#and would not always be able to make it to class

[alg3a]

muffins

viktor x f! reader

3.8k, MDNI, no use of (y/n)

description: Viktor had been so kind as to agree to help you out with your midterm prep, so you thought baking him muffins would be a great way to repay him. However, an accidental secret ingredient gets in the way of studying.

warnings: Age gap, roomie smut, more story than smut, p in v, sex pollen/serum (with pretty explicit consent), overall jolly good fun, no harm no foul, yippee!

a/n: inspired by @the-hidden-pages story, Human Testing because it’s one of the first viktor x reader fics i ever read and i STRONGLY recommend!

Any student should feel lucky to have the smartest men at the academy as your roommates. Being an undergraduate biochem student who had to work to pay her own tuition, going to lecture wasn’t always an option. That’s when you’d bake a tray of brownies or do some extra dishes and call in a favor from one of your roomies.

It happened all the time, which made you incredibly thankful to have one people-pleaser in the apartment. Jayce was always willing to put aside whatever he was doing and help you out on your Arcane Studies homework or your Bioengineering project. Last semester, finals week consisted of the two of you sitting criss-cross applesauce on the rug of the living room, paper scattered all over the floor as you tried to decipher the grading scale of your Organic Chemistry class to see what the lowest grade on the test you could get was and still wind up with a passing grade (something Jayce had done plenty of times in his undergrad years).

Viktor, on the other hand, had gotten somewhat tired of your constant requests for him to backtrack and dive into knowledge he hadn’t tapped for years now. He was never particularly rude about it, but you were very perceptive. When you asked him to repeat an explanation once or twice, you noticed the growing exhaustion on his face that bordered frustration and you stopped asking for his help going forward. It wasn’t to his own fault, you could be pretty needy sometimes, so more often than not, you just asked Jayce.

Only, Jayce was out of town for a Hextech press conference this weekend, the weekend before you had your Arcane Studies midterm. In a heartbreaking display, he had apologized profusely for not being able to help, inches away from getting on his knees and begging for forgiveness. You assured him none of that was necessary, and that you’d just stay up studying in the library or even reach out to your TA (who you’d never even spoken to before in class or outside of it, and who you were certain would be less helpful than Jayce).

To remedy your situation–even though you pinkie promised him you didn’t need him to–he took it upon himself to ask Viktor to help you cram study on Sunday night, the night before your midterm. While Jayce asked, you did your best to listen from your bedroom, the next room over. You heard some grumbling from Viktor and a muffled, yet compelling “She’s our roommate and she bakes us nice things” from Jayce.

Apparently that last bit must have been very rousing, because shortly after, Jayce was at your door telling you that Viktor agreed to a maximum of three hours of cramming that would begin no earlier than eight at night.

You worked for all of Saturday’s daylight hours, and then finalized your experimental serum for your Advanced Biochemistry project. For the biochem class, you’d been studying methods of enhancing senses for the first half of the quarter and your midterm project involved making a serum that could temporarily improve the performance of one human sense. Around three weeks ago, you and your classmates drew topics from a hat and your fingers emerged with “arousal” on a piece of paper. Needless to say, you were concerned. You thought the serum project would be fairly straightforward, and had already brainstormed ideas for vision enhancing serums or hearing aid serums, but arousal? You had to think out of the box for that one.

When you finished up your last touches to the serum, you were left with enough time at night to get ingredients to bake Viktor some muffins as a sign of your gratitude. You got enough stuff for twice as much as you would’ve made for Jayce and actually stuck to the recipe this time. Keeping Viktor happy was a very delicate ecosystem and there could be no tampering.

It wasn’t that he was a grump or even that he hated you, he was just too busy to want to help and too intelligent to want to backtrack. Once he had even looked at what you were studying and said, “I’d have to go too far back to help you.” That was inspiring.

You poured the contents of your tote bag on the counter.

On your better days, you and Viktor actually got along quite well. Those were the rare days when Viktor got more than three hours of sleep and ate a full meal before two pm. In his best conditions, the two of you were good friends.

The best days were when he and Jayce both come home early enough for you to make them a home cooked meal. Then you’d all curl up on the couch and watch a movie. The last time that happened, Jayce picked some superhero movie you’d never heard of and you and Viktor both fell asleep. You woke up the next morning asleep on Viktor’s chest with four blankets piled on top of you both. Jayce said he knew both of you ran cold, so he took the blankets from your beds. You and Viktor never talked about that night.

The exhaustion of your stressful Saturday had leaked into your studying Sunday, and in a tired stupor, you whisked together all the ingredients for the muffins and poured them haphazardly into the mold. They might not look pretty, but at least they’d taste good.

You pulled the freshly baked muffins from the oven and rested them on the stovetop. The sweet aroma of warm blueberry filled the apartment. It must have roused Viktor from whatever he was working on in his room, because he emerged a full quarter of an hour earlier than your agreed upon study time.

“Hey,” you said. “I made you some muffins as a thank you. They’re still hot, though, I wasn’t expecting you for another fifteen minutes.”

“That’s fine,” he said, setting himself at the kitchen table and sipping from a cup of coffee that had been there since Jayce was still in town. “Would you like to begin now?”

You grab all your study guides and homework assignments and your assortment of chicken scratch notes and slide them over to him on the table.

“Are your midterms cumulative?” He asked, finishing the remnants of his cold coffee.

“No,” you answered. Thank God. If you had to remember everything that was in the last midterm you’d be losing your mind right about now. “Everything past Arcane History will be on the test.”

“Mm. I see.”

He scans your notes for another five minutes.

“I’ll quiz you,” he decided, standing up to check on the temperature of the cooling muffins on the stovetop.

“Uh, okay.” You didn’t typically study by being quizzed, especially when you hardly went to lecture and didn’t even know most of the material. But you didn’t want to risk arguing with Viktor and have him decide to take his muffin to-go.

“Tell me why the Arcane can manifest in such unpredictable manners?”

“Because…” you started to think that maybe going to your TA wasn’t such a bad idea after all. Your TA was just a random graduate student. The roommate that was helping you study now was one of the inventors of Hextech, the researcher responsible for some of the greatest advancements in Piltover’s modern understanding of the Arcane. “...it reflects the intentions of the user.”

“Correct,” he says, affording you a rare Viktor smile. “Would you like a muffin?”

You had intended for the muffins to be entirely Viktor’s, but you hadn’t eaten all day and gods, they smelled good. Plus, it was like a reward for getting an answer right.

“Sure, thanks.”

You watch as Viktor plucks two muffins from the tin and comes back to seat himself at the table. He hands one to you and sorts through the papers you’ve scattered on the desk as he brings a small chunk to his mouth. You do the same.

Something tastes slightly off, but you can’t quite put your finger on it. It’s possible the ratio is off, and in your tired state you added too little vanilla extract or too much vegetable oil. Regardless, they’re not bad at all.

“Your notes are a little bit difficult to–” Viktor stops before finishing his sentence. He pulls out a sheet of paper from the pile and reads it, his eyes widening a bit as he does.

“What? What’s wrong?”

“These notes are from your biochem class,” he says, his eyes flickering up to meet yours for just a few seconds over the piece of paper. “This is an interesting assignment…”

“Oh,” you feel your cheeks growing hot. “Sorry, that’s not supposed to be in there.”

You reach out to take the paper from him, but he pulls it back as you do. He’s still reading it. You’d really like him to stop reading about your own aphrodisiac serum, but your embarrassment is a bit unwarranted. After all, you didn’t make the serum because you wanted it, you made it because it was a graded assignment. Nothing more. So what if you did eventually garner interest in the topic. So much interest, in fact, that you did extensive research into the properties your serum could afford and spent long hours in your lab experimenting with it. Shamefully, yes, you had tried some of it. Mainly to test its efficiency but also out of plain curiosity. You had determined that it was safe, most importantly, but you’d also learned that it tasted horrible. To counter that, you’d added some–

“Oh fuck!” You shout as you scoot your chair so far back so quickly that it topples over. You stumble over your bag on the floor as you sprint to the kitchen.

“Is something wrong?” Viktor asks from his seated position.

“Don’t eat the muffin!” You exclaim as you run to the counter space next to the stove, your heart pounding.

You confirm your worst fear. The bottle of vanilla extract you picked up from the supermarket sits on the counter, the protective seal still intact. Your arousal serum, however, is halfway empty a few inches beside the extract.

You turn around slowly to face Viktor.

“It’s a bit late for that,” Viktor says, holding up the half of his muffin that remains. “Did something happen?”

You eye your own muffin on the table, half eaten as well.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you scrambled back toward the table where Viktor sat, the serum held tight by your hand. “You’re not allergic to anything, are you?”

“No,” Viktor says, eyeing you like you’re crazy.

Come on, just get it out already. You have to tell him, it would be morally bankrupt not to.

“I accidentally drugged you.”

Okay, maybe not like that.

Viktor just stared at you, his expression unchanged. You sort of just wished he would yell at you so that you could get the encounter over with, but no such luck. He just sat, unphased, until he picked up the notes he was looking at earlier.

“With this?” He asks. Even his voice is still even. You knew that if the roles had been reversed you would be fracking out, absolutely bouncing off the walls.

“Yes, but don’t worry I’ve done lots of research on this serum,” you say, taking the notes from Viktor and looking them over. You read the list two or three times, scanning for any sort of antidote for ingestion. You saw none. “How could I have not included an antidote?” You mutter, mentally beating yourself up.

“It’s okay,” Viktor said and you couldn’t even bring yourself to look up at him from your notes. “It is safe, yes? It won’t kill us?”

“No, it won’t, but it’s a powerful aphrodisiac and I added half the serum to those muffins. If my math is right, you’re taking three times the recommended dosage.”

“But I only ate half the muffin,” Viktor counters. Again, you’re shocked by how unphased he is.

“Okay, then one and a half times the dosage,” you shrug off his comment as you look for anything in your notes that might reveal a way to undo this mess.

“I assume this means you no longer wish to study?” Viktor says.

“How are you so calm about this?” You finally burst out, slamming the paper down on the table to look at him.

Big mistake.

Once you see him, you become lightheaded and your knees buckle beneath you. You have to sit down to stop yourself from falling over.

“Are you alright?” Viktor asks.

“I-I’m fine,” you shake your head in an attempt to get some blood flowing to your brain. No luck.

“Since you’re obviously worked up about this, why don’t you tell me how it works and then we can go from there.”

“It’s a fast acting stimulant,” you say, burying your face in your hands. “The chemistry is irrelevant since I have no goddamn cure for it, but it works the same as any other aphrodisiac. It makes you susceptible to arousal and heightens it by three times at a normal dosage, and in our case… nearly five times.”

“Intriguing,” he says, eyeing the muffin that lays neglected on the table. “Such a strange class project. Aren’t there moral quandaries to be had for such a substance?”

“Yes of course there are, which is why I made it so that it only takes effect if there’s already a degree of attraction in place–”

You shouldn’t have said anything. Especially not when you’re so clearly affected by it in the presence of Viktor. Way to sell yourself out.

“So you’re saying…”

You groan out in frustration, but once you look at Viktor you’re reminded of why you had your face buried in your hands. Somehow every feature of his seems five times more beautiful than you normally regarded them. His perfectly angular nose, his narrowed amber eyes, his messy hair which fell in ways you could never recreate on paper…

“I have a feeling you know exactly what I’m saying.” You squeezed your eyes shut. If you couldn’t see him, he couldn’t torture you.

Or so you thought.

A tantalizing graze of his hand on yours shot shivers down your spine. You pulled away so fast that a few of the papers on the desk shifted from the shear force of the wind.

“Don’t do that,” you seethed, sucked your teeth as you pressed your eyes shut so hard that you saw stars.

“Because…it affects you?” His voice was raspy and slow, or maybe that’s just what the serum was making you hear. Every bit of what he was doing seemed five times as attractive as it would normally be.

You’d done such a good job at hiding your feelings for Viktor for almost a year now. Being roommates with someone you found incredibly attractive was no easy task. And now all of your efforts were thrown out the window because of a stupid baking mishap.

“You’re being cruel,” you furrow your eyebrows as you speak, your voice coming out whinier than you would’ve liked.

“I’m sorry,” he stifles a laugh. “Would you open your eyes?”

“I can’t,” you groan, shoving your hands against your face again. “It’s best if I just go to my room and wait it out. Thank you for trying to study with me but I’m just gonna have to accept a shitty grade tomorrow.”

“You don’t have to do that,” he said, his fingers wrapping around your wrists and pulling them down from your face so that you had to look at him. “It’s been a long time since I’ve taken biochemistry, and I certainly haven’t studied aphrodisiacs, but the effects should go away after the serum is put to use, correct?”

You thought back to your experimentation phase. All the nights you spent alone in your lab trying out the efficacy of the serum resulted in the effects dissipating once climax was reached. It had certainly been the least orthodox experimentation phase you’d ever undergone.

“Yes, that’s correct,” you say reluctantly. It takes every ounce of strength you have not to let your eyes explore Viktor’s face, then his long, narrow neck protruding his sweater, his Adam’s apple bobbing with a deep breath, then the sharp clavicle poking from–

Get yourself together.

“If you’re willing to retake the class–a class you should easily pass, given your access to the two most prevalent scientists in the field–then by all means, go to your room.” Viktor pulls his hands away from you, then picks up the muffin, peeling off the paper from the bottom. He picks off a piece and drops it onto his tongue.

“What are you doing? You’re just going to make it worse!”

He smirks at you, then sets the muffin back down. “It’s a very good muffin. You’re an excellent baker.”

Fuck.

“You’re playing with me,” you shake your head in disbelief.

“No, dearest, I am not playing with you,” he says, standing up from his chair, then moving toward you tantalizingly slow. He takes a seat on the table in front of you, then crosses his hands on his lap. “You’re smart enough to recognize the alternative I am offering to you.”

Your heart stops. You look at his half eaten muffin, although more than half is gone now with the addition of that last bite.

“You…” The idea is almost impossible for you to grasp, let alone put into words. “You want to expedite the process?”

“That’s certainly one way of putting it,” Viktor laughs. He reaches for a strand of your distressed hair and pushes it behind your ear.

“But you’re not even attracted to me!”

“What makes you think that?” Viktor says, retracting his hand, only to place it over yours on the desk.

“Because if you were, you’d be much more affected right now. I mean, look at me!” You gesture to yourself with your free hand. “I’m a mess! I’m on the brink of breaking out in a sweat and my hands are clammy and you’re just sitting there!”

Viktor laughs to himself as if he’s in on some kind of inside joke that you know nothing about.

“I’ve had lots of practice in concealing my excitement around you,” he finally says, slowly, seductively, the words dripping from his chin as his cold eyes bore into you.

“What?”

You know what he said. In fact, you understand it perfectly, but you can’t be sure it actually came from his mouth because it seems so perfectly unreal. So dream-like, so idealistic, so fantastical.

“You’ve done a good enough job at hiding your attraction, too,” Viktor says. “I wouldn’t have known if it weren’t for tonight’s incident. Which is exactly why I’ve felt the need to hide my own.”

“You’ve liked me?”

You still can’t wrap your head around the idea.

“I’ve admired you,” he smiles, rubbing circles on the back of your hand, reminding you just how potent your little sex serum really is.

In fact, it’s so powerful that you hardly have to put any thought into leaping up from your chair and pushing your lips against his. Before you can third guess his affection, his hands are interlaced with your hair, pushing you deeper into his lips as his tongue begs to be let into your needy mouth.

Now it was clear to see how much the serum had actually affected him. In mere seconds, his hands grabbed at your thighs and pulled you up onto the table to straddle him with strength you didn’t even know he possessed. His breathy little moans sent you further into madness and you yanked his sweater off of his head, forcing your mouth off of his for just a few seconds, but once that sweater was off, your lips clung together like magnets.

Deft fingers unbuttoned your long sleeve shirt and he pulled it off your arms so quickly that you worried for a second that he might have ripped it. But you didn't care. You couldn’t possibly be concerned with a silly shirt when Viktor was beneath you on the kitchen table like a meal.

The serum didn’t exactly allow either of your minds to comprehend much foreplay. You fiddled with Viktor’s belt and he pushed your skirt up to your waist. Once both of you were exposed, he didn’t waste any time positioning you above his cock.

“So wet for me,” Viktor whined against your bare chest. “Is that the serum’s doing or is it mine?”

“Yours,” you whimper as Viktor slides his tip beneath your folds. “If it were anyone else in the room with me when I took the serum, I’d be unaffected.”

“I’m flattered,” he smiles cruelly as he thrusts up into you.

“Oh fuck,” you whine as your rest your heavy head on Viktor’s shoulder.

He brings his hands to your waist and guides you up and down as his hips meet your core in long, languid thrusts. The serum sets every single nerve on fire, making it seem as if each of his thrusts has the impact of twenty.

You moan muffled strangulations of his name into his neck, which only urges him to persist with his cruel thrusts. The sound of your cunt being abused fills the kitchen and you’re wildly thankful that Jayce is out of town.

“I’ve wanted this for so long,” Viktor pants. “You have no idea.”

You really did have no idea. He hid it so well. You silently thanked whatever force had caused you to accidentally throw the serum into the muffin mix.

“So have I,” you whined against his skin. “Fuck…don’t stop…”

Each thrust is punctuated by the creaks of the sturdy kitchen table below you. His motions become quicker, shakier, and more intense and you can tell he’s reaching the end along with you. Your legs begin to shake and you feel that familiar tickling sensation in your core that the serum does a beautiful job at emulating.

“Viktor, I’m close, I’m so fucking close,” you moan as you lift your head from the crook of his neck. You bring your lips to his and he delivers his final thrusts. As he fills you, your moans echo on each other’s lips, a feeling you never thought you’d experience with your own brilliant roommate.

Your breathing steadies and Viktor wraps his arms around you, bringing you close to him as he tries to collect himself as well.

“You…” Viktor pants, “are forbidden from using that kitchen ever again.”

You laugh as you bring yourself off of him, pressing a kiss to his lips as you collect yourself. “That sounds fair to me.”

[sparkletastic-cookiedough]

Barbara calls Damian-Robin her “little brother”. I’m not using a version of Barbara Gordon that has a romantic relationship with Bruce.

That being said, reincarnating into different bodies probably messes with a lot of things, not just family structure.

//-\\-//-\\

Barbara Gordon knows she’s strange, even before the memories come in.

She’s incredibly smart for her age. She’s enrolled in a class for gifted children, and even then she learns quickly and easily. She’s incredibly advanced for her age. It’s as though she already knows everything the teachers tell her. She’s best at science and math, but she has skills in other places. The first time that she opens a book on Psychology, she feels as though she’s already read it dozens of times.

She learns to hide her intelligence once certain people take notice and start questioning things. After all, no human should be able to do calculus at eight years old, so it’s no wonder a few conspiracy theorists tried to kidnap her…

Barbara Gordon learns how to hack, how to hide her presence, how to use a computer with the same ease she learns everything. Somewhere in her mind, she already knew it.

She learns to run, to evade, to fight back in case a few weirdos try to kidnap her again.

Few things actually feel new to her, but when they are new, it feels wonderful.

She becomes obsessed with reading mystery novels. Sometimes she can predict the ends, but most times she’s on the edge of her seat trying to figure it out.

She has a strange relationship with the idea of Bruce Wayne. He’s a local celebrity, but something about the guy always feels fake to Barbara. She gets the feeling that he’s hiding something, but doesn’t have any proof. At the same time, he feels familiar. It’s comfortable to hear that he’s doing well.

And then there’s Batman.

She loves the local hero. She wants him to be safe, she wants to help him, she feels like she belongs at his side.

It’s completely irrational. No one would let a child out on the streets of Gotham. The thought of someone so young fighting crime makes her tense.

No one except Batman, apparently, because only a few months later, Robin shows up in a yellow cape and elf boots.

Thus, Batgirl makes her debut. If she can take out the nastier criminals, that means Robin doesn’t have to deal with them.

Fighting crime comes as easily as the rest of things- it’s a skill that she feels she’s learned before, and is relearning. Occasionally, she reaches for a gun that doesn’t exist. She tries out pistols at the shooting range at the police station, but none of them feel right.

She sticks to her makeshift Batarangs. Making her own equipment is the perfect blend of familiar and not-familiar. She learns the fundamentals of engineering with ease, then applies them with a bit of trouble. It’s thrilling to learn how to make a grappling hook from scratch, while not having to work too hard to master the physics behind it.

She meets Batman. Instantly, she feels oddly protective of the man, as though she’s supposed to be looking out for him, not the other way around. It’s difficult to express this idea when he constantly beats her at sparring.

Still, she’s better than him when it comes to technology, and she outclasses him by far when it comes to psychology.

She takes on Robin as a bit of a little-brother figure. Something about the role feels natural to Barbara.

This leads her to learning the identities of Bruce Wayne and Dick Grayson. It leads to her becoming their unofficial family member.

She loves Alfred. She cries the first time she meets him, but she doesn’t know why.

Then, she starts strange dreams. Dreams of being a different person: taller, thinner, less muscular. Faces and names are blurs, but are becoming clearer over time.

What’s weird about these dreams, is that many of them are true. She can remember the grand opening of a factory, smiling next to a man she thinks of as her husband, then watching the CEO of a shipping company fall off a stage. The event, as Barbara found out with some digging, was televised.

It actually happened. Arthur McKinley fell off the stage. His stupid green suit is exactly the same as she remembers it.

Some memories- if that’s what these are-aren’t provable, or might be false. She remembers seeing technology that doesn’t exist, a land with a green sky, dancing with a pirate, riding a dinosaur, hundreds of little things that never happened, probably could never happen.

She doesnt tell Bruce. She doesn’t want to worry him with her problems. Something about that logic feels familiar yet again.

Barbara isn’t interested in romance. The guys her age feel really immature. In her dreams, she’s married. She feels romantic love.

She’s never felt that outside of a dream.

Then she dreams of a little baby named Bruce, and she knows just whose memories she’s been getting.

Zatanna Zatara ends up explaining things to her. She’s a reincarnation. Over time, her memories will continue to come in, and her personality will start to blend with past versions of herself.

It’s odd. Some days her body feels entirely wrong. She looks in the mirror and sees a stranger. She writes down the wrong name on a test at school, gets questions on history tests wrong.

It adds up. Eventually, she tells Bruce.

The conversation is long, and full of tears. Bruce learns he doesn’t exactly have his mom back- Barbara isn’t exactly the same. Time has changed them both.

Martha was Bruce’s mom, and Barbara could never be that for him. Bruce isn’t a child anymore, Barbara reading him a story before bed wouldn’t feel the same.

Even after gaining Martha’s memories, Barbara is still different. She doesn’t understand the mechanics of reincarnation, so she doesn’t know why. She just knows she has separate tastes and interests, she has different opinions, she has different quirks and traits.

Then Barbara remembers a summoning ritual- one for the king of ghosts.

Before long, she’s smiling at the Ghost King, reunited once more.

“Hey Danny.” She says.

“Hi, Jazz.”

Royal Bats

DP x DC Prompt

Danny and Jazz always were together in life, and they would remain together as siblings whenever Jazz would reincarnate as a mortal again.

Jazz reincarnated a lot, wanting to experience the different things in those dimensions she chose with a fresh start and no memories. She had many adventures in her new lives, with Danny beside her as her 'Imaginary Friend' whenever she was a kid and her 'Guardian Angel' during the rest of her lives.

This new life she has reincarnated in has her living as a rich woman with a loving husband and a kid. The first time he's seen her have one in her many lives. He couldn't save Jazz or her husband's lives because of Clockwork, who had sent him on a small mission related to time.

When he returned to the dimension with Jazz's new life, he arrived at the funeral for Thomas and Martha Wayne, with their Ghosts behind Bruce. Martha, or Jazz again, had embraced Danny in a hug and told Thomas the basics of who Danny was to her, but before they left, Jazz left some parting words to Danny.

"Look after my son, little brother. Protect him like you how you protect me."

So Danny does. He follows Bruce around while he's training to become Batman. And when Bruce returns to Gotham to be Batman, he helps him with Lady Gotham. With each kid Bruce brings into his family, Danny duplicates himself to help each of them.

Danny had killed the Joker after his resurrection by Bruce when the Clown was alone. He couldn't do it while the Joker was living, as he needed to follow the rules, or else he would have had more paperwork to sort through.

Danny had been telling Jazz and Thomas about their son and what he's been doing about his feats, his children, and his friends. They did support Danny's decisions on killing the Joker. He felt a tug on his core, the tug that happens when he is being summoned, so he quickly said his goodbyes to Jazz and Thomas and accepts the summoning.

What shocks him is seeing that he's in the Watchtower, with the Justice League there, including Bruce and his children. All of his seriousness is drained out of him, and he smiles at Bruce and his family.

"My nephew, it is good to finally speak to you"

[madschiavelique]

A Crown Of Ink : Chapter 9 - Death

summary : maybe it is time for reader to move on from patterns that are now useless and reconsider things

content warnings : some angst, then some comfort, then more angst, then more comfort, some crude language an mentions of harassment

word count : 6.1k

author's note : okay i think i might write my old bg3 requests still sitting in my inbox after this but!!!! im excited to write the next chap

proofread by the lovely @yaffles-world <3

masterlist : here

taglist : @doctorho @6selkie @yunloyal @kryscent @hypocritic-trash-baby @kapitankarate @a-lovers-card @ababanerb @lolixsstuff @forget-me-not-my-dear @smolanchovy @shugar0cone0alt @harrys--ferret-blog @suuummerrr @stillinracooncity @noxturnalmoth @dlbitch @cloufire @csolya @kathyholdsagrudge @furblrwurblr @potatointhedirt @atrocioushaircut @ren-ni @schrodingersraven @urmommt

You had spent your Saturday recovering, not without frustration. It was a waste of time, you thought. You could have taken advantage of a day without any classes or work like that to study and make more progress, but Selene had come to visit you, worried.

She officially met Sky, who had always admired her since her first lessons with her. Selene had come to your bedside, placing a gentle hand on your forehead for a moment, then letting it slide down to your warm cheek. She sighed, familiar with your overworking habits.

She asked Sky about your night, about the prescribed treatment, and Selene couldn't help but exchange a knowing glance with you when Viktor was mentioned, especially for such chivalrous deeds. She smiled a playful ‘see, I told you so’ which made you pull your cover over your head in annoyance.

When she left, Sky came back to you, bringing you a chicken broth to restore your health, which she hoped you'd consume to the last drop.

"I'm sorry it had to come to this and calling them, calling him. But..." She sighed, watching you finally eat something with relief. "You were working yourself to death, and with such a pace, you probably wouldn't have been able to pass the exams at all if you'd kept going."

You swallowed your mouthful with difficulty, a small knot of shame and regret tightening it. You'd been so obsessed, so fixated on outdoing yourself and winning back your number one spot from Viktor that you'd become nothing more than an information-gobbling machine.

You didn't even need it, you'd just decided to get ahead on the next year's syllabus in the hope of impressing in the papers and showing your dedication. How could you be so stupid? 

"Your state was deteriorating visibly..." Sky reflected, looking down at her hands before only meeting your gaze for a moment. "You really scared me, you know."

Your heart split in two. You placed your lunch tray on your bedside table, taking Sky's hands in yours and seeking her gaze despite her bowed head.

"Hey," you murmured in your tired voice as you smiled softly at her when she looked back at you. "You did the right thing, Sky. Without you..." you sighed, thinking back on your stupidity, "I don't know where I'd be right now. This was going to eat me alive until there would be nothing left of me but a white chalk outline on my desk."

She smiled softly, squeezing your hands. Her eyes glistened, her chin trembling slightly as she took off her glasses.

"Oh, Sky..." You pulled her into your arms, holding her close. "I'm sorry."

You couldn't imagine how tired she must have been, seeing you wasting away like that, not listening to her, not hearing her. She had her own revisions, her own things to do, and you had made your problem hers.

You could feel her forehead wrinkling, her hands trembling slightly around you as she twitched.

Since when did you become such an important part of someone's life that they cared that much about you?

What would have happened if, for one more year, you'd never had a flatmate? And if that flatmate hadn't been Sky, would she have had even an ounce of patience like your friend?

You'd fucked up and nearly gone off the deep end, and Sky had done everything she could to avoid it.

"I promise you to never do that again," you vowed, pulling away from her to run your thumb over her cheek and wipe away the tears. "Please, don't cry on me. Cry on... I don't know, Heimerdinger's hairstylist."

Don't cry for me, I'm not worth a waste of tears, not yours.

She laughed nervously, her eyes going to the ceiling. "I don't know why I'm crying, really, this is..." she sniffed, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand, "this is stupid."

"No, it's not," you smiled, "It's good to cry."

She raised her eyebrows, wiggling her nose and shrugging. "Well, you never do."

"That's because I sold my lacrimal glands," you chuckled, trying to lighten the mood by joking.

And it worked - she laughed, the sadness slowly evaporating from her face. "So you have no tears, but you still have your heart, right ?"

You closed your fist, banging it against your chest. "It's a dusty engine, but it does its work."

"Well," she stood up, "I hope it can still feel something."

You observed her for a moment, picking up a saucepan and filling it with water. No doubt to make coffee, or at least tea to ward off your addiction and prevent your mechanical heart from overheating under the caffeine. No amount of Piltovian gold could offer you anything like Sky's sweetness.

"My heart's full of room for the very few friends I have." You picked up your bowl of broth again, its warmth cupped against your fingers. "Its aorta is named after you."

She turned to you, smiling, her eyes filling again with tears as she breathed in. 

"You can't just say things like that and not expect me to ruin a box of these," she described movements in the air with her hands in ridiculous, exagerated swirls, "silk-soft tissues they have here."

"Their toilet paper is so thick and soft it feels like we're using pillows," you sneered before blowing on the bouillon.

"Right?!" Sky exclaimed, "It's only been like, a month and a half since I've been here and it all feels so fancy. Everything is so... clean."

"I know!" You laughed, "It's infuriating. The streets barely have a scratch, the buildings have colours straight out of a kid's colouring book, and they have trees."

She sighed, visualising the vegetation the city had before her eyes fell back on yours. "You never get used to it, right?"

You swallowed your mouthful of broth, pressing your lips into a thin line. "Never."

She leaned back against the worktop, watching you for a moment. "Seriously though." She tilted her head to one side. "Don't ever do that again."

You smiled, bringing your forefinger and thumb to your ear and pressing on the lobe. 

It was a custom in Zaun to pledge your word. In the Undercity, you pressed your lobe as if you were piercing it, to imaginatively seal in the skin a ring other than the one on your finger. However, everyone knows that if you pull too hard on a piercing, you can tear the flesh, and find it difficult to retie the skin so that it can be pierced again. So the promise was made with a symbolic ring, anchored in the skin, that the promise would be kept.

"May my flesh tear apart if, by misfortune, I betrayed," you recited.

During the rest of the last week of classes before the exams, you resumed a much more normal revision routine than the original, much to Sky's delight. You'd revise with her in the afternoons outside class, asking each other questions about the subjects you shared while you were trying not to die laughing from the stupid ways you looked with your facemasks during skincare time.

When Friday came around, you decided to go to the library again. Unconsciously, it had become a ritual. With Viktor or without, you intended to surround yourself with knowledge as immense as possible.

You went and sat down at a table, alone, while many students who had come for the same reason were already crowding most of the available ones. You took out your things, rereading your index cards for the umpteenth time until you were almost ready to recite them by heart if the need arose.

You couldn't help but lose concentration when you heard your name spoken in the distance, coming from voices that weren’t familiar to you, further behind your back.

"And to say Viktor got put with her on Heimerdinger's subject," one said, chuckling.

"I wonder which of them pulls their hair out more in each other's company."

You tried not to think about it, but since, for once, the conversation wasn't all about the walking street lamp, you couldn't help but let your ears hang close to their mouths.

"Did you see her the other day? A vision of the apocalypse. Hollow cheeks and dead eyes like she hadn't eaten in a month."

"Gotta have hollow cheeks to suck the teachers better," her classmate sneered.

Your jaw tightened, trying to ignore their remarks. This wasn't your first time hearing such things - the previous two years hadn't been as gentle as this one, even if Viktor had caused a few problems with his arrival.

"Can you believe what she did to Tyler?"

"She's an animal." They both laughed, causing you to sink back into your chair.

"How do you think Viktor handles her?"

"He doesn't, she's just a handicap to him and he seems to have an embarrassing enough one as it is."

You inhaled. Someone will probably tell them to be quiet so as not to disturb the peace of the library. You hoped.

"Who's a handicap?"

Your eyes widened as you suddenly turned around. Viktor was standing there, facing them, both students suddenly looking very confused and ashamed.

"Viktor," one of them laughed nervously, "this was just a joke, she..."

But the student didn't have time to come up with an excuse. Viktor raised an eyebrow before speaking.

"She's an incredible person who no one can defeat," he informed them, the latter two lowering their eyes on their notes suddenly invested in their revisions. "Except me."

He punctuated his sentence, turning away from them and meeting your gaze. He seemed surprised, not expecting to find you there, at least not doing nothing when such needlessly cruel nonsense was uttered in your name.

Inevitably, of course, he moved towards you.

Except me.  The phrase made you roll your eyes for a moment before you tried to read information from your notes that hadn't needed reading for a long time. 

He sat down opposite you, keeping his hand on the pommel of his cane. "Your name seems to be on everyone's lips, Miss."

"What can I say," you sighed, "the obsession they have for me is an undying addiction."

However, Viktor didn't seem amused at all.

"Why do you let them say such things about you without lifting a finger?"

You bit the inside of your lip, feeling the pressure of his gaze on you as your eyes scanned uselessly over your revision sheets. 

"It's not the first time I've heard that kind of comment about me," you confirmed without much interest, "I'll survive it."

"So you spend most of your time worrying about the injustices other people experience but you push your own under a doormat?" Viktor summed up, not seeming genuinely thrilled at the idea.

"If I could push the injustice that Tyler is by his very existence off the face of this world, I'd be stepping on some rich blonde aristocrat every time I left and returned from home."

But Viktor still wasn't laughing, far from it. When your eyes finally met his, they were dark.

He sighed. "Are you trying to punish yourself for something by neglecting yourself so much?"

I'd like to forget more than anything else in the world. The thought was taking over your soul, eating away at you like a gangrene with an insatiable hunger.

"Of course," you chuckled, exaggerating a falsely happy tone.

"Stop this." His tone was firm.

"Stop what?" you questioned.

"Trying to make something funny out of this."

You frowned, raising an eyebrow. "What? You're not feeling in the mood for our ritual chit chats?"

"Do I look like I'm joking around right now?"

His eyes had the same gleam, carried the same weight as when he'd held you in place in your bed just a week ago. You almost gulped, speechless. Why was he reacting like that? Why was he worried about you?

You lowered your eyes, licking your lips as you returned to your notes.

"Fine," you admitted, dropping your sarcastic tone. "I guess I owe you for saving my life, anyway."

It didn't sound like it, but it was probably the closest you'd come to a ‘thank you’ for him so far. He seemed surprised that you were finally cooperating in the conversation, that you were at last sending him a very subliminal magic word.

His shoulders slumped, as if the idea of being angry with you was stupid.

"How are you feeling?" He finally asked.

"I'm no longer sick, if that's the question you meant to ask."

"It was, but also," he brought his cane up between his legs, clasping both hands on the pommel as he came to rest his chin on it, "I just wanted to know how you are doing."

Why are you doing this? You were thinking back over the last few weeks. His questions during the power cut, the attention he'd paid to you, staying awake all night by your side to make sure you were taking your medication properly, and now...

"Well," you swallowed, these thoughts unsettling you for a moment and sending a foreign warmth into your belly, "the exams are approaching and I think you've had quite the close look on their effect on me so... yeah."

He considered you, tilting his head to the side until his cheek was the one pressed against the back of his hands. He scanned you, his gaze sending a warm wind up your spine.

"You're still on the treatment, right?"

The horrible powder you had to mix in a glass at least twice a day wasn't the moment you were looking forward to most in your daily routine, but you did it anyway, under Sky's sharp eyes.

You remained silent, just to see how Viktor would react and whether, as he had dictated, he would make sure you stayed in bed no matter what.

Faced with your silence, he raised an eyebrow as he straightened up, finally wrinkling his forehead as he frowned.

"Right?" he repeated, almost menacingly.

"Relax." A nervous chuckle escaped you. "Yes, I'm taking it."

He sighed in relief at the news, while you shook your head in confusion.

"You're putting all this effort... for me? Why"

The phrase sounded alien in your mouth, as if you weren't worth the time or energy of such dedication. He gazed at you for a moment, his eyes roving over your index cards.

"You know why."

"Because you can't have your best rival go against you while she's sick?" you recited.

"Because I don't want to be your rival."

You found this answer profoundly absurd.

"What do you mean-" But he cut you off, annoyed.

"What do you want, hmm? To become Heimerdinger's assistant?"

Of course, you thought, but the way Viktor had said it sounded... easy, too easy. Or at least, too easy for you.

"I don't intend to be his assistant, and I'm going to tell you why."

He stood up, walking around the table until he was beside you and leaning in slightly.

"Because I've already been his assistant, and I stopped."

The words echoed inside you, like the cracking of something you thought was indestructible. Your lips parted in shock, watching him with huge eyes as he straightened up.

"In any case. I wanted to make sure that you'd be back in good shape." He began to walk towards the library exit, turning one last time to give you a playful look. "And now that I'm sure you'll be in full shape, I know I don't need to hold back, hm, rival?"

He turned away, heading for the big door, leaving you with a short-circuited brain. What did he mean by "already been"? What did he mean he had stopped? How had Viktor ever been Heimerdinger's assistant?

When the sentence finally reached your mind after a long travel from your ears, you gathered your things in a flash as the questions began to fly and you almost ran to catch up with him. You caught up with him in the corridors, under the astonished gazes of all the students.

"What?" you asked, out of breath from the sudden exertion and the gust of wind the news had knocked from your chest.

He turned to you, slightly surprised that you'd practically chased after him. He'd probably expected you to sit at your table, mulling things over until the questions got too much for you and you decided to come and see him after a day or two of mental torment.

"You've been Heimerdinger's assistant?" you repeated, adjusting the strap of your satchel on your shoulder.

He shrugged, turning away from you. "Yes."

Was he really just going to leave like that? Leaving you in agony for answers you wanted more than anything? No, it wasn't going to be like that.

You grabbed his wrist, much to his surprise, and pulled him with you into an empty adjoining corridor. Once you were out of sight, checking from one end of the corridor to the other to see if anyone was there, you finally regained his gaze.

There was something in his eyes, like a hint of something that kept his lips parted until they closed and his eyes lowered to your hand still gripping his wrist.

You let go, the heat of shame spreading across your neck and cheeks for a moment as you took a step away, crossing your arms over your chest.

"When were you his assistant?"

He leaned against the wall, sighing as he stared at you.

"You do remember Jayce's trial, don't you?"

How could you forget? You hadn't been present at the trial. Selene had invited you to come as it concerned your friend, but you were too afraid of the aristocratic eyes and the pressure they would put on you.

The story remained vague. Due to special circumstances that remained under the security and secrecy of the administration as to the extent of Jayce's activities, he had been allowed to stay at the academy.

"Yes."

"By then, I had already been Heimerdinger’s assistant for a month.."

You now were certain you'd never seen him before. It was just one month into your summer holidays, and you had gone to Zaun to find Eris. Your chances of running into him were almost nil, no doubt about it.

"How did you get to become his assistant?" you quizzed.

He shrugged, and that simple movement made you want to scream. "I suppose he must have liked my assiduity enough to take me on. That and the fact that, with his little legs, I was bound to walk at his pace," he joked.

You held your breath in your lungs for a moment, before releasing it. He didn't seem to be lying, at least about the only serious part of his sentence. He was undoubtedly the best choice for Heimerdinger in any case.

However, it seemed to you that it wasn't so much exasperation that you were feeling - you were trying to understand what the feeling was... a relief, but not really about the fact that the assistant's place was free, no, a relief about Viktor that you couldn't really place at the moment.

"Why did you stop?" There was no longer any frustration in your voice, just a new-found curiosity.

Viktor seemed taken aback by your new intonation, straightening slightly against the wall. "It didn't interest me anymore."

What could he have found that was better? The thought, at last, that Viktor's aim was not to be an assistant for the rest of his life, crept into your mind. Viktor seemed to pick up on it.

"See? I told you we didn't have the same goal."

You finally realised what that feeling of relief was: you didn't have to hate him any more. You no longer had a reason to try to outdo him, no longer had a valid justification for becoming number one again. But why was it such a relief? There was rarely anything more gratuitous than hatred in what you knew, and it should have been the same for Viktor, so why was it such a relief not to have to hate him any more?

Hating him served no purpose, no motivation. It was useless, and what do you do with useless things?

You took half a step towards him.

"The truce you suggested, have you come up with any clauses?"

His eyebrows rose, his eyes widened. He lifted himself off the wall.

"Um no-" he began, but you cut him off.

"Find some, and I'll consider them."

And with that, you took off, leaving Viktor speechless. 

You moved quickly, trying to get home as fast as possible. You were afraid that the street air, so pure and fresh, would wash away your conclusions and fuel a hatred that no longer had any reason to exist.

But you didn't go home straight away, making a diversion to Emeline's shop. As soon as you entered her shop, she didn't hesitate to jump on your neck and give you a hug.

"My little lamb," she enthused as she squeezed you until your ribs broke before cupping your face as if to examine you, "are you feeling better? You gave me quite a fright, you know! When your friend came to visit me and told me you were ill I nearly closed up shop to come and see you myself."

"Everything's fine," you laughed, squeezing her arms, "I've almost completely recovered!"

You'd decided that, after your chat with Viktor and all the effort you'd put into your revision, you deserved a little something to comfort you.

After a little chat with Emeline, she packed two pastries, one for you and one for Sky. Of course, she didn't forget to fill you up with an extra small packet of sweets that would have gone unsold during the day.

When you returned home, you greeted Sky with a smile and raised the two bags of treats to your head. She smiled in surprise.

"To what do we owe this feast?" she asked.

You shrugged. "Let's just say I've made resolutions for the better."

You'd been laughing all evening, stuffing your faces with these delicacies as you both took a well-deserved break from studying.

Your eyes turned to your tarot deck, you'd forgotten to draw any cards lately due to your revisions, so after wiping your hands full of sugar, you took the pack in hand.

“I see you pulling one almost every morning,” Sky remarked, lying on her stomach on your bed while you were cross-legged. “Why do you do that?”

You pulled out your cards in your hands. “To have a leitmotif to follow during the day. Although to be quite honest I don't follow their advice every time.”

She laughed softly, knowing by now your stubbornness like no other. “That doesn't surprise me at all.”

“Yeah well,” you smiled in turn as you shuffled the cards, ”some of them are not the best cards to wake up on to in the morning.”

So you cut your deck as usual, and looked at its underside. You raised your eyebrows.

“Just like this one.”

You showed Sky the card: Death.

She winced, her eyebrows furrowing as her mouth formed as if she were pronouncing the letter x.

“Okay, I get it,” she said, shaking her head. “Is it literal? I hope not, right?”

“Nah it's pretty safe.” You laughed. “The description of its meaning is in the little booklet.” You pointed to it with your chin, and Sky grabbed it, flipping through until she found the Death page.

“Transition. Underworld. Flux. Occultism. Letting go. Evolution requiring liberation. Metaphorical death.” She read. “Off to a great start apparently.”

You chuckled, observing the card as she continued reading. “Death moves across a field with a slow, steady march. A king lies dead. He represents the old systems of order cast aside. A bishop begs for mercy, a young girl turns away in fear and only a curious little girl looks up to greet death. She has not been taught to fear it.”

Your thumb passed over the little girl's drawing, your heart clenching. 

“A ship sails away, heedless of death's march. A sun rises between two towers to reflect resurrection and new beginnings. All endings give way to new possibilities. Transformation leads to renewal and growth.” She raised her eyebrows. “Ain't as bad as I thought it would be.”

“Yeah,” you considered, thinking back on your day and the fact that the cards were pointing you in the right direction, ”indeed.”

Exam week was over. You'd had absolutely no trouble at all with any of the exercises. All the subjects were in the bag and you were finishing virtually ahead of schedule in every exam room.

Today was the day of results. The teachers had spent the weekend correcting everything, and the results boards had finally been displayed.

You woke up feeling lighter than you thought you would. Since realizing that there was no longer any point in chasing Viktor to victory, you'd relaxed.

You went down the hall with Sky, passing the student mailboxes for a moment so you could check if either of you had received anything.

You opened the metal door to a single letter, sealed with a metallic black wax seal you knew all too well: Eris.

You took the key to your apartment, using its teeth to open the envelope and take out the letter, which you brought to your nose.

Her letters always smelled of the essential oils and herbs that constantly appeased you. Without further ado, you unfolded the paper and read its contents.

My sweet friend,

I thought you were a lost cause in friendship, but I guess this year the wheel is really turning on your side. I'm delighted, and I imagine the same goes for Selene. I'd love to meet her, that Sky, she sounds absolutely charming. I'm guessing, though, that the day with your Five of Wands must have been no picnic, especially if - from what I understand - Emperor Viktor is to blame. But I'm sure that the Immeasurable Grandeur of the Prestigious Piltover Academy will crown your success.

You giggled to yourself as your eyes passed over the elegant, forced curves that Eris had taken care to add in response to your own inky bows.

I miss you so much. You know how the days are here in Zaun; I open, sell and consult, and close in the evening before any trouble starts. I'm paid with golden trinkets, new flowers to dry and other plants from other regions. I have managed to get some new customers, though, and not the least important ones. Renata Glasc herself has been to my shop.

You'd already heard of Renata Glasc, an ambitious woman who was growing in influence on the streets of Zaun. She wasn't a Chem Baroness, but at the rate she was going, it looked like she was well on her way to becoming one.

In fact, it's through her that I'm hearing about worrying things here. Common for Zaun, you may say, but I can't help thinking the worst. I'll tell you about it myself when we meet. I'm planning to come here around December 23, so let's meet at the usual bridge at three o'clock. I'll be staying with you for a few days. I can't tell you more. But I've lit a candle for you, wishing you success and good health.

I look forward to seeing you again, my dearest trouble,

Eris.

What could she possibly be worried about? The situation was invariably complicated in Zaun, but what could it be that she was worried about?

You carefully tucked the letter into your bag, heading out to the shuttle stop.

“Not too stressed?” Sky asked.

You huffed, a cloud of warmth rising into the air. The cold had been gaining in intensity for over a week, and all the students at the academy had donned their scarves.

“No.” you replied, confident. “You?”

“A bit,” she admitted, her breath trembling slightly.

“Hey,” you pressed your shoulder against hers as she turned to face you, ”you've got this. I know you do.”

She nodded, smiling at you as the shuttle arrived. The journey was swift, some students over-excited at the prospect of their results, others apprehensive about what was to come.

As you arrived at the golden gates of the academy, you noticed that neither Viktor nor Jayce were in sight. Perhaps they had decided to go to the academy later?

The group of students walked up to the scoreboards, an army of others already huddled in front of them.

Sky went in search of her name, while you breathed in, waiting for other students to pass before you.

You didn't know what awaited you at the top of the board, which name would be at the head. Did it still matter? Yes, it probably did, or it didn't. Did you want it to matter? Probably not. But did your mind keep wandering? Endlessly.

What if Viktor was still number one - would you be disappointed? What if you were number one - would you be satisfied? And if neither he nor you were number one, would you be revolted?

“Look who it is!”

That voice alone was enough to make you frown, raise your eyebrows and lower your eyelids in boredom.

Tyler.

You turned to him for a moment, him seeming pleased that you responded to his voice as you rolled your eyes and sighed.

“What do you want, blondie? Searching for a new name on the boards to torment?”

He chuckled, stepping toward you. “You don't change a winning team, darling. Have you found your place at the very bottom of the ranking?”

It was your turn to chuckle, turning to face him. He had no idea about your academic results, it seemed. 

“Tyler you have as many neurons as you have eyes, and they're both fighting for any kind of connection.” You turned to the bulletin board, stepping forward slightly. “Do them mercy and close your eyelids for all eternity before we have to deal with a rain of fire and the horsemen and...”

But you didn't even finish your sentence, the words dying on your lips as your eyes came to rest on your name.

First place.

You were back in first place. Eyes and mouth wide open, you kept blinking to make sure your vision wasn't failing you. And the name underneath... 

Viktor.

Your scores were almost equal, yours barely beating him.

“Told you I wasn't going to hold back.”

You turned towards the voice, the tinkle you now knew too well of his cane echoing on the floor. He stood there, serene, a small smile on his face before his lips pressed into an inverted grin and his eyebrows raised.

“You fight well, Miss.”

You couldn't help it - you cracked a smile at him. And Viktor seemed astonished, as if he'd never seen such a thing happen. No stupid remark, no pettiness behind your drawn lips, just sincere amusement and joy.

“What the...” Tyler's voice died in his throat as he took in the bulletin boards, turning to you. “How did you...”

You turned to him, his sole presence now not even enough to ruin your happiness and relief. “As if you could reach me,” you replied with a triumphant smile, walking out of the crowd to join Viktor.

Once you got away from all this tumult, he nodded. “You got first,” he remarked, “congratulations.”

You observed him for a second, his posture reflecting a sort of disappointment. Was it from losing? Or was it from the fact you seemed so happy in your rivalry with him? You sighed, rolling your eyes.

“Quit it,” you pronounced with a smile, shaking your head slightly. “We share this crown, and you perfectly know that.”

He said nothing, just gazing at you for a moment. There was this gleam, the tickling of a smile ready to be born on his lips as the satisfaction that, maybe, these ink duels you were both fencing would wash away and let something different be born from them. 

He was apprehensive about saying something, but Jayce came towards you both.

“Ah, Jayce, exams went well?” You asked, knowing without a doubt that he didn't have to worry about his results.

“Oh yeah, perfect.” He nodded, pressing his lips into a thin line, his eyes darting from yours to Viktor's, surprised that you weren't quarrelling. “Say, hum... can I talk to you guys for a minute?” 

Viktor and you exchanged a confused look, before ultimately following him.

“A masquerade?” you repeated, as if the word had never grazed your lips before.

Jayce had brought you to a room in the Academy where you could all talk without hearing the multiple cries of students as to their result. And considering what he had to discuss with you, he'd done the right thing.

“It's this thing Mel is invited to,” he explained nervously. “All the people of high aristocracy will be there, counselors, lords and ladies... Please, can you both accompany me to it?”

“As your dance partners?” joked Viktor, frowning.

“No, Mel's already my partner. But, she said that there would be no opposition for you both to come as well. You're the,” he seemed to search for words for a moment, ”croom dé la cram?”

“Crême de la crême?” you suggested.

He pointed at you, glad you understood. “Yeah, that. La crême de la crême of the Academy. Such prestigious students as the both of you sharing the top of the board deserve to be in such an event.”

“So you want us,” you pointed repeatedly between Viktor and yourself, ”to come to this event because you're too nervous to go there by yourself?”

The interested party scratched the back of his neck, sniffling before looking at you both with puppy-dog eyes. “Yeah?”

“Aren't you supposed to have a partner to come to a masquerade?” Interrogated Viktor.

“I thought you two could... go together?”

You chuckled, your mouth hanging open. You exchanged a bewildered look with Viktor, who didn't seem to be too upset by the concept.

“You're joking, right?” you asked.

“Please just-” he didn't finish his sentence, “put your bickering aside for one evening. You don't even have to show up together if it suits you better.”

“I don't see any problems with it,” Viktor shrugged, indifferent. “When is it?”

"Tomorrow night."

“Tomorrow night?” You exclaimed. “Jayce, if it's a society gala, I've got nothing to wear.”

He reached into his own wallet, pulled out some bills and handed them to you.

“Here, I'm sure you'll find something convenient with this.”

“Jayce,” you remarked, looking at the fresh bills, “what the hell.”

“This is not much for you to get a decent gown for the gala. Keep the rest, if there is any, to get some fancy accessories.” He grabbed your hand, placing the cash in it. “Truly, this is the least I can do.”

You knew Jayce's patrons were the Kiramman’s, but to have money to give away like this? Since when was that the case?

“Vik, I think it's time for us to go.” Jayce finally remarked before leaving the room, leaving the two of you.

You both stayed in silence for a moment, both digesting the information that had just been given to you.

“What a way to celebrate your victory,” Viktor finally sighed.

“I've seen worse celebrations than a masquerade,” you remarked, observing the tickets for a moment before folding them up, “but I think I've had better experiences than being in a room with nobility sipping glasses of champagne with petty innuendo in every exchange.”

He huffed in turn. “I suppose the next area in which we must excel in no time is the art of conversation in high society. Although, considering our usual conversation,” he leaned his head to the side with a smirk, "we'll fit right in."

“How exciting,” you raised your eyebrows sarcastically, letting silence take its rule back on the room before you finally decided to break it. ”Guess I better go and find myself something to wear. See you tomorrow, Viktor.” 

“Wait,” he called to you, seeming hesitant about what he was going to suggest, ”would you like us to get together first and go? Or...”

“Let's meet directly at the party,” you assured him.

He nodded, his lips pressing in a thin line as you turned away. “Oh and...” you turned back to him at his words, his eyes piercing. “Don't forget the mask.”

You nodded, leaving the room.

You had today and tomorrow to find an outfit, and get used to the fact that Viktor was no longer a threat to be eliminated. Easier said than done. 

But still… What a way to celebrate a rebirth.

✦﹒ previous chapter ✦﹒ next chapter

[quarterlifekitty]

Promethean

Fuckboy!Soap x shy!reader x Ghost p.3

Soap likes to think of himself as someone who’s not just a fuckboy.

But it’s hard to think that when, right now, he’s literally checking his phone more often than he did when nana was touch-and-go in the hospital, with his train line experiencing heavy delays from inclement weather.

He tilts the screen to his face for the thirtieth time in the last two minutes. Nothing.

Well, not nothing. There’s never nothing. Social media alerts. Hearts in games refilled. Reminders of all the shit he’s left in his cart across various shopping apps.

The emails. My god, the emails…

But it may as well be empty, seeing as the one thing he wants to see isn’t there.

The fuck was your problem, lately? Not responding to his texts when he used to see the read checkmark within thirty seconds alongside a typing bubble. Yeah maybe he’s not your boyfriend, and he doesn’t act all lovey dovey the way you want him to when he fucks you, and he doesn’t even look at you when he passes you on campus, and he typically ignores it when you say hey— that kinda hurts, and….

Whatever. He’s not the one under examination here. You’re being the problem right now.

He should move down the contact list. He has options.

But first he needs to figure out what the fuck is going on with you. It’s gonna drive him crazy. He has a beautiful mind, that way. Should’ve been a detective.

His first clue comes with your next class together, right at the start of the week. It’s a little colder. The heat in this wing of the building has been kinda spotty at best. He himself is wearing pants longer than basketball shorts, which is cause to alert the media.

You’re wearing something big and faded and black. It swallows you. It’s familiar. There’s some cracked, plastic design on the front that used to be a logo, probably. But maybe it’s familiar because you’ve worn it before— it’s not like he’s really paid much attention to what you’ve worn in the past, not unless it was short or low cut.

Simon’s been around the house even less than usual. And when he is home, the door to his room is closed. Weird, considering he’s always been one of those door-open freaks. Whatever, maybe he’s taken up jacking off more lately. God knows he’s never let Johnny set him up with someone.

You’ve been different. Smiley. Not that Soap would know or anything. But your errant behavior warrants a closer look. Tapping away at your phone under the table. Rushing out of class like you have somewhere to be. Almost skipping.

Maybe he’d gotten a little too lax with baiting you. Needed to recast the enchantment. Make you remember what you were clinging to hope for. Even the most reliable trap will fail if it’s not baited.

“Gonna be a rager this wknd at the house, bonnie. Wanna see u there <3”

He was flush with confidence. Even if you didn’t respond now— he’d see you there. Where else would you be on a Saturday night? You’re not the dating type.

Someone call the Audubon Society about this man, because when it comes to predicting the migratory patterns of birds, he’s always right. You’re there before the party is even in full swing. You’re wearing that black sweatshirt again— not the sexiest choice, but he can’t blame you for getting a little sloppy when he hasn’t been around to keep your back straight.

He puts on his best, wolfish grin and leans against the bannister of the staircase so that you won’t be able to help but—

Brush right past him. Up the stairs.

Straight to his room, then? Well, it had been a while since he’d given it to you, huh? Poor thing— suffering from withdrawals. Maybe that’ll teach you not to ignore him when he’s trying to magnanimously grace you with a dick appointment.

He follows, hot on your tail, just in time to feel the tickle of a breeze from the quick closing of a door.

And the door to his room stares back at him.

Wide open.

[dreamerimpossible]

Slasher Jealousy Scale

Warnings: Unhealthy relationships, in certain cases yandere tendencies, +18 content.

Michael Myers 3/10

Not too jealous. He usually doesn't understand the reason for those feelings. Furthermore, no one would be able to touch what he marked for him, his superhuman strength and imposing figure would be on top of anyone who dared to look in your direction. So, he would never get jealous. There's just no need.

Chucky 8/10

Completely canonical that he's a jealous bastard. Just tell him he's not man enough for you and he'll get on top of you without thinking twice forcing you to back off. The person who set his sights on you doesn't have a good destiny, obviously. In reality, it's not good to play with him, his pride as a man is too strong.

Billy Loomis 9/10

Abandonment issues become too present. He doesn't like you getting close to too many guys. If his partner knows his true nature, he will be overly controlling and possessive, he would not like his partner to get too close to friends who could be a threat to their relationship. He is quite manipulative and will use such tactics to get you to stay away from those he doesn't like.

Stu Macher 6/10

Medium level of jealousy. He doesn't like being replaced by someone else, but he won't show much of a reaction if you talk to friends who like you. Anyway, he is also popular and will interact with all types of people. However, if he sees something very noticeable, he will pull the strings underneath and that person who made him jealous will magically disappear. For the sake of the relationship, don't talk about it.

Patrick Bateman 10/10

All your attention should be directed at him. The more genuine your interest and compliments, the more he will seek your attention, so making him jealous and paying attention to someone else would be the end of it. He needs complete devotion. He won't tolerate distractions and could take care of them. Making him feel insecure indirectly is not the best option you could take. It is better to dedicate everything to him.

Jason Vorhees 10/10

He literally keeps you locked up, that is the most representative indication of the matter. He does not like those people standing over you looking at you with lust. He is the only one you need. Yes, he will take care of you and protect you. You should be calm.

Leatherface 10/10

Too insecure with himself, so he expects you to have impeccable behavior. Although luckily for you, you will not have too many moments in which he will get jealous because your only environment is his family. So you must treat them with respect and with certain limits and distance. If not, he will get frustrated. And we know his way of dealing with that.

Art The Clown 2/10

He is not jealous, everything for him is a violent game. If someone flirts with you, he will laugh and do his thing with the same energy as always. Although he won't tolerate you ridiculing him, if you flirt with someone, you will pay, but not because he gets jealous, but because he is the one who makes the rules, not you.

Jason Dean 10/10

Dependent, possessive and obsessive. He's literally a warning in and of himself. Seriously, don't flirt or let yourself be flirted with. Don't break up with him, don't walk away from him, don't stop paying attention to him. Just don't leave him, he's very jealous and won't let you go for any reason. Oh, he's also manipulative, so he'll definitely get you to walk away from that harmless guy in your class.

Alex DeLarge 2/10

He doesn't formally qualify as a slasher, but I'm including him anyway. I don't really see him as jealous, he's more of a controlling guy. He doesn't like having his first choice role in other people's lives taken away from him, he is the leader and the one who commands, but he won't get jealous of anyone, because he thinks highly of himself and is charming when he wants to be. He probably has you wrapped around his finger, so…why get jealous?

Brahms 15/10

He won't let you leave the house for that reason. He doesn't want you to leave him, any outsider is a threat. You are only his, you must accept that. However, even if you accept it, he will still be jealous, because he can't help it. If you want to go out somewhere, he will wonder if it is because you want to see someone.

[cute-little-fly]

As much as Stolas behaviour was mixed with a lot of classism and privileged entitlement energy that would make a lot of people eye roll… Here I really like how he is able to break things, feel rage and be himself in front of Blitzø. Like, I feel he kinda need to let a lot of things out. He has been told to always have manners, not show his feelings and to be appropriate. This is also part of breaking out from royalty and high class :) ! Not all will be bad for him, and now he has people around that won’t judge him 💜

And now Stolas has broke Blitz's phone. ;) XD The phones always seem to suffer in the show, but I do love that running gag. ;)

[kenziebluex]

The Broken Heart That Makes Us

We are back!!! (updates will be every Friday in January 😊) Hope everyone had a great finals week and happy holiday!

Story Description: 

Your arranged marriage is on its last legs. After making an agreement with your step son, Megumi, you are puzzled when you are faced with finally making a decision.

Your whole life so far has been planned for you, leading you to struggle with the idea of moving on and finding something stable��someone stable.  

Will you finally be able to let go of the life that was made for you? Will there be others out there willing to pick up the pieces?

(18+) Pairings: Toji, Goji, Geto, Nanami, & Choso.

Read on ao3: TBHTMU

Chapter 2:

You weren’t surprised when the morning after Toji was nowhere to be found. He even packed up most of his stuff this time. What wasn’t even more surprising was that he didn’t show up for his son's martial arts tournament that was 2 days later. 

You knew how important this tournament was for Megumi since it was the last tournament before he would advance up a level in his class. If he won this match he would advance a color.

So when he walked out on stage and scanned the crowd for you. You made sure you were front and center not wanting him to feel alone. His face lit up as he noticed you in the crowd wanting to wave even though you knew he wouldn’t out of fear of embarrassment. Megumi continued scanning the crowd even though you hoped he wouldn’t. 

As much as he puts on a strong face you knew one thing that he had that you regretfully had a few days ago too.

Hope.

It all happened at once you watched as a wave of realization hit him. He looked back at you for a moment and you could see a tear slowly falling down his face. You felt sick to your stomach knowing that he was hurting. Megumi seemed to realize where he was and let out a laugh to distract himself. Getting back into his starting stance. He was going to do what he always does and channel his emotions into the fight.

You can just imagine what happened next. 

Megumi won the match 3-0. 

✿❀○❀✿

Practically running backstage after the match you barely manage to not trip over your own feet. You usually waited after the match in the front with the other parents but you needed to see him. You just felt an intense urge to tell him how proud of him you were. 

“Meg,..megumi” calling out softly in the crowd of people backstage you were met with a voice you didn’t recognize.

“Megumi��s over here.” said a man you weren’t familiar with. Megumi was sitting on a chair in the far corner of the room. You didn’t need to see his face to know by his body language he was frustrated and crying.

You couldn’t help yourself but to crouch down and hug him ignoring the people that were near him once you got to him. Surprisingly you were met with a tight hug back as he silently sobbed into your shoulder. Megumi usually doesn’t like public affection but you figured this was his one exception. 

“I’m so sorry Meg, but I'm so proud of you” you whispered next to his head, not wanting to draw more attention to him. Continuing to hold him and assuring him everything is okay you finally look up at the man that was standing in front of you as if he was blocking the view so you two could have some privacy. 

The back of the man had your eyes almost popping out the back of your head. The man was wearing a tight black compression shirt that made sure to emphasize the muscles on his shoulder and back. You could almost see the outlines of his veins and the back of the shirt left little to the imagination. He had to be a security guard. 

“Excuse me” you say softly because you didn't want to alarm Megumi. He didn’t seem to hear what you said which you figured would be the case. It was very loud backstage with the people and the wrap up music playing. Reaching out to touch his arm you hesitated causing you to jerk back.

The sudden movement seemed to have got his attention. He turned around and you wished he hadn't. 

“My god.” your eyes instantly locked on to his abs. You were right earlier at this point he might as well just not have worn a shirt. His abs were hugging the shirt and you could have sworn you could see his nipples if you looked hard enough. You could tell this man worked out daily. 

His white hair was pushed back and don’t get me started on his beautiful blue eyes. They seemed to sparkle even though the lighting wasn’t shining directly on him. He looked like a delicate painting that would be hung on the wall in an art museum. You were sure you could write a poem about how handsome- 

“SORRY” you say in a horrified whisper when you realize you have spent the last minute staring at his body. 

“You can stare all you want.” the man said with a smirk before bending down to the level me and Megumi were on. He was even more intimidating up close. 

“You guys okay? I saw him crying and led him over here for some privacy. I know these matches can be quite intense.” he sounded different from the joking tone he just displayed a second before. His voice was filled with genuine concern. 

“We are okay sorry for worrying you Sensei.” Megumi said, removing his head from my arm while slowly standing up. Sensei? I have never seen him before. I would have remembered meeting him. I stood up to not wanting to be kneeling on the hard floor any longer. 

It was a brief awkward silence as we all stood up not sure which one of us was going to talk first. I could barely look at the man in front of me, still embarrassed from my actions earlier.

“Mom this is Sensei Satoru Gojo, he’s a Sensei for the upper class students. He offered me a spot in his class.” Megumi said, breaking the silence. I turned to Megumi in disbelief, usually he asks permission before accepting after school classes. 

"We will talk about it at home Megumi." you said trying to put a positive smile on your face. You were met with a smile back and knew you would give in.

✿❀○❀✿ - (big jump skip, present time)

It’s been two years since you’ve been  rebuilding your life after divorcing Toji. To be honest, life became…somewhat peaceful. But it would be a lie if you said that overcoming everything was easy. The marriage was arranged to benefit your father so you thought divorcing had a heavy price to pay.

 Time passed and marriage to Toji was no longer needed for the firm’s success, making it just another fruitless expense. You still can’t believe that your dad uprooted your life based on a whim  just for you to go through hell and in the end, everything fell apart. But, you couldn’t complain much. After all, Megumi was all yours and you wouldn’t have it any other way. 

You figured that finally getting into a steady beat while taking care of Megumi was going to be a breeze. (Since that was something you were doing anyway.) And you know that he is not the type to complain much about anything. However, a guilty reminder racked your brain. 

Megumi needed someone to look up to. Up until now, you have always been the safety net to Toji’s broken promises and a part of you feels ashamed for separating him from his father. You concluded that enrolling him into Gojo-sensei’s martial arts classes was a good sign since it was the first time he truly asked for something from you. So, you gave Megumi all the support he needed to succeed and that’s why you’re parked outside of the dojo 20 minutes early before his class ends, right?

You eyed the rearview mirror while making final touches on your lashes with your mascara until you heard a blaring car horn. Shocked out of your focus, the mascara skidded leaving a dazzling black streak under your eye. Your head snapped outside the driver’s seat window of your blue Chevrolet Equinox.

“What the hell? They’re early!” The panic fell from your lips as you worked double time trying to tidy up the mess under your eye and fumbled through your purse to prepare to go inside. The other students filed out of the dojo and into their parents' cars while you had to prepare for a ‘fun parent-teacher conference’ as Gojo had stated. 

You exited your car, with your shoulder bag in tow and entered the dojo with a million thoughts running through your head.

‘Why a conference? Is Meg finally going through his rebellious phase?’ 

A thoughtless sigh escaped your lips as you discarded your heels to step up to the tatami mat of the cleared out dojo where only two people remained. 

 As soon as you passed through the double doors, brilliant clear quartz blue eyes pinned you in place. Phantom white hair slicked back from the sweat of a rigorous practice. The wet of his forehead trickled down into the scandalously opened chest of his white Gi that no doubt explored down the rest of his well-toned body. 

“Mama Megumi has such shameless eyes.” Serpent like words hummed from a deep bassy voice. You blinked twice as your gaze focused on the playful grin that tugged the lips of the tall mischievous man. He allowed the collar of his Gi to fall slightly, parading more of his wickedly muscled peck. Your lips tightened at his obvious teasing. 

You ignored his taunt and shifted your gaze to Megumi, who wore a similar Gi but a color belt of a few ranks below. 

“Meg, is everything ok?” You asked, fully focusing on your son whose typical spiky black hair laid flat from his work out. 

Megumi’s eyes shifted back and forth between you to Gojo, lightly acknowledging the banter.

 It was always a game between you two. He’d flirt, you’d ignore. You tease and he bites back. It was a battle of wits everytime you two met which is precisely why you wouldn’t play his game today. Megumi’s wellbeing always came before whatever shallow flirting you had going on.

“Yeah mom. I-.” Megumi began.

“Megumi is doing just fine.” Gojo interrupted as he swung a lazy arm over Megumi’s shoulders. Your eyebrows scrunched in confusion.

“I don’t get it then. Why did we need a conference?” Your arms slumped as you felt the rush of worry escape your body. All that was left was confusion. Gojo had whispered something to him and after a formal bow, Megumi departed to go gather his belongings. 

Gojo leisurely planted his hands on his hips and gilded himself towards you, leaving only a forearm’s length in between. His towering figure overshadowed your frame as the heat of his gaze spoke a thousand words. 

“I think we are past the stage of stick-up-your-ass formalities.” Gojo purred. Playfulness showered his lips while his eyes left a danger to be desired. 

“I don’t have time for games when it involves my son, sensei.” You answered firmly. He raised a hand and used his thumb to brush under your eye. You assumed he was cleaning up the aftermath of your mascara but heat remained as his thumb caressed your cheek. 

You gently slapped his hand away and it fell to his side. You shot him a glare warning him to stop wasting your time. He smirked, humored at your fiery response.

“I just wanted to do a follow up for the letter I sent you through the mail.” He confessed.  Your head fell to the side and your eyes trekked downwards in deep thought. You don’t remember receiving any mail recently from him but then again…

“Ah-. I changed my address.” You raised your head too quickly not knowing Gojo hovered low enough where his nose barely brushed yours. You took in a gasp. 

Gojo studied your face and his peering blue eyes paused at your lips. You subconsciously wetted them with your tongue and you watched his breath hitch. His eyes then fell to your chest that teasingly left the first two buttons open of your blazer. 

“This is our new address! We fully moved in about a year ago.” You broke the tension. Your body turned to fumble through your purse looking for a small piece of paper and a pen. You settled for an old restaurant business card and began to write your address on the back. 

With his index and middle finger, Gojo swiftly swiped the card from your hands. He exchanged looks with the card and your face and then looked back at the card and flipped it over. He snorted a laugh and covered his mouth to contain it. 

“What?” You shrugged trying to take a peek at the card to see if you spelled something wrong. 

He flipped the card up to your face.

“Coupon for Chuck N Cheese’s?! Are you 6?!” He threw his head back and boomed in laughter. You shoved his shoulder and attempted to swipe the business card back. He was faster than you and raised the card in the air to force you to jump for it.

“Give it back, dickcheese.” You leaped again and attempted to take the card back. Gojo’s wicked smile only grew while he watched your embarrassed reaction. 

“Ha! And I’m the childish one?!” You huffed.

You felt a hand curl around your back and he pulled your chest against his. The force sent you both tumbling with Gojo breaking your fall. 

Your eyes grew wide as your chest pressed plush against his and his long legs straddling the sides of you. You tried not to focus on something rock solid that bullied its way against your pelvis. You felt his hand on your back slowly rub up and down, teasing the top of your ass. 

He took another glance at the card with your address written on it.

“Got it. I’ll swing by tomorrow at 8. Dress nicely.” He ordered and you pushed yourself up to meet him face to face. 

“What game are you playing?” You whispered looking for deception in his gaze. His head fell back on the mat and he gazed up at you under hooded eyes. His hand stopped just before the curve of your ass. He parted his lips as he was about to answer.

“Oi, pervert!” A bellow emerged from the changing room and you quickly scrambled to your knees and Gojo sat up after you. Megumi’s face was twisted in disgust directed at Gojo. 

Before another word was uttered, Megumi marched over to you and pulled you up by the wrist. He stood in front of you protectively. However, Gojo was completely unphased.

“Oh! That reminds me. I wanted to recommend Megumi to extra practices. I think he could train for a higher belt before the end of the year.” Gojo explained nonchalantly. He perched up his knee and rested his elbow on it while flicking the card back and forth in between his fingers. 

You rubbed the temples of your forehead.

‘This could have been a fucking email.’ You groaned internally. 

“Of course…I do need a parent’s approval. It means that he’s going to be training more during the week and I wanted to make sure that was ok with you.” Gojo rose up to his feet. You were taken aback at how reasonable his explanation was. Watching Gojo flirt back and forth from playful to serious was kind of sexy in a way.

His gaze turned soft as he eyed Megumi knowingly.

“I want to see him succeed.” Gojo confessed. You noticed the flicker of sincerity in his tone. 

Keeping up with Megumi’s practices was hellish already. Although moving gave you the distance you needed and the living space Megumi deserved, traveling was brutal. His shoulders slumped. He knew this too. But if jujutsu martial arts was something he wanted to do, distance be damned!

“I think we can spare a few extra days. Right Meg?” You placed two hands on his shoulders and he turned his back to face you in disbelief. Then, the pinch of hope you briefly saw in his eyes disappeared in an instant.

“But you’ve been pushing yourself. There are no buses near our house and you have to drive me to school everyday and then from school to practice. I don’t want to be a burden again…” The last part of his sentence trailed off almost like a silent apology. He almost struggled to look you in the eye. Being a burden was the last thing you wanted Megumi to think. Especially after it took years to heal the wounds his father left that made him have those thoughts.

“Erm! *cough* I’ll take Meggy home if he’ll need a ride.” Gojo suggested. Both you and Megumi snapped your heads towards him. Megumi pondered the suggestion.

“This just gives me more reasons to camp out at your doorstep.” He continued and once again wore a mischievous grin. You clicked your tongue and rolled your eyes.

“Stalker.” You uttered while guiding Megumi to the exit. 

“Remember! 8 O’Clock on the Dot! Okay??? Do you hear me?!! Hey!!! Hey helloooo!!!” You heard Gojo holler from behind you as you and Megumi exited the dojo. You displayed a pretty little middle finger to Gojo without sparing him a glance. 

“Mom, don't associate with him. He’s ill.” 

“Yeah…I know.”

tag: @beetusbritt❤ @nousija divider by @cafekitsune art credit 1: ig: arekushisu (commission do not use) art credit 2: twitter: ayushnz_ ❀follow for more ❀ ao3: kenzieblue❀ -kenzie & des

[kaiyunsim]

wishful winter —

pairing : childhood bestfriend!woonhak x gn!reader (no pronouns used)

summary : woonhak has always had a crush on you. he wants to confess to you with an upcoming christmas party coming up but is too scared that it’ll ruin your relationship you guys have now.

warnings : fluff, pining woonhak (who is also kinda dumb), jaehyun as a friend,

a/n : what happens when you have a crush on your ult bias… make a fic !! (ily woonhak) also stream wishful winter for christmas !

queueing… wishful winter - nct wish, santa baby - laufey, say it back - peach luffe

— not proof read — wc : 1.9k —

woonhak is always a very loud and talkative person. after all, being the youngest in his friend group always has its perks, and it makes woonhak known as the loud, cute one in all of school.

you’re in the same group as him, harboring the same group of friends, but you and woonhak are practically inseparable as you two grew up with eachother since you could remember. the group often associates you both as twins, like siblings from another mother. and of course, woonhak had a big, fat crush on you.

your families have their annual christmas party coming up and it’s the most exciting time of the year for the both of you. in the past years, you guys have exchanged gifts, planned events, and even planned games. one year, woonhak lost and got flour all over his face which is now a memory you always bring up every year.

while at school on the day of the planned party, you walk over to the table where everyone usually meets and immediately gets greeted with the same, adorable smirk woonhak gives.

“y/n!” he yells, not doing so on purpose but forgets they are actually in school.

you playfully push his aside, sitting next to him. “move aside, woonagi” you tease him, it’s the name the other friends gave him but you thought it was such a cute name especially since woonhak was the baby of the group.

woonhak just responds with a sarcastic eye roll before going back to eating his food. jaehyun, one of your friends, looks at both of you with his mouth wide open, “you’re actually joking,” he says, the surprised expression not leaving his face, “woonhak, why do you get mad at us when we call you woonagi, but when y/n does it you literally don’t care” jaehyun exclaims bitterly. it was mostly a joke but jaehyun did want to know why woonhak didn’t react much to you.

you look at jaehyun with his jealous gaze, “woonagi just loves me more than you” you say playfully, sticking your tounge out at jaehyun. another one of your friends, leehan, laughs at jaehyuns defeat. woonhak is left quiet and a light blush now apparent on his cheeks.

you notice the slight redness on woonhak’s face and combine it with the sudden quiet attidude fron the usually-loud woonhak you know to come to the conclusion to one thing. he’s sick.

it’s not weird to be sick at this time, especially since it’s the winter time but either way, you place a hand on his forehead to check his temperature. it’s slightly hotter than normal seeing more red appear on his face.

in woonhak’s mind he’s trying to battle breaking all together. his heart racing and mind going everywhere and nowhere at the same time from you taking care of him.

you sweep some stray hairs out of his bangs, “take care of yourself, you look like you just woke up” you laugh before finishing up your food.

as if woonhak could blush more, he looked very red. it was a good thing you were focused on your food and not on him or else the embarassment would be too much to handle. eventually, he’s able to calm down and lunchtime came to an end everyone starts parting ways to their final classes.

before either of you leave, you nudge woonhak once again. “i’ll see you later?” you ask. he looks confused. the dots aren’t connecting in his mind while looking at you. you laugh at his forgetful state right now, “the christmas party?” you remind him. “oh yeah” he remembers, he scratches the back of his head from ebarassment. “jeez woonagi, you’re so clueless sometimes, good thing you have me” you giggle as you walk off to your class.

woonhak stands there a moment, heart racing once again. in fact, literally anything you would do would make it race, and he didn’t know what to do or how to react. of course he wants to tell you but isn’t sure if you would like him back and is scared to ruin the close bond you guys have already.

after school ends, woonhak heads home, hoping to sort out his feelings before meeting up with you again before the party. he goes to the one person he knows, or thinks that he knows, some good dating advice. his hyung, myung jaehyun.

—

now woonhak is standing in front of jaehyun’s home as the night shrouded him in darkness. he was suited in the cute black bubble jacket you got him last christmas which is also matching with yours. woonhak knocks on the door of jaehyun, desperate for any advice his hyung can provide.

jaehyun answers the door. he’s wearing some cute christmas pyjamas. he’s wiping his eye, looking like he just woke up from a nap. “ever heard of texting, woonhak?” he asks, somewhat annoyed that he was disturbed from his nap but shortly realizes that it’s the youngest so he lets it pass.

“i called you so many times, hyung” he says. woonhak lets himself in, going past the sleepy jaehyun who is checking his call receipts to see that woonhak did, indeed, call him exactly 7 times. “jesus i guess i’m a deep sleeper” jaehyun comments quietly to himself.

“why are you here, woonagi?” jaehyun asks while trying to tease the young boy, “you’re going to be late for your christmas party with y/n” he continues. he boils some hot water for hot chocolate for woonhak.

“quit it with the name, hyung” woonhak scoffs, clearly annoyed. “i’m here to ask you about something”

jaehyun looks slightly worried, “you never come to me for anything, i’m kinda scared.” he pours out the hot chocolate and gives it to the young boy. “you’re not dying. are you?” he jokes lightly.

woonhak accepts the hot cup, using it to warm his hands, “no, idiot. it’s about y/n” woonhak confesses.

jaehyun’s serious expression immediately falters and gets replaced with one of teasing. “ohh, i knew it! what did they do this time? smile at you? breathe in your direction?” jaehyun says, smile getting wider and voice getting more teasing every question.

“can you be seious for once?” woonhak sighs, tired of all the teasing he’s being bombarded with. he sounds more serious, “listen, i don’t know if they like me or are just being friendly…” woonhak says, just speaking his mind out, sipping the hot chocolate.

the hyung rolls his eyes, looking done with the younger’s lovesick problems. “okay but why does it matter? just keep the attention dude, you’re lucky someone keeps clinging onto you.” jaehyun replies unseriously, that playful smirk making its way back to his face.

“that’s not helpful!” woonhak exclaims, playing a mini tantrum. “ugh, i knew i should’ve gome to riwoo hyung” he whispers to himself but jaehyun overhears.

“okay okay fine, keep going. what things do they do?” jaehyun asks, finally takes it semi-seriously and get information from woonhak.

and now woonhak has a mini clump in his throat as even just thinking about you makes him jumble his words, “well they’ll lean on me, have lingering touches, and like gets close when we talk. but when i ask they’re like ‘im just like this with everyone’” woonhak admits, shoulders giving out as he slouches slightly into the chair.

“well maybe they are like that with everyone” jaehyun says, adding some emphasis on ‘are’, wanting to help woonhak see everything clearly, but not giving the boy the answer right away.

“that’s exactly what im afraid of!” woonhak exclaims, “but what if they aren’t… what if im mising my chance?” woonhak asks his hyung, desperate for an answer.

“then don’t miss it” jaehyun answers.

woonhak looks at his hyung, confused, “what does that even mean?”

jaehyung places his palm onto his face, dissappointed at how dumb woonhak is, “i mean, just go for it. or dont. either way, you’ll figure it out”

woonhak checks the time and sees that he has to leave to go to the party. he gets up from his chair, still confused, “what do i even bother asking you?”

“my question exactly. well let me know if they reject you so. i can roast you for it, woonagi” jaehyun giggles as he enjoys teasing the youngest.

woonhak walks out of the door after returning the hot chocolate, “i hate you, hyung” woonhak pouts with an angry face as he walks off.

“no you don’t! good luck loverboy!” jaehyun yells into the empty neighborhood before closing the door.

—

woonhak walks into the house which is decorated in twinkling lights. sounds of a cackling fireplace echo into his ears and the smell of freshly baked cookies goes around the room. families gather, chatting now also stacks with the sounds.

he goes over to the more quiet corner of the party, away from the adults to avoid any awkward conversations. you’re also there, sitting by the christmas tree and he decides to sit next to you.

“it’s so pretty this year. the lights, the tree… everything feels extra magical, doesn’t it?” you comment, gazing at the tree, beautifully decorated with many different kinds of ornaments from each family that got together.

woonhak leans back to try and make it look like he was playing it cool. “yeah, i guess. or maybe it's just because you're here" he says lightly, also focused on the tree that is in front of the both of you.

you blink, registering the words woonhak said. your eyes widen slightly as your gaze moves over to the boy. "what was that?"

he realizes what he says and his eyes widen as well. "uh. i mean, everone's here! like, the whole family and stuff. that's what it makes it magical," woonhak tries to play it off.

you tilt your head, suspicious but amused at woonhak's attempt at recovery. "mhm. sure, woonhak."

you both fall into a comfortable silence, watching the lights twinkle together on the tree, admiring the time you guys have together. woonhak's heart starts to race as he steals a glance at you, who is just quietly smiling at the tree.

"you've been acting weird lately. is something on your mind?" you ask, noticing a difference in woonhak's behavior recently.

woonhak starts choking on his own saliva, "what? no! weird? me? i'm always like this."

you laugh softly at his clumsiness, "okay, if you say so. woonagi" you tease the boy. your laughter fades as you suddenly lean in a little closer. "but, seriously. you know you can tell me anything, right? we've known each other since forever ago." you remind him, trying to comfort him through his personal problem.

woonhak's concentration slips, especially with you moving closer to him, "i like you."

a heavy silence falls between you both, woonhak freezing and woonhak turning a familiar tone of red.

you simply blink in surprise, still registering the situation. "wait what?"

woonhak starts to stammer his words, trying to quickly formulate sentences through the embarrassment he's feeling, "i-i didn't mean to say that! i mean, i did, but not like this!" he covers his face with his hands. "forget i even said anything." he says as he gets up.

you grab onto his arm, smiling softly. "woonhak, i think you're so cute when you're flustered. and, for the record, i like you too.

"wait really?" he makes sure, wanting to make sure he's not hearing anything wrong.

you simply nod, teasingly, of course. "yeah. but you're going to have to make it up to me for confessing to me like that. where's the grand romantic gesture?" you nudge him gently.

woonhak laughs nervously but is finally relaxing, "give me a break. i'm not exactly smooth under pressure."

[cowboylikesvt]

Spider-boy! 🕸 🎸🎧

prev || masterlist || next

Chapter 4: Putting the “C” in Physics

warnings: Cursing

Word count: 1.5k

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:

Bouncing a leg up and down is a habit you’ve had ever since you were a child, which you’re currently doing as you wait for your tutor to arrive. It’s not out of impatience or anything; it’s nothing like that at all. You never really knew why you did this, but every time you awaited something, you always found yourself bouncing your leg or tapping a foot.

Maybe you just felt antsy. Maybe you were anxious. You never gave it much thought since you always found yourself doing it no matter how serious or unserious the occasion was. It’s just normal. Well, you guess it is for you, at least.

Sitting in the window of the coffee shop, there are all kinds of different people walking by. Businessmen in suits heading to their corporate jobs, nurses in scrubs heading to the hospital a few blocks away, and parents walking hand in hand with their children.

It was something so normal, but still, it stirred something within you. Sure, some parts of your life could be considered normal, but deep down, you craved that normalcy and obliviousness that the average person had. The one thing you knew you’d never be able to have. Never again, that is.

You never thought about being a full-time superhero, such as someone like Spiderman. You were selfish in a way. You can’t just easily suppress those feelings and put them aside for other people. That may be why you’re a cat burglar (see what I did there). You may not steal from the average person, but it’s enough of a distraction and adrenaline rush to make you forget about that ache deep inside your chest.

That’s why you don’t like Spiderman. Not because he’s annoying or always in your way but because he was a genuinely good, selfless person. He may not have the normalcy or obliviousness you crave, and he may even crave it as well, but he doesn’t let that get in the way of what he believes is right.

In a way, your entire situation could be viewed as wrong. What you do is wrong. How you do it is wrong. It’s all unethical. However, it’s deeper than that. There’s more to it, so you like to tell yourself everything is just morally grey. (That’s why your friends are still your friends, but more of the details of that later.)

Snapping out of your thoughts, you look up to the entrance and see the boy you met the other day. You watch as he glances around looking for you, so you stick your hand up in the air and wave so he can spot you.

You see him smile when he spots you, and you smile back as he walks over. He bumps into an empty chair at someone’s table as he walks over.

“Sorry, sorry,” Jisung says apologetically to the people at the table while cursing at himself mentally for embarrassing himself.

“Hi! I hope this table is alright; it was the only empty one when I got here. I also got us both hot lattes since it’s cold out; I hope that’s ok. I don’t know what you would want.” You greet Jisung nicely and slide the coffee cup over.

He takes his jacket off and hangs it on the back of the chair. “That’s fine, thank you!” He reassures you with a soft smile as he sits across from you. He bends over to grab his textbook and notebook from his bag.

“I’m going to be honest: I suck at physics,” you say awkwardly but honestly nonetheless. He deserves to know what he’s getting into. “Like, I’m really bad at it. Really bad.”

Jisung gives you a sympathetic look. “It’s alright; besides, that’s what I’m here for. What grade are you aiming for?”

“Well, I have an F right now, so I’m failing. I’d like to get it up to a D with the next test and possibly a C for the semester.” You begin to pull out your own notes and textbook from your bag.

He nods, “That should be doable.” You raise your eyebrows. “Really?” You say surprised, raising your eyebrows.

He starts to explain it to you as he writes it all down on a piece of paper. “Let’s say right now you have a 58 in the class. Getting a C on the next test could raise your grade up to a low D. With all of the assignments and extra credit being assigned, that could get your average up to about a 65.” He does the math in his head and hums to himself.

“We have another test after the one coming up. Then after that one is the final. So if you get a C on the next exam and then a B or higher on the following exam, you could finish the class with about... a 74 or 75. Depending on how the professor rounds it.” He then sets his pencil down, and you stare at him in awe.

“You did all of that in your head? That quickly?” You question the guy sitting in front of you. He rubs the back of his neck, chuckling nervously, “Oh, uh, I’m just really good at math.”

You nod, “I can see that.” You then look at the paper. “Do you think I could get a B in the class?”

“Hmm, I don’t know. It will be really hard, but it’s not impossible, I guess. You just have to do well on the next two tests and the final. I think if the professor gives out more extra credit opportunities, it could make it more likely too. I don’t know if he will, though.” He answers honestly. “I think it would be best to aim for a C for now since that seems to be the possible outcome.”

“Ok, then I feel better about this.” You then look up at him. “Not that I didn’t think you wouldn’t be helpful! I just didn’t know if it would be possible.”

Jisung shakes his head and waves his hands in front of him. “Oh, I didn’t think that at all. Don’t worry; I would never think that. EVER.” He then laughs awkwardly, giving you a confused look.

“Oh well, alright then,” you pause, thinking of how to break the now awkward silence. “Well, should we start then?”

“Right, yes. Yes, of course. That is why we are here.” He is a bit all over the place and a bit… well, strange, but he’s nice, and you know he is the best option when it comes to help, so you just brush it off.

He thinks to himself before speaking. “Let’s start with Newton’s Laws of Motion,” he smiles, flipping to a page in the textbook.

“Right,” you smile, then pause and then laugh awkwardly. “Uh, so… What is that?”

He looks up, and his eyes widen a bit. This is going to be harder than he thought.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:

“Ok, I think I got it. Can you check it?” You slide the paper over to Jisung for him to check the problems he gave you to solve after an hour and a half of tutoring.

He nods and checks the problems. “You got everything right.” He smiles. “See, I told you that you could do it. You just needed a bit of confidence. After a few more sessions, I’m 100% sure you will be able to do these with your eyes closed.”

You can’t help but smile brightly at him. “Thank you so much for your help. It all makes so much sense now! I don’t know why I was so nervous. Honestly, you’re a better teacher than our actual professor.”

“Well, I wouldn’t say that, but—well, I guess I am a pretty good teacher.” He lets the compliment go to his head. After all, it’s coming from you, the most beautiful person he has ever met.

The both of you begin to pack your things. “So, same time next week?” You ask looking up after zipping your bag. “Yeah, yeah, that’s perfect.” He reassures.

“Great! I’ll see you next Thursday then!” You smile, then get ready to walk off.

Jisung watches you start to walk off, but he wants to say something else to you. Internally he is beating himself up, not knowing what he should say or if he should say anything at all.

"Act how you think a normal person would act," Chan's words repeat in his head. "Don't make a fool of yourself, Jisung," he tells himself before calling out to you.

You turn your head around at the sound of your name. "Next time I'll buy your coffee. I owe you one." A smile creeps up onto your lips.

"I'll hold you to it then." You then exit the coffee shop, leaving Jisung standing there pumping his fists in the air excitedly. He can't wait to tell his friends about this, mainly because he will prove that he isn't a complete idiot.

He stops and sees the people sitting around him staring at him. He laughs awkwardly and rubs his head before pointing to the door and swiftly exiting.

Okay, maybe he is an idiot.

Authors note: I’m really looking forward to the upcoming chapters as they dive more into Y/n’s backstory, family, and how she became The Black Cat. As always I hope you guys enjoyed <3

[colinzabelswife]

Glasses-Peter Maximoff

Peter Maximoff x reader

Warnings: nothing just fluff :)

You had always needed glasses, it was something you couldn’t avoid. You were little when it became clear that you needed them,so your parents set up an appointment to get them. At first it was only for reading, but when you refused to wear them because you thought they looked weird, it eventually became a problem.

After a few years of wearing glasses every so often, you just decided to get contacts. It would be a lot better than wearing those ugly things, you thought. Peter on the other hand thought you looked really cute in glasses. He would constantly remind you to wear them but you just protested saying that you could see without them and that they just made you look like a nerd.

“I just don’t understand why you want contacts instead of glasses.” Peter said confused, he knew that you didn’t wear them because of your insecurity. “I think you look cute in them.” You rolled your eyes at his statement. “What? I’m not wrong” Peter wasn’t lying and he didn’t like the fact that you didn’t believe him.

Two weeks later

It was currently 7:45am and you were running behind on getting ready. School started at 8 which meant you still had 15 minutes left to get ready. You were sitting at your vanity struggling to put your contacts in. “UGH! I can’t put them in!” You whine as Peter walked into the room. “Just wear your glasses” He says as he flops on the bed. You were already fed up and annoyed and his comment didn’t help so you glared at him. “Jeez sorry, I was just trying to help.” After about another two minutes of trying to put them in, you got so frustrated that there were tears in your eyes. Peter looked up at you and quickly noticed your frustration. He then got up and crouched down next to you and tried to calm you down. “Look, I know you don’t like wearing your glasses, but you’re already running behind and it doesn’t help when you’re frustrated with your contacts. So please…just wear your glasses.” Peter saw the look of determination of not wearing them, on your face. “I’m not lying when I say you look cute in them.” Eventually you caved and decided to wear your glasses.

Later that day, you could tell that wearing your glasses made a huge difference. You were able to see a lot better and everything was more clear. “Hey nerd”, you heard as you turned around to see Peter standing by your locker with a dopey smile on his face. “Shut up. I know I already look like one.” You say annoyed. “I’m just messing with ya”, Peter said pulling you into a kiss. “No I’m being serious. I woke up this morning and I’m breaking out all over my face and on top of that I have to wear these glasses”, you say upset. “Hey hey…look at me, calm down. Your acne isn’t that bad and the glasses don’t make it worse. I promise…so just calm down. You’re fine.” He said as he held you by your arms.

After a minute of standing there like that, Peter pulled away and looked in your eyes. “I know you’re feeling insecure but you shouldn’t. It’s normal to have acne and it’s not a big deal to wear glasses. They don’t make you look like a nerd, they help you see. And if people can’t see that, then that’s their issue.” After he said that, Peter pulled you into a hug. “Now I have to get going and so do you, so I’ll see you later. We can watch something together and get pizza okay?” You nod as the bell rang and walked to your next class.

Later that night like Peter promised, he ordered pizza and turned on a movie. You two were currently curled up on his bed watching a Christmas movie. “Maybe you were right about my glasses”, you say quietly. “Oh yeah, why’s that?” “Because I was able to see better and they were more comfortable to wear.” He then pulled you closer to him. “Well I’m glad that you are finally believing me.” You snuggled closer to him. “I’m going to sleep now, love you.” “Love you too babe. Sleep tight.”

Tags: @lacucarachapisser @bohnerrific69 @fear-is-truth @wcnderlnds @xrag-dollx @evansroses

Personal Rant

(This happened to me a few weeks ago except I didn’t have Peter 😔. I absolutely despise wearing my glasses because I feel like I look ugly in them and the day that I had to wear them because I couldn’t get my contacts in, my acne was horrible and I’ve never had any break outs like that before and when I put them on I felt like I looked like a nerd)

[icarusredwings]

Camping

pt 1

pt 2

A heart warming 1000th follower special!!

Logan takes the X kits camping. Simple right?

Wrong.

Children in this school are expected to be top of their class... If they aren't.. They at least need to be able to take care of themselves and use their powers decently well. For good of course.

Now you may be thinking 'Or what?'

Well- Or else you have to go with Wolverine for a survival training exercise. Aka- Summer Camp.

"Are we almost there? I'm tired." The lion boy groaned, his pack the heaviest amongst the children due to his natural strength and the fact he greatly overpacked.

"You're always tired, Leo.." Owen mutters, rolling his eyes. "But he's right. I'm starving."

This- of course, was Wade's cue.

"Hi starving! Hi tired! I'm dad!" He smiles widely as he treks behind his husband in khaki shorts and a button up shirt with a few random badges in it, his pack quite large due to his ability to carry the most in this little team of theirs.

There were a total of 12 children this time around, most being Xkits or... well.. Kids that Logan have decided to adopt under his own metaphorical wings. Unlike Warren who has legally adopted Issac under his literal wings. His mother being none other than Laura herself. Clone business and all that.

“This is stupid..” The 11 year old grumbles, wings dyed black tucked in as he holds his pack on the side. Why he chose to wear skinny jeans in the middle of the woods? Well that would be the stubbornness of his grandfather in him.

“Maybe you should have participated in Gym and you wouldn't be missing a credit.” Logan tells the taloned boy, who grumbles under his breath how unfair it is to be related to your teacher because he targets you. “You're not even my real grandfather...” He'd grumble.

“Ooh but technically he is, chickadee. See you're a clone of Laura and Laura is his daughter, which makes you..” Wade whispers to him with a big smirk.

“Gabrielle is a clone of Laura too and she's her sister. Not her daughter. So why do I have to be her son?”

Wade laughs. “Ha! What? You wanna be big guys son? That's even worse, trust me. Besides! You got different Dna then Laura cause your daddy is fancy pants rich mcgee-” He pokes, only for his hand to be slapped away. Holding a hand up to his mouth, Wade whispers. “Between you and me, He likes being a grandpa. Don't let him lie.”

“Shut up! You're scaring the wild life with your big mouth.” He growls through grit teeth.

“Ooh.. Touchy subject..”

Let's just say that Logan was getting real tired of people using his Dna to splice together more mutant children. Especially if they were just going to be raised as weapons..

There had been twelve kids on this trip, each chaperone had 3 kids to look after, well..Four each if you counted Logan and Wade as a pair, seeing as Wade was technically a risk and the only reason he was allowed was because Logan was here. There wasn't exactly a hospital out in the woods, so if he got sick or someone who couldn't regenerate got stabbed- there would be a serious issue.

Each teacher was responsible for an equal number of children, meant to coach them and encourage them to use their powers when out in these deep Canadian woods. They could have gone to the woods in the US But Logan refused unless it was these woods in particular. Those were his requirements. He got Wade, and he got to go to Canada.

Between them, There was Logan, The leader of this group (for obvious reasons), Wade (his cheerful husband), Morph (The current mentor of Ivo), and Father Wagner (Second in command for obvious reasons)

The girl behind them groaned loudly. "You're not our dad, though." She mumbled, replying to Wade's dad joke, having been volunteered by her mother to go on this trip. Something about "connecting more with your roots," she said. She, the daughter of Forge's cousin, would much rather have been in the shop, good with electric tools rather than starting fires, chopping wood, or walking long distances.

Harley, a rabbit girl with far too much sass for someone her age, scrunches her nose. “Ick! It smells like a wet dog here!” She says.

“Gabby! Get out of that puddle!” Logan scolds her, watching as she played in the mud. Taking her fingers she smirks, wiping it on her cheeks like war paint. “Why!? I thought the whole point of being in the woods is to be dirty?” She gets up, shaking off with a big smile, splating mud onto some of the other students.

Harley whines. “Mr. Sydney, Gabby got my dress dirty!”

Owen shifts into Harley for just a moment. “Mr. Sydney, I chose to wear an expensive skirt on a camping trip in the middle of summer!”

“Oi! I don't sound like that!” She starts, balling her fists and glared.

“Hey- hey. Children. That is enough, Ja? Do you really vish to mock your team mate?”

“Yes.” Leo mutters.

The girl growls at the lion, who makes an ‘eep' noise and runs behind the blue tailed man.

“Owen has a point, though, Harley. Mr. Howlett told you that you might get dirty.”

“Uh-yeah. Key word. Might.”

Morph rolls their eyes, groaning. “You sound like Issac right now.”

“I do not!”

“She does not!!”

“He's gross! And icky and mean!”

“She's so prissy and spoiled!”

Wade and Morph glance at each other, smirking before laughing. Yeaahh.. these two were definitely gonna get caught holding hands at lunch in the future. When you've been around kids this much, it's just something you know.

Logan and Kurt look at each other with that ‘Sigh. Kids.’ Kind of look before Kurt flicks his tail. “Okay okay! Who wants to hear a story?”

“Is it a church story?” Cherri asks.

“If it's a church story I'm gonna fall asleep.” Leo mumbles, already yawning.

“Well… I suppose not then. Erm. Wade- NO”

Wade shrugs, leaning on Morph's shoulder. “Good choice really.”

Morph nods, agreeing that Wade's stories were far too mature for this group of 9-14 year olds.

Kurt smiles awkwardly “Mr. Sydney?”

Immediately, the shit eating grin that comes onto their face makes him shake his head. “Nien. Logan?”

He doesn't answer. Their leader is sniffing the air, looking ahead as if he smelt something that perhaps would put them in danger.

“Whatcha sniffin’dad?!” Gabs asked, coming up front to sniff too, their noses twitching.

All Leo, Cherri, Harley, and the other students tried to smell too.

“I don't smell anything.” Owen mumbles, a bit upset.

“Eh don't worry, kid. It's more of an animal thing.”

“A hot animal thing. Woof. I might just skip gym all next semester just so I can come out here and-” He whispers a little too loudly.

“Wade! Shush!” Turning, he waits for them to tell him what it was they smelled. “Hands.” He says and there's a couple that raise. Gabby is currently in the back, jumping with her hand up.

“I know, I know!!”

“I know you know. You can tell me after them. Leo?”

“Is it.. a deer?”

“Close. And you just smell Cherri. Cherri? Whatcha smell?”

“I smell berries. And I hear water.”

“Very good! Harper?”

“It's Harley! She's Harper!”

Logan's hands go up. “Okay, Sheesh. Well, What do ya smell princess?”

“I smell…a cat?”

“Close! Anyone else?” When no one else raised their hands, he sighs. “Gabby?”

“It's a lynx!!” She yells, as if she was holding it in this whole time.

“She gets that from me.” Wade tells Morph, who smirks. “are you sure she aint yours?”

“You see I've been wondering this for years now.” He says, letting go of their shoulder and went to gabby, squeezing her to death. “Huh? My big girl!”

“Ahh!! Papa!!” She giggles, making an “omph” noise when he squeezed the air from her.

Kurt smiles, looking quite happy out here, humble and was silently remencesing on the times Logan and him would come out here, how they'd play chase and tag. Sighing, Kurts tail flicked sorrowfully. But that was a long time ago.. a long time..

“Wade.. Drop it.” Logan says, the way you would A dog.

“If you say so.” Putting his hands up, Wade drops the girl with a soft “Aahh!” as she lands on her feet.

“Now..obviously we aren't going down that trail if there's a Lynx so we'll be camping ealier then expected.”

The children cheer.

“Thank god for the lynx.” Kurt mutters, even his feet starting to get a little sore. They've come about 8 miles already and he really thought Logan was going to force the entire 10. I suppose in his growing age he's been relying on Bamfs far more than he would like to admit.

“You all are getting better at your tracking, but you missed something. If you turn your head a bit you can see a downy woodpecker. They're common around here but they don't have the classic red color we're used to. They're kinda striped.” Logan says to them.

"Hey Joey!” Morph says. The Kangaroo kid known as “Roo” aka Joey, was one of the kids under Kurt's tail of teaching. “Look at this. Who am I?" They then shift into an exact replica of Logan, mimicking him.

"Oi yuall see thathere wud pecka!?" They say, clearly in a very terrible aussie accent.

Joey and the other kids laugh.

Logan rolls his eyes, smiling. "Oh, stop it. I'm not even Australian.” A moment after saying this, He gasps, grinning a bit as he pointed. “Look kids. That's a red breasted nuthatch!”

“Oi chaldren i'z a red bested ‘uthack!”

Wade laughs a bit too hard for this to be a light joke. “I don't know Mr. Howlett, you have some competition.”

He blushes, grumbling. “I don't sound like that..”

“I ‘oint sownd wike dat, mate!”

It's Kurt who giggles now and Logan can't help but growl in that frustrated tone. “Alright alright! har har. Enough.”

“Yeah guys! You guys should respect your elders.” Wade pips up, making Logan nod and then stop. “Wait- what??”

“Oh I'm sorry gramps. Did you forget your hearing aids? I said-”

“You married that old man. So you can't tease him too much.” Morph mutters, interrupting Wade before he went down that rabbit hole.

“Oh, hell yes I did and I f-”

“Ah-Heh-hem! Children!” Kurt coughs into his hand, smiling a bit with a dash of purple across his cheeks.

“Right. Anyway… Race you to the campsite! Last one bunks with Ms. Wet dog over here!”

“Hey! Wait! Wade!!” Logan calls, not wanting them to get split up. It was still a good 100 meters until the campsite and the path was narrow here.

“No way you're beating me!!” Gabby says, taking off after him. Despite their protests, Some of the other kids took off too. The only ones who didn't were Leo, Ashley, and Carmen. Ashley and Carmen were older, 14, so they listened to the adult heros more than the younger ones. Owen wanted to stay with his mentor, Mr. Sydney. He was a nervous kid like that. Always near an adult.

Harley wasn't going to go either until Cherri took off and then Issac followed Harley, who mentioned something about him flying was cheating.

“Hey!! You know they're clipped!”

“What? I can't hear you from way back there!” She teased.

“....Storm is gonna kill us..” Moprh mumbles as Kurt decided to take initiative, trying to keep up with the children so they didn't get hurt or lost. “...Yup.” Logan mutters.

“..Mr. Howlett? Can you carry me? I'm tired.”

“You're always tired, Leo..” Logan sighs, picking up the lion cub, giving him a piggyback for the remaining walk.

Leo lion owned by @bougiebutchbinch

_______

Request by @joykai

Owen/Ivo owned by @rabiessnail

Issac/Harley/Cherri owned by me

[littleslaywrites]

pas de deux- the prince and sugar plum | spencer reid x bau!reader 

pt 4 of pas de deux - based on request by @kakamixoxo

summary: spencer brings your students (and you) gifts after their performance of the nutcracker

word count: 1.2k

cw: f!reader, fluff

After your week of subbing, your friend had asked you to help teach the little ones their dance for The Nutcracker. She knew you wouldn’t be able to resist, especially after the girls had begged you to visit them again. They were all just old enough for their first year in The Nutcracker as the gingersnaps, and you had been enlisted to be their first introduction to the show.

Growing up, winter doubled as nutcracker season. You’d danced almost every role by the time you graduated college, knowing the show inside and out. Your friend briefly showed you the choreography, simple to accommodate for the beginning dancers. 

Teaching them was a little easier than their regular classes. They understood the excitement of joining the older dancers in a “real” show. You could also coax them into behaving with your own stories of your own past performances.

The girls kept asking for a visit from Mr. Spencer, and after a month of begging, you finally agreed. They had been working hard, so you told Spencer to come by after work. When he walked in the door, the girls cheered, even more excited to see him than you were.

“Can Mr. Spencer learn our dance?” one of your students asked.

“If he agrees to behave,” you say, always looking for a way to tease him. 

The simple steps turned out to be just right for him, and he quickly perfected the skips and little hops. Even the girls were excited about his success, encouraging him in the same way you did for them. 

“Maybe I could perform with you,” he joked at the end of rehearsal. Your students were less enthusiastic about this idea, concluding that he was too tall to blend in with them. As he left, he promised that he’d come see the show. This was perfect, as you could use it as leverage for them to focus whenever they got distracted. You’d remind them that they needed to perform their best as “Mr. Spencer would be in the audience,” which would always make them concentrate.

As you were in the studio, Spencer read the book the ballet was based on. When you were in bed that night, he told you all the differences he found between the show and the origin. You listened intently, savoring his bedtime story. He was truly interested in everything you were passionate about, wanting to learn about everything related to you. 

Eventually, opening night arrived. You opted for a short green dress, and Spencer decided on a red tie to create a festive color scheme between the two of you. Knowing how much you loved the gifts he gave you after all your performances, he’d gone out and bought all your dancers small nutcracker ornaments.

“You look amazing,” he says, kissing you after he’d parked the car outside the theater.

“It feels weird to not be the one performing,” you say. 

You never imagined you could be more nervous in the audience than backstage, but sitting in the theater, you couldn’t help but worry for your girls. You could only imagine how they felt, never having stepped on a stage in front of so many people before. 

Sensing your jitters, Spencer grabs your hand. “They’ll do great,” he says, squeezing, “considering they had a fantastic teacher.” You smile, lightly kissing his cheek. 

The performance goes smoothly, your girls remembering all their steps. Once their part is over, you’re able to relax and enjoy the rest of the second act. The ballet feels like watching a replay of your life, from your first role en pointe as Clara to your last role in college as Sugar Plum.

You rest your head on Spencer’s shoulder during the pas between Sugar Plum and the prince. It seems like the music has taken on another life after you met Spencer. You could always feel the love written into it, but now you understood how it felt to experience it yourself. Spencer feels the same, imagining the two of you as the characters. Even if he couldn’t dance in the literal sense, he’d mastered the routine you had together.

At the end of the show, you make your way to the stage door. When the young dancers see you, they all make a run for you, capturing your legs in a hug. Next, they see Spencer, holding the bag with their gifts in it.

“I’ve got something for you all,” he says, crouching to meet them at their level. “I always get Miss y/n a gift after her performances, so I thought you all should get something, too.”

He pulls out the tiny nutcrackers, and the girls thank him and pull him into a group hug. “Consider this an official apology for distracting you all during class.” The girls giggle, all trying to convince him that he wasn’t a disruption and that he should visit more often.

“Did you know that, according to German folklore, nutcrackers are said to bring good luck?” he says as he hands each girl their ornament.

When all the girls have their gifts and have left to find their parents, Spencer grabs your hand and leads you back to the car. 

“I told you they’d do well,” he says as you climb into the passenger seat. “I know you weren’t actually performing, but I still got you something.” Reaching to the backseat, he pulls out a gift bag and hands it to you.

Inside is a record of the music from The Nutcracker. Spencer knows you collect records, both of your archives merging when you moved in together. 

Next is a pair of earrings, shaped like little nutcrackers. “I thought you could wear them when we come for closing night,” he says. 

“They’re perfect,” you say, “The girls will be obsessed.”

Last is a small white box containing cookies in the shape of snowflakes. You take a bite right away. “It’s good,” you say through your full mouth. Spencer smiles, reaching for one himself.

“I think we should make this a tradition,” Spencer says, taking your hand. 

“I like that idea.” You rub your thumb over his as he drives home, light snowflakes waltzing down to the windshield. 

“I wish I could’ve seen you perform in it.”

“You know, I’m sure my mom has videos of all the shows,” you say. 

“I’d love to see that.” You glance at him to see his bright smile. Love fills you as you see his genuineness, fully interested in watching some old home videos that haven’t been touched by anyone but your parents.

That night, you call your mom, who promises to mail the tapes to you. You put on the new record, letting the music bring back memories of another life. You used to wonder if you’d made the wrong career choice. You’d given up the opportunity to dance professionally after college, choosing a career in the FBI instead. That choice haunted you for a while, but as you stand in the apartment you share with Spencer, you realize where your decision had led you. Ballet will always be a part of you, but it’s not what put Spencer in your life. Looking over at where he sits on the couch, you thank your past self for bringing this life to you.

[hxlxnaaa]

𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐚𝐝𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞

★ synopsis: haunted by your own loneliness, it seems the only cure is to create an imaginary friend

★ character: xavier

★ cw: first-person POV, angst if you squint, real world au, maybe ooc xavier? not really

★ word count: 1.6k

★ a/n: inspired by maladaptive daydreaming! strays so far from canon storyline obviously so this is hella HELLA au, but MC still has her heart problems lmao

When it comes to children, it isn’t surprising when you find out they have an imaginary friend. They’ll giggle, and their eyes will light up as they tell you about their talking dog, who has tea parties with them and rides on the back of their bike. Or the teddy bear that comes to life at night to tell them bedtime stories and help them count sheep.

Yet, eventually, the time comes where they grow up. No longer do talking dogs and dancing dolls follow them around, and the child won’t talk about their little friend anymore, leaving them behind. They fade from one’s memory, a ghost long forgotten…

But what if they don't?

What if they never grow out of their ‘imaginary friend’? What if it follows them all throughout their life? A schizo diagnosis would be in order, and years of therapy.

Sadly, that’s how it is for me; well, not the “seeing things and copious amounts of therapy” part.

He’s just… a coping mechanism.

A world to go to in my head when everything feels as if it’s crashing down. I don’t know where I’d be without him.

When I was small, no one seemed to enjoy my presence. I was always considered a nuisance with all of my heart problems. Making real friends was hard; people would up and leave after a few months, and I’d be alone again. I was a bother, in and out of doctors offices and never able to hang out. Texts would go ignored because I was too busy having tests run in cold hospital beds, hooked up to machines.

The nurses would joke with me, braid my hair and tell me gossip since I was in there so much – but it wasn’t the same as having friends my age that I can go to the movies with. So, when I finally came to the conclusion I’d be alone forever, I made a friend.

Yes, I made a friend.

I put all the qualities of my ideal friend in him; He was straight out of a cool, teen indie movie — the perfect boy next door. He would be the best friend you could go on long road trips with, get donuts with at ungodly hours in the morning. Quiet enough that I could talk for hours and he would just listen, but could still make me laugh with little remarks.

Since nobody else would talk to me, and I had far too much time on my hands, I would travel into my own little world in my head where he existed. I’d talk to him everyday, hang out with him for hours. Whether I was in class, the car, or laying in my bed staring at my ceiling, I’d dissociate into a world where someone truly, really cared about me.

This went on for years. No matter my problem, he’d always have a solution, no matter my opinion, he’d always listen. He was my knight in shining armor from bad dreams and boring moments.

Eventually, I put so much detail into him, it felt as if he was real.

I could practically reach out and touch his hair, know what it would feel like to run my fingers through his messy platinum hair. Pointing out every emotion in his blue eyes, from the joy that sparkled in them when I would tell him jokes that only he would understand, or when they clouded over with worry when I would come to him crying after a stressful day. The moments his angelic smile would let out his signature laugh that would ring in my ears for hours, and I could practically hear it in reality. Or the way I could cringe at him when he would act like an awkward dork, but his giggles made me grin, and I always put up with him. It’s almost as if I could smell the soft fresh laundry scent of him, feel his warm skin from sleep.

Sometimes, I could go months without thinking about the truth;

but sometimes, there were days it would hit me like a truck.

“You’re not real!” I’d cry. He’d be sitting on my bed with me. Reaching out his hand, I’d flinch away. “None of this is real Xavier! You’re not real, this world isn’t real. I’m stuck in this reality where everything is hell, and I have nothing.”

“Hey, I need you to breathe-” This would be one of those moments where I could read his eyes. They’re always so alive, you wouldn’t be able to tell it was all a dream I created in my mind. His electric eyes that would go dark with a whirl-wind of emotions. Sadness, worry, disappointment. It would always be like I could actually see him in front of me, and not like I would be staring at my ceiling sobbing in my bed;

Alone.

No matter what, I’d always forget reality again, and he always came crawling back. We’d pretend like none of it ever happened. Of course it worked, why wouldn’t it? I controlled everything. All of his moves, all of his words, every laugh that came out of his beautiful mouth. He was my puppet and this was my play, just an actor in this devastating work of theatre.

I’d find myself mentioning him without realizing.

“My brother nearly burned down the kitchen yesterday!” One of the girls in my classes had said, groaning and throwing her face in her hands.

I smiled, “I have a friend like that. His cooking skills are… well let's just say calling it ‘cooking’ might be a bit generous.”

They all wiggled their eyebrows, ‘Ooo,’ they’d say, ‘he? Come on, are you holding out on us!’ Laughter erupted around the table, and my cheeks flushed. My whole body lit up with embarrassment, turning red from head to toe.

That night I went home and threw myself into my room, locking my door and screaming at the top of my lungs. Choking out sobs, throwing whatever my frail, shaking hands could grab.

“He’s not real! He’s! Not! Real!” I chanted like a prayer, a prayer that he would just disappear from my mind and I could just be normal. I felt defeated; while my heart struggled, my mind was strained too. My whole world, my entire life revolved around a boy that didn’t exist.

After my breakdown and a shattering ego death, I came to the heart wrenching conclusion that it was time I got over all of this. I needed to grow up, focus on the life ahead of me. I was going to graduate highschool, I was going to go to school to achieve my dreams, I was chasing the life I always wanted.

All by myself.

I couldn’t live the rest of my life tucking myself away everytime life got hard, talking to someone that I made in my head.

I grieved him, mourning as if I had suffered the death of someone so close to me I couldn't bear to go on without him. Yet, with time, the wounds began to heal and the chronic, plaguing thoughts of him fleeted my head. I tucked him deep into a pocket of my mind I couldn’t access if I tried, just to keep myself safe from my own thoughts.

Thanks to all the attention I poured into my studies to distract myself from the emptiness of him being gone, I graduated with excellent grades and got into my first choice, the university of my dreams.

Walking down the campus sidewalk, I took a deep breath of the brand newness of everything. The cold fall air was putting hustle in everyone's strides on the first day of classes, and I mumbled a prayer that things would be different. Life would be different. Things wouldn’t be so lonely or empty anymore.

Trying to navigate my way around, someone bumped into me, almost knocking the both of us down.

They stumbled back, revealing a boy's shy smile, and a quiet chuckle that sounded like an angel's song you’d want to replay on repeat for the rest of your life; one I was all too familiar with.

“Oh, I should have looked where I was going, sorry-”

The boy trailed off and I couldn’t help but stare at him in awe.

The sparkling blue eyes, and his fluffy hair tousled around from the fall wind. The smile that could light a room, and a face that could melt thousands of hearts. He shone bright like a star. I thought if I breathed, or even blinked, he would disappear.

“Anyways, It’s my first day. Well, it’s everyone's first day, but it’s my first…first day. Does that make sense?” He frowned and his ears turned red, as met my eyes for the first time during the whole interaction.

I blinked, and let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding, as he didn’t disappear, “Uh, yeah. It’s my first-first day too.”

The boy laughed, his shyness fading. He could laugh a million times, and I’d keep saying things to keep it going. I never wanted it to stop, I wanted to hear it until the moment I took my last breath.

“Well since it’s both of our first-first day, I guess I’ll be seeing you around campus a lot…” he paused, waiting for my name.

I whispered it so quietly, like it was a curse to speak it out loud. I wasn’t even sure he’d heard me, yet he nodded and softly smiled.

“It’s nice to meet you then. I’m Xavier.”

(divider by cafekitsune)

[zaine-m]

first responders Arcane AU

Typically most first responders in Piltover come from the richer side of town but Heimerdinger, a local politician decided that the more underprivileged part of town, Zaun would be helped by having a police unit with some zaunites on it. He also got a fire unit and paramedic unit to hirer some zaunites.

Viktor was a medical student who lost his scholarship after too many missed classes due to his illness. Heimerdinger hired him as his assistant and after Viktor found out about the new paramedic unit he begged Heimerdinger to let him join it. Heimderdinger eventually gave after a lot of convincing that Viktor's illness wouldn't be problem, plus he needed someone to ensure the program would run smoothly. The other paramedics are Sky, Steb, and Ekko

Jayce is freshly out of the fire fighter academy. He wanted to be a firefighter since he was little and one saved him and his mother from a house fire. The other firefighters are Vi, Claggor, and Loris.

Caitlyn always wanted to be a police officer but her parent's never let her. She got Heimerdinger to leverage the new program and needing someone trustable to look over the police unit to convince her parents. Other police: Mylo, Maddie, and Jinx

Jinx is still in high school and rides along with the police a couple times a week as a mentoring program for at risk teens. Ekko is a part of the same program but rides along with the paramedic team.

I'm gonna say in this AU mylo and claggor survived but Vander still died after while firefighting after an explosion in the building where Silco was making drugs. Vander wasn't working at the time of the explosion but when he heard about it and how there could be people trapped he ran straight to the building, not bothering to get his gear on. When he came out of the building, injured and needing help the police questioned him, thinking he was a part of the gang, before letting him get medical care which contributed to him not being able to survive the incident.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

What you said about Miss Raven going from being an "onlooker"/more of a side character to being the main character of her own story really resonated with me 🥲 and tbh it inspires me to try and give my own ocs some more story/value in canon... bc I tend to always purposefully make characters that can "blend in the background", or like... that could work as side characters if they were canon. Not really invisible, but not quite important either. But your work has inspired me to try and push my own boundaries a little bit and try to make a character that could work as one of the main cast... ᕙ⁠(⁠⇀⁠‸⁠↼⁠‶⁠)⁠ᕗ

Also, unrelated to my first point but- reading Raven going against her "destiny" and remembering some posts you did a while back really gave me EAH vibes in the best way possible 🥹 I love whenever a writer's inspo can shine through their own writings. Which made me think... I think Miss Raven could fit very well into the EAH universe (from what I recall about it)! I mean, we already have someone with the same name there 😭 But ignoring that, I'd love to see a "what if...!?" of her in the EAH world someday, if you ever would like to do smth like that HAHDHHSDH

( No more permanent ink, this is not what you think 🎶 )

Twst x Ever After High AU discussion: part 1 / part 2 / part 3

Oooh, I’m glad you found some meaning in that aspect of her story! I think finding one’s confidence is something a lot of us struggle with, especially if the people we spend our time around seem so much stronger or more skilled than we are. In the world of fandom, maybe that feeling translates into being shy about sharing our very personal creations with the world. That’s also a common sentiment, and I wanted it to resonate with my readers.

For me, a large part of the appeal of Twst is that every character has their own life and feels organic in the world. It’s not like they’re only ever seen in class or with certain other characters. They go to places, act and think for themselves, interact with everyone in unique ways. I like to think the mob students are like this too, even if we don’t see much of them. Everyone is out there doing their own thing, and that’s so beautiful. I hope you’re able to make something like that, if that is what you wish for.

Yes, EAH and Princess Tutu (which is also very fairy-tale laden) were massive inspirations for me ✨ I've never really thought about inserting Raven into worlds outside of Twst though. I know some people like to repurpose their preexisting OCs to plop into various franchises, but I'm the type that tends to make OCs specific to them. Twisted Wonderland is Miss Raven's comfy home! I wouldn't stop other people's imaginations though www

[a-confused-spoon]

"Arcane was always about love" very very close! It just featured loving characters and relationships, which isn't the same!

It was actually about how "love and legacy are the sacrifices we make for progress" as reflected by Silco's monster ideology to achieve independence and the Council constantly neglecting Zaun, twin sister city of Piltover, for prestige on the bigger picture, and on a minor scale how Jinx had to let go of the idea of Vi's love to fully embrace her potential, and Jayce focusing more on what he can do as a councilor instead of as a scientist (his legacy) and with Viktor (who he loves), and Ekko being unable to let go of his love for Powder even if for the sake of moving forward in the battle against Silco, and Mel having to choose between her love for her mom and the peace pact that Jayce puts on the table for the sake of both cities, and Vi not understanding that destroying Silco and his empire would've driven the sister she loves so dearly away- y'know, it was an ever present thing (as core themes usually are I believe) around which the rest of the themes were written (class divide, found family etc).

And what the story tackled with said core theme was specifically - I can't stress this enough - how hard it is to make that choice because there's not an obvious answer and it's not the same one for every case, especially when there are consequences outside the one's personal sphere, which was exactly why every decision the characters made drove the story forward.

But yes, if you were to transfer the "didn't he try to kill you?" / "Sometimes the best thing we can do is to forgive :D" exchange from s2 to any point in time of s1 it would sounds absolutely natural and reasonable within the context of the story because you should be able to find it you to forgive those who wronged you in the name love- or love conquers all or whatever it is that you mean with "arcane was always about love"- was certainly always the point.

...fyi I'm not saying that s2 can't or shouldn't be enjoyed for what it is (as I know I partly did before taking a step back and questioning a couple things), I'm just saying it made the show lose track of its center point and I think it's something worth noting.