#and they are not easy to work with people at the best of times
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Something which I also think would be useful for people to understand is that they have to strategise their speech.
Right wing people know this, because they speak differently among themselves than they do on social media and such because they want to appear reasonable in their use of dog whistles and such, that make people who know what they're talking about either seem crazy or unable to remove their schostastic terrorism or such.
But what I think a lot of left wing people think is that being correct and on the good side of history etc means that people will always agree with them, or be evil. Never mind that there's the stereotype of leftist infighting, a lot of people seem to be either ashamed of their past and less informed behaviour, or copy the behaviour of their favourite posters (who are usually irony poisoned and sarcastic at the least, and angry warriors of truth otherwise).
The things you've got to do when you come across someone who you disagree with is first think: What do I want out of this encounter?
Do you want to change how anyone thinks?
This can be no, if you just want to let off steam or shout at people, instead think "Is this the right person to shout at?" Will you make yourself look like an idiot?
Shouting at someone can be fine, like shouting is used to either get people in line or get people to fuck off.
Shouting works when it's either someone you largely agree with who is doing something fucked up and you go "what the fuck?" and talk to them, but mass shouting when it's someone you largely agree with does not work in that way. I've never seen a lot of people shouting at someone who they agree with 99% on things, ending up productive. It just creates divides and ends up as a form of harassment.
If you want to shout at someone for catharsis, the best way to do this is to do a sort of preaching to the choir about something fucked up you've seen, or shouting at an in person protest.
Since this is also an option for if you don't want to change someone's mind, if you find someone so entrenched and fucked up in their beliefs that they are unlikely to change, so long as you aren't going to repost their beliefs to shout at them, then shouting at them can be a way to let off steam. It won't do anything else, and may make you more angry, but it's an option.
But what if you want to change someone's mind?
First like, who are you talking to? Let's put them in a few groups:
Fellow leftist, problematic liberal, typical conservative, outright fascist
Starting from the fascist: You will not be able to change their mind and make them realise the folly of their ways.
They can change their own minds, but arguing with them will not do that. It's a special job to deradicalise fascists. The best things you can do are either:
A. bait them into saying something which they can be reported for/look into their blogs to see if they have anything reportable
B. block them, spreading their hate speech just to debunk it is still spreading their hate speech, you can debunk things without sharing the original
C. humiliate them. What you do is you need to make them look stupid by baiting them into showing their ass while you just show calm facts and logic. They often rely on appearing to be the sensible and calm one to appeal to people who are less fascist than they are, because they are irritating and cherry-pick facts it can be easy to get angry, so if you get too pissed off to do this then just block them.
Now on the typical conservative, sometimes they can be the fascist sort, where they're too deep in whatever hole, and you can just treat them as above, but if you learn to tell the difference between people who are just out to waste your time and people who are actually curious and have just picked up fucked up information (such as the example above) then if you just take your time and target your speech to align with some of their preconcieved ideas, you may be able to get them to doubt themselves on something.
You will not be able to make them suddenly a leftist, you also will probably not be able to make them even centrist, but pushing seeds of doubt is fine. Just don't spend too long, and make sure you're definitely able to tell if someone has curiousity or not. People who lack curiosity are often time wasters and will not care at all about what you're saying.
It can also be useful to get a bunch of responses to their thought terminating clichés and channel your inner MCU or something, such as "I thought the left was supposed to be tolerant" "you're confusing tolerant with a doormat/no that's the liberals/of what? assholes?"
With problematic liberals, they may be generally nice people who just say something a bit fucked up, or might just not know about something. Like let's say there's a link you post with saying "White people should read this." and they respond defensively with "Why do I need to read that?" the wrong response would be "Are you some sort of racist or something?" which is starting a fight. Whether they're a racist or not, they are less likely to engage with the information. Instead it's possible to just answer the question, which might be something like "It might be some interesting information you've never thought of before, which can help you treat other people better."
Some people can just be very annoying, feel free to block whoever whenever, and sometimes the way people brains work are different, so you can't figure out what each other means, feel free to say "Sorry, this is just frustrating and I don't think we're going to resolve anything." but someone not being as left as you doesn't mean they are inherently going to go rightwards. You can help them on a journey by giving them suggestions and telling them facts that they might not know.
Saying things like "just fucking google it" really doesn't work nowadays especially, since google is so full of shit. So having a bunch of useful bookmarks might be an idea if you want to try and convince people who are almost leftists to give it a go, rather than telling them to fuck off.
Liberals are much more appreciative of a bit of truth and facts and maybe a podcast recommendation than many leftists think. There's even many liberals who you might talk to when you are out and about IRL, you can convince them of things like sensible nuclear policy and how more bike lanes are good for everyone.
With fellow leftists, there are many different but similar sorts of arguments. Maybe someone is having a bad day and is fighty, maybe someone is just an asshole who loves to pick fights, maybe you have the same thing but from different angles and just need to work out where it is, maybe someone is just frustrated with the way how they feel powerless and has found one thing they can shout about which is unfortunately wrong but makes them feel good about themselves.
You gotta see where people are coming from on things, sometimes you just gotta block people, not that they're even bad, but just like you know fundamentally you're going to find some of the ways they think to be really irritating, or some of their comparatively harmless jokes just piss you off and it's not worth fighting about.
With leftists, sometimes taking the argument on head on is not the best way to go about things, the best thing to do is try and find where the argument comes from. Check in with your comrades, see how they're doing. Try and keep things in plain language if jargon seems to obfuscate your meanings, and try and rephrase things and see if the other person is willing to also rephrase things. Try and reach a stage where you both understand the other person's argument. Maybe you can reconcile?
Also maybe the other person just doesn't know about some information you have as well? Try keeping things cheerful. If someone really is a dickhead then you can just block them.
And one thing I've gotta say with all of this:
If you don't feel up to it, then don't do it, but don't make it worse. If you don't want to talk to someone, then don't. Also don't take this as tone policing, if someone demands politeness when they've not given it, they can fuck off.
Might I give some advice:
Not everyone has (or needs to have) the energy to thoughtfully respond to republicans on the Internet. You do not have to do that.
But some people do, and can. And I think we gotta let them.
An example:
I have a former teacher, I'll call her Grace, who is an incredibly kind woman in her 70s. Devout catholic, had voted for various parties over the years, but has been pretty strictly democrat over the past 15-20 because that aligns with her values of kindness and service.
She shared a post about the pope's recent letter and expressed that she agreed with his concerns about how trump is treating immigrants. A friend of hers commented a long paragraph basically saying "dear Grace I care for you but I don't understand how you can be a Christian and a democrat. Blah blah abortion blah blah gender blah blah drugs."
Grace replied "I'm very busy right now but I am going to respond to you soon with my thoughts". When she did it was an incredibly generous, rational monologue that connected with this person's humanity, their shared religious values, and made a beautiful case for why she supports who she does. I didn't agree with a good half of what she said as I am not a Christian, but the result was an expression of values that I think put her on the side of justice and compassion.
The person replied and thanked her and said she had a lot to think about. It was probably the best case scenario for a Facebook politics conversation
You know what came very close to ruining it? A bunch of (mostly younger) people piling on with "fuck you you racist maga pos" and "no one has to explain anything to you, go to hell" etc etc. Even after Grace wrote that she intended to reply herself.
I watched this republican respond to all the easy, quick insults by saying "this is why I don't think any democrats can be Christian, this is how you all speak to me." If Grace hadn't put so much work into writing her response in a way that was tailored to fit this person, I would not be surprised if that person left Facebook doubly certain that Christian nationalism is the way to go.
I'm not saying we can't cuss out jackasses. I'm not saying everyone needs to respond to bad faith arguments like Grace did or use their time like she did.
But this was on Grace's Facebook page, and interrupted the work she already volunteered to do. Just so these individuals could feel like they "did something" and got a shot off at an enemy.
I think that's selfish and childish and unproductive. They could have said anything they wanted in their own space, but they made grace's job harder for no fuckin reason. And then "loved" her reply and said "that was beautiful Grace, thank you for sharing your thoughts"
Like... Buddies. Pals. If someone volunteers to scrub the toilet fucking let them.
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First of all, I really like your posts but I feel like I am too dumb for some of your answers. They are so poetic and I... Am not. So I don't understand some of them, could you explain how to shift and deal with 3D for a dumb dumb person?
okay first of all you’re not dumb !!!! you just have different ways of processing information. that’s normal. my brain just works like a victorian poet who’s been trapped in a storm for three days. but i got you.
shifting is just moving your awareness. you do it all the time without realising. daydreaming? shifting. getting lost in a book? shifting. waking up and forgetting where you are for a second? shifting. the only difference is now you’re doing it on purpose.
how to shift.
i , decide where you want to go. be clear. what’s the vibe? what do you want to experience?
ii , relax. you don’t have to be in a perfect position. just get comfortable.
iii , focus on your dr. think about it, feel it, imagine it however works best for you. some people visualise, some just know it’s real. both work.
iv , detach from 3d. this is the hardest part but also the easiest. stop worrying about whether it’s working. if you’re thinking “but i’m still here,” that’s just a thought, not proof. shifting isn’t about forcing, it’s about letting go.
v , allow it to happen. you don’t have to do anything special. your consciousness will move when you stop gripping onto 3d so hard.
dealing with the 3d while waiting.
stop acting like 3d is the enemy. it’s not a prison, it’s just one layer of reality.
shifting is easy when you stop needing it. desperation makes it harder.
do things that make you feel good in 3d. be a little delusional. let yourself enjoy things.
stop overcomplicating it. if you tell yourself shifting is impossible, your brain will believe you. if you tell yourself it’s natural, your brain will believe that too.
#asks#emma motivates#reality shifting#shifting motivation#realityshifting#shifting community#desired reality#reality shift#shifting#shifting realities#shifting blog#shifting reality#kpop shifting#marauders shifting#shifting antis dni#reality shifting methods#reality shifting community#shifting consciousness#shifting methods#shifting realities stories#shifting memes#shifting script#shifting diary#shifting stories#shifting storytime#shifting advice#shifting ideas#shifting to desired reality#shifting tips#shifting thoughts
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MORE THEN FRIENDS
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Synopsis -> Heeseung has always been your best friend—but lately, the lingering touches and stolen glances feel different. Maybe he’s been waiting for you to realize he’s meant to be more.
Pairing -> best!friend!heeseung x fem!reader
Genre -> oneshot, best friends to lovers, suggestive
Status -> complete
Wc -> 3.4k
Note -> requestet by this ask :) hope you enjoy
The first time you met Heeseung, he was the quiet new kid in your fourth-grade class, staring down at his desk while nervously tapping his pencil. You had been assigned as his seat partner, and while the rest of the class chattered around him, he stayed silent.
Ever the curious one, you nudged his arm with your elbow. “Wanna trade snacks?” you asked, holding up your peanut butter sandwich.
Heeseung hesitated, his eyes flickering up to meet yours for the first time. Then, without a word, he slid his pack of strawberry Pocky across the desk. You grinned, breaking your sandwich in half and handing it to him.
And just like that, you were inseparable.
___
Middle school was a blur of shared lunch trays, inside jokes, and whispered secrets. Heeseung wasn’t as shy anymore—not with you, at least. He still liked to keep to himself, but you were the exception to that rule.
You balanced each other out. Where you were loud and impulsive, he was calm and thoughtful. Where you rushed headfirst into things, he held back and thought things through.
When the other kids teased you for being “too much,” Heeseung was always there, rolling his eyes and telling you they were just jealous. And when Heeseung got called a nerd for acing every math test, you sat beside him at lunch and loudly declared that smart people were hot anyway.
Back then, everything was simple. Heeseung was your best friend, and you were his. No questions asked. No complicated feelings.
But then came high school. And suddenly, things weren’t so simple anymore.
___
Heeseung had always thought you were pretty. Even back in middle school, when you still had braces and a habit of tripping over your own feet, he knew there was something about you that pulled people in—pulled him in. But he never really understood what that feeling meant until sophomore year.
It happened at a school dance, of all places. You had dragged him there, even though he insisted he hated school events. You’d rolled your eyes and called him a grandpa, saying, “Come on, Hee, what’s the worst that could happen?”
The worst, apparently, was watching you slow dance with someone else.
He hadn’t realized he was gripping his soda can so tightly until Jake nudged him. “Dude, you look like you wanna kill someone.”
Heeseung forced a laugh. “What? No. I just…” He trailed off, eyes fixed on you—on the way you laughed at something your dance partner said, on the way they spun you around like you were weightless. And that’s when it hit him.
He was in love with you.
It was a terrifying realization, one that made his stomach twist into knots. Because the moment he understood his feelings, he also understood something else—you didn’t feel the same way.
After that night, Heeseung tried to ignore his feelings. He told himself it was just a phase, just a stupid crush that would go away if he stopped thinking about it.
He dated other girls. Not many, but enough to convince himself he was over you. But it never worked, because every time something good happened, you were the first person he wanted to tell. And every time something bad happened, you were the only person who could make it better.
So, he buried his feelings. He smiled when you talked about your latest crushes, pretended it didn’t sting when you called him your platonic soulmate, and kept being the best friend you needed him to be.
Because loving you was easy. It was having you that was impossible.
___
Now, standing on the edge of adulthood, you still saw Heeseung as your constant, your safe place. But Heeseung? He had spent years pretending not to love you.
And he was starting to wonder how much longer he could keep up the act.
If someone had told Heeseung years ago that he’d still be hopelessly in love with you, he would’ve laughed it off. He had convinced himself—or at least tried to—that his feelings would fade with time. That someday, he’d wake up and you’d just be his best friend again, nothing more.
But here he was, sitting across from you in your favorite café, watching as you stirred sugar into your coffee with that same absentminded concentration you always had, and he knew—he had never stopped loving you.
“You’re staring,” you teased, snapping him out of his thoughts.
Heeseung scoffed, leaning back in his chair. “No, I’m not.”
“You totally are.” You smirked, taking a sip of your drink. “What? Do I have something on my face?”
Heeseung wanted to tell you the truth—that you had his whole heart on your face, that he couldn’t look at you without wanting to memorize every little detail. But instead, he rolled his eyes. “Yeah, you have ‘annoying’ written all over it.”
You gasped dramatically. “Wow. Is this how you treat your best friend? Unbelievable.”
There it was. That word. Best friend.
Heeseung swallowed down the bitter taste that always followed when you said that. He knew it wasn’t your fault—you had no idea how he felt. How could you? He had spent years making sure you didn’t.
But lately, it was getting harder to pretend. Harder to keep smiling when you told him about your latest date, harder to act normal when you rested your head on his shoulder like it was the most casual thing in the world. Because to you, it was casual. But to Heeseung, every touch, every laugh, every moment with you felt like something he wasn’t allowed to have.
And it was slowly driving him insane.
“Hello? Earth to Heeseung?” Your voice cut through his thoughts, and he realized you were waving a hand in front of his face.
“Sorry, what?” He blinked.
“I was saying, do you wanna come over tonight? Movie night, just like old times.” You smiled, eyes bright with excitement.
It was an innocent offer. Just another normal night in your friendship. But to Heeseung, it was another reminder of how much he wanted but could never have.
Still, he nodded, forcing a grin. “Yeah, sure. Wouldn’t miss it.”
Because no matter how much it hurt, being close to you—even as just a friend—was better than not having you at all.
___
Movie nights with Heeseung were nothing new. They had been a tradition since high school—just the two of you, a ridiculous amount of snacks, and an unspoken rule that you had to rewatch at least one childhood favorite before the night was over.
But tonight felt… different.
You couldn’t quite put your finger on it. Maybe it was the way Heeseung seemed quieter than usual, his gaze lingering on you for a second too long when he thought you weren’t looking. Or maybe it was the way your heart kept skipping beats whenever his knee brushed against yours on the couch.
You shook the thought away, grabbing a handful of popcorn. It’s just Heeseung. Your best friend. Stop being weird.
“What do you wanna watch?” you asked, flipping through the streaming options.
Heeseung shrugged, leaning back against the couch. “You pick.”
“You always say that.”
“And yet, you always pick something terrible.” He smirked, reaching over to steal some of your popcorn.
You gasped, smacking his hand away. “Excuse you! I have excellent taste.”
He snorted. “Sure, if excellent taste means forcing me to sit through three-hour-long romance movies where nothing happens except people staring at each other.”
“You like those movies, don’t lie.”
“I like suffering through them for you—big difference,” he muttered under his breath.
You rolled your eyes, but the warmth in your chest spread just a little. Heeseung always did that—acted like he was just tolerating the things you loved, when in reality, he indulged you more than anyone ever had.
You ended up picking a random movie, something lighthearted, but halfway through, you barely paid attention. Your focus kept drifting to Heeseung—his stupidly perfect side profile, the way his lips parted slightly when he was concentrating, the little crease in his brow when something in the movie confused him.
It wasn’t like you had never noticed before. You had eyes, after all. But tonight, it was like your brain refused to brush it off as nothing.
You shifted slightly, only to realize just how close the two of you were sitting. At some point, Heeseung had draped his arm across the back of the couch, and without thinking, you had leaned into his side. It wasn’t unusual. You’d done this a hundred times before.
So why did it feel like your whole body was hyper-aware of him?
A scene in the movie made you laugh, and without thinking, you turned to share the moment with him—only to find him already looking at you.
Your breath hitched.
He didn’t look away.
For a second, neither of you moved. The only sound in the room was the muffled dialogue from the movie, but everything else faded into the background. His gaze flickered down—to your lips, just for a split second—before returning to your eyes.
And suddenly, you knew.
You knew what had been different about tonight. You knew why your heart was racing, why his touches felt electric, why the way he looked at you sent heat rushing through your veins.
Because for the first time, you were seeing Heeseung in a way you had never let yourself before.
And maybe—just maybe—you were falling for your best friend.
Your heart pounded as you stared at Heeseung, the glow of the TV flickering against his face. He wasn’t looking away.
He always looked at you—watching, waiting, as if he had something to say but never quite found the words. But tonight, for the first time, you weren’t oblivious to it. You weren’t brushing off the way his eyes lingered, the way his fingers twitched against his thigh like he wanted to reach for you but held himself back.
And maybe, for the first time, you didn’t want him to hold back.
You swallowed, trying to play it off. "Why are you staring at me like that?"
Heeseung’s jaw clenched slightly, and his voice came out lower than usual. "You’re the one staring first."
You weren’t. Or maybe you were. It didn’t matter.
The tension between you felt thick, heavy, like a rubber band stretched too tight, on the verge of snapping.
And then it did.
You weren’t sure who moved first, but suddenly, Heeseung’s lips were on yours, crashing into you like he had been waiting for this moment forever. Maybe he had. Maybe you had, too, without realizing it.
A small gasp left your lips, but Heeseung didn’t hesitate—his hands found your waist, pulling you closer, and you melted into him like you had been made to fit there.
The movie long forgotten, the only sound in the room was the ragged breathing between kisses, the quiet sighs you couldn’t hold back as Heeseung deepened the kiss. His hands roamed—one sliding up your back, the other gripping your thigh as he pulled you onto his lap.
You should’ve felt nervous. This was Heeseung, your best friend. The one who had always been by your side, the one you told everything to. But right now, nothing about this felt wrong. If anything, it felt like something that had been waiting to happen.
His lips trailed down, grazing the corner of your jaw, your neck—hot and unhurried, like he wanted to take his time memorizing every inch of you.
"Hee," you breathed, hands tangling in his hair.
His grip on you tightened, and a low groan rumbled from his chest, sending shivers down your spine. "You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this," he murmured against your skin.
The confession made your stomach flip. Because if he had wanted this for a long time… why did it take you so long to see it?
You pulled back slightly, just enough to look him in the eyes. They were darker than usual, filled with something raw, something unspoken.
"Why didn’t you ever say anything?" you whispered.
Heeseung exhaled a shaky breath, his fingers brushing against your cheek. "Because I was scared you’d never look at me the way I look at you."
Your heart clenched. How had you been so blind?
You cupped his face, your thumb tracing over his cheekbone. "I’m looking at you now."
And then, you kissed him again—slow, deep, like you were making up for all the lost time.
This wasn’t just a kiss. It was years of unsaid words, years of stolen glances, years of Heeseung loving you in silence.
And finally, finally, you were listening.
Heeseung’s lips moved against yours like he had been waiting forever—slow at first, savoring every second, but growing more desperate with each passing moment. His fingers dug into your waist as if he was afraid you might slip away, but there was no chance of that happening. Not anymore.
You were completely, hopelessly lost in him.
Your hands tangled in his hair, tugging slightly, and Heeseung let out a quiet groan against your lips. The sound sent heat rushing through you, making your whole body feel like it was on fire.
He pulled you even closer—if that was even possible—until there was no space left between you. His hands roamed, one gripping your thigh, the other sliding up your back, leaving a trail of warmth in its wake.
When he kissed you again, it was different—deeper, rougher, like he had finally let go of whatever restraint he’d been holding onto.
And you wanted more.
You shifted slightly in his lap, your fingers tracing down his jaw, his neck, the sharp lines of his collarbone. Heeseung sucked in a sharp breath, his hands tightening around you.
"Y/N," he murmured against your lips, his voice rough, almost pleading.
It sent a shiver down your spine. You had never heard him sound like that before.
You leaned in, lips brushing against the corner of his mouth. "What is it?" you teased softly, barely above a whisper.
Heeseung let out a shaky laugh, tilting his head back against the couch. "You’re actually going to kill me."
You grinned, feeling a rush of confidence. "Oh? Am I?"
His hands squeezed your hips, grounding himself. "You have no idea."
The air between you was thick, charged with something neither of you had dared to acknowledge before tonight. But now that the line had been crossed, there was no going back.
You stared at him—his swollen lips, the way his chest rose and fell as he tried to steady his breathing. Heeseung had always been beautiful, but right now? Right now, he looked absolutely wrecked.
Because of you.
Something about that realization made your heart pound even harder.
Slowly, you traced your fingers over his jaw, your touch featherlight. "Then maybe you should do something about it," you murmured.
Heeseung’s eyes darkened.
And in the next second, he flipped you onto your back, hovering over you with a smirk that sent a fresh wave of heat through you.
"You don’t know what you’re asking for," he murmured, his voice lower now, sending shivers down your spine.
You bit your lip, fingers tangling in the fabric of his hoodie. "Show me."
Heeseung groaned softly before capturing your lips again, his hands gripping your waist as he deepened the kiss.
And this time, neither of you held back.
___
When you woke up, the first thing you noticed was warmth.
You were tangled in Heeseung—his arm draped over your waist, his face buried in your hair, his steady breathing fanning across your skin. The soft glow of early morning filtered through your curtains, casting everything in golden light.
And then it hit you.
Last night. The kisses, the way he touched you like he had been waiting forever, the way he looked at you—like you were the only thing that had ever mattered.
Your heart clenched.
What happens now?
You shifted slightly, and Heeseung groaned in protest, tightening his hold on you.
“Mm, don’t move,” he mumbled, voice rough with sleep.
You bit your lip, trying to ignore the way your stomach flipped at how soft he sounded. “Heeseung, we have to get up.”
“No, we don’t.” He buried his face deeper into your neck, his lips brushing against your skin. “Five more minutes.”
You hesitated, staring at the ceiling. What were you supposed to say? Did last night change everything? Were you still just… friends? Did he regret it?
Heeseung must’ve felt the tension in your body because he finally lifted his head, his eyes barely open, but still filled with something softer when they met yours.
“You’re overthinking,” he murmured.
You swallowed. “I just… what does this mean?”
Heeseung blinked at you sleepily before a small smirk played at his lips. “You want me to confess again, don’t you?”
Your face heated. “That’s not—”
He cut you off by leaning in, brushing a slow, lazy kiss against your lips. It was barely a kiss at all, just a soft press of his mouth against yours, but it made your whole body melt.
When he pulled away, he rested his forehead against yours. “I love you,” he whispered. “I think I always have.”
Your breath hitched.
It was one thing to realize your feelings, to feel them creeping up on you like a slow-burning flame. But hearing him say it—knowing that he had felt this way for so long—made your chest ache.
“I…” You hesitated, but only for a second. Because deep down, you already knew the answer.
You cupped his face, running your thumb along his cheek. “I love you too, Hee.”
Heeseung let out a small, relieved laugh before kissing you again—slow and sweet, like he was savoring every second.
And this time, there was no hesitation. No second-guessing.
Just you and him, exactly where you were always meant to be.
Heeseung kissed you again, slow and deliberate, as if making sure you weren’t just a dream. His hands rested gently on your waist, his thumbs tracing soft circles against your skin, grounding himself in the moment.
“I could get used to this,” he murmured against your lips, his voice still thick with sleep.
You smiled, fingers brushing through his messy hair. “Waking up late?”
“No.” He pressed another lingering kiss to the corner of your mouth. “Waking up with you.”
Your heart did an embarrassing little flip. “You’re such a sap.”
“Only for you.” His smirk was lazy, teasing, but his eyes held nothing but warmth.
You rolled your eyes, but the truth was—you liked this side of him. The Heeseung who was completely unfiltered, who didn’t hold back anymore. And maybe, deep down, you always had.
A comfortable silence settled between you as Heeseung shifted, pulling you impossibly closer until your head was resting against his chest. You could hear his heartbeat, steady and strong, and the warmth of his skin against yours made you wish you could stay here forever.
But reality was waiting.
Eventually, you sighed. “We really should get up.”
“No, we really shouldn’t.”
“Heeseung.”
“Y/N.” He mimicked your tone, grinning when you shot him a glare.
You tried to move, but he tightened his arms around you, effortlessly keeping you trapped against him. “Nope,” he said, voice muffled as he buried his face in your shoulder. “You’re staying right here.”
You huffed, but your resolve was crumbling. He was too warm. Too comfortable. And if you were being honest… you didn’t really want to move either.
“Fine,” you relented, nuzzling closer. “But only for five more minutes.”
Heeseung chuckled, his lips brushing against your temple. “You say that now.”
And, of course, five minutes turned into ten.
Then twenty.
And before you knew it, the two of you were still tangled together, lost in quiet laughter, whispered confessions, and soft, lingering touches.
Because for the first time, there was no rush. No reason to pretend.
For the first time, you weren’t just best friends anymore.
You were his. And he was yours.
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Hii! Hope you're doing great.
Can you do dorm leaders of twisted wonderland with a mute or blind reader? ( male reader)
It's okay if not and thanks! (✿❛◡❛)
This is a very fun one to do cuz I love to see disability rep in fanfics (especially as a disabled person!) I hope you don’t mind that I did deaf and blind!
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Riddle:
he just thinks you’re ignoring him at first when he yells at you to go to specific areas you don’t know, which leads to many instances of the collar being put on you
He gets curious when he sees deuce leading you around everywhere
Started to get suspicious when he found out you do all your essays and readings through the computer
Yeah he’s not the type to figure out you are blind on his own
Finally comes to a head as you’re painting the roses, he comes behind you and goes “NO THOSE ARE BLUE NOT RED! WHAT, ARE YOU BLIND OR SOMETHING?”
Awkward silence begins and it finally clicks
Poor boy is apologetic beyond belief and will do anything in his power to make up for it
Goes out of his way to make sure every single corner in the heartslabyul form has a cushion against it so you won’t hurt yourself
“I’m so sorry (name) I promise I didn’t know. Please, if there’s any way we can accommodate you more, let myself or Trey know!”
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Leona:
at first, he sees you as weak, an easy target
Until he tries to sneak up on you and get an elbow straight to the gut
He can tell right away that you don’t let being blind hold you back and DAMN does he respect it
Jack is given the duty of being your eyes, seeing as you have numeral classes together and are both freshmen
He adds a detail to spelldrive so you can play, making it so the disc beeps when it’s close to you so you can catch it
He will never admit that his instincts are telling him to take the small weak cub under his wing
“Look, in this dorm it’s survival of the fittest. If you’ve spent this long at NRC without being taken out by a dumbass, you got what it takes to be part of the dorm”
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Azul:
because of the Sea Witch stories, it became mandatory for all merfolk to learn some version of sign language
He can easily spot you are deaf and tries to strike up a deal first, only he mixes it up in his mind and signs ‘date’ instead
Both of you are blushing messes but why not?
You help to properly teach him and the tweels proper sign language and in return you now have 3 powerful and influential men there to protect you at any time
“I must ask, do you think it would be a fruitful venture to hold a paid for sign language class? Of course the proceeds would go to a charity! That charity being getting you those hearing aids you’ve been wanting”
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Kalim:
Is very confused as you don’t seem to hear him at all, making him practically yell
Jamil has to be the one to tell him that you could just be deaf
This mans is FLUENT in sign and will have the best gossip to tell you that only you two can hear
Jamil is happy cuz it keeps him out of trouble and keeps the dorm quiet
Until Kalim realizes he can raise the music so you can feel the bass
“Isn’t this awesome! I knew you’d love this song! Everyone deserves the chance to party in Scarabia!”
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Vil:
he has worked with plenty of people so it’s no surprise he knows how to sign
During the SDC, he makes sure you have a seat closest to the speakers so you can feel the vibrations the best
Offers several times to make you a hearing potion but accepts that it is a part of you that you wish to keep
ASL is now mandatory to learn in the Pomefiore dorm (with permission from Crowley who sees this as an opportunity to show how inclusive his school is)
“(Name) how does this seat work for you? Is it close enough to the speaker? Or would you rather have an interpreter? Just let me know potato”
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Idia:
it makes him feel so relaxed to know you can’t see him
You enjoy video games AND you can’t clock his looks? Hell yes
He’s ringing up STYX right away to sent a Cerberus unit as a guide dog for you
If you are up to it, he would love to make cyber eyes for you to give you sight back
Gets super excited hanging out with you and lets himself be himself because in his eyes you can’t see him so you don’t judge him
“-and yeah! He should be all set up for your fingerprint id! If any problems happen, like normies trying to get in your way, he has an op defense mode”
Malleus:
by FAR the most protective of you
Since you can’t see, he worries others will take advantage of that and he is NOT having that
He is your person guard dragon and will follow you around everywhere
Has set up his nest in Diasomnia (because I like the idea that he keeps dragon instincts like nesting and hoarding) to include a tactile pathway to both the bathroom and door so you have more sense of freedom
If he can’t guard you, Lilia will. Lilia is a lot more ferocious in his guarding as he had blind soldiers when he was a general
“Child of man, if you need anything, money is no problem. I could get you set up with working eyes if you would like. But if you prefer how you are, that’s alright too”
#disney twst#twst x reader#twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland x male reader#twisted wonderland x fem reader#leona kingscholar#malleus draconia#azul ashengrotto#kalim al asim#idia shroud#vil schoenheit#riddle rosehearts#twst fluff
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What doesn't help is the way that society as a whole views "failing" today. We see it as some kind of setback rather than a part of that process. We want the best end results NOW rather than have the patience or the time to go through this essential process of failing and struggling. Not to mention the way that some people, and especially social media and the internet--a mainstay in all of our lives now--shows success stories and the best of the best or the worst of the worst. There's no gray area to show those essential failures and learning processes, only the reward and the end result. It's like the process of "showing your work" in mathematics. As a kid, I thought it was so stupid and frustrating to show this process, but now looking back, I'm so glad we were taught that. Because to just put it in a machine and get the result, and then get asked how we got there only to look like a backpedaling fool, shows just how broken the whole process of AI is. It steals from the people who've gone through that failing process and steals the education of it from others to only show the "best" or end results to save time. And the thing is, some people struggle and fail all their lives before ever seeing success, and with AI, yeah we can get results "fast and easy", but it's a failure in and of itself with the loss of that process. Now I'm just talking in circles, but...yeah. 😞
Something I don't think we talk enough about in discussions surrounding AI is the loss of perseverance.
I have a friend who works in education and he told me about how he was working with a small group of HS students to develop a new school sports chant. This was a very daunting task for the group, in large part because many had learning disabilities related to reading and writing, so coming up with a catchy, hard-hitting, probably rhyming, poetry-esque piece of collaborative writing felt like something outside of their skill range. But it wasn't! I knew that, he knew that, and he worked damn hard to convince the kids of that too. Even if the end result was terrible (by someone else's standards), we knew they had it in them to complete the piece and feel super proud of their creation.
Fast-forward a few days and he reports back that yes they have a chant now... but it's 99% AI. It was made by Chat-GPT. Once the kids realized they could just ask the bot to do the hard thing for them - and do it "better" than they (supposedly) ever could - that's the only route they were willing to take. It was either use Chat-GPT or don't do it at all. And I was just so devastated to hear this because Jesus Christ, struggling is important. Of course most 14-18 year olds aren't going to see the merit of that, let alone understand why that process (attempting something new and challenging) is more valuable than the end result (a "good" chant), but as adults we all have a responsibility to coach them through that messy process. Except that's become damn near impossible with an Instantly Do The Thing app in everyone's pocket. Yes, AI is fucking awful because of plagiarism and misinformation and the environmental impact, but it's also keeping people - particularly young people - from developing perseverance. It's not just important that you learn to write your own stuff because of intellectual agency, but because writing is hard and it's crucial that you learn how to persevere through doing hard things.
Write a shitty poem. Write an essay where half the textual 'evidence' doesn't track. Write an awkward as fuck email with an equally embarrassing typo. Every time you do you're not just developing that particular skill, you're also learning that you did something badly and the world didn't end. You can get through things! You can get through challenging things! Not everything in life has to be perfect but you know what? You'll only improve at the challenging stuff if you do a whole lot of it badly first. The ability to say, "I didn't think I could do that but I did it anyway. It's not great, but I did it," is SO IMPORTANT for developing confidence across the board, not just in these specific tasks.
Idk I'm just really worried about kids having to grow up in a world where (for a variety of reasons beyond just AI) they're not given the chance to struggle through new and challenging things like we used to.
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DINNER AND DIATRIBES
double feature: part a - part b
-> not only is mattheo too late to ask you out to the yule ball, you're going with harry potter of all people. now, his best friend is going to the ball with his nemesis and he has some feelings about it.
-> mattheo riddle x bsf! reader; part a; sfw; wc: 13k; cw: suggestive, mentions of violence; tags: friends to lovers, yule ball setup; again I wasn't able to tag everyone, sorry :(
( masterlist )
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There were many who would call Mattheo Riddle crazy. A bloodthirsty maniac, who couldn’t be bothered to feel attachment, or fear, or any normal human emotion for that matter. A psychopath who would snap on a whim and held an iron grip on the school when he wanted to.
But you had never been able to see him the way other people did, never could relate the picture the whispers and rumors painted to the man who was currently breathing down your neck. His nose ran down your skin and you could feel his boredom on your fingertips as he leaned his forehead against the back of your neck. His knee rocked unsteadily under you, making the thigh you had slung over his bounce up and down almost indiscernibly in return.
“Have you heard that Susan Bones is going with one of our house?” asked Pansy through the chatter surrounding you, widening her eyes dramatically. “Susan Bones. And a Slytherin. Merlin, I didn’t think I’d see the day, they must have the same freaky kinks or something to make that match work.”
Blaise’s laughter echoed off the stone walls of the dungeons. The Slytherin common room was painted in its usual emerald glow. It flickered across the tapestry showing scenes of a medieval wedding tonight. Only after spending more time with Pansy and the boys in your fifth year, and after weeks of hanging around with them in their common room, had you noticed that the tapestry kept changing its motif and scenery. Low chatter and conversation filled the space as groups of students were huddled around couches or desks, studying or talking, some of them reading by themselves. It wasn’t as busy as your common room, nor was it as loud, and you quite enjoyed the calmer atmosphere.
You sat comfortably on Mattheo’s lap, his arm draped lazily around your waist, fingers absentmindedly tracing circles on the fabric of your uniform skirt. It wasn’t unusual- your friendship with you-know-who’s son was quite affectionate, filled with easy touches and stolen warmth, a silent understanding of physical proximity neither of you ever questioned. But tonight, something felt different. His grip was a little tighter, his body a little tenser beneath yours, his usual sharp, sarcastic remarks replaced with a brooding silence as the others discussed the upcoming Yule Ball.
“I think I’d say yes to Diggory, if he asked,” Pansy mused, twirling a strand of dark hair between her fingers and quirking an evil little smirk at Blaise’s frown. “He’s got that whole golden-boy thing going on.”
Mattheo scoffed under his breath and you felt the brush of puffed-out air tingling the skin of your neck, his hand tightening slightly on your hip. “Golden-boy thing is just another way of saying boring.” His tone was clipped, disinterested, but you could still feel the way his legs bounced slightly beneath you, a tell-tale sign of his agitation. He’d been in a foul mood all day, propelling anyone near him or passing him in the corridors into a constant state of nervousness and vigilance.
As you thought back, you guessed his bad mood must have started back when Professor McGonnagall had announced the ball, halfway into december, and you felt your lips twitch at the thought that Mattheo Riddle might shy away from a dance. You shifted slightly in his lap, turning to look at him with a raised brow. “What’s got your robes in a twist?” you teased brazenly, delivering a playful nudge to his shoulder.
But instead of smirking back at you like he usually would, he simply huffed, gaze flickering away. “I just don’t see why any of you care so much,” he muttered. “It’s just a bloody dance.”
“And you call me a spoilsport,” huffed Theo next to the two of you, balancing a book in his lap. His eyes met yours and his lips curled into a mocking smile as they flickered back to Mattheo. Theo and you were probably his best friends- as well as the only ones who would ever tell him off for something. For good reason. Because the two of you were also, with high probability, the only ones Mattheo would never seriously hurt.
“Shut it, Nott,” mumbled Mattheo warningly and Theo shrugged, turning a page in his book.
Your body was still turned to Mattheo when Draco’s drawling voice spoke up. He was lounging in the best seat by the fire with an air of superiority. “I don’t know about you all,” he said uppishly, “But I already have a date for the Ball.”
“Really?” Pansy asked in surprise and shot up from where she was leaning against Blaise. Her eyes glinted at the prospect of being the first one to receive the newest gossip. Half the reason she was so excited for the Yule Ball had to be watching all the drama unfold. Having a front-row seat and sipping her red wine when the screaming matches and tearful breakups would start.
“Who are you going with?” asked Enzo, interested, from his place at the far end of the couch. He himself had already gotten three invitations to the Ball that day, all from very flustered looking, younger girls, and had to decline all of them with an apologetic smile, later complaining about it to his friends. And of course, you had all diligently listened to his woes before smacking him over the head with a pillow for being such a damn loverboy. And watching him shuffle his curls back into place.
“Daphne,” revealed Draco in a superior tone, watching his nails in feigned disinterest.
But Pansy sucked a loud breath in through her lips and gripped Blaises thigh so hard he let out a low noise of complaint. She ignored him, a predatory smile on his face. “Did you ask her or did she ask you?”
“Does that matter?” scoffed Draco lazily, but there was a very faint tint of pink on his pale cheeks. His displeased frown flickered over Pansy, Enzo, Blaise and you as you all started laughing. Mumbling something indiscernible, he pretended to be interested in the tapestry above, making Pansy bend forward with giggles.
“What about you, Pans?” you asked when she had calmed down and slumped back into Blaise, your eyes wandering back and forth between them. “Do you already know who you’re going with?”
With a secretive smile, Pansy shrugged but splayed a thigh over Blaise’s leg. Her manicured nails traced a line up his knee as she winked at you. “Who knows?” Her eyes flickered between you and the disgruntled looking Mattheo currently resting his chin on your shoulder and glaring into the emerald fire. “What about you?”
At the question, Mattheo’s hold on your waist stiffened. His fingers, that had been drawing lazy circles on your hip, suddenly stilled, pressing just a fraction harder into the fabric of your skirt. On your shoulder, you felt his jaw tense, a muscle ticking as he shifted slightly beneath you, his leg bouncing once more before he forced it to stop. Though he kept his gaze trained on the fire, his grip on you didn’t falter.
Normally, he held you like this when he had to somehow ground himself, threatening to lose himself in a whirlwind of anger and stress, moments before either jumping another student or being dragged off by you or Theo. But there was no one here that might have attracted his hate, and your brows scrunched up in a frown he couldn’t see. Anyone else might’ve missed the way his fingers flexed or how his breath grew just slightly uneven, but you felt it- every small, quiet reaction that betrayed his indifference.
Something about this Ball seemed to agitate him, and you placed a warm hand on his thigh to draw careful circles on it, in the hopes of appeasing whatever it was that fueled his bitter temperament.
“No plans,” you answered, as casually as possible. In truth, you had been hoping for Mattheo to ask you ever since the announcement. You had had a giant crush on him for months now, one that you sometimes thought he reciprocated, when his touch would grow a little to intimate, his face inch a little too close, his dark promises a little too sincere to be considered platonic. This was the downside to your rather touchy friendship, the fact that there was no clear line to cross, that you could never be sure.
Holding onto hope, you’d declined Harry’s invitation a few days before, still dreaming that he could feel the same about you, as Pansy constantly assured you. But if he didn’t ask you today… Glancing back at him carefully, you only caught half his face in your field of vision, but it showed no emotion. It was still hardened with the earlier tension, not a muscle twitching, not even a small look back at you.
Enzo leaned forwards slightly, propping his arms up on his knees and giving you a sly grin. “I heard Pucey’s thinking about asking you,” he insinuated, brows wiggling suggestively.
Before you could answer, Mattheo’s voices sounded against your neck, his chin still propped up on your shoulder. “Pucey can go fuck himself.” It was a low, dangerous sound and the group fell silent for a few seconds.
Something like excitement curled into your stomach, until you realized with a pang of disappointment that Mattheo’s disapproval of Pucey reached far deeper than some Ball. He was always raving and raging about him when he returned from his Quidditch practices, and made you card your hands through his curls until he considered himself appeased. Naturally, he wouldn’t want one of his best friends going out with his least favorite housemate. Naturally. Platonically. Disappointingly.
Pansy was the first one to speak again, the grin had found its way back onto her face as she turned to you once more. “So, that’s the verdict then, love? No secret admirers to swipe you away to the night of your life?”
She jiggled her brows suggestively, biting down on her bottom lip in a not so subtle way that made you chuckle and shake your head at her. Raising your hands in mock surrender, you leaned back into Mattheo whose chest seemed to be rising and falling a bit faster as he glared at Pansy. “No secret admirers that I know of.”
A low scoff sounded behind you, as Mattheo seemed much more eager to join the conversation than during the last half hour. “They wouldn’t be very secret if they knew what was good for them.”
Merlin, sometimes you wished he would talk more like your friend and less like… well, whatever this was. But his brows were furrowed so beautifully you could barely think about the implications of his words, or the way Pansy shrunk back instinctively at the look he was giving her, fingers curling around your thigh. Otherwise, you’d surely have scolded him for scowling at her like that.
Blaise hummed, rubbing circles on Pansy’s back and giving you a sly look. “You should go with someone … unexpected,” he suggested, mocking a thoughtful tone and expression, “Shake things up, y’know? Maybe you could release Enzo from his misery. Gryffindor Miss perfect with a Slytherin pureblood, story writes itself, doesn’t it?” You could hear his voice was meant to provoke, just who you weren’t sure. Because you merely laughed at the clearly unserious idea.
But over the amused look you shared with Pansy, you missed the way Enzo widened panicked eyes at Blaise as if he’d just thrown him under the bus, as well as the way Mattheo pulled you depper into his lap. You followed the urge subconsciously and leaned your head against his, still grinning. “Someone shocking, you say?” you picked up his statement, careful not to be too obvious, “Like who? Apart from poor Enzo, I mean.”
“Not fucking Pucey, that’s for sure,” said Mattheo under his breath and you bit down on your tongue, swallowing your disappointment. Pansy threw you a knowing look that you pretended not to see. You were being absolutely ridiculous.
A long, dramatically exasperated sigh came from the armchair near the fire were Draco was still sprawled out, toying with a loose strand of the leather cushions. “You could always go with Mattheo,” he suggested what you hadn’t had the guts to- quite ironic though it was; and ran his eyes over your intertwined figures. “Since you two can’t seem to spend five minutes apart anyway.”
In an attempt to overplay your flusteredness that he had brought it up, just said it out loud, while you were seated in Mattheo’s lap no less and one of his hands dipped under your shirt to bury itself in the meat of your tummy, you chuckled and scratched the back of your neck. Craning your head around, you smiled humorously at your friend. “What, and boost his ego even more?”
For the first time in a while, an actual grin finally played around his lips again as he kneaded the flesh of your belly, throwing you a challenging look. “You love my ego.”
Because one couldn’t simply lie to Mattheo without him knowing, you turned away with a laugh instead of answering his question. Joining in, Pansy watched the outline of Mattheo’s fingers against your shirt and smirked. Her glance back up at him was a silent promise not to let the topic go so easily, and he rolled his eyes at her behind your back.
“You do have standards, right?” asked Blaise lazily, passing around a bar of dark chocolate and shuffling around on the sofa to put his head in Pansy’s lap, who raised her brow but didn’t throw him off. Instead, she returned her attention to you.
“You should definitely go with someone who can actually dance,” she said, smirking.
You nudged Mattheo in the side, not catching the look in his eyes as they snapped up to your bright face. “So, not Mattheo then?”
Suddenly, his body seemed on alert again, no longer leaning against the cushions as his lips seemed to hover somewhere near your ear. If it was any indication, his breath fanned your earlobe and you had to suppress a shiver as his voice sounded low, next to your ear. “You don’t even know what I can do, sweetheart.”
Ah. Sweetheart. Damn the way your insides were curling with the way the nickname rolled off his tongue so smoothly. Mattheo had tried out many of those before settling on sweetheart, for some reason. You had loved every single one, from doll to darling to princess, but for some reason, Mattheo had decided that sweetheart was around to stay. So, now you were his sweetheart. In any sense but the literal one.
“Well,” said Enzo, carefully examining Mattheo, as if gauging if he was in a mood to be reasoned with. Not that he had to worry, Enzo was probably the fastest runner out of your friend group, always the least likely to get in trouble for a brawl or altercation because he was the first who disappeared from the scene of the crime, even before the teachers showed up, keeping him his prefect’s badge. “I heard something through the grapevine the other day-”
You believed to know what was coming now and your eyes widened as you shook your head at him. But Pansy leaned forwards eagerly, ignoring Blaise’s protests. “Go on!”
“Ah,” said Enzo, clearly deriving some sort of pleasure from having everyone hang onto his every word. “You see, some little birdie told me you had been asked out by Potter.”
Closing your eyes, you let the round of jeers and whistles that swept the others wash over you and buried your face in your hands, burning with embarrassment. When you looked up again, you met the eyes of five attentive listeners, eager to hear your side of the story. Even Theo had marked his page with an index finger and raised a brow at you expectantly. Only Mattheo was eerily still beneath you, his fingers having halted all movement.
“How do you get all this information?” you asked Enzo incredulously, rubbing the back of your neck again and trying to deflect from the fact he had just dropped- knowing nothing would fulfill your friends’ curiosity but your explanation.
“I have my sources,” said Enzo secretively and tapped his fingers against each other, watching you over them. “And it seems like they’re reliable.”
“You’re not- you know- going with him?” asked Pansy in an almost disgusted voice and you frowned at her. “I declined. But even if I didn’t, what would be wrong with that? He’s my friend after all.”
Your friends fell silent, probably swallowing down a round of insult they would gladly chat about once you were gone. Thinking of which, your eyes snapped to the clock above the fireplace and you jolted a bit when you saw the time. Before Pansy could open her mouth to ask you another question, you interrupted her. “Alright, this has been fun, but I’m leaving before this conversation gets worse- or before Filch starts patrolling the corridors.”
As you shifted to get up from his lap, Mattheo’s arm around your waist tightened instinctively, his fingers pressing into your side just enough to make you hesitate. You pushed against his chest lightly, but he didn’t budge, his grip lazy yet firm- like he wasn’t quite ready to let you go. Or, perhaps, punishing you, for being asked out by Harry.
“Mattheo,” you murmured, half amused, half embarrassed because all your friends were watching with teasing eyes and matching grins.
But he only smirked, his dark eyes flickering up to yours with a glint of something unreadable. “What?” he drawled, feigning innocence even as his hold on you lingered, burning against your skin. It took another small shove- this time with a bit more force behind it- for him to finally release you, his hands dragging down your sides as you slipped free, leaving behind a warmth that made your skin tingle even long after you stood.
“Yeah,” said Theo slowly, tapping his fingers against the back of his book as his eyes lingered on Mattheo, who was now looking at you in a way that made it quite difficult for you to move your feet in the right direction- and steadily at that. “You better go before Mattheo combusts.”
Mattheo rolled his eyes at Theo, though his gaze was still firmly locked on you. “Yeah, wouldn’t want to ruin the fun.”
With a light-hearted giggle, you pushed past the sofas and armchairs and waved them goodbye, earning a round of “Good night”s and “Have fun with the lions” in return. As your figure disappeared in the common room entrance, Mattheo's eyes lingered on the wall sealing itself again, as if you were still standing there.
“Well, that was painful,” commented Theo, leaning back against the cushions and glancing over at his best mate. “Watching you struggling not to show how much you care who she goes with.”
“I don’t,” the other lied, knowing it was in vain when he saw the devilish smirk spread on Pansy’s face. “You know, for someone who doesn’t care,” she emphasized the last words sarcastically, “you sure grabbed her like she was yours.”
You were. Feeling annoyed at the lot of them and knowing he would be subjected to a great deal of teasing until Theo’s desire for a smoke reached the level of his, Mattheo leaned back against the couch and rolled his eyes, trying not to focus his mind on the memory of you flush against him- right where he liked you best. “She was already sitting there. What, you wanted me to throw her off?,” he snarled back, glaring at one of the portraits to avoid Pansy’s raised brows. When it came to affairs of romance, she was surprisingly sharp. No wonder she seemed to know how much he fucking adored you.
Next to him, Theo coughed a false, ironic cough and Mattheo knew he couldn’t expect any support from that side either. “Mate, your hand was on her hip like you were staking a claim,” Theo drawled, giving him a smug look that Mattheo returned, unimpressed. “You want me to put my hand on your hip instead?”
“Dios mio, no,” replied Theo under his breath, reopening his book but still actively listening to the conversation unfolding.
Again, it was Pansy who broke the silence with a daring grin, crooking her head at Mattheo. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re mad she hasn’t asked you to the ball yet.”
Mattheo deadpanned, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Oh, yeah, Pans. I’m devastated.”
“You know,” Enzo piqued up now, smiling casually in the knowledge that he was on the winning side in this. “If you asked her nicely, maybe she’d go out with you.”
Leaning forwards, Mattheo gave him a sardonic smile, sneering, “Oh right.” His tone was mocking, exaggerated. “‘Please, love of my life, light of my existence, will you attend the stupidest event of the year with me?'” He did his best to sound nonchalant, as if the mere idea of asking you out on a date was absurd and not the subject of his more innocent daydreams.
But irony could only do so much to conceal how much he really meant the words, how they opened the door to a path to his deepest, darkest desires that he would rather not open right now. No, he preferred to visit those darker corridors of his sacreligious existence when he was alone, in his dorm, shame and excitement curling in his chest as he imagined you how he could never have you. Where nobody could see just how much you meant to him.
Draco let out a scoff from his place by the fire and everyone turned towards him instead. “Imagine if she said yes to Potter,” he said, expression morphing into one of disgust. “Imagine them slow dancing.” Mattheo, who knew exactly what purpose hid behind those carefully chosen words, couldn’t help but tightening his jaw at the idea, the image. If he hadn’t hated Potter enough already, the idea itself would have done it.
“Imagine me hexing you into next week,” he growled at Malfoym who fell silent immediately, but earned himself an appraising nod from Pansy.
“What if she actually did go with Potter though?” Blaise pried further, smirking up at him from where his head rested in Pansy’s lap.
Mattheo felt his patience undeniably tested, fingers flexing against his tense legs as one of them started to bounce restlessly. Merlin, how he could have smashed Blaise’s stupid, grinning face into this stupid, grinning portrait to make them both stop mocking him. But that would prove all of them right, and maybe he didn’t even want to admit to himself how much the image bothered him, how much it made him want to storm up to Gryffindor tower to eliminate the threat himself. “Then Hogwarts would need a new chosen one,” he gruffed out, voice low as his fingers itched for a cigarette.
The topic of you and your friendship had been one of great interest these past few months, ever since it had become normal for you to rest on each other's lap, run your fingers through each other's hair or sleep over in each other’s dorm. It had raised more than a few eyebrows, but Mattheo had always smirked them away, relishing in showing you off. This loose but ever-present claim he had on you, that made him feel perfectly entitled to stare down any boy you crossed when walking through the halls with him, it had been enough for him.
Up until now, it seemed. When they had gotten brazen enough to think that they could dare ask out his girl. Only that you weren’t, he had to remind himself. No matter how often he touched you, it wouldn’t make you his, properly, until he worked up the courage to ask you. But there was just one problem: himself. And the danger he put you in by making you something more than a friend.
“What makes you think I even want to go out with her?” he asked roughly, brows scrunched up in a bitter frown and aching for something to soothe his nerves. You would have been ideal, but alas, you were gone and he needed another, a lesser fix. When he glanced up, he was met with four pairs of raised brows, as his friends all stared at him incredulously.
“Mate,” said Enzo in a voice that suggested he was trying to reason with him. “You just had her in your lap. You glare at any guy who even looks at her. You beat up Zacharias Smith when he stood her up so bad he had to spend the holiday in St. Mungos, and the only reason you weren’t charged with something was because you literally threatened to kill him if he spoke to someone about it.”
Mattheo glowered at the ground, conflicting emotions clawing at his chest, desperate for release. He felt it again. The whirlwind of his own self, all-consuming, unstoppable, but by the your touch, the sound of your voice. When he felt like he was hovering with one foot over the abyss, threatening to be swept up by the confusing storm raging against the confines of his body, you were the only one able to reach him, reach out to him, calm his whirling thoughts, his flaring temper.
No wonder Enzo always ran for you whenever it looked like he was about to start a fight. He knew how utterly disarmed he was when you looked at him with those pretty wide eyes of yours. How your worry extinguished any and all rage inside him, making something else entirely pulse in his chest.
“Can’t I be a good friend?” he asked, sarcastically. But he knew the charade wasn’t fooling anyone anymore. Hell, it was not even fooling himself.
Pansy’s voice sounded surprisingly genuine, the teasing, though still present, taking a backseat to a hesitant reaching out. “Well, I think she would like you better as her boyfriend.”
Not wanting to even acknowledge the sincerity of the words, allow himself to think of the real possibility, get his damn hopes up only to get them squashed down again, he sniggered mockingly at her, a contemptuous smile dancing around his lips. Detached. “Well, I think she would have given some sort of indicator or signal if she felt that way.”
A stunned silence followed as all of them, even Theo, seemed completely taken aback. Pansy and Blaise shared an is he actually being serious right now sort of look and Enzo blinked, perplexedly, at his friend. All of them, completely stupefied with the blatant ignorance of the both of you. They had taken you to be oblivious because of some vague romantic insecurity, but Mattheo could usually be trusted to be quite observant, especially when it came down to you. His friends tended to tease him for being so much of a guard dog, having developed some kind of sixth sense for boys looking at you with greedy eyes and how he would press a quick goodbye kiss to your temple before excusing himself to go and sort them out.
But here he was, being so utterly oblivious to the way you clearly reciprocated his affections- how you would barely manage to conceal your blushing, how your eyes would linger on him, how you would stare at him lovingly when lost in thought, how he would always be your very first priority, how you would drop everything you were doing to come help him, even if it was about something some would consider utterly meaningless.
But alas, his ignorance seemed to match yours, and they had to sit and watch, growing ever more frustrated with the way you pined and yearned for each other without ever getting a fucking move on.
Theo was the first to break the silence, brow raised at Mattheo who still stubbornly glared at te ground. “So, what’s the plan? Keep glaring at every guy who looks at her until she magically realizes you’re in love with her?”
He had dropped the magic word. the l-word, that would never make it past Mattheo’s lips and could barely enter his thoughts, as if it was a trigger. Any time he heard it, he cringed involuntarily. But he was too tired of this day and this damn converssation to correct him. “Worked out so far,” he shrugged.
Theo rolled his eyes at him, and from the way his fingers twitched agitatedly against the bookcase, Mattheo knew he was just as eager for a smoke as him, meaning he would provide him with a way out of this fucking therapy session in under five minutes. The guy was just as addicted to nicotine as he was. “And how would you feel about it if someone asks her out tomorrow who she wouldn't be so quick to decline. How would you feel about it when she turns up to the ball with someone other than you?”
Nothing, was what he meant to say. But the words didn’t make it past his lips. They were chocked by the image of you, hanging onto another guy’s arm, laughing for another guy, dancing with another guy. Something dangerous coiled in his stomach, like a snake, ready to attack but with no one to sink its teeth into but himself.
“Fucking hell,” he cursed darkly, his fists clenched so hard his knuckles were plain white, close to cracking, or so it seemed to him.
Theo nodded appreciatively, rising from his seat as Mattheo followed, running a calloused and shaky hand over his face. “You know what to do then.”
When you pushed open the portrait of the Fat Lady, you were greeted with a warmth both the Slytherin common room and the halls of Hogwarts had been missing. Loud chattering and laughter filled the room, the figures of many Gryffindor students in the golden hue of the cackling fireplaces. Where Slytherin’s common room was undeniably more stylish and sophisticated, your common room was just cozy.
You spotted your friends sitting by the fire, having snatched the best sofa for themselves. Hermoine seemed to be working on an essay, Ginny’s nose was buried in her book, and over the rim of the worn out cushions, you spotted the heads of Harry and Ron, setting on the carpeted floor between sofa and fireplace. Walking over to them, you let your bag down with a thud that made some of them turn their heads and smile in greeting, though you could see the light frowns on some of their faces.
They were equally as unpleased about your friendship with their Slytherin peers as they were about your Gryffindor housemates. Really, it was only natural, seeing as the two groups had a history of picking petty fights with each other and landing the others in the hospital wing. At least some of them held their frustration with the others back for the quidditch pitch, but the same couldn’t be said for all of them.
But your friends’ disapproival of your Slytherin friendgroup was nothing compared to their objection to your attachment to Mattheo Riddle, son of Lord Voldemort himslef and Harry’s personal nemesis since first grade. Not only were they among the students whispering about his reputation and dark legacy behind his back, Harry (and Ron) had also been on the receiving end of Mattheo's fists before- and hit back.
As you sat down between Hermoine and Ginny on the couch, you saw that Harry and Ron were sitting on the carpet, facing each other, a board of wizard chess in between them. The game seemed to have been going on for a while already, as a larger pile of defeated white figures and a smaller one of black figures lay by the side of the board. Harry seemed to be losing, as anyone would, against Ron. Watching Ron make a clever move against him, you lamented that you would love to see him play with Theo- it would certainly be a battle for the ages.
Ron looked up from the game when you got comfortable in the squishy cushions of the worn-out sofa and his eyes ran over you for a second, as if checking for injuries. “How was the snakepit?” he asked, and though it was humorous, his voice held an underlying tension.
“Anyone bite you?” asked Ginny from behind the shitty romance book she was currently hate-reading, a teasing tone evident in her voice. Out of all of them, Ginny was probably the most chill about your ties to the Slytherins, as she herself didn’t give much of a shit about house rivalries. “Anyone you’d want to bite you?” she added, making you huff out a small laugh under your breath.
“I am unharmed, thank you,” you said, a bit curtly at the condescending tone of Ron’s question. Just as it was with your Slytherin friends, you’d always defend your ties to the other group when they talked shit about each other- in the full knowledge that it would never change anything, and they would just keep hating each other.
When Mattheo had suggested you shouldn't waste your breath trying to stand up for your friends when their hostility ran too deep to ever be dismantled, you had asked if he’d say that about you defending him in front of your friends too. Thinking back to his taken-aback expression, you had to suppress a smile. Mattheo had never again tried to convince you not to stick up for your friends, but when you'd slept over at his dorm a few nights later, he’d asked you if you had been serious about defending him to your friends. He hadn’t looked at you, but you had heard the vulnerability in every gruff grumble of his tone.
Hermoine’s matter of fact voice drew your attention back to the situation at hand. “Did he finally ask you?” she inquired, scratching a loudly purring crokshanks behind the ear.
You knew what she was talking about, of course, and averted your eyes. Concealing your disappointment, you pretended to be interested in Harry's and Ron's game, where Ron now checkmated Harry, making him groan loudly. “No,” you answered in your best impression of indifference.
Harry, who had not been paying attention to the conversation due to his humiliating defeat, finally admitted his loss and turned his attention to the couch. “y/n?” he addressed you, chiming in, and you raised your brows at him inquiringly. Wringing his hands, he seemed a little embarrassed. “So… remember when I asked you about being my date for the Yule Ball?”
“Vividly,” you answered, nodding.
In fact, you did. In this very same common room, at about one in the morning, he’d called back to you when you’d made your way back up the stairs to the girl's dormitories. Due to procrastinating your homework of the last week, you had been staying up to complete several essays, with only him as your company. Being the Quidditch team captain and assigned the duties coming along with the position, he’d been behind his course work as well until the last embers of the fire had burned down. In the total darkness, he’d asked you to come with him to the yule ball- as a friend, of course. But you had declined the offer, still foolishly hoping that Mattheo might put his money where his mouth was and ask you out instead.
Harry rubbed his neck, sounding just as embarrassed as that night. “Yeah, well, I still kind of don’t really have a date yet ...”
General laughter took over the group at his red-faced confession. Next to you, Ginny giggled, shifting her concentration back onto her book, as Hermoine shook her head with a little smile. “Absolutely pathetic, mate,” commented Ron, collecting the chess figures and board to store them back in one of the shelves beside the fireplace.
“Hey,” said Harry indignantly, raising his brows at him, “you had to get asked by Hermoine because you didn’t have the balls to ask her herself!” More laughter followed his words and you clutched your sides, glancing over at Hermoine who was chuckling to herself as her eyes skimmed the parchment for any errors she might have missed. “He does have a point," she smiled.
Ron groaned at her, as if she had just delivered a brutal stab to his back, and let himself fall back onto the carpet as the laughter subsided. When he was done grinning at Ron’s humiliation, Harry turned back to you in a business-like manner. “Alright, I’ll be asking you one last time before i accept my fate as the sad, date-less guy for the night.”
His words reminded you that you, too, were among the last people to not have a date for the night, probably in the entire school. Pretty much all of your friends already had partners, and really, it wasn’t only true that you were Harry’s last resort, he was also yours, since Mattheo didn’t seem remotely interested in the idea of taking you out for the ball.
“And that would be different from the usual how?” Ginny asked with raised brows, still not looking up from her book.
“You’re not helping, Ginny,” Harry deadpanned at her before turning back to you, a pleading look in his eyes. “Look. You don’t have a date. I don’t have a date. And, speaking for myself here, if I don’t find one, McGonnagall might force me to take Mrs. Norris out of pity.”
The thought made you break out into a fit of giggles, picturing Harry dancing with the caretaker’s grumpy cat. Ron, who seemed to feel a similar way, grinned. “Now that’s a mental image I didn’t need.”
“Mrs. Norris in a tiny gown…,” said Ginny dreamily, turning a page in her book and making Harry roll his eyes at his friends’ antics.
Feigneing support, you patted his shoulder and offered empathetic, constructive advice. “Why not take Filch himself while you’re at it? I’m sure he’s a great dancer.”
Harry rubbed at his temples and shook his head at the round of laughter that followed your words. “Okay, so, moving on-,” he turned his gaze back to you, serious once more. “You are my best option.”
“Flattering, Harry,” you joked, “And they say chivalry is dead.” Smiling, you averted your eyes to think properly and instead focused them upon crookshanks who was striding towards you on the couch. You started to pet him, earning a mechanical sort of purr from the old cat, as you contemplated the situation.
“Listen,” said Harry, dragging himself on the carpet in your direction. “It’s a good pitch. We’ll go as friends, no pressure, no drama, no expectations- just two people avoiding being total losers together.”
Crookshanks began purring with more enthusiasm as you scratched him behind the ears, hesitating. “I mean… I guess?” It wasn’t like he didn’t have a point. Turning up alone would be less than favorable, especially since all your friends had dates for the night, except Harry. Honestly, you’d probably spend most of the night with him anyway, due to that fact. Might as well make it official.
The scratching of Hermpoine’s quill next to you had stopped as she looked at you over the rim of her parchment. “You guess?” she asked, eyes narrowed. You shrugged, instead of relaying the lengthy explanation for your hesitation. In spite of what Pansy constantly tried to convince you off, you were quite sure by now that Mattheo wasn’t going to ask you- which was fine. Really. It was absolutely fine with you. Except for the part where it wasn’t at all.
Maybe it was because Pansy had gotten your hopes up about this. Any time you had expressed your doubts about your friendship with Mattheo to her, she’d roll her eyes at you and tell you all sorts of things: how he’d been responsible for McLaggen’s unlucky incident that sent him to St Mungos after he had stood you up, how he would look at you with, as she put it, ‘a disgustingly lovesick stare’, how he would always find ways to bring you up in conversation when you weren’t around, his mind floating back to you regardless of the context, either stating or guessing what your opinion might be on the matter.
‘Honestly,’ she’d say, ‘That boy is so in love with you it’s embarrassing to sit next to. Like, truly appalling. And even worse to sit by while he always cops out of asking you out officially.’
But either way, whether what she was saying was true or a misguided guess, or a kind lie, you were quite sure he wouldn’t be making a move before Christmas. Did you really want to turn up without a date and watch him spend the night with some other girl dangling from his arm? He had enough of them at his disposal, in spite of his parentage or reputation. And, really, if he was doing these things in spite of your blatant signaling, in spite of being so weirdly territorial over you, you might as well go out with a guy that would tickle his nerves. See how he felt about that. As his arch-nemesis, Harry would certainly be ideal in that regard.
“You wanted Riddle to ask you, didn't you?” Hermoine’s voice pulled you out of your thoughts, her gaze knowing as it rested on you.
You felt caught and sat up a little straighter. “...no.” Curse your denial to come out so hesitantly. But really, she was right. There had been nothing you had been more excited for than the possibility of going out with your best friend, back when the yule ball had been announced. And now, this.
Ron pointed an accusatory finger at you, frowning. “That was the least convincing no I’ve ever heard.”
Meanwhile, Ginny was giggling away at your side. “You so did,” she called your bluff and patted your leg in false pity.
With a long, desperate groan, you buried your face in your hands. “Ugh, shut up, please!”
But Ginny, still laughing, only marked her page with a bookmark and threw it aside onto a nearby table to turn her whole attention to you. “Merlin, this is so much better than my book!”
To quell all of their teasing at once - you could see Ron opening his mouth to add to your embarrassment and even Hermoine seemed to have something to say as she put away her parchment - you lifted your head from the palms of your hands and raised them to bring about silence. However, only your next words could get their attention. “Alright, alright, sure!” you called, face burning, “I’ll go with you, Harry.”
Whistling loudly, Ron earned himself a stern glare from Hermoine. When she had silenced his appreciative teasing, she turned to you, slightly frowning now. Meanwhile, Harry fisted the air, a relieved smile spreading across his face. “You won’t regret it, I promise. I’ll be the best fake date you’ve ever had.”
These words did manage to make your lips twitch into a small smile. “That is not a very high bar, Harry.”
Still frowning worriedly, Hermoine, ever the voice of reason, leaned towards you and placed a hand on your leg. “You don’t have to say yes just because Harry is desperate, you know that, right?”
“Wow, thanks, Hermoine,” said Harry sarcastically from the side, but she ignored him. Hoping to calm her worries, you smiled at her.
If you were being truthful, you would admit that this wasn’t a purely altruistic move on your part. Actually, you were hoping for some benefit to come out of this arrangement for you, as well. Maybe you could finally figure out if Mattheo felt anything more for you than friendship, if you forced his hand by going with his biggest rival. But you would rather have Harry and the others think you were just doing your friend a favor, a far more noble motivation than these darker intentions.
But Ginny seemed to see right through you. “Oh, come on. We all know you’re just saying yes to make Riddle jealous,” she blatantly called you out, earning herself a round of chuckles as the blood rushed to your face.
“That’s not-” you lied, a blushing and embarrassed mess and probably very obvious. You had never been that good at lying, and at least Mattheo said that he appreciated it, being surrounded with a group of friends who were just as good at lying as seeing through the lies of others. That he felt less like he had to watch his every step with you. He liked your openness, and he found your blushing adorable, always pinching your cheeks when you did and only worsening your situation most of the time.
Ginny curled with laughter at your feeble attempts to hide your true attention. “It totally is, who are you trying to convince here?” she asked, amusedly and you breathed a long sigh. Why did all this have to be so complicated? Feelings and people and dances.
But at least Harry seemed to take mercy on you, which was the least he could do after you’d given into his desperate pleas. “Alright, it’s settled then,” he sounded over Ginny’s laughter, giving you a trusted smile, “You and me- two best mates, going to the ball together. No weirdness.”
“No weirdness,” you repeated, quite thankful.
But Ginny quirked a teasing brow at you. “Except for when Riddle inevitably loses his mind over it." The idea ignited a spark of hope in you that you immediately felt bad for. Of course you didn’t want to make Harry a pawn in your game- but it may have been a sacrifice you were willing to make. However, you certainly didn’t want to put him at risk of spending time in the hospital wing or anything. Which was not that far-fetched of a worry.
“Not my problem,” shrugged Harry at Ginny’s words and you bit down on your lip. “It might be.”
Your words had been but a quiet mutter, but Ginny picked up on them and grinned at you with an expression that eerily reminded you of Pansy at the prospect of some juicy new drama. “On a scale of one to absolute insanity, how bad do you think he’s gonna take it?”
Sighing deeply and wringing your hands in your lap, you gave her a sheepish look, trying not to glance at Harry when you said, “I’m hoping for mild irritation.”
Ginny’s eyebrows shot up until they almost reached her hairline. Harry, too, seemed quite skeptical, as he leaned against the couch and frowned up at you. “And expecting?”
A small smile tugged at your lips, but you weren’t in a mood for joking. “...Something between homicide and setting the entire venue on fire,” you replied, hesitantly but probably as a more realistic estimation of the prospects. Regardless of whether or not Mattheo liked you, he surely didn’t take kindly to any boy getting, in his opinion, too close to you-especially not the Chosen One, whom he’d been pitted against since the first time he’d set foot on the doorstep of the castle.
“So, about a nine?” asked Ron, chuckling, and making the rest of you laugh again. It resoilved some of the tension that had been lingering in the air, the knowledge of a looming confrontation. Leaning over to you with faux secrecy, Ron said, “Just don’t come crying to us when he inevitably drags you into some dark corridor for a dramatic argument.”
“She’s hoping for that,” smirked Ginny, rolling her eyes- if at you or at her brother, you weren’t sure. Honestly, both of you deserved it.
Suddenly, Harry stood up from the carpet and straightened out his shirt, grinning dowm at you. Again, he had a business-like air about him. “Alright, if we’re doing this. we’re doing it properly.”
“What do you mean?” you asked, chuckling at his sudden enthusiasm.
Harry tipped an imaginary hat. “If i have to face the wrath of Mattheo Riddle, I at least want to look good while doing it” All of you chuckled at his determination and Ginny whistled. “Now, that’s the spirit.”
The first day of the holidays brought the first proper snow of the winter. Overnight, the snowflakes had danced quietly onto the earth and had turned the castle grounds into a fairytale landscape. The dark forest was no longer a black but a white mass, somehow less threatening and more inviting. But who would have felt the desire to disappear into the trees when the castle was buzzing with warmth and christmas joy?
The excitement for the yule ball especially was apparent everywhere, as students stood in the courtyard, huddled together in groups against the cold, and discussed dress robes and hairstyles for the next day's evening. A blanket of snow lay thick upon the stone gargoyles as you passed them, trotting behind Harry and Ron with Hermoine by your side. Your crunching steps left footprints in the white, glistening layer as you listened to Harry and Ron how much cake they would need for the afterparty in the common room.
Reaching the protection of the castle wall, you stood together, shielded against the sharp winter winds, as Ron started to change the topic to the amounts of firewhiskey they could smuggle in. “The thing is,” he said with a fervor you could rarely spot with him in class-related situations. “The Slytherins have the best connections to the hogshead, so we had a bit of trouble even finding someone who would give us hard liquor. We tried pretending to be McGonnagall to trick Madam Rosmerta into sending some up to the castle, but I don’t think it worked because she didn’t answer our owl.”
“Have you considered to pass yourself off as a teacher a bit more… relaxed than Professor McGonnagall?,” you suggested, looking from Harry to Ron with an amused expression.
“She’s the only professor who’s writing I could mimic,” said Harry, shrugging. “You have connections in Slytherin, right? Maybe you could get us some firewhiskey.” Hermoine murmured something like a reasonable objection into her scarf, but there was a lenient glinting in her eyes when she looked at Ron, who suddenly seemed hopeful at the idea. For once, not overly critical of your other friendships.
“Nah,” you said, deriving a certain satisfaction from seeing their hopeful expressions crumble. “Get your own connections. I’m not catching shit from McGonnagall for being responsible for your alcoholism.”
“Says the one with the nicotine addicted whatever he is to you,” said Hermoine, arms crossed tightly over her chest for warmth, with a smile and you huffed out an amused chuckle, your breath swirling in transcendent forms in the air before mingling with theirs and fading.
“But you bring up a good point,” said Harry, “The real question is: how would we even get all of it past McGonnagall and up to Gryffindor tower? I mean, we could use the invisibility cloak, but-”
Abruptly, he fell silent, and just the split of a second later did you realize the reason why, when the familiar smell of cigarettes and leather alerted you, with pin-point accuracy, who the culprit of Harry’s sudden discontinuation was. A shadow loomed over the four of you, huddled into your corner, and the easy atmosphere shattered like glass. You did not need him to speak to know who it was.
“Mind if I steal her for a moment?”
Mattheo’s voice was low, edged with amusement, but laced with something else as well, something unreadable. Ron and Hermoine whipped around, sharply, at the sound of his voice, Ron stepping in front of her slightly, as if on instinct. However, you turned only reluctantly, already aware who you’d find standing there, but not knowing whether you were keen on talking to him and revealing the inevitable bomb that might set him off.
Mattheo was leaning against the castle wall, mere feet from you. His dark eyes flickered over your friends with a lazy kind of scrutiny, lips twitching when he caught the way Hermoine’s posture stiffened and Ron’s expression darkened. His gaze lingered on Harry for half a second longer than necessary. Harry straightened slightly, shoulders squaring, and shifted as if to protest, but before he could speak, Mattheo cut him off with an easy smirk and a tilt of his head. “Relax, Potter, I won’t bite.” His gaze flickered back to you, locking onto yours as his smirk shifted into something more… deliberate. “Unless you ask nicely.”
He extended a hand- not touching you, just gesturing you forward, but the implication was clear. The moment seemed to stretch, a thick tension settling in the chilly air, before you stepped away from the wall, brushing a bit of snow off your sleeve. Behind you, Hermoine let out a barely audible sound of disapproval, Ron muttered something, in all likelihood, rude under his breath and Harry shifted slightly in your field of vision, as if he wanted to step in. But you threw them a pleading look not to make a thing out of it and walked over to Mattheo’s side, raising your brows at him in silent inquiry.
His eyes studied your expression, before he wrapped an arm around your shoulders and led you away. With a last little smile to your friends, you told them goodbye and walked away with him, not registering the slow, smug glance Mattheo gave them over his shoulder as he turned with you towards the entrance.
But the castle didn’t seem to be his desired destination. Instead, he led you down the flight of stairs connecting the courtyard and the greenhouses, all the while silent. You stocked it up to his bad mood. In truth, it was nervosity.
Mattheo had been rolling it around in his head all night, ever since he’d watched you leave the common room last night, Theo's dark suggestion still ringing in his ears, the cursed images of you with Potter, of all people, still haunting him. He’d already given Pucey his piece of mind about him considering to ask you out, but he knew you would mind - a lot - if he had a go at Harry that was so clearly provocated by himself. Knowing you wouldn’t forgive him too easily if he rearranged Potter’s face just a few days before christmas, and considering the massive truthbomb that was the fact that he, in actuality, held no claim over you. Yet.
Finally, after staring at the ceiling stubbornly for a good few hours, making his way through what was left of his last pack of cigarettes and not getting a minute of sleep, he’d finally not only worked up the courage, but also the words to finally, finally ask. But now, as he led you down the icy stairs, vigilant you wouldn’t trip, both the nerve and the ability to articulate himself seemed to have left him. Maybe he should have gotten some sleep before this after all. Or consumed anything other than black coffee and nicotine before approaching you to ask you- possibly the only question that really mattered.
When you reached the greenhouses, he leaned against one of the glass walls, fogged up against the cold, hands buried in his coat pockets. Feeling nervous, you moved to stand on the bit of snow-covered grass in front of him, sneaking glances up at him, his furrowed brows, his clenched jaw. “So,” he said slowly, as if weighing every word, “About the ball.”
“Oh,” you made, swallowing. With a nervous little nod, you wrung your frost-bitten hands and looked up into his brown eyes, so beautiful against the cold white sky. They were surprisingly calm, given the news you thought would enrage him. Maybe it didn’t matter to him after all. “So you heard, then?”
But Mattheo tilted his head, incredulously. “Heard what, exactly?” Oh shit. Perplexedly, you blinked up at him, having assumed he would have heard by now through Enzo’s miraculous grapevines, and that that was the reason he had wanted a chat. “...that I’m going with Harry.”
Mattheo stilled, expression faltering for just a second before his jaw clenched- tight. His eyes, usually gleanming with lazy humour, darkened as they locked onto yours, the look in them almost making you take a step back before you could get your instincts back under control. “Potter?” he said, his voice deceptively calm, but you could see the way his fingers flexed, as if suppressing a sudden urge to clench them into fists. His tongue ran over his teeth, exhaling sharply through his nose like he was trying to reel himself in.
Mattheo felt the words hit im like a slap, over and over again. That I’m going with Harry. I’m going with Harry. I’m going with Harry. They twisted something inside him, and it hurt, though he’d rather die than let it show. Potter. Out of all the people in this godforsaken castle, it had to be him. His jaw was locked as he forced himself to keep his expression neutral, but he could feel the tightness in his chest, the way his fingers flexed and twitched with the urge to grab you- to shake some sense into you.
You tilted your head and looked up at him with those nervous, pretty eyes of yours, an unsure, hesitant smile playing around your lips. “What other Harrys could I possibly be referring to?” you asked, in a feeble attempt to bring some humour into the situation, light up his face that was grim and tight, as if in shadow.
Mattheo wanted to laugh, to show you how utterly unaffected he was by this news, and at the same time, he burned to throw out some sharp, cutting remark about how predictable it was, how you must have lost your damn mind. But the words felt heavy in his throat. Because it was a perfectly sane decision. Going out with Potter was probably way more sensible than going out with him.
Instead, he leaned back slightly, rolling his shoulders as if the news didn't settle like lead in his stomach. “Didn’t know you were into charity work now,” he drawled, voice deceptively smooth, but there was a cutting edge to it, a sharpness that wasn’t usually there- or rather, was usually directed at everyone but you.
“You’re really going with that bastard?” he asked, rocking slightly on the balls of his feet. Not even looking into your eyes could calm the storm raging inside him now, as it spread through every fibre of his body, balled in his chest, reached the tips of his fingers as they almost shook with suppressed rage. Now, they were just a reminder of what he couldn’t have.
Of course you’d go with Potter, why would you have even considered him? When people were already whispering behind your back about you and your friendship with him, calling you names and giving you looks, calling you a house traitor and shallow or two-faced, the irony not even occurring to them. But Merlin, how he hated, how he detested, how he loathed that Harry was, sensibly, a better option for you than he would ever be.
He let out a slow breath through his nose, shaking his head slightly, tongue pressing against the inside of his cheek. He shouldn't even care. Since when had he let people get to him like this? But you weren't just anyone. You were you. You were his. And then again, you weren’t. And he shouldn’t be feeling this burning frustration curling in his chest, shouldn’t feel the itch in his fingers to grab your wrist and tell you to drop the whole fucking thing. But he did. And that pissed him off even more.
“He asked me as a friend,” you said, feeling the need to clarify. Why you had thought it would calm the storm raging in his eyes, you didn’t know, as a dry, sarcastic laugh fell from his lips, missing his usual casual teasing tone. “Oh, of course. Just friends.”
Your clueless frown only fueled his anger and he clicked his tongue impatient at you, taking some sick enjoyment in the way his glare made you recoil slightly. “Never taken you as naive before, sweetheart.” When he usually whispered the nickname, it was a flirty drawl, and accompanied by a teasing smirk, or just a casual, rare smile. Now, he spat it out, barely containing his frustration. But he wasn’t the only one irked by the other.
“Mattheo, I adore you,” you said firmly, frowning up at him, “But just because you’ve got a hidden motive behind everything doesn’t mean he has.” Trying to think of the right words, you bit down on your lower lip. “He just…”
“...didn’t find anyone as nice as you to take pity on him?” Mattheo finished your sentence, his brows raised with dry humor. You could tell he was trying to push your buttons now, deflecting from his own emotions by trying to get yours up, in an attempt to get the upper hand. Because with him, everything had to be a fight, a struggle, a confrontation.
Refusing to let him get to you, you crossed your arms over your chest and looked at him coolly. “Maybe I said yes because he actually asked me.”
Unexpectedly, his detached demeanor seemed to crack for just a second. Something shifted in his expression, flickering -or falling- before he got his features back under control. “Huh,” he made, and you were treated to the rare sight of Mattheo Riddle running out of words. His lips twitched grimly, brows furrowed.
Trying to stop him thinking of some sarcastic, meticulous provocation, you took a step towards him, your breath puffing in the air. “Yeah. Huh.”
Finally, an ironic smile forced itself upon his face, it almost seemed to pain him, as the way his nails dug into his palms had to. “So, you’re gonna spend the whole night batting your eyelashes at Mr. Gryffindor Golden Boy then?”
“Why do you care?” you asked quickly, trying to catch him off guard. Your eyes zeroed in on every twitch of his expression, looking for tell-tale signs- as he surely was, too. Was it platonic protectiveness and his disdain for his rival, Harry, or could it be jealousy? His eyes met yours, fiercely, his intense stare piercing you, and though your heart skipped a beat, you held his gaze, determined not to back down.
Mattheo leaned in slightly, getting close to your face with a mocking smile dancing around his lips. “I don’t,” he said with biting sarcasm. “I wish you the best of times with Potter.”
Scoffing, you averted your eyes. His proximity was suffocating, it was confusing, a round of sparks dancing in the pit of your stomach, so unlike the butterflies people always talked about. No, your love for him was explosive, it was brimming with glimmering tension, threatening to turn into a wildwire, expanding until it consumed you whole. And you’d burn gladly as long as you burned in his hold. “No, you don’t” you contered, looking back up to find him looking at you with such hunger in his brown eyes.
Mattheo grinned grimly, clicking his tongue in a way that could have drove you into a craze. “You’re right. Hope you trip in those ridiculous heels Pansy will make you wear.”
Pretending to be annoyed, you huffed out a long breath, caught somewhere in between amusement and exasperation. “You have no right to be mad, Mattheo.”
For a moment, the only sound between you was the distant howl of the wind in the courtyard archways above, the faint echo of laughter carried down to the greenhouses by the breeze as the truth of your words hung in the tense air between you. Mattheo was watching you, his jaw tight, his lips curved into that infuriating smirk that didn’t quite reach his eyes. You could see it- how his amusement was forced, how something far more volatile simmered beneath the surface. His words from a second ago still hung between you, sharp-edged and taunting. “Who says I’m mad?”
Without thinking, you reached up, fingers curling around his jaw, your palm warm against the biting cold of his skin. His breath hitched- so soft, so fleeting you almost missed it- but his entire body went rigid, as if the contact had struck him like a spell. His dark eyes, always so unreadable, widened just slightly, caught between surprise and something else. You tilted his chin up just enough to meet his gaze fully, your thumb brushing over the sharp edge of his jaw, and then, with a voice quiet but unwavering, you murmured, “Your face.”
With a whiplash-inducing speed, his demeanor changed, his smirk turning seductive as he leaned into your touch, a disarming glint in his chocolate brown eyes. “And you’d no all about that, wouldn’t you, sweetheart?”
It was unfair. He knew exactly how to tickle your nerves, and just when you’d thought you’d won the struggle for the upper hand, he flipped a card like this, completely taking you aback. The heat of your stomach seemed to rush into your cheeks and you glared at him, at the knowing look in his eyes. There was a reason he was in Slytherin. But there was also a reason you were in Gryffindor.
“I'll see you tomorrow at the ball,” you scoffed, frustrated, let go of his face and took a step back. You knew looking at him might make you turn back to either kiss or slap him, so you turned around sharply and stormed up the stairs back to the courtyard. He didn't follow you, but you could feel the burning piercing of his stare resting on your back.
Pansy’s dorm was alive with the flicker of enchanted candlelight, the air thick with the mingling scents of your perfumes, hairspray and the faintest trace of Pansy’s expensive vanilla-sandalwood lotion. You stood before her full-length mirror, smoothing your hands over the flowing green fabric of your dress as Pansy, perched on the edge of the bed, tilted her head in assessment. “Honey, you look absolutely gorgeous,” she concluded, rising from the bed to walk over to you and arrange the dress in areas.
Her's was already wrapped around her figure, complementing her curves. You tugged at the neckline of yours, unsure of how much cleavage you were showing. In the shop, it had somehow seemed less risque, though it had still been more than you would usually be comfortable with. “Are you sure?”
Halting her prodding movements and tugs, Pansy straightened up and rested her head on your shoulder, smirking at you through the mirror with a mischievous gleam in her eyes. “Am I sure you look gorgeous or that Mattheo will like it?”
The blush that shot up into your cheeks would have made any rouge unnecessary. “Pansy!” you hissed, glaring at her, but she only laughed and lifted her head from your shoulder to turn you away from the mirror and to her, for further inspection.
“Don’t worry,” she said, for once with a sincere look on her face and a warm smile gracing her lips. “He will fall in love with you all over again and beat Potter to death before he can even get a hand onto your waist.” Her eyes glinted. “At least after I’m done with your hair.”
In spite of her reassuring words, you let your critical eyes wander over your figure in the mirror as Pansy sat you down on a chair. Her fingers carded into your hair, brushing it out and parting it into sections as she got to work on pinning it up in elegant ways. Brows furrowed in concentration, her fingers worked as if she’d done it a million times before. You scanned her frowning face in the mirror's reflection, rolling her words over in your mind. Pansy was one of your best friends, she wouldn’t lie to you, but-
“Pans?” you asked into the quiet, making her hum in response and raise her brows at you. You opened your mouth, lips parted to beg for further reassurance- but you closed them again, swallowing. It wasn’t like they would convince you, not after having heard her constant encourages for months and never truly having believed them. Or had you? Was it the reason you were so disappointed about Mattheo not asking you out, like you felt you could expect it of him after all Pansy had told you? “Thanks,” you finally said.
Your defeated tone seemed to catch her attention as her eyes snapped up to meet yours in the mirror’s reflection. She frowned. “You know, for someone who’s got a date tonight, you don’t look very excited.”
“I am excited,” you lied, giving her a tense little smile she saw right through.
With raised brows, she got back to putting your hair up with a mix of barrettes, hairspray, and magic. “Mhm, try saying that again without sounding like you’re in mourning.” With a promising little smile, she nudged your shoulder. “I promise you the evening will still get rather exciting for you, even if Potter’s a bore.”
You sighed, unable to hold onto the words any longer as your hands clasped in your lap. “You always try to convince me that he likes me,” you said, without saying the name you were trying to avoid, because it was such a sinful pleasure to let it flow off your tongue, like a kid mumbling a curse word under the protection of its blanket, just to try out the sound of it. A forbidden sound, the promise of freedom. Why was it so hard to say his name, after you’d said it so many times these past few months? In scolding tones, in warning tones, in teasing tones, in affectionate tones. Most of the times, it was the latter- most of the time, he returned your name in the same way.
As you thought of the right way to express the confusion you felt over his actions, Pansy waited, sielntly, and delivered the last, finishing touches to your hair. “If he likes me, why didn’t he ask me?” you finally asked, simple enough.
The question made her sigh and roll her eyes as her perfectly manicured hands clasped down on your thinly clad shoulders. “Because he’s an idiot and a coward. Just like you. Don’t tell him I said that.” You returned her encouraging smile, though still feeling rather pessimistic. Pansy patted your shoulder. “Honestly, since when has Mattheo known to handle his feelings?”
“Fair point,” you sighed, as she released you and walked over to her desk, to her other mirror, displaying her makeup on the surface. As she started to put hers on, you opened your bag as well and got out what you needed, making sure to get none on your dress. For a few minutes, you worked in silent concentration, the quiet only broken by laughter and shouts from the Slytherin common room.
Because she’d insisted on helping you with your hair, you’d agreed to get ready with Pansy in her dorm on the big evening. You had been here for an hour, chatting, trying on each other’s dresses, flipping through magazines for hair and makeup inspiration. Now, it was only an hour until the start of the ball, and the excitement that brimmed in the whole castle even reached the Slytherin dorms in the dungeons. When you’d hurried through it with Pansy, the common room had been devoid of its usual calm and had rather reminded you of the Gryffindor common room on a rowdy saturday, with students mingling and mixing, chatting in excited voices, their anticipation barely contained behind their Slytherin coolness.
Pansy’s voice cut through your meandering thoughts, snapping you back to reality as you started to apply mascara. “When did you tell him, anyway? That you’re going with Potter?”
“Yesterday,” you answered, leaning forward to examine your work in detail. “Why?”
Even through her distant reflection in the mirror, you could distinctly make out her sudden smirk, pulling at her now full and red looking lips. “Oh, nothing,” she warbled innocently, though she looked as if she’d just unraveled a particularly thrilling christmas present. Her glinting eyes locking on your expression as she closed the lid on her lipstick was like a mouse trap snapping shut. “Just… Have I mentioned Mattheo has been a complete nightmare since yesterday?”
You paused mid lipgloss application to meet her eyes through the mirror, her words sinking in and coiling in the pit of your stomach. “...What?” you asked, trying not to sound too eager for her to expand on these seductive words.
Pansy grinned, turning to her mirror to deliver some last finishing touches to her face. “Oh, darling. He’s livid.”
“Why would he be livid?” you asked, frowning, getting back to your lipgloss. “It’s not like he cares.”
Pansy’s mock gasp told you she was not at all convinced by your reasoning- nor fooled by the false indifference in your voice. But she gave into your silent need for answers anyway, a knowing smile on her lips. “Oh, sure, that’s why he nearly hexed Enzo for breathing too loudly this morning.” She corrected the blend of her eyeshadow, enjoying the effect her words had on you. “Honestly, I should be mad at you for causing such an unbearable mood in our common room, but it’s just too entertaining.”
“I didn’t cause anything,” you deflected grumpily, glaring at your own reflection as if it were him, trying to convince yourself, trying not to let Pansy get your hopes up again and, at the same time, yearning for something to grasp onto. “Whatever’s got to him, I’m sure it’s got nothing to do with me.”
Making an unconvinced sound, Pans angled her face differently to admire it in different lighting. “Tell that to the poor first-year who had a nervous breakdown yesterday when Mattheo snapped at him for existing.”
“What?” you snapped sharply, frown deepening. Unfazed, Pansy rose from her seat and walked over to you, swaying her hips as she met your eyes in the mirror. You sighed at the grin on her face, getting back to applying your makeup. “He can be mad all he wants, it doesn’t change the facts.” Right. It changed nothing. You shouldn’t even care.
Pansy raised her perfectly lined brows at your attempts to seem indifferent. “Then why are you applying your lipgloss for the third time?” Before you could answer, she grabbed the lipgloss out of your hands, closed it and threw it back into your back. With a pull that left no room for protest, she tugged you up and towards the door. “You look fantastic. Come on, let’s get you out and about so you can meet your Chosen One up at Gryffindor tower.”
As you walked down the steps and stepped into the common room, your heart began to thrum in your chest at the realization that he’d probably be there. That he’d see you. In this dress. For a moment, you wished you’d gotten one with a more modest neckline, but then again, you burned to see his reaction.
It was as if you already felt it on the bottom step, as Pansy urged you into the common room. His presence, and then, the weight of his stare as you spotted him leaning against one of the leather couches beside Theo, dressed in, for once, unsullied dress robes. His gaze locked and you, your figure, and the tension in the air seemed thick enough to choke on.
Mattheo hadn’t even been looking, let alone waiting for you. At least that was what he told himself. But the moment the sound of heels clicking against the stone steps echoed through the common room, his body betrayed him. His fingers, lazily spinning a silver ring around his knuckle, stilled. His jaw clenched. And when he finally glanced up, just like he swore he wouldn’t, it was like taking a hit straight to the ribs.
You were stunning. Not just in the way that made his breath catch, but in the way that made his stomach twist, made something dark coil in his chest. Because you weren’t dressed for him. And yet, his first thought was that you should’ve been. His expression didn’t change, smirk perfectly in place, body draped in his usual lazy confidence- but his grip on his ring tightened, his throat felt dry, and he had to physically stop himself from shifting toward you. He knew the moment your eyes met his, you’d notice something in his stare, something raw, something dangerous. So he looked away first. Just for a second. Just long enough to breathe.
A thrill ran through you when your eyes met his, sharp and electric. He was still lounging in that infuriatingly effortless way, all cocky smirks and feigned disinterest, but you knew better. You saw it—the clench in his jaw, the way his fingers had gone stiff around that damn silver ring. The way his gaze flickered, just barely, before snapping back to you like he hadn’t meant to look away at all.
The other boys had now taken notice of your presence as well. Charming compliments rolling off his lips like the finest vinegar, Blaise made his way towards Pansy, who smirked him off and locked her arm with yours, telling him something about just having perfected her look and getting you out of here before someone choked on their own spit. But your eyes were still locked on Mattheo, as if there was a magnetic pull attracting them that rendered you unable to avert your gaze.
Only Pansy’s gentle nudges and tugging moved your feet towards the entrance wall, as if on autopilot, and only her whispered voice as she leaned in could cut through the rushing in your ears. “Alright, what’s the plan for tonight when Mattheo inevitably corners you at the ball?”
Anxious for none of the boys to overhear you, you leaned in closer, muttering, “... Ignore him?”
Pansy scoffed at your suggestion, rolling her eyes with a little smirk. Gently, she nudged your side and lifted her brows at you. “Adorable. Wrong, but adorable.”
You sighed, reaching the entrance to the common room and turning to her for a brief goodbye. You had to physically restrain yourself from looking back at Mattheo, who’s gaze you could feel burning into your skin, a silent dare to look back, walk back, to him. But you wouldn’t. “It doesn’t matter,” you tried to convince yourself more than you tried to convince Pansy. “I’m with Harry tonight. End of story.”
But Pansy seemed unimpressed by your stubborn conviction. A promising smirk graced her lips as she tilted her head towards Mattheo subtly. “Oh, honey. This story is just getting started.”
a/n: stay tuned for part b 🫶 | if anyone would like to get tagged for part b who isn't already in the general or mattheo tag list, leave a comment!
taglist: @lady-peiskos @hazeldunst @juliet-017 @furioussharkcat @onlytenkos @jannie-belaerys @blueflowerpots @whosyourgnomie @revesephemeres @longpondlibrary @aespaslut @s00ty-feet @cosplayboi18 @messageforthesmallestman @iamheretoread1234 @devilsadvcte @jolly4holly @deeplyinlovewithfluffbullshit
#slytherin boys x reader#harry potter#harry potter x reader#slytherin boys#mattheo x y/n#mattheo riddle x y/n#mattheo riddle x you#mattheo riddle imagine#mattheo x reader#mattheo smut#mattheo riddle#mattheo#mattheo riddle x reader#mattheoxreader#mattheo x you#mattheo fluff#mattheo imagine#mattheo angst#mattheo series
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do you have any new spideytorch fics in current progress? of course no worries if not but i just wanted to ask. i’m absolutely obsessed with your writing and your fics!!
Thank you!
I sort of have two things I started, but haven't made a ton of progress on. I'm a little busy between work and a big bang in a different fandom, so these have been put to the side for now, but looking at them does make me want to finish them.
Fic 1 is a Just Married installment set in the future because I thought amnesia would be a fun trope to play with in the context of that universe. Basically, Peter gets whammied, forgets he ever fake-but-for-real married Johnny, and has to work out his feelings, which is horrible for him.
Peter picked up the framed photo, tilting it towards the light. He and Johnny stood at the center, splattered in -- he hoped it was paint. There was a gaggle of kids surrounding them, including two young brunet boys. One was clinging to Johnny's legs. The other was holding a water gun to Peter's head. “Our twin boys,” Johnny said, his hand pressed to his heart. “Threaderick and Weavon.” Peter nearly dropped the photo. “I’m just messing with you,” Johnny said. “That was from the day Bentley temporarily cloned himself. Which is pretty funny because he’s already a clone.” “It’s impossible to tell if any word coming out of your mouth is serious,” Peter said. “Johnny, I need you to be serious with me. Do we – do we have kids?” “No,” Johnny said, his mouth pressed into an unhappy line. He looked away from Peter. “We don’t have kids.”
Fic 2 is not even remotely presenting itself as serious. Like less so than the spider attracting body butter fic. I don't for a single second believe Peter would let Johnny's mustache from the North run go without comment.
Peter had been accused, by various people in his life, of being a variety of less than flattering things. Neurotic. Overprotective. Mildly overbearing. (“Stalkeresque,” Betty drawled from her desk, shooting him a nasty look. “Not a word, Betts,” Peter said, and kissed her on the top of her head as he dropped off her brown sugar latte. “Parker!” Jonah shouted from his office. “Do you even work here anymore?!” “Adios!” Peter said, and beat it before Jonah could call security.) (the FF come back from idk. space or whatever. I'm not pretending this canon compliant with North's run, I just want to make mustache jokes.) “I’m warning you, Bug,” Ben said. “You’re not going to like what you see.” (what he sees is the mustache. he does not like it.) -- “I don’t get what the problem is,” Harry said, waving a lofty hand in the air. “So he wants to grow a mustache. Let him grow a mustache.” “The problem is it’s hideous,” Peter said. “It’s like looking a dead, blond weasel on his upper lip.” “You liked the mustache I had back in college,” Harry said, stroking the corners of his mouth with thumb and forefinger. He shrugged. “I guess not everyone can pull it off.” Peter decided to break it to him easy. “You know I love you, right, Har?” he said. “You’re my best friend. I’ll always be there for you.” “Aw,” Harry said. Then suspicion dawned on his face. “Wait. What are you getting at?” “I hated the mustache, Harry,” Peter said. (blah blah blah) “Gwen liked the mustache, though, right?” Harry said. “Gwen said she liked it. She said it made me look like a malfeasant.” Peter didn’t bother to ask if Harry knew what that meant. “Gwen paid MJ fifty bucks to shave it off while you were sleeping.” “Huh,” Harry said. He drummed his fingers on the tabletop. “Wow. I haven’t had the urge to get Dad’s Green Goblin gear out of storage in a long time.” “Good talk, Harry,” Peter said. -- Johnny had his waxer on speed dial and a biweekly appointment at New York’s most exclusive salon. There was no way the mustache was going to last. Peter gave it a week. A week and a half, tops. (blah blah blah) “Johnny,” Peter said, taking him by the shoulders. “Sunshine. Firefly. Light of my life.” His gaze dropped to the mustache and then back up to Johnny’s eyes. “Is this war?” “I have no idea what you mean,” Johnny said, but he reached up and twirled one end of the mustache. Sparks danced in his eyes. Peter’s jaw clenched. War it was.
I'm titling this one Mustache You a Question, obviously.
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how can you glow up: your 7h - relationships and balance within them
still following my hypothesis of how you can glow up using your venus persona? it's time to take a closer look at your 7h!
paid reading options: astrology menu & cartomancy menu
enjoy my work? help me continue creating by tipping on ko-fi or paypal. your support keeps the magic alive!
7h aries (1°, 13°, 25°), 7h mars, and/or mars aspecting 7h ruler
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setting and maintaining healthy boundaries
avoid asserting dominance: being direct is fine, but ensure your heard and understood shouldn't mean overpowering your partner’s needs.
balance independence with being a team: i know you value your freedom, but healthy relationships require mutual consideration and everyone's favorite word *compromise*.
don’t rush into commitment: often this energy can led towards being impulsive - take your time to evaluate whether any relationship you enter aligns with your long-term needs.
recognize when conflict is unnecessary: not every disagreement has to be a fight - learn to pick your battles wisely.
how to improve communication
express your desires without aggression: your passion is your strength, but delivery matters; approach every conversation with clarity, not force.
practice active listening (and patience): "aries goes first" - not necessarily... let your partner fully express themselves before you respond; avoid interrupting out of impatience.
be mindful of reactive tendencies: slow down before responding to avoid saying things in the heat of the moment that you might come to regret.
embrace vulnerability: not every conversation has to be a debate - sharing emotions openly builds deeper connections.
how to attract balanced partnerships
seek partners who match your energy but also ground you: a mix of excitement and stability creates the healthiest dynamic.
avoid overly passive partners: you need someone who can keep up with you, not someone who lets you full on take control of every situation.
seek relationships built on mutual passion and respect: you thrive in partnerships where both people are equally invested and independent.
be open to different love styles: just because someone expresses love differently than you do doesn’t mean they are less devoted.
how to become more confident in relationships
own your assertiveness: you know what you want, and that’s powerful - your confidence will come when you embrace this without fearing this power will ruin your relationships (that being said balance assertiveness with control (don't succumb to being overly controlling within your relationships)).
let go of the need to prove yourself: you don’t need to be “the best” in/at relationships; love isn’t a competition.
trust that the right person won’t see your fire as “too much”: your intensity will be attractive when matched with the right person.
learn to identify what you deserve
relationships where you feel free yet supported: you need both your autonomy and a deep connection.
a partner who values your drive, not one who competes with you or tries to put you down: someone who encourages your ambitions rather than challenges your authority.
excitement without unnecessary chaos/fights/argument: love can be passionate and spontaneous without being dramatic or unstable.
a partner who respects your strength but also sees your softer side and knows when to support you: emotional security is just as important as adventure.
7h gemini (3°, 15°, 27°), 7h mercury, and/or mercury aspecting 7h ruler
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setting and maintaining healthy boundaries
avoid superficial connections: it’s likely very easy for you to keep things light, but deeper emotions/conversations are necessary for real intimacy.
balance social time with personal time: you thrive on interaction, but ensure you’re not overextending yourself in relationships.
set limits: make sure both you and your partner respect each other.
be clear about your expectations: ambiguity can lead to misunderstandings, so express your needs openly and directly.
how to improve communication
be mindful of overanalyzing: not every conversation needs to be dissected.
avoid deflecting with humor or distraction: playfulness is one thing, but true communication requires depth and honesty. so focus and try to read the room.
practice active listening: immerse yourself fully instead of thinking about your response.
express your emotions clearly: love isn’t just about words - allow yourself to feel your emotions, not just explain them.
how to attract balanced partnerships
look for partners who stimulate your mind but ground you: lntellectual chemistry is key for you, but emotional security is equally important.
avoid partners who are too rigid or overly possessive: you need freedom given this airy influence to explore ideas and connections without feeling confined.
choose relationships that allow for variety and spontaneity: routine-driven partner may not suit you long term.
look for someone who communicates: these people's relationships thrive when both partners are curious, expressive, and engaged.
how to become more confident in relationships
own your adaptability: your ability to see different perspectives makes you a dynamic and engaging partner - you are anything but boring. know that.
trust that depth doesn’t mean loss of autonomy: real intimacy can exist alongside independence and exploration. just because you feel locked in doesn't mean you aren't your own person.
commitment doesn’t equal monotony: long-term relationships can still be exciting and full of surprises especially if you are with the right person.
learn to identify what you deserve
communication and mental connection: deep conversations and shared curiosity keep your love alive - there is nothing wrong with that.
freedom to explore: you deserve space to express yourself without feeling boxed in.
someone who understands and embraces your duality: you deserve a partner who appreciates both your playful and serious sides.
7h cancer (4°, 16°, 28°), 7h moon, and/or moon aspecting 7h ruler
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setting and maintaining healthy boundaries
recognize emotional enmeshment: your relationships may feel deeply personal, but ensure you’re not absorbing your partner’s emotions as your own.
avoid mood-based decisions: your emotional status influences how you approach relationships, so take time/space before making major commitments.
separate past wounds from present situations: your attachment style will be shaped by past experiences, so aim to heal (or learn coping techniques for) any unresolved emotional patterns prior to relationships if possible.
how to improve communication
express emotions without fear: emotions are strength; don’t suppress them to "keep the peace".
avoid passive-aggressive tendencies: if something bothers you, say so instead of expecting your partner to guess at your feelings.
communicate beyond emotions: all feelings are valid, however, logical discussions are also necessary for resolving conflicts effectively.
recognize emotional triggers: be mindful of how past wounds and insecurities influence your reactions. make your partner aware of these potential triggers.
how to attract balanced partnerships
seek emotionally mature partners: you need someone who understands deep emotional connections and at the same time doesn’t rely on you for all their emotional needs.
look for nurturing but independent partners: a healthy relationship supports emotional depth while allowing for both partners to maintain their own identities.
how to become more confident in relationships
trust your intuition: your emotional intelligence helps you read people well - don’t second-guess yourself. "a spade is a spade".
embrace vulnerability without fearing rejection: the right person will appreciate your emotional openness rather than see it as weakness.
learn to self-soothe rather than seeking constant reassurance: trust yourself to navigate tough emotions independently.
learn to identify what you deserve
someone who respects and values emotional depth: you need someone who embraces emotional intimacy, not someone who avoids it.
a safe space to express feelings without judgment: emotional security should be number one in your relationships.
7h aquarius (12°, 24°), 7h uranus, and/or uranus aspecting 7h ruler
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setting and maintaining healthy boundaries
allow for freedom without creating distance: you value independence, but emotional closeness is just as important.
avoid impulsive decisions: the urge to seek (or create it if you get too bored) excitement may lead to relationship instability, so take time before making major decisions.
define what “commitment” means to you: you definition may be unconventional to say the least, so ensure you and your partner are on the same page.
balance personal space with connection: too much distance can create instability in relationships, so maintain open communication at all times if you can't be in each other's space.
how to improve communication
be clear about your need for independence: your partner should understand that love for you doesn’t mean constant togetherness.
avoid being emotionally detached: deep emotional discussions are essential for intimacy - i know i know that's likely tough to swallow for logic loving aquarius.
recognize when you’re being obstinate just because: not every disagreement needs to be a challenge for authority...
how to attract balanced partnerships
seek partners who enjoy change and excitement: you need a dynamic relationship that allow room for growth and new experiences.
avoid overly controlling or possessive partners: you need both respect and autonomy - make that very clear.
look for intellectual and energetic chemistry: mental stimulation and shared passions are essential to holding your interest.
how to become more confident in relationships
own your uniqueness: your unconventional approach to relationships is a strength, not a flaw. love is changing in today's world and you are well suited to step into this new romantic era.
stability doesn’t mean boredom: you can have a committed, fulfilling relationship without sacrificing your excitement for life.
find confidence in flexibility: your adaptability allows you to thrive in various relationship dynamics without fear.
learn to identify what you deserve
someone who appreciates your unpredictability rather attempts to tame you: you deserve someone who enjoys change and spontaneity - they will complement you well.
excitement without chaos: you deserve a love that is thrilling but also emotionally secure.
mutual respect in an unconventional relationship dynamic: whether it’s non-traditional roles, unique ways of expressing love, or alternative commitments (open relationships, polyamory, long-distance, etc.), you need a partner who understands and/or is willing to try your approach.
7h ruler in 1h
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setting and maintaining healthy boundaries
avoid losing yourself in relationships: your identity can easily get deeply tied to partnerships, so make sure you maintain your individuality and fight against codependency.
set clear expectations from the start: your relationships will impact your self-image; make suee they align with your values and needs.
balance personal desires with relationship dynamics: avoid over-prioritizing your partner’s needs at the expense of your own.
how to improve communication
be direct about your needs: relationships influence your sense of self so have clear and honest communication to prevent misunderstandings.
self-reflect before reacting: your responses in relationships can be immediate and personal; take time and space to process emotions.
make sure conversations are 50/50: since you likely take the lead, make sure you are allowing space for your partner’s thoughts and perspective.
speak from personal experience, don't make assumptions: avoid projecting your thoughts and beliefs in the relationship; focus on understanding both yourself and them.
how to attract balanced partnerships
look for partners who complement you rather than define you: a good partner will enhance your identity, not "wash you out".
avoid overly dominant or passive partners: you thrive in relationships where you both stand strong.
seek someone who values your independence: a partner who respects you as an individual creates a more overall fulfilling relationship dynamic.
how to become more confident in relationships
embrace self-sufficiency: you don’t need a relationship to feel whole; your strength lies in your own identity. love with come when you aren't looking for it.
recognize that relationships reflect your personal growth: how you engage with others mirrors your self-awareness and growth.
by empowered by love, not dependent on it: partnerships should support your autonomy rather than diminish it.
learn to identify what you deserve
you should be valued and respected: you need a partnership that acknowledges and respects your individuality.
partners who inspire self-growth and confidence: relationships should encourage your personal development rather than limits it.
love is a choice, not a chore: you deserve a partnership where both you and them choose one another, not out of need but out of genuine connection.
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Second Best- Jungkook (part 10)
Summary: Being friends with someone who has your heart it’s already hard, let alone when that special someone ends up falling in love with your best friend, the one you think would never make anything to hurt you . Will you be able to ignore it and move on? what will happen when everything gets too much for you to handle?
Genre: Friends to lovers; angst; body insecurities; bullying; friend betrayel;
Pairing: Jungkook x female!reader
Warning: strong language
Wordcount: 8.5k
Author's note: I hope you guys enjoy this chapter. Give me your thoughts. I love you all !
P.S : I'm sorry for any mistakes. English is not my first language!
Y/n wasn't always insecure about herself. Early in life she was a lively, extroverted and free spirit person, but life is unfair and unpredictable. Having the trauma of seeing her father abandon her and her mother for another woman, saying she was the reason why he stopped loving and caring for her mom, left something inside her that it was never possible to mend no matter how hard she tried, making her more focused on studies and goals than boys and dating while growing up. For her, love was an illusion and she wouldn’t make the same mistake as her mother.
Thinking about it now as she heads inside the apartment she shares with Lisa, she never gave anyone an opportunity, but as soon as she saw Jungkook she was drawn to him immediately without any explanation for it. Independence was her thing and she never thought she’d be capable of feeling the way she feels about him right now. Even if that meant that her friendship with Sewoon had to end.
Looking back she knows Sewoon was never a good friend to her and she deserves better. Despite knowing their personalities were completely different from each other, Y/n accepted her anyway. After all, Sewoon had been her first friend, the first person to defend her when necessary and for that she was truly thankful for her. She also knew a little about her past and even though their priorities were different, they understood each other like that.
Sewoon wanted to live life, have fun, go out, drink. Everything a teenager is supposed to do. She lost her virginity at 16 to a boy three years older than her who she met at a party. At the time Y/n asked her how was she able to do something so intimate with someone she had only known for a short time. Her best friend replied no one cared about that anymore. Truth to be told, after that she changed. A lot. Maybe that was when they started to drift apart a little bit. Y/n didn't like this change, not when she tried to do the same to her. Sewoon would share her experience regarding sex, how she did it, what she did and how good it felt. She was sexually active and made sure everyone knew about it, bothering Y/n. It was a subject that she didn't feel confident or comfortable talking about, however Sewoon pressured her to go the same path as her and that pissed Y/n off, but she would let it slide.
Maybe that was the main problem, letting it slide too muc. She never thought they would get to the point they are at today and that's sad. Now, Y/n was envious of all the experience she had acquired over the years, because with Jungkook it worked. He was so enthralled by Sewoon's beauty and comfort around guys, not to mention the way she won over boys, the subtle way of touching and talking to them when she tried to conquer them. Honestly, she admired the way she could make people who weren't interested in her focueds on her so quickly. Y/n knew she would never reach her feet in that way.
Everything that happened today with Jungkook was just one more thing to confuse her. What if she was imagining things? As far as she knows he could flirt like this with everyone else. What if he thought she was easy just because she had feelings for him and he was in need of more than she could give him? She has known him long enough to know he wasn’t part like this but still... One never really knows someone, right? Sewoon is living proof of this.
Walking in her room, Y/n went to change clothes and do her skin care, she had cried so much during the day that her eyes were swollen. She washed her face with cold water and dried it and putting a facial mask on. It was a very cold night but the moonlight helped to alleviate the darkness outside and she took advantage of being alone to go to the living room with her favourite book in hand, sitting in a chair next to the fireplace. The Y/n from a few days ago would be unable to tell Jungkook how she felt, yet both yesterday and today she had already confessed twice and had even confronted Sewoon. She never thought she would be able to raise her voice the way she did.
She somehow feels that Jungkook came into her life to break down all these walls around her heart with his sweet gaze and magnetic smile. She fell in love with him, but didn't have the courage to admit it (to him or herself), which ended up in her best friend dating him and yet she continued to desire him. Damn, she was so happy to know they had broken up, so she could rekindle her friendship with him and although knowing this was not something a good friend would do, at that moment Y/n doesn’t regret staying close to Jungkook, otherwise the moment they shared today wouldn't have happened at all. For that she also has Lisa to thank. God, she was very upset with her, but she ended up opening a path she never thought she would have with him.
Suddenly, she heard the main door open, announcing Lisa's arrival. Lisa hadn't even noticed her since when she arrived it was all dark. When Lisa heard a voice calling her in the distance she screamed and now it was Y/n's turn to laugh. Lisa put her hands to her chest and threw her keys at her in protest.
“You really scared the shit out of me Y/n. What the fuck are you doing with every light turned off? Are you a vampire and I didn’t notice it?” Lisa throws herself on the couch “Huuuuufff finally home! I've never had a day as long as this one. Meetings after meetings, just boring shit. How was your day? Was it a nightmare or a cool one?” Y/n gave a half smile
"Initially it was shitty, but it ended pretty well" Lisa raised her head and made a suspicious face.
“That means something did happen. Oh my god, is it Jungkook related?”
“Yes and no” Lisa was confused. “Last night before going to sleep I sent a text to Sewoon, trying to talk to her about the things I found out on that trip regarding Tae, but she didn't give me an answer so I didn't think much about it anymore. Today, it was almost time for my break when I saw her come in. I told Sana that I was going outside and would be right back, but the conversation didn't go as I expected. She was horrible Lisa, she said tons of shit that affected me a lot. I never met this person before. I saw a person I didn't know existed.”
“What did she tell you?” Lisa whispered and Y/n lowered her head, sighing.
“She basically said that she was happy I had disappeared without telling anyone, that the only bad thing was that Jungkook was constantly wanting to know my whereabouts and not even with the pictures she showed him did he calm down. Ohh and that she prayed for news to arrive that something bad had happened to me. She also mentioned that I had stolen Tae from her and that she’d do everything to be with Jungkook, especially since they had already been together a few times, so she had no doubt that he would choose her over me. A bunch of shit.”
“SHE SAID WHAT? God that girl needs a punch to bring her back to reality I swear the next time I see her I’m gonna end her. Who does she think she is f--” Y/n interrupted her
“It’s okay Lisa. Actually, I need to thank her. After that, I was so upset that Sana told me to leave, I needed to clear my head and you were working so I decided to take a walk. Somehow, I ended up in front of Jungkook's workplace, he ended up seeing me and went after me and insisted on bringing me home, however, I told him I had to make a stop by La Dolce Perla and we ended up having dinner there. Although things were VERY tense at the beginning, by the end of the night I ended up letting some things out and he didn't judge me or anything, quite the opposite, he kept me calm and respected me. There was something in the air you know? Something that was pulling us closer to each other. We almost kissed” Lisa squealed in excitement but then stopped and made a funny face.
“So why didn't you?”
“I - I don’t know... I guess he noticed how nervous I was. We were saying goodbye and then he told me he’d wait for me. I don’t know what kind of waiting was he referring to but somehow that gave me comfort, but I’m not sure it’s a good thing, I mean it gives me hope for a future for us but with Sewoon in the picture I--”
“Why don’t you talk to him about Sewoon? A real and open conversation where both of you get all the answers to your questions. You guys have a lot of connection, don’t miss that over misunderstandings.” Lisa said while hugging Y/n, excusing herself to get ready for bed. She had a very busy day in her company and she was wrecked. Y/n was tired too, so she went to her bedroom, did her routine and fell asleep, or at least she tried to.
On the next day Sana wouldn’t be there so she’d be with the new guy. She never got to make a full shift with him and she was curious to see how it’d go. By the time her alarm went off Y/n was wide awake and ready to star her day. She had the weirdest yet the best dream ever. It was about Jungkook and she was enjoying it so much that when she woke up she cursed her neighbor for making so much noise at 08:15 a.m.
She was going to make a double shift. She hated when her boss asked her favors like these but she really needed the money, that’s what kept her going. Getting there she saw Namjoon cleaning tables. Sana wouldn’t stop gushing over him, how cute he looked or how mature he was for someone his age. Even though Sana didn't have the courage to admit her feelings for him (yet, according to her) there was a palpable chemistry between them. The few moments that Y/n witnessed, made her think about her example, how much she thought she and Jungkook understood each other until Sewoon appeared. The day was passing by very peacefully. Right now there were only two customers so she and Namjoon took the opportunity to get some things done earlier. While at it, they got to know each other better and when they finished what they were doing, they ended up engaging in a deep conversation.
Okay, she had to agree with Sana, he had a great view on life and knew a lot for a 20-year-old. They were so absorbed in their conversation they didn't even notice the arrival of a new customer. Hearing the chirping of a throat in order to draw the attention of the two of them, Y/n was surprised to see Jungkook there with a look she couldn’t describe. Namjoon must have felt the weight of Jungkook’s eyes on him because he used some lame excuse to get out of there as soon as possible, leaving her alone with him.
“Jungkook, hi! I – I wasn't expecting to see you here at this time of the day. Usually you come a little later... Is everything okay?” Jungkook took a whole minute to respond, glancing between her and the door Namjoon had «escaped»
“Yes, everything’s fine. I hmmm- I was around and I-- I know it's almost your lunch time so I passed by to see if you wanted to have lunch with me.” He looks at Namjoon when he sees him walking out with some boxes. “But if you’re busy yo-”
“Imnotbusyatall” she answered so quickly Jungkook didn’t understand a thing so she had to repeat herself, calmer this time. “Sorry. I meant to say I’m not busy. I have two hours for lunch since I'm working double shifts today. I just wasn’t expecting to see you so... early. I mean, for someone who usually shows up around 9pm, it's quite surprising” She smiled, turning her attention to the door, only to see Namjoon walk in again looking at her and Jungkook. He gave her a thumbs up, she flipped him off surreptitiously. Jungkook, on the other hand, was paying attention to all these actions. He's never seen this guy before, maybe he didn’t pay much attention to him. They seemed to have hit off pretty nice and for some reason he didn't like that at all.
“I finished the morning session earlier than expected so I Ieft early as well. It's 10 minutes to 1 pm, can I stay here waiting for you or do you think you’ll have problems with that guy?”
“With Namjoon? Naah, he’s cool. I'll just tell him to come replace me so I can change clothes and we can go. I’ll be right back.” As said, Y/n went to warn Namjoon and went towards the locker room. She left after 5 minutes, seeing Jungkook waiting for her near the exit. Weird, he usually used to wait for her at the counter where she and Sana usually stay, where Namjoon currently is as well.
“Why are you waiting here? It’s not your normal spot you know? Joon won’t bite you for standing there” Y/n said laughing while approaching Jungkook. Seeing her, he adjusted his coat and smiled, opened the door motioning for her to go through it first, leaving behind her.
“I didn't like him, that's all, so I preferred to wait here. Besides, I didn't want to cause trouble. "
"Why would you cause trouble? It's not like this is the first time you've come in here or waited for me to leave. And what do you mean you didn't like him? Do you know each other by any chance? Where's the Jungkook who says we shouldn't judge a book by it's cover?” Y/n was teasing him and he knew it, answering with a little shut up. About five minutes away down the road there was a small burger place. It wasn't the first time they went there to eat, she loved the burgers there and the space was heaven. When they sat down, the waiter took their order and went to get their drinks, returning two minutes later. They both said thank you, giving some sips on their coca cola’s. Jungkook broke off the silence first.
“So..you and the new guy seemed pretty close. Cool guy hm?”
“His name is Namjoon and yes we got along quite well. You wanna know a fun fact? it was our first day working together officially. He started when I was on vacation and he’s been doing more day shifts with Sana. But yeah, he’s pretty nice. I was surprised, he’s younger than us but he’s pretty mature for his age and he made me laugh a lot today. It made my double shift a lot easier.”
“Ohhh”. Jungkook gave a few sips on his drink. “Glad it only took him a few minutes for you to be able to feel comfortable with him. It took me ages for you to look at my face. No one would tell it was your first time working together. You must have really liked him” Was he jealous?
“There’s nothing going on between us if that’s what you’re trying to know.” Jungkook chocked on his drink and tried to look everywhere but her. “We made a great team today but that’s it. He’s not my type. Besides, Sana has a crush on him. I’d never do that to a friend of mine”. Jungkook understood the hint. When he was about so speak, the waiter came with their orders. He waited for him to leave again so he could say what he wanted.
“I’m sorry” Y/n frowned.
“Sorry? What for?”
"It was bad of me to come between you and Sewoon. It's a long story and I have to tell you all about it, but at the same time I want to respect your space and time. I should have talked to you as soon as I realized something was going on, but I was confused and--” Y/n interrupted him.
“Were you happy? While you were with Sewoon I mean. Did she make you feel happy?” For the first time Jungkook didn't know what to answer because he genuinely didn't know. Looking back, he knows he was never in love with her, it was just a momentary thing. He realized this too late and now he’s paying for it. Y/n noticed his discomfort so she changed the subject. “This place is without a doubt the one with the best burgers. This is my second favorite place, I really enjoy coming here and this is sooooo good or maybe it's just me being so hungry.” She said, laughing at her own words. Jungkook laughed too. One of the things he never felt with Sewoon: lightness and tranquility. With her, everything was always a competition and based on image. Very controlled, very fake, very rehearsed.
During their meal, they talked about basic things related to life, work and dreams, ordered dessert and drank coffee. Jungkook paid their meals and even though Y/n refused he didn't listen, telling her to pay next time. When they got outside, Jungkook took out a cigarette and stayed like that, grabbing it. Y/n looked at him with a questioning face.
"How come I didn’t know you smoked? I mean every time we went out I never noticed. I was so surprised to see you smoking the other day”
"And you said you hadn't noticed me." He said laughing. "I don't smoke much, usually after coffee or when I'm nervous/anxious. I've always tried not to smoke around you because I know you don't like the smell, so I avoid it."
"Is that why you haven't lit your cigarette yet?" Jungkook looked at the hand that had the cigarette between his fingers. "Maybe" he said wrinkling his nose, looking at her with those sweet bambi eyes. God help her because she can't stay away from this man much longer. During their way back to her work she expected him to light the cigarette, but at no point did he do so. She even told him that if he needed to smoke to do it, that she didn't have to be an obstacle simply because she didn't like it, to which he replied that there were priorities and at that moment smoking wasn't one of them. She didn't say anything back but Jungkook noticed the blush on her cheeks and the shy smile on her face.
“I wasn’t happy” Y/n looked at him wondering what he meant by that. He keeps talking. “You asked me if I was happy with Sewoon and my answer is no. Everything was a facade between us and now I can see how dumb I was to call it love. There were no feelings between us, only physical attraction and illusions. I know I messed up bad by getting together with her Y/n and I wish I could take it back. Even though I didn’t know your feelings for me but it was wrong and you have no idea how bad I feel for hurting you, even without meaning to. I’m truly deeply sorry.” Y/n felt so bad for him. It was a mix of emotions and she just wanted to comfort him so she stopped walking, grabbed his arm and pulled him towards her, hugging him tight, whispering
"You're not to blame for anything. If anything I'm to blame because I was the one who didn't speak up." He moved away a little, although they were very close. "We don't control our feelings. It's not your fault that I fell in love with you just as it's not your fault that you felt something for Sewoon, just as I don't blame her for having something with you even though she knew about my feel--” She stopped talking when she saw his shocked face. His face changed drastically when she said Sewoon knew about her feelings, he was angry and you could see it. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Sewoon knew? She knew and you still insisted on pushing her to me?!” He was mad.
“What was I supposed to do? You’re my best friend and I was afraid of ruining it with you, then you wanted to meet her and I just couldn’t say no. I knew you two were perfect for each other. I- I didn’t want to be selfish- I -”
“FOR ONCE Y/n. Just for once you should’ve been selfish! Do you have any idea of how hard this has been for me? just to know that you were the one who gave me to her just like that? Was I not enough for you, was that it?”
“Jungkook, no... Wh- What are you saying? I was the one that wasn’t enough for YOU. That’s why I introduced you to her.” At this point Jungkook had already moved away quite a bit, running his hands through his hair.
“You were more than enough Y/n. You just didn't bother to face what was in front of you. Why do you want everything to be given to you? Is it really that hard for you to take control of your life for once? You would’ve avoided so many things Y/n. But you know what? I'm glad it was this way, maybe you and I weren't meant to be after all and we’re just realizing this now.” He sighed. “C’mon, I need to go and you have to go work as well.
The last minutes felt like hours. Y/n hadn't realized how things had gotten to that point, it wasn't possible to understand. She thought it was unfair that he was blaming her for not opening up, even though he was upset, but even so. When they arrived Y/n grabbed his arm once more.
“Jungkook, you can’t leave like this. You can’t drive being all raged up right now. Talk to me, please. I know I should’ve been more honest about things but I was scared and- and it’s not like you gave me any signs of any feelings either. I wanted you to be happy desp-” he released himself from her grip.
“I did gave you signs Y/n! I fucking did!That's why I'm so messed up. I - The only reason why I approached Sewoon in the first place was to have a reaction from you and to know things I knew I couldn't ask you directly.” It was Y/n’s turn to be shocked. What? “I know you avoid relationships and everything related to boys because you’re scared. If I told you how I felt or what I wanted I was scared you'd run away from me like you always do so I kept giving you signs Y/n but I had no reaction from you at all. I knew who Sewoon was from some pictures on your Instagram so when I challenged you to introduce me to her I was testing waters, however, your indifference remained there. It's not just my fault. I took you on dates and you would dismiss it, saying it was just two best friends hanging out. I left work every day and waited for you every day. In my free time I would come here to keep you company and be close to you while I sketch things that I could easily do at home. I have a cafe in front of my store and yet I’m- Always- Here- You can't be that oblivious Y/n. You were the one to put a label on us every goddamn time! You say you’re in love with me? No Y/n you’re not, otherwise you wouldn’t have given up so damn fast and give me to your best friend like a damn trophy the moment she asked. Hurts to know that I didn't deserve a second thought.” Y/n could only look at him. He looked so damn honest and he was so disappointed in her. There was hurt all over his face and that was killing her. She wanted to say something but she couldn’t so she did what she always does: let him go.
She shouldn't have let him go. The rest of the day was fulfilled with anxiety and guilt. Every day she discovered new things and every time she thought her and Jungkook were stepping forward, they took five steps back. She was ruining everything good she had ever dreamed of with her cowardice and lack of communication. She should've gone after him, yet pride got the best of her.
Like always.
After the argument he got in the car and left. At first she tried not to think about it too much, but then she felt the guilt consume her. When she was alone with just a few clients, she sent several texts to Jungkook, apologizing for the way things happened, for them to talk and clear things up once and for all.
No response.
Lisa was going to spend the night out, so once again she found herself alone in that giant apartment. Without thinking she called Jungkook, going straight to voicemail all the six times she tried. The only positive thing was that the next day it'd be her day off and she’d try to talk to Jungkook and clear things up.
Hopefully
The next day Y/n woke up with a huge weight beside her bed. When she opened her eyes she saw Lisa looking at her with a smile from ear to ear.
"Good morning, sunshine. I'm going to do something crazy and I want you to come with me. Hurry up, get even more pretty and let's go. If I’m late and loose my turn I'm going to kill you.”
That's what consisted being friends with Lisa: waiting for her to wake her up at 9:30 in the morning for something that had popped into her mind out of pure spontaneity was just an example of it. She was adventurous and left nothing undone or unsaid because, according to her, you only live once and she would rather regret what she didn't do than everything she tried and failed at.
That's how at 10 in the morning Y/n found herself in front of the tattoo shop where Jungkook works. The only thing she wanted to do was turn around and leave. Gosh, he's been ignoring her attempts to contact him, how could she just walk in there like nothing was happening? She remembers talking to Lisa about getting tattoos. She never had courage for it, besides, Sewoon would tell her all the time they wouldn't suit her, thus she gave up of the idea. Lisa encouraged her, saying that when she did hers Y/n would do it too, but now, her stomach was churning and it seemed like the only thing that was going to come out was vomit. When they arrived at the entrance Y/n stopped.
“I can’t go in with you. I’m sorry”
“What do you mean you can’t? You can’t leave me alone at it. Also, I booked you a session so you have to show up.” Lisa said innocently.
“You knew Jungkook works here, didn't you? You little bi--”
“Hey hey hey. There’s no time for that my friend. We're about to get hotter and have something marked on us. Let’s go.” She was fucked. Lisa linked her arm with her and they walked inside. It was a very peaceful place, with drawings on display, music playing and a diffuser. Of course. Jungkook was addicted to smells and very weird about them too.
The first person they saw was the red-haired lady Y/n had seen close to Jungkook the other day. Seen up close, she was even more stunning. Since Lisa was the one scheduling the session, the red-haired who introduced herself as Athena went to talk to Lisa to see what was she interested in. As she talked to her about the type of tattoo she wanted, presenting some sketches too for her to choose, Y/n looked around, praying she wouldn't see Jungkook while being there.
“What about you? What kind of design did you think of?” She asked Y/n, giving her a genuine smile. "First time? You don't have to stress about it honey, it's most likely for you not to feel a thing"
“Ohh I didn’t think of anything... You see I was totally caught up on this. I didn't know I was coming so I didn'--- "
“Her idea was to make a semicolon on her wrist. Something simple. Y/n, babe, we talked about this. You’re not gonna chicken out right?” Y/n looked at her friend and her answer shocked herself more than anyone else in the room. “Okay. Yes you’re right Lisa. I’m already here so why not?” Lisa opened her mouth, closing it up immediately, smiling. Change comes with little steps.
One step at a time
Athena showed Lisa some ideas until she finally chose what she liked the most. She was getting a sternum tattoo and the sketch Athena did was a piece of art, all those lines and details were just too perfect. She then excused herself to pick something up, disappearing for about 2 minutes, that's all it took for disaster to happen. While they were waiting for her to return they saw Jungkook walk through the door with two coffees. As he placed them on a small table in the entrance, Y/n realizes he didn't see them there, at least not until Athena returned to the room and spoke to him, causing him to look up where they were standing.
"Yooh Jkaay I'm glad you got here. Can you finish this design for me? I have these two pretty ladies here and the client will come by later to see if the drawing is ready but there are some parts I'm having trouble getting right, can you help me with this?” As soon as Jungkook looked up, he met Y/n's gaze, which was already focused on him. He had no reaction. “Hey lover boy. I know they’re pretty but I’m kinda waiting for an answer here”
“Hmmm.. Oh yeah- yes. You can leave it there I’ll be sure to give it a look.” his gaze was intense as it met yours but didn't say anything, as if he didn't know you. Athena thanked him and directed the two of them to a large room. While her friend took her shirt off and laid down on her back, Athena settled everything on the sterilized table. Y/n was inspecting the drawings on the wall, realizing Jungkook's signature on the end of all of them. After placing the artwork where Lisa wanted Athena grabbed the tattoo machine, filling the room with the sounds the needles working and Y/n got scared. She was sure that was gonna hurt. 10 minutes in there's a knock on the door. After Athena replied, Jungkook walked in the room with what Y/n thought was the drawing she asked him to check.
“This is fantastic Kook. If the idiot doesn't like it I'll have it myself. It's incredible." Jungkook smiled and looked at Y/n and then at Athena again. "This is going to be a lot of work Ath. It's full of details and has such a thin line. You have to be careful not to smudge as you clean it."
"I know, I hadn't realized that. It's going to be a challenge but it'll look cool on her body. I still have her friend to tattoo but that’s something small and quick.” Jungkook looked at her way.
“I can do it. I’m free and won’t have any client until noon.” Y/n froze in the moment. No fucking way.
"I can wait. It's okay, really." Jungkook looked at her, picked up some still-closed material and opened the door. "Come on, I'll take care of it." And for a second, Y/n didn't know how to breathe anymore
Jungkook was waiting for her to follow him. When he noticed she wasn't moving at all he called out for her name again. Unconsciously, Y/n ended up getting up and going after him but she didn't leave without looking at the place Athena and Lisa were, noticing the strange expression Athena made. Had Jungkook ever mentioned her?
He went ahead, taking her to a more private room which was on the first floor. It was quite far from all the other rooms and common area. When they arrived there, he motioned for her to sit in front of what she assumed was Jungkook's desk. There were photos of several people, she doesn’t remember meeting any of them until one got her attention: it was a picture of Jungkook and Sewoon together. He was wearing white and she was wearing a black dress. She remembers this day very well- It was in the beginning of their relationship and Sewoon was having a party with her agency and Jungkook was her date, they were both so pretty and cuddly and looked so into each other. Jungkook was treating her like a princess and it was the first time Y/n felt anger towards her best friend. She cried all night after getting home, spying Sewoon's instagram and all the love-dovey pics she was posting. What a night
He sat on the chair in front of Y/n, behind his desk to sketch what she wanted to tattoo when he noticed where her eyes were wandering at, grabbing the picture and putting it in a drawer. She didn’t say anything, looking everywhere but him.
“According to Athena you wanted just a simple semicolon on your wrist, right? So I did sketch want you wanted but added something more. If you don’t like it or want it you can say it and I'll do just what you initially wanted okay?” Jungkook showed her a design of a semicolon with a butterfly wing around it. It was honestly so beautiful. She remembers saying to him one time she identified herself as a butterfly, because no matter the situation she was going through she could always adapt herself and learn from it. Did he remember that?
“I- I love it Jungkook. This is so pretty and personal, I- Thank you, this is amazing. I’ll have it that way”
“Are you sure? It’s gonna be there forever”
“I’m 100% sure. Start this before I lose my courage” Jungkook gave her a nod, taking the paper and putting it on her skin with some wet liquid. He could tell she was nervous so he told her when he was about to start. “If you need me to stop let me know. We have time okay?” Y/n nodded
“You have amazing sketches here. Not that I didn't know but you're super talented, I feel grateful that it’s you doing this on me. When you become a world-renowned artist I'm gonna brag about it, I’m already warning you.” After their fight yesterday, Y/n was trying to ease the tension between them but he was making it hard. She missed Jungkook and wanted to clear things up with him. She was done with all the confusion and misunderstandings, however, Jungkook remained in silence. “Please Jungkook I’m trying. I miss you. I miss us. I don’t even understand what happened yesterday and I’m sorry for hurting you in any way. I’m tired of this! You're driving me crazy by leaving me in this void. I'm not like this Jk, you know it. I don't care about boys but just the thought of losing you is killing me. That's the effect you have on me!” He wasn’t paying attenton to her at all, or maybe he was just ignoring her on purpose, either ways she was getting more and more frustrated and did her best to keep her tears to herself since she couldn't get out of there. With her free hand, she surreptitiously wiped her eyes with her shirt sleeve. What she didn’t know was that Jungkook was paying attention to all her movements.
“I’m sorry. I talk a lot with my clients for them to relax a bit but with you... I feel like if I talk I'm not gonna be able to concentrate and I don’t want to mess this up. You make me nervous just with your presence. That's the effect you have on me Y/n. When it comes to you I can't separate things”
"I could’ve waited for Athena to do it. Actually I think it’d be better, given the situation we are at right now. Damn Jungkook I put my guard down for you and now you're treating me like this, what for? You criticize me for avoiding things, yet you're doing the exact same thing, it's not fair. You can't say whatever you want, make me feel bad and then do the same to me. I know I messed up somewhere. I know I should've been braver, but you are such a special and necessary part of my life that I was afraid of you not feeling the same way, could break everything we built so far, which is stupid right now because that's exactly what happened. There is no way we can go back to what we were before” By the time she ended her speech, Jungkook was already putting the final touches on the tattoo, being done with it. Both of them remained silenced until he had picked up the tattoo protection to place it around her skin.
“Let’s do it then. Let’s put everything on the table and be honest because honestly I can’t handle this anymore too. Where do you want me to start? From the day we first met? I had the shittiest day ever it was raining so much. That’s what made me stop at the coffee shop. Then you looked absolutely gorgeous standing there looking at me and when you noticed I was staring back and pretended to have lost an earring, that caught my attention, how innocent and naive you looked. Then I started to get to know you better and it was it for me. It was so hard not to fall for you. I kept taking you out to places but you always friendzoned me somehow, I would tell you about non existing dates to see your reaction but you always had the same posture, I came to terms that it was a one-sided thing. Then Sewoon happened. When you introduced us, honestly I was very straightforward with her. I asked her about you, if you liked someone if you ever talked about me, you know, something to give me hope. But the answers she gave me weren’t the ones I expected to hear and I was so disappointed.” Y/n's system was soon on alert.
“What- - What did she tell you?” Jungkook took a while to answer which was making her impatient. She was about to lose her mind.
“She told me you were seeing someone and it was getting serious. That she was sorry but wouldn’t get in the way. After that, we kept talking a little more and when I was about to leave she was the one asking me to go out with her. Just a simple date so I said yes, maybe that would help me take my mind of you. Then things happened and time skipped and we broke up and yeah I didn’t take that well because no one likes to feel they failed at something, but I’m so glad we did. We didn’t align in anything, we fought a lot behind doors. Then came the party you and Sewoon went. I was already there remember? You looked so sad and the first thing I remembered was the guy you were supposed to be seeing. I was hoping you were long gone with the dude but the way you were acting and how you were talking to me ended up confirming Sewoon’s words about you and that special someone and I--- I lost my mind.”
“So you ended up kissing Sewoon to relieve all that anger, right?” She got up and slowly turned her way towards the door when Jungkook grabbed her arm.
“That was a terrible mistake. As soon as I realized what I did I stepped back immediately. After that I looked everywhere for you, but I didn’t found you. When I did, you told me you were leaving with someone and that was it. I tried talking to you all night but your phone was either out of reach or you wouldn’t respond.” There's this awkward silence until one of them spok again.
“That night broke me Jungkook. You broke me. I was there, I was hurt and you noticed something was up but all your eyes were looking at was Sewoon. I wished so many times it was me you were kissing, holding, touching. I'd see you with her and all I imagined was us. That was so toxic of me, that's why I left, because I couldn't see you leave with her knowing the next day I'd know everything about it."
They didn't realize how close they were until they felt each other's breath hitting their faces. Y/n doesn't know when things changed, but since the night at the restaurant there is something that pushes them towards each other. She gets a strange feeling in her belly, in her chest… down there. It's strange, she never felt something like this for anyone and it was confusing her. She knows if he asked her something she'd do it on the spot. It seems like Jungkook could feel the tension either because the hand that was previously on her arm was now around her waist, while the other caressed the right side of her face tucking some hair behind her ear. It was then that she felt the distance between them getting shorter and shorter, when all of a sudden they heard someone knock on the door, opening it, revealing Athena's slightly confused figure.
"Sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt, I heard voices and came to check if you were okay, as it's not usual for you to bring anyone here. I-- hmm- just wanted to let you know that I finished Lisa's piece and we're downstairs drinking some coffee and talking in case you'd want to join us when you finished whatever you were.... doing, but no pressure, make yourself comfortable, I didn't see anything. Use protection, okay? You still have a life to enjoy before any surprises." Jungkook made a desperate sound looking at Athena and throwing something at her
"Don't be an idiot, it's not what it looks like and you know it. Anyone hearing you talk would think you see me doing a lot of dirty things here. Work is work and I take it very seriously." Jungkook paused, glacing at Y/n, just to speak again. " We'll meet you downstairs in 10 minutes, I just need to finish explaining how she should handle this in the next few days." Athena hummed, giving them a nod before leaving. However, they heard her tell Lisa that - they were busy and would probably take longer to joy them- They knew she spoke loud for them to hear. Jungkook went to a drawer and took out a cream, handing it to Y/n.
"For the next three days you must avoid direct sunlight on the area. This protection should last for 24 hours, then you can remove it in the shower or by wetting the area with warm water, drying it well and applying the cream two or three times a day. If you feel any itching, that's normal, but if you see red spots around it let me know so I can check it out. But in principle, everything should be fine." Y/n nodded and thanked him, grabbing her wallet, heading towards the door but stopped halfway and turned around, facing Jungkook.
"Did you sleep with Sewoon here?"those words came out faster than Y/n could control. Why the hell did she ask that. Jungkook wasn't expecting that either, because his mouth opened and closed several times, not knowing what to answer, a little embarrassed. This gave Y/n a feeling that maybe the answer was yes. "Never mind, sorry, I don't know why I asked this. Forget it." She turned around again ready to open the door. She was about to do so when a hand above her head slammed the door shut again with a bang.
"Why do you always put me in difficult positions? It's past and - aiish- No Y/n, I didn't. This is my office, my space, my privacy, I don't bring anyone for anything more than work, not even Sewoon. This wasn't exactly the space she liked to frequent the most" Y/n nodded.
"I don't know why I asked, I'm sorry. Being here knowing that you and her were- you know- that would be just weird and gross. I mean, who knows what kind of "things" would be around here and-- Okay, nevermind. How about we go down? They're waiting for us and will start thinking stuff about us being here."
"So? Let them think what they want to think.. I'm not bothered at all. Are you?" When Y/n was about to answer, the door opened without warning revealing an excited Athena again, but she didn't realize that when she opened the door she had hit Y/n with it. "Shit Ath be careful. Knock before coming in. Jesus"
"Dude, I don't know what the situation is between you two, but behind the door is definitely not the best place. Been there, done that. It's interesting but not comfortable. Also, why are you so bothered by the knocking thing all of a sudden? That was never a rule. Just put something on the door handle to when you're busy doing other things. That's what I do with your broth-"
"Aiiiishh Athena. I'm not really interested in what you and my brother do or don't do, How disgusting. We were just talking! Stop being nosy and up on my ass. What's the matter with you today? why are you always coming here thought? You never care when I’m upstairs”
“Well you’re always by yourself, there’s nothing for me to pry on. Either way, I came here to tell you that the client you had for noon called to inform he’s no longer able to come. His wife went into labour, so you’re free for now”
“Well at least is for some good reasons. I’ll call him up later to reschedule.” Athena would steal glances from Jungkook to Y/n with a funny look, trying to see something she could pick up to tease them more “Anyway, I think I’ll grab lunch with Lisa. She’s pretty rad. Do you wanna come?” It was Y/n’s turn to speak
“I actually have some things to get done, but you go and have fun. Maybe we can grab a coffee later?” All she wanted was to run. After that stupid question she made she just wanted somewhere to hide.
“Of course, just give me your number. It’ll be easier” they both switched numbers and Athena gave a final goodbye to her, giving her a hug and winking to Jungkook, whispering behave before shutting the door completely. What the hell.
“So... The girls are leaving and you probably have things to do too so I should get going as well. I have to meet up with Joon, he asked me if I could stop by so hmmm, yeah. Thanks for your time. If - if I have any questions I’ll pass by. Thank you once again." This was her cue to leave. Uttering those words she was out of the door, running down the stairs getting closer and closer to the main door but when she reached it, it was locked.
Goddamn it!
She was thinking about calling Lisa to turn around and wait for her when she heard footsteps behind her. She didn't dare to look back but in question of minutes she felt Jungkook's chest against her back, hearing him whisper
"Why are you always in such a rush when it comes to me? What are you so afraid of?" Jungkook turned her around to face him. "Let yourself go Y/n. For me, for you, for us. We've been over the friendship thing for a while now, don't you think? No matter how much you try to deny it, the attraction is here" He was so close to her she could feel his heartbeat.
"I can't" She whispered. "Everytime I look at you I get myself reminded of how you used to be with Sewoon. There was her before me and I can't compare. I can't erase that image of my head. I- I want to forget, but I can't"
"I'll help you forget. Let me help you forget, but mainly let me show you how there's no comparison between you and her" They were so close and there was so much desire so she let herself go and feel all she wanted, grabbing Jungkook by the hem of his grey shirt and closing the distance between them. The response to the kiss was automatic. Y/n felt Jungkook kiss her back as if he had already been waiting for this moment. Slowly at first, like they were testing each other, until he slowly pushed her against the door, placing his hand behind her neck, deepening the kiss. She never had a kiss like that. At this point she felt the entire zoo inside her and she was aware of everything around her: of how Jungkook's hands were hovering over her body, how their mouths were thirsty for each other, the way their bodies were so close yet so far.
It was just them and their desire for each other. And at that moment that was all that mattered.
Bonus: The famous tattoos made
Lisa’s OC'S
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You're welcome ;)
Tags: @esposadomd @joonlover1207 @eegyo @furrywonderlandwolf @minghaosimp @differentrunawayperson @nikkinikj @jksusawife @jk97bam @cryingoverpixelsetc @bhonbhon @lostinneocity @almostpurplelady @meowforluv @imagine-this-motherfucker @jk-190811 @cryingoverpixelsetc @11thenightwemet11 @rinkud @ayatie97 @jk-190811 @shaku1995 @blueberriesm @darkangelfei
#jungkook#angst#bts#jungkook imagines#jungkook angst#jungkook x reader#jungkook x you#fluff#imagines#kpop romance#kpopangst#tattoos
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New Beginnings — OoT! Link x gn! reader
summary: some people have first meetings that happen twice. At least yours ends with a happy ending.
a/n: this was meant to be a brainrot blurb and got out of hand so its more of a ficlet than anything. bad summary ik, but it has a cute ending!
wc: 1.1k
Master List
The first time you met the hero of time you were standing guard in front of the entrance to Lon Lon Ranch. You had been hired by Ingo to make sure unsavory folks didn’t make their way in…which is hard when he catered to the most unsavory there was. With castle town taken over and the princess gone it seemed that Hyrule would never come back from being under Ganon’s thumb. Seeing the boy…man(?), who was around your age approach, you fixed your slouched posture, hand over the hilt of your sword. You eyed the young man in a green tunic wearily, asking him to state his business. With blue eyes filled with passion, looking a bit concerned even, you had decided to let him pass…perhaps he’ll help poor Malon who had been mistreated ever since you first started working.
It was later that night when you had talked to Malon about the strange man when she explained that he had come seven years ago. How she had called him fairy boy due to the blue sprite that followed him about, and how she was glad to see him once more, even if the circumstances weren’t the best. You went to bed that night wondering why you couldn’t seem to get his determined expression out of your mind…it was too bad you had never seen him again.
The first time you met Link was when you were lugging two pails of milk, trying your hardest not to let a drop spill over. His bright blonde hair stood out against the rolling green of the hill that was Lon Lon Ranch. You had been hired as a stablehand by Talon, helping with any chore you could alongside his daughter Malon. You nodded towards the young man who watched you with curious eyes…odd. Ignoring him, you continued with your daily tasks, watching Malon greet him from the corner of your eye, curious as to who he was.
Bonding was easy once he started to help out on the farm as well, finding yourself teasing him as he ran from the cuccos, when a horse tried to eat his hair, or when a cow just would not for the life of him let him clean her stall. You were quickly endeared by Link, feeling your heart drop every time he was called by the palace to help establish peace with one thing or another. You weren’t sure what the royal castle would want for a mere farmhand…it was odd. Link was odd…but you found that all the more charming.
You weren’t sure why the nickname slipped past your lips one day. Fairy boy. You hadn’t seen him with a fairy before, but for some reason it felt natural. The way Link whipped his head towards you, eyes wide and jaw slack, you felt as if you had made a mistake. You had tried to backtrack, explaining how it came out of nowhere, but he dropped it, merely shaking his head and muttering how he had an old fairy friend he was looking for. So it was only natural that the next time you went to Castle Town on a goods run, you had rushed to the library, searching all you could for fairies and anything related. Apparently they liked sweets and shiny objects, and would heal a person in great need. Interesting.
You had asked Malon to help you place a small bowl of water with sugar cubes on the far side of the farm, lying through your teeth about how you always wanted to see a fairy in real life. Confused, but understanding she had helped. It had become a part of your routine from then on to check the bowl, asking any fairy that you caught if they had known Link or another fairy who knew him, and restocking it when necessary. You didn’t even know the name of the fairy you were searching for, but you were trying your best. As well as trying to keep your little mission under wraps, not wanting Malon to ask too many questions, and wishing to surprise Link if you ever do end up finding his old friend.
Too bad things didn’t seem to want to go your way.
The sun had been setting, Malon was finishing up putting the animals away, Link had been called to Castle Town days ago, and you stood with two fairies, one sitting on your shoulder and the other flying around your face. You spoke in hushed whispers as the fairies returned in kind with bell-like jingles. You couldn’t understand a word they were saying, but they were trying their best with gestures and shapes…only for the one in front of you to join its friend on your shoulder, both huddling together. Confused, you turned around only to be face to face with Link, bandage covering his right eye. You felt your heart drop, hands instinctively rising to hold his face only to hesitate.
Your worry clearly shined on your face as Link softly took your outstretched hand and placed it on his cheek, a warm blush littering his cheeks. Questions rolled off your tongue a mile a minute, asking your friend what had happened and if he was okay. A deep chuckle rumbled through his chest, he had surely grown since you both were teens years ago, soothing your worries quietly with fond eyes. You were too panicked to notice. Timidly, one of the fairies flew off your shoulder, approaching the tall man. Link watched on warmly as it tried its best to heal any damage it could, letting Link take off the bandage.
You had gasped at the sight, a fresh scar ran from the center of his forehead, over his eye, down to the center of his cheek. Your thumb gently caressed the raised skin, frustration bubbling under your skin. You had grown to love the man, romantically, platonically, you didn’t care, but you loved him one way or another, and it made you burn with rage every time he came back hurt. The other fairy who stayed on your shoulder tried to comfort you, jingling softly and hugging your cheek. They were lucky they were cute, as it tugged a small smile out of you.
If you were to tell Link when he was the hero of time that he would end up not only courting, but marrying the attractive guard he met at Lon Lon Ranch all those years ago, he would have blushed and denied such claims. Yet fate is funny, as in this lifetime you had never really held a sword at all, more accustomed to carrying large crates and corralling animals. And you had decided that you wouldn’t mind being tied to such a man as him, merely stating that someone had to look after him. Even if he couldn’t provide you with all you were owed, you’d merely smile and tell him that all they wanted was him, and that was something he was more than willing to give you. His body, mind and soul were yours until the end of time.
#❥ • my works#lu x reader#time lu x reader#oot x reader#loz x reader#linked universe x reader#link loz x reader#loz link x reader#lu time x reader#lu#linked universe#time lu#lu time#loz#link loz#loz link#oot#ocarina of time#x reader
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Wow, that question really bought back a lot of memories #triggered 🤣🤣 but I have been on the other side of that question where those words were spoken but what they REALLY wanted to ask was "why don't you have a driver licence? What is wrong with you?"
Probably will always hit a nerve for me, because I have been on both sides.
I probably will regret oversharing, but what else is new, it anyone reads this & is dealing with increasing anxiety around getting their license (or getting it 'at the right age')... maybe it will bring you some comfort?
I got my 'learners permit' in high school, as part of my school's curriculum, I would have been 16 turning 17.
That piece of paper is the starting point, but it does require follow up to actually DO the learning to drive part.
Personal context: my dad is not great with patience and even being a passenger would give me anxiety, so he was not an option to train me. My mum agreed to teach me but had zero interest in us driving. I won't get into it, but basically she was always happy to drive us around and here is the most important part -
MY MOTIVATION levels were basically non-existent.
At that age, I had plenty of friends with cars who were happy to drive me around & I had been taking public transport to school/work for years at that point.
People would say "you don't understand how much freedom you get when you get your license" and it would be sooooo easy to dismiss because in my mind - I WAS already an independent teen/young adult.
I made plans with friends who would pick me up & I would feel very mature & free. I could leave home & catch a bus to the train line from which I could go anywhere. I worked part time. I HAD freedom, what was the rush?
Age 17, I fell in mutual love for the first time, they were two years older than me (as most of my friends/partners are).
By the time I was 19, me not having my license was no longer cute. It started internalizing the guilt I had for not getting onto it sooner/having it already. At this point, almost everyone my life (except my sister), had their license. I was comfortable & complacent relying on partner to drive.
Public transport is available but the flip side is the time it takes 20 min drive vs 45-60 mins via public transport. There were taxis too of course, with uber & ridesharing right on the horizon. The reality was even though these "independent options" existed for me, I rarely used them, instead I basically abused the goodwill of my loved ones.
At age 20, I decided to bite the bullet & buy myself lessons with a real driving instructor. I was proud of myself. I had only had my best friend take me out once and my mum a couple of times at that point.
This would be my second time driving a manual car. I really wanted my manual license. The cars I wanted to buy were cheaper in manual, but basically - people don't give you shit about it like they do with an auto license (in Australia anyways).
The down side - this driving instructor I picked was the fucking worst. We only had three lessons, the third license she made me turn out into peak hour traffic and my anxiety went into overdrive. I will never forget her making me pull over to whip out her phone to show me very graphic images of what happens to people who crash with their hands in the wrong position on the steering wheel. Aka she traumatized me something wicked.
I remember this vividly as I had my first international trip ever to Indonesia and whilst over there, I lost my phone. When I got back to Aus, I had to buy a new one, eventually got my number changed over and then started getting all these messages through from the driving instructor - asking about when our next scheduled lesson is that escalated to her threatening to charge me for being non responsive. It was insane as actually, I had to respond "really sorry I just got back from a trip where I lost my phone" & she apologised but I was like "yeah I don't plan to do anymore"
This set me back from driving for another few years. I decided to go for my automatic license, so I could at least drive something, I could always go for my manual drivers licence after the fact. I was sick of waiting.
So I found a driving instructor who specialised in teaching people with special needs. She was amazing. Where I am from you need to complete 50 hrs of supervised driving and I completely my log book hours with just driving lessons. It cost me a lot of money, it took A LOT OF TIME.
My first practical driving exam, I failed within a few minutes because I took a turn too early, having to rebook that was so humiliating (& of course they make you pay the full fee again). However I knew it was a stupid error and something that in Non-test conditions, would not have been an issue.
My second practical driving exam, I passed with flying colours. I had only 1 mark deducted because during my reverse parking, we could feel the back tyres bump the back car park block ever so slightly. I still considered it a massive win.
Unfortunately, by the time I actually got my P plates at age 24, and could drive unsupervised, the person I owed the MOST drives to, my first love, was no longer with us.
The statement: "you get so much freedom when you can drive yourself around" is unfortunately true. It's not just control of your destination that you get, but also better control of your time.
I will tell the story about how I lost my license for a year another time. It's not a fun story either BUT I have a lot to say about having taken so long to get my license, only for it to be taken away during a time when I really needed it.
Also the juxtaposition of my OLDER sister, still not having her license (but making weird meandering progress nonetheless).
The moral of this story is: yes, if you live somewhere that isn't a walkable paradise, I highly recommend you take a step towards getting your licence!
Just say "fuck it" to all the pressure /norms that tell you you have to do things a certain way. The only way is safely. The most important quality you can have with driving is confidence and that takes time!
So I guess this is telling you to give yourself permission to take your time, as much time as you need, to learn to feel comfortable with it. You just have to keep going.
since this is the "no drivers license" website i wanna see everybodys reasons
#i didnt get my license until I was 24#the guilt of getting your license as an adult#adult learner drivers#learning to drive#real talk#beth rambles#my driving instructor and i got super close too#bless you roanne#i hope the universe is treating you kindly#why do you not have a driver's license
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Crimson Obsessions | A Terry Richmond Series
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pairing: Aaron Pierre as Terry Richmond x Justine Skye as Camille DeWaterson
summary: Camille tries to push away her feelings as she navigates her hesitation surrounding her engagement. Terry lays the foundation for the most important part of his plan so far.
warnings: 18+ mdni, dark romance, manipulation, obsessiveness/possessiveness, stalking, angst, mentions of blood and violence, fluff
word count: 7700
a/n: as promised, posted a day early 🙂↕️ (only roughly edited tho lolll) lmk what y'all think of the new POV 👀
Camille’s song: You Right-Doja Cat | Terry’s song: I Luv Your Girl-The Dream
Pt. Four
Camille
Camille woke up feeling refreshed, an undeniable excitement flowing through her. It had been about a two months since she started rotating between Aston and Terry, and the difference in her energy and happiness was stark. And it was all thanks to Terry, the man who made every week vibrant for her. He had a way of making each day feel full of purpose—whether it was high-energy and spontaneous, or laid-back and easygoing. He knew how to balance it all, and Camille found herself eagerly anticipating whatever he had in store next. One day, he was patiently showing her how to swing a golf club as they entertained his clients at Top Golf. The next, they were hunched over case files, dissecting old archives over a quiet lunch. He had a way of seamlessly blending work and play, of making everything feel interesting and engaging.
On other days, he would take her to community events, like mentoring young Black men eager to get into law. Or they would spend hours tracking down secondary sources to support a particularly tricky case. With Terry, even the most mundane tasks became something she looked forward to.
And with each passing rotation, Camille could feel herself slipping further into the pull of her crush on him, which she still refused to fully acknowledge. It wasn’t just his gorgeous face, his sharp intellect, or his easy confidence that captivated her. It was the way he made her feel valued and understood. She felt safe in his presence. And, there was an almost cherished feeling that washed over her when he looked at her, as if she were more than just a colleague to him.
Now, of course, she knew that wasn’t the case. He had plenty of people fawning over him in the office. Especially Stephanie, who hovered around him, doing whatever she could for his attention. Stephanie’s beauty and sex appeal was unmatched in the office. So Camille knew that she didn’t stand a chance. Besides, she couldn’t be with Terry anyway. She needed to finally get her father’s acceptance and protect her family’s financial security. A one-sided crush couldn’t get in the way of that.
The best part of finally feeling rested was that Camille had the energy to dive back into the things she truly loved. The first thing on her list was the early morning yoga sessions led by her best friend, Kali, every Saturday. The classes were always a space where they could reconnect.
Camille and Kali had met during their freshman year at a Black Student Union meeting. They quickly became inseparable, their bond growing stronger with every shared experience, every late-night conversation, and every laugh that made their sides ache.
When Camille moved to Houston three years ago, she was gripped by a crushing homesickness that left her feeling isolated and making friends seemed impossible. It didn’t help that her job at the time was draining her spirit. Each day felt like a struggle to just get through.
She poured her heart out to Kali about how difficult it had been to adjust. Without hesitation, Kali packed up her life and moved to Houston a month later. When Kali’s father, who raised her by himself, passed away the following summer after a battle with lung cancer, Camille became Kali’s rock. She stayed at her apartment for weeks, helping her with chores, managing her commitments, and comforting her through the grief overall.
Through all the highs and lows of their twenties, they had always been there for each other, whether it was celebrating achievements or pulling each other out of the darkest moments. But as time passed, life got busier. Camille’s career demands intensified, and the frequency of their interactions dwindled. Weekends that used to be filled with laughter and long talks now felt like rare treasures.
So, Camille had been counting down the days to this Saturday, eagerly anticipating the chance to spend time with her best friend again. It had been too long, and she was ready to pick up where they left off, to feel that comforting sense of sisterhood again.
Camille got to the studio right at 7 AM, jumping into Kali’s arms as soon as they saw each other. “Bitch, I’ve missed you soooo much,” Kali shouted as Camille pulled away. “We have so much to catch up on. Especially whatever this tea is you could only tell me in person.”
Camille hadn’t yet told her, or anyone for that matter, about Terry working at her firm and the feelings it brought about for her. It was the kind of thing that she was too afraid to discuss over the phone, just in case Aston was in earshot. Since they hadn’t seen each other since Chloe’s wedding, she had nearly three months of stuff to tell her about.
She buzzed with anticipation as the class came to a close. As she wrapped up her yoga mat, Kali waved bye to her last client before turning back to Camille. They squealed, hugging each other once more.
“Cammie, I’m just so happy to see you! It’s about fucking time that Aston gave you a damn break,” Kali scoffed. Camille sighed. Kali had witnessed the entirety of Aston and Camille’s relationship. She was there for her when Camille first found out about him cheating. She was her shoulder to cry on when she went through the heartbreak. When they got back together, she was very vocal about her dislike for him. And she still can’t stand him, even all these years later. It’s gotten to the point that Aston and Kali aren’t allowed to be in the same room, due to Kali throwing a drink on him at Camille’s graduation party. Camille had to beg him not to press charges and Kali had to promise to skip future functions that included him, unless it was their wedding.
But it worked out for Camille in the end. She never had to worry about Aston tagging along to their outings, so she could be as unfiltered as she wanted to be around Kali. No code switching. No tone policing. Just her being herself.
They chatted about minor things as they walked to a nearby coffee shop. They wanted to have their matcha lattes in hand and start their walk in the park before getting into the juiciest updates in their life. Once they got to the park, Kali immediately got down to business.
“Alright, Cam,” Kali said, sipping her drink. “What’s got you glowing?”
Camille smiled shyly. “I kinda have a new boss now. Working with him has been such a relief. I still get cases from Aston, but I don’t work with him as much–”
“Thank. God,” Kali cheered, making Camille playfully roll her eyes.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Camille started again. “But that’s kinda the problem. My new boss has been…somewhat of a distraction for me. You remember the guy I danced with at that last club we went to for Chloe’s bachelorette party?”
Kali’s eyes lit up. “That fine ass nigga with the braids? Who looked like he was gonna fuck you in front of everybody?”
Camille’s cheeks heated up. “Yes, him,” she nodded. Kali gave her a look. “What about him?”
Camille sucked in a breath, “He’s my new boss.”
Kali’s jaw dropped, stopping in her tracks. “That man who owned the club? He works with you?!” Camille nodded, biting her lip. Kali slapped a hand over her mouth, bursting into a fit of laughter.
“Omgggg, Camille! I fucking love this for you!” she shouted, prompting other park goers to look their way. Kali calmed down a bit before grabbing Camille’s hand, pulling her close. “Please, Camille. Please tell me you’re fucking him,” Kali whispered excitedly.
Camille's eyes widened with a mix of disbelief and shock. "Kali! Don't say that! I'm in a relationship," she protested, her eyes scanning the park for anyone who might know them.
Kali wasn’t deterred by Camille’s protesting. Instead, a sly grin played on her lips. “Yeah, and I absolutely hate the relationship. But that nigga from the club?! I’d support that ‘til the day I die.”
Camille groaned, her fingers running through her hair. “I really wish you wouldn’t say things like that,” she muttered.
“Too late, I already did," Kali shot back with a shrug, clearly unbothered. “Now tell me more. Are you at least going to try to take him to bed? Has he tried to make a move on you?”
Camille shook her head quickly. “Not at all. He’s been very sweet about the situation. He pulled me aside to tell me he would keep everything between us. He’s been nothing but professional.” She tried to keep her voice even, despite her cheeks warming from Kali’s lewd suggestions.
Kali’s shoulders slumped, a disappointed frown curling on her lips. “So he hasn’t given you any hints? Nothing?!” She raised an eyebrow.
Camille chuckled softly, shaking her head again. “No, Kali. He’s just been a perfect boss. I’ve been working on some of his cases for over a month now, and honestly, it’s been amazing. Everything’s interesting, there’s no pressure, just the best balance.” She smiled, the words coming from a place of genuine satisfaction. Camille’s stomach dropped as an amused, knowing look crossed Kali’s face.
She leaned forward, her eyes narrowing with a teasing glint. “And how do you really feel about him, Cam?”
Camille shifted awkwardly, looking down at her hands, and mumbled, “I think… I think I have a crush on him.” She couldn’t help but shrink into herself, afraid of what she had just confessed.
Kali’s laughter rang out loudly. “So there’s still hope! Y’all are gonna fuck, I just know it!”
“Kali–”
“Yeah he’s just frontin’ ‘cause y’all are at work, but that man was all over you at his club. You give him the green light and I’m sure he’ll have you folded like a pretzel in no time.”
“Kali…please. I’m engaged. Can we please respect that?” Camille’s voice trembled slightly, her fingers nervously tracing the rim of her cup. Kali rolled her eyes in the dramatic way only she could. “Camille, it’s never too late to back out of that arrangement. I want you happy more than anything. And I don’t know… maybe your new boss is like a wake-up call or something? I mean, a stranger you had so much chemistry with coming into your life again? That could be your way out. Or at least a little opportunity to get back at Aston?” Her eyes searched Camille’s face for a reaction.
Camille’s fingers froze on the cup, her heartbeat thumping in her ears. She stared back at Kali, unsure of how to respond.
Kali’s eyes softened, though her voice still held a firm edge. “I get it, okay? You’ve made a commitment to your family, and I respect that. But an arranged marriage is a big deal, Camille. You have one life. You can’t just walk down the aisle because it’s expected of you.”
The silence between them stretched out as Camille struggled to find her words.
“I’m not saying you should act on whatever you’re feeling, or that it's all about getting back at Aston,” Kali continued, her voice lowering. “But maybe it’s time you started thinking about what you want, and not just what Mr. DeWaterson wants. His world won’t end if you don’t go through with it. And if it does… I don’t give a fuck. You’re my friend, not him.”
After a few beats, Camille spoke, her voice low. “I don’t know if I can just walk away from it, Kali. It’s been planned for so long... My family, his family, everything... I’ve spent years trying to make this work in my head.” She shook her head, her voice cracking slightly. “But when I’m with my boss—his name is Terry by the way—it’s like... I’m able to escape reality and hope for something different. Something more loving, more passionate…,” Her eyes met her friend’s. “But like I said, he’s only been professional. There’s no chance of us getting together. I mean, he’s already sleeping with someone at the office. I can’t–”
“Wait, what?!” Kali nearly choked on her sip of matcha. “He’s that out in the open with it?”
Camille paused, thinking over the interactions he’s seen between Stephanie and Terry. There really wasn’t anything sexual about them. Stephanie definitely liked him and flirted with him all the time. But he just reacted with a cool amusement, nothing that really hinted at something going on outside of that.
“Well…no. I haven’t seen him do anything that hints at that. But Aston said he saw–”
“Fuck him, he doesn’t know what he’s talking about. He’s probably jealous of him and doesn’t want you to get too comfortable with him,” Kali stated with a definitive nod.
Camille’s heart began to race again. Was Aston just making things up? Was he lying to make sure I keep Terry at arms-length?
“Kali, I don’t think he would do that–”
“Camille? That you?”
The deep, familiar voice called out, washing over Camille like a wave. She froze in place as her mind scrambled to determine where it was coming from.
A tall, muscular figure jogged towards them. Though his face was momentarily obscured by the distance, the deep baritone of his voice, the bronze sheen of his skin, and the way his perfectly sculpted six-pack glistened in the sun made it unmistakably clear. It was Terry.
Camille’s gaze swept over him as he got closer, everything seeming to move in slow motion. Sweat trickled down his torso and his ocean-blue eyes crinkled at the corners. His full lips parted, a flash of white teeth widening with recognition. The sight of it all sent an unexpected flood of heat to Camille’s core.
Terry came to a stop right in front of her and Kali. His presence seemed to fill the space between them, his masculine scent drifting into the air. Camille snapped out of her daze, blinking rapidly.
“Hey, Camille,” he said, licking his lips.
Camille cleared her throat, fighting to regain composure. “Terry,” she managed to say. “How are you?”
“I’m doing fine. How ‘bout you?” Terry’s voice was smooth, his words rolling off his tongue with effortless ease. His eyes traced every curve and line of her figure in a way that made her skin hot. She suddenly felt aware of every inch of her skin, regretting the choice of just biker shorts, a sports bra, and an open hoodie.
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She shifted, feeling self-conscious under his gaze. “I’m pretty good,” Camille replied, her voice catching slightly, betraying the flutter of nerves she felt.
They stood there, locked in a moment that stretched on too long. Their eyes held each other’s, the air thickening between them with an unspoken charge. The silence grew heavier, each second stretching taut like a wire ready to snap. Just as Camille opened her mouth to speak, the sound of a throat clearing beside her shattered the bubble between them.
Both Camille and Terry’s eyes snapped to Kali, who stood there with a smirk on her lips, clearly amused by the tension in the air. Camille's cheeks burned with embarrassment, but a part of her couldn’t help but feel relieved. The moment had been too electric and she was grateful for the interruption.
"My fault," Terry chuckled, the rich sound of his laugh wrapping around Camile like a blanket. He extended his hand toward Kali. "I’m Terry. You look familiar."
Kali, smirked and took his hand, giving it a firm shake. “I’m Kali! Yeah, I was at that club with Camille that one time,” she said with a playful gaze that flicked to Camille, her lips curling into a bright, teasing smile. Camille felt a chill of dread settle in her stomach. Please don’t embarrass me, she silently pleaded.
Terry’s eyes lit up, a flicker of recognition crossing his features. His grin spread wider. “Oh shit, that’s right! I’m sorry y’all’s night had to end like that," he said, his tone laced with playfulness and a touch of sincere remorse.
“Oh, don’t worry about it,” Kali replied breezily. "I think something amazing came out of that night. Right, Camille?" She glanced at Camille, her eyes twinkling mischievously.
Terry’s attention shifted back to Camille, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. "Oh, word?" he chuckled. "You’ll have to tell me about that." His eyes locked with hers, making her gulp.
Kali continued with a sly grin. "Are you visiting from New Orleans?"
Terry shook his head with a light chuckle. "Nah, I only check on that place sometimes. But I don’t live in New Orleans. I work here now, with Camille."
Kali’s smile broadened. “Really?! What a lovely coincidence—”
“Right,” Camille quickly interrupted, her voice almost too sharp. “It’s just crazy how small the world is.” She shot Kali a glance, her eyes filled with an unspoken warning. Kali merely smirked, unfazed by the stare. “But don’t let us hold you up from your run,” Camille added, eager to wrap up the conversation that she knew her friend would take too far.
“Nah, y’all not holding me up,” Terry said with a relaxed shrug. "But I’ll let y’all get back to y’all’s girl talk. It was nice meeting you, Kali." He flashed them both a grin before turning, jogging past them to continue on the trail.
Both Camille and Kali stood in silence for a moment, their eyes following his retreating form. Kali was the first to break the stillness, her teasing smile returning in full force as she glanced sideways at Camille. “That little moment y’all had? Oooo, bitch! I thought he was about to turn you every way but loose.” She let out a mock swoon, dramatically fanning herself.
“Kaliiii,” Camille whined as she resumed her walk, trying to brush off the flurry of emotions that had hit her all at once. Kali, unrelenting, fell into step beside her.
“Did you see how he looked at you?” Kali’s voice lowered to a conspiratorial tone. "Girl, he would devour you if you let him." "Ughh, not this again," Camille groaned, her mind spinning. But, was he looking at me like that? Or was Kali just being funny? She couldn’t quite shake the image of his gaze locked on hers, how it had made her feel exposed, yet... alive.
"Okay, okay, I’ll give it a rest," Kali sighed dramatically, making a show of looking away. But her smile didn’t fade. “But... I think you should try to entertain Mr. Terry. Who knows? The universe might be giving you an out from becoming Mrs. McCoy.”
They continued their walk, abandoning any discussion of Terry for other updates in their life. But in the back of her mind, Kali’s suggestion echoed. Was Terry’s sudden reappearance a sign? A chance at real love? Her mind kept circling back to Terry, the way he’d looked at her, the tension between them. Was she making a mistake, choosing to put her family’s expectations and her fiancé’s needs above her own desires? Her chest tightened with uncertainty, the thought of her impending wedding now feeling more like a weight she wasn’t sure she could bear.
Terry
Terry sat in the parking deck of Watkins & Glen, patiently waiting for the arrival of a particular colleague. Terry knew if he came to the office at the early hour of 6 AM on a Monday, only two people would be there: him and Aston. Terry couldn’t believe he showed up at that time every day. No wonder he wasn’t moving up the ladder. His ass-kissing was too obvious.
To keep his mind occupied, Terry thought about how getting closer to Camille these past two months had been absolute bliss. Each moment alone with her was intoxicating, as though it was just the two of them, suspended in their own little universe. She captivated him so effortlessly. Her curiosity, the way she dove into everything with passion, it was all alluring. He found himself lost in the grace with which she moved, always so composed and beautiful, yet there was an unspoken vulnerability that made her even more magnetic.
Her shyness had slowly dissolved, giving way to a new, playful side of her, one that seemed to emerge more and more as they spent time together. It was in the way her eyes lit up when she laughed, in the subtle teasing that had become a part of their easy rhythm. Every time Camille smiled at him, his heart stumbled, driving him further into his obsession.
And Camille, she was falling for him too. He knew it by the way her breath would catch when he was close. Sometimes, when she thought he wasn’t looking, he would catch her staring at him, her eyes soft with affection. And her voice—oh, her voice. It took on that sweet, innocent tone when she spoke to him, like she couldn’t help but let the warmth slip through.
But beyond all of that, what made his heart swell the most was the happiness that seemed to radiate from her more and more each time they were together. He had become her quiet gardener, nurturing her little by little, seeing her blossom with every passing rotation. A flower he was allowed to water, watching her unfold more beautifully with each moment they shared. And for Terry, that was everything.
He was pulled from his thoughts when he caught a glimpse of a familiar Porsche Cayenne rounding the corner of the deck. It reversed into a spot right next to the elevators. Terry’s jaw clenched as he saw Aston open the door of the car.
He had often thought about just killing him to speed up his plan. Tear out his throat or rip out his lungs. Let dogs feast on his remains. It would save Terry a lot of time and energy. But he had no idea how Camille would react to Aston’s death. Terry didn’t think she loved Aston. At least…not in that way. But he couldn’t risk her slipping into a depressive episode. Especially if he wouldn’t be able to properly comfort her. So he refrained from causing him any physical harm. But, Terry was more than willing to cause psychological harm.
He got out of the car, shutting the door softly so Aston wouldn’t notice him yet. He quickly approached the elevator, Aston’s back still turned. Quietly, he peered over his shoulder as Aston looked at his phone. He was already checking betting apps. Terry smirked.
“Morning,” he spoke. Aston’s body jerked, turning to face him with wide eyes. Genuine surprise flickered across his face before quickly being replaced by that fake ass smile he always pulled. “Terry, morning…I didn’t even hear you.” The elevator softly dinged and Terry smoothly stepped past him, making his way inside. “Yeah your head was pretty stuck in your phone so I’m not surprised,” Terry returned, barely containing the smugness in his voice. He didn’t miss how Aston’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly with irritation. God I just want to knock his fucking head off, Terry thought as the elevator doors closed. “I get it though! I used to be on the apps all the time.”
Aston blinked, confused and a tad bit embarrassed as he looked at Terry. “What do you mean?” Terry just smiled and gestured to his phone. “The betting apps. I used to be on those all the time. But now…” Terry paused, letting the silence stretch to add to Aston’s anticipation. “Now, I prefer the stuff that gets you real money.” Aston tapped his finger lightly against his phone, trying to interpret what he was saying. Terry could almost see the gears turning in his head. “Well, the parlays I’ve hit are pretty huge,” Aston stated arrogantly. Terry nearly rolled his eyes. But instead he just shook his head with a chuckle. “Nah, man. I’m not talking about the $2000 here, $6000 there. I’m talking about the shit that could be a down payment for a house.”
Aston laughed in disbelief, “What kind of stuff gets you that kind of money?” Got him, Terry thought, fighting a smirk. “Between you and me,” he lowered his voice, leaning in just enough to make Aston feel like he was getting an exclusive secret. “I host some underground poker shit on the side.” Terry watched his eyes widen, his mouth opening subtly. “Woah…really? Terry, you just don’t seem like that kind of guy.” Terry shrugged nonchalantly. “That makes it even easier for me.” Terry took a few steps back to lean against the elevator's walls. “But, you should see some of the stuff I’ve walked away with. One night, I made three hundred grand.” Aston’s pupils widened. He tried to find words to react, but the elevator dinged. Terry would make sure he had the last word. “But like I said, I host. So let me know if you ever want to play.” He smiled, patting Aston’s arm before stepping out of the elevator.
Terry knew he had him. Aston was a man choked by his addiction, and it was only a matter of time before he took the bait. And take it, he did. A little over an hour later, with the office still empty for the most part, Aston came knocking. A soft, hesitant tap at the door. Terry’s lips curled into a sly smile as he greeted him, his eyes glinting with a mix of satisfaction and cold calculation. I’ll let him bring it up, Terry thought. Let him think he's still in control.
Aston awkwardly coughed, swinging his arms nervously as he approached Terry’s desk. His eyes were shifty, and just the slightest bead of sweat slid down his forehead. He was nervous, desperate. Damn, he must need this money more than I thought. He scratched the back of his neck, a nervous tick that only deepened Terry’s amusement. The guy was unraveling right in front of him.
“So, uh…” Aston’s voice cracked slightly as he spoke, betraying his nerves. “About those games you were talking about? How do they really work?”
Terry leaned forward, folding his arms across his chest, his eyes narrowing just a bit as he studied Aston.
“It's pretty simple,” Terry said, his tone casual but low. “I host them every Thursday night, just me and a few other guys. You send a deposit to lock in your spot, and you’re in for four games. All winnings remain confidential. No IRS. No paperwork. Everything under the radar. Real simple.”
He paused, letting the words sink in, watching Aston’s eyes flicker with a mix of curiosity and unease.
Terry’s voice dropped an octave, darker, heavier.
“But—” He began, fixing Aston with an intense stare. “Anything that goes on there, stays in there. Understand?”
Aston shifted uncomfortably under his gaze, his eyes flicking away to the floor. The words settled in the air, adding to his unease.
“Yeah,” Aston muttered, his voice tight. “Yeah, seems straightforward enough…how much is the deposit?”
Terry let out a soft, humorless sigh, his eyes never leaving Aston’s face. “$30,000,” he said flatly. “And you gotta put up another $50,000, at least, to play.”
Aston’s face drained of color. His eyes went wide, as if the numbers hadn’t fully registered. He took an audible breath, his hand coming up to tug at the collar of his shirt.
“That’s…that’s a lot man…” Aston trailed off. He was visibly rattled now, his composure slipping away. Terry smirked, watching the man squirm.
“Yeah, bruh, no pressure. I know it might be out of the budget for an associate.” Terry’s tone dripped with sarcastic sympathy. Aston’s expression visibly changed. His jaw tightened, his nostrils flared slightly, his gaze hardened. There it was. The envy, the bitterness. Terry could see it clearly.
Terry leaned back in his chair, letting the silence stretch for a few moments, savoring the tension. He had him.
“No,” Aston said, his voice more relaxed, but with a razor-sharp edge. “That’s not a problem. I’ve got more than enough to cover that. I’ll even send it today.” The words came out through gritted teeth, a mixture of pride and barely-contained frustration.
Terry’s smiled, though it didn’t reach his eyes. Perfect.
“That’s great, man!” Terry said, his tone suddenly light and jovial. He slid a notepad and pen across the desk. “Just write down your number, and I’ll send you all the details.”
Aston paused for a fraction of a second, but he wrote his number down anyway. As Aston slid the notepad back, Terry’s eyes caught the brief flicker of hesitation in his gaze. But it was fleeting, gone before it could become a problem.
Aston turned to leave, his body language still tense. But just before he opened the door, he paused to look over his shoulder back at Terry. “And Camille… she won’t find out about this, right?”
Terry froze, the name making his heart beat just a touch faster, but his face never betrayed him. He kept his expression casual, his voice smooth.
“Nope, not at all,” Terry said, his words dripping with casual assurance. “Not from me. Not from you.” Aston nodded, his lips pressed thin as he stepped out the door.
Camille
Camille took her time walking through Watkins & Grant. Not only was it Monday, it was the start of a two-day rotation with Aston. She was ready to dive into the day’s work, but if she were honest, she’d much rather be working with Terry. Despite her newfound enthusiasm for the job, working with Aston was still…draining. His demeanor had softened since her rotations began. He was less snippy and wasn’t as strict with deadlines. But his animosity towards Terry had only grown, a simmering resentment that Camille couldn’t ignore. Initially, she’d thought his sharp comments and tense glances were the result of him still grieving over not making partner, a bitter disappointment he hadn’t quite come to terms with.
But as the weeks passed, she realized his feelings had shifted into an intense, unrelenting jealousy. Aston’s eyes would narrow into icy daggers whenever Terry entered a room. Whenever the team celebrated one of Terry’s achievements, Aston’s hands remained firmly by his sides. It was as if his pride couldn’t bear to acknowledge Terry’s success. And every time Camille spoke about him, even in passing, Aston couldn’t help but drop snarky comments. His disdain was impossible to miss, and though Camille was determined to focus on work, she couldn't shake the discomfort it caused her. But outside of that, Aston was still pretty pleasant. So she just let the whole envy thing roll off her back.
Camille pushed open the door to Aston’s office, expecting to greet him with a simple “good morning.” But as soon as she stepped inside, her words caught in her throat. Aston was sitting at his desk, but he looked nothing like the put-together man she was used to. His usually sharp appearance was now disheveled, as though he’d been awake for far too long. His eyes were unnaturally dilated, the pupils wide and unblinking, while his leg bounced erratically beneath the desk. His hair clung to his forehead, damp with sweat, and he was completely unaware of her presence.
A wave of concern washed over Camille as she took in the scene. “Aston?” she called out gently, her voice tinged with worry. “Are you doing alright?”
His head snapped up in an instant, his gaze locking onto hers in a way that startled her. He had a frantic, almost fearful look. But he quickly wiped his hand across his face, as if trying to reset his expression.
"Morning, Millie," he said, his voice cracking. He cleared his throat and forced a strained, dry laugh. "Sorry, what did you say?"
Camille didn't buy the forced cheerfulness. She took a step closer, setting her bag down on her desk slowly. "Are you okay? You don’t look so good," she asked, her concern deepening.
Aston waved off her concern with a flick of his hand, his smile stretched thin. “Me? Oh, I’m doing great!” he said too quickly, too brightly. “I mean, my stocks went down a little, but it’s nothing to be concerned about.”
She nodded slowly, but her suspicion lingered. Aston was obsessed with his stocks, always checking the market, always fretting over numbers. But there was always something that told her that there was more to it than stocks. Something more risky that had him far too invested and far too tense. She couldn't shake the feeling that he was hiding something.
At that moment, their finances remained separate. Camille paid her half of the rent, her share of the groceries, and contributed to other household bills, but there was no blending of accounts, no pooling of resources. She never had the intention of opening a joint account with him. There was something about the idea that didn't sit right with her. Whatever financial turbulence he was navigating, she hoped it would be sorted before their wedding day.
Aston, eager to steer the conversation elsewhere, cleared his throat and shifted in his seat. "You ready to get started, babe?" he asked, his tone brisk as he passed her a thick stack of papers. Camille glanced down at the pile, already estimating that it was at least 150 pages. She nodded as he continued. “Great. I need you to proofread these contracts. Can you do that by COB?”
Camille flicked through the papers, her brows furrowing as she flipped page after page. She could feel the weight of the task sinking in. Who could possibly get through all of this in a single day?
“That’s a pretty tight deadline...,” she breathed. Aston’s face fell for a moment, a brief flash of disappointment. But he quickly masked it, offering a small, almost apologetic smile.
“You know what, don’t even worry about it,” he said. “Just do the best you can.”
Camille returned a small smile, but her mind lingered on the sheer volume of work. She let out a quiet sigh before sinking into her chair.
“Oh, by the way," Aston’s tone shifted, a strained undertone creeping back into his voice. "I can’t go to lunch with you today. I’ve got a meeting across town that’ll run from 11:00 to 3:00." His words were casual, but there was a subtle edge to them, as if he were trying to brush off a reason he didn’t want to share.
A cold knot twisted in Camille’s stomach at the change in his voice, but she pushed it aside, choosing not to press. "Okay," she murmured, her eyes focusing on the highlighter in her hand.
Around 10:40, Aston sprang from his chair with urgency, his movements frantic. She couldn’t help but watch, her eyes following him as he muttered a hurried “bye” under his breath, his footsteps echoing down the hall.
Something’s not right, she thought, the feeling settling into her gut. The thought crossed her mind before she could even stop it: follow him. Her eyes narrowed as she mulled over the possibility. But that would be crazy, she reasoned. What good would it do to sneak after him? Whatever she found out wouldn’t change anything anyway. And yet, the nagging curiosity to uncover just a sliver more about this mysterious meeting gnawed at her.
But before she could dwell on it further, the blare of her phone ringing pulled her from her thoughts. She glanced down, surprised to be getting a call so early on a workday. Terry’s name flashed across the screen, making her heart skip a beat. A smile instantly tugged at her lips as she scrambled to answer the call, her fingers fumbling with the screen in her haste.
“Hello,” she said, doing her best to sound casual, though her voice betrayed the excitement bubbling inside her.
“Hey, Camille, sorry to call right now. You got a minute?” Terry’s voice washed over her, rich and smooth. She felt an instant flutter in her stomach.
“Yeah, sure! What can I do for you?” she replied, her voice coming out girlier than she intended.
“I left a file I need for this presentation I’ve got in the top drawer of my desk. I won’t be able to make it there and back in time. You think you could drop it off?” he asked.
Camille hesitated, torn between her professional obligations and her personal desire to see him. Helping Terry would mean taking time away from her assignment, something that would surely upset Aston. But the thought of seeing Terry, especially after missing their usual morning exchange, was hard to resist.
“Of course! Just send me the location,” she breathed, her voice catching slightly, a soft smile creeping onto her lips as a deep chuckle echoed in her ear.
“Thanks, Camille. I appreciate it. I’ll send a pin now.”
“Okay, see you soon!” she said, her voice practically bubbling with excitement. Slightly embarrassed at how eager she sounded, she quickly hung up the phone, grabbing her bag with haste. She made her way toward Terry’s office, the joy of hearing his voice still hanging in the air.
But before she could reach the door, Camille was stopped in her tracks. Stephanie appeared out of nowhere, stepping directly into her path with a forced smile plastered on her face.
"Hey, Camille. You know Terry’s not in the office now, right?" Stephanie’s voice came out with an odd, strained edge. Camille blinked, taken aback by the abrupt question.
“Oh, yeah. He just called me! He left something in his office and wants me to bring it to him,” Camille replied, keeping her voice polite. She moved to step around Stephanie, but Stephanie sidestepped, once again blocking her path.
“Really?” Stephanie said, her tone dripping with a sickening sweetness. “I can do it for you if you’d like. Aston mentioned that you had a lot of work to do.” The suggestion hung in the air, as if she were doing Camille a favor. Camille’s brow furrowed, her confusion deepening. Why would Aston mention that to her?
Camille let out a weak giggle to break the tension. “That’s alright, he’s already expecting me,” she said, her voice firm but laced with the tiniest edge of irritation.
Stephanie’s smile faltered just a fraction, the expression slipping for a moment as she frowned slightly, her eyes flickering with something Camille couldn’t quite place. But after a beat, she stepped aside, finally allowing Camille to pass.
Weirded out by the whole interaction, Camille quickly walked through Terry’s office, grabbed the file and made her way towards the elevator. The feeling of Stephanie’s unblinking stare burning into her back the entire time.
That was odd, Camille thought, as she slid into her car. She grabbed her phone, pulling up the directions Terry had sent her. The map loaded slowly, and she took a deep breath, letting it steady her as she clicked her seatbelt into place. Once the directions finally pulled up, she reversed out of her parking spot and navigated the car out of the parking deck, her thoughts drifting as she hit the road.
Twenty minutes later, Camille pulled into a packed parking lot, her eyes scanning the area until they landed on the only figure outside. Terry stood near the entrance, his silhouette framed by the soft glow of the morning sun. He wore a deep purple shirt and well-tailored black slacks, and for a moment, Camille was entranced by the way the colors seemed to highlight the goldeness of his skin. She sighed softly, a wistful smile tugging at her lips as she gazed at him from a distance, glad she made the drive.
I can’t have him, she thought, her heart aching slightly, but it doesn’t hurt to look. To admire. She pulled into a parking spot adjacent to him and watched as he turned toward her car, his smile confident and inviting. She didn’t want to acknowledge her feelings for him, but in moments like this, it was impossible not to.
“Hey,” he greeted as she stepped out of the car and made her way over to him. She gave him a bright smile. “Hey!” she replied, passing him the file. “This is the one, right?”
He smiled down at her, grabbing the file.
“Yes ma’am. Thanks for taking the time to come down here,” he spoke. “I owe you.” Camille’s heart fluttered at the sincerity in his voice. “Don’t mention it, happy to help,” she replied softly, trying her best to not giggle like a schoolgirl. “Have a great presentation,” she said, turning back towards her car.
“Hold up,” he called. Camille brought her attention back to him. “McCoy got you that busy? I was thinking I could treat you to lunch after this? It’ll only take an hour.”
Camille hesitated, chewing on her lip. She really had to get back to work. Terry fake pouted, tilting his head. “Please, Camille,” he pleaded softly. “Like I said, I owe you one.”
Her chest tightened. He really wants me to stay! She thought. And Aston would still be gone by the time I got back…
“Okay,” she said, “Since you asked so nicely.” It’s just a harmless lunch. “I’ll just grab my phone out of the car.
She reached down into her purse as she walked back towards her car, her fingers brushing through the clutter in search of her keys. As she rummaged, her hand brushed something sharp. An unexpected jolt of pain shot through her, forcing her to yank her hand back. It felt like a scalpel had sliced her skin. A deep gash ran across the pad of her index finger, and bright red blood began to bead up, dripping down in fast, heavy drops onto the dark asphalt below. She stared down at the wound in confusion, the sharp sting still pulsing through her hand.
“Huh,” she muttered softly to herself, not fully processing what had just happened. “I must’ve cut myself on my key–”
Suddenly, a new, much sharper pain pierced through her neck, cutting off her train of thought. It sank deep, the sensation burning through her like fire, making her yelp. A split second of agony. Then, as quickly as it had come, the pain was replaced by an overwhelming, mind-numbing euphoria. Her senses were flooded with a pleasure and delight that seemed to drown out everything else. Every nerve in her body seemed to hum with a strange, fulfilling electricity she couldn’t comprehend.
Her vision blurred, the world around her tilting to the side. Her legs felt weak, and she stumbled, her body swaying like a leaf caught in a breeze. She had to fight to keep her balance, but it was a losing battle.
Although her strength faltered, firm arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her close, steadying her body. The warmth of the figure against her sent another strange thrill through her, though she couldn’t focus enough to make sense of it. She could feel the strength of the mystery person, his body solid and real against hers, but the haze of pleasure and confusion made it hard to think.
"T-Terry?" she whispered, her voice coming out weak and shaky, her boss’ name the only thing slipping through the fog in her mind. She reached up, her trembling hand brushing against the chest she was pulled into in a futile attempt to ground herself in something familiar. But the world was slipping from her grasp too quickly, her vision swimming in and out of focus. Before she could say another word, everything went black. The strange sensation she was feeling was her only comfort as darkness consumed her.
Stephanie’s song: Streets-Doja Cat
Stephanie
From the concealed safety of her car, Stephanie watched with a mixture of horror and fascination as the scene unfolded before her. Terry, the man who had her completely under his spell, suddenly and violently sank his teeth into Camille’s neck. The act was so swift, so shockingly predatory, that it left Stephanie frozen. Camille, with a look of confusion, had pulled her bloodied hand from her bag. Then, moving with unnerving speed, Terry was behind her. His teeth punctured her skin with an animalistic precision. Camille yelped in pain, but the sound quickly faded as her eyes fluttered and began to droop. Her body swayed as if she was in slow motion, and she crumpled in Terry’s grasp.
When Stephanie had first decided to follow Camille nearly thirty minutes ago, she had envisioned a confrontation, a way to make her intentions clear. She could see how Camille had developed a crush on Terry. The way she always looked at him coyly. How she would act so clueless to get him to treat her like some fragile puppy. It was a constant reminder that he didn’t belong to Stephanie, even though he's what she craved most. Terry and Stephanie weren’t a couple, but that would change. She would make sure of it. Stephanie could admit it without shame: she would do anything to have him. And that included scaring off the paralegal who had feelings for him. She had to mark her territory, to make Camille understand that she had no place in his world.
But this… this was beyond anything she had ever anticipated. The man she lusted after, the man she wanted with a ferocity she couldn’t control, was something more than human. Some sort of… supernatural creature. Stephanie’s pulse quickened, her chest tightening, but instead of revulsion, an overwhelming wave of attraction surged through her. She couldn’t tear her eyes away from the way Terry’s strong arms wrapped around Camille’s collapsing body, how his mouth moved with such raw intensity against her neck. The sight stirred something dark and primal inside her, making her pussy throb.
God, that’s so hot, she thought, her breath catching. That should be me. The raw power, the dominance in the way he held Camille, it wasn’t terrifying—it was an erotic fantasy come to life.
In a daze, she reached for her phone, her fingers trembling with excitement. She quickly pressed record, capturing the moment as Terry’s fangs withdrew from Camille’s skin, leaving behind two circular wounds. He blinked down at her in shock, his eyes flashing with panic. In a frenzy, he licked the blood from the puncture, as if to somehow erase the evidence, before he swept Camille up in his arms, cradling her against him.
Stephanie’s lips curled into a sinister smile, her heart racing. She stopped recording and sank lower into her seat, knowing that the shadows of the car would keep her hidden. The weight of the discovery settled over her darkly.
I know your secret, Mr. Richmond, she thought, her mind spinning with possibilities. Let’s see how I can use it to my advantage.
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@nayaesworld @slvt4her @writingsbytee @notapradagurl7 @23jammy @kaylaahisthebestest- @theogbadbitch @wabi-sabi1090 @hotgyalaroad @nubiagurllll @lovedlover @dimepiece09 @lavaniiii @simplyzeeka @susanhill @next-bex-bet @sparklytemi @sonotlauryn @ranikyani @loveschrisbrown20 @daddyslittlevillain @blackchickinthedesert @sparklytemi @sonotlauryn @hello-therree @solunaseira @hotebonynearby @key05marie @moebuttta @winorlosetogether @nohatingpplbczhtingpplr
#terry richmond#terry richmond smut#aaron pierre#aaron pierre smut#rebel ridge#terry richmond fic#terry richmond x black character#aaron pierre fic#aaron pierre x black!oc
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John Marston x Reader: Snuggling hcs
big big soft spot for john marston. he's taken over my brain.
rdr2 aged John in this post. this is also a jumbled mess.
mentions nsfw stuff but not in detail. gender neutral.
John is canonically a snuggler. Thank you, Rockstar!!! -Jelly
John's main love languages are acts of service and physical touch.
So, touch him, right? WRONG. It's not that simple.
Initially, no matter what your intention or relationship is with John, any touch that isn't heading straight towards sex is going to make him very uncomfortable.
If he doesn't know/trust you very well, he might get snappy. He'll yank himself away from you and demand to know what the hell you're doing.
If you already have any sort of sexual relationship, he'll interpret it as a come on, even if it's obviously not. Immediately gets all cocky and annoying and tries to domineer over the situation. He's more comfortable with sex than intimacy, so it's easier for him to go in that direction than face his own vulnerability.
It'll take a lot of trial and error.
If he knows you a little better, and you make it glaringly obvious that this is not you trying to jump his bones (you're just holding hands, he needs to chill out), he is wary and doesn't know how to react.
He likes you, so he doesn't default to his typical anger/attitude.
He might become tense, or quiet, or still. ESPECIALLY if other people are around.
It's kind of disconcerting initially. Let him relax into it, and be kind. He's just trying to soak it in.
Be patient - he hasn't really ever received much affection before. He needs time. It ain't easy being traumatized. :,)
The best way to initiate physical contact without scaring him off is post-sex. That's the physical closeness he's okay with, so it's much easier to piggyback off sex than to start from scratch.
Lay with him when he's feeling good from the afterglow. Lean against his shoulder or hug his arm while you share a cigarette.
If that's not your style, catch him in a good mood at the campfire and sit a little closer. Bump knees or something and joke around with him.
Sit with him while he's fixing something on the wagon and pass him nails and tools. Let your fingers brush. He'll get the message eventually.
Now, how does he initiate?
Before you get into a routine/relationship, he can be a bit shy about initiating physical contact.
He'll awkwardly place his hand on your shoulder or knee, but he'll be so stiff. Not smooth at all.
It's best to not acknowledge it, honestly. Let him become a little more comfortable and a little less embarrassed without him thinking you're judging him (poor John)
Might offer you a hand to balance if you're climbing down from a wagon or stepping over something. Helps you off your horse like you haven't been riding half your life.
He likes to caress. John will just kind of run his fingers or his hand back and forth along your skin or clothes.
Eventually, he'll work his way up to TWO hands on you at the same time. (baby steps!)
He'll come up behind you, rubbing his hands up and down your arms. He might even rest his chin on your shoulder and watch whatever task you're doing.
Likes to hug you from behind like this. If he needs attention and you're alone, he'll come up behind you and just lean half his weight on you.
he's heavy
When other people are around, he isn't super affectionate, but will leave lingering touches. Guiding you by your lower back, a hand on your knee, a gentle pat between the shoulder blades. It's sweet.
Behind closed doors, he can be clingy. It's usually only when he's unhappy about something, though.
His day-to-day need for cuddling isn't super crazy, but if he's upset or has been missing you, he'll give you a big hug... from the front!!!
Trust me, it's a big deal. He's letting you see him needing comfort.
Is more than willing to indulge you if you need a hug, too.
Rocks you back and forth.
If you're seeking out touch because you're upset, John places a hand on the back of your head and cradles your face to his shoulder.
When it's bedtime, he wants to unwind from the day close to you.
Canonically a big spoon. It's very hard to spoon him because he always wants to be facing you.
He just likes you :(
If you don't cuddle up to him when you're trying to sleep, he'll grab you anyways.
Also, he's SO HOT and can get quite sweaty. He inevitably moves away in the middle of the night to cool down.
If you wake up before him, please go lay on him. He'll wake up with this lazy grin on his face that will give you butterflies.
Obligatory silly hcs:
I can see him being one of those people who randomly bites/pinches/flicks while cuddling. He likes seeing you caught off guard!
REALLY wants to run his fingers through your hair, because it feels so good when you do it to him. Don't let him do it. He'll accidentally rip half your hair out of your scalp.
If he's helping you climb up something, puts a hand on each of your ass cheeks and pushes. He usually pushes too hard, and you fall off balance.
Will ALWAYS comment when you smell bad, but will still want to hug you. Gets a little butthurt if you do the same.
Occasionally violently twitches in his sleep. If he falls asleep holding you, you might find yourself being jerked awake by his random sudden movements. If you try to move around, he'll grumble at you for "waking him up."
#red dead redemption#red dead redemption 2#rdr#rdr2#rdr x reader#rdr2 x reader#john marston x reader#john marston x you#gender neutral reader#john marston
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Do You Know This (non-canon) Autistic Character?
Propaganda:
This post which includes:
Showcases several traits found in autistic people. These include:
- He stims, in every appearance. Particularly he is known for his little arm gestures when happy or when he refers to his love of cheese. He also exhibits a habit for moving his fingers in a particular fashion, or rubbing his face
- He has different special interests including his love, and knowledge of, cheese, as well as his engineering skills. Whenever he gets into a new career he really devotes his time and energy into it, so much so that he can change his entire house for it (see “A Matter of Loaf and Death”).
- He is really not good in social situations with human characters. He does not observe nuances that are typically easy to observe for allistic people (“I would like, [my] toupee” “Oh, well we take cash or check”), is extremely blunt in regards to what he says to people, and always assumes that people are honest with him (see his relationship with Piella Bakewell, and how distraught and confused he is when she reveals that she was lying to him). His relationship with animals, who commonly communicate non-verbally, is much easier for him to comprehend hence his consistently strong relationship with Gromit.
- Has a tendency to repeat what he’s saying, especially when he’s stressed (see the climaxes of “The Wrong Trousers” and “A Close Shave” especially).
- The shorts imply that he has a very specific routine that Gromit recognizes (“Porridge today Gromit. Tuesday”)
- In “A Grand Day Out” Wallace is shown drawing his schematics. He is shown interjecting his detailed schematics with little puzzles, such as playing tic-tac-toe by himself, which made me think of how autistic people, myself included, commonly have to interject their work periods side activities such as pacing, puzzles, or whatever works best for them
........
On a seperate note away from what this post says.
- He can be easily manipulated by other people and when the Gnomes in Christmas Special of 2024 became evil, he didn't notice until near the end when it was right in his face.
- His romantic relationships do not last long even if in the movie/shorts etc have a happy ending. The only relationships he has a long lasting bonds with are Gromit the dog and Shaun the Sheep.
#Wallace#wallace and gromit#vengence most fowl#nick park#aardman animations#the wrong trousers#autistic representation#autistic characters#poll#polls#tumblr poll#autism#asd#character poll#character polls#aardman#animation#autism in media#neurodivergent
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See, now that you broke down the nuances I can see you're a mature adult with a point and not a child complaining about their fanart being stolen by Hollywood meanies.
It will come down to changing the way we use computers, but in general the golden rule is: always choose open source whenever it's an option. At a minimum, you can browse the reddit comments of people who have looked through the code to find any filth. If you don't require proprietary software for work, Linux is your best friend. It's entirely modular and you never have to install anything you don't want to have in there. Granted, there's a learning curve, but that's the price of freedom. You can also pirate older versions of software you need if you're willing to invest time in learning about cyber security. Knowledge and convenience are always a trade, there are no free meals. You can have an easy time using your computer, or you can have complete control over your computer. Not both.
I'm using my computer for the first time fully since August of last year and holy fuck, everything is prompting me to turn on AI features.
Nightmare. Dystopia. Leave me alone. Fuck off, Copilot.
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The Offside Obsession
Summary: Soccer was everything to Sae Itoshi, his priority, his goal, but then you came in.
Yandere Sae Itoshi, His point of view
A request
Soccer was everything.
Since I was a kid, I never wasted time on pointless things. While others played around, I trained. While they slept, I worked. I had one goal, to be the best. Not just in Japan, not just in Spain.
The world.
I had no distractions. No weaknesses. No attachments.
And then you happened.
I didn’t notice you at first. You were just another person in the background, another face in a sea of people I didn’t care about. But then one day you talked to me.
It was nothing special. A simple exchange. A meaningless moment.
But something about you stuck.
I found myself thinking about you in the middle of a match, your voice echoing in my head as I passed the ball. I hated it. Soccer was my only priority. There was no room for unnecessary thoughts, no space for distractions.
So I ignored it. I ignored you.
But you never dissappear.
Both my thoughts and real life.
Everytime I look up, you were there. Your present became a constant, a quite pull you couldn't shake it off.
And the worst part?? I didn't want to.
This feeling is new.
At first, I convinced myself it was nothing. A minor curiosity.
But then I started noticing things about you. The way you laughed, the way your eyes lit up when you talked about something you loved, the way you were so close yet just out of reach.
I started listening, watching, memorising about you.
I was like an obsessed fan stalking their idol. Except, you aren't even a celebrity.
Though, it wasn't enough.
I needed to know more.
Who you talked to, where you went, what made you smile. It was easy. People were predictable, careless with their information. A few words, a little effort, and suddenly, I had access to your world.
But then, another feeling we're created.
I hated it when others were near you. It irritated me when you smiled at them the way you smiled at me. Did you even realize how reckless you were? Did you know how easy it would be for someone to take advantage of you?
Jealousy?
So I made sure certain people disappeared from your life. Some lost interest. Others transferred schools. A few had unfortunate accidents on the field. Nothing too serious, just enough to keep them away.
You are completely unaware that every step you took, every decision you made, led you straight to me.
I made sure you depended on me. I gave you enough freedom to think you had a choice.
You need help with something? I was the only one who could give it.
You were upset? I was the only one who could comfort you.
You were lost? I made sure I was the only one you could turn to.
Cause in the game of soccer, I play to win.
But in a game of you and me?
There's no referee. No rules. No escape.
Stayed tuned for my next Itoshi Sae x Reader. Fluff
Summary: Rin Itoshi was just a kid when he noticed his big brother's act of coldness went away every time you were near. Sae Itoshi was just a kid when he noticed his heart become warm whenever you talk to him. You were just a kid when you noticed two boys on the playground and it was your mission to annoy the one who never smile.
#blue lock x female reader#blue lock x reader#blue lock#sae itoshi x reader#bllk sae#itoshi sae#itoshi sae x reader#itoshi sae x you#itoshi sae x y/n#sae itoshi#sae itoshi x you#sae itoshi x y/n#obsessive yandere#yandere#yandere obsession#stalker yandere#obsessive thoughts#obsessed#obsession#obsessive love
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