement and nervousness settled in your chest. Whatever had happened in Sheffield, whatever had moved, would soon be tested by the reality of your everyday lives. Neither of you knew what would come next, but Viktor’s fear had smoothed around the edges, and your hesitation had warmed up to hope.

When you all met by the entrance, it was hard not to skip slightly. Jayce was unloading his and Viktor’s bags from the trunk, while Viktor leaned against the car, waving his hands in the air, clearly saying something important—or groundbreaking.

“I’m thrilled to see you again, gentlemen,” Hale smirked, taking in the uneven division of labour. “I have to admit, this is exactly how I pictured your setup,” he wagged his eyebrows at Jayce, who only shrugged, playfully unbothered.

You walked up to Viktor, giving him a small, casual wave. He responded with a quiet “hi,” and before you could ask anything, he took a step, closing the distance between you. He had rehearsed the moment of your next meeting in his head, and this wasn’t how it was supposed to go, but his body acted entirely outside his brain’s jurisdiction.

“What are you—” you started, but your question was cut off when he leaned in and kissed you. Your body froze in surprise—hands hovering over his shoulders, tentative—before you relaxed into it, placing your palms on his arms.

The kiss was enough to make Jayce and Hale freeze, eyes wide and jaws dropped, as if they had just witnessed something completely impossible. When Viktor pulled back, he looked at you for a moment, his breath shallow. “I’m sorry I haven’t texted, I—”

Your lips quirked into a smile. “My family hunts down anyone that uses a phone over Christmas with torches and pitchforks,” you teased, your tone light, though it still carried a slight tremble of nervousness.

Hale burst your bubble with a loud clearing of his throat, his eyes rolling knowingly. He propped his hand on his hip, his expression a mix of disbelief and amusement, and then turned toward Jayce, holding out his other hand. “Alright, pay up, unbeliever.”

Jayce, still a little stunned, dug into his wallet without saying a word, pulling out a ten-pound note and handing it to Hale. “You are a fucking witch, Hale.”

“I’m sorry, did you take bets on my private life?” you scoffed, slightly bemused in mock offence, your arms now circled around Viktor’s waist.

“We didn’t bet against you if that’s what’s worrying you. Just the time frames,” Hale said, waving his hand vaguely between you and Viktor. “Jayce wouldn’t accept that this”—he gestured loosely—“will resolve itself before mid-terms.” He shrugged, fanning himself playfully with his illegally acquired tenner.

“I hope now you know that my powers have no limit, and that I am always right,” he announced triumphantly in Jayce’s direction.

“I don’t even want to know what you guys talked about when we weren’t around,” you sighed, resigned to the thought of your little drama becoming fodder for your friends’ gossip routine. It felt completely alien to be wrapped around Viktor in public, though not unwelcome—he had solved your next equation for you: how you were going to tell the group that the volatile times were over.

Jayce seemed happy enough about losing the bet; he gave Viktor a pat on the shoulder and ran off to see Mel. Hale strolled off toward his dorm building, leaving you and Viktor to grab your bags and march together into whatever was coming next. You exchanged awkward small talk about your holiday experiences as you walked toward the lift, your hands loosely tangled together.

You entered the elevator with two other girls, who eyed you suspiciously. Viktor pressed the button for his floor with his cane, trying to appear as nonchalant as possible, completely ignoring your questioning gaze.

“Excuse me, and what about my floor?” you asked, your eyebrows raised in mock offence as you shifted your bag higher on your shoulder.

“We are not going to your floor,” Viktor replied calmly, not even sparing you a glance as the elevator began its ascent. His arm was wrapped around your shoulders, letting part of his weight rest on you.

“Oh, we’re not, are we?” you challenged, turning to face him fully. “And where exactly are you dragging me, Mr. Master Planner?”

“Obviously, up to my room,” he said, his tone so unbothered it almost made you laugh.

You tilted your head, narrowing your eyes at him. “And what would I possibly want to do in your room?”

Viktor’s lips twitched into a sly smile as he glanced sideways at you, his voice low and laced with amusement. “It’s about what I want to do. But if you have to ask so many questions...” He leaned in closer, his breath brushing your ear, and you could feel the smug grin blooming on his lips. “I want to eat you out.”

The two girls in the elevator exchanged a glance, one of them scoffing in incredulity, while you whisper-shouted at him in shock, “Viktor! There are people here!”

“You insisted. Now you know,” he replied, unfazed, his cane tapping lightly against the floor as the elevator continued upward.

The moment the door to Viktor’s room shut behind you, the tension you’d carried up the lift broke like a dam. You spun on your heel, shoving Viktor lightly against the door, your lips finding his in a hungry kiss. Your hands tangled in his hair, mussing the strands with reckless abandon. Viktor let out a soft noise of surprise, barely managing to steady himself with his cane before surrendering to your fervour.

Your fingers made quick work of his belt; the metallic clink startlingly loud in the otherwise quiet room. You barely pulled back from the kiss, your breath hot against his lips as you whispered, “God, you’re hot.”

Viktor’s ears burned red, his breath hitching as he stared at you, stunned and flustered. “Where did that come from?” he asked, his voice uneven, the faintest hint of a nervous laugh escaping him.

You smirked, tilting your head as you undid the last of his belt and tugged it loose. “Have you seen the mirror like… ever? You are always hot,” you breathed against his neck, unceremoniously shoving your hand down his pants, making him release a startled moan. “But now you are the hottest,” you said eagerly, wrapping your fingers around his cock.

Viktor jumped at your touch, his body instinctively trying to wiggle out of your grasp as he rasped in surprise, “I thought I made myself clear in the lift, so what is this you’re trying to—ah!” He broke off, his breath hitching as your fingers traced a particularly sensitive spot. His protest melted into a half-laugh, half-groan before he finished, “…do?”

“Maybe I want to eat you out first?” you retorted playfully in between kisses, as you walked him carefully toward the bed, plucking his cane from his hand and sitting him on the mattress. And he let you. He let your hands guide his torso to splay flat and your palms to travel down his chest and thighs, your skin hot with yearning, as you positioned yourself between his legs. He propped himself up to run his hands up your thighs, only to discover it was stockings hiding beneath your skirt.

“Is that for me?” It was meant as a tease but came out too admiring to provoke anything else than a smile on your face.

“Yes,” you said bluntly, and seeing some other remark already dancing on the tip of his tongue, you leaned in and took a long, deep whiff of his cock through the underwear. Viktor’s head fell back onto the pillow as he released a loud groan, his body curling up in heat. His words caught in his throat, and all he could manage was a shaky laugh. “This… isn’t fair play.”

“Oh no, Viktor, you’d better call the police,” you mocked, sliding his pants and boxers down to take him in fully, for the first time, in broad daylight. You paused, your eyes fixed on him, flustered and dishevelled by the doings of your own hands, and whispered in awe, “You are so fucking hot.” A smile bloomed on your face as you noticed the blush rapidly creeping up his chest.

Viktor took a couple of long breaths to steady himself, your warm hands resting in the creases of his thighs making him twitch slightly. “I might have come up with a compromise,” he managed to say, his words escaping in a desperate exhale.

Seeing your eyebrows shoot up in question, he motioned for you to come closer. Wordlessly, he guided your hands to rest on his hips and positioned your hips over his chest to straddle him. Your fingers tensed up, digging into his hipbones, so he soothed you sliding his palms flat over your ass cheeks and whispered into your core, “Trust me.”

You hesitated, waiting for him to make the next move. When you felt his face hovering over your underwear, you jumped slightly at the heat of his breath. “It seems to me that you come unprepared… though not unready.” He smirked, seeing the moisture that had already pooled itself through your knickers. “How attached are you to those?” he asked quietly, gliding his hands underneath the material.

“Not very attached, why?” Your tone was light, though trembling at the edges. Your eyes were transfixed on his cock already weeping at the tip, but Viktor didn’t see. All he saw was what was in front of him, when he ripped the material in one smooth motion and placed an outrageously loud, moany kiss on your core, sending a jolt up your spine. “Well, that’s just beautiful, isn’t it.”

He peppered slow smooches all over you and you jumped at each and every one. This was perfect—a sudden surge of affection tore through him, as he felt a strange sense of belonging there, smothered by your thighs. He scratched his nails on the meat of your ass and pushed his nose inside you, taking a long whiff. It went through your mind how incredibly gross and hot it was simultaneously, when your own whimper broke your focus—Viktor licked your clit with a hard tongue, while teasing your entrance with the tip of his nose. A low chuckle echoed through you, when he felt your inside clench on nothing.

You had to recollect herself quickly, though Viktor’s tongue made it so, so difficult. You steadied the base of his cock in your hand and kissed the tip sweetly, drawing a muffled moan from his lips. His face snapped an inch away, only for him to brush his thumb against your clit playfully, causing your rhythm to stutter. You huffed, as if to scold him, but your mouth, already wrapped around his cock, never left him, and it made him giggle.

Seeing your resolve wouldn’t faulter, Viktor hooked his arms around your thighs and buried his face greedily in your core. The groan you let out caused his belly to knot tightly and send a vibration all the way up to his mouth, which he delivered back as a helpless mewl against your lips.

None of you would give in, completely invested in drawing hums and growls from each other, just to send one another over the edge. Until Viktor used his last resort—he pushed two fingers inside you to join his tongue in this sweet torture and you fell for the first time that day. You snapped your mouth away from him, your spine pulled up like that of a puppet to grind your hips down on Viktor’s face, as your wordlessly came into it, covering his mouth, nose, and cheeks with your sleek.

It was a completely new kind of intimacy for you. The gentle struggle for control between you mirrored the way you had pushed and pulled at each other emotionally, leaving you both nervous and excited all at once. The sound of your own heavy breathing filled the silence, and you found herself torn between wanting to hug him, suck him off into oblivion, or scream at him—all these feelings mingling together, none overpowering the others.

“Good girl,” he let out a breathy laugh, slapping your ass cheek playfully. You groaned at your defeat, but having your full focus back, you eagerly resumed the work on the assignment. Having Viktor trapped underneath you, you cupped his balls in one hand and let your throat relax over his length.

You considered teasing him, but the thought vanished the moment your skin met his again. The helpless twitch in your mouth made you release a muffled yearning moan, and you realised that the feeling of pleasure spreading through your bodies was mutual.

Your mouth was hot on him, and the feeling of Viktor’s body writhe underneath yours, now nestled comfortably in his edges, made your chest fill with warmth. You worked him slowly, thoroughly, taking in all the small sounds his lips would give you. His hips bucked once in a while and when he couldn’t hold himself back much longer, he bit on your ass cheek, sending your chuckle straight into his burning core.

“Ah, I can’t—,” Viktor tried to plea, but you wouldn’t release him. You held his hips down with your weight and allowed him to spill himself into your mouth, the taste of him salty and heavy on your tongue as you pushed it down your throat, keeping it to yourself. His cock finally broke free with a quiet ‘pop’ sound, making him release a small hiss.

Viktor lay still, his chest rising and falling with steady breaths, your weight pressing down on him in a way that was both grounding and liberating. He felt no pain, no discomfort—only the warm afterglow of bliss, a soothing wave that enveloped him as you rested on top of him, your body soft and pliant against his. For a moment, time seemed to stretch, leaving only the two of you, intertwined like figures on a set of poker cards, your softness pouring itself between his sharp edges. The silence between you felt full, almost sacred, as Viktor's mind slowly unfurled, each thought calmly finding its place in the serenity of the moment. In this stillness, there was no rush, no urgency—just the quiet, powerful understanding of everything you had shared and the comfort of knowing it wasn’t over yet.

“Hey, come up here,” he took a deep breath, his fingers tracing a line up your spine. You obliged wordlessly, settling yourself in the crook of his neck, when he pulled you into a slow, grateful kiss. He could feel the taste of himself on your mouth, which made him deepen the kiss and pull you closer.

“I guess this is not on your mind now, but I just want to let you know that I’m healthy,” he said quietly, his expression thoughtful.

You blinked twice, your mind slowly coming back into your body. Fuck, right. “Jesus, I didn’t even think—”

“That’s alright. If you need some sex ed, I can be of service,” he smirked, right into your face. “Now would be the time you tell me about yourself.”

“Hm, I don’t know, I had this weird rash for days, can you take a look?” you started pulling your shirt up in a joke and Viktor whined, “Get off me, you vile woman!”

You both laughed, the sound light and easy, before he pulled you back in, his lips finding yours again in a deeper, more lingering kiss. “You are such a weirdo,” he said, affection dripping from his voice. He nuzzled his face into yours and let out a content sigh.

“I’m healthy too,” you smiled, feeling the familiar warmth between you two. It was strange how easy it felt to talk to him about something that could be so awkward with anyone else. It felt natural, in a way that wasn’t foreshadowed by the route you had to take to get there.

“I guess this would also be a good time to tell you I’m on the pill?” you said, your voice playful, your fingers tracing circles on his chest.

Viktor paused, his expression shifting as he gently cupped your face, making you meet his eyes. His gaze was serious, his tone low but steady. “That’s your decision,” he said, his thumb brushing over your cheek, “but just know that other methods work for me too, if that’s what you’d prefer.”

You smiled at him, the warmth in his voice making your heart flutter. Leaning forward, you pressed a quick kiss to his cheek, your lips lingering just for a moment longer than necessary.

You settled into a silent lull, tangled with each other. Viktor didn’t break the stillness for a moment, his thoughts weighing on him, before he finally spoke, his voice quieter than before.

“So... would you go on a date with me?” he asked, a slight nervousness creeping into the edges of his words.

Your lips curved into a soft, genuine smile, your eyes bright as you responded, “I thought we already were.”

He chuckled, the sound a little more relieved than he expected. “Not quite what I meant,” he said, his fingers lightly tracing the line of your jaw. “But yes, this is me asking... would you?”

You laughed softly, teasing him. “Well, I guess since you asked so nicely… yes.”

Viktor’s smile softened as he leaned in to kiss you again, the simple act of asking suddenly feeling like one of the most important things he had done in a long time.

***

The simple act of getting dressed wasn’t so simple, though. You paced up and down your room, your wardrobe splayed out—well, everywhere—as you eyed every single item of clothing, only to toss it aside with a grunt.

“Where is he taking you?” Sue asked, knowing she had to tread carefully. When she suggested that jeans and a t-shirt would fit anywhere, you responded with a huff and a pair of rolled-up socks thrown in her direction.

“I. Have. No. Idea,” you finally slumped down on the bed, surrounded by the pile of clothes. “Sue, I’m losing my mind. I think I should break up with him.”

“Jesus, I don’t know which one of you is worse,” your friend chuckled, proceeding to ruffle through her own wardrobe. She pulled out a simple blue dress with spaghetti straps. “There—you could wear this for a restaurant, a museum, or even a club. Maybe a pub too, but you might turn a couple of heads in it,” she said, placing the dress at your feet.

You peeked through your fingers, then paused. This... might work. “Do I get your boobs with it, though?” You shot Sue a glance, measuring the fabric against your chest.

“Will you stop being such a twat? I already feel like I’m overstepping. Hale should be your fairy godmother here,” Sue crossed her arms over her chest. “This is my lucky dress, and you will treat yourself with respect when you wear it, young lady!”

“Uh, how many times did you get lucky in it?” you said, feigning disgust as you held the dress in front of yourself by the straps dangling from your fingers.

“It’s freshly washed,” Sue shot you a sweet smile, and you only rolled your eyes. You put the dress on and, surprisingly, it fit. It actually fit so well that you worried it might be an overkill. A knock on the door pulled you out of the debate about whether you should go with jeans and a t-shirt instead.

“Are you… oh,” Viktor’s voice caught in his throat, and you immediately abandoned the jeans-and-t-shirt idea. He cleared his throat and repeated, “Are you ready?”

“Yes.” You eyed him up and down—he looked… nice. Nicer than usual, as much as that was possible. He was wearing a long coat, dark brown woollen pants, and a white shirt that peeked out from under his red pullover. A matching red scarf hung loosely from his neck, and you suddenly remembered it was winter, so you had to wear a coat as well.

“Or rather, almost ready,” you quipped, grabbing your coat and a small purse.

“And why haven’t I seen this dress before?” Viktor leaned in to give you a peck on the cheek, his hand sliding down your waist.

“It’s Sue’s lucky dress, apparently, so whatever luck happens tonight, we have Sue to thank.” You tried to sound composed, but your nerves got the better of you, and it came out breathy.

“No shagging in my dress, please,” Sue said bluntly, trying to sort out the mess you were leaving behind. “And have fun, you two.”

Viktor took your hand as you walked out together—a completely simple and innocent, loving gesture that made your heart race with panic. Were your hands sweaty? You were the one who had forgotten gloves this time. You struggled to think of anything to say that might sound natural and suddenly felt trapped in your own awkwardness. Your nerves bubbled up, and you squeezed his hand lightly, trying to distract yourself.

“So,” you began casually, your voice a little too high-pitched, “where exactly are you taking me?”

Viktor gave you a sideways glance but didn’t answer immediately. He had the same tight, focused expression he always wore when he was working. You raised an eyebrow. He was definitely keeping something from you.

“Come on,” you prodded, “You can’t just say ‘you’ll see’ and expect me not to get curious.”

“I think you’ll like it,” Viktor replied, his voice even, but you could sense the hesitation beneath it. He had no idea if you would like it, because when he picked the place, it struck him so suddenly that he didn’t have the faintest idea about what you might’ve liked in the first place. So, he picked the most generic, fancy place he had heard of, and right now it made his skin crawl that he'd heard of it from Heimerdinger.

You narrowed your eyes, trying to read him, but he kept his usual unreadable composure. After a long pause, you gave up, deciding to let the mystery unfold. Though you had no idea what you were about to walk into, it was strangely... exciting.

The restaurant was nothing like you had expected. You blinked in surprise as you entered a lavish, high-end dining room with dim lighting, white linen tablecloths, and waiters gliding silently between tables. It felt stiff—formality hanging in the air like the scent of all things expensive: leather, wine, and heavy perfume. You felt suddenly out of place in your casual dress, surrounded by the perfectly groomed people around you.

“Viktor…” you murmured, looking at him. “This is... this is fancy. Are you sure this is the place?”

Viktor smiled nervously, almost as if he was trying to reassure himself as much as you. “No, I haven’t been here before, but I’ve heard it’s really good.”

You gave him a half-smile, your nerves beginning to spike. You hadn’t expected this. He was acting like he had no idea what he was doing, but there was a determination in his eyes that made you wonder if he really was as out of his element as he seemed.

As you were led to your table, the waiter noticed Viktor’s cane and immediately straightened up, his eyes scanning the space. “Would you prefer a more comfortable seat, sir?” he asked politely. “Something with more support?”

Viktor’s hand twitched on his cane, and you quickly jumped in. “No, this is fine, thank you.” Oh God, why couldn’t you just shut up?

When you sat down, you glanced at the menu, but the silence stretched out between you as you searched for words. You glanced at Viktor, who was completely absorbed in the card, and you could swear there was a drop of sweat forming on his temple. You picked up the menu, flipping through it but barely taking in anything. Your eyes landed on the prices, which made your throat tighten.

After a beat, you asked, trying to hide the edge of concern in your voice, “Are you sure about this place? The prices—uh, it’s a little... well, it’s a lot.”

Viktor didn’t respond right away. Instead, he looked at you with an unreadable expression, and the silence settled in again. Finally, he asked, his voice quiet but sharp, “Why are you acting so weird?”

You blinked, feeling a rush of heat rise to your face. You could barely meet his eyes, feeling like you were under a microscope. “Me? Why are you acting so weird? You barely said a word tonight,” you shot back, your voice rising slightly in defence. “Is this what you think I like?”

“I… guess I’m… nervous?” Viktor’s voice faltered, sounding more like he had just begun searching for an answer. “Also… I actually might not have the faintest idea what you would like, and well…” His hand gestured vaguely, as if trying to dismiss the discomfort between you.

You blinked, your brows furrowing. “So you decided to take me to a place that makes me incredibly uncomfortable, instead of asking me?” Your voice came out sharper than you meant, more accusatory than you intended, but you couldn’t hold it back. “Why... why did you ask me out in the first place?”

Viktor’s face twisted in frustration, his lips curling into a tight line. “Because that’s what normal people do?” he retorted, his whisper barely containing the tension bubbling in his chest. “You will forgive me, but have I breached some kind of rule that you have made up in your head?”

Your chest tightened, but you couldn’t decide whether you were surprised or offended. You almost wanted to throw your hands up, but instead, you exhaled sharply, trying to rein in your growing frustration. “No, oh God, it’s not about that. Did you ask me on a date because you wanted to spend time with me, or because you felt like you had to?”

Viktor's expression faltered, his jaw clenching as if he were searching for the right words. His voice dropped even lower, still sharp but full of confusion and vulnerability.

“Jesus, please don’t do this,” he muttered, his eyes flickering with a mix of guilt and exasperation. “I asked you because I’ve never asked anyone before, and it felt… right. No matter how wrong it feels now,” he finished with a frustrated whisper-shout.

You blinked, the sudden honesty hitting you like a slap to the face. “Wait. You’ve never been on a date before?” You couldn’t hide the shock in your voice, your wide eyes searching his face for any hint of a joke. “Are you serious?”

“I didn’t say that,” Viktor shot back quickly, his voice almost defensive. “I have been asked out. But I have never asked anyone.” He looked down, his gaze turning away from you as though the words stung more than he’d let on, like admitting it was something of a personal defeat.

Your heart softened for a moment, but you quickly masked it with your usual teasing demeanour.

“I, um…” You hesitated, the weight of the awkward silence pressing down on you. You could see the evening unfolding in your mind’s eye: a tiny, overpriced meal, polite conversation, and then a quick parting with a stiff “goodnight.” That wasn’t what you wanted, but you weren’t sure how to get the two of you out of this pit you’d dug. “Where… would you take me if…”

Viktor gave you a sideways glance, his brow furrowing as he considered your words. “If I actually knew something about you?” His voice softened with a hint of uncertainty. “I don’t know. How about you tell me?”

You bit your lip for a moment, staring down at your menu, trying to figure out how to salvage this. “I… like chips?” you offered, the words feeling ridiculous as soon as they left your mouth.

Viktor blinked, clearly caught off guard, before a small laugh bubbled up from his chest. The sound was warm and genuine, cutting through the tension between you. You couldn’t help but laugh too, the absurdity of it all breaking the ice.

“Chips?” Viktor chuckled, his eyes crinkling with amusement. “You’re full of surprises.”

“Hey, don’t judge,” you shot back, still grinning. “It’s the simple things. Who doesn’t like chips?”

Viktor’s smile softened as the awkwardness between you began to melt away. He leaned back slightly in his chair, looking at you with a glimmer of something less guarded in his eyes. First, he spoke your name with exagerrated sincerity. Then, he took a deep breath, his voice a little more serious now, but still light. “Would you like to get a beer and fish & chips with me?”

Your heart skipped a beat. It was simple. It was perfect. You let out a soft, relieved laugh. “I thought you’d never ask,” you said, your voice lighter, warmer.

Viktor’s smile deepened, the weight of the evening’s tension finally starting to ease. “I’ll take that as a yes,” he said, leaning forward just enough to meet your eyes. “Should we run then? I’m low-key scared of that waiter,” he whispered loudly into your ear, leaning over the table.

You nodded eagerly and stood up from your seat. “Do you need some assistance in walking, sir?”

Viktor snorted at your weak attempt to mock the waiter’s accent, stood up, and pulled you under his shoulder, leaning his weight on you. “Yes, I’m afraid you will have to carry me to our next destination.”

*

“Hmm, that’s it. I’m planning our dates from now on,” you sighed, clearly pleased with yourself and the dinner you were eating out of the newspaper.

“Is that so? Bossing me around already?” Viktor hooked his arm around your shoulder. The two of you sat on the bench next to the fish and chips shop, and it was unbearably cold. You were wearing only a silly dress and a coat with no scarf or gloves because you had no idea what to wear and had left in a hurry. And he knew it.

“Are you complaining?” you asked, your words muffled as you were still chewing. You shot him a look, as if challenging him, though it would have been perfectly reasonable to complain—he had fallen only once, and only because he was trying not to. As usual, the moment led him to a more significant answer to a more significant question.

“No,” Viktor deadpanned. No, he wasn’t.

“That’s it? No?” You nuzzled closer into his arm, still eating. The vinegar made your nose burn—your other source of warmth, aside from Viktor.

“Eh, I am slowly accepting my fate,” he shrugged, completely unfazed. “It’s not going to be normal, is it?” It was more of a statement than a question, mused into the cold air. It made him feel warmer, though he had no idea what normal even was.

“No. Not in my nature. Also—who are you to demand normal?” You snorted, thinking of how weird the last three months had been, how weird your parents were, and wondering if it wasn’t just you who was not normal, but actually weird, in a way.

“I’m not demanding. As I said—I am slowly accepting my fate.” And it was the truth. Slowly, his fate was facing acceptance. Or rather, rapidly, as it had already been accepted and settled in his head: no other way from that point forward was possible for him.

“It must be terrible, to carry such a burden.” You let out a long sigh, intending to mock him but lacking any real bite in the end. You tried to eat your last chip but faltered and dropped it idly back into the newspaper.

“You have no idea.” You haven’t got the faintest fucking idea.

***

“Come on, last chapter,” Viktor nudged your elbow. Your head was resting limply against his desk, your hands hanging at your sides.

“I am never asking you again,” you groaned. It was so late, the letters had stopped making sense a long time ago. “I miss Sue.” It was meant as a joke, but you almost wept at the memory of you and Sue saying, “fuck it” and going to bed when you studied together.

“Don’t be such a baby. People would kill to have me as a study buddy.” Viktor leaned in and placed his hand on your neck. It was warm and made you even sleepier.

“I hope they kill me,” you said, lifting yourself up and slumping your hands onto his shoulders to look him dead in the eye. It was no joke.

“Please, I’ll feed you anything you want after that.”

You blinked at him absentmindedly. “Are you expecting me to say something very specific now?” Your eyebrow shot up, as if the dots had magically connected themselves. You weren’t going to say it, though—your mouth was dry, and your eyes were tearing up from exhaustion.

“I wasn’t. Now I am.” Viktor shrugged, his lips curling into a smile as he watched you like this. “Stop this; distraction won’t save you.” As if you could pull anything like that off right now.

“Viktor, how about begging? I am so. Tired. I beg you; I need to splay myself flat or I will die,” you whined theatrically, dropping to your knees before him, your hands gripping his thighs.

“You should switch departments,” he chuckled at your desperation. It was much cuter than Jayce throwing books at him in the exact same setup. “But, eh, I guess it’s fine. What time is the exam?”

Which was why he faltered. You had no idea how many things you could’ve asked.

“11. Yes—” You raised your head and looked up at him. He was already opening his mouth to say that you should revise in the morning, though his smile was saying something else.

“I will revise in the morning.” You smiled softly, almost whispering. I love you for this.

“It’s settled then. Will you stay?” He held out his hands to help you up.

“Viktor, I can barely move. I’m no use here now.” You took his hands, though you tried to get up using as much of your own strength as possible.

“To sleep, you degenerate,” he scoffed, still smiling. “To splay yourself flat and sleep, instead of, I don’t know... dying.” Stay, stay, stay.

“Yes.” You nodded many times to emphasize how much you were staying. I also love you for this. You could cry if you weren’t so tired. You almost did when he gave you a spare toothbrush, a towel, his boxer shorts, and his green jumper to sleep in. You smelled entirely of Viktor now, and you decided that any other smell stunk.

You sank into the mattress, tangling yourself around him like a snake—your thigh between his legs, his bad leg propped on your hip. Your arms wrapped around his waist, fists clutching his sleeping T-shirt with I ♥ Jayce Tallis written on it, your face pressed against his neck, as if your own smell of Viktor wasn’t enough smell of Viktor.

His hand rested in the small of your back, the other splayed under your head. He spoke your name softly.

Silence. Only breathing. He fumbled for his phone on the bedside table to set the alarm. 7 AM—you were going to have his head for this.

He whispered your name again, this time to himself. I am rapidly falling in love with you. You had stayed the night.

[newkatzkafe2023]

HOW 'BOUT A WUKONG X READER WHO IS BASICALLY HARU FROM BEASTARS, SHE'S A CUTE PRETTY BUNNY WHO STRUGGLES WITH BULLYING/INFERIORITY ISSUES DUE TO THE FACT THAT SHE'S A MISUNDERSTOOD STRONG GIRL( EITHER SHE'S SEEN AS A WHORE BY WOMEN OR AS A TOY TO PROTECT BY MEN WICH IS SOMETHING SHE HATES)

I never watched beastars, but I like her character especially when she stuck to muzuchi 😈

(Lmk Wukong) You guys have something very special between the two of you. Wukong loves and respects your honesty and truth to yourself more than anyone, especially when he himself has to deal with judgment. You never hesitate to stand up for him as much as you stand up for yourself, and he never says anything about your past sexual nature. All of that is your business, but what he loves the most is your bravery and kindness. Their were times when you protected Mk and stood up to the celestials about the harbinger of chaos bullsh*t, and that was something Wukong could never get over. Overall, Wukong loves you and hopes you never stop being true to yourself.

(MKR Wukong) Oh my gosh, you guys would be perfect together, Wukong loves how you can clearly defend yourself. Though he would only step in when your in physical danger, which shocked you. Wukong doesn't Patronize you or treat you like a toy, you are his wife and queen and he respects your strength and bravery. You didn't know how to feel for once but you appreciate it especially when your short-tempers tend to go hand in hand.

(NR Wukong) He loves how true you are to yourself very similar to himself, you both don't care for others opinions. Wukong love how unapologetic you are and kind to everyone, you carefree nature that help Li and Su open up right away to you. You enjoy all your conversations and outings you do together, even getting Wukong to join you. You are honest to a fault and you even stood up for Li whenever Ao Bing would try to bully Him. You wouldn't hesitate to support and help them, and Wukong loved you for it.

(HIB Wukong) You both have somethings in common, you both don't take sh*t for anyone. Though you also keep each other at w distance when you both started dating but for different reasons. He had absolutely no opinion on your promiscuity because that's both the past and your business, and with that you saw a that Wukong was a good match for you. You love Luier and Silly girl too as your child like traits join together in joy.

(Netflix Wukong) When you both met Wukong was immediately tookin back by how kind and carefree you were to him. You also don't hesitate to stand up for him and Lin as people would judge or bully them, your kindness never ending. Though you would be tell the truth to Wukong about how you feel about, his recklessness or impulsive Decision making. However not in a tone of judgment but in a way that shows how worried you are about him. Wukong ever since he met Lin, that he would have someone else care about him like that.

(BMW Wukong) Now this is kinda tricky to explain, Wukong respects your honesty and bravery but he still feels that you need to be protected. Not because of your size or status but because he has alot of enemies that will hurt you physically. Wukong loves your emotional strength and bravery, joining him. He also laughs whenever you talk back to the big bad Celestials, but anyway you both will always have each other's backs.

(Destined one) You guys are a dream team together, the brain and brawn duo. The Destined one you felt like you can easily open up to as he seems to have a slow reaction time. Though the Destined one does get worried about you, as your bravery against enemies bigger than you two combined as your protection over your husband overrides your fear. I also feel the Destined one shares your bluntness and resilience as you both won't see the point of lying to yourselves, and it can be humorous, by the way. You're still taller than Bajie as though.

FEEL FREE TO REBLOG🐇

[evangeleilee]

CLOSER, akaashi keiji x fem! reader

it wasn’t enough to have just their legs and limbs entangled—their souls, too.

entry for @phantasmaebg.

trope: established relationship

genre: fluff

word count: 919

It was one of those cold nights of December where warmth was a scarce thing.

The turbulent winds of the storm outside banged on the windowpane, seeping through the narrow gaps, making their presence known like an uninvited guest as the curtains fluttered. Coldness aerated the space of their bedroom, the air making contact with her pallid skin, kissing it with an icy blow that was anything but delicate, making her flinch and bury herself under the thick, quilted blankets. But there were no hints of warmth even cradled under the weight of supposed comfort.

She didn’t like winter.

The world covered in white was something she dreaded to see the most, snowfall inundating her vision whenever she stepped outside, and the ground either buried in snow or coated with ice, making it hard to walk on. Anyone could freeze to death for staying out too long. Unforgiving were the frostbites, mistaken as a lover's gentle kiss at first; then they pierced through your skin with a thousand needle-like icicles, creeping into the bones to spread their glacial poison. Imprisoning herself inside the comforts of their home didn’t make her hate the season less either; if anything, her disdain ran deeper.

And if anything, it only made her toss and turn under the sheets a lot more.

Frustrated, she tossed the duvet aside, peeling it off her body. She sat up, her elbows resting on her knees, palms pressing against her tightly shut eyes a bit too hard. She dragged her hands down to the lower part of her face, her fingers sliding deliberately like she was trying to wipe something away utterly disgusting—like the uneasiness that clung to her thoughts, unapologetically, as though it were a vice. Her gaze trailed up to the window, where muted silver light filtered through. The storm outside had already calmed down, tamed—a contrast to her inner turmoil, whirlwinds causing devastation within the confines of her skull.

Not long after, a weight other than her own shifted beside her, halting her in place when she felt a hand rest on the curve of her neck. There was something about it that was familiar, something she craved, a surge of warmth through her veins, pulsating throughout her body with a burning ache.

Warm, she melted to the touch.

“Hey, are you okay?” Akaashi asked, his voice akin to a melody of ringing church bells on a Sunday, playing with tremor. Mellifluous, a serenade her ears would never grow tired of hearing.

“Cold,” she replied hurriedly, almost like a whisper, but Akaashi was able to make out her answer as he hummed, confirming that he had heard her. Akaashi's weight shifted once more. This time, a little closer to her, and she could feel his breathing near her neck.

She waited for him to talk again, but instead, she felt a soft pressure on his chin resting on her shoulder. Then, he slipped an arm around her waist, pulling her toward him until her back was pressed against his chest.

“Keiji,” she uttered, but as soon as his name left her lips, she was unsure of what to say next. It was as if the words died on the tip of her tongue before they could even get caught between her teeth and slip past her lips.

Her hands fidgeted in her lap, a restless motion that didn’t go unnoticed under Akaashi’s scrutiny. Ever so subtly, he guided his hand toward hers until his fingers brushed the back of her hand, the contact leaving goosebumps on her skin. She let his fingers slip into hers, the warmth of his palm pressing gently against her own.

She squeezed his hand. Three times.

He squeezed back. Four times.

“Come back to bed?” His voice was soft, barely above a whisper, but there was something in the way he said it—pleading, tender—that made her know she was a goner. His words hung up in the air, hauntingly so. They lingered far too long, or maybe it was the pauses that prolonged them.

“I don’t know, Keiji,” she started meekly, finally finding her voice and somewhat trusting in her ability to coax herself into speaking. “I can’t sleep.”

“Just let me hold you,” there was this desperation in his voice that was enough for her to cave in. “Please?”

She took a good lungful of cold air, holding it in for a moment before releasing it from its momentary captivity. “Okay.”

She lay back in bed with Akaashi, their legs, their limbs tangled under the sheets, the steady rhythm of their breaths filling the silence. The bedroom suddenly felt too small for the two of them, the walls pressing in closer, and closer with each passing second, as if the space itself couldn’t contain the gravity of it all. Akaashi felt an ache in his chest that spread throughout his body like wildfire, a longing to feel her warmth seeping into his skin and into his veins like the blood that kept him alive.

It wasn’t enough to have just their legs and limbs entangled—their souls, too.

“Keiji?”

Akaashi could only faintly hum when he heard her calling out his name, almost like a lullaby lulling him to sleep. His eyes were closed, but he didn’t need to open them to know she was there. He knew she was there, he could feel her, holding her like the world was ending tomorrow, and she wasn’t going anywhere. She was with him.

“Hold me closer,” she whispered.

And he did.

[crimsonender]

Anyway just wanna spread some positivity to my colleagues in the wake of Things. I love talking to Sai and Anthony because they're both really funny, witty, intelligent people. We all come from different walks of life and have different opinions and I feel like we challenge each other to grow and learn, and they offer me different perspectives on things I often take for granted without making me feel small. Sai is incredibly brave and outspoken and I value her perspective as a gay person with more life experience than myself and she made me feel more comfortable being unapologetic about my autism. Anthony always has the best thing to say in any given situation and has such a wealth of knowledge of so many things. If Anthony doesn't know something he *will* find out.

I really love working with them and I'm glad they're a part of my life! Thank you @agramuglia and @saiscribbles for being freakin' sweet

[animamii]

highschoolsweetheart!eren continuing his Justin Bieber dance proposal tradition Sophomore year. The first time had gone slightly viral around your school and garnered a few thousand views. His “Baby” performance had become a running joke among your friends, and you couldn’t set foot in the quad without someone teasing, “When’s the next show, y/n?” You would always laugh it off, even though the memory made your heart flutter. There was something undeniably sweet about the way Eren had thrown himself into it, even if he couldn’t quite hit the choreography like Justin did. After all, your best friend was still that goofy kid who could barely pass Phys Ed.

The Spring dance had finally rolled around, with girls being asked with those cute, cheesy posters with creative puns about favorite movies and such. It seemed like there was at least one dance proposal every passing period. You'd watch, an audible 'awee' and smile on your face as you'd walk by. It started to make you wonder if Eren was going to ask you to the dance again. The two of you weren't officially boyfriend/girlfriend. Still just two best friends who had feelings for each other and too afraid to straight up admit it. Pussies.

Still, you wondered if he would ask. Days pass by, no dance proposal. Not one question out of his mouth asking what color dress you were wearing, not one peep about being extra and renting one of those limo's, even if it is just the spring formal. No hints. No teasing. Eren had been unusually quiet the past few days, which was saying something for a guy whose every thought usually tumbled out of his mouth unfiltered. His odd behavior didn’t go unnoticed by your friends, either. “He’s planning something,” Sasha says, mouth full of pizza, nudging you with a grin. “You just know he’s gonna top last year.”

"I don't think he's gonna ask me this year," you sigh, chin in your palm as you look into the distance. It's lunchtime, with you sitting at your usual lunch table. "Usually he teases me about it and makes a whole spectacle, only able to talk about the dance and how cute we're gonna look. But this time? Radio silence."

Sasha squints at you, chewing thoughtfully. “Hmm, that is weird for Eren. The guy’s basically a walking megaphone when it comes to you.” So much for Sasha trying to reassure you, huh.

“I don’t know,” you mumble, poking at your burrito bowl mindlessly. “Maybe he’s just not feeling it this year. Or maybe he’s, like… over it? I mean, it’s not like we’re…together. Maybe he’s moved on.” You hated how your voice cracked a little at the end.

Mikasa, sitting across from you, raises a brow and lets out a soft snort. “Eren? Moving on from you? Not likely.” Now that had got your hopes up again. Maybe a little too up. Mikasa’s words hung in the air, and you tried not to read too much into them. After all, she was Eren’s sister. She’d know if he was up to something…right? But the doubt didn’t go away. You spent the rest of the day trying to distract yourself with schoolwork and gossip, but your mind kept wandering back to Eren and his strange behavior. He had always been loud, animated, and—when it came to you—unapologetically over the top. It wasn’t like him to hold back, and the change was starting to get under your skin.

The rest of the week crawled by at a snail’s pace, and you couldn’t shake the unease settling in your chest. Eren was still around, still Eren, but he felt distant in a way that was unfamiliar. You hated overthinking—it wasn’t like you had any claim to him—but your mind kept spinning with questions you didn’t dare voice out loud.

On Tuesday, you walked into school bracing for another uneventful day. The Spring dance was now just a few days away, and with every cheesy proposal you passed in the halls, your hope dimmed a little more. Maybe Sasha was wrong. Maybe Mikasa was just being her cryptic self. Maybe Eren really wasn’t going to ask you this year.

By lunchtime, you’d all but convinced yourself that Eren wasn’t going to ask you. Eren’s silence, the lack of his usual over-the-top antics—it all settled heavily on your chest. You tried to convince yourself it wasn’t a big deal. Maybe he was just busy, or maybe this was the year he’d decided to keep things low-key. But even as you repeated those excuses in your head, a small voice whispered doubts. Maybe he really wasn’t going to ask you. Maybe he’d gotten bored of the whole thing. Maybe he’d gotten bored of you.

Sasha was the first to call you out. “You’re sulking,” she said bluntly, mouth full of lasagna as she pointed her fork at you. “It’s not a good look, y/n.” yeah, neither is talking with a mouth full of food.

Your head snapped up, cheeks flushing with indignation. “I’m not sulking,” you protested, though the slump of your shoulders and the way you’d been picking at your pasta suggested otherwise. You always swore you didn't give two craps about silly school dances, yet here you were.

“She’s totally sulking,” Ymir chimed in, pulling her sunglasses down to the tip of her nose to get a better view of that sad puppy dog look you wore. She grinned mischievously, clearly relishing in your discomfort. “Don’t worry, y/n. Maybe someone else will ask you. I hear Marco’s still single.” Historia elbows her girlfriend, giving her that look that mothers give their kids when they say stupid things.

The glare you shot her could’ve melted steel. “Gee, thanks, Ymir. That’s exactly what I needed to hear.” You gave the freckled brunette a sarcastic smile, eyes still narrowed in saltiness.

Sasha snickered, and even Mikasa, who rarely involved herself in your drama, let out a quiet huff of amusement. She was sitting across from you, her expression calm and unreadable as always. But there was a faint glimmer in her eyes that suggested she was finding this whole situation mildly entertaining.

“Leave her alone,” Mikasa said, her voice soft but firm. “Eren’s not dumb enough to let this dance go by without asking her.”

Her words hit like a spark of hope, though you were quick to extinguish it. “He’s been acting so weird lately,” you muttered, pushing your food around your tray. “It’s like he doesn’t even care about the dance this year. Usually, by now, he’s already annoying me with ideas for matching outfits or telling me how he's gonna ask the dj to play our favorite song and I better dance with him.”

“Maybe he’s planning something epic,” Sasha suggested, wiggling her eyebrows dramatically. “Like a flash mob or fireworks. You know Eren, he doesn’t do anything halfway.”

You sighed, dropping your chin into your palm. “Or maybe he’s not planning anything at all,” you said, the words tasting bitter on your tongue. “Maybe he’s just… over it. Over me.”

The table went quiet for a moment, and you instantly regretted saying it out loud. You hated how vulnerable it made you feel, like you were exposing a part of yourself you usually kept hidden. Mikasa was the first to break the silence, letting a laugh of a scoff out with her usual passively amused look.

"Are you intentionally being whiny and delusional?" she said, her brow arching slightly as if the idea was utterly laughable. "Eren could never be over you. Not in this lifetime." Her tone was calm, deliberate, and edged with a certainty that should’ve reassured you. But it only made you feel more exposed.

You glanced at her, searching for any sign of sarcasm or teasing, but Mikasa’s expression was as steady and unshakable as ever. She wasn’t the type to say things she didn’t mean, and yet… doubt still lingered in the back of your mind. She was Eren’s sister, after all. If anyone knew what he was up to, it was her. But would she actually tell you if he was planning something? Or would she keep his secrets, leaving you to wallow in uncertainty?

“Whatever,” you mumbled, averting your eyes and resting your forehead against the table. “Can we please not talk about this anymore?”

The conversation reluctantly shifted, though you could feel your friends exchanging knowing glances. Historia began ranting about something Ymir had done the day before, with Ymir trying to defend herself and Sasha laughing so hard she almost falls over, but their voices faded into the background. You nodded when needed, forced a laugh when necessary, but your heart wasn’t in it. All you could think about was Eren—why he’d been so distant lately and why it stung so much that he hadn’t asked you yet.

Finally, it was the end of the school day, and oh were you ready to go home and demolish some ice cream and watch cheesy prom rom coms to ease (or add to) the pain. Dragging your feet through the school parking lot, your eyes are glued to the asphalt as you half listen to Sasha rambling about being a judge for the school's bake off. That is until you hear a commotion.

"What the hell is that?" Sasha points to a crowd, students bunched up making a spectacle of something. Was it a fight? Some kid get too drunk and start puking? Or another stupidly cheesy dance proposal that would make you feel sick/

"What the fuck is everyone looking at?" You hear Ymir shout as her and Historia walk up behind you. All you can do is shrug, getting on your tip toes to try and get a better view.

You squint, trying to see just what the commotion was. "I can't even tell." The crowd is growing, cheers and laughter echoing across the parking lot. A few phones are already out, cameras flashing as everyone jockeys for the best view. You feel your stomach flip—somehow, you already know this has something to do with Eren.

“Y/n, you better get over there,” Mikasa says, nudging your shoulder with a sly smirk that practically screams I know something you don’t. You don't know where the hell she came from, but you listen.

“What?” you ask, though your legs are already moving, curiosity outweighing your hesitation. You weave through the gathering crowd, muttering apologies as you brush past classmates who are grinning and whispering like they’re in on some huge secret.

And then you see it.

Eren dressed in a black tee, silver dog tag around his neck, gray jeans, and white high top air forces. You already know what song he's about to perform just from the outfit alone. It’s classic Eren— in the middle of a makeshift circle trying to channel Justin Bieber’s vibe but somehow making it infinitely more chaotic. Behind him, Jean's truck speakers blasting the unmistakable opening chords of "Love Me.”

Your jaw drops. "Oh my god." Heart fluttering, you smile. Of course Eren didn't move on. Eren grins when he spots you, his green eyes bright and mischievous. He raises a hand dramatically, signaling the crowd to part just enough for him to lock eyes with you.

“Y/n!” he calls out, his voice carrying over the music. This time he has one of those Bluetooth microphones, pink and lighting up with those cheap RGB lights. “This one’s for you!” In classic Eren fashion, he does a high jump off of the back of Jean's truck bed as he belts out the beginning lyrics.

"My friends said I'm a fool to think that you're the one for me. I guess I'm just a sucker for love~"

His hands form a heart in front of his chest as he does a back shuffle, which you see Jean nodding in approval to, his own feet doing the back step in sync. Connie is sitting on the top of Jean's truck, phone in hand as he waves his phone and nods his head along to the beat. He has another microphone, singing the backing vocals.

" 'Cause honestly the truth is that you know I'm never leavin', 'cause you're my angel sent from above"

Eren's points an arm up to the air before doing a backflip, which he lands.... Barely. The landing is a bit sloppy, with him having to take another step to ensure he doesn't trip or fall. The crowd gasps, but shouts when he shows he's okay.

“Oh my god, he’s insane,” you mumble, burying your face in your hands for a second, though you can’t stop peeking between your fingers. This boy will literally risk almost breaking his neck if it would make you smile.

“Insanely in love with you,” Sasha teases, nudging you with her elbow as she laughs.

“Shut up,” you mutter, though you’re barely paying attention to her. Your focus is entirely on Eren as he jumps back onto Jean’s truck bed, spinning in place as he belts out another verse.

"Baby, you can do no wrong. My money is yours, give you a little more because I love ya!"

Money flutters through the air, Eren tossing two handfuls as he sings the line. It rains down, with students rushing to grab it before they look at it with a disappointed groan and dropping it. You pick some bills up, the green paper saying 'Eren Buckz' with a picture of Eren winking in the middle. Just how much effort did this boy put into this? You giggle and stuff the fake money into your binder's clear front sleeve.

"With me, girl is where you belong. Just stay right here, I promise my dear put nothing above ya!"

Suddenly you're scooped into a folding chair. Looking back, you see Armin give you a sheepish smile as he makes sure you're comfortable in the chair. Eren slides off the truck bed, getting on his knees right in front of you and taking your hand, placing a kiss to your knuckles and a cocky wink. He skips back to the middle just as the chorus starts.

"Love me, love me. Say that you love me."

In tandem Eren, Jean, Armin, and Connie do a little choreographed routine. Hands making hearts on their chests, shuffling their feet in that 2010's fashion. You hear Sasha shouting at Connie, calling him the biggest dork although Connie is feeling himself, winking at some girl who's watching. Armin gets along, busy staring at his feet as he sloppily tries to coordinate his moves with the rest of the boys. And Jean, being the one who most definitely put this dance together, is doing this like it's his second nature, never missing a beat and honestly probably stealing all the thunder.

Then Eren starts to do the damn cat daddy and spongebob, somehow doing it with such swagger that you're actually pretty impressed. His feet move with a liquid swiftness, and he pops his imaginary collar just how Justin does.

“I didn’t teach him that move,” Jean mutters, loud enough for you to hear as he shakes his head and facepalms. Although deep down Jean is proud of his friend's dance moves.

"My heart is blind, but I don't care. Cause when I'm with you everything has disappeared. And every time I hold you near, I never wanna let you go."

Eren pulls you up from your seat, taking your binder and setting it down as he twirls you around. A flurry of giggles leaves your lips as you get dizzy. He catches you, dipping you as he looks at you with those dazzling emerald eyes of his. How could you ever doubt that this boy was over you?

Armin and Connie rush behind you two, pulling out a giant banner painted to say, "Tell me what I wanna hear and say yes to the Spring Fling". It was definitely Mikasa's handiwork, being too neat to be Eren's writing.

“Y/n,” he says, voice soft from singing too loud, but his voice still carries over the music. “Will you let me take you to the dance? Because you’re the only one I’d ever make a fool like this for.” He has the cutest grin on his face, so enamored that the moment is solely you two.

The crowd “aww’s” as the song fades into its final beats. Your heart stutters, heat rushing to your face as every eye lands on you. But there’s only one pair of eyes you care about—bright, earnest green, watching you like you’re the only person in the world.

You can't help but smile, your heart beating a million miles a minute as if you were the one doing the insane dance routine. “Only if you promise to never stop being this ridiculous.”

He wraps you in a dramatic hug, lifting you slightly off the ground as the crowd cheers around you. “Deal,” he says, his voice warm and certain. “Wouldn’t know how to stop even if I tried.”

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵ ˚₊₊˚ ‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊

Part uno is right hereeee

I literally loveee this series idk why i love high school sweetheart Eren. If y'all have requests, thoughts, head canons send them in so we can swoon over the cutie together. love yalllll

[nighting-crow]

Modded Followers (plus Crow) as Incorrect Quotes

Remiel: I told Taliesin to grab snacks for everyone. Xelzaz, looking through the options: Why did you grab fruit snacks? Are you five? Who even likes Fruit Snacks? Remiel, Taliesin, and Khash raise their hands Eris: What time is it? Auri: I don’t know, pass me that saxaphone and we’ll find out Auri: BLASTS the saxaphone Taliesin: WHO THE FUCK IS PLAYING THE SAXAPHONE AT TWO IN THE FUCKING MORNING?! Auri: It’s 2 am Nebarra: Some people are like slinkies. Gabrielle: What? Nebarra: Not really good for much but bring a smile to your face when you push them down the stairs. Gabrielle: Gabrielle: Please don't push Remiel down the stairs. Nebarra, pushing Remiel down the stairs: Too late. Auri: Dandelions symbolize everything I want to be in life. Lucien: Fluffy and dead with a gust of wind? Auri: Unapologetic. Hard to kill. Feral, filled with sunlight, bright, beautiful in a way that the conventional and controlling hate but cannot ever fully destroy. Stubborn. Happy. Bastardous. Friends with bees. Highly disapproving of lawns. Full of wishes that will be carried far after I die. Taliesin: Edible. Eris: Is there something you would like to say, Nebarra? Nebarra: Oh, there are SEVERAL things I would like to say. Gabrielle: When do you usually go to sleep? Crow: Whenever I collapse is entirely up to the gods.

Inigo: Hey, can I get a sip of that water? Eris: It’s not water. Inigo: Vodka! I like your sty- Eris: It’s vinegar. Inigo: …What? Eris: It's vinegar, PUSSY. Taliesin: How high are you? Crow: Mm, I don’t know how to say it in feet. Gore: No, he's asking what drugs are you on. Crow: Oh, antidepressants, why? Auri: The Ocean is a soup. Xelzaz: Xelzaz: Do elaborate. Auri: What are needed for something to be a soup? Xelzaz: Erm... Water, salt, some form of vegetation, and personally I prefer some meat in mine. Auri: Tilts head Xelzaz: The Ocean is a Soup. Auri: The Ocean is a Soup. Lucien: Let's all agree that going up the stairs on all fours is actually the best experience on earth. Gore: Conversely, going down the stairs on all fours is actually the most terrifying experience on earth. Lucifer: You have Crayons? Crow: Yes, I have— Lucifer: You're— how old are you? Crow: YES I AM AN ADULT AND I HAVE CRAYONS, I HAVE A BOX OF EMERGENCY CRAYONS IN THE CABINET UNDER THE TV BECAUSE EVERYBODY NEEDS CRAYONS SOMETIMES, OKAY? EVERYBODY NEEDS CRAYONS. Auri: You remind me of the ocean. Gabrielle: Because I'm deep and mysterious? Auri: No, because you're full of salt and you scare people. Inigo: Lol. Heads up if you try to make a candle with food coloring, the food coloring will just sink to the bottom of the glass, and when the flame eventually reaches the bottom all the food coloring will catch fire and become one giant tall flame that you cannot possibly blow out and the glass will start to crack and then you’ll throw your tea on it in a panic and then the extremely hot food coloring will boil and sizzle horribly and then the glass will shatter. Please take my word on this. Gabrielle: What did you do Inigo? Inigo: a Mistake.

Gore, holding an unconscious Auri: Oh no. Please don’t be dead. Gabrielle: Nebarra told me that brown is just navy orange, and I have never been more disappointed with something I agree with. Lucien, setting down a card: Ace of spades. Nebarra, pulling out an Uno card: +4. Khash, pulling out a Pokémon card: Jolteon, I choose you! Gabrielle, trembling: What are we playing?! Lucifer: Is stabbing someone immoral? Remiel: Not if they consent to it. Eris: Depends on who your stabbing. Xelzaz: YES??!!? Kaidan (specifically about Gabrielle escaping the Deadlands): Did you win? Or just not die? Kaidan: Either way, hooray. Gabrielle: ...Is "no" a valid answer? Kaidan: The hooray is redacted and you frighten me. Crow: Good morning! Kaidan, checking his watch: Correct. Xelzaz: Adults are the most insanely stupid people I have the displeasure of interacting with. Nebarra, referring to himself and Auri: Even us? Xelzaz: Especially you guys. Auri: Nebarra: Auri: Petition to kick Xelzaz out so he stops insulting us. Nebarra: Seconded. Crow, singing to the tune of I Kissed a Girl: I killed a guy, and I liked it- Inigo, whispering: Should we call the exorcist? Khash, also singing: The taste of his cherry chapstick. Ashe, appalled: Call the exorcist.

[onehundredelevven]

Mr. Chopped x reader!! Please I'm starving! Maybe spicy if you're comfy with that but if you're not fluff is always amazing too <3 I love that severed head so much

Here u go babes

☆☆☆

Mr. Chopped had never been particularly shy about invading your personal space, and you're okay with it. He didn’t exactly have much space of his own, after all. So when he boldly declared, “Me… lay here,” before nestling himself on your chest, you didn’t even have time to argue.

“Chopped, you can’t just—”

“Shhh.” His voice was soft, almost teasing. “Me comfy.”

You blinked down at him, his head perfectly balanced as he rested against you. His weight wasn’t much, but the audacity? Heavy.

“Don’t you think this is… a little uncomfortable for you?” you asked, raising a brow, though your tone lacked any real bite.

“uncom—what?” His face scrunched in mock confusion. “This good spot. Warm. Soft. Me deserve.”

“You deserve?” you echoed, trying to suppress a laugh. “And what exactly have you done to earn this?”

He grinned, smug and unapologetic. “Me charming. You like me.”

Your cheeks warmed at his bluntness. “You’re impossible,” you muttered, though your hand instinctively came up to rest against his cheek.

He leaned into the touch with an exaggerated sigh. “See? You care. You… spoil me.”

“You’re lucky you’re cute,” you teased, gently running your fingers through his hair.

“Lucky?” he repeated, his grin softening into something sweeter. “No. Me… happiest head. You best.”

The sincerity in his voice made your heart squeeze. “Chopped…”

“Shhh,” he murmured again, though this time it was almost shy. “No talk. Just stay. Me like this.”

And so you did, letting him stay nestled against you, his presence both ridiculous and comforting. You couldn’t help but smile, thinking that maybe he was right—he did deserve this.

[that1notetaker]

I love and hate Severus Snape in equal measures. Also, Harry Potter would have been 100% better if he was actually a vampire but only the teachers and the golden trio knew for sure. He would mess around with the students on purpose and listen to their weird theories to further mess with them. Minerva would think it's funny on the inside and would only tell him off occasionally.

[ehhlien]

Armand killing Claudia and allowing Louis to kill his flock so that the two of them can live happily ever after is so manipulative.. but also reminded me of Lestat going out of his way to keep Claudia with them in New Orleans because he saw first hand what losing Claudia did to Louis, and he never wanted Louis to be in that state again. Both men are obsessed with Louis and beg for his attention, but went about it two completely different ways. And it costs one of them their lives, because they never thought to consider simply getting along with Claudia or trying to keep peace with her.

Both men are manipulative and selfish, but at the end of the day, Lestat has always been genuine about wanting Louis to be happy, even at his own expense.

[to-the-all-blue]

On my walk home from the cafe I was thinking about Sanji (as one does) and how every influence in his life for 19 years screamed at him to hunker down, stay silent, and never appear weak.

As much as I love Zeff and know he loved Sanji, it's clear he has such a straight-laced and unflinching view of masculinity and what it means to be a man. The environment on the Baratie was an extension of that.

It was a machismo world where affection was hidden behind kicks to the head and insults. The kind of environment where cutting your hand or something gets a response of "what? You call that an injury? Don't cry over nothing". Where outright kindness has to be dragged out of people, and then immediately covered up with a half-baked insult.

Throw into that environmemt a little boy who is desperate to prove he's not the failure he was told he was, and out pops a man who wears his heart on his sleeve for "acceptable manly emotions" but who hides real emotions behind anger, and hides pain (physical or emotional) altogether so as not to seem weak.

Tack onto that the idea that the only surefire way to show love is through self sacrifice (his mom + Zeff), then of course Sanji will be all sorts of jacked up.

We see throughout the series how Sanji is so unwilling to be vulnerable or to even admit he's feeling hurt at all. Plaster a smile on, make some comment about loving women, and voila! He's the man's man everyone expects. No need to worry about him. After all: he's strong.

...🥺

[miraculan-draws]

The artistic decision for Louis to have no regional accent beyond "nebulously American" ONLY in the Dubai penthouse...with the NOLA accent returning immediately upon leaving...Jacob your mind

[harrowscore]

why are you, as an adult in 2024, still hung up on reylo. why are you still mocking the shippers. why do you believe yourself to be superior only because you dislike a stupid ship from a fucking space fairytale. girl (gnc) get a grip

[edge-oftheworld]

while we’re in the spirit of celebrating basic autonomy over things like hair I know most of us are too young to have participated in anything at the time but as a society we really need to apologise to britney for a certain event circa 2007

[dirtbra1n]

yeah so about ichinose.

if there’s one thing harusono is gonna do it’s give characters identifying marks

like I really don’t think there’s anything profound to say here it’s just like. ahhhh I’m sending you psychic beams you’ll understand. basically I’m wondering though The hell happened in the year since this happened

gayass..