#and no one has seen his 'true' face. or rather no one has seen it and survived the fact

[777rare]

ASTROLOGY OBSERVATIONS PT. 7

THESE NOTES ARE ONLY A STUDY OF MINE AND HAS/HAS NOT BEEN PROVEN YET, SO IF IT DOES NOT RESONATE WITH YOU, FORGIVE ME AS IT WAS ONLY A STUDY/OBSERVATION OF MINE.

I DO NOT PLAGIARIZE, COPY OR REWORD ANY OF MY FELLOW ASTROLOGY OBSERVERS POSTS AND I DEMAND THE SAME IN RETURN.

Also, trigger warning, I have mentioned s**ual harr**ment. You can skip the 6th point in this post if you are sensitive to these things.

• Taurus mercury natives have such elegant voices. My bestfriend has this placement too and my god, her voice is just so feminine and sweet you know, like it has a feminine touch, so soft and relaxing to listen to. Oh, these natives also sing beautifully, it just comes so naturally to them.🤌🥴

• Moon in 5th house individuals get into a lot of relationships in a lifetime. Most of them are unsteady and shortlived. This also makes the native end up in a lot of situationships. One of my friend has this and she faced this a lot too.😕

• My male friend has moon in 4rth house and he values his mother like a 100%.🤯 He always values her opinion on the decisions he makes. He really loves her. The same effect takes place with all men having moon in the 4rth house.😊

• This is just an observation of mine, just a reminder so if this does not relate with you, I apologise.🙏 I have observed that people whose ascendant falls on the 12th house don't really get seen by people as their ascendant. Rather they are seen first as the sign overlaying the 1st house.

>This happens as the native grows up. As children they behaved very much like their ascendant sign but mostly due to being taunted, commented on and so on, they began to hide this part of themselves (which explains the ascendant lying in the 12th house) and then they begin wearing the 1st house sign as a shield that hides what they actually are on the inside.😔😒

>The 12th house represents mainly what is hidden from everyone, mostly because of underlying fear of judgement and not meeting the expectations of others. So the ascendant overlaying here really explains a lot to us.

>For example:

✓ a few of my friends have this in their chart and they've told me how they behaved as kids but changed due to the reasons I mentioned above. The 5th house🤰does give us a picture of how our childhood was but this played a role too.

✓ Like one of my friend has her sagittarius ascendant in the 12th house. As a kid she was always jumping, could not sit still in one place, always laughed and so on but as she grew up, due to the negative commentary of many, she showed her capricorn 1st house side more to others and people began calling her boring or too intimidating to hang out with. She is a silent person now but when you get to know her better and become close enough for her to trust you, this sagittarius side of her naturally comes out and she's very playful with me.🤭🤠

✓ Even my other friend who has leo ascendant in the 12th house told me she was confident and very playful as a kid, quite headstrong when it came to her toys and the ones she played with too but growing up she faced harsh situations and now people see her as this extremely quite, soft and delicate person due to her cancer 1st house, but when she becomes comfortable with you, she shows this bright and creative side of hers. No one recognises how creative she is as well and those who are close with her always call her this ray of sunshine while those who are not, see her as this shy walking creature. We often even compare her to the sun saying she's like the sun in a dark room.🌻🌞

This can mostly resonate with those whose placidus chart resonates well with them because I have seen this more on placidus charts than whole sign charts.

• True node ☌ (conjunct) Uranus natives are extremely free- spirited people who will destroy anything or anyone who tries to take away their freedom, even if it's family.

(by destroy, I don't necessarily mean physical violence. I mean go against them and disturb their peace of mind and many a times even verbally wound them or just cut them off from their life)

They don't want to live by rules and norms of society often questioning it. They desire a life away from all the constraints that society has imposed upon humanity. They believe very much in the laws of nature and dislike the way humans restrict free-spirits like them.

They believe that they've come on Earth to fulfill their soul purpose alone and not to be entirely bound or tied down by the toxic desires desires and wishes of others, especially when it's control them. Now, these people are not savages or rouges. They are in fact very non-judgmental and offer you free space to be yourself.

They are the aliens in a world full of human beings. They have this very strong gut feeling that they have come on Earth to make a massive change. They are also usually lost in this world where everything changes in the blink of an eye, where the world evolves faster as the years pass by. They are also very good with technology I must say, they are very quick learners too, mostly with only what really grabs their attention because they cannot focus entirely on one thing.

They are curious souls longing for answers to their mind boggling questions. They are hard to figure out, hence I call them the Aliens on Earth and their minds/thoughts are UFOs. They can never settle, either physically or mentally or even both.

The depth of their mind and it's inner adventures are massive and eccentric in nature. They are amazing adventurers. Most of the time they really want to separate themselves from humanity and go to another planet.

They are also very very loyal and devoted lovers when they are 100% assured by their partner that their partner will be theirs no matter what. They do have a tendency to get flighty when they're afraid to invest completely only to be betrayed and cheated by their partner. This is all because of The impact of AQUARIUS features. ♒

• Natives with Black Moon Lilith (or any Lilith for that matter) ☌ (conjunct) Vertex can face significant fated events that target the darkest parts of themselves that they dont heal within themselves and are ashamed of.

These are the kind of events that can bring out or resurface shame and the unaccepted sides of themselves. There is also heavy risks of explicit exposure, se*ual harr**ment, being exploitated by both genders,etc. (how you are exploited can be mentally, physically, emotionally, etc and depends upon which house lilith sits in).

These individuals should be very careful about having their explicit stuff exposed to the public. There will also be an event that will completely change the native and push them to give 0 fucks about what society thinks of them, because all they've ever done was be kind, been taken advantage of in so many ways and no one stood up for them and even pretended to.

You must be careful wherever Lilith sits because this exposure and/or events will take place in those areas of your life.

Ex: 6TH HOUSE = colleagues, workplace, acquaintances, hidden enemies, innocence. When Lilith sits here be careful of those whom you are kind with and who are kind with you because in secret they may spread false rumours about you and even stalk you in order to expose you in some way. Your acquaintances may even blackmail you for various reasons so as to get you to do what they want you to do. These events can impact your health greatly.

I have this too and I have been through such shameful situations that I'm still working on healing.😮‍💨

• I have observed that once a fixed sign Mars (♉♒♌♏) native is done with you, they are DONE. If you do them dirty in any way, no matter how minor it is, they will never look at you the same way they did before ever again and they'll never apologise when they believe they've done nothing wrong.

They'll never beg you for forgiveness or run behind you when you stop giving them attention. They prioritize self-respect and don't feel the need to waste time with people or situations that cannot improve. Most of my friends have this and I've seen this in every single one of them.

"You cannot shake hands with a clenched fist". This is what they believe very much when it comes to dealing with people. If there is no reciprocation of respect, they will put their foot down, No doubt.

They are also very stern when it comes to making decisions. Very headstrong and you cannot convince these people easily. You will need a lot of evidence, proof and assurance to convince these natives about anything.🧐🥲

Like for example, if any or both of your parents have a fixed Mars, when you ask their permission to go out to a place with friends or ask them if you can go to that birthday party, or anything that requires their permission and consent, they will ask you so so many questions and even go the extra mile to make sure you are safe and that you are telling them the truth.😮‍💨 It is very hard to convince these natives when it comes to absolutely anything folks, you'll need an hour or two at least and even years at most lol.😭😂

My mom and sister, both, have a Taurus Mars and my god, they are so so hard to convince. They also are very stern decision makers and they value respect and boundaries which if messed with in any way, they will cut that person out so easily. 😶

Both of them are extremely overprotective of their loved ones and even very very possessive of the ones they love. This trait can be seen in the fixed sign Mars natives in general. They are so overprotective and possessive that it can become quite unbearable for the person experiencing it because the fixed sign Mars natives begin to check in on everything the person does.

celebrity examples:

•An actor named Ajay Devgn has his Mars in scorpio and his ex, Tabu, explained how Ajay's overprotectiveness and extreme possessiveness of her scared her and she left him because of it.

•Tom Cruise has his Mars in Taurus and his ex wives have told, the reason they left him was mainly due to his overhearing nature and how possessive he was of them so he would control what they wore and so on.

Thats all for today guys! I really hope you enjoyed reading this and I pray you have a bright day ahead❤️🌻

Thankyou for tuning in!

[thebigbadbatswife]

Finding You

Pairing - Bruce Wayne x F!Reader

Summary - The night that You and Bruce first laid eyes on one another.

Warnings - Pre-Relationship, First Meetings, Dancing, Alcohol, Age Gap, Older Man/Younger Woman.

A/N - Same 'verse as Sippin' on Sunshine and Morning Glory. As always, this fic is a standalone and does not require any previous fics to be read in order to be enjoyed.

Word Count - 2.2k

From the second that you entered the room, Bruce has been unable to take his eyes off of you. It’s not the half a million dollar jewels hanging from around your throat or the matching set of earrings. Nor the designer dress that is way too scandalise for an event like this that has him staring. 

Sure, they drew his eye to you to begin with, but that’s true of the whole room. While most people have returned their attention back to what had hold of it before, his eyes keep coming back to you and he’s really doing his best to not appear like a leering old man.

In all honestly, he couldn’t care less about the jewels or the dress. He can certainly appreciate an attractive woman, but it’s not the sole reason he’s watching you. What has him enchanted is the way that you carry yourself. 

You’re what? Half his age? At the very least? Yet you don’t bat an eye at the gossiping or the remarks that everyone has about you or your dress. One too many people bringing up one of those playboy shoots you’ve done in the past, rather loudly at that, but you don’t care. In fact, you’re smiling about it. Thriving off of it even, but not in a narcissistic way.

Bruce isn’t a betting man, but if he was he would be willing to bet half of his fortune that his was the sort of rise that you wanted out of these people tonight. 

The only thing he can’t figure out is why. What do you get from all of the negative attention you’re drawing toward yourself? Most people try to avoid that, but here you are embracing it. 

And there’s the way that you hold yourself with such grace. A grace that most of his own kids still haven’t learned, but not for the lack of trying on Alfred’s part.

The woman in front of you has no idea that you tuned her out ages ago. Your ability to keep up the look that you’re listening, with a nod here and an “oh I know what you mean,” there is impressive. Your smile is perfect. It’s practised and one that Barbie would be jealous off. Not an ounce of boredom to be seen anywhere on your face or in your posture. You know every step to this boring dance and you haven’t drunk a single thing. At least nothing alcoholic. Even Bruce, every once in a while, finds that he needs a drink to deal with it all, but you appear to be completely unaffected.

There’s two ways how he knows you’re feining interest with the woman. 

The first one being because, unbeknownst to everyone here, he’s the World’s Greatest Detective. Noticing such things is second nature to him. The second one is because, more than once, you have met his gaze. You’re not glaring daggers at him like you have at every other man here tonight. No. The look you have for him is one of curiosity.

One of the men he’s talking to starts to laugh, snapping Bruce’s attention away from you and back toward him. The rest of the men are either smirking or looking at him like they’re all in on a joke that he isn’t. It has his skin pricking with irritation.

“Oh, I wouldn’t look her way, Wayne,” he says. “Girl’s more frigid than that man in the icebox! You would have an easier time getting into the Queen of England’s bed!” 

All of the men around him laugh loudly. As if it’s the funniest thing that they have ever heard. While Bruce has to take a deep breath and remind himself not to cause a scene by clocking someone. That doesn’t stop his tongue from lashing them, weaponised with the things that he had observed from these men early on in the evening.

“Or, perhaps, she just isn’t interested in lecherous men that touch women without their consent.”

It’s satisfying to watch as as their faces drop and they all fall silent at his response. Eyes filling with realisation that he’s not one of them as their stomachs drop because he’s heard and seen the things they have said and done tonight. Bruce could truly ruin them. Have their names and companies’ reputations smeared for all time and make sure that no one ever does business with any of them ever again. He is a Wayne after all and when he speaks the world holds its breath and listens. 

Hell, he will do exactly that. Perhaps even throw Batman into the mix. Right now though that’s a matter for another time. One for when he isn’t in the middle of a ballroom.

Bruce doesn’t stick around to hear any of their retorts. If there are any retorts to be had to begin with.

He downs the rest of the champagne as he walks away and places the empty glass on a passing waiter’s tray. He decides that he needs something stronger than the champagne being served. Batman’s off duty tonight, his responsibilities entrusted to his eldest son and youngest daughter so he can afford to have a stronger drink. 

If he’s standing by the bar, it might also make him more approachable than being surrounded by a group of men that you have a very clear distaste for.

As he crosses the room, Bruce can’t stop himself from looking in your direction. Once more, your eyes meet his. You’re still looking at him with that same look. Like you’re not quite sure what his game is at. You’re trying to read him like he’s trying his best to read you. He quirks an eyebrow at you, a small yet genuine smile playing on his lips. He only holds your gaze for a moment before he’s turning away again. 

Once the bartender has poured him a glass of whiskey, he decides to stay at the end of the bar. It’s quieter and he has had enough of mind numbing conversations with men whose names he can’t fully remember no matter how many times he meets them.

He really is hoping that this will make him more approachable. Anything so he can have a conversation with you.

It’s strange. He hasn’t wanted anyone’s attention like this in a very long time. Not since Selina… 

Yet, here he is. Hoping like a schoolboy that this works.

As he sips on his drink, he’s all too aware of the women and men around him. All of them desperately trying to get his attention. They’re batting their eyelashes and trying to lean close to him to strike up a conversation. Some even going as far as to grab ahold of him and calling out “Brucie!”.

Bruce pretends that they aren’t there. His eyes glued to the dark amber liquid in the crystal glass. Fortunately they all give up quickly, some muttering under their breaths about him being stuck up, as they walk away. 

The sound of heels approaching him catches his attention and he perks up. Suddenly his drink is no longer as interesting as all of his focus now zeroes in on you. The sound of your heels is quickly followed by your voice.

“Mr Wayne, right?”

“Depends on who’s asking,” Bruce replies. He turns to face you, pleased that his plan has worked. “You can just call me Bruce.”

“Well, Bruce, did you know you’re the only person who hasn’t once stared at my boobs tonight?” you ask. An older woman nearby chokes on her drink at what you ask.

He chuckles softly. “Well, that would be rude. I don’t even know your name.” 

For a moment he wonders if he has misread things and has gone a little too far because you fall quiet. That quiet doesn’t last long though as, before he knows it,  you’re laughing. Even going as far as to step into his space briefly, your hand gently gripping his arm. Which, for the first time tonight, he doesn’t mind. 

Already he can see the articles and hear the shit the vultures will have to say about tonight. Even from this one small interaction, but since when has he ever cared what they think? 

“I’ve heard a lot of one liners, but not one that has actually made me laugh.” Your eyes shine with amusement, like it’s the funniest thing you have heard.

The corners of his eyes crinkle as he returns your smile. You introduce yourself to him and he repeats your name, testing it out on his tongue.

“That’s a pretty name,” he tells you. “And I have a bunch more one liners that you’ve likely never heard.”

“But?” 

“You’ll have to agree to go on a date with me.”

He, honestly, doesn’t even know why he wants a date with you so badly. He had sworn off dating anyone ever again. Happy to spend the rest of his life alone, considering what he had lost. But here he is. Doing his best to get a date with you. 

You raise an eyebrow at him. “That’s it? All I have to do is agree to go out with you?” 

He laughs softly. You’re good at this. “I mean, I would like it if you did go out with me, but you don’t have to if you really don’t want to. I won’t hold it against you.”

You look at him for a moment. The gears in your mind turning. At the same time the music in the room changes. It’s the sort of tune that’s perfect for dancing. Something that you don’t miss as you look away from him for a moment, your eyes searching for something in the room. 

You hum softly, looking back at him. “How about this instead. You dance with me and I give you a date?”

A quick glance to toward what should be the dance floor shows no one dancing, but you don’t seem to care about that. You want all eyes on the two of you and he’s happy to oblige.

Bruce sets his drink aside and takes you by the hand, leading you toward the dance floor. Your eyes light up at him actually taking you up on your counter offer.

You already know the steps, easily settling into rhyme with him as he moves you around the dance floor. All eyes are on the two of you, but he honestly doesn’t even notice them. You don’t appear to either.

All of his focus is on you and all of your focus is on him.

As you dance, the dancefloor doesn’t remain empty for long. Other couples join in. After all, if dancing is good enough for him, why shouldn’t it be good enough for them?

Even with the dance floor filling up, the two of you remain the focus. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see women, both older and younger, leaning in close and gossiping as they watch you and him glide across the dance floor. 

You and Bruce are going to be the talk of the world and he hasn’t even taken you out yet.

Has that been your plan all along? To get him out in the open with you? You want the attention, that much he’s figured out already. And this is going to come with a lot of that. A lot of it negative from the journalists that hate his guts.  The rest of it, he can’t figure out. You are completely unreadable to him. It’s a good thing he has always enjoyed a good challenge. 

The music ends far too soon for his liking and you are stepping away from him. 

“Can I have your phone?” you ask him. “I want to give you my number.” 

“Of course.” Bruce doesn’t hesitate as he reaches into his suit jacket and pulls out his cell. He unlocks it and hands it over to you.

"You'll text me the time and place?” you ask him, your fingers moving like lightning on the keyboard.

“Of course,” he replies. “I’m looking forward to it.” And he really is. For the first time in a long time, he’s actually looking forward to a date.

“As am I. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a very early start tomorrow. It was nice to meet you, Bruce.”

“It was nice to meet you, as well.” 

He expects you to just walk away. Leaving him waiting and wanting more. 

Instead you step back into his space and press a kiss to his cheek. As quickly as you entered his space, you’re gone again, this time turning around and walking away. He can feel himself blush and he’s sure that there’s lipstick staining his cheek now. 

The men that he had been talking to early are looking in his direction, their jaws almost on the floor. It really wasn’t the aim, but Bruce can’t help feeling a little smug over it. Since he wil likely make more of mess trying to wipe it off, he leaves the mark there and returns to the bar for a fresh drink. 

He can’t wait until the next time that he gets to see you.

[crooked-wasteland]

I've seen your tweet which criticizes the worldbuilding in Helluva Boss and how the Goetias feel like "Hollywood with royal titles" rather than true aristocracy, and I would like you to elaborate on that, if that's OK.

Thank you so much for this ask as I never got to expand on this point at the time. For those not in the know, the user is referencing this exchange on Twitter.

As much as the elites of our world would like to disperse the truth, the reality is that all societies are constructed around power. Who has power, how and why. That is the fundamental basis of every social dynamic from children on a playground to the politicians in our governments. So the very first thing we should even approach in regards to the narrative is how does power work in this universe?

So when I responded to Elcee in the tweet being referenced, I am evaluating power and power structures. Mainly there are two wholly different constructs of power between something like the aristocracy and celebrities.

The closest thing to an aristocracy we have in our modern day are the financial oligarchs of Capitalism. Elon Musk, Jeff Bezos, Bill Gates, etc. They have control everything from how our political parties engage with us to how we think based on the wealth they were born into. They curate our lives behind the scenes in ways that sound worthy of a tinfoil hat, but isn't a conspiracy. The wealthy were threatened in the 1970s by an educated proletariate. In response to our questioning the Vietnam war, the higher education that was once free or at least extremely affordable suddenly became prohibitively expensive.

So much so that only the financial aristocracy could access it. Whereas working class individuals are forced to jump through hoops and prove themselves suitably subservient to the existing power of the oligarchy in the form of scholarship applications, teacher recommendations and application letters before being granted access. This is not a mistake or how it's always been, this is by design.

Meanwhile, Celebrities are not elites. While we think of celebrities as being overpaid and living in luxury, it only takes a glance over at Chappell Roan to see the difference. When Jeff Bezos or Elon Musk or any large corporate CEO walks the red carpet, they are treated as royalty. When celebrities walk the red carpet, they are commodities.

Celebrity is the modern day face of the American Dream. Gone are the days of a single family home and a white picket fence. The boom of content over art, luxury over practicality, and excess over comfort is directly the result of selling to the world the idea of capitalistic success, which just amounts to perpetuating the system of turning humans into money. And for as much money as these celebrities make, it has been proven over and over again that they are just as susceptible to poverty as any other working class individual.

Celebrities are products we buy, and when we stop buying them, they vanish.

Meanwhile the aristocracy, the financial oligarchy, thrives in obscurity.

The difference in power is about who still has it when we no longer see them. And the more invisible and pervasive it is, the more real it is. However one as an individual thinks about the celebrity class, they are simple a different type of specialized tool to the true power behind the scenes.

With that differential in mind, the Goetia function more like celebrities rather than CEOs, and while Elcee fails to see the bigger picture, that subliminally tells the audience that someone with the title of prince, with armies sworn to his allegiance and infinite cosmic power, is no different than a working class joe.

This isn't intentional propaganda, however. It's not her trying to further the agendas of Jeff Bezos intentionally. Just like my other post covering how Medrano tries to excuse cheating, not realizing the only time one can argue such a blanket concept of forgiveness for such a betrayal can only happen when the option of choice is non-existent (ie Divorce is not on the table for reasons outside of the characters’ choices), this is the danger of not engaging with media with your mind turned on. You will innately, no matter how careful someone tries to be, engage with the material through the eyes of the creator.

Celebrities and average people are the same: commodities in the face of real power. But Medrano cannot tell the difference between someone like Elon Musk and his employees. She sees the aristocracy, the ones who were born into a legacy of wealth, as “hardworking average folks”. And if you aren't thinking, you might find yourself implicitly believing that too. Deeper entrenching the power they have over you as an individual and society as a whole.

How we got to where we are in our real lives is mirrored in the media we consume. And that isn't an accident.

[poppetsisters]

There's this really cool horror trope I've noticed lately of a villain being introduced in a simplified, unscary form, but later evolving into something so detailed and terrifying, it takes your breath away.

This is not the same as a traditional metamorphosis like in body horror cinema because the trope relies on the medium it uses to sell the scare.

Minor spoilers for Don't Hug Me I'm Scared. Major spoilers for Inscryption and I Saw The TV Glow

To introduce you to the concept, I'm just gonna show you the Care Hound from Don't Hug Me I'm Scared.

It's the Carehound alright, or rather a pictorial representation of the Carehound. But how do they look in real life?

Ah.

Like the rest of the show, this is both terrifying and hilarious. You think because it's a 2D representation of the dog that the eyes on the side of the head are just artistic license, but then he turns toward you and you realise no actually, he literally has two eyes on each side! Genius. 10/10 joke.

But you see what I mean right? You're given a disarming image of the antagonist so that later, they can pull the rug out from under you with the truth. And there's an element of adaptation limitation that is then broken through. Suddenly the artifice doesn't feel so fake, and you're pulled in.

Now let's talk about Inscryption. Ironically, the game does this in reverse. Though Leshy is hidden in shadow during most of Act 1, we see his evolved form first.

and when Act 2 starts, we see what he was like before.

I believe this was done to de-fang our feral card master after having been our antagonist the whole game. Where once he was powerful polygons, he is now pitiful pixels.

But while all this has been happening, the real threat has been hidden in our deck this whole time.

P03 was introduced to us as nothing more than one card in our deck. He wasn't even a good card. But now it's Act 2 and we realise he, along with the other three Scrybes were trapped in lesser forms by Leshy when he took control of the game. For a whole act, we see something close to a status quo with these guys, who bicker and fight over control of the disc.

We see P03's true form in all it's 16-bit glory, as well as the environment he inhabits. While atmospheric, you can tell the graphics hold him back. He seems so small and pitiful. Simple and limited.

and then he takes control.

The first time I played this section, there was something so visceral about the leap. I stopped seeing P03 as an NPC inside a 90s TDC and was forced to see him as an entity haunting a cursed floppy disc. Once again, the artifice made me too comfortable, and now anything that felt more real than that became hyper real.

and no movie pulled this off quite has effectively as I Saw The TV Glow.

I am once again flashing a spoiler warning. If you haven't seen I Saw The TV Glow, do not continue reading until you have.

We are introduced to Mr Melancholy as the antagonist of a young adult fantasy series called The Pink Opaque.

Not as the antagonist of the movie we're watching, but the villain of the TV show within the movie.

Right off the bat, Mr Melancholy isn't even on our radar. Even worse, the special effects they use to portray him are laughable.

We see him once again as our lead characters stare dreamily up into the sky, further re-enforcing how silly this guys looks. I mean come on, he looks like an uncooked pancake!!

That all changes when Owen sits down to watch the final episode of The Pink Opaque, which was mysteriously cancelled after a cliffhanger ending.

The build up and climax to what happens next is one of the most harrowing cinema experiences I've had in my entire life. This is your final spoiler warning.

Isabel and Tara, the two leads in the Pink Opaque, are kidnapped by Mr Melancholy's henchmen and brought face to face with the moon man himself.

He looks... good. No, good isn't the right word... he looks convincing. The visual effects between the last time we saw him to now jumped a literal century, and combined with the crt filter hide any possible cg imperfections. In short, it make him look like he's really in the scene.

Or rather... that he's really in the room.

He gets closer, explaining his plan to trap the girls in a realm without magic or memory, where they will suffocate in the nightmare. Where they don't remember the powers they have, or the people they are. where you don't even notice the aspect ratio switched.

Where you don't even remember that you're dying.

and just like that, Mr Melancholy becomes the most real thing in the entire world. He becomes YOUR villain, he's trying to kill YOU! He's already succeeded in killing YOU. YOU are SUFFOCATING right now and you don't even KNOW!

and that's when you remember to breathe.

[nanami-is-nanamean]

Hi. I have seen a nerdjo fanart and went a little insane.

I specifically saw this art--

and like LJKHFGLKJSHLDFKhGKLSD i know its satosugu or some kind of self insert bUT HEAR ME OUT OKAY--

the thought of a nerdjo nanago where GOJO is the straightlaced person in the relationship while NANAMI is the "bad influence" rough and tough bad guy iS SO GOOD TO MEEEEEEE

BECAUSE LIKE--

we all collectively hc nanami as being some kind of emo punk in hs or at the very least got into some bullshit during his uni/college years when he got out of juju tech and this is just its Natural Conclusion OKAY-- IM NOT INSANE BUT I WILL ADMIT THAT I AM GOING FERAL

Because like-- imagine a college au where gojo and nanami are assigned to be each others tutors in their respective fields (gojo with physics and nanami in economics). Gojo is painting this picture of a mean, money focused economics student that would rather look at the stock market than entertain theoretical physics, a subject that wont really affect his life before meeting him

But then they actually meet each other for their study session for the first time and oh god gojos never felt this gay before-- other than the time that gojo discovered he was gay, dear LORD he didnt feel that bad before KJLGSDGDL

Because while yeah, nanami did show up rockin the stereotypical hoity toity econ student fit-- glasses, collared shirt, watch, shined shoes-- he didnt expect him to be built like a brick shithouse, okay. And even as he fell back on his tried and true method of getting back into focus (which is breaking things down using physics to figure out how they interact with the world), even that failed because he started wondering about the physics of fabrics and how they didnt rip yet from such huge rippling muscles

He does manage to get through the tutoring lesson safely and, thank god it was the physics lesson first because if he had to sit there listening to nanamis voice talk about literally anything for extended periods of time, he may turn into a puddle. As gojo packs up, both his materials and his thoughts that are steering WILDLY into inappropriate territory, he resigns himself into being the fushiguros babysitter for the next 3 weeks because cleaning up baby diapers are the fastest way to get rid of a boner and he cant be popping those everytime hes around nanami

So imagine gojos surprise when nanami hesitates a bit before he leaves. "Are you busy tonight?" "...what?" "Are you busy tonight." "Uhm..."

Is this it? Is his 1 to 2 hour long crush discovered? Is nanami actually straight, found out his gayness, and decided to destroy him????

"...I noticed you didn't have anything down on your planner. A friend of mine got sick, so now im kind of going alone to this concert." "...Oh! Aren't you gonna--" "Sell the ticket? No, its... not really a concert, its an underground diy venue. its more live music in a bar, than an actual concert you buy tickets to. you get to find a lot of small starting artists. its pretty good." "...so youre saying is, there's no ticket to sell?"

gojo's breath hitches, as his deep chuckle graces his ears. "yeah, no tickets." his face is warm, and he has no idea if it shows. nanamis eyes tear themselves away from wherever they roamed and met his again. "you wanna come?" "y-yeah! yeah sure, im down."

he really fumbled the delivery on that one, but thank god nanami seems to like clumsy people because that just widened the small smile on his face. "that's good. see you 8 down at the lawsons?" "8 at the lawsons, yeah sure okay--" a nod, a grin, and he walks off.

Triple Threat Tokyo Groupchat

Sight Impediment: @/Dr. House Kinnie @/The Ball Vorer help what should i wear to an underground bar Dr. House Kinnie: wtf happened on that tutoring session gay boi The Ball Vorer: what else dude, he was being gay Sight Impediment: YOU GUYS ARENT HELPING

[sukunasun]

Do you ever plan to write a fic with a grumpy reader? Maybe with Getou or any chara of your choice?

screaming from the top of a building: grumpy readers are so relatable and deserve more nuance than being labelled as ice queens and stone-cold bitches! there is much more to unfold beyond the harsh exterior. how cantankerous and irritable you are but nonetheless meant to be understood and loved.

quietly, you lay there stowing away as a recluse. you love your books and your crochet hooks. working away and making the most of me-time. people don't draw near. instead, they try prodding with sticks and hurtling stones for a reaction hoping it's a smile or a nice conversation between two, but there is no gambling and taking chances. no risking it 'depending on your mood' because the weather report calls for sunny skies and yet, the storming grey cloud above your head stays looming. permanently brewing.

you claim it's just your face, your attitude, and overall unapproachable aura that inhibits you from making contacts and connections. an RBF that can't be cracked. "she's so intimidating," is a grating sound. you have long since given up on explaining yourself or waiting for the chance to when the backstory and lore is too revealing. not exactly dinner party talk. you wish it could be as easy as saying "im hurt and heartbroken beyond repair. mothering fear and angst without needing comfort." it feels nice, well-deserved even to wallow in dread.

there's bound to be disappointment from unmet expectations thus, you've stopped having them altogether. it feels better than accepting affection with open arms. so wrong, so weird to be wanted, to be chosen. where's the catch? when will the other shoe drop? the cycle of starting over becomes tiring, tedious—a mechanical performance. a complex creature who requires better coping mechanisms and a man who won't stab you in the back. friends who'd stop poking holes in the reasons when you say no, yet again, to meeting someone new in this state: when bricks are laid and piled high up in uniformed rows surrounding, it warrants avoiding all forms of showing and receiving love after the years spent shaping the architecture of your defences.

then there's geto. with his charm and wit and the way he pries the person from underneath facades and fabricated masks. your fragile, rocking foundations built on sand he topples down with a mere smile, hardened fortitudes he crushes to dust, weaving within hairline cracks and exploring the caverns of your heart like no one has before. all without much effort, or rather, he doesn't need to exert himself when you fall so willingly.

"why don't we do something else tonight, dinner and a movie?" he questions when you call again. right after work when the stress is at an all-time high and he's...well, you don't know what he does, but he makes himself available for you. he'll admit it's made him feel special being the only person let in, when everyone else has to scavenge for scraps, he's a privileged selected one. seen the glimpses of the warmth you possess when laid bare and sated.

such a skill he has to wring out the truth. still, you go on with the "i like being alone," answer. a mantra, a repetitive hymn to soothe the sting and sharp clawing against the chest til it no longer feels so. numb and sore aches it leaves behind. 'you'll regret it when you realize i'm too much for you,' stays clogged in your throat. he'd only admonish you for such thoughts. 'that's not true' he'd say, but you know better than to believe that.

"i get it," geto replies, feigning casualness when he's not a stranger to isolation and avoidant habits. sometimes he wished he wasn't exposed to a mirror of his own makeup. a paragon of performative indifference and detachment. "i'll leave when you want me to," he reassures you, but was that a wavering you hear in his voice? you don't dare assume because he makes things easy. not the kind to complicate, nor commit. say the word and he'd give you all the solitude you need. dodging the serious questions and serious labels. friend, boyfriend, guy-im-sleeping-with. he doesn't care for them because you don't.

maybe he's just referring to the task at hand, used to forgoing aftercare and post-orgasm cuddles for a late-night drive home. excluding that one time you allowed him a night on your couch. he won't stay if your hand comes up to his sweaty chest, pushing him away before he's had the chance to pull out and slide the worn condom off. it keeps him at a distance and he takes it as a sign that this is as far as intimacy goes—no kissing on the lips, no secrets and sweet nothings, your moans don't escape and neither do his plethora of dirty speeches, stifled and gritting in a tight-lipped prison—there is no room for it at all.

the last thing you need is to dispose whatever is left of an already flimsy resolve. becoming vulnerable and exposed to his rejection or the knee-jerk reaction when he touches you—when the strap of your dress falls at an angle, he instinctively chases after the smooth slope of shoulder with his lips, pressing soft kisses there and everywhere else simmering with anxiety, humming pleased and contented to taste the nerves slipping away, sinking his teeth in and feeling the flesh give to his possession—a longing that courses through and wrenches around your heart tight. you're so selfish to follow after his hands, to feel them feel you. they should be upon another but he grabs and gropes greedily like he can't wait any longer.

"or you could let me stay," he offers.

"the couch makes your back hurt," you reply.

"your bed is big enough for two," he counterclaims. doing what he does best. it's not the first time he's tried to hint at more, waiting for the opportune moment when you're putty in his hands, relenting to him.

"we can't," you gasp when he slips two fingers past your dripping folds. the smirk he wears hidden in the crook of your neck. "why–" you claw at his forearm tucked between your thighs, clenching around his limb for leverage while he makes you squirm and jolt with every nudge against your gspot. "–why me?" why an unpleasant, unfriendly, unwanted woman like you, haven't you suffered enough? why does he choose to torment you with his favour while seeking for yours. you remind yourself there's no place, no space for him here. you like the way things are no matter how painfully lonely it gets, you like the cool touch of your sheets and the emptiness your fingers trail over in the mornings. it's what you know, what you settled for. since when do two people meet and see each other for themselves, choosing to stay for long after the thinly veiled ugliness is stripped away. how do you tell him you're starting to grow accustomed. almost adoring. you've flown too close to the sun before, how do you deal with the fallout when you're inevitably lurched into the suffocating and slow descent towards earth?

in the last few seconds cresting upon your climax, suguru feels it building around the edges of your jittering limbs. head lolling back as you choke, fighting back your moans. your hips thrust in time, chasing after his fingers. he settles them as deep as he can, pumping fast and pressing down against your clit til it hurts, til the hard pressure causes your juices to drip down his fingers, squelching and making a mess.

fuck it, he knows it's the only time you'll have him this close so his arms brace you, supported by his strong chest, crushed by his biceps, suguru coaxes you, "i don't care how far you push me, or how much you pretend, i want you and i know you want me too—"

you shake your head, resisting, stop it, stop uncovering me. he talks of your lust as if some incontrovertible proof, you won't give in. with indefatigable, unwavering effort you set the record straight. "i don't like you like that," lying right as you're about to explode from pleasure, not the kind that feels like a firework, shooting silent and bursting forth, but you seize every muscle in his hold. choking on your breaths and feeling it tighten and coil in your stomach, in your toes, compact and revving, it releases like an engine. rolling and roiling so unyieldingly it makes your ears ring, suffocating you til your vision goes black, and a scream forces it way past your lips.

neither high-pitched nor guttural, it reverberates so soothingly, "im sorry!" you cry. for being this way, for using and tossing him aside, for wanting more. you sob with your head thrown back while suguru hums right against your ear. sounding pleased and pleasured with your admission.

slowing his fingers in time with your panting breaths, he questions "do you really think i wouldn't like you?" it's not the right time to do this but he can hardly bear it, he longs for truth, "do you not believe me?"

looking upon his face through half-lidded eyes, you see that interrogative spark in his expression, his arms never letting go. a tense anticipation takes shape. the air is thick with the scent of damp skin and something else—his shampoo, his cologne, you chase after it for more, pressed into his chest, it only takes one whiff to get a fill, the same way you cling to the corners of pillowcases and duvet covers for that little bit.

what has changed? he makes you act a fool, forlorn and fumbling around in the most fatuous ways. i want you he said so clearly. and it warms your being like never before. there is an urge to make excuses, accuse him for being in lust, he only said it in the heat of the moment, ensnared by a need for possession.

but there is no point in looking back.

"i believe you," you say, noses bumping and slotting close when your lips betray your better judgement, or rather, your unfavourable one. "i'll try." is the best you can offer.

[vintagebuckybarnes]

Soft Smiles, Hopeful Hearts

Pairing: College Student! Best Friend! Loki Laufeyson x College Student! GN! Reader

Total Wordcount: 1.4K

Summary: For years, you and Loki have been in love with one another, but neither of you has taken the first step to take your relationship to the next level. This won't stop Thor from trying to get either one of you to take that step. When you two go to the spring dance together, his dream of seeing you two get your happily ever after might finally come true.

Tags & Warnings: Canon divergence | No powers AU | College AU | College Student! Loki | College Student! Thor | Genderneutral! Reader | College Student! Reader | Meddling best friend/brother | Childhood best friends to lovers | Mutual pining

Story Rating: G | General

Author's Note: This is my first story, which includes Loki and Thor, so I hope you will enjoy it! It was a hoot to write this, and I'm looking forward to what you all think of this story 💜

Writing Prompts @fandom-free-bingo Bug Edition: Dancing together @fandom-free-bingo Gingerbread Edition: Surprise kiss | Happily Ever After

Tag List: If you'd like to be tagged in my stories, you can find my tag list here.

My blog is for adults (18+) only, and most of its content is intended for mature audiences. Remember that you are responsible for your media consumption. If my content is not your cup of tea, feel free to navigate to blogs other than mine.

“I think you should ask them to go to the spring dance, Loki. You’re both head over heels in love with one another! And if you wait any longer, someone else might have asked before you. I’m not planning on seeing you sulk for weeks on end because you didn’t dare to ask Y/N to the dance,” Thor says, his thick Australian accent drifting through the library. He’s ‘studying’ with his brother, Loki, and some of their friends for an upcoming exam, but as usual, there’s more talking than studying happening.

“First- I’m not head over heels in love with anyone; I love them like a friend and nothing more-” Loki says, though the flush on his cheeks tells everyone something else entirely. You and Thor grew up next to one another, but when you were six, Odin and Frigga adopted a four-year-old Loki when his parents gave him up.

From that moment on, the three of you have been inseparable, and wherever one of you was, the other two were always close by. Over the years, the boys have grown rather protective of you, but while you and Thor have always remained friends, Loki has developed romantic feelings for you. However, he has never found the courage to admit this to you. What Loki doesn’t know is that you’re in love with him as well, and the only person who knows is Thor.

For years, he has been trying to get the two of you together, setting you two up on dates by first agreeing to go out with you both, then suddenly saying “something came up,” but to this day, nothing has happened. Despite this, he’s still trying to get his wish by seeing you two living Happily Ever After together, and he’ll try everything in his might to get his wish.

“And second, I don’t think I’m going to the dance. You and Y/N should go, though. They’ll love this year’s theme,” Loki says, his voice cracking a little at the thought of not going with you. His struggle to keep his emotions in check is evident, and he quickly bends himself over his textbook, which makes his raven black hair fall beside his face like a curtain.

“All I’m saying is that you’ll probably regret it if you don’t ask,” Thor shrugs before dropping the topic, instead moving on to the next College Football game this Saturday, as he is the team's quarterback. Loki has stopped listening for a while and is only snapped out of his thoughts when one of the chairs at the table moves back, only to be occupied by the most beautiful person he has ever seen: you.

“Hi! I hope it’s okay if I interrupt your studying, but I figured I’d bring you both some lunch,” you tell them with a chipper voice, making Loki’s heart swell with love and his mouth curl into a smile at the sight. You put down a brown bag in front of them, and Thor immediately rips it open to find a few meaty sandwiches, some with a plant-based spread, and some fruit and a black coffee on the side.

For Loki, you have made a salad with all his favorite toppings, with two apples and an iced coffee to go with it, and you’ve also put a little note in both of their lunches, just like you always do. It’s become a habit from when you were small because your mothers used to do it, and when all three of you moved into an apartment near the Campus, you started doing it as a joke, but now it is something they always look forward to.

“You never interrupt us,” Thor says in his rugged voice, and you smile at him before looking over at Loki as he reads his note. His eyes grow wide as they speed over the letters written in neat, dark green handwriting.

“Wait- Are you really asking me? Out of all people?” Loki asks, his tone unsure as he holds the note tightly in his hand. His heart races as he reads the words, “Loki, will you go to the Spring Dance with me?” and you nod enthusiastically. You and Thor have been talking about this moment for a few days, and eventually, he gave you the idea of slipping the question into his lunch with the note, which worked a charm.

“Well, I believe we should go and look at some outfits then because I’d love to go to the dance with you,” Loki says with a charming smile, his eyes sparkling with joy. You jump out of your chair to wrap your arms around his neck, hugging him tightly in the process. His long, nimble fingers clutching your shirt as if he’s afraid that you’ll disappear if he doesn’t. The entire time, Thor is looking at you both with a massive grin on his face, pride beaming off him the entire time.

The night of the Spring Dance has arrived, and you’re putting the finishing touches on your outfit. Loki has opted for an emerald green suit with subtle gold accents, and his hair is styled in a bun with a few loose pieces in the front to frame his pale features. As you look in the mirror, you admire your all-black outfit paired with a simple necklace Loki has gifted you, a small emerald hanging on it. He gifted it to you when you graduated high school together with Thor, and you’ve always worn it on special occasions.

“Are you ready for the reveal?” you ask before walking out of your bedroom, where Loki promised to be waiting on the other side of the closed door. After a soft ‘yes,’ you open the door, revealing your outfit to him, and you can’t help but take an extra look at him, as the suit he is wearing appears to be sculpted by gods. As the man in front of you takes in the sight, it’s like love at first sight all over again, and he cannot get enough of how you look.

“Wow,” he whispers before extending his hand and bringing yours to his lips to kiss it softly. As soon as his soft lips are on your skin, you feel your heart nearly leaping out of your chest from the surprise kiss, and your cheeks start burning in excitement.

“You look amazing too, Loki. You always look stunning in this green color,” you tell him, and his cheeks turn bright red as he looks away, wanting to hide his flushed cheeks. You two are still holding hands the entire time, and it feels very natural when you fully intertwine your fingers with his.

Then, as soon as you’re ready to go, Thor is dressed in a classic tuxedo, and Jane Foster, his date, is dressed in a classic red gown. Loki orders an Uber for you all to share. You’re excited about finally going on a date with someone you’ve been crushing on for a few years. It took a lot of courage to ask him finally, but as soon as the confirmation left his lips, you wouldn’t be able to stop thinking about that night.

The beginning of the night seems to go by in a blur as you’re spending it dancing, laughing, drinking, and having fun with Thor, Loki, and Jane. Then, the DJ starts a slow song, and Loki stretches his hand out again, silently asking for the two of you to dance together. A slight shock goes through your body when your hand touches his, and Loki smiles as he guides you to the dancefloor like a true gentleman.

“Are you enjoying yourself tonight?” he asks, his hands on your waist while yours are on his shoulders. You’ve rarely been this close to him, but you can’t get enough of the smell of his cologne and how his smile brightens his features each time he looks at you.

“I am, but it’s mostly thanks to you. It wouldn’t have been as fun without you here, Loki.”

Then, the one thing you’ve been dreaming about for a long time finally happens, and all you hear is the blood rushing in your ears and Thor screaming a loud ‘YES!’ as the two of you finally share your first kiss together. It has been long overdue, and it feels like perfection when you take your time to enjoy the moment. The moment feels like it’s over all too soon, but the smiles on your faces say it all: This is the beginning of your Happily Ever After, and you’re happy to be sharing it with Loki.

Navigation | Loki Laufeyson Library

GIF | All the graphics in my posts are made by @vintagebuckybarnes, unless stated otherwise.

✨ Tag List ✨

@late-to-the-party-81 | @angelichwv | @arcadia-smith

[kakushusband]

Ok well. Champagne does revert to human form like Once a day because I'd imagine showering in catboy mode is hellll like it's just this

[sttoru]

clan leader!satoru, whose smile isn’t actually a. . . smile. it serves as a gentle (yet not-so-gentle) threat to whomever it is dedicated to. a lot of the gojo clan members, as well as members from other noble clans, have heard of that infamous smile and know of its true meaning.

ever since marrying you, that smile often finds its way onto his lips. it’s not because of you, but rather because of the ones interacting with you. satoru didn’t ever expect to feel so possessive about someone he initially didn’t care for.

a marriage of convenience is all that your relationship was for. it purely existed for the sake of a connection between two famous families. your first weeks together have been awkward. any form of affection - any touches or loving words - were for the sake of his image.

however that all was fated to change: satoru eventually found himself falling for his wife.

your kind personality, your subtle smiles, the embarrassed expression on your face whenever he teased you in front of others even if it was all a faux display- an act of being all lovey-dovey. your inner and outer beauty was slowly becoming more apparent to the white-haired man.

you don’t know when it started. you can’t recall why satoru is suddenly acting affectionate even behind closed doors. usually, he’d drop the act the second you’re in your chambers. now he continues to compliment you, pepper you with chaste kisses as long as you allowed him to… even refer to you as his ‘dear’, ‘pretty girl’ or ‘sweetheart’ to your face like it’s nothing.

you shrug off your own guards and maids when they curiously inform you about their lord’s sudden change of personality, which was supposedly all because of you.

“ah, my wife,” satoru’s voice echoes above the loud chatter in the main hall. you turn your head and find your heart racing for some reason as he addresses you in that gentle tone.

he makes his way through the crowd, eyes never leaving your face, even as other important figures try to catch his attention to talk business. “i was greatly worried about you,” your husband sighs.

a gloved hand cups your face and satoru leans in, his glossy lips inches from yours. you’d think this was part of the fake arrangement, but there’s this genuine hint of adoration behind his cerulean eyes that you cannot ignore.

“i— my apologies,” you murmur softly, eyes darting around the room while you try to ignore the loud thumping of your heart. “i was simply talking to one of the guards,” you explain and nod your head to the bulky man standing next to you.

the guard respectfully bows to satoru the second you introduce him. your husband doesn’t respond for a single second, his fingers twitching lightly at his side. he can’t stand the thought of you talking to another man while he isn’t around.

is it for your own safety? or is it because he’s jealous and immediately wants to get rid of any man who dares speak to his precious wife? perhaps it’s a mixture of both.

“i see,” satoru replies. his eyes darken for a second before he catches himself. the corners of his lips curl upwards, though the smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

that familiar sight makes you nervous. you’ve seen it before, when your husband would subtly threaten others for whatever reason, while hiding his true feelings behind that smile.

“well,” satoru continues, his arm wrapping around your waist. he pulls you against his side and places a kiss on top of your head while glaring at the guard through his white eyelashes.

“thank you for keeping my wife safe,” the clan leader says through that tight smile, trying to keep it as ‘genuine’ looking as possible. he has a reputation and image to uphold after all.

you’re about to say something, but are cut off as satoru adds another comment. “i’m here now, so you can return to your post.”

it isn’t a suggestion. it is an order— a command. a disguised threat.

the guard immediately picks up on the subtle hint and nods without saying a word before walking back to his spot at the doors. you can hear the faint whispers from others as they also seem to recognise that change in satoru’s demeanour.

it’s not like you’re totally oblivious to what’s happening either. you look up at satoru and place a hand on his chest, trying to catch his attention. “satoru,” you whisper his name.

the white-haired man immediately snaps out of it and excitedly shoots you that boyish smile of his instead of the fake, cold one he wore on his face just a second ago.

“you called, my dear?” satoru tilts his head, bringing a hand to rest over yours on his chest. your eyes widen a bit at the way he seems to relax and look at you with that same devoted gaze.

you don’t think it’s an act anymore. the words die on your tongue and you can’t recall what you wanted to say anymore. those sparkling blue eyes and charming smile have you rendered speechless.

“���it’s nothing,” you mutter under your breath. you have no clue how you’ve managed to turn that once, cocky, overly confident and cold-hearted ruler into a total softie for you. it’s something you still need to process yourself.

satoru doesn’t leave your side for the rest of the night, glaring at the men who pass by, shooting them that fake, threatening smile if they looked like they desired to converse with you.

you’re his wife, and that’s that. he silently wonders when you’ll realise that he actually fell for you. perhaps you are already aware of it, but hide it from him on purpose.

whatever the case is, satoru will make sure that you know his true feelings for you. one day he will tell you those three words explicitly— if it wasn’t obvious enough through his sudden change of behavior.

[chuluoyi]

LOVER'S QUARREL

- fushiguro megumi x reader

“i can't do this anymore.” you and megumi are just too different; he's stoic, you're bubbly, he prefers solitude, you love being social. it starts with fights, words you don't mean, and ends with an event that would haunt him for a long time to come.

genre/warnings: angst, breaking up, post-breakup feelings, mentions and description of injury and blood, hurt/comfort, fluff in the end (you make up!)

note: dear god i’m finally getting this out of my drafts. loosely inspired by real life events i’ve seen around my friend’s relationship sooo it might hurt a bit 🤏🏻 but who can say no to angst to eventual fluff? tagging @lees-chaotic-brain and @kasumitenbaz (as per request in the ask!), you two are always here for my megumi works, thank you!! :3 and thank you for dropping by for the event!

a part of 1K MILESTONE EVENT

general masterlist

Everyone pointed it out as a joke, that you liked him way more than he did you.

And you used to never let it ruffle you. To you, Megumi’s sternness and silence meant that he was comfortable with you. You never wanted him to change his ways just because now you were seeing each other.

But when you thought it over now, as you stood before him with an aghast expression and knives stabbing your kind, soft heart, you couldn’t help but do a double-take.

You were the one who confessed first. Most of the time, you were the one who initiated dates. You always texted him first, asking about his day, and even when he brushed you off, you would keep being this ball of sunshine and wished him a good day.

You never realized it before… that through everything, it has always been you. Unfailingly.

So how dare he spout this now?

“I can't do this anymore.”

"You... can't?" you spat out, feeling the first tendrils of anger course through you. "What exactly it is that you can't do? What do you even mean?"

"Look," Megumi stared at you squarely, and you thought now, that it was the coldest of eyes, straight and true. "It's always been like this between us lately. It's only right that we end this."

This, he said. He didn't even want to define your relationship anymore.

You scoffed. "And why do you think we always end up this way? Have you ever considered, even once, that it's because you make no effort at all?"

"I'm trying," Megumi quickly replied, almost in a hiss, and you almost recoiled. "But I just see that we'll end up nowhere, that's why I'm bringing this up now."

Oh, that freaking hurts. You boyfriend had just told you that this relationship would go nowhere. Right in your face.

Your eyes stung with tears, yet you fought to hold them back, fixing your gaze on the lamp overhead and inhaling deeply.

"You're... selfish," you stated, filled with ire. "You're always walking around eggshells around me, never telling me what is it that you really want—"

Megumi's unclouded eyes fixed on your trembling form. "We just disagree on a lot of things. You know it and it bothers you. It bothers me too. Rather than forcing our relationship, I think it's better—"

"It's always me!" you yelled then, lips quivering and eyes watering, unable to hold your emotions back any longer. "All dates, lunches—everything!" you locked your eyes with him, in mocking disbelief. "How can you say you're trying when, in truth, I'm the one putting in so much for us?!"

In that very second, Megumi thought that he hated seeing you like this. You were supposed to be the cheerful one in this relationship, and when he agreed to go out with you, he made an unspoken commitment to himself that he would at least not make you miserable.

And yet...

"...I'm sorry."

Came his reply, and you were sure that this was it.

And to rub the salt in your wound, he added, "I can't lie to you and say I haven't thought this for a while too."

As tears welled within you, you wondered and questioned what you lacked that led to this. However, the overwhelming sense of betrayal consuming your thoughts ultimately prevailed over any other emotions.

Now he could've appeared before you as a stranger and you wouldn't bat an eye, as the cold steel in his tone said, "And if blaming me is what it takes to make you feel better, then so be it."

You couldn't pinpoint the source of your sudden boldness, but in the next hot minute, you marched past him, your shoulder harshly colliding with his in a deliberate, almost spiteful manner—which, indeed, was your intention—and then you ran.

Which led to the next scene: you found yourself bawling your eyes out in the girls' lavatory.

Yuji and Nobara saw everything unfolding right before their eyes. They hadn't meant to eavesdrop, but you and Megumi were literally breaking up right the middle of their shared classroom, and it was hard not to follow the discourse until the end.

"Are you okay?" Nobara had come to your side, ensuring privacy by locking the restroom door out of your consideration. You were a sobbing mess, attempting to wipe the overflowing tears away while letting out all your emotions.

"He's..." Your voice faltered amid sobs as you gazed at your steadfast friend, your throat clogging up. "He said... he's been wanting t-to... break up with m-me..."

"That's okay, that's okay..." Nobara brought you to her arms, patting your back in reassurance. "Fushiguro is insensitive like that... don't cry over him now. He's just a wimp, okay?"

"Why is it me?" you asked her, voice brittle, still shaking with tears. "I t-tried everything! Being the supportive girlfriend..."

"If he can't appreciate what you did, then the problem lies with him," your friend stated, traces of irritation brewing in her resolute gaze. And as she firmly grasped your wrist, her next words resonated. "Not you."

. . .

"Do you really have to break her heart like that?" Yuji fidgeted with his hoodie, staring at his best friend with a blend of confusion and sympathy.

Megumi sighed, finally ruffling his hair into a mess, as if expressing his own state of mind. “This is for the best.”

Yuji’s eyebrows visibly creased. “How is this ‘for the best’? She’s miserable, and you…” he assessed him, scanning him from head to toe, “it doesn’t seem you’re faring any better too.”

“The longer she is with me, the unhappier she will be.” Megumi glanced at the bathroom’s direction. “She can deserve better.”

He was always too quiet, too boring, not able to match your energy too. He couldn’t fault you for expecting more, whereas he was just not exactly built for your expectations.

Megumi really thought he wanted it to end. At one point, it even felt like a chore, but…

How strange. Why did it feel like something was clawing at his chest?

Time heals. Megumi knew that by theory, but he really did see it firsthand when he saw you all giggling and happy again three weeks after he initiated the breakup.

With Hakari.

“Yo, what are you glaring at?” Panda asked, but Megumi didn’t pay him any mind.

An upperclassman, Hakari Kinji, was naturally cool and talented. He was laid back, knew how to have fun—all in all, a total opposite of Fushiguro Megumi altogether.

Three weeks. It’s only been three weeks since then.

“Megumi?”

Wait… Aren’t three weeks too fast to get over your ex?

“Megumi!”

“Huh?” he turned to the sentient panda with a jerk. “Oh, what is it?”

He looked at him with a concerned gaze. "Why do you look so scary? It's almost as if you're about to punch someone..."

But who was he to argue? He had no right to be upset now.

"Is it Kinji?" Panda gasped, finally putting two and two together when he followed his line of sight. "Oh Megumi... but you—"

"Just shut up, please," he blurted then, a hint of annoyance in his tone. With that, Panda didn't pursue it further, leaving him with his thoughts.

From where he was at the field, he could clearly see your radiant smile for Hakari. It was clear that the two of you shared a degree of friendship, but Megumi never knew that you two were that close.

...huh?

Why did the sight irritate him so suddenly? Why did his chest twinge again?

What a fool. You're the one driving her away, you idiot.

Suddenly these memories popped up one by one—

Of you suddenly hugging him from behind in an attempt to surprise him.

How he pressed his lips on the crown of your head when you fall asleep on his shoulder.

How you would give him that dopey smile when he pulled you close.

But on harder days after missions gone wrong, he’d ignore you altogether— the slight disappointment in your smile then. How your expression fell when he told you to go. How you slumped and looked back in hopes of him changing his mind.

“Haaaah.” Megumi turned away, unwilling to keep watching you any longer. Why? Why hadn’t it occurred to him before now?

Why did he long for you now? Why not before, when you were still his?

They were right. It seems people tend to desire what isn't meant for them.

What could have been more painfully awkward than being sent into a mission with your ex-boyfriend?

You would kill Gojo for this. Or at least give him the lowest possible score in his teaching evaluation for the year. How could he? Your breakup was an infamous public spectacle, so this setup was undoubtedly intentional!

You were losing your head over this, and yet your ex-boyfriend...

"Keep your guard up," Megumi reminded curtly, in a warning tone. He looked as vigilant and straight as always, as if he wasn't even bothered.

You threw him a dirty look, offended. "You don't have to tell me twice."

This just cranked up the discomfort to an excruciating level. The mix of unresolved tension and memories—okay, you might be an emo, but how were you supposed to be cool with all of these hanging in the air?

Your site of exorcism was an abandoned warehouse, and the cursed spirit in question was supposed to be a grade 3. You two were grade 2 sorcerers now, so you were a perfect fit to exorcise it. But there was indeed this unease in the air that you couldn't put your finger to.

"Isn't it awfully too quiet?" you unwittingly muttered, staring at the darkness of the wall. You couldn't feel any cursed energy belonging to any possible malevolent entity, and that was what unsettled you the most.

Megumi frowned at your line of sight. "It is. Stay close."

You blinked at what he said, and before you knew it, the familiar scent of him being near to you made your entire body burst with this equally familiar warmth. When you looked up to him, seeing the solid sharpness in that dark eyes of his and his jaw set, dead butterflies in your chest rose back to life again, against your heartbreak and better judgement.

Stay close, he said... So he is worried...

And in an attempt to hide how flustered you were, you looked down.

You walked a few good steps, when suddenly he asked, "So, are you with Hakari-senpai now?"

"Huh?" You spun around, your expression a mix of surprise and confusion.

"You two seem close."

Seem close? Seem close... wait, so Megumi had noticed...?

Suddenly, you felt incited and it made you angry. "That's none of your business," your voice carried a sharp edge, hissing. And you knew you were being a bit mean by adding, "You broke up with me, so why do you even care?"

In that moment, Megumi could've sworn his chest throbbed. Your cutting tone pierced directly into his heart, lodging itself there.

You had all rights to be annoyed, and he knew that. Why did that question even slip out of him?

"Nah, nevermind," he mumbled in response, looking away.

Awkwardness lingered afterwards. You hated this, but no, you weren't above being petty. He had broken your heart and it still stung even now. If your intentionally biting words did to him even a fraction of what he made you feel, then you would find a small sense of satisfaction in it.

But you weren't able to ponder about your mess of feelings further when Megumi abruptly yanked your arm, his voice soaking with urgency, "It's here!"

Sure enough, the grotesque cursed spirit with the shape of a giant bee broke through the walls with a bang. The two of you immediately readied your fighting stance. Megumi was ready with his divine dogs, while you with your cursed weapon.

For a while, you engaged the cursed spirit with all you had. You were trying to focus on the enemy, but you couldn't help but notice the way Megumi always looked at you every few seconds, checking for any signs of injury or harm.

Frankly speaking, he trusted your strength and knew that you were a capable sorcerer. You had been paired in a mission before and he knew both your potential and shortcomings. It was just there was something about this place that had his senses on high alert.

And his fears were proven true when you yelped and were flung onto the grimy floor. "Y/N!"

"I'm fine!" you shouted in a rush, scrambling to your feet. However, as you spun towards him, your scream tore through the hall as you caught sight of the bee lurking behind him. "Megumi!"

He got distracted. The bee quickly latched onto him and almost stung him, until he wrestled it off and summoned Nue and exorcised it.

You went to his side that instant. "Are you okay?!"

"I am." But then he winced and almost fell on his knees if you didn't have a secure grip on him. He savored your touch and breathed a sigh of relief, thinking that now you two were safe.

"Megumi! Oh god!" Panic surged through you as you pulled him close. His side was bleeding, and you widened your eyes at the sight.

"I'm okay, I promise," he rasped, looking you in the eyes. "What abo—"

Then you saw it, the flicker from deep from that corner of platform, and suddenly, you grasped the source of the unease that had been lingering within you all this time. It wasn't the bee Megumi had just exorcised—

At that moment, there was no room for thought, one thing was certain: you didn't want him to get hurt more.

He didn't manage to finish his sentence when suddenly you pushed him away with so much force he never thought you had. Everything crashed so suddenly, he didn't have the time to brace himself or grab you with him, as another cursed bee appeared out of nowhere and—

Reality flashed before his eyes as he stared at you in sheer horror. At how the cursed spirit tore your body, sinking its hollow stinger in you.

You didn't really know what happened next. Everything was muffled—the frantic movements around you turned into a blur, along with Megumi's yells. Otherworldly pain coursed through your entire being and your ears rang, then everything in your line of sight became distorted and faded, along with your consciousness. Next and the last thing you knew was Megumi's battered face, a final imprint before you succumbed to the void.

Megumi had exorcised the remaining cursed spirit and staggered to his feet—falling a few times, but he made his way towards you through gritted teeth. You are hurt. He forced himself to get to you and pull you into his arms.

And suddenly, suddenly, nothing mattered anymore as overwhelming terror consumed him upon seeing you. Blood streamed from your abdomen so much that it made a continuous pool.

"You stupid—!" He choked out, voice hitching. You were no longer conscious and it devastated him even more. "Hey, hey? Wake up—hells—"

You, who did everything you could to save your relationship. You, who cried tears for him when he blatantly broke your heart. And you, who put himself first—and now facing the consequences.

It crashed upon him in that very second, the clarity. What was he thinking back then? He still loves you.

"If you die on me, I won't forgive you."

Megumi scooped you in his arms, pressing you close to his chest, the blood seeping from his wound be damned as he looked at your serene face. His heart shattered in the worst way possible and he almost wheezed at the sticky sensation of your blood—and how lifeless you felt in his grasp—but he willed it away.

"Don't," his broken rasp echoed the walls as he took each step to get both of you out of this hellhole. He winced and hissed at his own injury, chewing his lip in frustration, at how helpless he was.

"Don't leave me."

It was like a distant, hazy memory.

Was it a memory though? No. It seemed far too real for that.

The throbbing headache pounding through your skull and shivers that wracked your body pulled you back to reality. There was a heavy pressure on your abdomen and any movement sent sharp pain shooting through you.

You gradually opened your eyes, squinting against the brightness. You were in a hospital gown, an IV was injected on your arm, and the sterile scent made your stomach twist, as nausea creeping through your guts. Your vision was still blurry as you tried to look around to find someone who waited for you. As you slowly turned your head to the side, you saw him, sitting in the chair right next your bed.

Megumi was sleeping in such uncomfortable position, his head resting on the edge of your bed. He appeared peaceful, almost childlike, devoid of his usual stoic demeanor.

Your heartstrings were tugged at this rare sight. He also sustained injuries and yet... he was waiting for you to wake up, here.

Your chest swelled with warmth, which was quickly followed by a sting of heartbreak. Still, you two broke up...

You jolted, and the inadvertent movement sent a wave of pain that seemed to paralyze your nerves, causing you to whimper. The noise woke Megumi from his slumber, as he shot his eyes open in alarm, catching your hand in his.

"Hey... Are you okay?" Megumi worriedly looked down at you with a visible frown, and the grimace of pain on your face, accompanied by trembling lips, was enough of an answer. He hastily scrambled out in slight panic, "I'll get Ieiri-san."

When Shoko came and got you the painkillers, your pain receded somewhat. Through it all, Megumi stood there, casting concerned glances in your way.

"Bedrest for the week," Shoko stated firmly, assessing your wound with a no-nonsense expression. "Your injury isn't minor—it's serious enough that you're strongly advised against excessive movement."

You could only nod in response. Megumi bowed. "Thank you, Ieiri-san." Once the doctor departed, silence settled over the room once more.

“Why did you do that?” he quietly asked then, referring to what you did for him. And when you turned to him, you saw it clearly.

He looked pale, and there was this haunted look in his eyes. It broke your heart a little.

"You were hurt." Your voice came out dry, and you realized firsthand just how parched you were. Seeing Megumi looking down never quite sat right with you. He was meant to be an unwavering presence, someone strong enough to sway your convictions.

However, a pang struck when he countered with stern eyes, "You didn't have to do that."

...he was right. You didn't have to. What he didn't know was that you were still holding on these stupid feelings, which drove you to shield him. It made you ponder: if your roles were reversed, would he not step in to protect you at all?

"Why are you here?" You weren't sure if the bitterness in your tone was evident, but you continued anyway. "You don't have to be here either."

"Don't have to?" His gaze bore disbelief, as if not believing your words. "I'm—"

"If it's because I saved you, Megumi—"

“Do not even think, even for a moment, that I won’t be concerned over you.” His voice, deep and hoarse, struck you to the core, silencing your words. “Never. I always, always want you to be safe.”

Your mind became a blank slate. Suddenly, all that mattered was his voice.

"Don't you realize how terrifying it was? Seeing you like that?" Megumi spat, his green eyes shining with intensity, teeth gritted and fists clenched. "How could you even think that I wouldn't be here—" his breath hitched, and then his lips trembled slightly, "—for you?"

You blinked quickly, a feeling stirred within you—stemming from that cursed, fragile heart of yours to be exact, evident from the rapid thumping in your chest.

You dumbly uttered, "But we are—"

"Oh, Goddamnit." Megumi cursed, and honestly you were taken aback. It wasn't really in him to swear, so this really bugged him. He ran a hand through his hair in frustration, and despite the situation, your heart skipped a beat at the sight. Even a mess in a hospital gown, your ex-boyfriend was still undeniably attractive.

He stared at you squarely in the eye, unflinching, steadfast and true, the very image of Fushiguro Megumi you admired from afar and fell in love with in the first place half a year ago. "You don't have to... say anything, if you don't want to. Right now... just hear me out."

And the things he said next... all of them, you could say, caught you entirely off guard.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry for not trying hard enough, and—damn it, for making you sad. I never, ever wanted to see you that upset."

Megumi drew in a sharp breath, averting his gaze. "And for days, I've wondered if you and Hakari-senpai are now a thing... and you know what? I hate it so much. I know I have no grounds to feel this way, after what I did, but..."

And like a train wreck, his final words hit you hard. Tears welled up in your eyes in immediate response.

“I'm a loser, and a coward too, maybe,” he shrugged, a tinge of self-deprecation in his tone. “And I suck at telling people my feelings, but I love you. I still do.”

A sob slipped out of your throat and you hastily pulled the blanket over your face, much to his surprise. He thought he had worsened things, with the way you were turning away from him.

But then, from beneath the blanket, in a croaky voice, you proclaimed, "Fushiguro Megumi, you're a complete and utter idiot."

And Megumi didn't know that he had been holding back his breath as he chuckled heartily, relieved that you would still take his ass back after this prolonged mess. He knew he still had a lot to make up for and was determined to show it through his actions.

"Maybe I am, yeah."

"That's possibly the longest shit you have ever spouted in one breath."

"Yeah..."

But he got his chance back, and he knew that you would be alright. Both of you are.

On one sunny day...

"Hey, are you alone?"

Megumi glanced up from his phone, only to be met with a random girl standing in front of him, batting her eyelashes with an ambiguous intent. He blinked at her curiously.

"No. Can I help you?"

The girl twirled her hair suggestively. "Ah, you see... I see you all in your lonesome and I think you're quite cute—"

The hell? Megumi frowned, and he was really about to give this bimbo a piece of his mind when—

Oh, oh. Forget that. Megumi's attention snapped to you on the opposite side of the crossroad. All pretty and dolled up with that crop tee and miniskirt he once mentioned would look great on you by a slip of tongue—that accidental comment earned him your teasing quips for weeks already.

"Sorry, I'm here for my girlfriend. Bye."

Abruptly dismissing the girl, he didn't catch how comically offended she was for being turned down in a span of 20 seconds. He took big strides towards you, as you crossed the street, and you immediately beamed when you caught the sight of his face.

"Megumi!"

Ah, this is going to be a good day, he thought. As he gazed at your pretty face, and caught your hand in his, clasping it tightly, reveling in your scent and the warmth of your presence beside him—

He was content, and once again it dawned on him, that he likes you so, so damn much.

"Let's get started on our date, shall we?"

[gay-dorito-dust]

Can’t stop thinking the tall horror men of homicipher. I’m like 5ft something, so I know damn well these men tower over me…am I discovering something? Maybe 👀👀👀but I know I ain’t alone. TRUE STORY: Also there was this guy that came into my place of work moths ago with his family and he was TALL, bending down to get through the doorframe TALL but he was lovely.

So how do I imagine these boy would react if they see that you’re clearly ogling them for how tall they were.

Mr crawling

Given the fact that you’ve only seen him stand once, it was enough to have your jaw dropping to the floor. He was taller than the fucking doorway that he had to manoeuvre himself under it, and suddenly you’ve forgotten that you were being kidnapped by Mr Stitch, too intrigued by his height and now understanding why he had lied to you about his ability to stand.

He thought he would scare you but in fact made you feel the complete opposite, you loved how tall he was and you couldn’t get it out of your head, even when he’s back on his hands and knees to comfort you. The illusion had worn off and now you wanted to see him tall all the time, but you didn’t want to pressure him into doing so unless he felt comfortable.

‘You’re tall, really tall.’ You said in awe as Mr crawling coddled you against his chest.

‘Scared?’ He asked as though he was fearing your answer, which broke your heart as you nuzzled your face against his shoulder in an attempt of comfort.

‘No, handsome.’ You replied as Mr Crawling made chirps and purrs of happiness as he held you closer to him.

While he’s still not fond on standing to his full height, the fear of his intimating stature would chase you away one day embedded in his heavily, he would find some comfort in knowing that you loved his tall stature and love you even more for not forcing him to do something he clearly was uncomfortable with; preferring to shower him in kisses and remind him that whether he’s standing or on his hands and knees you loved him regardless.

Mr silvair

The man can feel your eyes on his back constantly. He knows he’s taller than most but the way you looked and admired his full height like you wouldn’t be able to anymore.

He wonders whether this was something only you seemed to have or whether other humans also felt possessed by the need to gawk at people above a certain height. Or was it just you that has this particular expression upon seeing his tall stature in general.

He would take notes of how his height seemingly did something to you that then triggered a chemical reaction within your brain to make you find his height appealing and possibly a requirement in finding your perfect romantic partner.

Or more specifically people of similar height to Mr Silvair himself or anyone close enough to his height to qualify. Mr Silvair soon deduced that you liked the domineering presence of someone much bigger than you, someone who’s able to drag you wherever as though you were nothing but weightless to them, almost like a ragdoll.

He’d soon find that this is in most cases considered a kink amongst you humans who found the height difference between partner rather erotic.

Mr Scarletella

Finds your content ogling of him flattering and thinks that it means that you were finally, finally reciprocating his obsession with you for your own obsession with him.

He’s another one who takes note of how you like how tall he is in comparison to you, always looking at him whenever he was entering the room, eyes widening when you see him having to bed down to get through the doorway, and your eyes never leave him even as he’s walking towards you; seemingly getting taller with each step until he’s in front of you and you’re looking at him in awe and hitched breath.

He’s obsessed with your expression each and every time and uses his height to his advantage. Such as doing things like putting his hand above your head and on the wall, looking down at you with those obsessive eyes of his as his smile seemed to widen upon hearing your breath hitch and eyes widen once more.

His height continued to elicit a reaction out of you that Mr Scarletella loved and adored and wanted to see more of in the future.

Mr Hood

Finds your constant ogling of his height interesting.

He didn’t know why you were so surprised he’s this tall, he’s been with you this entire time and it was only recently did your mind seemed to inform you of your Incredibly stark height difference, and bam! Suddenly he’s the subject of your constant staring and ogling as though it would be the last thing you did.

It was humorous to say the least and will earn you some head pats and cheek caresses that has you leaning towards his comforting and gentle touches.

It wasn’t something that you hide from him as half of the time you didn’t realise you were doing it until Mr Hood pointed it out with curiosity, meanwhile your left flustered as your mind held certain thoughts towards his legs, thighs and large hands.

Poor Mr Hood, he understood to some extent but after a certain point it’s better to explain to him that you find his height rather appealing to you in more ways than one.

[meelusinee]

NOW SHE HAS ME UNDER HER SKIRT | M.R x READER

word count \ 3.7k | fluff & stuff | slash / mattheo riddle x reader

in which mattheo is absolutely in love with you before you two even talk for the first time (part one to lovesick!mattheo) author's note at the end!

SECOND PART HERE - lovesick!mattheo christmas edition

NOW SHE HAS ME UNDER HER SKIRT | M.R x READER

Mattheo didn’t know much about love. 

Between being raised by a dictator and his craziest follower, he already didn’t have a very good start. Especially whenever he would get in trouble, the Cruciatus Curse was definitely no joke. Not to mention everyone pestering him about the legacy he led. News flash to the Gryffindors who would try to pick on him, he found it quite obvious that he was Voldemort’s son.

Suffice to say that he didn’t know much about love. He never had a true showcase of it, never had an example of it to compare to anything. The closest he ever had being another stunted teenager by the name of Theodore that considered him his brother, but even then there was still distance.

That was until he met you.

You, the most beautiful person he had ever met in his entire existence on this Earth. Anything he  lol looked at on you he would find absolutely perfect, from the color of your eyes to the way your hair bounced in the sunlight.

That alone made it hard to approach you. Your nice demeanor seemed to make it even harder.

So, he settled with admiring from afar. Mattheo knew your schedule, the classes that you would take and every time that it varied. He would subtly watch you in classes, hang around the same areas you did during your break periods, or even where you went for fun. And, to the best of his ability, he tried to avoid things that looked bad. No more fights or cursing, not unless he was truly provoked.

His mind also got its grubby hands on the idea of a journal. A place he could write about you freely, one he charmed so only he could read it. Entries, song ideas, anything he could think of. You made him an artist, you as his perfect muse.

And it all got even better when you two finally met.

You had just walked down to the courtyard, Mary Janes clacking along the rocks as you made your way over to a small pillar.

Recently, you noticed someone sitting by the pillars a lot more than usual. He was tall, his face usually covered by his brown curls as he wrote inna small journal he always carried with him. Said tall man with a face covered by his brown curls was your current potions partner, you had both been assigned to create a Liquid Luck potion.

“Hello?” you called out gently. face tilted down just a bit as you looked down at him. His eyes locked with yours when he looked up, the most beautiful shade of molten honey you had ever seen meeting your eyes. “Hi there, stranger.”

“Hello?” he whispered back at you, eyebrows furrowed as he spoke. His face looked rather cute when it was all scrunched up like that, a light blush covering his cheeks.

“I’m your Potions partner.” you said with a smile, flattening your skirt before moving to sit down next to him. “For the Liquid Luck project.”

“Oh,” he whispered, nodding as he closed his journal. It had a rather pretty leather cover, the pages aged and covered in ink from what you could tell. “Yeah, I remember. Y/N, right?”

“Yeah,” you smiled, nodding. “And you’re Mattheo.”

“Yes I am.” he said, a soft smile coming on his face as he heard that. He looked at you with something special in his eyes, eyes that carved themselves deep into your soul with the most intricate patterns you could think of.

The trance both of you seemed to be stuck in was broken when he cleared his throat, fingers tapping on his journal. “Did you have any ideas for the project?”

“Oh,” you whispered, nodding. “Yes, yes I do. I was thinking that we head to the library and research different potion methods and whatnot. Based on Slughorn’s instructions, I’m assuming that the instructions in the books won’t help much.”

“You’re a genius.” he whispered, barely loud enough for you to hear.

“What was that?” you asked him, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“Nothing,” he said, clearing his throat as he began to sit up. “Do you want to go now?”

Mattheo thought that he was dreaming, if he was being honest.

The girl of his dreams, the girl that he had wrote almost obsessively day and night about for almost six years, that same girl was currently sitting across from him. Laughing.

“You’re ridiculous,” she smiled at his joke, her voice sweet like a piece of cotton candy melting on your tongue. He didn’t even remember what he had joked about at this point, his mind turning to mush the moment he heard that sound pass your lips.

Those lips that haunted his dreams every single night, the image of them so plush and pure he wanted to worship them like one would a holy angel. They looked absolutely perfect.

“Thank you,” he whispered, smiling softly as he rested his chin on his hand. He probably looked like a lovesick puppy, but he didn’t mind. 

“I found something really interesting in this book  by the way,” you said, Mattheo’s eyes instantly darting to where your hands were resting on the page. “It says in the recipe that we need to juice a squill bulb, which most people just cut it for. But this recipe here notes that squeezing ingredients over a funnel gets more juice out.”

“That’s really interesting.” he whispered, his gaze looking at your face as you spoke. 

“Isn’t it?” you asked with a smile. “And here it says that adding the entire Murtlap makes the potion last longer, rather than just growth.”

“That’s also really interesting.” he whispered again, gaze still stuck on your face. You looked so pretty whenever you were concentrating on things, the way your eyebrows furrowed making him think of a million different songs and rhythms. 

“Is it?” you asked with a chuckle.

“Well,” he muttered, looking at you with a small smile on his face. “I always found Potions an interesting topic.”

“Always is not a word. It’s more of a concept.” you said, humming as you continued reading the pages. Mattheo chuckled softly, looking at you like a lovesick puppy.

“You’re lovely,” he whispered. 

Theo was sitting in his bed reading a book, his curtains almost completely closed as he flipped between page to page. At least, he pretended to.

Recently, he had noticed Mattheo’s obsessive journaling habits. How his hands would be covered in ink by the time he was finished, or how he’d write until his new candle burnt out. Sometimes Mattheo would write even when the candle burnt out, instead opting for yet another one.

It was rather concerning to Theo, to say the least. Out of all of the things Mattheo could do, he was changing who he was. Self-improvement was one thing, but it seemed like he changed an obsession from fighting to writing.

“I can feel you staring at me.” Mattheo mumbled, looking back over at where Theo was sitting.

“I’m surprised you can,” Theo said under his breath, closing his book and standing up. “With how much you’ve been writing, I’d assume you get sucked in by a black hole sometime soon.”

“Oh hush,” he whispered, looking up from the journal. His hands were stained black and red with quill ink, the candle beside him still burning brightly. “Why do you keep staring at me? You’ve been doing it all week.”

“Your journal.” Theo smirked, walking behind Mattheo and placing his hands on his Mattheo’s shoulder. “What’s inside?”

“Why would I tell you?” Mattheo grumbled, continuing to write in the journal. Theo’s eyes squinted as they tried to read whatever was on the page, but the words were too jumbled to make any sense to him. No doubt a charm.

“You charmed the journal?” Theo asked curiously, looking down at Mattheo.

“Like you care.” he whispered under his breath, the quill scratching loudly against the paper. The room was quiet other than that, nothing but the quill scratching and the candle crackling.

“I do.” Theo said, his voice a bit more stern. He pulled up a chair next to Mattheo, resting his elbow on the table. “Mattheo, you’re pushing everyone away. Even me, and it’s not healthy. All you do is write in this journal, it’s kind of worrying.”

“I just like writing,” Mattheo whispered, moving his legs to rest his knees near his chest.

“About what?” Theo asked, his voice more soft than teasing.

“You’ll judge.” Mattheo whispered again, flicking the quill back and forth as his eyes glanced over at Theo. “Why do you want to know?”

“Because you’re my best friend.” Theo whispered. “I promise I won’t judge.”

Mattheo sighed before turning to the journal, pressing his wand against it as the words came into view more clearly. His handwriting was a lot more cursive than Theo first remembered, no doubt changing the more he wrote. 

“It’s a journal about her,” Mattheo whispered, flipping through some of the pages. “Love letters, poems, songs and stuff.”

“Her?” Theo asked curiously. “Who’s her?”

“Her,” Mattheo muttered to Theo, picking at his fingernails as he spoke. He looked like a blushing schoolboy who found his first love, it was rather cute to watch. “It’s, like, she’s a girl I just really like. I think about her a lot, you know? And I’m just trying to improve myself for her.”

“What’s her name?” Theo asked, resting his head against his hand as he crossed his legs.

“Y/N.” Mattheo sighed, like the word itself was a part of some holy prophecy. “She’s so beautiful, you know? Like something from heaven, just beautiful. And I just can’t get her out of my head.”

“Have you ever tried talking to her?” Theo asked, a small smile on his face.

“We have this project together right now.” he said, chuckling softly as he spoke. He was so down bad. “She took me to the library to research more about potions. Merlin, she’s so smart Theo. She figured the reason why nobody could make the potion was because the instructions were wrong.”

“So you both started researching?” Theo asked.

“She researched, yeah,” Mattheo said, before chuckling again. His hand moved to scratch the back of his neck nervously. “I kind of just sat watching her the entire time.” 

“Mattheo,” Theo chuckled softly, shaking his head. 

“You said you wouldn’t judge!” Mattheo protested.

“I’m not judging.” Theo chuckled, looking down at the journal. “I’m just confused on how you think you’ll get your girl if you can’t even talk to her. Journaling can only go so far.”

“I know,” Mattheo whispered, looking down at his journal again. “But it still helps.”

Theo nodded, looking down at the journal again. “What are you writing about right now?”

“Uh,” he muttered, looking at the pages. “It’s a song. She said something at the library that made me think of a song, I haven’t been able to get it out of my head.”  

“What’s it sound like.” Theo asked, leaning back in his seat.

“Uhm,” he whispered, picking at his nails again as he pushed the journal towards Theo. He hummed softly as he picked it up, eyes squinting as he tried to read his handwriting.

Darling, just calm with your voice

Let your heart sing, how I always enjoy 

When you say “always” is not a word

You think love is a bit absurd.

“That’s really nice,” Theo said, looking up at Mattheo with a small smirk. “This is a lot better than I thought it’d be, to be honest.”

“What did you think I was writing about?” Mattheo asked confusedly.

“Dark magic or something.” Theo chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Like you were possessed by a ghost to figure out how to resurrect themselves.”

Mattheo chuckled at that, taking his journal back. “I think you’ll find someone like this, you know. It makes life really nice.”

“Being in love?” Theo asked, an eyebrow raised.

“Yeah,” Mattheo whispered. “In love.”

“Well, there’s always an opportunity for that. And when it happens, it’ll happen.” Theo said, patting his pockets and pulling out a box of cigarettes. “But until then, there’s cigarettes.”

“You know the way to my heart, don’t you?” Mattheo snickered at that, using the lit candle to light his own cigarette.

It had been a couple of weeks since you and Mattheo had started working on your project. You had figured out how to maximize the efficiency of your potion brewing, including changing methods of brewing and preparing ingredients. After about three different trials, you had finally found the perfect way to brew the potion. 

“That’s perfect.” Mattheo smiled softly at you, chuckling softly as he scratched the back of his neck. In all honesty, it looked like a regular potion to him. “I think that’s perfect, right?”

“That is perfect.” you said, giggling softly as his reaction You found it rather cute, if you were being honest. He seemed rather nervous around you. “Thank you for doing all of this with me, the potion work and all. Most people would probably just leave it to me, you know?”

“Why would they leave?” Mattheo asked, eyebrows furrowing.

You shrugged, looking down at the potion still set in the cauldron as you spoke. “I don’t really know. I guess people consider me weird or something like that. Someone said that I was whimsical once, I don’t think it was a nice way though.”

“That’s absolutely ridiculous.” Mattheo spat. He couldn’t understand the logic of that. In his eyes, you were absolutely perfect. He would give anything in the world to hang out with you more often than he got too, and people gave that up for free? The thought was absolutely ridiculous.

You chuckled quietly at that, smiling softly. “Yeah?”

“Definitely. I mean,” he paused, looking up at you like that was the most absurd thing in the entire world. He had a small flush on his face, no doubt questioning what he was going to say. “I mean, you’re such a nice person. And I think that hanging around you is comforting.”

“And I think that you’re rather sweet.” you chuckled, looking at him with a soft smile.

“I’m being serious!” Mattheo said, looking you in the eyes. You hadn’t heard him talk this much in the entire time that you had been working with him, and you especially didn’t expect it to be him defending you. “You’re just, like, you. Which is really sweet, you know? I really like you and your whimsy, or whatever they try to call you.”

You giggled again, smiling softly at him as you scooted a bit closer. “You’re rather nice yourself, if I do say so myself.”

“Thank you.” he whispered, his voice raising a pitch as he looked at the potion. “Do we need to test this?”

“I think so.” she nodded. “Do you want to do it?”

Mattheo looked at the potion, a small frown coming on her face. If anything went wrong with the podcast, he wouldn’t want you to be hurt by it. Which led to him nodding, the best option for him obviously being him taking the potion himself. 

“I’ll bottle it for you.” you said, grabbing the small ladle and pouring it inside the potion vial. “Here, one vial of Liquid Luck for you.”

Mattheo smiled softly as he took a sniff of it. “Is it meant to smell like something?”

“No, just air. I mean, clean air. Not like toxic air or anything.” you said, before ending your small speel. “It doesn’t smell like anything.”

Mattheo nodded again, taking a swig of it before coughing. “That’s definitely hot.”

“It did just come off the cauldron.” you chuckled, fingers fidgeting slightly. “Do you feel lucky?”

Mattheo looked up at you with a look you could only describe as a lovesick puppy, a small flush covering his face as he admired you. You could only assume the amount of thoughts running through his mind were plenty, some very hard to sort through. 

“Yeah,” he whispered, blinking slowly as he looked at you. “Very lucky.”

You chuckled softly at that, your face flushing as you watched his eyes lock onto your lips. “Do I have something on my lips or something?”

“No,” he whispered softly, his Adam’s Apple bobbing as he spoke. “No, I just,”

“Something on my teeth?” you asked, shining your teeth to him.

“I want to kiss you.” he whispered. 

Your mouth closed again as you heard that, eyes locking onto his after he spoke. That didn’t last long though, as his eyes focused back on your lips again. “You what?”

“I want to kiss you.” he said a bit more clearly, his voice hoarse as he spoke. “I mean, I don’t want to pressure you. But I really want to kiss you.”

“You can kiss me.” you whispered softly to him, scooting a bit closer to him in return. 

Mattheo blinked for a couple of seconds, the shock of your answer plastered on his face. It filled you with a small sense of confidence, the blush on his face fueling your own. “I can?”

“You can.” you smiled.

Mattheo smiled brightly at that, the burn of it brighter than the sun sucking his lips in like a blackhole would. His lips immediately met yours, burning like fireworks against his skin. It was absolute bliss to him, burning through his skin and turning him into nothing but lovesick ash.

“Your lips are absolutely perfect, my love.” he whispered, his eyes boring into yours with a gaze full of adoration. “So perfect.”

“Was your luck to try and kiss me, Riddle?” you chuckled softly at him. 

“This is the luckiest moment of my life.” he whispered. 

“Theo!” Mattheo spat out, opening the dorm room door as he stormed in. His palms looked sweaty, and his face was absolutely covered in a bright blush. 

“Mattheo.” Theo said his name back, closing his book as he looked at where Mattheo had stormed in. He looked absolutely wrecked, almost drenched in sweat. “You look like you just got your ass kicked on the Quidditch field.”

“I just,” he whispered, walking closer to Theo as he paced around the room. “I just kissed her.”

“Y/N?” Theo asked, a small smile crossing her face. “You kissed her?”

“It was so perfect.” he whispered, laying down on Theo’s bed. “Like, it was like her lips had a magnetic pull on me. I couldn’t stop for the next hour. A whole hour!”

“That’s wild, mate.” he chuckled softly, patting Mattheo on the head.

“It was just perfect,” he whispered under his breath, sighing softly. “Like, I don’t know how else to describe it. Maybe like looking at a supernova for the first time.”

“You are down bad, Mattheo.” he chuckled softly at that, continuing to pat his friend on the head.

“And then we, after that right?” he said, the smile on his face only growing larger. “We snuck off to this broom closet. You know the ones. And we did, we had,” he paused, sighing in frustration as his words jumbled in his head. “You know?”

“I know.” Theo chuckled.

“I have a song idea again.” Mattheo said, sitting up again as he rushed to the journal he kept so dearly to his heart. “I will be dead to the world for the next few hours.”

“You want me to go tell Y/N that, lover boy?” Theo smirked.

“She can come in whenever.” Mattheo said, dipping his quill in black ink. “I already gave her our dormitory password.”

“You what?”

“I have a present for you.” Mattheo whispered under his breath, a small smile on his face as he walked towards you.

It was the 6 month anniversary of one of the happiest relationships you had ever been in. There was communication and there was love. Small dates near the Black Lake at midnight, with breakfast you stole from the Great Hall earlier. Times where he’d take you into town and let you dress up however you wanted, all on the cards he stole from Malfoy. Or small get-togethers like this, hangouts at the top of the Astronomy Tower. 

And the presents were always lovely. Small poems that he wrote for you, or love letters that he hand wrapped himself. A small blush or dress you had been eyeing for more than two seconds, or room decor that went with your forever indecisive aesthetics. 

“You do?” you giggled softly, gasping softly as he pulled out a small guitar. “A song?”

“I’ve written a couple for you,” he whispered. “And I wanted to sing them to you. For our anniversary.”

“I love you.” you giggled, smiling as he sat down.

He cleared his throat as he made sure the guitar was in tune, strumming a few chords before eventually developing a melody. It seemed almost hypnotic the way his hands moved, his voice humming along as he figured out the rhythm.

“Yesterday, I was a word. Left with no voice to speak it,” he hummed softly, his voice and the guitar both vibrating through the walls. You smiled brightly as you heard his voice, not realizing how pretty his voice actually sounded.

“Now I am a happy song, placed on the lips of a woman.” he sang, winking at you. He continued for a few lines, a small smirk growing on his lips as he got to the instrumental part.

“What are you going to sing next?” you asked, watching him giggle softly. “Seriously!”

“Patience,” he whispered, chuckling as he strung the melody again, his eyes darting down at the guitar. “Now she has me, under her skirt,”

“Mattheo!” you flushed, slapping his arm and breaking the rhythm of his song. “My skirt?”

The both of you burst out into a laugh at that, the sound breaking through the cold night air that breezed through the alcove you sat in. Or maybe you just felt warm in his presence, a constant feeling of love rushing through your body.

“Can I finish my song now?” he smirked.

“I suppose you could.” you whispered, resting your head on his shoulder as he continued to sing.

AUTHOR'S NOTE

my second post oh my GOD this one took a hot minute to get through. beta-reading and proof reading is definitely not my jam, and there's definitely things that i missed in this. but i hope it still works out well, especially the whole lovesick angle i was going for. if you guys haven't already, please please please go check out tamino's music. it is actually so. good. if you listen to hozier or adrianne lenker, i think you'd really like his songs (my favorites are the first disciple and habibi)

if you would like to read the second part, click here!

as always, please like, comment, and reblog! it really helps out, and i really appreciate everyone who does! if you guys have any requests or something you can request in the ask box!

[amourane]

so this is love

pairing: theodore nott x hufflepuff!reader

genre: fluff

w/c: 2.7k

summary: there's a weird feeling that erupts in theo's chest whenever he looks at you and for the first time in his life his mind goes silent.

warnings: none!

a/n: i honestly love this so much and it's so so sooo cute!

Theodore Nott was many things. Quiet, judgmental, emotionless and most importantly handsome. One of the prettiest boys in Hogwarts yet the most unapproachable. No one had ever seen a smile grace his lips and if you had tried to converse with the Slytherin he would only stare at you with blank eyes waiting for you to go away. He spoke little words but it was enough for people to get the point. Unlike his rowdy group of friends, he wouldn’t merrily join in conversation, rather make snarky remarks every now and then, an uninterested look always on his face. A scowl or a smirk always tugged at his lips as he listened to what his friends had to say. 

Even though Theo never voiced his thoughts out loud he always knew what to think. His mind was constantly running at a hundred miles per hour. Every little thing he wanted to say flitted through his mind. It was as if his head was a cacophonous symphony. 

Yet as he looked at the girl in yellow robes his mind was oddly quiet. He watched her silently as she dropped her ingredients into her cauldron. It was a rare moment. One he had discovered a month ago when he had finished his potion early and looked around to see if anyone else was done. There you were. Eyes scanning the contents of your Potion’s book but it was quite clear you had finished brewing whatever was in your cauldron as you leaned back into your seat. 

Theo’s mind was silent. 

There were no thoughts, no opinions, no judgments. He stared at you and it made him uneasy. There was something about you that unnerved him. He didn’t recall you from his other classes and it was the first time he had even seen you in Potions. As he felt the comforting silence settle in his head he concluded one thing - you were interesting and he was going to keep an eye on you.

“Nott, mate, what are you doing? I’ve been asking you to pass me a quill for about a century, have you suddenly gone deaf?” Blaise nudged Theo out of his trance and the brunette blinked for a second before passing over a quill. His partner frowned before following where his eyeline previously was and he smirked. “Still obsessing over the little Hufflepuff I see. Who knew you were capable of having feelings.”

“I don’t fancy her.”

“I never said you did.” Blaise’s smirk widened. “You came up with that on your own.”

Theo felt his face heat up. It wasn’t true. He didn’t like you, not in the slightest. He was merely fascinated at how you were able to turn his manic mind into a state of tranquillity. He looked over. You were talking to your partner beside you and Theo assumed she had said something funny because a grin had overtaken your pretty features and a giggle slipped past your lips. Theo didn’t fancy you but he couldn’t deny that you were the prettiest girl he had ever seen.

//

“He’s staring again.” Hannah said as she poked your side to get your attention. “It’s like he’s drilling holes into your skull. Do you think he wants to hex you?”

You looked up from your cauldron with a frown as you faced your friend. “He doesn’t stare at me, don’t be silly Hannah. I’m sure he has a reason for looking this way.”

“Y/n you’re terrible at finding excuses for anything. It’s so obvious he’s looking at you and his glare is starting to scare me a bit.” 

Behind your fellow Hufflepuff was Theodore Nott. Your eyes glaze over his perfectly tousled hair and his dark coloured eyes. He really was handsome. You watch as he says something to Blaise and you see a tint of pink touch his cheeks. Cute. You smiled to yourself. Merlin, he was really cute.

Theodore Nott had been watching you for a few weeks now and you weren’t oblivious enough to not notice the Slytherin’s gaze. At first you didn’t know how to react when you first felt his eyes on you. It was weird. Every time you would turn around he would already be looking down at his piece of parchment, scribbling something down with his quill. You had never caught him staring at you but you could certainly feel it. The piercing feeling of his stare made goosebumps rise on your skin. In a way you found it endearing. Sometimes you would turn around and find him, nose deep in his textbook and you could faintly see the tips of his ears blush red. It was those times you would giggle to yourself. 

It was arrogant to assume that Theo felt that way about you but for some reason you couldn’t help but get a little giddy at the thought he might. That someone like him would even think about going out with someone like you. That the cutest guy in your year would fancy you. Then reality came crashing back and you knew that a Slytherin would never be seen with a Hufflepuff much less date one.

“Hello? Earth to Y/n? You still there?” Hannah waved her hand in front of your face. “Merlin, one mention of Nott and you go all dreamy on me. When are you going to ask him out then?”

Your cheeks flared up with heat and you couldn’t help a smile that tugs at your lips. “Shush Hannah.” You try to sound serious but with your blushing face and bright grin it’s hard to do so.

“You’re actually whipped, Y/n.” Hannah let out a laugh and you let a giggle slip past your lips at her statement. You didn’t feel the need to deny it after all, maybe it held some truth. 

//

Theodore Nott always knew what to say and when but as he stood in front of you he found himself speechless. Now as his eyes wandered over your delicate hands and beautiful face he couldn’t find the words that needed to be said. His mind was quiet again. Silence. He opened his mouth to apologise for bumping into you and nearly knocking you over but no words came out. So he did the next best thing, help you grab your books.

You were scrambling to grab scrap pieces of parchment that had escaped the grasps of your books and Theo grabbed the Herbology textbook you had dropped. He watched as you gathered your things before finally meeting his gaze. You smiled and he felt his heart stop. Suddenly it was as if he was being engulfed in a tidal wave. There was a twinkle in your eyes and it set off a spark in his chest that he didn’t know was there. Theo felt himself grow hot as you stared at him and for the first time in his life he felt self conscious.

“Thank you.” You said and he felt his ears ring as your voice echoed through his mind. “I’m really sorry I wasn’t watching where I was going and I was in a rush to get to my next class. I hope you aren’t hurt anywhere.”

A beat passed.

Theo blinked. He watched as your bright expression slowly morphed into one of concern. He watched as you reached out to touch his arm.

“Theodore?”

“It’s Theo.” Is the only thing he can think to say before he realised how it must’ve sounded rude. “But you can call me Theodore. I don't mind.”

Another beat passed.

The two of you were now standing in the middle of the hallway as other students passed by. Theo could hear their whispers as they looked. The curious eyes wondering what a Slytherin could possibly be talking to a Hufflepuff about. For a second Theo thinks he’s upset you and you’re going to storm off but he’s proven wrong. The bright smile returned to your face.

“Well Theo, I’m going to need my Herbology textbook back, I’ve already been late twice this week.” 

“O-Oh yes right, sorry I forgot.”

Theodore Nott has never once stumbled over his words. Yet as he stood in front of you he found himself wrapped in a world he had never known before. He felt himself grow even warmer and he reached a hand to loosen the emerald tie around his neck. This was unlike him. He never went speechless, he never struggled to find a smart quip or retort and he most definitely never stuttered. You brought out a side to him that was new and he didn’t know if he liked it or not.

“Thank you for helping me Theo, I’ll see you in Potions.” You waved goodbye as you hurried off down the hallway. 

Theo’s eyes remained glued onto your frame as you ran. A rising bubbly feeling began in his chest and he felt his heart quicken. He gulped. You had long disappeared from his view but he still felt a burning sensation on his cheeks and he tried to cool himself down with his hands but it served no use. Giving up, he turned away and marched down the hall determined to figure out whatever he was feeling.

//

“You know staring at her won’t make her your girlfriend Nott.” Mattheo smirked as he watched his best friend. The others at the Slytherin table tittered with laughter and Theo rolled his eyes. He was now used to his friend’s teasing and even though it was relentless he didn’t pay any attention to it. Why would he? It wasn’t true anyway.

“Very funny Riddle.”

“You know me Theo, always the jokester.” He winked as he sipped the pumpkin juice in his cup.

“But seriously Theo you should ask her out if you like the girl. Salazar, it's better than drilling holes in the back of her head.” 

“Pansy’s right Nott, we’re all tired of you mooning over the girl just go ask her out already and then the two of you can go snog in the broom cupboard.” Draco snickered and the other Slytherins erupted into another round of laughter.

“Well you’ve got it all wrong I don’t fancy her.” Theo looked at his friends with a scowl present on his face. “She makes me feel all these things and I hate it. I hate how different it is. I hate how quiet everything gets when I look at her. I hate how she makes me feel and it’s all horrible and downright disgusting. It’s like I’ve got a fever whenever I’m around her and I’ve somehow contracted some life-threatening heart disease. My mouth dries up and I stumble over what I say and it’s not like me at all. So no, you’ve all got it wrong because I don't fancy her.”

With that Theo leaves the table, dinner untouched, with red cheeks and a rapidly beating heart. His friends watched dumbfounded as their friend trudged away. They all exchange knowing glances before shaking their heads at his obliviousness to his own feelings.

“That guy seriously needs to realise that sometimes not being an emotionless prick isn’t going to kill him.” Pansy dug into her beef as she scoffed at her friend’s stupidity.

Unbeknownst to the Slytherins a certain Hufflepuff was watching as their friend stormed off, her eyes never once leaving his ruby red face and the angry glare that accompanied it. She excused herself from her table before slipping away to follow a certain brunette.

//

Annoyance was the main thing that Theodore Nott felt at the moment. Anger at the persistence that he had a crush on you when he didn’t, he knew he didn’t. You had cast some sort of spell on him. Some sort of hex that made him notice every little bit about you. The way your smile lit up the room, the way your laughter echoed in his mind like the happy tinkering of a bell. Every second he saw you it was as if you overtook his senses. Clouding his sight with your beauty, suffocating him with your sweet scent, muffling his ravenous thoughts until everything was calm. 

When Theodore Nott looked at you he felt an overwhelming emotion, one that he couldn’t explain, but it made his hectic thoughts still and as cheesy as it sounded it made time itself stand still. When Theodore Nott looked at you he noticed every fine small detail like the way you like to smile at yourself whenever you get a question right or the way you tap your fingers on the desk when you’re concentrating. When Theodore Nott looked at you he felt his heart soar and he isn’t used to feeling this unnatural emotion that had been brewing inside of him.

He didn’t even notice you were behind him until he heard your voice. Soft and gentle and kind. He spun around. You had a look of concern etched upon your face and you stepped closer towards him and he backed away feeling his heart quicked once again. He glared at you hoping that his stare would force you to go away and would force whatever he was feeling to disappear.

“Are you okay Theo? I saw you leave and you didn’t touch your food, did something happen?”

You were so caring, so nice, so calm. You were so many things and Theo couldn’t take it. Couldn’t take looking at you when he could hear his heart pumping. “What are you doing to me?” He whispered, backing away further.

You frowned. “I haven’t done anything Theo. Are you sure you’re okay you look quite red and-”

“You’re lying.” He seethed. “You’re lying because why are you making me feel these things? Why does my mind go quiet, my thoughts stop, the words fail? There’s no explanation to this. I don’t understand why my heart races and everything suddenly feels hotter around me. I don’t understand this feeling I have inside me, some magnetic force that keeps pulling me to you. You’re everywhere Y/n.”

His glare intensified as he spoke, each word punctuated by a slow, deliberate step forward. “I look at you and I feel things I’ve never felt before, this bubbly warm feeling. Whenever I’m around you I can’t think of what to say. I close my eyes and I see your smile, your eyes. I can hear your laughter even if we’re in the noisiest classroom. You’re everywhere Y/n. So tell me, what have you done to me?”

A beat of silence.

The both of you stare at each other. Your frown had long gone and now you simply looked at the Slytherin in front of you trying to decipher his anger.

“It’s love Theo.” You take a step closer. “All the things you’ve just said - it’s love.”

Theo froze. His expression remained stony yet his eyes betrayed his thoughts as he looked away for a second. He blinked before looking at you once again. Your eyes, the eyes he couldn’t help but notice everywhere he went, looked back at him. His mind was no longer quiet. An outbreak of noise erupted inside his head and he struggled to grasp what was going on. He couldn’t focus. All he could hear was his own voice in his mind, overlapping, shouting, screaming, crying. It all came crashing down and Theo didn’t know what to do.

Then your lips collided with his and he stilled. The noise died down. Chaos ceased. Theo let his eyes flutter shut as he kissed you back with fervour. Your lips were soft and you tasted sweet like strawberries. He wrapped his arm around your waist and you were warm as you leaned into his touch. He felt your arms tangle in his hair and he smiled at the feeling. This felt right. This didn’t feel weird or disgusting. It was something he never thought he would feel. 

The both of you broke apart and you blinked looking at Theo with your beautiful eyes. His heart continued to race. You beamed up at him and he couldn’t help but smile back. You were so pretty, so gorgeous and you had just kissed him. His mind was finally quiet again. The strange feeling that filled his body now didn’t feel so foreign at all in fact it felt natural as he gazed at you.

“It’s love Theodore Nott. That’s what you feel.” You give him another kiss. “And it’s what I feel too.”

Theodore Nott was many things but as he closed his eyes to kiss you once again there is only one thing that he wants to be - in love with you.

[mondaymelon]

₊⊹ … 99% NOT LOVE ! | kinich x gn!reader

— in which two people notice what two people don't .

— i've gone absolutely batshit over him your honour. im going to now start writing for kinich like a crazed man dying of thirst in the desert. let it be known that streamer!au kinich, enemies to lovers with poacher mc and other ideas are coming up (no im not cheating on xiao shush)

mualani notices it.

"hehe."

and you hear it.

"so! there's a little..." she stares at you with the most serious face you've ever seen on the girl, acting suspiciously unlike herself. gesturing at you with exaggerated hand movements, then pointing toward who knows where, she eyes you. mischievously. "something that's 'going on', yea?"

and at first, you have absolutely no clue what she could be referring to. mualani is a sociable person, after all. her definition of "something" could range anywhere between a particularly cute baby saurian to an out-of-control-bonfire turned wildfire.

with the only eventful thing today being a brief morning surf session with sharky, you just sat there, never having felt more lost.

mualani grabs your shoulders in an iron grip, leaning forward to the point she's almost beginning to seem menacing. you can see the moment where she tries to think over something (which she never does quite successfully) before she straight up shouts:

"ah!! i'll just spell it out for you!! you. and kinich. bestie. spill."

.

.

.

ajaw did more than just "notice" it.

"you..! kIINICH, did you seriously have to-"

"noisy."

"selfish assh- ALMIGHTY DRAGONLORD K'UHUL AJAW HAS HAD ENOUGH OF THE DISRESPECT! TIME AND TIME AGAIN, yOU'VE-"

"once again, ajaw. be quiet."

"sure sure, and pretend i didn't see you and that someone do a little smoochy-smooch, huh?! UGH, now you've asked for it- KINICH AND LOVEY DOVEY, SITTIN' IN A TREE, K-I-S-S-I-N-"

ajaw was what you would call a "witness". though, most would use that term in regards to one seeing a crime or heinous event take place — this event was nothing of that nature.

well, as far as kinich was concerned, the matter was simple. you'd ventured all the way to scions of the canopy to give him a gift, (claiming it was for the time he'd helped you after a couple of yumkausarus hadn't enjoyed your fruit offering and instead decided to off you), and he'd refused to accept it. he wasn't one to receive reimbursement for others, and he didn't particularly like talking either — it was a well-known fact, almost law in natlan, that if the malipo ignored your words, all you need do was apologize and continue on.

well, you did exactly the opposite.

"no thanks."

"...sorry?"

"i don't need it."

"haha, so 'malipo' kinich's rumored no-nonsense nature really proved to be true! now come over here so i can give you my fucking gift!"

you were rather adamant about giving it to him. the reason? you'd bought the gift on a whim after seeing it being sold by a passing merchant, advertised as "80% only today if you buy within the next like 4 minutes" and you'd immediately dropped every mora you had. it was the most useless little thing ever, and you didn't want it at this point, but.. the deals. how could you return such an item???

naturally, you handed it off to the man you'd seen for a good two minutes before he flew, or did whatever his thing was, away. the man had remembered furrowing his brows the slightest, listening to ajaw's persistent yellings of "IT'S AN OFFERING TO ME, TAKE IT" and feeling an oncoming headache. "i said i didn't.."

as he turned to walk away, three unfortunate(?) things occured.

a rock under your shoe and a very graceful process of falling to the ground

kinich looking back (his mistake)

a kiss...?

oh, and two extra.

4. ajaw had saw it all. 5. and mualani, who had saw you from a distance and was coming to greet you, was faced with a sight she could not process.

...Now that he thought over it again, was the matter really "simple"? kinich's job was what he considered simple — split 70% to investigation, 10% to final decision, and 10% to execution, well portioned and planned out.

then, this...

.

.

.

"girlie, you've seriously got the wrong idea. i'm telling you, we aren't dating!"

"mmmokay. of course! because not-dating people kiss allll the time!"

you paused for a moment, remembering kinich's even tone, stern gaze, and... ah, a face that deserved a gold medal.

"it's only 99% not love, okay mualani? but if it wasn't..."

.

.

.

"... and it's 99% not love, ajaw."

(a/n) darling im back from jail part 2. daddys home part 2. not funny? ok. HIHIHIHI ive bene really built like a sun dried raisin lately but kinich is the healing holy water that has saved me i will write more for him in the future because i love him a stupid amount its like the first time in a decade I've written for just ONE character and AND AND

I THOUGHT HE WOULDNT OCME HOME BECAUSE I ONLY HAD 68 WISHES OUT OF MY ORIGINAL LIKE 100+ AND RUINED MY CHANCES BECAUSE OF REALLY REALLY WANTING MuALANI (i love her sm) BUT. BUT BRO CAME HOME. ON THE FIRST 10 PULL AND WON THE 50/50 JUST LIKE MUALANI DID (or is it 45/55 now idk) LIVE LAUGH LOVE KINICH !!

[ tags: ] @manager-of-the-pudding-bank, @iamdedinside, @ilyuu-archive, @falors, @swivy123, @scara-is-my-wife, @lupicalbestwolf, @justyoureader,@fiannee, @aether-darling, @aioniela, @avensuersa, @dainsleif-when-playable, @intpessimistic

( dm or comment to be added ! i might miss ur comment so just to be sure, leave a comment on the actual masterlists page on my pinned ^ ^ )

[shrimpybbq]

a meeting with the in-laws

anon: high school gf's parents coming back after they've kicked her out once the baby's born and demanding to see their “baby" and it's a whole scene

It had been three days since the newest Cameron had arrived into the world, the small baby boy kicking and screaming like a true warrior. A coked-up Rafe swore he had never seen anything so perfect as when he saw his own little boy clutched tightly within his mother’s arms, his sweet red cheeks chubby and full of life. It had taken some convincing but soon Rafe had his son against his bare chest as he softly stroked at the wisps of hair atop his head. He sat by his sleeping girlfriend’s side, quietly cooing to his son. There in that room lay his whole world, and it was then and there that Rafe made a promise to himself: no-one would hurt either of them for as long as he lived.

Rafe found his first opponents rather quickly. The small family returned to Tannyhill on the third day and began to settle back into the house, bringing their son up to the nursery they had spent hours painting. Rafe had wanted to hire someone to paint the images on the wall but had begrudgingly agreed to help his girlfriend paint them herself when she began tearing up in front of him. They had decided on a space themed nursery after Sarah suggested it. As they settled the sleeping boy in his cot, a loud knock echoed across the property. The new parents ignored it, only to hear mumbled voices from the foyer grow louder and louder. It was with a start that Rafe looked up, his bicep being clutched tightly.

“My parents…they’re here!” she whispered anxiously, her eyes widening as she looked up at him for help, “they told me that I was dead to them Rafe!”

Rafe looked at his sweet girl, taking her into his arms as she began to tremble, hands running soothingly over her back. “Hey, it’s ok. It’s gonna be ok, alright? You’ve got me here and I-I’m not gonna let them treat you like shit, ok,” he muttered. Rafe watched her pull away from him slowly, giving him a small nod as she wiped away the tears that had managed to spill over. He pressed a soft kiss to the crown of her head and whispered encouragingly “you can do this, baby.”

As they made their way down the stairs, it was clear that the Cameron’s did not take kindly to the familiar family standing in their living room. Rafe and Sarah were the two most obvious in their distaste, each wearing matching grimaces and glares. They both watched as her mother immediately ran to hug her daughter,

“Oh sweetie, there you are! My baby all grown up with her own baby - oh I’m so proud of you.”

Rafe watched as his girlfriend stood stiffly in her arms, a distraught expression crossing her face at the words. He couldn’t help but grit his teeth - he had watched as she cried for weeks after her parents kicked her out, her heart broken as they refused to answer her calls. They’d removed her existence from their lives for nine months and now here they were, claiming to love her again? No, that wouldn’t do, Rafe thought.

“Are you, though?” Rafe bit out. He grinned as all eyes turned sharply to him.

“Of course we are, our daughter has given us a strong and healthy grandchild. Why wouldn’t we be?” Her father asked, his tone filled with a certain menacing quality that both Rafe and Ward picked up on. The former ignored his father’s warning glance as he continued to speak.

“What about when you kicked her out, pregnant and alone with no money? Hmm, yeah I thought you’d remember that,” he spat, watching a flicker of shame cross the older woman’s face.

“Rafe that’s en-”

“No, come on Dad, you saw what they did to her, to my son. They didn’t give a shit until he was born, isn’t that right?”

All in the room stood in silence as the tension became so thick it could swallow them whole. It was only the audacity of her father that shattered the silence, “we want to see him.”

Fuck no, Rafe thought. He watched as his girlfriend scampered to his side, her eyes looking up at him pleading. They’d spoken often about her parents and had come to an agreement to keep them away from their family, not trusting their intentions should they come back. Almost imperceptibly, Rafe nodded towards her, a firm squeeze to her hip confirming he understood what she wanted.

“No.”

“W-what did you say to me, boy?”

“I said no. You’re not coming near my son, or my girl, now get the fuck off my property, alright?”

Ward looked between his son and the other grandfather, sighing deeply before coming towards his old friend. He spoke lowly, the rest of the room unaware of their words. It was only when both men turned back to the face their children did they speak.

“You must be very overwhelmed with all those hormones right now, sweetheart. You aren’t in your right mind,” Rafe heard her father say, fists clenching at the audacity he had, “we will come and see you next week. Maybe you could be alone next time.”

The Cameron’s wordlessly watched as Ward escorted her family to their cars. They turned back to see Rafe comforting his girlfriend, her head buried into his chest as she sobbed. Rafe stood there as his blood rushed through his body, his heart pumping rapidly in his chest. This was his first experience being a parent - of feeling a sense of unwavering protectiveness come over him. He knew then that his promise to himself in that hospital chair would never be broken, for he would do everything in his power to keep his family safe. No one would ever hurt them, and as he slowly walked his sweet crying girl back to the nursery, he knew he would kill to keep them safe.

[somehowmags]

i’ve seen a lot of posts talking about nimona’s queer messages which is great! but ive not seen as many posts talking analyzing how both ballister and ambrosius were changed to be asian, which is a shame because i genuinely think its one of the most important parts of the film! a huge part of it is a deconstruction of the model minority myth and respectability politics, both of which are big issues in the asian american community. both of them represent each side of the spectrum, with ambrosius expected to be superhuman with very little support and ballister being seen as less than human, no matter how hard he tries- a monster.

ambrosius (who is now east asian, like his voice actor eugene lee yang, who is korean with chinese and japanese ancestry), despite being in a seemingly powerful position as head of the knights and a descendant of gloreth, he isn’t really given the kind of support that this position needs- he’s constantly undermined and belittled by todd, the face of the other knights, and when asked about his emotional state by the director, represses his emotions rather than talk to her about his true feelings. this is very similar to how asian american students in schools aren’t given the support they need academically by teachers and administration, as the model minority myth leads to them being perceived as more intelligent and competent than their fellow students and therefore not needing support. he’s also held to a higher standard than any of the other knights, being immediately placed into a position of power despite just being knighted, again a reflection of the model minority myth, since asian americans are held to higher standards unfairly. despite being technically better off than ballister, he has no support, no friends, no way to seek help for his problems, and, just like ballister, is immediately thrown away the moment the director thinks he’s served his use.

ballister is now pakistani, like his voice actor riz ahmed (no, not like pedro pascal. where did this come from lol), and i’d go as far as to say that he is also, if not explicitly muslim, heavily muslim coded as well. he’s framed as a terrorist by the white, christian institution, and from then on, it doesn’t matter how good he tries to be- everyone else sees him as a monster. he’s also from a lower socioeconomic class than ambrosius and the rest of the knights- while this is initially used to frame him as a success story, after he’s framed, it’s used to cast suspicion on him. almost immediately he’s othered, with posters casting him as a foreign invader sent to destabilize the city, much in the same way that muslim immigrants are seen in real life. even when he tries to be peaceful and good, it’s always twisted so that he’s the monster of the story. while ambrosius is held to too high of a standard, ballister will never be enough for the institution to accept.

which is why both of their arcs culminate in them breaking out of the system, learning to accept what they’d been taught was monstrous, and leaving behind respectability. it’s a genuinely great commentary, and i can definitely see why riz ahmed and eugene lee yang were chosen for this, as they’ve both done activist work for their communities.