#and none are necessarily right or wrong

[paldogangsaan]

I'm agree with your meta about gods ready to take choice away from the family who worksips Father. And how it's bad and kinda comfirm what father accuses Heaven to do.

But does Father really care for this family, does he really see them as egal? He sees people as tools (Yato, Nora, Yukine, ect..), he abused his own child (Yato, Nora) and manipules them into thinking that that's love, as soon that someone isn't agree with him anymore, he resort to manipulation, abuse and violence and sometime murder. He helped to plot Bishamon murder/forced reincarnation (failed) and planned Ebisu forced reincarnation to take the koto (sucess). He doesn't care how much people, shinkis or gods suffer or die as long he has what he want.

Ebisu and Take face a choice right. But do they have really a choice in the matter? Father can't be stopped otherwhise. He's dangerous. He says that he wanted to strike gods but doesn't care how much humans will suffer in the way. What he did with Yukine and the net was not good (for me it was a kind of brainwashing).

Yes they were ready to took the choice away and that's bad, tht's what Father accuse the gods of. but i think that they didn't see any other choice they weren't happy about it. They come with the idea to destroy a grave only.

It's not like if Father was benevolent, sadly because then this choice woudn't happen. Even if the godness of sun herself treated him a a child doing a tantrum, he's very dangerous.

Yeah all is a matter of choice. A horrible and unfair choice. Yato would have cut the bounds against their will, but Take can't do that.

The gods had the choice to kill the familly and cut the way to come back to life of Father, or leave them and having a dangerous guy causing havoc and destruction, and not only to gods but to humanity too (i mean with what happen in the last chapters, the gods face a even worst choice to protect humanity from Father's plan). What they could have done? It's not like if they had more time to think about it.

And this choice is horrible. And Take and Ebisu weren't happy to have this choice to do. And i'm happy that they didn't need to kill them. Take himself said that he felt bad to have manipuled the old man into make him believe that they would do the soul ritual after his death (they can't since they're gods) but they needed to cut father's way to come back again and again, because nothing else can stop him.

what do you think?

It's not a critic of your meta, i just wanted to share my thougths with you about the whole situation =)

(in reference to this post)

i agree with some of your points, but i don’t think whether father cared specifically for that family or not is pertinent to the situation. he cares (and i use that term lightly) about humanity in general, not specific people, similarly to how gods do (tenjin saying “gods are incapable of loving humans” lives in my brain bc it applies to all gods, but also to father and that could tie into ‘becoming what you hate’ but i digress!). he uses yato, mizuchi and yukine as tools, though i believe he does love them (or at least, he believes he loves them) in his own semi-fucked up way. he holds anger towards gods and their associates for holding up and reinforcing heaven’s system, which father perceives as fundamentally unfair and wrong, so i don’t think him planning the murder/reincarnation of gods really speaks to whether or not he cares about humanity. to father, gods and humans are completely separate entities, and what he does to one isn’t necessarily what he’d do to the other. every ‘wrong’ or ‘morally reprehensible’ or ‘shitty’ thing we’ve seen him do has been to gods, shinki, or associates of gods like hiyori, which likely makes him lump them into a single category. even if hiyori’s human, he still can’t see her as anything more than someone associated with heaven (+ him not caring about specific humans, just humanity in general)

ebisu and takemikazuchi just having and considering the choice of whether or not to kill/sever the ties of that family proves them to be what father believes all gods are, regardless of intentions. and really, i think intent is the least important part of this discussion! it’s the fact that gods are above humans in pretty much every possible way, and they can use that power as they see fit, because “a god’s decision is always the right one”. it’s about the fact that ebisu and takemikazuchi (and any god, for that matter) can takes lives, sever ties, and completely alter the life of humans with zero consequences. it’s about the fact that the humans have no input on a decision that can permanently alter their lives, and how they most likely won’t even realize what was taken away, or will forget, due to the separation of the near and far shore (think hiyori completely forgetting about yato and yukine when yato goes back to father despite the fact that they changed her and her life).

it’s a morally gray situation, and arguments can be made for either side. if gods are so above humanity, why are they incapable of stopping a human like father? if heaven isn’t unjust, why should kind people like that family have to suffer? does heaven not fully take father seriously specifically because he is, or was, human and isn’t on their level? should takemikazuchi and ebisu even be able to consider that choice, and not have to tell the people affected? does them feeling guilty absolve them of the fact that they manipulated a human, a being who is supposed to be beneath them, yet they’re supposed to serve? are the humans in the wrong for calling father again and again? should they even be judged by heaven’s standards if they don’t know the whole situation? does the situation absolve takemikazuchi and ebisu of the cycle, or are they perpetuating it anyway? should ebisu and takemikazuchi be judged for perpetuating the cycle when it’s all they’ve ever known and they’re products of a system? do the ends justify the means? like i wrote in the tags of that post, the immediate dilemma of the situation was the question of whether their needs (killing father) were worth taking a choice (without consent) from someone else, and if it was an okay to do it if the affected party wouldn’t even realize that a choice was taken away. and this, of course, can lead to bigger discussions like this one jaja

it’s a super complicated situation and an argument can be made for either side, and that’s at the core of the manga itself, which i love! thanks for sharing your thoughts! i love discussing noragami <33

[raiiryuu]

Ship bias !!

⚡︎ "Ship Bias" ⚡︎ - @quiiscnt

A ship that kinda came up from the past and got to almost hyperfixation levels over the past few days has been Laxus and Mystogan.

My insane ramblings under the cut: tl;dr: It Makes Sense, Kinda

At the time Mystogan first showed up/Laxus first met him, Laxus had probably either just gotten S-Class or was close to that level -- Ivan had already been kicked out, and he and Makarov were at odds. His being able to resist the sleep spell Mystogan used, much like his grandfather, meant that he was actually able to meet this stranger, and he was fascinated. This person that went to such great lengths -- and used such strong magics -- just to hide his presence...for what?

It's one of very few relationships in Laxus's life where he took the first step. He reached out first, out of sheer curiosity, wanting to know more about this intentionally mysterious stranger. There were misgivings on Mystogan's side, of course, knowing what he knew -- but he could also see through Laxus's tough-guy act pretty easily. This teenager was hurting, though suggesting as much could easily get you fried, and he would never admit it but he was seeking someone to actually be close to after losing pretty much everyone else he'd had. His mother was dead, his father gone, his grandfather separated by a rift he was slowly realizing would always be there, the Raijinshuu hadn't quite been formed yet. He'd turned his back on his friends to focus on his own training, keeping everyone at arm's length, and now that'd backfired.

The two grew close, cautiously at first, and then over time trust grew as well. Laxus knew there was something off about Mystogan's magics, knew that at least part of it came from the staves on his back -- but he didn't know the whole story. He knew nothing of Edolas or Mystogan's purpose on Earthland for a long time, save Mystogan once telling him very basic info on Anima and that they had to be closed, but not why. Laxus learned that Mystogan had a counterpart on Earthland (phrased simply as "in this world," which was not entirely unusual for his way of speech) named Jellal that was not seen in a positive light around this time, as well. The two would often meet up between jobs and training, sharing long conversations about any number of topics somewhere out of sight of the rest of the guild. Laxus seemed intent on no one knowing he and Mystogan were acquainted at all, and after some time spent around him the answer became clearer -- Laxus didn't want to lose him to Fairy Tail, like he'd lost all else. ( Laxus even went out of his way to track down and buy a staff for him -- one that contained magic, instead of just serving as a focus -- and it ended up being one of the staves Mystogan used during Fantasia, which was carried with him to Edolas when he worked to return Fairy Tail and Magnolia to Earthland. )

There was definitely a period close to the time before the Battle of Fairy Tail where Laxus had been playing around, when he was intentionally trying to piss others off at any opportunity, experimenting with vices and finding most just didn't work, for him. When he was letting himself get angry, and wanting to drag others to that same level. But when they spent time together, Mystogan saw what most would consider his 'true colors' -- the heart behind all that anger. He saw a softer side that had been locked away since his mother's death, to shield himself from further pain. About two months before the Battle of Fairy Tail, the two came to a semi-unspoken agreement -- Laxus stopped his meaningless hookups, more committed to whatever unnamed thing was between the two, and Mystogan had resolved to, at some point, explain in more detail what was going on with him and the eventuality that would come for him. Then Laxus kicked off the 'fighting festival,' words were spoken, identities revealed, and, once again, Laxus felt everything being ripped away from him.

Except one. Despite what had happened, despite the words said, Mystogan showed himself in the alleyways after Laxus had left the Fantasia parade, reaching out himself for the first time. It was a moment he'd intended to come clean, to explain everything -- but, seeing the state the man was in, he tabled the matter. He needed support, not the news someone else was leaving. In some verses this interaction could end in a kiss, but portrayal dependence and all that applies to all of this ofc.

Laxus explained the terms of his removal from the guild, and Mystogan offered comfort and support, but it did not last long -- as the crowds started to disperse, a familiar sense of panic hit, one they hadn't felt in a while. No one could see them together, right?

Both vanished via their magics, and that was potentially the last time they ever saw each other. Laxus did not learn of the events on Edolas until the return from Tenrou, and then once the Grand Magic Games kicked off, he was asked to help Jellal blend in as his old friend for the sake of an investigation. Fun times.

The sad, doomed-from-the-start sort of relationship that simultaneously reminds him he can be soft again while also ensuring he's paranoid of ever letting that wall down again. :')

[kreoreo]

I wish I could have a full body scan that'll tell me everything that is wrong with me because what is going on

or like, have a doctor read my mind for a full week and analyze everything that's going on up there and tell me exactly why

[inkskinned]

in the time loop the only way out is to leave her there but you don't ever leave her there, never in the roughly one thousand years you have been in the same day. it is probably like "50 first dates" but you haven't stooped so low as to watch "50 first dates" yet. (but who is to say what another thousand years of the same media will bring to you, maybe you will develop a new taste).

you spent about 200 of these years sulking in a bathtub or on the couch or staring at the seaside. 300 of them have been spent slowly mapping the geographical distance you can actually get before the time loop restarts. you have a list of favorite places: one library in Western Massachusetts called "The Bookmill", which has weird hours and has never raised an eyebrow to you arriving out-of-breath and panting, asking to see a specific book on a specific shelf. There is one beach without a name in North Carolina; it is an accident of geography and ownership title disputes - and it is pristine, untouched, warm and cozy. you've taken her on a lot of picnics there. Acadia National Park. One specific birdhouse in the mountains.

you were stuck in the time loop with the money you entered it with: not enough to rent a private jet. you've robbed a bank a few times, you don't like the way it ends. maybe next century you'll get the hang of it. you don't like the look on her face when you say hang on i have to stop at the bank.

you just have to leave her, and you can go back to being a person again. you took 5 years just catching a flight and sitting in the Grand Canyon. if there's one thing you regret more than anything, it's that you hadn't gotten your passport renewed before this fucking time loop. maybe you should spend some time learning forgery - but also, like, you look like an english teacher. nobody is going to be cool about you asking to see their paper printing machines.

the world is very big. that is one of the things groundhog day gets wrong. there are no consequences, so you have literally all the time (or none of the time?) in the world. in groundhog day, he does a lot of very cool things, but in reality - your muscle memory never gets better. you can't necessarily learn how to play piano or sculpt ice, because your hands never remember the practice. but hey - maybe you'll try violin next. drums. synth.

you can open any door and walk into any conversation. money isn't really an object. you can try every meal off every menu, forever. take her on helicopter tours and into every museum and on every event that is happening right-now at-this-moment. parades and funerals and calligraphy classes.

but you are somewhat trapped by the limitations of your body. if you were reading a book, you still need to get up and go back to the library and find that book again when the day resets. (thank god for the internet). it still takes like 2 hours to board a plane, and then takeoff and landing and traffic. you've gotten off to run around on the freeway. one of the little thankful things: since your brain isn't actually developing (it's a muscle too), the days thankfully don't feel shorter to you. that would be agony.

all you have to do to leave the timeloop is let that man get away with it. that's all. in every version of yourself - forever - you have stopped him.

the problem is that this experience has convinced you of the existence of the human soul. after all, how else are you forming memories? your very cells reset. information has to be transferred somehow. and if timeloops are real, you can convince yourself other magic exists. so you have two choices here: this hell, or the next. there might be a millennia where you have been worn down to the point you can accept fate's decision. this is just not one of them. ironically - she is the one thing you have left.

and besides! if you can't always find something new in your partner, aren't you failing them? there is something new about her, every day with the same morning. every brutal day with the same orange sunset.

after all, you wanted to live with her in heaven, in eternity, and, well - isn't this second-best.

[phantomrose96]

The conversation around AI is going to get away from us quickly because people lack the language to distinguish types of AI--and it's not their fault. Companies love to slap "AI" on anything they believe can pass for something "intelligent" a computer program is doing. And this muddies the waters when people want to talk about AI when the exact same word covers a wide umbrella and they themselves don't know how to qualify the distinctions within.

I'm a software engineer and not a data scientist, so I'm not exactly at the level of domain expert. But I work with data scientists, and I have at least rudimentary college-level knowledge of machine learning and linear algebra from my CS degree. So I want to give some quick guidance.

What is AI? And what is not AI?

So what's the difference between just a computer program, and an "AI" program? Computers can do a lot of smart things, and companies love the idea of calling anything that seems smart enough "AI", but industry-wise the question of "how smart" a program is has nothing to do with whether it is AI.

A regular, non-AI computer program is procedural, and rigidly defined. I could "program" traffic light behavior that essentially goes { if(light === green) { go(); } else { stop();} }. I've told it in simple and rigid terms what condition to check, and how to behave based on that check. (A better program would have a lot more to check for, like signs and road conditions and pedestrians in the street, and those things will still need to be spelled out.)

An AI traffic light behavior is generated by machine-learning, which simplistically is a huge cranking machine of linear algebra which you feed training data into and it "learns" from. By "learning" I mean it's developing a complex and opaque model of parameters to fit the training data (but not over-fit). In this case the training data probably includes thousands of videos of car behavior at traffic intersections. Through parameter tweaking and model adjustment, data scientists will turn this crank over and over adjusting it to create something which, in very opaque terms, has developed a model that will guess the right behavioral output for any future scenario.

A well-trained model would be fed a green light and know to go, and a red light and know to stop, and 'green but there's a kid in the road' and know to stop. A very very well-trained model can probably do this better than my program above, because it has the capacity to be more adaptive than my rigidly-defined thing if the rigidly-defined program is missing some considerations. But if the AI model makes a wrong choice, it is significantly harder to trace down why exactly it did that.

Because again, the reason it's making this decision may be very opaque. It's like engineering a very specific plinko machine which gets tweaked to be very good at taking a road input and giving the right output. But like if that plinko machine contained millions of pegs and none of them necessarily correlated to anything to do with the road. There's possibly no "if green, go, else stop" to look for. (Maybe there is, for traffic light specifically as that is intentionally very simplistic. But a model trained to recognize written numbers for example likely contains no parameters at all that you could map to ideas a human has like "look for a rigid line in the number". The parameters may be all, to humans, meaningless.)

So, that's basics. Here are some categories of things which get called AI:

"AI" which is just genuinely not AI

There's plenty of software that follows a normal, procedural program defined rigidly, with no linear algebra model training, that companies would love to brand as "AI" because it sounds cool.

Something like motion detection/tracking might be sold as artificially intelligent. But under the covers that can be done as simply as "if some range of pixels changes color by a certain amount, flag as motion"

2. AI which IS genuinely AI, but is not the kind of AI everyone is talking about right now

"AI", by which I mean machine learning using linear algebra, is very good at being fed a lot of training data, and then coming up with an ability to go and categorize real information.

The AI technology that looks at cells and determines whether they're cancer or not, that is using this technology. OCR (Optical Character Recognition) is the technology that can take an image of hand-written text and transcribe it. Again, it's using linear algebra, so yes it's AI.

Many other such examples exist, and have been around for quite a good number of years. They share the genre of technology, which is machine learning models, but these are not the Large Language Model Generative AI that is all over the media. Criticizing these would be like criticizing airplanes when you're actually mad at military drones. It's the same "makes fly in the air" technology but their impact is very different.

3. The AI we ARE talking about. "Chat-gpt" type of Generative AI which uses LLMs ("Large Language Models")

If there was one word I wish people would know in all this, it's LLM (Large Language Model). This describes the KIND of machine learning model that Chat-GPT/midjourney/stablediffusion are fueled by. They're so extremely powerfully trained on human language that they can take an input of conversational language and create a predictive output that is human coherent. (I am less certain what additional technology fuels art-creation, specifically, but considering the AI art generation has risen hand-in-hand with the advent of powerful LLM, I'm at least confident in saying it is still corely LLM).

This technology isn't exactly brand new (predictive text has been using it, but more like the mostly innocent and much less successful older sibling of some celebrity, who no one really thinks about.) But the scale and power of LLM-based AI technology is what is new with Chat-GPT.

This is the generative AI, and even better, the large language model generative AI.

(Data scientists, feel free to add on or correct anything.)

[bbokicidal]

"You're So Much Alike." - [B.C.]

Summary: Where you meet his mother for the first time and capture a picture that you will treasure for years to come.

Warnings: None, just a lotta fluff.

Notes: Based on the photo above where Chris recreated his childhood picture w/ his mom.

"When was this?" Your eyes turn to your boyfriend beside you and his head tips in your direction, eyes following only a moment later. A bright smile is plastered on his face as he was previously having a conversation with his mom to the opposite side of himself.

His teeth grit as his lips pull apart in a quiet hiss of thought. "Ah... Mm." His lips press together, brows furrowing as he looks at the picture. "Think I was.. four? Three? Three or four." He nods curtly, eyes drawing up to where you stare at him. ".... What?"

Your smile grows the longer you peer up at him. He doesn't seem to realize how absolutely adorable the photo currently in your hand is. "Nothing. I just love you."

Chan's eyes wander over your own before he giggles, his hand falling to rest on your knee. "I love you too, sweetheart."

"Oh, I was so young here." His mother reaches for the photo, gently taking it from your hand to look down at it. The look on her face seems to say without words that it brings back wonderful memories she couldn't ever forget.

"Please," You murmur, catching her attention with a soft smile. "You look the exact same, Mrs. Bang."

It was kind of his mother to offer to show you baby photos of him. You hadn't necessarily expected it during your first meeting with her, but she seemed more than excited to show you the silly pictures of Chan in the bath, or pictures of him covered in birthday cake when he was two years old. He'd gotten a bit embarrassed at the bath pictures, begging his mother not to show them to you before she countered back with; "What? She's seen it all before anyway!"

And you couldn't argue with that, laughing along as you squeeze his hand in your own. "I mean, she isn't wrong."

You felt incredibly lucky to be able to tag along on this opportunity - visiting Australia with Chan for the first time. The majority of the day is spent relaxing at his family home and getting to know his family; Unfortunately Lucas and Hannah are with their friends, which you can't fault them for, but you get to spend the day with his parents. And Berry, of course.

Their pup seems to take a love to you, following you around instead of sticking to Chan. She sits at your feet while you lean against the kitchen counter and watch his father cook lunch for the group of you; And she treads only a foot or two behind you as you move to dance with Chan's mother in the dining room to the soft music that plays through the house. The room is filled with laughter and the soft banter she exchanges with you on how she may have to steal you from her son with just how charming you are.

Lunch is quiet and soothing, bodies filled with warm home cooked food and Chan's mother asking just how the two of you met - where you saw yourself in ten years, what kind of career you were interested in, and how you felt about her son. Typical first meeting types of questions - But, she seems happy with all of your answers and while you aren't looking, shares an exchanged glance with her son that is telling him to marry you.

It ends as you excuse yourself from the table and move to help Chan at the sink, washing the dishes from preparing the meal and drying them off as he handed them to you. He smiles at you helping him out, about to tell you to go shoo so he can take care of it himself and let you relax. His eyes wander in your direction as you suddenly ask if his father needs another wife - widening in surprise and whispering a soft, "Excuse me?" in shock.

"What? He's literally you but a little older!"

"Are you tryna marry my dad right now--"

-

His father excuses himself from the home about an hour later, something work related beckoning him away. His mother suggests a walk around the park Chan use to run about in when he was little and you eagerly agree, wanting to see more of the local scenery. It's pleasant, a breeze wafting through your hair and brushing over your shoulders as you go. Berry's leash is held careful but firm in your palm and she treads nearby, tail wagging in excitement at just being out.

Without being fully aware of it, you'd fallen behind the mother-and-son duo after being caught up in admiring the nature around you. As your eyes draw back to the pair ahead, you stop walking and Berry takes a few more steps before halting as well. She turns to look up at you in curiosity and when you crouch down, she comes closer to rub her nose against your arm. Hand digging in your pocket, you pull out your phone and let the pair continue walking without disturbing them. Lifting your phone to snap a photo, the picture on your screen looks lovingly familiar to one you had seen earlier.

Chan seemed extremely grateful when you showed him the picture later on - and his mother even more so that evening. His father peeked over her shoulder before gently giving the woman a shake of admiration, hugging her around the waist shortly after. "Jessica, you don't look a day over thirty." And she laughs, swatting at his arm.

Your eyes dart to Chan's and he blinks, meeting your gaze a moment later. Your eyes narrow. "Why am I just now finding out that your mom's name is Jessica?"

[madschiavelique]

A Crown Of Ink : Chapter 5 - Temperance

summary : viktor and reader work together in the library (so much banter, it's insane), then maybe there's a small fight because a guy called viktor a cripple and that causes some issues

content warnings : mentions of blood but really not that much tbh

word count : 5,4k

author's note : you thought i was gone on this one huh ? WRONG. we're so back babies! i know it's been 2 years since i've touched this baby okay, but i'm back now! hopefully i will get more time to write about this lil guy bc i love this fic.

proofread by the lovely @yaffles-world

masterlist : here

taglist : @doctorho

For the rest of the two long hours, Heimerdinger continued his lesson.

The class had come to an end, you silent, the class teeming with gossip. Professor Heimerdinger had distributed the subjects one by one to the students at the end of the lesson. He was a perfectly reasonable, friendly teacher who tried to make his pupils laugh at the expense of their historical knowledge.

When you had a lesson with him, you knew you were listening to a teacher who was wise enough to turn events and experiences into jokes to lighten the burden of his history lessons.

He was always on the lookout for questions and comments from the students, not hesitating for a moment as he gave the subjects to the groups one by one to point out the difficulties they might find and the pitfalls that might await them.

In short, Heimerdinger wanted his students to succeed, not to see a decline in the Piltover Academy's chances of success, which in the eyes of many seemed to be something to crow about rather than something to be ashamed of.

The very idea of being one of the few students to overcome these difficulties and succeed was, in your eyes, the greatest reward that could ever be given to you.

“Young folks,” he said, pointing to the two of you. “Come this way. I have reserved a subject especially for you.”

Heimerdinger didn't do things haphazardly. He gave students subjects that reflected them, or at least where he knew the results would be most interesting. You couldn't help but fear what he was up to.

When the students had dispersed, the tinkle of Viktor's cane sounded until he arrived at your side. You sighed audibly as you looked at him, crossing your arms over your chest as he gave you a winning smile.

He seemed to enjoy it when you got angry, and took great pleasure in teasing you constantly. Had he been a friend, you wouldn't have held it against him, even though your list of friends consisted mainly of Eris, Sky and Jayce. However, a friend wasn't supposed to be a problem for your success. There's only so much space in the academy for students who come out on top, and you weren't about to give yours away.

“Good,” he said at last as the last student passed through the doorway. “There's no need to point out that you two are the sharpest elements of this class, you're well enough aware of that, as is the rest of the school certainly.”

Your bickering and petty battles almost made the corridors of the school come alive again with the excitement of rumour and gossip partaking in your reputation.

“None of the fellow teachers in this establishment seem to have brought to the table, however, a possibility which seems to me to be the most interesting for both of you: teamwork.”

You arched an eyebrow, finding the reasoning profoundly moronic.

“Sir,” you couldn't help but point out, “this school is eliminatory. Why would you want to associate students who won't necessarily all have the chance to pass the exams?”

Heimerdinger chuckled, “I'm not doing it with the prospect of a pass or a gold medal waiting for you at the finish line, Miss.”

You tilted your chin up in a slight pout of surprise.

“You see, I'm not necessarily trying to prepare you for the exams, but for what will happen once they're over. Having a diploma is all very well on paper, but what counts most in the end will be what you achieve.”

“All right,” you admit, “but why put us in a pair like this?”

“It's quite simple,” he jumped up from his desk, trotting across the floor to stand in front of you, your eyes downcast on him. “In the working environment, you don't always find a shoe to fit. And when you don't have the power to dismiss your colleague just because you don't like them, you have to learn to sacrifice your temperament for the sake of the common good. Now, I'm not asking you to make sacrifices, that word is far too violent, but I am asking you to compromise.”

You exchanged a look with Viktor, your fists clenching until your knuckles were white. You'd already made enough compromises for one lifetime, and now you had to go on? He, for his part, didn't seem too bothered by the situation. How could he be so calm? So serene about the idea of cooperating?

“You don't always work with the person of your choice, and not always on the subjects you'd prefer. Oh, that's just it! Speaking of subjects…”

He stood on tiptoe, grabbing the last sheet of paper from his desk and holding it out to Viktor.

The latter, for once, frowned in pure confusion and even perhaps... irritation?

“The evolution of Zaun's power?”

Your eyes narrowed before shifting from Viktor to Heimerdinger, “Are you joking?”

“I do love to laugh young lady but the shortest jokes are the best. You both seem, for different reasons, to have an excellent knowledge of Zaun. Its political power, its evolution, and even the iconic figures who can make themselves forgotten in the shadows of its depths.”

You exhaled a shaky breath, trying to remain upright and not revolt on the spot. Heimerdinger seemed way too amused and happy of his little scheme.

“Any questions?”

Viktor read the subject and what you had to complete, “Do you have any books to recommend to us Professor?”

Heimerdinger's voice became a blur as your thoughts drifted like the Grey in Zaun. Every corner of this city was out to kill you, and even when you were out of it, it followed you like your shadow.

Were you ever going to get out of such a cycle, out of this city’s grasp ?

“Miss?”

The teacher's voice brought you back down to earth. Distracted, you simply offered a confused hum in question so that he would repeat his last words.

“Your assignment is due in a month. That gives you time to put your differences aside and find a way of working together. If you'll excuse me, my next class is coming up soon.”

He gestured towards the exit, and soon enough you found yourselves in the corridor. The momentary emptiness of the hall almost seemed to bring you back to reality.

You drew in a breath, meeting Viktor's gaze beside you. You couldn't afford to get a bad mark, especially not for a Heimerdinger course. He was one of the most renowned scientists in the country, with his own seat on the Piltover council. To produce mediocre work would be to end your career on the spot, and you were prepared to at least try to cooperate with someone like Viktor.

“Why are you not begging the teacher to put us both in different duos?” you asked while Viktor was still reading the subject content.

“Hm, I think it might be fun.” he said, not even glancing at you.

You scoffed, “You and me?” your trigger finger pointing back and forth between the two of you, “Together? Fun?”

His eyes dropped from the paper, scanning you with a changed interest.

“You'd rather go back in there and ask for a rematch like a loser?”

A muscle near your eye tensed for a moment.

He sighed, his eyes returning to the subject, “Admitting defeat takes strength.”

“So you think I'm weak ?”

But Viktor didn't seem to have the slightest interest in you at the moment.

You relaxed your shoulders, sighing. There was no point in trying to beat him, you weren't - on that subject at least - in competition.

“Can I see the subject?” you asked, reaching for the paper, but he removed it from your reach in an instant.

You frowned, this wasn't going to be easy.

“Do I disgust you?” he asked.

The question caught you off guard, your eyes blinking several times as you almost looked at him with fresh eyes.

If the question was purely physical, no, Viktor didn't disgust you. He was always accompanied at all times and in all places by that same invariable weariness that gave him a particular elegance. He had features common in Zaun, brown hair, amber eyes, and an accent that made some of the girls in your class drop like flies.

When it came to his character and personality though, it was another thing entirely.

“You annoy me,” you replied, managing to snatch the subject of his hand with enough agility that the gesture left him surprised, “but you don't disgust me.”

He remained silent for a moment. You could feel his eyes on you as yours fell on those of the subject.

“The only thing that disgusts me is your taste in pasta,” you confirmed.

He let out a little laugh, the kind that mixes humming and nose blowing, the kind you do when a remark makes you nostalgic.

“Friday, 5pm, library, don't be late.” he said simply, the clink of his cane echoing on the floor as he began to walk away.

As your eyes roamed over the page, you couldn't help but take in nothing of what was written. Your mind was stuck on him, on the trick Heimerdinger had just played on you.

He had just orchestrated a game that the whole school was going to bet on, the teachers were going to look at your situation in a new light, and in the worst case scenario, multiply the group work to put you both in pairs.

Your heart looped as you realised that this was undoubtedly another test. Heimerdinger was going to observe which of you was the best performer, the most pliable, the best at teamwork.

You had to be flawless, you had to.

Friday came earlier than you imagined, and you weren't looking forward to it in the least. You hadn't stopped thinking about it, finding yourself on numerous occasions distracted during your homework.

The card of the day you had drawn was Temperance, and the little booklet told you:

Alchemy. Mixing and harmonising opposing forces and concepts. Maintaining opposing ideas and encouraging complexity in life. Fusion produces evolution.

The archangel Gabriel, the angel messenger, is represented on the card. He wears the sign of the sun on his forehead. This is also the alchemist's symbol for gold. This card reflects the changing of the seasons and the adoption of new ideas. Temper in Latin is the act of repetition to invoke skill or to refine something, to make it sharper like a sword.

What a pain that was, and to think you'd have to endure this for a whole month of deep research and hours spent by his side working, together.

You dragged your feet as you made your way to the academy library.

It was a magnificent place, filled with the smell of varnished wood, old paper and dried ink. The ceiling was arched, the bookshelves forming real walls that separated the room like rows of pews in a church. If it hadn't been reserved for the academy's research students, it would surely have been on Piltover's list of monuments to visit.

There weren't many people there, apart from a small handful of students finishing their homework before basking in the arrival of the weekend. You were a good fifteen minutes early, and didn't see Viktor at all.

You were just about to put your bag and things down by a table and start your research, when a voice you wouldn't have preferred to hear at the time greeted you:

“Ah, there you are,” Viktor approached, coming out of one of the library corridors, “I just needed some help to get to the higher tomes.”

With his free hand, he held up a small stack of tomes, pressing them under his chin before placing them on a table with two or three other books already laid out.

You sighed, moving your things over to his table, “Have you been there for long already?”

“Why, do you care about me?” his cheeky grin made you roll your eyes.

“I think you overestimated my greatness. Which shelf?”

He said nothing, making his way to one of the shelves. You followed him. Fortunately, the women's uniforms at the academy had trousers. You wouldn't have known what to do if it had been otherwise and you'd ended up on a ladder above him.

“You know,” he began as you reached the meagre ladder to the upper shelves, “I've been looking forward to working with you.”

You arched an eyebrow, your hand gripping the ladder as you looked at him in confusion.

“Why?”

The two of you were only picking on each other, you were avoiding him like the plague, and you'd made it clear to him several times that your situation was that of a competition. So obviously you had a right to be surprised as to why he'd want to work with you.

He shrugged. “You were the top student before I came here, surely there must be a reason behind it.”

You expelled an abrupt puff from your lungs, your breath taken away by his insolence. You could only expect it after all.

You climbed a few steps up the ladder, looking for Zaun's historical tomes.

“Is that supposed to be a compliment, or am I to believe my working buddy seeks to diminish me to a fictive second rank?”

“We're in a library, alas, reality catches up to this fiction, miss number two.”

You clutched the volume in your hand, your nostrils flaring for a moment in anger. He knew how to annoy you, and you never seemed to find a single point on which you could reciprocate.

You held out the tomes one by one for him to take. “Guess I could work on a pet name for you too.”

“Be my guess.”

Once his arm was full, you took a few tomes in your hands before climbing down the ladder and walking towards the table. “And make you the honour of thinking of something to be done for you ? I'd rather lick sandpaper.”

He feigned disappointment, “So I do disgust you, this pains me.”

You set the pile of volumes down on the table, reaching into your bag to pull out paper and pens.

“Yeah well, You were supposed to pretend I didn't exist, not try to bother me to death. So I guess we're both disappointed.”

He took a seat, grabbing a volume and placing it in front of him. “So I bother you ?”

You sat down opposite him, imitating his gesture as you searched with interest for a tome to start with.

“What a transcending sense of observation you have.”

He brought both his hands up in front of him, resting his chin on the backs of his fingers.

“How do I bother you?”

You were starting to get annoyed by his questions. You had come here to work, not to chat.

“Your simple existence?” you replied, staring into his eyes.

He sighed, opening his book and noting on the page its title.

“As if yours wasn't proof that failure has a sense of humour.”

You said nothing, letting his comment wander in the air as you started your own research in silence, locating the chapter of interest to you in the table of contents.

“But seriously,” Viktor continued, “why do I bother you?”

You sighed, pinching the page you were on before shifting your eyes from the words on it to Viktor's curious amber gaze.

“You want an honest answer ?”

He nodded. You let go of the page, straightening up.

“You come into my life and wreck everything I've built brick by brick, wouldn't you be the slightest bit frustrated if that happened to you ?”

It was his turn to be silent this time. He seemed to look at you differently, as if, by some miracle perhaps, he'd just realised what was at stake for you in this situation.

He wasn't even touching the tip of the iceberg of why you'd come to the Academy, but for a moment he seemed to understand how important it could be for you.

Your eyes returned to your page, trying to find keywords to write down or information to record.

“You surpassed me in the exam, teachers love you, you make great friends…”

“Almost sounds like you're obsessed with me.”

Your lips parted, eyes wide as you looked at him as if he'd just slapped you, leaving your cheek and your thoughts with a warm tingle. You were so surprised that nothing came from your lips, which was beginning to be enough for a flash of mischief to cross Viktor's eyes and for the corner of his lips to form a sneer.

“I'm not.” You finally reply, trying to remain composed and not to stammer for anything in the world.

“Denial would've worked before the long vacant stare,” he says, advancing slightly on the table.

“Why do you have to be like that?”

“Like what?”

You humph, dropping back in your chair in despair.

“Better than me.”

He recoiled slightly, as if the remark was completely far-fetched and unfounded.

“There are thousands of people better than me, why do you have to focus on my poor self, hm? Did I barge in your territory?”

He had, unconsciously he truly had. It was you who was supposed to be first, otherwise the consequences would've been mentally dire.

“Take it this way,” he continued, “there's surely something you're better at than me.”

You couldn't think of much on the spot, especially not when there was a possibility of you making a list of things he topped you in. There was surely one thing though.

“Running.”

He opened his lips in surprise, a smile stretching across his face which he hid with his hand. You were already regretting what you'd just said.

“Jayce is going to be the first one hearing about this.”

“No it's-”

“So you're participating in a system made against disabilities.”

“I never-”

“Are you going to steal my crutch next in hopes of beating me to a race?”

“You're never going to drop this now are you ?”

“With such a statement ? Never.”

“Whatever let's just- let's just work.” you mumble, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment and shame as you desperately try to move on.

He gave one last chuckle before getting back to work. He seemed to be reading a tome on the history of the masters of Zaun.

“About Tytos, I still think you've got that wrong.” he said as he read another page from the tome.

“I think I'm going to smash your face in.” you replied calmly without looking at him.

“As if you could reach me.”

“You know what-” you began, raising your voice.

However, somebody shushed you in the room, restricting you to remaining calm.

“Raising your voice in a library? You'd have to be a stupid fool.”

“Trying to contradict me when even Heimerdinger considered my answer excellent is not the wisest either.”

“Heimerdinger would tell a snail that goes slightly faster than the norm it's excellent. But maybe your low self esteem is just common sense.”

“Maybe my self esteem will just leave this library right now.” you say, crossing your arms on the table.

“And leave me to pursue this matter on my own? That wouldn't be very serious, miss number two.”

You sighed, getting back to work. Your blood was boiling in your veins just from sitting at this table.

“None of the books mention Tytos.”

“Since when do you trust Piltover books on the accounts of the history of Zaun ?”

Touché. He raised his eyebrows as if it were the only relevant thing you could have said.

“You never said where you were from, in Zaun,” he remarked.

You tensed slightly. “Why do you want to know that ?”

“We're making an exposé on Zaun, we're both from there, might as well just know it,” he said, raising his eyes to yours.

You watched him for a moment, he didn't seem to want to make a joke of you once your answer was out of your mouth. But in any case, you weren't going to give it to him.

“You wouldn't know,” you replied simply as you jotted down another date.

‘I'm sure that I-”

“You don't want to know.’ you said firmly, the seriousness taking over your face to assure him that this was certainly not territory he wished to venture into.

He frowned, confused. He seemed deeply intrigued by you, and that made you uncomfortable. Never before in your life had anyone asked you so many questions about yourself in such a short space of time. And so here he was, shaking up every one of your pillars like a bowling ball knocking over pins.

This one, however, was not about to give way.

You looked at your watch for a moment, sighing.

“Let's work for one more hour. We'll make a plan and subparts of what we'll talk about at the end of it.”

This time Viktor seemed to get the message: silence. 

You couldn't help glancing at him from time to time. You noticed the way his long fingers flicked across the pages, the way his eyebrows furrowed as he read, the way he rested his cheek on the back of his hand with a sigh as he read a boring piece of writing. 

Or when he would click his pencil for a moment to write something down, and his handwriting would lie gracefully on the paper, scratching the grain of the paper.

It was not without surprise that, once the hour had passed, there was hardly anyone in the library but the two of you. 

When you explained your plan for the presentation to Viktor, he agreed, simply giving a few perfectly critical and serious remarks without condescending to him in any way.

“Good. I think this is a good time to stop for today,” you said as you stood up, taking a stack of books in your arms.

All in all, working with Viktor like this wasn't so bad, when it was done in silence. But as soon as either of you opened your lips to say anything, politeness left the room in great strides.

You put each tome away in its old place, both of you taking your things, and left the library. The academy wasn't closed yet, and some people still had classes or were hanging around in the corridors.

You walked side by side, your pace the same as Viktor's. All the students seemed to turn around as you passed, your duo seeming like a pair of circus animals. 

You glanced at Viktor, who didn't seem in the least affected by this.

However, a trio of students were watching you with evil, mocking eyes. You couldn't help but tense up, however, when the one who seemed as tall as he was stupid remarked: 

“Die already, cripple. You're slowing the traffic.”

Your shoulders tensed as you walked, expecting to do what you'd always had to do here despite the taunts: ignore and move on.

But Viktor wasn't going to listen to you like that.

“Thank you for your advice, I'll try euthanasia once you'll be able to count higher than the number of butterfingers you've got.”

A few chuckles echoed in the corridor at his reply, but the young man seemed to be boiling with hatred. It was as you passed in front of them that, in a cowardly move, he kicked Viktor's cane.

He lost his balance, falling face first to the ground as his cane fell beside him. The air stopped for a moment with the shock of the gesture, your eyes shifting from Viktor on the ground to the idiot who had just knocked him over. Students knelt down beside him immediately to help him.

“Oops, my foot slipped. Sorry.”

But nothing, of course, conveyed any regret at this behaviour.

He turned his back and walked off with his group of friends. Your blood ran cold.

Quickly, you grabbed Viktor's cane, which was still on the ground, and made it whistle through the air before it struck the back of the student's knees. It was his turn to shrivel up on the floor, and he immediately turned to you, his cheeks red with anger.

“Oops, my hand slipped,” you said, glancing at the crutch for a moment before returning to him. “Sorry.”

You turned back to Viktor, handing him his crutch. He looked at you with fried whiting eyes, deeply surprised by your gesture without moving a muscle.

“You fucking slut…” you heard behind you.

But as soon as you turned around, a sharp blow hit you in the cheek. The force of it knocked you back two steps, a metallic taste spreading through your mouth. You brought your fingers to your lips, hissing as you touched them, your bottom lip burning. Bringing your fingers back into line of sight, you found them bloodied.

You turned to the student, his face far too satisfied for your liking.

‘’What a brilliant idea,‘’ you breathed as, in one swift movement, you struck his crotch with the crutch.

He bent over instinctively, gasping for breath, before you punched him right in the nose. He fell, cowering on the ground like a miserable insect.

"What's going on here?" asked a stern voice.

Madame Agrane, one of your teachers, came into the corridor. Her eyes fell on Viktor on the floor, your lip split, the student on the ground surrounded by his two friends.

“Everyone in my office, now.”

You pressed a bag of ice cubes to your cheek, sitting next to Viktor who was clutching his crutch in his hands. As for the idiot, he kept grumbling and giving you nasty looks. You recognised him now, the student from the museum, the one that had called zaunites rats.

"Can someone explain to me what happened for you all to end up in such states?" questioned Agrane.

You were about to start but the idiot beat you to it.

"Madame Agrane, I was just minding my own business in the corridor when these two pupils came up to me! One was hitting me with his crutch while the other was punching me. I don't know what I've done to deserve this.' He exclaimed theatrically, Viktor and you looking at him like the most ridiculous being to ever be.

If there was one thing that helped your reputation, it was that you were known as serious students, who didn't fall into the category of those who would start a fight in the corridors for no particular reason.

"That is far from the truth," Viktor retorted calmly. "He insulted me, then made me fall, and then...’

He seemed to be hesitating over his words, or at least looking for the right term. He turned to you, letting his eyes drift for a moment to your split lip, and then back to Madame Agrane's gaze.

"... My friend protected me."

Friend? the word made you clench your jaw, inhaling. It was just a lie, just a word brought to the front to give your teacher sympathy. No, he certainly didn't mean it.

The teacher looked at you, seeming more convinced by your story than the other. Noticing this, the student couldn't help but plead his own case: 

"Madam, these two students come from Zaun. The blood of violence will always run in their veins."

Agrane seemed to give you a new look, as if you and Viktor were ready to pounce on her like two wolves.

"Is this a joke? You started all this," you said, offended.

"Beating you up would have brought greatness to Piltover." he replied.

"Oh, look at you, attempting greatness! Pity it's just an attempt." you sighed, pressing the ice pack a little closer to your cheek to put out the fire your anger was beginning to spread.

"Madam Agrane," he continued, turning to her, "you know what my patron will think about this. Imagine his reaction when he will hear how you have treated his favoured student?"

You had no idea who his patron could possibly have been, but she didn't hesitate for a second to say: 

"Miss, you'll get an hour's detention for your violent behaviour in the corridors. I hope I don't have to catch you again doing such barbaric acts."

Your eyes widened just as much as Viktor's.

"What?! But he's the one who-" you tried, pointing at the idiot who was smiling victoriously.

"There's no buts about it. The discussion is closed. You'll have your detention period this Monday."

"Madam, I think there's been a mistake." Viktor began.

"Do you want to be given detention too, young man?"

Viktor remained silent, sighing before lowering his eyes to the ground.

"Good, see you on Monday, then."

The fool stood up first, walking past you with a foolish grin on his face.

"Bet it feels just like home to be in prison by monday, hm?"

Your lip hemmed in disgust, your nose scrunching up.

"Try what you've done just once more, and I'll personally make sure you have no offspring."

He looked slightly frightened for a moment, then frowned like a child before leaving the room.

You sighed, standing up. You wanted to get out of here right away, away from the horrible feeling of injustice in your heart, away from the word ‘punishment’ burning into your skin.

Your free hand instinctively came to rest on your shoulder for comfort, and you stood up to get your things.

“You didn’t have to do this earlier, you know.” Viktor said.

You sighed, walking towards the door. “Whatever, what is done is done.”

"Hey," Viktor said, standing up behind you.

You didn't even turn to him.

"Thanks, I wasn't expecting that at all."

You waited for something, for anything that would come after what he had just said, but nothing came. Your turned to him.

"Is that all? No remarks about how I'd have been better off hitting him somewhere else, or stupid sarcasm about my action?"

He seemed surprised by your reaction, his face puzzled and almost saddened.

"We're not friends." you said, your face as cold as the ice pack on your cheek. "We're..."

But what were you apart from rivals? Two rivals working together to do a job that would rely on both of you, that wasn't really rivalry. It was camaraderie in a way, you were classmates, but friends?

You pursed your lips, a slight trickle of blood beading from them.

"See you next week."

Without further ado, you left the room. You walked down the corridors, the students staring at you like an alien. You were suffocating under all those sharp, curious, numerous stares. You pressed on, leaving the academy as quickly as possible.

Once outside, you took the first quiet alley you could find.

“Shit!” you swore, pressing your back against the first wall you could find.

You brought your hand up to your forehead, sighing until you almost felt your body slide down the wall, running your palm over your face in frustration and exhaustion.

You wanted to cry, the weight of everything feeling like it was zipping up on you like a body bag. You'd been stupid, acting on your emotions. You should have kept your head down, let the administration do its job, not invented a life of heroism trying to redress the balance that some fool had tipped.

You didn't even like Viktor, but you'd still jumped at the chance to do him justice. No, you didn't like Viktor any more than that.

But you respected him.

Could you be friends with him?

The question passed through your mind for a moment, but you ended up putting it out of your mind.

You let your head fall back against the wall. The thought of an hour's detention in your perfect record seemed to you like a thread sticking out of a beautiful dress, itching to be pulled on. You tried to console yourself, to come to terms with the fact that it was just another hour of extra study. But you couldn't help feeling heavy with pain.

Eventually you gathered up your things and walked home, hoping that the cool night air would help to quench the fire that was still boiling inside you. Winter was on your doorstep, and ready to complicate things.

✦﹒ previous chapter

✦﹒ next chapter

[usoppsstar]

Op men when you're pregnant 🍼🍼🍼

Pairings: Op men x f! Reader

Characters: Sanji, Usopp, Zoro, Luffy

Tw: none it's fluffy/ mention of boobs getting bigger

Notes: A lot of pregnant reader being fussed over and protected, if you're looking for an op reader this might not be the fic for you sorry; you're not necessarily married to them in these, except for Sanji; I've already got thoughts for a part two; as always, this is proofread but there may still be mistakes🍼🍼🍼

🍼 Masterlist Angst ver Pt.2

🍼Sanji

We all already know that Sanji's pregnant wife isn't lifting a finger. Your feet wouldn't touch the ground either if it wasn't for the exercises chopper makes you do so your labor will be easier . If you thought he pampered you before, you won't believe how he waits on you when you're having a baby.

"Hey chopper! What's this I hear about y/n having to workout!? My lovely wife is carrying our baby! Just her sitting there looking round and adorable should already be enough!"

Has a huge problem when he finds out about the exercises Chopper prescribed you until he saw just how cute you looked trying to do them. Throws a fit and gushes about how adorable you are until eventually you get frustrated with him( and trying to balance on an exercise ball) and tell him to go away.( He's also not a great influence either cuz he's quick to tell you it's fine to stop when you get frustrated, only for you both to be lectured by Chopper).

Now, Sanji might fuss with Chopper over your little cardio regimens but he takes your diet and the food Chopper recommends very seriously, and it's obvious to everyone on the crew. From how long it takes for it to be time to eat because he's taking extra time to add extra care to your dishes, to the way NO ONE is eating until you get your plate. Not that your crew has any problem with you eating first anyway( even Luffy) but your husband can get carried away and lose track of time. They eventually come up with a plan that always gets Sanji moving. Wait until you get hungry,watch as you stomp into the kitchen, and get ready to eat.

Since we're on food, it's a given that there's no craving that you can conjure up that Sanji won't make into a gourmet dish for you( unless it's something inedible like laundry detergent unfortunately). Sanji is pretty strict with your diet though, and although you don't whine much cuz anything he makes tastes amazing, there are times when you can't help but ask for something deep fried or drowned in ice cream and caramel.

Besides that though,Sanji pretty much gives you whatever you want.You are always right during your pregnancy, no matter how irrational or illogical you're being, and that's because you are getting absolutely no logic from your man. It can be asking him to get you golden cheese from the moon as a craving or telling him that the jar you can't open is plotting against you. To Sanji you can do no wrong while you're carrying you twos baby(not that you can ever do wrong in his eyes anyway)

I feel like this is a given of course but Sanji is super overprotective of you while you're pregnant,even more than usual. Always keeping an eye on you and checking on you, or asking another crewmate to look over you if he can't. It's even worse for him during a fight. Is it safer to keep you close to him the entire time or should he leave you somewhere "safe"? Is that somewhere safe, safe enough? What if someone targets you once he leaves? There's not a peaceful moment for Sanji as long as there's a threat anywhere within a hundred miles of you and because of this Sanji frets over you relentlessly during a fight. Everyone knows it would be different if you were in your original state and could defend yourself like always, but because you aren't, you don't complain when Sanji frets over you 24/7. Simply because you know that no one would hurt more than Sanji if any harm should come to you or the baby when he wasn't around to protect you.

On a fluffier note! Sanji sings to you and the baby

Late at night, when most of the crew have turned in for bed and you two(three) are the only ones left in the kitchen. He'll make you your favorite snack ,prop your feet up, and sing to you while he finishes cleaning up the kitchen. You usually drift off to sleep, and Sanji, always carries you back to your bedroom.

***🍼***

🍼Usopp

Usopp likes to dress you up, specifically in…

Overalls. He wants to see your pregnant belly in overalls.

There is nothing cuter to him. Of Course he wouldn't actually ask you to put on the jean ones, but the huge, fabric overalls that come in a variety of colors?? Yes please. Maybe it's because he enjoys wearing overalls himself but there's something about the pockets and the look itself that gives him serotonin. He likes to see you in any of the clothes he either bought or made with you in mind really. His feelings do get hurt sometimes though because as much as you appreciate him and as lovely and comfortable as the clothes are, sometimes the most comfortable outfit to you is a baggy shirt and a pair of his boxers. He'll pout but low-key, he thinks you look good in that too.

He talks to your belly all the time. He finds it fun, especially when he feels a kick. He likes to pretend that the baby is reacting to his story, even if he knows they might just be stretching or something. Besides, we all know that Usopp never misses a chance to tell an impressionable mind an outlandish story about his past. So who better to tell his tales to than his unborn baby? Get this though, despite the amazing adventures he's been on and how incredible his skills actually are now, he tells made up stories anyway. The stories are more precious to him this way, almost like a gift for his unborn child. A story no one else has heard(Besides you anyway lol).

Usopp is building baby stuff the moment Chopper tells you both you're pregnant, like for real sketching up designs that same night. He's discussing room floor plans with Franky, he's picking out fabrics for toys and paint for walls, and asking you if the baby should have a crib or a bassinet. It's low-key a stress reliever for him. There are plenty of times when you'll wake up in the middle of the night, to use the restroom or get some water, and you'll notice the light on in his workshop. Usopp Is always super careful not to wake you up whenever he does this, so you usually never notice, but whenever he can't sleep he goes to his workshop. So ever since you two have been expecting, whenever he can't seem to get some rest,he crafts things for the baby. You usually choose to sleep on the bed in there with him when you find him like this,even if he encourages you to sleep where it's more comfortable( you always wake up in his arms in your guy's bed anyway though)

Usopp would never let anything hurt you while you're vulnerable like this, and there's no fight he'll lose if you're behind him. Unlike Sanji, Usopp has no problem deciding if he'll stay behind with you and watch over you that way, or entrust you to another crewmate and do his job somewhere else. He'd much rather you stay on the Sunny rather than venturing onto the island where the danger is, and as much as he trusts his crew with your safety, he'd just be thinking about you the entire time if he left you. If push comes to shove and his role is crucial, he'll leave you with chopper or Nami or even on your own, and trust that you'll keep yourself hidden. It's not going to stop him from panicking the entire time though.

He makes it very obvious just how excited he is to welcome your new child into the world. If it wasn't evident with how much he was preparing for the arrival, how much he talks about it definitely gives it away. He's always talking about the kinds of things he'll teach them,the plants he'll show them( He's already started propagating some cuttings from his favorites), and just how incredible it is that you can carry an entire tiny person inside you like this, a part of both of you.

"It's just so fascinating that you can carry human life like this!" Usopp happily tells you one day as you sit with him while he tends to his plants outside.

"You're really incredible honey, you know that!?" He says before turning to you with a precious smile, one that makes you glad to be sharing parenthood with him.

***🍼***

🍼Zoro

Will wake up and get things for you in the middle of the night no matter how late it is. Food, water, another pillow, another blanket, it doesn't matter. It takes a little effort to wake him up but he always will.

" Zoro?....... Zoro! Baby!" You whisper as you shake him

" Hunh!? Hm?" Zoro'll sputter and sit up on his elbows.

You'd think because of Zoro's sharp instincts, he'd wake up as soon as you need him right? And he would. If you were in any danger. Someone attacking the ship? He's up in a heartbeat. A particularly intense storm? He's up before you are. You about to pee the bed? He's awake and running you to the bathroom, but unless it's something of that nature, Zoro sleeps like a rock. He just has a sort of sensor in his sleep that differentiates emergencies from minor things, and if it's a minor thing your gonna have to darn near slap his a** to get him to wake up.

Zoro may seem like he doesn't fuss over you but he does, a lot. Someone on the outside looking in might think that Zoro doesn't pay much attention to you, judging by the relaxed way he's resting on deck, but really all his attention is tuned towards you. It's always been, but since Chopper found out that you were pregnant( you two didn't even realize for a few weeks), he's been extra attentive. Noticing changes in your tone when speaking, even if it's just playful banter between you and one of the crew, or changes in your mood at all. Always giving you looks that silently ask if you're tired or if you're ready to leave. It's as if he always knows exactly what you need, almost before you do. All it takes is a single glance and he understands what you're trying to tell him. Not even just when you're uncomfortable or tired, even if you're hot or hungry. Zoro will suddenly be over with an umbrella or loudly asking sanji when it's time to eat( which always ends in a fight because Sanji was already on top of it). It might just be his observation haki but sometimes it feels like something more special than that.

Zoro doesn't talk to your belly much. He'll tell you it feels awkward and he never knows what he's supposed to say but won't admit that it's actually because the first time you guys tried it, his deep voice startled your baby( you both literally saw the jump) and he's been secretly sulking ever since. It's also a little weird for him to talk to the baby because well, you're sitting there. You always reassure him that you're not listening but he knows you are, and that if he says anything that you deem cute, you'll never drop it. So yeah, he doesn't talk to your belly much. During the day anyway. What no one knows is that Zoro talks to your belly all the time after you fall asleep. Complaints about his crewmates, how luffy almost got them all killed today,how pretty he thought you looked today, and how much he looks forward to their arrival.

It didn't really compute to him that you guys are really going to have a tiny version of yourselves until your stomach starts to show. He doesn't notice it right away but one day you lifted your shirt after your short workout session( you decided to do it in the crow's nest with Zoro) and he saw just how tight and dome shaped your stomach looked. He only realized then, that a person was really growing in there. After that, he was pretty intrigued by how he could look away and next thing he knew, your stomach was that much bigger( that and *ahem* other things). He never told you of course but you eventually found out because Zoro kept making sure he was present whenever you changed clothes. That and he's always stroking your belly whenever you both are just chilling, nowadays he doesn't even realize he's doing it until he feels the kicks against his palm.

If you ever start to feel insecure about not being able to fight with your crew( once you get too big to move swiftly) Zoro is quick to reassure that it's alright to sit back and let him and the crew handle everything for now.

" No one here doubts just how capable you are, but that's not important now. There's someone in this crew that needs you more." Zoro tells you in a stern voice as he stands in front of you.

" So let me handle this alright?" He'll also say softly.

***🍼***

🍼Luffy

Luffy talks and interacts with your belly as if your baby is already here. There's times when you actually kind of feel like a third wheel between your captain and your unborn child, and with the enthusiastic kicks and nudges you feel in response, you're justified in thinking your baby feels the same way as their dad. Besides the quick kiss he gives you before their conversation and the kiss he gives you after, there's no other indication that he acknowledges you're there( except when he mentions you).

He likes to do things like carry you around on his shoulder and describe the view to your baby when you all are about to dock on a new island because they can't see it. He also checks on you when everyone is hanging out on deck, stopping to press kisses on your cheek and tummy, or ask how you're doing and if the baby is kicking a lot( he finds it fascinating) and at night he likes to talk about his day to the two of you while laying a little of his weight on you.

Luffy had to learn to be more gentle with you now. No more flinging back to the ship with you, no more accidentally crashing into you, no more dragging you onto crazy islands he's intrigued by. He realized this for the first time when he went for a hug and your belly pressed into his and forced him to pause. It didn't take Nami to slap him in the head or Sanji to kick him. He just realized that it's not just you two anymore,there's three of you now and the smallest one depends solely on the both of you. After that he began to be more gentle with you and think just a little more about his actions.

Luffy hates it when you start to get upset, and no,not because he thinks it's annoying. He just hates for you to want for anything, especially food. You'll never get hungry as long as you have luffy around because he's always checking if you are. At first you thought it was an excuse to get more food out of Sanji, but when Luffy passed his plate to you and made sure you ate first during dinner for the first time, you knew he genuinely cared.He always encourages you to eat as much as you want too, his words always being

" It's OK! You're eating for two now!"

Of course you can't actually eat as much as Luffy thinks you should( his standards are insane) but you appreciate just how much he wants you to be happy and well-fed.

As much as Luffy likes to see you eating, he actually takes the diet Chopper gave you pretty seriously. What you thought would be late nights of sneaking into the kitchen( after bribing him with promises of letting him have some) were actually nights full of cuddles and sleepy scolding about how ' Chopper said you can't have that'. You figured it'd be pretty easy to convince luffy to help you cheat on your diet but he's pretty diligent, not wavering no matter how complain or hang on to him and instead giving you a teasing laugh and kiss. Now of course, Luffy can't actually stop you from getting a treat and he wouldn't try, if you were dead set on it, but there's something about Luffy being responsible for your sake that makes you want to be responsible too. That and the proud hugs and kisses he gives you when you resist the temptation of a sweet treat.( Luffy definitely asks Sanji to make something special but that's good for you too,though)

When it comes to your safety, unlike the other boys on this list, Luffy has absolutely no problem leaving you with the others because he knows all of them would protect their pregnant crewmate with their lives. He doesn't even mind leaving you on your own. Luffy just kind of knows when he should and shouldn't leave you alone, and if he has a feeling you'll be safe from harm, he'll leave you with a light heart. He doesn't even ask you to keep yourself safe, instead he holds you close, presses his forehead to yours, and promises that he'll stay safe, and that he'll be back for the both of you soon.

A/n: I finally finished this one, it took me way longer than I planned, but when you're a master procrastinator it gets a little difficult to write everyday. I've already thought about some head cannons for Kidd with pregnant reader, so there'll definitely be a part 2 to this. Yaaaay, I finally posted one piece content again. Thanks for reading🍼🍼🍼

[g1rld1ary]

5 people james didn't mean to kiss (and one he did) ; james potter x fem!reader

➻ first james fic!! i love reviving old fanfic trends <33

➻ word count: 4494

➻ synopsis: says it on the tin baby!

➻ warnings: swearing, allusions to sex/dirty jokes, era typical homophobia (basically nonexistent)

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

James Potter was a very affectionate person, everyone knew that. His love language was absolutely physical touch — everyone knew that too. It was also assumed, therefore, that James Potter had an extensive list of kisses. That assumption wasn’t necessarily wrong, but a good chunk of them weren’t exactly what you imagined when thinking of the great James Potter kissing someone. They were often impulsive when he didn’t know how else to express his feelings. His very first kiss, for example, wasn’t exactly the cheesy, romantic soap opera that he often advertised providing for girls.

Sirius Black

The Marauders sat in their dorm room, early on in second year. While first year was packed with ridiculous adventures and the forming of their friendship group, second year brought a new awareness of girls, romance and especially kissing. That was the topic of discussion as the boys all packed into one bed, hypothesising about what it might be like. James and Sirius led the discussion with much bravado and false confidence whilst Peter looked decidedly scared. Remus, to his credit, just looked rather amused at it all.

“But where do you touch her?” James asked, eyes still wide and innocent and twelve years old, “I can’t just stand there with my hands at my sides like a twat!”

“Don’t be stupid, you hold her like this.” Sirius bent his arms in a direction that looked borderline painful. Remus huffed and climbed off the bed, pulling both the boys with him.

“If you’re gonna kiss a girl,” Remus instructed, “You have to hold her gently. Don’t push her around like she’s dead weight. James, put your arms around Sirius’ waist like that, now Sirius, you put your arms around his neck.”

“Pete’s gonna think we’re bent,” Sirius grumbled, a red hue on his cheeks.

“You are bent, you poof,” Peter quipped from his spot on the bed. He was right, of course, but that wouldn’t come to light until fourth year. James thought this was hilarious though, and began miming exaggerated — rather sloppy — kisses. And since James never failed to cure Sirius of his moods, he did the same. Remus rolled his eyes as the two boys acted out a passionate scene, loose tongues and all, until they were no longer acting.

All four boys in the dorm were frozen as James and Sirius’ mouths had accidentally connected in their stupidity, none of them sure what to do. Seconds passed as the two stood, lips locked against each other, no one daring to move. At least, until Remus let out a long, uncharacteristic wheeze, which dissolved into a fit of giggles that he would usually be mortified by, but there was no way he was outdoing the kiss anytime soon. Peter followed along momentarily, laughing so hard barely any sound actually came out, silent heaves punctuated by gasping breaths.

Released from their stupor both boys leapt apart, wiping their mouths with their forearms. Both had comical expressions of disgust, still slightly too stunned to verbalise any of it.

“We,” James heaved, “Can never speak of this again. Ever.” Sirius agreed in a heartbeat, still unable to completely wipe the blush from his pale complexion. He probably would have dwelled on those feelings if James wasn’t James, beginning to see the humour in it soon enough. By the end of the night it was an inside joke that would proceed to be referenced countless times within the walls of Hogwarts.

So although James would tell the story of his first kiss quite differently — he alleged it was with a Ravenclaw named Keeley a few weeks later, his proper first kiss will always have been with one Sirius Black in the Gryffindor dormitories on an otherwise unassuming Tuesday evening. And that secret was held onto dearly by all four marauders until, of course, Sirius’ best man speech at James’ wedding, where the anecdote received uproarious applause, loudest of all by James himself.

2. Remus Lupin

The Marauders had all known about Remus’ ‘furry little problem’ since their second year — first for the most perceptive of the bunch. Nevertheless, the group were insistent in helping Remus in any way they could, though it was a difficult task when his alter ego had no resistance to killing them. Until Sirius had come to them with the idea of becoming animagi. It was difficult no doubt, advanced magic far beyond the teaching at Hogwarts, but the four of them were exceptional wizards each in their own way, and the project seemed somewhat manageable with four brains chipping away at it over the course of two years.

When they finally did get it, hardly any of them could believe it, least of all Remus. He had never imagined that the human side of him was worthy of this much love and devotion, let alone the monster within him. However, despite how they tried to play it off, the achievement didn’t come easily to any of them. Sirius was the first to get it, big black dog accompanying the group around the castle and becoming an unexpected staple of the Gryffindor common room. You in particular liked to cuddle up with him on the couch and spoil him with head scratches when you were stressed from school — at least until the secret was revealed and you hit him upside his human head for deceiving you.

James was second to get it, though much less gracefully than Sirius. The whole group of Gryffindors had been hanging out together down by the Black Lake, enjoying the slowly warming weather after class one day. James had the misfortune of being sat between you and Lily, which made things very confusing for his hormonal body and brain. His eyes were trained on his hands, too afraid to actually talk to either of you and embarrass himself which was what usually happened. You and Lily, however, were hell bent on making that occur. While James had had a well known crush on Lily for the last few years, ever since you’d come back to school that year post-puberty you could both tell that James was both emotionally and physically confused. You both delighted in this and used it to your advantage, Lily finding him the most annoying man on earth and you delighting in his flustered expressions (secretly finding him actually pretty cute).

After thirty minutes of torture, James couldn’t take it. You’d made one too many dirty jokes directed at him and he was a blushing mess, fidgeting awkwardly between you and Lily laughing gleefully. He excused himself quickly and uncharacteristically quietly, hurrying off to be out of sight of his friends. You all laughed as you watched him go, and Remus reluctantly stood, muttering something about making sure James didn’t drive himself crazy.

Remus headed straight to the Forbidden Forest, knowing the privacy would be what James desired in the moment. Sure enough there he was, taking a moment to breathe against a tree.

“Easy there, Potter, don’t cum in your pants,” He joked, obviously amused by the whole ordeal. James turned quickly, devastated at Remus seeing him so sexually frustrated.

“Sod off, Lupin. It’s not my fault! They both just sit there looking so fucking good, talking about all these unholy things and you expect me to just be fine with it? It’s so—” Instead of the exasperated groan Remus expected, he was met with a stag standing tall in front of him. He couldn’t help his mouth dropping open, the animal far more magnificent than he could have expected out of the fourteen year old boy.

In a weird shift of figure the deer was back to boy, and James only had a moment of shocked stillness before he was whooping and yelling in the grass. Remus joined him, the two of them yelling and dancing around like idiots in their joy. James pulled him in for a hug, appropriately masculine until he pressed a kiss onto Remus’ lips, still grinning ecstatically as they pulled away. Remus scowled in a way he hoped was convincing.

“I hate it when you do that, Potter,” He grumbled as the two of them returned to their friends.

“Yeah, right,” James laughed, pushing his glasses up his nose. “It’s a blessing to be kissed by my sexy arse.”

3. Peter Pettigrew

While all four of the Marauders were undoubtedly exceptional wizards, that didn’t always translate into their grades. For example, being so ahead in the curriculum made James Potter get lazy, often submitting subpar essays simply because he figured it was already common knowledge and he was more interested in higher level magic. He always ended up with top grades from outstanding extra credit projects, but the point still stood.

Peter was similarly a great wizard. Perhaps not so much a prodigy like James or Sirius, and didn’t dominate the class ranks like Remus, but he did well for himself and was pretty exceptional in Herbology and Care of Magical Creatures. However, he was failing History of Magic. All four of them had chosen the subject for their OWLs, assuming it would be an easy O because of the ghost professor. They couldn’t be more wrong. Binns was a useless teacher and Peter especially found it difficult to teach himself the material just from the textbook, and was falling dreadfully behind, each essay earning a worse grade than the last.

James had offered to help tutor him before their exams, and the two buckled down in the library almost every day in the weeks leading up to exam season. Peter made pretty good progress, eager to catch up with his friends and prove he was on their level. Still, everyone was nervous for the test and its outcome.

When results were released, you and the Gryffindors were all together. Whilst you and the girls all got the reveal over and done with, the boys all waited with bated breaths. Most of the grades weren’t shocking — three of them knew they could easily get top grades from the little effort they put in, but they were all waiting on Peter’s History of Magic grade. The blond boy opened his paper with shaky hands, eyes scanning frantically over the information contained. Slowly he raised his head, nervous smile apparent.

“I got an A,” He said, and within an instant the boys were on top of him, congratulating him with strong hugs or by clapping him on the back. James grabbed both of his cheeks, pressing them together and pushing a kiss onto Peter’s lips.

“Prongs!” Peter moaned, pushing his face away half-heartedly.

“I’m just proud of you, Wormtail,” He cooed, appearing much like his mother whom you all adored.

“Oi, Potter,” You interrupted, waving your sheet of results around. “I got an O in Potions — where’s my kiss?” James immediately broke your eye contact, and you pretended you weren’t charmed by his embarrassed little smile. He mumbled a response that had his friends ripping him to shreds, egging him on whilst simultaneously teasing him and his alleged manhood. He pressed a gentle peck to your forehead and you raised an eyebrow.

“Not what I meant, but ok.”

4. Regulus Black

Regulus Black had a difficult relationship with the Marauders, to say the very least. By his fifth year — the rest of the boys’ sixth — Sirius had been at the Potter’s for months and Regulus was still reeling from the impact. He was noticeably quieter and more sombre than in years previous, and a dangerous resentment for his brother and his friends bubbled under his skin.

James Potter connected these dots quickly. However, he didn’t really know what to do about it. He wasn’t sorry that Sirius was living with him, but he didn’t like that Regulus was left all alone with their wicked parents, regardless of their personal differences. That brought James to you.

You sat together on the couch, his head resting next to your thighs, curls just brushing against your skin in a way that you couldn’t stop thinking about. He was lamenting about his mental struggles as you worked on your crochet, thinking quietly as he rambled on.

“Why don’t you just talk to him?” You asked suddenly, and James tilted his head to look up at you, holding back his laughter at your upside down appearance.

“What?” He asked, “I can’t talk to him, he hates me!”

“When has that ever stopped you before? Lily hates you and yet you bother her all the time,” You said, smile playing on your lips.

“That’s not true!” James protested, “I don’t bother her that much anymore!” You rolled your eyes playfully and turned back to your craft as James continued to ponder the situation.

As usual, he decided you were right. And so he sent a short letter to Regulus, asking for a meeting on the Astronomy tower at midnight. Surprisingly he’d agreed, and the two boys were standing awkwardly across each other on the tower. Regulus refused to start the conversation and so stood in silence, staring down James in an effort to scare him off. James wouldn’t be deterred.

“I just wanted to talk about what happened last year,” He said, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose nervously.

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

“C’mon. I know we’re not friends, but I also figured none of your friends are the talking type either. So, I thought you could talk to me — full confidentiality. I don’t know, blame me, yell at me, I just don’t want you to do this all by yourself.”

“How sweet, Potter,” He sneered, “But I don’t need to talk about any of my feelings.”

James Potter was nothing if not persistent.

“Ok, well if you don’t want to talk, how about you listen?” To his surprise, Regulus stayed. One perfect eyebrow raised, he slowly sat next to James, legs dangling over the edge of the tower. After a gesture for him to go on, James started. He began to talk about the process of having Sirius live with him, the feelings they both had about it, and the guilt they both felt about leaving Regulus alone. At that Regulus looked up, eyes pooling with hope.

Then without any warning, Regulus was talking more than James had ever heard before, spilling what he supposed must have been the younger boy’s darkest secrets and vulnerabilities. James was unprepared, not actually expecting him to engage. At one point James had put a comforting arm around Regulus’ shoulder, words failing to express any of the feelings he had inside. Regulus didn’t pull away as James expected, instead only starting to cry. James just watched in disbelief as Regulus cried into his chest. Awkwardly, James arranged himself to press a gentle kiss to Regulus’ forehead right as Regulus moved to look up and speak, resulting in a ridiculous kiss between the two of them.

They jumped apart in less than a second, both with horrified looks on their faces.

“Oh my God—”

“That was an accident I swear—”

“I’m really sorry—”

“I was just trying to comfort you—”

Both boys stumbled over their words as they clambered up to their feet, putting a strictly heterosexual amount of space between them.

“Um, I’m just gonna go,” Regulus settled on, backing up towards the door.

“I’m seriously sorry, Black. It’s just something I do — doesn’t usually backfire like that.” Regulus just nodded, leaving quickly.

“Potter?” He stopped halfway through the door and James looked up. “Thanks.” James didn’t get any time to reply as Regulus was long gone, leaving him to cringe on his own. Neither of them would be telling anybody about the incident. Ever.

5. Lily Evans

You and James had been doing your will-they-won’t-they thing for a long time. Not quite since you met, but once you’d both started to notice the opposite sex you’d been participating in a battle of who could resist the longest. Teasing and cajoling were staples of your relationship. Whilst it had started as a way to pass the time; James had been in love with Lily since second year and you just liked to tease, at some point the feelings crossed over into a real and dangerous territory. However, neither of you wanted to do anything in case the feelings weren’t reciprocated, and truthfully hadn’t realised the true depth of them.

You and James were the only ones not to see the obvious: the feelings were absolutely reciprocated. It was tearing your friends apart, trying to get one of you to finally confess before you finished school forever. There were bets in place, pep talks and everything else the Gryffindors could think of to finally cause the event they’d been hoping for. Eventually, Lily had had enough.

One day you were all hanging out in your dormitory, most of you doing your homework and Marlene fiddling with a record player, trying to get it to come back to life.

“So, what would you guys think if I gave James a chance?” Lily asked, too coy to be genuine, but you were caught off-guard enough that you didn’t notice. “I mean, I know I’ve said some terrible things over the years, but now that he’s backed off he’s actually a really nice guy.”

“But… James?” You asked incredulously, essay immediately forgotten.

“Yeah, why not? He’s the hottest guy in our year, and if all goes to shit it’s only a few months until we graduate and I’ll never have to see him again.”

“But it’s James!” The rest of the girls had caught on to what Lily was scheming and delighted in joining in.

“Why shouldn’t she? It’s not like you like him, right?” Mary asked, studying your expressions. You hesitated for a moment, trying to find the right words. And just when they thought Lily had finally succeeded in getting the ball rolling you answered: “No, of course not. You go ahead, Lils.”

What started as a ploy to get you to admit your feelings only snowballed from there when Lily realised she couldn’t just back out now. And so she hatched a plan. Everything was going perfectly; Sirius and Remus had made sure the common room was devoid of younger students so no unhelpful rumours could be spread, and Marlene had been hanging out with you all evening to make sure you stuck to the schedule she’d devised.

With perfect precision, you and Marlene entered through the portrait just as Lily came down from the dorms.

“Hey, Potter,” She called, and James looked up curiously from his game of wizard’s chess. The redhead marched over to him, cupping both of his cheeks and kissing him strongly. Your jaw dropped open. You couldn’t believe Lily was just going for it like that, but even more you couldn’t believe the sick feeling creeping up from your stomach. You looked at Marlene, who only looked marginally less shocked. A glance around the room proved similar. Although they all knew Lily’s plan, it was two entirely different things to hear about her scheme to get the two of you together and seeing Lily Evans kissing James Potter.

“I’ve, uh, gotta go,” You mumbled, somehow finding your footing to run from the room, desperate to get anywhere where you didn’t have to see that, and the subsequent (or so you believed) union of a happy couple.

Lily pulled away from the kiss, eyes immediately trying to find you and she was puzzled when she couldn’t. A look at Marlene told her all she needed to know and her heart sank; she’d failed. James was looking a little more dazed than the head girl, and suddenly looked terribly awkward in his seat.

“Look, Lils. Please don’t take this the wrong way, but I don’t feel that way about you anymore. There’s— there’s someone else, and I, I have to go.” With that James headed up to his dormitory, and the rest of your friends stood in a thick silence for several moments.

“I think I just made everything worse,” Lily said, and then the chaos started.

“What the fuck did you think was going to happen?” Sirius asked loudly, running a stressed hand through his hair.

“I don’t know! I just figured maybe they’d have an epiphany and both realise they’d rather be kissing each other!” Lily cried, throwing herself into an armchair.

You

Lily was right, she’d unintentionally made everything worse. You were upset at what you’d seen and the story you’d attributed to it, and even more so at your terribly timed realisation of your feelings. Because of this you’d started avoiding James in an effort to get over him, which only made you more miserable that you couldn’t talk to your favourite person. James, in turn, hadn’t seen you enter the common room on the night of the kiss and so believed —and dearly hoped — that you were blissfully ignorant, and so was equally perplexed and distraught at the space between you. He’d tried to approach you about it but you evaded him or turned him away every time.

“Hey, love, can we please—”

“It’s fine, James,” You interrupted him, “It was all just a bit of fun, right? All the flirting, the being touchy. But now you’re with Lily and I’ll back off, I get it, don’t worry. I wish you two every happiness.” You tried to sound as genuine as you could while sadness bit at your heart, and left James standing astounded in the corridor. Now he knew that you’d seen the kiss the issue was obvious, but the solution remained a mystery to him.

You’d taken to Marlene to get your feelings out, and she listened patiently as you rattled off a monologue about your childish jealousy and broken heart. Luckily, she’d discussed how to handle this with Lily — who knew you wouldn’t go to her because of her alleged involvement with James, and set off (hopefully) your friend’s last attempt to get you two together. She finally shook you out of it, frustrated with the lack of action.

“They’re not together,” She said, stopping you in your tracks.

“What?”

“They’re not together,” She repeated, making intense eye contact with you. “It was all this dumb plan Lily had to get the two of you together. She thought if you saw James getting with someone else you’d finally realise your feelings for him. And you did, but you were supposed to stick around to hear Potter reject her and say that he liked someone else, you.” You were shocked into silence, what could you say to that?

“So,” You started carefully, “What do I do now?”

James was in a similar situation with the boys.

“She saw Lily kiss me and now she thinks I like Lily when I like her! Plus, she won’t even be in my presence long enough for me to explain that it’s all just this huge misunderstanding and it’s her I want to be snogging!” James lay dramatically across his bed as the boys sighed.

“Prongs, isn’t it obvious?” Sirius asked and James cocked his head to the side, looking remarkably like a confused puppy. “Do something she can’t ignore. Make a grand gesture to prove your feelings for her.” James thought about it, it made sense. If you wouldn’t hear his explanation, he’d just have to make you.

“How?”

You and James went into the following Saturday with the same goal. It was Gryffindor’s quidditch semi-final, so there was a party being held whatever the outcome. It would be the first time you’d see each other since you’d realised your mistake since training was taking up all of James’ time.

Gryffindor had won, thankfully, which had both of you in higher spirits. The party was already in full swing by the time you got there, opting for a smoke first to calm your nerves. You’d spotted James almost as soon as you entered, always the heart and soul of a party. You marched towards him with a purpose, but as soon as he set eyes on you he jumped up to stand on a table. Someone had lowered the volume of the music — not silent, but low enough so you could hear him yelling over it. He said your full name, clearly and intentionally in a way that had surrounding people look at you curiously.

“I love you,” He said suddenly. “I am in love with you, not anyone else, and whatever made you think that’s not true was just a huge misunderstanding. Because I love you so much, and all I want to do is snog you until I’m the only name you remember, baby.” You let out a short laugh at his vulgarity and the cocky smirk that accompanied it, but a cheek-splitting smile won out when you thought about the preceding words and the sincerity he’d instilled in them. Before you even knew what you were doing you were racing towards him, gratefully taking Peter’s hand to join James on the table.

You honestly couldn’t tell who had initiated the kiss, but you were suddenly so intimately joined together it was like all the air had been sucked out of your lungs, compressing your body in an effort to fuse to his. His strong arms around you couldn’t shield you from the confetti being thrown around (for the match, of course, not just your kiss), nor the catcalls of your friends. You only pulled away when you felt James’ tongue start exploring a little too far, mindful that half the people you knew were watching. You wore matching grins as you parted, foreheads still pressed together and breathing heavy.

While it might have taken four years, innumerable (accidental) kisses and one failed set-up plan to get there, you were sure in your heart that James Potter was the only boy you ever wanted to kiss. And so you did, over and over for the years to come, and you cheered and applauded enthusiastically as the seemingly never ending list of friends and family told stories of receiving a coveted James Potter kiss throughout the years, knowing you were the only one who got to be his bride.

[maidenvault]

The red flags are so blatant in what we see of Mother Aniseya’s coven, is it not registering for anyone else that Sol got too emotionally involved but his instincts might have been correct?

Mae and Osha don’t know anyone but this small community. No other children, no friends. Apparently they’re not even supposed to venture outside by themselves. They don’t have their own lives, brought up to basically think of themselves as one person.

Aniseya’s the only one who truly loves them and cares about Osha’s feelings. When everyone’s discussing her leaving, the others only talk about what it will mean for them and their future. They just want her power.

Aniseya singles out the youngest of the Jedi to control with her magic as a threat when they haven’t done anything hostile. It’s understandable they feel a bit threatened and I see why the Council says they overstepped, but Koril is ready from the time they show up to go to their camp and kill them all.

Why are they teaching the girls to fight like it’s so serious? If these women all just want to live here unbothered, what are they actually preparing them for? What was it going to mean when the ritual was completed with both of them, and was it going to do something irreversible?

Aniseya tells Osha that others don’t accept their ways so she wouldn’t like the outside world like she thinks. (A manipulation tactic in cults.) But with the Jedi’s perspective, it’s now clear everything they said when they interrupted the ceremony was basically a pretense for checking on the welfare of the girls and they don’t care about these witches practicing another Force-based religion or training kids. So if they’ve got this persecution complex it could certainly be because they’re actually doing something wrong. (Or just because they want to keep the power of this vergence all to themselves, all while saying they’re not like other girls 'cause to them the Force isn’t something you use or own.)

Most alarmingly once Aniseya’s dead, none of them try to get to the children in the burning building. They just keep attacking the Jedi for what they did.

Of course lots of viewers will say that many of these concerning things are problems with how the Jedi treat children, too. And that’s probably meant to be the point, that there are different ways of looking at it. But it’s telling how practically nobody’s even addressing them. This show certainly reads differently depending on the bias you come to it with.

And none of these things really give the Jedi the right to remove these children from their family. I don’t think Sol’s concern comes from nowhere, but whether Osha's safe here is a separate question from whether she should be a Jedi and not necessarily in their purview. But he’s not using clear judgment because of his feelings so he ends up just hurting Osha, surely worse than anything her own mother was going to put her through. Attachment is selfish love, it's not good actually!

[nana-au]

JJK Men React to Finding Out You Like Them

G.Satoru, G.Suguru, I.Yuji, F.Megumi

(I got carried away with Gojo's.. mb)

𓂃⊹ ִֶָ

G.Satoru: You could not stand him and his stupid, annoying, ugly (undeniably pretty) face.

Shoko and Geto swore you two bickered like an old married couple. The two of you would scoff, sometimes even pushing each other’s shoulders just to remind the other one who was stronger. It was down right childish the way you both interacted with each other. Pinching and hair pulling. Arguing over who was right and wrong, sometimes even arguing against obvious facts just to piss the other one off. You couldn’t stand his pompous attitude and he couldn’t stand the fact you weren’t in awe of him like he believed you should be. He made every hair on your body stand straight just by his voice or the way his figure loomed over you as he teased you. 

“What’s this for?” He mocked, pinching your cheek you dusted with blush. 

“None of your business,” you assured him, attempting to punch him in the gut. He would swiftly dodge it, continuing to mock you. 

“Surely it isn’t for a boyfriend. I feel bad for any guy dumb enough to be interested in you,” his glasses would slide down his nose as he looked over your figure. You didn’t hesitant to tell him to suck a dick, and it didn’t even cross his mind to not tell you that you wished you could suck his. “I’d never let you though,” he assured you and you would huff out a ‘thank God!’. You would attempt to storm off, but he kept body blocking you, and you were adamant on not making bodily contact with the guy. “Where are you going?” he quizzed and you begged him to drop it - that it was none of his business. You were getting really worked up, more so than usual. His assumption wasn’t necessarily wrong, you were trying to leave for your date with a barista from the coffee shop you frequented in Tokyo. “If you won’t tell me, I’ll have to let Sensei know. Can’t have you up to no good.” 

“Then go tell him!” you huffed. You were going to be running late if the asshole in front of you wouldn’t move. “God Gojo, you are so childish,” he only stuck his tongue out at you. You were about to start shaking with anger and against your better judgment you confessed to him. “Fine! It’s a date, make fun of me all you want when I get back,” your chest was heaving and your blood was hot. To your sudden shock, Gojo stepped out of your way wordlessly and watched as you took off out the doors. 

The next few days felt like the Twilight Zone. You did your makeup again and Gojo didn’t even bother to flick your cheeks. When you mentioned to Shoko how nice the weather was, he didn’t argue that it was ‘Just alright’. While Suguru, Gojo, and you were taking turns sparring, he didn’t hide the defeat in his face when you kicked dirt onto him after knocking him on his ass. To you, that was really the last straw. You started to feel evil for continuing your usual antics while he just took it. A few more days went by of you both ignoring each other until one afternoon you were eating lunch with Shoko talking about your date. Geto and Gojo took their usual seats across from you as you both discussed what transpired. “Maybe he doesn’t want to sound needy,” she said when you mentioned he hadn’t texted you back still. 

“He probably thinks you're ugly,” Gojo said nonchalantly. It was the first sentence he had spoken to you in days and you had to keep your jaw from dropping to the floor. You weren’t even sure if he really spoke or if you imagined it. Perhaps your brain was filling in the words you wanted to hear from him. Not that you wanted him to call you ugly per se, but the silence from him was worse than the insults. 

“So he talks.” His eyes rolled cartoonishly at your words. He stuck a spoonful of rice in his mouth before talking,

“Giv-up,” he mumbled, some rice spilling out of his mouth. Your face contorted with disgust. He swallowed, continuing, “You're unlikeable”.

“Yeah ‘cause you’re so likable yourself,” you scoff. He continued eating and the table dropped it, all choosing to change the topic. 

Honestly, you were sure that would be your last conversation with Gojo. You went about your days without his obnoxious presence. You went on another date and were getting fairly close with your favorite barista, even inviting him to meet Shoko. You all agreed to meet up at his cafe and you were awed as he described to you the drinks he made you two. You sipped them and listened as he rambled on about the ristretto shots and the milk foam. Shoko grew bored quickly, but she was happy you were happy. 

The bell attached to the door chimed, and the blood in your face drained, leaving you sickly pale. Gojo waved to you, pointing out to Geto where the three of you sat and dragged him along. “What is he doing here?” you frantically asked Shoko. She covered her face to hide her amusement, she had to give it to him, he was about to make this deathly boring conversation into an incredibly entertaining one. 

“Since when do you drink coffee?” Gojo asked you, pulling up a chair and sitting next to you. “I thought caffeine made you sick?” he pouted at you, pulling away the latte. He wasn’t wrong, you did tend to feel unwell after having caffeine, but since when did he care? 

“I can handle myself, Gojo,” you spat. Gojo ignored you, taking two big gulps from the mug and finishing it then and there. 

“Wow you made this?” he asked the guy. He nodded, looking incredibly confused. “Tastes like shit.” With a quickness you were out of your chair and pulling Gojo by the collar of his button down. “Be right back,” he snickered to the barista as you dragged him out the door. 

“What is your problem?” You begged. He looked shocked, telling you him and Geto were just walking by when he saw you and Shoko. You were bewildered by the way he was acting, completely stumped as to what you should even say. His hand grabbed yours that was still gripping his collar. He pulled it off and pushed it against the wall, his hand caging yours as he leaned against your intertwined fingers. His eyes watched your lips as you kept opening them to speak, but closing them when you kept losing your words. 

“Is this not what you wanted?” His words were breathy and hard to hear. “I know you are doing this-” His free hand gesturing to your figure, “to get a reaction from me.”

“You’ve really lost it now, Gojo,” you couldn’t hide the blush though. He smiled at you regardless, and your legs began to feel weak. It hit you like a truck. His smile was cocky and genuine. It wasn’t coated with his usual delusional smirk, but an all-knowing, teeth-showing grin. It was then you grew nauseous with the knowledge Suguru snitched on your drunk confession. 

You hardly remembered that night - Geto had shared his bottle of Jack Daniel’s and you were too much of a lightweight to keep yourself from admitting to him that you enjoyed Gojo’s teasing. That you were infatuated with the white-haired sorcerer and you had really started to like him. That his cocky attitude was not a turn off like you tried to convince yourself and that when he stood over you, making you feel small, you weren’t mad at him but mad you enjoyed the feeling of being towered over by him. 

“I’m not dating just to make you jealous,” you tried to stand up for yourself. You really weren’t, the guy just asked you and you had nothing better to do. You got free drinks out of it too- really that was all it was. 

“How could I be jealous when I know you like me?”

In Suguru’s defense, when you called him a traitor he assured you it was an accident. He just wanted to get Satoru out of his funk. The day he caught you looking all dolled up, just to find out it was for another man, he couldn’t get out of his own head. He also didn’t understand why he couldn’t. He pestered his best friend for days over it and Suguru had to throw in the towel. You liked him because he heard it from you. And Satoru liked you because he knows his best friend more than anyone. 

It was all worth it in the end, because things went back to normal. (Except for the small detail that Satoru and you were now a couple). 

𓂃⊹ ִֶָ

G.Suguru: The older boy’s reaction made you swoon.

You were a year below him at Jujutsu Tech and you were in awe of his cursed technique and if you were forced to be honest, in awe of him. You must’ve looked like a lost puppy following him around when you insisted on watching him train, joining him to find a snack at the convenience store, and insisting on learning about all the curses he had under his control. He was so kind about it too - always dismissing Gojo when he would groan about how insistent you were. “How can you put up with her? She doesn’t have her own life,” he would say, poking his tongue out.

 “She’s just curious, Satoru,” he would reply. He wouldn’t kid himself though, he found you absolutely adorable and didn’t mind having you under his arm all day. You weren’t much younger than him, but you felt as though he held infinite wisdom. Your eyes would twinkle up at him as he shared stories of his missions and his lips would tingle watching yours twitch with ‘oohs” and “ahhs”. He adored the way you would watch him as he ran around the track, shirtless and dripping with sweat. When you joined him he couldn’t help but keep your pace just so he could keep his attention on you. You didn’t know this when you finally confessed, but he was as infatuated with you as you were with him. He was obsessed with how obsessed you were with him. He was by no means struggling in attracting women, but to have you be so casually faithful to him, it was too hard to not take advantage of. 

The day you decided to dress up really pretty for your weekly Tuesday walk to Tokyo for lunch at his favorite place was the day you officially confessed. You wore the skirt the two of you saw one day while window shopping - the one he said reminded him of something you would wear. You even applied lip gloss even though you despise the fact your hair always gets stuck in it. “What’s got you looking all pretty?” he would muse. 

“Sugu, I like you,” you admitted, quick like pulling off a bandaid. You hadn’t even made it out of the school’s grounds when you confessed. He held out his arm to stop you and blocked the way with his tall figure. 

“I already knew that, little one,” he cooed. “Let’s go, we don’t want to be late,” he grabbed your small hand in his and continued forward. It wasn’t an official response, but you knew him so well that it was official enough for you.

𓂃⊹ ִֶָ

I.Yuji : You swear the boy must be dumb.

Your friends would definitely describe you as the shy type. You never talked out of turn or made your true feelings known so blatantly - but with Yuji - you were really trying. If Yuji said he was hungry, you would always be there to hand him his favorite candy. When his face was caked with dirt and sweat after a mission, you were there with a cloth to clean him up. If he so much as got a paper cut you would insist on applying a bandaid to his finger. You couldn’t tell if you liked helping him more than he liked being helped. He would always smile at you, warm and sincere. His eyes would hold yours, cheeks flushed a light pink. The way he would look at you, head angled down to get a good look at your face, the innocent scrunch of his eyebrows..

“You’re such an amazing friend,” he would say and you had to blink to keep your eyes from rolling back into your head. 

One day as he was happily sipping the ice cold tea you bought him, munching on the little pastry you went out of your way to get after he announced - very loudly - how starved he was, you decided enough was enough. 

“I like you,” You told him bluntly. He finished chewing his last bite before telling you he liked you too. 

“You’re a really good friend,” he smiled. You could feel your body begin to shake as you repeated what you said. 

“I like-like you, Yuji. Not friend-like. Like-Like.” Your hands went to grip the grass beneath you, desperately trying to ground yourself. His eyebrows scrunched, as if he was trying to process your confession. You couldn’t hold his eyes when he didn’t immediately respond. You turned your attention to Maki and Nobara who were training not far in front of you. Your eyes couldn’t focus on their figures as your body shouted at you to get up and bury yourself in bed for the day. His hand found your thigh, and you jumped slightly. When your eyes met him again, you swore you never saw him look so serious. His lips were in a thin line, eyes twinkling. 

“Maybe I like-like you too,” he spoke only above a whisper and you melted on the spot.

𓂃⊹ ִֶָ

F.Megumi: The boy was always in his own little world

That’s what you really liked about him. His ability to be quiet, observant, and at times lost in his own thoughts. All though, trying to get him to notice your crush on him would be harder than pulling all of your toenails off one by one. You would lay in Nobara’s bed as she admired the outfits she bought that day, trying her best to ignore your groans. 

“I should just give up now,” you whined. You had finished a long winded rant about Megumi, how he never reacted to your attention in the way you craved him to. 

“You should give up. I’m sick of hearing it,” Nobara lovingly teased. “Or you could just tell him,” You would gasp at the idea and bury your head into her pillow. 

You always found yourself to be the type of girl to read everyone’s feelings. People were like books to you, except for him. Before joining Jujutsu Tech, flirting was second nature to you. But when you saw his messy black hair and cold blue eyes your brain short circuited. You sure would try to flirt though. Giggling at his jokes he thought no one heard or playing with your hair in conversation. You would buy a new perfume and ask him to smell you, or ask if he liked the way you did your makeup that day. He would flush red and obey your asks. He would tell you that you smell great or that your eyelashes looked really pretty, but he would end it there. 

A couple days had passed since your rant to Nobara and the four of you were out in Tokyo. Yuji had insisted you all join him to the movies, and with nothing better to do you all obliged. At the theater you paid for your drink and popcorn and made your way to your movie when you noticed Nobara and Megumi weren’t following behind you. You shrugged it off and sat down with Yuji to watch the previews. The lights had already dimmed and the movie just started by the time Nobara came with Megumi in tow. “Sit,” she commanded him, referring to the spot next to you. You watched as Megumi - stiff as a board- took the seat beside you, and continued to shuffle around in his seat trying to get comfortable. 

“What happened?” you whispered to him, scared of what Nobara had done to make him act so odd. He didn’t respond and kept his eyes glued to the screen. It went on like that for a while, him still squirming awkwardly in his seat and when a jump scare came on screen and he didn’t react you turned to him again. “You act like you saw a ghost,” you joked to him. He replied dead serious.

“Just saw Nobara, that’s all.”

“What did she do?” You weren’t really sure you even wanted to know. After what seemed like hours of silence he asked if you really did like him. 

“Is it true what Nobara said?” Your mouth fell open and he was now completely facing you. You were all there for a screening of a horror movie and right now the main character was in a dark basement making it hard to see any light on Megumi’s face. From what you could see though, he looked flustered but maintained his eye contact with you. Thanks to Nobara it was now or never, and you meekly shook your head at him. He scratched the back of his neck and you could see his Adam's apple bob in his throat. Your face was hot watching him process your confession, not sure if you wanted to punch Nobara or thank her for finally putting you out of your misery. Even if it did mean Megumi no longer wanted to be near you. “I’ve just never had someone tell me that,” he finally spoke. ‘I don’t hate you, just give me time to process that,” he asked. You nodded and turned back to the screen, trying to focus on the protagonist dodging death. You had grown as stiff as him and noticing, he put his hand on your thigh, squeezing it lightly as reassurance. You both were red in the face, eyes glued to the front of the theater but not actually watching what was on it, lost in your thoughts. The process wasn’t smooth for you two, but your confession made Megumi realize his own feelings. Why he felt nervous when you were in the room and why he doubted his words before speaking to you. You both worked on it together, and your confidence with each other grew. It wasn’t long before you two went to Tokyo alone or sat in each other’s room late at night just talking. Megumi was your boyfriend by the end of the year, and you felt as giddy around him as the day you first met him. 

[seungkw1]

sketchbook — xmh

♡ pairing: xu minghao x gn!reader ♡ theme: best friends to lovers, college au, fluff ♡ wc: 3.1k ♡ warnings: none

“why did i sign up for this stupid class?”

you mumbled it under your breath, but your best friend still heard it from across the room. he looks up from the book he’s reading, a concerned frown on his face.

“what’s wrong with the class?” he closes his book, his eyes resting on yours.

“the class is fine it’s just… i’m just bad at it.”

“i highly doubt that.” he gets up, joining you at your kitchen table currently cluttered with textbooks, homework, and various drawing materials. he reaches for your sketchpad. “let me see.”

“nuh-uh,” you say, closing the book. he grabs it from you anyway.

“minghao! come on,” you shout at him. he ignores you, flipping through the pages.

“most of those are shitty reject drawings that i started and gave up on, nobody needs to see those.”

he continues perusing through the book quickly, but pauses at a particular page. you take the chance and reach for the sketchpad again, grabbing hold of it.

“wait! i like this one.”

you glance at the drawing he’s looking at. it’s the side profile of a classmate, drawn as a warm-up exercise.

“what? that was just a warm-up sketch, and it’s not even good. it looks nothing like the girl i was drawing.”

minghao looks up at you. “that doesn’t mean it’s bad. art isn’t necessarily about drawing things exactly the way they look, it’s about your interpretation of the subject. that’s like the whole point.”

“i wasn’t interpreting anything here, i was literally just trying to draw her face.”

“but look,” he says, turning the book so you can see it. “look at the way she’s looking into the distance. she looks sad, but in a nostalgic way.”

you stare at the sketch. “i don’t see it.”

“but that’s part of it too - art isn’t always about knowing the exact meaning of the piece, it’s also open to interpretation on the viewer’s perspective. and i like the way you portrayed her emotion.” 

you narrow your eyes at him. “you’re just making that up to make me feel better.”

“i’m not! i promise. i really like your art style, y/n.”

you want to roll your eyes at him, but he looks too sincere. “okay but how can i have an art style if i literally started drawing two weeks ago at the start of the semester? i don’t even know what i’m doing.”

“look at all your drawings though,” he flips the pages one at a time. “you press really hard when you draw, so it gives everything a very bold, sharp look. and combined with the way you shade, it gives it a dramatic edge.”

you look at your sketches again. they’re still unsightly in your eyes, but you do kind of see what he means.

“well, that’s good to know i guess. but it’s still hard,” you mope. “i thought this would be an easy elective to get an A in but now i’m worried.”

“it’s an intro class - i’m sure the professor isn’t expecting you to be picasso on day one. just keep practicing and you’ll be perfectly fine.”

one of the many things you love about minghao: he always knows how to make you feel reassured. 

“you’re probably right,” you reply. “i don’t know what i should draw for practice, though.”

“well, what do you want to improve the most?”

you think for a second. “our next project is a life drawing, but drawing people is so hard. so maybe that but what am i supposed to do, just draw random people?”

“sure, why not?”

“because that’s weird!”

“okay, well it doesn’t have to be a random person. here, try drawing me.”

“you?? right now?”

“yeah.”

you open your mouth to protest, but you pause, realizing it might not be a bad idea. 

you shrug as you reach for your pencils. “okay, i guess. you can't get mad when it turns out terrible though.”

minghao smiles softly. he situates himself in the chair, focusing his gaze off in the distance. you pick up your sketchbook, holding it at a comfortable angle as you hold your pencil above the page. you think for a minute - you never know where to start when you have to draw a face. you glance back up at minghao, skimming across his features - naturally, you land on his eyes. you always forget how pretty they are: dark brown, soft, calm - giving him a permanent aura of being deep in thought. 

you look back down at the blank page, it's emptiness seemingly taunting you. with a sigh you touch the dulled lead tip to the paper, making your first stroke -  the curvature of minghao’s eyelid appearing on the page. you peep back up at your subject. to your surprise, your shape isn't too far off from reality. you continue, sketching his lower eyelid, his iris, his long dark eyelashes. you erase your marks a few times when they don't look quite right, but before long the image of an eye that looks mostly like minghao’s has formed. 

you move to his nose, drawing the line of its sharp bridge, sketching a circle to render its round, button-shaped end - bringing the shape of his face to life. you peer up at his face, your pencil continuing its strokes, but you pause as you arrive at his lips. they are soft, plump, perfectly formed, highly kissable. you sketch the delicate curves, emphasizing their pillowy nature. you find yourself absentmindedly in a trance when you realize you’ve been staring at him for too long - you’ve already finished drawing his mouth. you feel your cheeks turn warm, praying he can’t see you getting flustered out of the corner of his eye. 

you move on, sketching his soft but strong jawline, his ears - adorned with his usual jewelry, adding quick wispy lines to form the shape of his long hair. before long the essence of minghao has materialized in your notebook.

as you finish, you hold your sketchpad up to compare your drawing to your subject. you don’t love it, and it’s nowhere near perfect. but it is decidedly good enough.

“okay, i’m done, i guess.” you set the notebook down, hesitantly sliding it across the table toward minghao. he picks it up, turning it to face him as he looks at it for the first time. the edges of his mouth twitch upward into a subtle smile, but he doesn’t say anything.

“you hate it.”

minghao looks up at you. “what? no, i love it.” he looks back at the paper with a pleased grin. “i’m telling you, you’re really good at portraying emotion.”

“and what emotion exactly did i portray?”

he shows you your drawing. “i look wistful - like i’m caught in a daydream of unrequieted love.”

you feel your stomach do a flip, but you play it cool, crossing your arms and rolling your eyes at him. “well, i didn’t do that on purpose. but i’m glad you like it.” you extend your hand to take back the notebook, but he turns it toward him again, taking another look. 

“can i keep it?” he looks up at you, his striking brown eyes making contact with yours. you stifle a gulp as you reply.

“um… sure, i guess so. if you really want it.”

he gives you a soft smile, pleased at your response. “i really do.” he carefully tears the page along the perforation, separating it from its spiral binding. he closes the sketchbook and hands it back to you. you return it to its place in your backpack.

“well, thanks for letting me practice on you, i appreciate it.”

“of course. if you need any more practice let me know - since i see you most days anyway.”

“you’re the best.”

“i know,” he replies smugly. you pick up your eraser and lob it at him. he manages to catch it with one hand, giving you a sly look as you jump out of your chair, running from him before he can throw it back. he follows you, chasing you around your apartment - you shout at him, feigning anger, but your laughter gives you away. 

another thing you love about minghao: being with him is always so easy.

—

you didn’t mean to make drawing minghao a regular occurrence. but on one particularly crisp fall day, you find yourself absentmindedly sketching his features as you eat lunch together in the park. he’s reading for his literature class, and you’re supposed to be studying for your sociology course, but you keep zoning out. it’s not your fault that the text is dull, and that the cherub-like rosiness coloring his cheeks makes him look more ethereal than usual. renaissance paintings of angels have nothing on how beautiful he looks right now, you think to yourself. 

you also definitely didn’t mean to start falling for your best friend, but here you are.

delicate pencil strokes paint the wisps of his bangs falling over his eyes as he is studiously engrossed in his book, his long eyelashes peeking through the curtain of hair. you focus on perfecting the shape of his face - glancing up to compare your rendering to your subject - when you notice him looking back at you.

“what are you doing?” he asks, genuinely curious.

you’re about to shut your notebook in a panic, when you realize that would only look more suspicious. 

“nothing, just…”

he reaches for your notebook, his fingers brushing over the top of the page as he tilts it down so he can see. he lets out a soft chuckle.

“practicing again, i see,” he says, casually, but clearly teasing you a little. “i thought you were supposed to be studying for your sociology exam.”

“i am,” you insist. he raises his eyebrow at you. “i was just taking a break,” you add. the look on his face tells you he’s not convinced, but he doesn’t press you further.

“it looks good, i can tell you’re getting better at drawing from a reference.”

“i guess it is getting a little easier,” you admit. 

minghao smiles. “good,” he affirms, before going back to his text without another word. 

you find yourself gazing dreamily at the man before you, lost in aimless thoughts, imagining the feel of his hair tangled around your fingers, his skin softly pressed against your cheeks, his lips brushing against yours. eventually he notices, peeking up at you through his bangs. you swiftly return to your drawing, only to realize you've already finished. his portrait looks slightly cartoonish, and nowhere nearly as beautiful as the real thing, but you decide it's not half bad. 

you half-heartedly resume your studies, sneaking glances at minghao here and there. every glimpse makes your heart flutter - you feel like an idiot, you're in college for christ's sake, and here you are having an entire crush on your closest friend. 

just tell him how you feel, part of your mind tries to convince you. 

but what if it ruins our friendship? another part of you worries. 

you realize you're staring at him again when he looks up from his book, his gaze meeting yours. 

“hmm? what is it?” he asks you calmly. 

“i…” 

you hesitate. his eyes rest on your face attentively.

you let out a small sigh. “i’m getting cold. can we go inside?”

he smiles softly, marking his page as he closes his book. “of course.”

minghao walks you to your next class, which is conveniently located in the building next to his next class. 

“well, see ya later,” you tell him as you turn to enter the building. 

“y/n…”

you freeze as he grabs your arm. you turn back around, looking at him expectantly. he lifts his hand up to your head, tenderly reaching for your hair. you realize you're holding your breath. you exhale as his fingers graze your scalp softly, plucking something off of your head. 

he holds a small yellow piece up to you. “you had a leaf in your hair.” 

your panicking ceases, leaving you a bit disappointed, but you can't help but smile at him.

“thanks, minghao. what would i do without you?”

“walk around with leaves in your hair all day, probably.”

you playfully give him a light shove. he reaches for the door, opening it for you as you head off to class. 

“i'm coming over tonight, if that's alright,” he says as you step through the doorway. 

“of course,” you say, turning over your shoulder to face him. “though, i should probably start charging you rent as much as you're at my place.”

he smiles back at you. “see you later, y/n.”

he disappears as the door shuts quickly. you spend the rest of the afternoon in a daydream, impatiently counting the hours until you see him again. 

—

“how’s the studying going?” minghao asks from the other end of the couch. he sets his book down, pausing so he can take his hoodie off. his plain black t-shirt rises up as he does, revealing his entire midriff. you try not to gawk too hard. he stares at you as he tosses the hoodie aside - you realize he is awaiting your response. 

you look down at your notebook, where you’ve once again been sketching his face. “um… pretty good,” you lie. “are you hungry?” you ask, changing the subject.

“starving, actually,” he admits.

“well, i can offer you ramen, or… actually, that’s about it.”

he grins at you. “ramen sounds great. want me to make some-”

“nope,” you respond as you flip your notebook over, setting it face down on the seat next to you. “i got it.” you rise and head to the kitchen. 

you cook the noodles, serving them into two bowls and carrying them back to the living room. you set the bowls on the coffee table, reaching over to set one in front of minghao - but you feel your leg bump against something. you look down to see your notebook fall to the floor - landing right side up. before you can grab it, minghao has already picked it up for you. he goes to hand it back to you, but pauses as he sees your sketches. you go to swipe it out of his hands, but miss as he pulls back, looking at his own face doodled on your pages.

“you were drawing me again.” it wasn’t a question.

you try to quickly think of some excuse, anything, to get you out of this one, but your mind comes up blank. you decide to try and play it off.

“yes,” you reply with feigned confidence as you sit down next to him. he looks up at you, then back down to the paper. you stare at him, waiting for him to say something else, but he says nothing.

“i like to practice whenever i can,” you add with a shrug.

he flips through your notebook. “whenever you can, or whenever you’re with me?”

“um… i-”

“because these all sure look like me, y/n.”

“so?” you ask him. you meant for your tone to be casual, but it came out a bit more defensive than intended.

his eyes meet yours again. he looks at you warmly, but you can’t tell what he’s thinking. your heart beats rapidly in your chest. 

“so,” he answers as he sets the notebook aside. “i'm wondering, if…” he scoots closer to you, lifting his hand to your face, gently brushing your cheek with his thumb. your skin feels like it's on fire. his fingers tucked under your chin delicately, he draws your face in toward his. you gasp softly. 

“if you feel the same way about me, as i feel about you.”

your heart is racing. you feel dizzy. he's so close to you, a few more inches and your noses would touch. his plump lips wait enticingly. 

“and how do you feel about me?” you manage to ask, your voice barely more than a whisper. his deep brown eyes stare longingly into yours. you’re pretty sure you know the answer, you hope you know the answer, but you need him to confirm it. 

suddenly, he kisses you. 

he kisses you, setting alight fireworks inside you. his soft lips touch against yours ever so gently, his nose pressing against your cheek, his hand holding your face tenderly in his palm, then sliding to the back of your neck, drawing you closer still into him. your chest presses against his, his other arm wrapping around your waist, his large hand settling upon the small of your back. you kiss him back, your lips locked onto his like your life depends on it. you've thought of this, dreamt of this, so many times before, all the years you've known minghao - yet you never could have imagined how thrilling, exhilarating, freeing it would be to finally be here, in his arms, world stopped, nothing matters except you and him, so lovingly embraced - together. 

electricity pulsates through your skin, every nerve in your body dancing. slowly, minghao’s lips part from yours. you lock eyes with him - in all the time you've known him, he's always been a sentimental person, but you've never seen such love and adoration beaming from him like you see now. 

and it's all for you. 

a giggle escapes you. minghao looks at you, a wide grin spreading across his face. you run your hands through his hair, a sensation you've waited so long to experience - it's every bit as delightful as you imagined. 

“hao…” you start.

he plants another kiss on your lips. “hmm?” he asks, still glowing at you. 

“how long have you felt this way?” you ask softly. 

“i've had feelings for you since the day we met, and i've loved you more every day since.” 

you boop your nose against his, giving him a fake stern look. 

“and why didn't you tell me?”

he feigns a pouty face back at you. “why didn't you tell me?”

you blow a tiny raspberry at him. he smiles, pulling you into him, wrapping his arms around you tightly as he kisses your cheek repeatedly. you laugh, held in his warm embrace, overflowing with emotions. 

finally, you can admit it: you're in love with your best friend - and he just so happens to love you back. 

[simpforsolas]

i wrote up this whole rant yesterday about how I didn't find the Solas arc satisfying in this game, and seeing the ama and interviews today, I think I understand why that is lol.

yes, Solas carried this game. Yes i loved every time he was on the screen. yes his arc made me cry. NO it was not satisfying. and i'm just gonna go ahead and copy paste my rant explaining my feelings the best i can.

(i wrote this yesterday before all the revelations)

Solas's writing wasn't successful to me not because I think he was written out of character, necessarily. I think that every individual instance of his character being written on-screen was fine, but to me, his character was missing the wider context that put the isolated actions we saw of him in the game into perspective

The entire point is that the Dread Wolf/Fen'Harel persona that we see is a mask he wears. And that's fine, I like it! But what makes a mask interesting is to see what it's masking, and Rook doesn't really get to see that unless you choose the reedem ending. I guess what I'm getting at is that I craved to see more Inquisition-style Solas, in particular Trespasser Solas who was so remorseful but stuck in his ways, who stuck to his path but said stuff like "I would treasure the chance to be wrong once again, my friend." All these different sides are real sides of Solas, but because the game didn't really show us all these sides then we're left with a lopsided picture and now I have to deal with all these fools misinterpreting him all over the internet

I can still interpret it my way well enough, but the thing is that's my interpretation and it's a valid interpretation of the source material itself, but other people's interpretations are also valid because the game didn't really get more into his motivations other than "it's all mythal." But if you go back to inquisition, you can see how passionate Solas is about his ideals! His banter with other party members and his approval and dialogue you get with him really suggests that he actually CARES about his goal at an idealistic level, it's not just about regret. I like the regret! I like the history with Mythal!! I just wish it was more of something in his backstory that shaped him to who he is today and is something he needed to work through in order to finally see things clearly, instead of being the one magical thing that had to happen for him to get his "redemption"

I'm also rather frustrated that the right answer was just going straight back to the status quo, when we KNOW the veil is falling apart and shattered and an unnatural wound inflicted on the world that turns spirits into demons, prevents the world from achieving the magical/technological wonders it once had, keeps elves from immortality, and creates this fear and class difference between mages/non-mages and people who understand the fade and those who don't. Like when I replayed Origins i was struck by how many plot points are basically "the veil is weak here which means that there are demons here and they killed hundreds of people!!!!!!" Things like that are still going to be a problem hello why was none of this addressed 😭😭😭 I wish we could've validated the problems Solas's plan resolved to fix instead of saying "you just need to move on man this is just you taking your issues out on the world" because it WASN'T THAT

'm also really frustrated that we don't see a SINGLE big plan of Solas's go right because I know my man, I BELIEVE in my man, I know that he was smart and clever and had wins!!! I don't mind him fucking up but when all we ever see of him are major fuck ups it annoys me because COME ON. He's the DREAD WOLF. He knows how to make plans and carry them out. He saved thousands of slaves during his time, he fought and won countless battles, he locked away the Evanuris! Sure things fell apart in the actual veil part but he was able to trick all of them and did succeed in locking them away. The only thing we actually see him accomplish in this game is escaping regret prison, which is instantly seen as less cool because Rook gets out after like five minutes, and taking down the archdemon which was pretty hot but that wasn't about trickery, that was him engaging in straight up physical fighting in his wolf form. Anyway it frustrates me because now people in the fandom can rightly laugh about him being stupid and having bad plans. Yet I can't help but go back to inquisition and listen to his advice, dialogue, etc, and he's always so thoughtful and wise! So i just find it hard to believe that this man is incapable of taking a win. even if he kept all the Ls in this game but they had included a few more wins i wouldn't even be mad but it was literally just a collection of Solas's Ls and it frustrates me because I think he's better than that

i'm just worked up about this because i've been seeing takes about solas from people who used to like him but this game made them hate him, and the fact that the source material from datv as an isolated game actually supports their perspective is driving me insane. cuz if you ask me a lot of solas's character and motivations between dai and datv are actually at odds with each other. even if the surface characterization is absolutely on point, there was just so much context and scope that we're missing in this game. i can't handle it

[fredoesque]

ranking terror characters based on how prophet-coded they are

crozier: 4/10 crozier's kassandra status is often overstated i believe. just because franklin is wrong doesn't mean crozier is right. none of his predictions come true except those regarding the ice. that's not prophecy it's just meteorological knowledge. some points for the act of hubris we may not survive though. i can't deny that they did not survive

silna: [ERROR]/10 objectively framed as a prophet character. makes the number one most accurate prophecy in the show ("she said that if we don't leave now we're going to [disappear]."). i can't say whether she truly is one however, bc her standing outside english modes of knowledge is a big part of what casts this statement in a mysterious light. from the english (and the audience's) perspective this is prophecy, but is it from hers? or is it just, as i said before, meteorological knowledge? maybe the prophet is just another role projected onto silna, bc her having supernatural insight is easier for the english to stomach than her having knowledge they lack. this doesn't entirely preclude her being a prophet as well though, since we know that there are in fact supernatural forces at play. english perceptions of her prophethood being incorrect doesn't mean said prophethood is necessarily non-existent. maybe if we saw more of silna, especially with her own people, i could give a definitive answer, but as it stands i'm undecided. whatever the case bonus points for making that terror model without masts that looks like the actual wreck that shit was cool as hell

david young: 7/10 solid first act prophet. hounded by visions he doesn't understand. gives warnings that ultimately go unheeded. not much else to say about this one it's a classic

hickey: 2/10 wants to be a prophet so bad but has little to no insight into the future. some points for his tendency to be the first to say things that are true about the present or to utter thoughts others have but are unwilling to share. may not be an actual prophet but strangely capable of filling the social function of one

jopson: 1/10 never really does anything prophet related but gets a point for objectively looking like he knows how you're going to die at all times

collins: 3/10 collins has visions but they're not of the future; they're of the past which is a different sort of thing entirely. does get some points bc visions are still visions and the past he sees does in fact mirror the future that awaits

fitzjames: 0/10 i've put him on the list bc he's a main character but he is absolutely not a prophet on account of he doesn't know shit. he IS a walking prophecy however and that prophecy is the rot of imperialism. and scurvy

blanky: 11/10 i've said this before and i'll say it again blanky is the only character who actually understands the situation they're in. not only does he give an ominous speech about the future, but his is actually acted upon in a way that ends up contributing to it's fulfillment. that's prophecy, baby! thinking about this is why i made this post

goodsir: 9/10 gets just one big prophet moment but it's an absolute banger: jacko's death. reads the future in an animal's entrails (if you squint) which is objectively the coolest form of prophecy. like blanky's prophecy, stanley hearing it and acting to avoid it only makes the situation worse

franklin: 1/10 the point is for "i've long wanted to move below"

[taevjim]

Romancing the Viscount (m) 18+

♞ ♞

-Disclaimer: This AU is inspired by Bridgerton. I do realize a viscount is a British nobleman, but for the sake of the AU, we are going to use our imagination xoxo

♞ ♞

-Summary: For three seasons now, you had yet to have any marriage proposals under your belt. It was depressing to say the least. You have come into society as a blossomed young woman, ready for marriage, but no man of the ton has seemed the slightest bit interested in you. You’re on year three of being let off your leash into society and the pressure was certainly on for you to find a husband. You were beautiful, charming, and had incredible wit; anyone would be dying to have your hand in marriage. What could possibly be taking so long? Perhaps a viscount has had his eyes set on you all along and he’s the reason you have yet to be wed.

-Pairing: viscount!jungkook x female reader

-Genre: smut, smut, and more smut.

♞ ♞ ♞

The day started off fairly promising with the pure energy that radiated from you as you rose from the cotton sheets which kept you company at night, aiding you a good night’s rest. Your feet touch the cold floor and you spring to action as you skip across your room, your baby blue night gown trailing through the air behind you at your rushed pace. Excitement crept through your bones down to your core with the thought of tonight’s seasonal ball. Of course you had plenty of balls to attend to throughout the season, but the first ball of the season was always the most important, as well as the most promising.

Although you were gleaming with excitement, you couldn’t help but feel a little nervous as well. Maybe even a bit discouraged. This would be your third season out into society and you couldn’t help but wonder if you would find the man of your dreams in the near future. A girl can only hope. Many young women have had no problems snagging a husband on their FIRST year of their debut into society, so what could you be doing wrong? Surely there was nothing wrong with you, at-least you didn’t think there was.

Your reflection in the vanity mirror stares back at you as you run your nimble fingers across the soft, supple flesh of your cheek.

“Is it my looks?” You ask yourself, barely above a whisper.

The characteristics of your looks were actually quite simple. You had rather large, round eyes with perfectly curled lashes to frame the lids. A cute button nose and incredibly soft cheeks which always seemed to have a hint of pink undertones to your rather fair complexion. You were also adorned with an exceptionally full figure, making you curvy in all the right places. Never mind the fact that these characteristics didn’t exactly make you unique; you were still deemed one of the most beautiful women of the ton.

Yet, still no husband.

Perhaps you were beginning to feel a bit impatient. Of course you were. What were you to do if you go through yet another season with no man on your arm? God forbid you end up as a spinster, which might be your fate if you don’t find any eligible bachelors soon.

There were quite a few bachelors who you have set your endearing gaze upon, but unfortunately none of them have ever given you more than just a couple of minutes of sub par conversation. With questions ranging from the weather to who you think the queen’s next ‘Diamond’ will be. You’re always polite and proper, speaking with purpose and clarity. You’ve never seemed to have trouble charming your way through a crowd. You’ll never understand what the hold up could be.

Surely you should’ve at-least had ONE proposal by now, but as luck has it, it’s not necessarily on your side as of late.

Your maid rushes through the double doors of your chambers, preparing to wake you before her eyes land on you across the room while you sit at your vanity.

“Well you’re up quite early, I see.” She smiles and strides over to open the curtains to the windows, letting in the bright rays of sunlight into the four walls of your bedroom.

“Today is the first official day of the season. If I’m going to find a husband, I need to make sure I am on my toes at all times and prepared for anything,” you say as you gently pat a small dab of foundation into your skin.

Dana, your maid, gives an approving nod and walks over to begin taking the pins from your hair, allowing your curls to bounce out from their confinements and take their place down the slope of your back. You made sure to pin your hair in rollers the night before so that you could have the most perfect curls. She begins running her fingers through the softness of your locks, carefully moving the pieces of hair into their rightful positions.

Effortlessly beautiful. Exactly the look you were going for.

You put the finishing touches onto your makeup, having gone for a subtle natural appearance, and stand to finally begin ridding yourself of your nightgown.

“You’re going to do just fine this season,” Dana says as she helps you into your corset. “Don’t forget that you are absolutely gorgeous.”

The corners of your lips raise at her compliment and you turn to her with your hands clutching your chest. “You’re too kind. I appreciate the work you put into making me look so good.”

She lets out a giggle and slightly shakes her head, the front two pieces of her baby hairs swinging at the sudden movement. “Don’t be silly,” she begins, “You already have all the right qualities.” Her words pierce into your mind, almost reminding you that you should have nothing to worry about.

Almost.

She helps you into a simple baby pink gown that seems to hug your curves in all the right places. The corset is definitely working wonders on you, not that you needed to rely on it too terribly. You grab a scarf and carefully drape it behind your shoulders and across your forearms, deeming yourself ready for the day.

First stop was to go by the modiste for a fitting of your dress you would be wearing for tonight’s ball. You wanted to make sure everything would be perfect for tonight, which would hopefully grant you the success you’ve been chasing since two seasons ago.

As hoped but also a bit expected, your fitting goes by swimmingly. Madam Claire, the most trusted modiste within miles, did an exceptional job on capturing exactly what you envisioned for your gown. It was a dark blue with a suede bodice and sleeves made of silk, enveloping your arms all the way down to your small but perfectly manicured hands. The bottom portion of your dress was also silk and although it was slightly puffy, it was still quite slimming, small crystals adorned the fabric across the entirety of the material.

It was absolutely breathtaking.

“Oh Claire,” you gush as you do a 360 spin, your eyes only leaving your reflection in the mirror for not even half a second, “It’s everything I’ve imagined. If I do happen to be blessed to become a bride this season it’ll surely all be thanks to you.”

A slight blush creeps onto her tanned cheeks and she playfully waves a hand at you, “Oh stop it. This dress wouldn’t even look half as good if it weren’t you who were wearing it.”

The smile never leaves your face as you embrace her into a quick, but comforting hug. “Thank you so much Claire. You’re the absolute best,” you thank her and quickly undress to change back into your previous dress.

You decide to pass a bit of time as you make your way back down the street, finding a bench up ahead to sit and catch up a bit on your new book. You quite liked reading. The way words can be put together to create something beautiful was a talent that would always be incredibly admired by you. It was the way that it didn’t matter where you were, for once you picked up your book and started reading, you could imagine yourself being there in the story. Almost as if the words came alive right before your eyes.

You’ve been told by a countless number of mamas of the ton that the reason you didn’t have a husband yet was because of the fact you couldn’t keep your nose out of a book. Often being told not to “taint yourself” with such a boring and time consuming activity.

However, that never stopped you from opening a book and becoming one with the words on the page. It was like it was an addiction. An addiction you never wanted to ween yourself off of. People didn’t seem to understand the want of a woman to read, but you were never confused with the activity. You simply enjoyed it. You had even taken up quite a hobby of your own by writing in your journal every other night, explaining in utter detail of what you wanted most out of this life. Perhaps writing it down on paper helped give you the hope of it actually becoming true.

Your attention was suddenly torn away from your book as you lift your head to the sounds of women giggling a bit too loud for your liking across the street.

A group of four women stand before a man as they flutter their lashes and wave their fans inches away from their bosoms. The man in question was none other than Viscount Jeon.

He was a man of great fortune and even greater integrity. His confidence radiating from him like fumes from a flame as he chuckled at the flirting women. Viscount Jeon was definitely the man every young woman wanted on their arm, regardless of his reputation being a class A rake. Not to mention, he was drop dead gorgeous.

From where you sat, you slightly saw his side profile, and boy was it a sight. Of course you’ve seen the Viscount plenty of times, mainly at a ball being thrown, but sometimes around the square. It wasn’t hard to admit that you would never get tired of seeing him. His shoulders looked deliciously broad from where you were sitting and you quickly realized your interest for your book carefully slipped away the moment your eyes landed on his figure. A quite lean and very muscular figure, at that.

You subtly watch as the man converses with the women, making them swoon at almost every word that leaves his enchanting lips. Your eyes trace his figure, taking in the expensive material of dress he wore on his back. His coat cinched around his waist almost too perfectly, making him all the more irresistible. You catch the sight of his rings around his beautifully thick, creamy toned fingers, and let out a disappointed sigh as he moves to shove his hand into the pocket of his perfectly fitted breeches.

Embarrassment quickly replaces your neediness as two mamas pass by you, following your entranced gaze over to the Viscount. You had been caught staring. Although you weren’t caught by the Viscount himself, you still felt your cheeks get hot as you were visibly noticed practically drooling over the man.

You let out a huff of air and stand to your feet, deciding you should head back home to start getting ready for the ball.

What you didn’t notice, however, was the way the Viscount’s eyes locked onto you as he spotted you crossing the street. He has stolen many glances at you over the past couple years every-time he’s seen you. You were beautiful, that much he knew. He also knew that your debut into society wasn’t the most successful as you still hadn’t managed to find a husband which happened to be from his doing. He has never even spoken to you once but he knew the moment he laid his eyes upon you, he had to have you, and he made quick work of letting every man of the ton know that you were off limits. You, however, had no idea that was the case of your suffering fate and he didn’t plan on telling you about it either.

♞ ♞ ♞

You watch the trees go by and listen to the sounds of the horse's hooves hitting the ground while you make your way to the ball in your carriage. The leaves were a beautiful green and the grass even greener and it made you smile. You always appreciated nature and how magical everything seemed to look whenever a new season had approached. In your gut you had hoped tonight would be the night you get to meet your future husband, as you were starting to grow very tired of waiting.

A sigh escapes your lips and you look down into your lap, suddenly very interested in watching the way your fingers toyed with the material of your dress. If you manage to fail yet another season, you might just give up. You looked exceptionally beautiful tonight, even you could admit. Dana sits across from you as she watches you silently battle yourself inside your own head.

She reaches forward and places one of her hands over your fidgeting fingers and says, "You will do amazing tonight. Don't worry yourself so much, you'll create wrinkles on your forehead."

You send a gentle smile her way and caress her hands into your own. Dana had always encouraged you no matter the day or the task at hand. She was so supportive of you, never faltering. You suppose it was because it was her job, but you and Dana had grown rightfully close over the years of her taking care of you. With your mother passing at a young age and your father going over seas, Dana was all you had. You couldn't feel more grateful.

"What will i do?" you ask, "If I don't find a husband surely I'll be ruined."

She frowns at the sight of you shutting down. Truthfully, Dana couldn't quite understand how you still haven't managed to wed since your debut. There was no gossip going around of you that would potentially scare any suitors away. Your looks were most definitely not the problem, as you were incredibly beautiful, even more beautiful than most ladies she had worked for in the past. In truth, she was just as confused as you were.

"Don't talk that way. You will find a husband, I'm sure of it. You are beautiful, smart, witty, and selfless. This season will be your season." She holds both of your hands into her own and her words make you smile. You trusted her with your life and she always saw the good in you. She knew the potential you had to become successful.

Now it was just you who needed to see it in yourself.

The carriage suddenly comes to a stop before the palace and your eyes sparkle as you take in the scenery. The hedges around the property were trimmed perfectly and the lights that shined around the palace twinkled in the most captivating way. You watch as a few ladies make their way inside, fans in hand. The goal for you tonight was to shine and continue to be the one thing you ever knew how to be, which was yourself.

"Go," Dana shoos you out of the carriage and gives you another look before sending you on your way. She moves a couple strands of hair that managed to fall out of place and smiles, "Perfection."

You wave to her as you begin to make your way to the entrance, your nerves suddenly making another appearance inside of your gut. You fix your posture as you started to slouch and you carefully run your fingers across the material of your dress, trying to rid the perspiration that managed to build up because of your nerves. Taking a deep breath, you begin to make your way inside.

Your eyes take in all of the pictures that hang the walls of the hallway. It's almost like you had never been here before, although you have a couple times in the past. The first ball of the season was always held at the Queen's palace, and the Queen made sure to keep it exceedingly presentable. You stop before one picture that catches your eyes above the rest. It was a picture of the Queen and her King when they were younger. She wore the most grand gown in the photo, as she always does, and King George stood beside her in all his gory. They looked proud and emanated power as they both stared into your soul. Oh how you longed to find a love like the Queen had.

"Are you not going to go inside?"

Your head whipped to the side as you curiously look to see who was speaking to you.

It was the Viscount.

You quickly bow, not wanting to seem disrespectful. "Lord Jeon, how lovely to see you."

His eyes never leave you, not even for a second. He takes you in from your head down to your toes, as if his eyes were drawing a map across your form. You always managed to clean up very nicely, from styling your hair into the most perfect way to picking the most gorgeous gown.

You began to feel rather small under his stare, nervously switching your weight from one foot to the other. At his delayed response, you begin taking him in as well. His waist coat fit his muscular body like a glove and his breeches, even more fitting. You could almost make out the shape of his body through the fabric, your eyes trailing the material. What a man the Viscount was. You look back up to his face, finding him already staring at you, and a blush creeps up to your cheeks.

"No escort?" he asks as he looks around the, now empty, hall. It seems everyone has already made their way into the ballroom.

"Oh, no. I don't ever have anyone to escort me to these sort of things," you let out a breathy chuckle and clasp your hands together for what seemed to be the tenth time tonight already.

A small smirk edges it's way onto his beautiful lips and he holds his arm out to you. "Well, what are we waiting for?"

Was the Viscount really offering to escort you into the ballroom? Surely he wouldn't want to be seen with a woman such as yourself, as you've had not a single suitor in the past two years. A man of such status would never.

However, he was the Viscount, and you would be absolutely insane if you didn't take him up on the offer.

You carefully outstretch your arm and rest your fingers into the crease of his elbow, allowing him to lead the two of you to the ballroom entrance. Your nerves seemed to spike even more now, causing you to slightly squeeze his arm. He notices the action and looks down to you, watching as your eyes bounce from one edge of the room to the other. With his other hand, he reaches over and allows it to rest on yours. This action causing your gaze to snap up to him.

"No need to be nervous. I got you." Your eyes fall to his lips as he utters the words and oh how perfect they looked as he attempted to comfort you, which had worked, by the way.

You give a curt nod and a tight lipped smile and allow him to escort you through the entrance.

Upon entry, everyone stopped their conversation and allowed their eyes to fall at the head of the room where you and Lord Jeon stood. You hear the whispers immediately from the mamas and their daughters as they wonder how you, a woman with no suitors and three seasons deep into society with not a single marriage proposal, had the Viscount on your arm.

You had to admit, you felt pretty powerful. Not that him escorting you to the ball meant anything. Perhaps he was just being nice, but you surly were not going to complain.

He leads you down the grand staircase and you make sure to try and watch your step so you don't happen to fall and embarrass yourself even more to the people who so clearly wanted to watch you fail. Your fingers tighten against his muscle once again as the two of you reach the bottom and begin taking in all the eyes that were now on the two of you. Had you been dreaming?

He doesn't make an effort to part from you, instead, he leads you over to the refreshments table and hands you a small glass of lemonade. He must have thought you were thirsty from the nerves attacking your body from the inside, which he would be right. You grab the glass and take a sip, instantly feeling a bit better. A massive sum of the people around you were still staring, but it seemed as most begin to indulge into their own conversations and even taking to the dancefloor.

A couple of women make their way to you, their fans in hand and their lashes fluttering in the Viscount's direction. You wanted to roll your eyes but stop yourself because in all honesty, you couldn't really blame them.

"Lord Jeon," one gushes as she bows before him, furiously fanning her bosom when she stands to meet his gaze. "What a lovely ball, don't you agree?"

You figured that maybe you should leave his presence and allow him to converse with the women, however, you feel his arm flex and tighten around your fingers just as you were about to let go. In turn, you decide to stay in place and you flash a fake smile to the woman before you.

"Oh," she says in a startling manner, "I didn't see you there Miss." You wanted to scowl at her for her very obvious condescending tone , yet decided against it because you were the one with the man she wanted at your side. It made you feel quite victorious in a way.

Alas, as soon as her attention was on you, it was gone in a second and back onto the Viscount. "Would you care to dance?" she asks, so shamelessly holding her hand out to him.

He gives her a warm smile and tugs you slightly closer into his side, "Pardon me, but I was actually about to ask Miss Y/L/N if she would like to join me on the floor." He looks down at you now, you not quite registering his advance just yet. You only look up to him when you see the woman in front of you shoot a venomous glare upon you.

"Of course," you say, barely above a whisper. You wanted to laugh in her face and maybe even throw an unpleasant gesture her way, but in turn you make the decision to be as graceful as you can in the matter. You turn to set your half empty glass of lemonade on the table behind you and allow him to lead you onto the floor.

If everyone was staring at you before, they surly were now as the two of you take your places into the center of the room and begin to dance. It was apparent to the Viscount that everyone in this room was envious of you, although you weren't aware. He knew every man wanted to have you and every woman wanted to be you. He couldn't blame you too much for your lack of observation because in your defense, no man had approached you for anything more than small conversation, too afraid of what the Viscount may do had they made an advances onto you.

"You must pity me." The words come out before you can stop them and you let out a small laugh. He ticks his head to the side, very obviously confused with your comment.

"Pity?" he questions. "Why would I pity you?" he follows up with another question just as he slightly spins you, pulling you in again.

It took you a bit off guard with the close proximity between the two of you being incredibly evident. You look up at him through your lashes and let out a small sigh. "Lord Jeon," you begin. "I just want you to know that you don't have to feel bad for me. I may not be able to get a husband but it doesn't mean I need you to try and help me."

Now it was his turn to be slightly taken off guard. You thought he was only being in your presence so that he could bring more attention towards you, in turn, helping you find a husband. You become quite nervous at his silence and the way he just stared at you, still dancing without missing a beat.

"You think I'm only dancing with you to help you find a husband?" he asks, spinning you another time. Your eyes drift slightly to the outskirts of the dancefloor, noticing how everyone was watching the two of you. Quite a few faces of disapproval look back at you and those of admiration aimed at the Viscount. Of course they were only interested because he was here.

"Is that not what you're doing?" you ask as you turn back to look at him. You were slightly surprised to see the longing in his eyes as he stared back at you. How could you possibly think he was only interested in helping you? How could you not know how beautiful you were, how the room went completely stiff upon your entrance? And now as everyone stops and watches the two of you dance together, you still think you aren't good enough to be looked at.

He shakes his head at your question and slightly dips you. Your breath quickens, as does his at the sight of your hair completely separating from your shoulders and fully exposing the expansion of your chest. Your bodice fit your body to perfection and in this moment it proved much more evident from what he observed upon first glance of you out in the hall.

You're picked back up into his arms in a rather slower pace than you expected, now rising to see his eyes buried into your skin even deeper than they were before. It's crazy how one can have such a way with words solely based of their eyes alone. His eyes spoke more than his mouth ever has, at-least to you, and it took your breath away. You can't help but just stare back, practically feeling yourself getting lost.

Unexpectedly, he leans closer and in a whisper he speaks, "You're entirely too beautiful to be pitied."

His words were soft and kind, and everything you didn't know you longed to hear from someone else. You certainly didn't expect them to come from a man of his rank. For a moment you don't know what to say and you don't catch the smirk that inches onto his face as he gently pulls you from the dance floor, you not realizing the song ended.

Among the next hour that passes, you and the Viscount fall into effortless conversation. He tells you of his travels and many successes in his life. He also tells you his name, Jungkook. You would never call him by his name, of course, but the fact he even felt comfortable enough to tell you raised a certain spark inside of you. You learned that he's kind, smart, and also quite funny. He had you giggling more times than you can count at his quick wit and charming playfulness. He also learned quite a bit about you, that you love to read, you liked to take your horse out to the field and enjoy fresh air and nature in general. You also shared his trait of being goofy and playful as the two of you threw jokes at each other here and there throughout the night. The biggest thing he learned was that your giggle was a sound that he truly felt blessed to be able to hear, causing him to not be able to stop coaxing that sound from you with his words. He wanted to draw that sound from you all night, never wanting it to leave his head even for a second.

A couple more hours pass and you were so embedded into your conversations with Jungkook that you didn't realize the ball was coming to an end and people began spilling out of the ballroom. Jungkook watches as your curious eyes sweep across the room and observe everyone as they ascend back up the stairs and out into the hall.

You turn your head back to Jungkook, once again catching him already looking at you, and you nudge your head towards the exit, "I think it's time the night has come to an end."

"It doesn't have to end though," he blurts and your eyes slightly widen. You try to process what he means by that as he grabs your hand into his and leads you both out of the room.

As you make your way outside you instantly notice how chilly the air has become, feeling the way it slightly licks at your skin, leaving goosebumps in it's wake. Jungkook notices and inches closer toward you, hoping he can radiate some body heat your way.

"That's my carriage," he says and points to an elegant looking black carriage pulling up to stop in front of the two of you. How would it look for you to be getting in his carriage with him at the end of the night? You look around you, watching to see if anyone notices. Everyone already looked down upon you as it is, so how would they react if they noticed you riding away with their lovely Viscount?

You feel a hand at the small of your back, slightly causing you to jump when you realize Jungkook is carefully pushing you towards the carriage for you to get in. Damn what the ton thinks, you think to yourself. You were certain Jungkook wouldn't put you in a position to have you under such scrutiny. You hardly knew him but you trusted him.

He slightly gulps as he catches sight of the stockings you wore as you lift your dress a little to climb up into the carriage. It made his body shudder as he was confronted with the pure want and need he had towards you, and yet you were all the more oblivious. He knew he wouldn't be able to get that image out of his head for quite some time.

He climbs in after you, settling into the seat across from you and instructed his driver to take the two of you to the nearest park. Before you can question him, you stop as you notice the sheepish look on his face before he spoke, "I thought we could sit and talk a bit more."

You smile at his words and give a small nod, yet you find it hard to look away from him. Usually you loved to watch as the trees passed by while you rode, enjoying and taking in the nature around you, but you simply couldn't tear your gaze away from him. Evidently he couldn't either, his eyes boring into yours with a sort of intensity.

One minute he's sheepishly smiling at you like a boy being caught with his hand in the cookie jar, and the next he's looking at you like he wants to tear your clothes off in that very moment. Admittedly, it makes your head spin. You slightly adjust in your seat and his eyes snap down at the movement. He felt as if there was a fog in his head, weighing down so heavily that he couldn't think straight when looking at you.

"Thank you for being by my side tonight. It was quite unexpected but I very much enjoyed it," you said, trying to break the ice and the staring contest between the two of you.

He gives you a boyish smile and nods in agreement. "It was very nice," he states, "I wouldn't have wanted to spend my time with anyone else."

His words take you back slightly. He didn't even know you, and to be quite fair, he has never really showed an interest in you before, so why now?

"Why tonight?" you ask, your judgement getting the best of you and causing you to blurt the question before you can think twice.

He leans forward, elbows resting on his knees as he looks into your eyes, into your soul. "I know it must be a surprise that I've shown up out of nowhere tonight, but to be honest, I've had my eye on you since you first debuted into society."

Now his words really caught you off guard.

You shake your head in confusion and lean forward yourself. "What does that even mean?" you ask, "You've had your eye on me for two years yet never spoken a word to me. Why?"

He can't really give you the answer that you deserve when it came to that kind of question. He really didn't even know the answer to it himself. He knew he always wanted you but he never found the right time to make it clear to you.

"My duty as a Viscount has kept me very busy these last few years. I haven't been Viscount for very long so when that role was passed down to me, I had quite a few tasks thrown at me, on top of my journey's to other countries. I couldn't find the right time to talk to you." You slightly squint your eyes at his confession, still not fully grasping the fact of why he never once acted on the way he's telling you that he's felt for quite some time.

On the other hand, you were confused how he even had an interest towards you at all. You always thought the men were repulsed by you, hence the fact you were still unmarried, not even being courted by any of the men of the ton.

"I'm just confused," you start, "I've only seen you a few times and in those times I've seen you, you've never once noticed me."

You begin to feel nervous under his intense gaze, not being able to read the emotion that currently flashes in his eyes. "Not that you've noticed," he admits, "I've seen you many times and trust me when i say, I can't help but notice you when you are near."

He slightly scoots closer, carefully grabbing your slightly shaky hands to hold into his own. The feeling you have when he's so close or when he's looking at you the way he is, is a feeling you can't describe, but it's also a feeling that you don't want to stop feeling. Ever.

You look down into your lap where your hands are connected and smile at the way his thumb caresses your skin, "I thought all of the men around here were repulsed by me." You look up and meet his confused stare.

"How can you believe such a thing? You are absolutely one of the most beautiful women I've ever laid my sights upon," your breath hitches as his hand comes to cup the side of your face, his pinky finger tracing down the skin of your neck so gently, "I knew when I saw you that I needed to have you." The last sentence comes from his lips in a whisper and you almost feel as though you are in a trance, just staring into his eyes, not able to notice how close he has managed to get to you now.

Is this a dream?, you wonder.

Out of everything that has happened to you over the past couple years, including tonight, you knew only one thing. You wanted the Viscount. You wanted him more than anything you've ever wanted in your life and now that he's right in front of you, sitting so close you can feel his breath tickling your skin, you didn't care if it had been a dream. You suppose there's only one way to find out if you truly are just dreaming.

You lean forward a couple more inches and plant your lips onto Jungkook's, instantly sighing at the sweet taste of him. He wastes no time in kissing you back, reaching up to grip both sides of your face with his hands. Turning your head slightly, he gains more access to your mouth and can't help but run his tongue across your lips, almost begging you for entry, which you grant to him with no hesitation. He kisses you as if his life depends on it and you realize you've never felt so euphoric in your entire life until this very moment. You pull away suddenly and only now you notice how he has sunken to his knees before you, looking up at you as he anticipates your next move.

You've always loved looking at the man before you, even if you never noticed him looking back. You've always dreamed of the day you got to run your fingers through his silky hair-

Giving into your thoughts, you reach up and slowly bury your fingers into the tresses of his black locks, meeting his gaze half way as his eyes bore into yours, almost pleading you. This was the second time tonight that Jungkook has made you feel so powerful. The feeling was addicting.

You run your fingers through his hair and rest your hand on the back of his head, biting your lip at the sight of him so vulnerable before you. He groans and rushes in to push his lips against yours with a force that has your back resting against the seat now. He never lets up, kissing you as if he's scared you'll be pulled from his embrace any moment now. Goosebumps rise on your skin a second time tonight as his fingers inch across your collarbone and carefully push your dress down your shoulder.

He pulls away and almost whines at the sight of your skin becoming more exposed to his eyes. Who knew he would be so hard at the sight of a woman's shoulder, for Christ's sake. You didn't quite realize the affect you had on the Viscount just yet, but he intended on showing you.

As fast as he pulled away, he leans back in even faster, attaching his lips to the underside of your chin. His lips move across your skin with such fever, it practically makes your head almost spin of your shoulders. You've never felt such...bliss, and he was barely even touching you.

Almost as if he read your mind, his hand slowly travels down to your ankle, pressing his fingers against your skin, before his hand disappears under your dress and dances up your leg. The softness in which he touched your skin left a fire in it's wake, making you slightly shake in excitement. He gives a warm smile at your reaction, indulging in the sounds your heavy breathes make. He watches the way your chest rises furiously, suppressing a groan at the perfect sight that was you.

He gives a questioning look as his fingers reach the inside of your thigh and he doesn't even need to ask before you're already nodding your head, looking at him pleadingly, which further drives him even more mad for you. Your small hands grip the expanse of his broad shoulders, the same ones you were drooling over earlier in the day, and your head leans back, the feeling of his fingers ghostly dancing over the material of your undergarments. His lips finally press against yours once again as he firmly presses his fingers against you, drawing the most beautiful sound from your throat.

It was hard for him to believe how warm and soft you felt against his rough fingers. He presses his fingers even further against you, becoming addicted to the way you felt under his touch. In turn, more noises were drawn from you and he knew he would never get tired of the way you sounded. He pushes your dress up so he can see the way you look beneath him and the sight is enough to turn a man insane. The expanse of your think thighs adorned in the beautifully delicious stockings you chose to wear for the occasion, almost calling his name to keep his eyes on you.

"Please," you whisper.

His head snaps up when he hears your whimper, the look on your face taunting him, coaxing him to touch you further. Jungkook likes to think he's quite the strong spirit, but he's never felt weaker as he has kneeling before you now. He gives into the soft sounds you make just for him and pushes his fingers past your undergarments, fully touching you. You instantly gasp and push yourself up further into his embrace, shocked by the feeling that was currently running through your body. You've never been touched this way and you were almost angry that you didn't get to experience this until now.

The only barrier between the two of you is broken as he slowly pushes two fingers inside of you, watching intently at the faces you make. You let out a drawn out moan and pull him closer until his face is practically into your neck. He takes the opportunity to plant his mouth against your skin, feeling your pulse beneath his tongue, and you shudder at the warmth that consumes you.

"You're so perfect," he grunts as he pushes his fingers deeper, causing you to gasp for the millionth time. His eyes fall to your chest once again, watching it rise and fall almost in a pattern. He's thrusting his fingers into you faster, with more purpose, manually reaching inside of you for the delightful sounds you offer to him so easily.

You thread your fingers into his hair again, ever so slightly pulling when he reaches a spot inside of you that has your toes curling. He was making you feel so wonderful, a feeling you never wanted to go away. A feeling you wanted him to provide for you every single day as long as you live. Your eyes flutter open as you look up at him, the sight causing an unfamiliar feeling to bubble inside of you. His hair was slightly damp from sweat, his eyes producing a fire you've never witnessed, all the while his fingers moved inside of you much faster than before.

There's a feeling rising inside of you that causes you to arch your back and slightly constrict your legs around Jungkook's incredibly lean waist. The sounds are pouring from you now like a mantra as you desperately claw at his shoulders, pulling him impossibly closer to your form.

"You can do it baby," he whispers, egging you on before planting his face into your chest and beginning to take the supple flesh of your breast into his mouth. That's all it took to have you falling apart beneath him. Your muscles constrict and his name comes flowing from your mouth like a chant, further proving to him how undoubtedly perfect you were.

You lay still, breathing heavily as he removes his digits from your body and smooths your dress back into place. He carefully places your sleeve back up your shoulder and pushes a piece of hair behind your ear. You watch him the whole time, admiring how determined he looked. Your words were hidden in your gut as you keep your eyes on him. Soon, you realize his carriage stops before his house and you turn to him, confused.

Jungkook hops out effortlessly and holds his hand out to you. "Well, are you coming?" he asks.

Your eyes scan before his home, taking in the beautifully structured building. As you part your lips to ask him why you were here, he steps closer and gently caresses your chin in his hands.

"If you're to become by wife, you need to meet my family."

♞ ♞ ♞

[incendiobrock]

The Driskill Hotel {Chris Sturniolo}

Summary: fem!reader x bf!Chris go to Austin, Texas with Matt and Nick to film a video for Sam and Colby's channel at the Driskill Hotel. The reader is very sensitive to the supernatural and gets convinced to do the elevator ritual alone... What could possibly go wrong? ;)

Warnings: anxiety/panic attacks, ghostly encounters, fear of elevators, language, FLUFFFFF

A/N: I know this video is from awhile ago but I've had this idea and couldn't stop thinking about it. I started my page with imagines like this for Colby x reader and so I wanted to throw it back to my roots and make a Chris x reader (because I'm a die hard Chris girl)

Part 2??

You had been a fan of Sam and Colby for years, enjoying their content and being fascinated with their supernatural findings. There was always a part of you that was convinced you had a special connection with the supernatural, feeling extremely vulnerable and tethered to their world. Maybe it was due to your empathic nature, or maybe you were a undiscovered medium that hadn’t tapped into your powers.

You never tapped into your "abilities" because you were scared of what could possibly come from speaking to the dead. But when Nick, Matt, and Chris (and yourself) got asked to join in for an XPLR video on Sam and Colby's channel, you all knew that you couldn't pass it down. This is what led you all to Austin, Texas where the historic, haunted, Driskill Hotel was located.

The night had started somewhat normal, you all walked through the hotel with a tour guide where she explained the history of the building as well as the ghost inhabitants. Throughout the tour you would catch glimpses of shadow figures on the wall, hearing inaudible voices, and being extra sensitive to smells like cigar smoke and roses. The fear was definitely building inside of you when you observed that none of the rest of the group seemed to be experiencing the same things you were. You did your best to hold it together, knowing the triplets were excited to be included in the video, and not wanting to ruin your own experience of an inner fangirl being on an XPLR trip.

As the tour wrapped up and the night went on, Sam and Colby began to lead the investigation portion of their video. You stayed glued to Chris' side, feeling comfort in his presence, even with everything going on around you. Chris held an EMF reader in his left hand as his right hand was busy interlocking your fingers, running his thumb over your knuckles soothingly. He couldn't tell if you were nervous or if you were just trying to hone in on filming the video since you were all a guest to Sam and Colby's channel.

You and Chris stayed slightly behind the group as you made your way over to the elevators on the main lobby for the next part of the video, the elevator ritual. The elevators had already been acting up earlier in the night, not wanting to take you guys up to the floor you had requested. Elevators weren't necessarily your favorite inventions, a slight irrational fear of being stuck in one or one falling with you inside.

"Matt, the ghosts seem to really like you. Maybe you should be the one to do the ritual." You heard Sam say, observing how the EMF in Matt's hand continued to light up to red as they crossed through the grand lobby. As you passed by the receptionist desk you saw the figure of a tall man dart across the wall, making you subconsciously squeeze Chris' hand out of fright. "What's up baby? You okay?" Chris asked softly, pausing in his tracks to check up on you.

"Did you see that?" You asked him back, hoping that maybe you weren't going as crazy as you thought you were. Chris furrowed his eyebrows, glancing around the rotunda, trying to see whatever it was you were talking about. "See what?"

You let out a shaky breath, your palms becoming clammy as all the supernatural sensitivity was beginning to catch up to you. The hand that was holding onto Chris' disconnected as you rubbed the sweat on your pants, "I keep seeing shadows on the walls..." Chris frowns at your reply, wrapping his arms over your shoulders and pulling you into a hug. His lips pressed a firm kiss on your forehead, "I won't let anything hurt you, I promise."

"Chris! Y/n! You guys coming?" Colby asked, staring at you two from down the hall where they had stopped in front of the elevators. "Yeah we're coming, sorry!" Chris responded, gently pulling away from the hug and instantly wrapping his hand back in yours. As you stood in front of the elevator doors Sam explained to the camera, and to all of you, what the elevator ritual would consist of.

"y/n, will you do the honors?" Sam questioned, pulling your out of your trance and causing your jaw to drop open. "Huh? What?" You stuttered, not registering what he had elected you to do for this ritual.

"Do you want to do the ritual?" He rephrased, looking at you with big, hopeful eyes. Your body tensed at the thought, not only did elevators terrify you, but you had already been experiencing paranormal things the whole night. "You don't have to if you don't want." Chris said, breaking the short silence that filled the room, knowing you were already on edge and trying to stand up for you in case you were wary about doing it. "Uh, yeah, I think I could do it... I would just need to write down the order of the floors." You said, uncertainty filling your voice.

"Awesome! I'll text it to you." Sam said, beginning to type up a message to send to your phone. A lump began to form in your throat as you awaited the notification being sent to you. Chris gently rubbed your lower back, doing his best to calm your anxiety without bringing too much attention to your state, understanding that you didn't like when others were aware of your intimate emotions. Your phone vibrated in your hand, looking down to see the message;

12:00AM

Sam: 4, 2, 6, 2, 10, 5, 1

"Okay it's exactly midnight, you have to start now." Colby said, pressing the up button and watching the elevator door open. You took the camera from him, not saying a word as you faced the elevator. You swallowed the lump in your throat, knowing there was no way you could back out of this now. Stepping into the elevator you instantly felt chills run up your spine.

"Now remember, when you get to the fifth floor a lady might join you. If she does then when you try to come back down to the lobby the elevator will actually go up to the tenth floor, that's how we will know it worked. If it comes back down to one then the lady didn't enter and the ritual failed." Sam said, reminding you and the audience how things were supposed to go.

Shakily, your finger made its way up to press the number four, officially beginning the ritual. The door slowly shut in front of you, keeping eye contact with Chris until you couldn't anymore. The elevator rose and the door opened, nobody was there. Floor two, nothing.

Sixth floor.

Second floor, again.

Tenth floor.

Then finally, the fifth floor. Your breath caught in your throat as the elevator door opened unusually slow, revealing an empty hallway. 'This is just a game', 'It's not real', you tried reminding yourself as your heart beat uncontrollably inside your chest. You waited for a couple seconds before pressing the button for the first floor, praying that this stupid ritual hadn't actually worked. The doors shut and the elevator began to descend back to the first floor, allowing you to let out a breath you didn't even realize you were holding. "I guess the ritual failed guys," You lightly giggled talking into the camera, feeling relief wash over your whole body.

"Woah!" You yelped, almost dropping the camera as the elevator slightly dropped, the lights inside flickering. The screen above the door signaling that you were on the third floor. Before you knew it the elevator came to a halt, stopping dead in its tracks on the third floor.

"What? Oh no, no, no, no, no..." You whispered, panic rising inside of you as you dropped the camera to the floor and made your way to the control panel. You smashed the button for the first floor over and over again, hoping the elevator would start to move again. Nothing was happening however, the buttons not even lighting up when you pressed them. You began to reach into your back pocket for your phone, pulling it out to call Chris.

The dial tone played as you dropped to the floor in a seated position, legs shaking beneath you. After three rings Chris' voice filled your left ear, "Hey babe, why did you stop on the third floor? We were waiting for you to come back down-" He said quickly before you cut him off.

"Chris! The elevator is stuck! I don't know what to do, I'm freaking the fuck out!" Your breath became labored as you heaved in and out, feeling like no matter how much air you inhaled it wasn't reaching your lungs correctly. "Woah, woah. Okay, calm down please! Just breath alright? Listen to my breathing!" Chris instructed, knowing you were on the verge of a panic attack.

He let out slow, steady breaths of air while your vision began to blur with tears. Your head started to heat up and your ears began to ring, "I-I can't Chris... I can't breathe!" You huffed, clenching your hand over your aching heart.

"The elevators stuck, somebody go try and find someone to help!" You faintly heard Chris yell to the other boys, holding the phone away from his ear so it wasn't directed to you. "Yes you can, I believe in you babe. Nick is going to get some help, okay? Just hang in there." He continued to comfort you through the phone, coaching your breath back to normal as Nick found an employee. After five minutes, which felt like an eternity to you, the elevator doors where being pried open. The elevator had stopped just barely off center to the second floor, making the door inoperable on your side.

When the doors were finally opened you couldn't help but let the tears you had been containing fall, all the overwhelming fear catching up to your eyes. The employee held out a hand for you as you jumped the three foot distance onto the second floor lobby, landing slightly unsteady as the tears blurred your vision. Chris rushed over to you, faster than you had ever seen him move before, pulling you deep into his embrace.

"There, there, I got you. I got you, don't worry." He said, running his big hand through your hair. Your arms wrapped tightly around his torso, scared that he might disappear if you didn't hold him close. Tears stained his jacket sleeve as you buried your head into his shoulder. You both stayed like that for awhile, the others watching as you crumbled into Chris' arms.

Once you had finally cooled down, you all sat on some couches that were in the main lobby. You drank some water that Nick had brought for you as you stayed by Chris' side, his arm wrapped over your shoulders. "Y/n, I am so so sorry that the elevator got stuck. I had no idea that was going to happen and I feel horrible. I didn't realize you were scared of elevators." Sam apologized to you, feeling guilty that he had put you in this position in the first place.

"Sam, it's not your fault! How would you have known the elevator was going to get stuck?" You said sincerely, appreciating his apology even though he had nothing to do with the unfortunate situation.

"If you guys need to call it a night and go back to your hotel, we completely understand." Colby said, offering to end the night where it was instead of finishing out the investigation. "No, it's okay. I'm good now, really. There's no need to scrap the rest of the video just because of me." You reassured, wanting the boys to finish the video they had put so much effort into already.

"Are you sure?" Chris asked you.

"Yes, I'm sure. Now who's ready for the Estes Method?"