#but every time i try to figure it out like a puzzle like i did with my sexuality the first time i realise i dont really have an answer

[neuroticbookworm]

Rose's Day of Asks

What are some of the shows where your hyperfixation really thrived? (I have no idea if this sentence makes sense but I hope you get what I mean)

Have a great Day💜

I opened a blank doc and put this list together 3 minutes after I received this ask 10 (yes you read that right, ten) months ago, and then I let it sit in my drafts for no reason other than making myself miserable. Anyway, I woke up today and decided to release this into the wild, for.. reasons *wink wink*

Over the years of consuming media, I've observed that there are a few key factors of said media that heavily contribute to my hyperfixation brainrot:

Smart and snappy writing

Good romance arc that convinces me to believe in the couple

Treating the miscommunication trope as the plague that it is

And with that handy lil list, let’s get into it.

The Untamed / Mo Dao Zu Shi

I binge-read Mo Dao Zu Shi or The Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation during the 2023 Holiday Season, and my brain was immediately taken hostage and was not released from its grasp for several months. I then binge-watched The Untamed with @lurkingshan during the 2024 Holiday Season and promptly lost my mind yet again. For a story that handles so many nuanced characters and their complex relationships between multiple narrative threads, it coheres so well that it almost looks easy. From the politics of the xianxia world it is set in, to the decade-and-some-long romance arc between Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian, every part of this story is meticulously layered. Almost every character in this show evokes complicated feelings in me, and I am not gonna stop thinking about them anytime soon.

I Cannot Reach You

I’ve never felt so connected to a show as I did with I Cannot Reach You as I was watching it. It was as if the show had a direct line to my braincells, listened to exactly what I wanted from it, and then immediately obliged. Every boy in this show is so precious to me: Yamato, who tried so damn hard to confess his feelings to his best friend, no matter how many silly BL tropes tried to stop him; Kakeru, who tackled his best friend into a hug and held him in place so he can't walk away from him without talking about his feelings; Hosaka, the closest thing to a self-insert I’ve experienced in BLs, strutting around and calling these fucking boys out on their dumbassery.

This show has no patience for frustrating, overwrought trope silliness and prioritizes rooting its characters in their humanness. When Kakeru punched Yamato for trying to play a clumsy, pining romantic hero after conveniently forgetting his confession to Kakeru and then kissing him, I damn near ascended into a higher plane.

His (2020)

Oh this movie made me cry ugly tears after a long time, y’all. This movie, at its core, is about a bunch of people who tried so hard to not hurt the people they love, but ended up hurting them in the process anyway. Shun’s quiet sadness broke me. We see Nagisa in tears multiple times in this movie, always begging for forgiveness from the loved ones in his life: Shun, Rena, and Sora. Rena trying so damn hard to not let her anger, that stemmed from the trauma of being married to a closeted gay man, impact her daughter’s relationship with her dad and his partner, got me in my fucking chest. I think about the movie’s final scene where Rena tells Shun that she doesn't know how to ride a bike, at least twice a week.

Utsukushii Kare

The chokehold this show had on me for the two days I watched it, tearing my hair out in the process of trying to figure out what Hira’s and Kiyoi’s deals were, is second to none. I was completely fascinated by Hira’s idol worship of Kiyoi, and was trying so hard to understand the flavor of frustration that I could see in Kiyoi. I tried to solve Kiyoi’s face when Hira tried to commit murder like a goddamn puzzle. I went full bulletin-board-with-red-strings insane trying to figure out the inner workings of their brain. And when I finally got to The Revelation.. the scream I SCRUMPT. What a show, what a time, what an experience.

La Pluie

Ah, La Pluie, how I love you so dearly. It was one of the first BLs I watched as it aired weekly, and I had so many thoughts about it after every episode that I joined the La Pluie Meta Tsunami on Tumblr. This show consistently gave me brainrot week after week, all the way till the finale. It took the classic romance trope of soulmates, decided to deconstruct and interrogate it with its four main characters, and executed the themes flawlessly. I am still so glad that this show stuck to the courage of its convictions. And as always, here’s the link to The Great La Pluie Meta Roundup.

Theory of Love

*unleashes an evil witch laugh*

I sing praises for this show every chance I get, and most recently I did it on the latest The Conversation podcast episode. It is in that very episode that @bengiyo had a brilliant brainwave, which led to @lurkingshan conceptualizing and launching the Theory of Love: The Romcom Rewatch project at a speed that makes me fear her powers. This show is special to me for so many reasons, including being the one that made me break out of my lurker tendencies on Tumblr. I hyperfixated on this show so hard that I started *sharing my thoughts* on the Internet.

I am hoping to write many, many words for this show in the coming weeks, so lemme wrap up by highlighting how this show stands out from the rest on this list. Theory of Love has the most flaws compared to the other shows on this list. One of my main qualms with the show is that the side couples did not add to the main theme in any way, rendering them inoffensive, but ineffective additions. And yet. And yet. This show lives and will live rent-free in my head till the inevitable heat death of the world as we know it. The growth arc of Khai is one of my all-time favorites in media, and I think about it every time I see a fictional or real-life man behave as if they are deathly allergic to change. I am so excited for the rewatch project, and I can’t wait to share the thoughts that’ll be knocked loose in my head for the next 12 weeks.

Thank you so much for the ask, @my-rose-tinted-glasses, and I hope you like my extremely overdue response <3

[grandwretch]

may i make a suggestion: there's two eddies, much like the episode of teen titans where there's multiple ravens when they have to go into her brain to save her.

the first eddie they meet is most like the eddie they're trying to rescue, so it's easy to accept him as Real Eddie. he's a lot quieter than real eddie, though. more prone to tears. he clings to steve's arm and flinches away from loud noises. the longer they go the less steve is convinced that this is really eddie, but the guy just died, so maybe he's just going through something. besides, steve can't ignore the way this eddie provokes his protective instincts-- every part of him wants to scoop eddie in a blanket and cuddle him against his chest for... forever, really.

when they run into dark eddie, steve is more than willing to accept the initial theory that this is somehow vecna's influence on eddie's mind, or a reaction to the bat venom, or something. there's no way this is the real eddie-- eddie wouldn't hurt the kids, no matter what. but dark eddie remembers steve. he flirts with steve in public. he presses steve against walls and holds weapons to his throat and purrs dark promises. he smiles like real eddie. and every time those little glimpses of eddie give steve the same thrill that they did in the upside down, stomach clenching and a shiver going down his spine.

while the rest of the party is trying to figure out how to save eddie, steve is silently working through a puzzle of his own: who is the real eddie? which of steve's feelings for eddie are real?

of course, at the end it turns out they're both real. both sides of eddie are equally important to making up who he is as a person. if they can just make eddie, both eddies, accept that then maybe they can save him.

maybe steve accepting that the feelings he has for both eddies still apply to the real eddie, the eddie they're trying to bring back, could go a long way in proving that.

Steddie idea inspired by Star Trek holodeck episodes:

Eddie survives but they have to go into his mind to wake him up. When they get into Eddie's mindscape they are all turned into dnd characters and have to go through a dnd style dungeon to save him.

There is a dark!Eddie popping in and out who is running the game as DM.

[nerdie-faerie]

Currently thinking about the last time I met up with my college friends, and we went around the table reintroducing ourselves with names and pronouns, cus it gets like that. And every time it would come around to me, I would deflect and distract instead of answering because I hadn't actually figured it out yet. It's coming up on a year since then, I still have no idea what the answer would be

[dravidious]

You're more amazing than dead bodies

Spent the morning playing an indie game called Supraland that I got somehow ages ago, maybe from a bundle or something, and it's a pretty decent puzzle-platformer game, but for some reason it also has combat in it? And the combat is really bad, you just spam attack as fast as possible and the enemies take like 10 hits to kill, it's a pain. And then they gave me a combo attack that does 100 damage in a big AoE and it kills every basic enemy in one blast, and it's basically free to use, so now the combat is just. nothing. Lesson of the day: Don't put combat in a game if you don't want to make good combat.

[shxuga]

Not said | Sylus

I'm in love with this man, and I wanted to introduce myself by writing something about him in the best way… fluffy and self-indulgent! I hope you enjoy the read, English is not my first language ;; Likes and respoted are aprecciates!

It was crazy...

Yes, crazy. Because... How did you go from repudiating and fearing the infamous leader of Onychinus... to... to this?

His soft hair shook as he rocked his face to the left, settling his sleeping form better into your bed. And, clearly, as the mature woman you are and not at all affected by his celestial beauty, you did not annihilate the voracious impulse to shake your legs and slide your fingers through his pretty grayish strands.

You sighed, feeling out of place in your own home. In your own bed! With the curtains closed, somehow trying to wipe most of brightness of Linkon's sun, that your... Ally? Buddy? Lover...?

Gosh, you weren't even sure about that...

Yes, definitely, crazy.

You couldn't even try to figure out Sylus. No matter how hard you tried to collect each piece of his complex puzzle... Most of the time you felt at a dead end.

You blame his pretty voice, his sharp but gentle features, the damn way he pronounced your name, and how he acted when it came to you. God, his damn treatment of you...! That started being so cold, almost spiteful, as if with his words and behavior he will "subtly" (because the bastard wasn't subtle at all!) demand that you remember something he didn't even bother to explain.

The memories in your mind were confusing, blurry and melancholic.

It was strange...

You did not remember exactly that mysterious past, and your "first" meeting was undoubtedly bitter... And now, much to your regret, is the moment where you most feel that your relationship with him wanders on a different astral plane! Completely unrelated!

Because... What the hell were you two?!

There was something implicit there, something mutual that, for better or worse, neither of you had dared to utter. Plus, he completely contradicted himself at times like these. Where the words become extinct, the walls collapse and only that soft perfume of vulnerability remains that surrounds both.

When the cold, calculating and demanding leader became a mirage, leaving only a man... just Sylus.

When he laughed at your antics, and his pretty eyes crinkled in tenderness. Or when he poured honey from his lips, calling you affectionate nicknames that made the butterflies in your stomach flutter. The stolen pettings, where his fingers lingered longer than they should along your hair, those times when his knuckles subtly traced your shoulders and the sides of your arms, or those moments where he let his fingers protectively around your waist.

Moments like these... Where without warning he arrived at your apartment, and took over your bed. If you had a nickel for every time his actions nearly gave you a heart attack, chances are your wealth would begin to rival his.

"Can't you sleep?" His hoarse, sleepy voice startles you, tearing you out of the limbo of your thoughts.

"How could I? It's past twelve." You complain, to which he hums, slowly opening his eyelids.

And there it is again.

Those damn eyes... Those eyes that looked at you as if you were the most important thing to him, with absolute adoration. Full of that affection that made your skin tingle and your knees weak. God, how come this man who initially acted like a demon... Did it end like this?

Overwhelmed, you decided to look away.

His large hand cupped your chin with a firm softness, encouraging you to return your gaze to him.

"Yeah? Is that why you haven't taken your eyes off me?"

Damn.

At this point, it should no longer surprise you that he'll notice those things... But damn! That didn't make it any less embarrassing.

He must have noticed your embarrassment, because his sly smile widened.

"You were looking at me with such intensity that I thought you were going to pierce my face, kitten."

"I-I don't...!" Excuses die out in your tongue, there is no use arguing. You push his hand away and sigh. "Just... I was just thinking."

That gets his attention. He rests his face on his bent arms, and you try hard to pretend that it is something as banal to other mortals as settling into bed, they make it look so perfect, so ethereal, like a muse out of a painting.

It was driving you crazy.

"Yeah? And what were you thinking, pretty?"

Once again, you have to do your best to put on your best poker face to disguise the effect that their disgustingly (wonderful, perfect, amazing) cloying nicknames have on you.

"Nothing in particular..." Your lie is evident, especially by how you avoid his gaze and nervously play with the bedsheets.

He hums, of course he doesn't believe you, in fact, you're sure he already gets the idea... But, as always, he gives you your space, followed with silent reverence the path you chose, and sticks to you with each of your decisions.

Instead, he pulls your arm and wraps it around you lazily, settling your face into his chest, barely hidden under a thin tank top. You can feel his nose on your hair, gently inhaling. Shame pulses through your bloodstream. 

"Sy-Sylus...?!"

"Just pretend I'm one of your plushies and try to get some sleep." Sylus pronounces, and you perceive how drowsiness quickly takes over him. There's nothing you can do, not when those strong arms have you happily captive in their embrace. You can only huff and resign. You listen carefully to the pulse of his heart, as erratic as ever, even when he is in this calm state.

The haze of your memories returns to you for an instant. The smell of sulfur and blood, your fingers on a sword and his voice encouraging you not to stop pressing the dagger... Or else, there would be no turning back.

Absently, your fingers outline where the scar should be, unaware of the effect your touch has on it. He shivers, one of his eyes opens and you feel how his gaze shines with intensity, while he holds your wrist firmly with his fingers.

"Kitten..." He warns, and you lower your hands quickly. He laughs, that rich tone, snuggling back into you.

Once again, a sigh leaves your lips. You imitate him, burying your face in his chest, delighting in the persistent rumble of his heart and the manly scent of his cologne.

Yes, there was a lot he hadn't said... But his actions were very clear. And that was enough, at least for now.

[thekitsunesiren]

Dc x DP #50: Accidentally Kidnapping a (ex) Crime Lord

(I've seen that reverse trope list, so I just had to do it. I might do more in the future. But for now, here's accidentally kidnapping a mafia boss in dc x dp format) Jason awoke with a low groan, slowly lifting his head as his eyes blinked to take in his location.

It had happened so quick. So quick that he couldn't even blink.

There was word going around Crime Alley of a new stray making their way around. Which wasn't new given that it's Crime Alley and Gotham altogether, but there was definitely something wrong with the kid.

Apparently everyone who met him got some odd vibe. Like there was something wrong with him. Many said that he was a meta on the run, but there were others that didn't believe that.

And when Jason found out he was in Crime Alley, it was like something cold walked through him. Like someone was walking over his grave. Figuratively and literally. Something bigger than him was in his territory. Something dangerous. And every bit of him said that it was the new kid.

So Jason set out to look for him. He wasn't going to let the others find out about this, not when it was on his turg. And perhaps if he could figure out what he was, perhaps ask why he calmed the pits in such a way.

He looked into the kid, a Daniel "Danny" Nightingale from the looks of it, and that he was only sixteen. No talk about any parents, but there was word of an older sister, Jasmine Nightingale, that was going to Gotham University to study psychology. But other than that? Nothing. Zilch. As if the two appeared out of nowhere. LIke ghosts.

So, Jason took to tracking him physically. Trying to figure out where he went and if he met with anyone in particular that might raise suspicion. Whether it be some other thugs or a some gang of some sort. But he had no such luck. Not because he wasn't meeting anyone, it was he always lost him. Every corner he turned, he was always gone when Jason walked around to follow him. It was like the kid was a ghost. Did he know that he was being followed?

It was late one night when Jason caught sight of Danny on his own, walking down the street with his hands stuffed in his pockets. Thinking that he was either going to meet someone or head home, he decided to trail him and see if he could finally fill another piece of this puzzle that was Nightingale.

Jason was right on his heels as he turned the corner leading to another street, ready to confront him. But once again, Nightingale was gone.

And before he could even curse or question as to where he could've gone so quickly, a heavy thunk was heard as something heavy hit the back of Jason's head. The last thing he saw before losing unconsciousness was a pair of worn sneakers as as the attacker approached him.

Which lead him to here: tied up in a worn down apartment. Nightingale standing across from him in what he supposed was a threatening manner. A baseball bat with a faded glowing green sticker on its base. Jason could make out the word 'Fenton' on it and made sure to look up that name later once he was out of this mess. But for now, he had to deal with NIghtingale.

Jason turned his attention to him, but with his helmet on he doubted Nightingale could tell whether his gaze shifted to his chosen weapon or not. But the slightest movement was enough to tell Nightingale that Jason was indeed awake from his unconscious state.

But before Jason could speak or make any comment about the situation, Nightingale beat him to it.

"What do you want with me?" He asked bluntly. It was one question that Jason wasn't expecting, so he stared at Nightingale confused.

"What?" Came the robotic reply of his voice filter. Apparently that wasn't the right answer as Nightingale let out a frustrated huff and waved his bat towards him.

"What do you want with me? You've been following me for some time and it's getting annoying? What are you? A thug? A goon? Or are you another rogue trying to make it big. Gotta say; not a good start just by stalking someone if you were."

His words had shocked Jason to his core for various reasons. One: he didn't know who Jason was. Two: apparently he was skilled in knowing when he was followed and Jason couldn't tell. And three: HE DIDN'T KNOW WHO JASON WAS!

Jason let out a dry laugh as he realized that he was serious about his questions. Nightingale has been here for months at least. So how did he not know about the notorious Red Hood? His reputation usually brought fear to those. It was strange for someone in Gotham not to know about him.

"Do you seriously not know who I am?" Jason asked, his eyebrow raised in a question even though his hood covered it, he was sure that Nightingale understood his confusion. His blue eyes shining in confusion as he tilted his head.

"No? Are you a rogue already? Ancients, they keep popping up every week." He groaned, rubbing the bridge of his nose. And while Jason could agree to the sentiment, he needed to get to the bottom of Nightingale and what he was doing here. And whether or not he was a threat to Gotham, or at least Crime Alley.

"I wouldn't call myself a rogue. Not anymore at least. The name's Red Hood, kid." Jason answered gruffly, eyes still focused on Nightingale as he waited for his reaction.

Nightingale titled his head at the name. Recognition flashing his eyes as he heard it.

"Red Hood? But isn't that guy that runs crime alley? Why would that-"

His eyes widened in dawning horror, his already pale skin seeming to get paler as he came to a realization as he stared at Jason. More specifically, his hood.

Jason expected some panic. That perhaps Nightingale might even try to knock him out again or hightail it out of his apartment. But instead he just continued to stare at Jason in ever growing horror as he whispered,

"Oh Ancients, I just kidnapped a crime lord." Now, there was a lot that Jason wanted to unpack from this interaction, but for some reason the first thing that came out his mouth was-

"It's ex crime lord."

[urdreamydoodles]

Could we get some headcannons on how X-Men characters would deal with an s/o who struggles with verbal communication? (I was thinking someone who just struggles with words but they could be deaf or mute as well)

Like instead of talking they use notes, or gestures, or even actual sign language to communicate. I was thinking it’s usually done when the reader is struggling to ask for something directly, or just convey what they’re thinking.

(I wasn’t sure if you’d want specific characters to think of or if you’d want free rein, but I’ll list a few of my favourites; Wolverine, Nightcrawler, Gambit, Storm, Morph, Magneto, Beast)

X-Men x Reader

You struggles with verbal communication

Characters: Logan Howlett, Remy LeBeau, Kurt Wagner, Scott Summers, Ororo Munroe, Morph, Erik Lehnsherr, Hank McCoy, Jean Grey, Rogue, Cable & Wade Wilson

Logan Howlett aka. Wolverine

- You’d been living at the mansion for a while, and while most people understood your struggle with verbal communication, Logan didn’t seem to get it at first. He wasn’t rude about it, but his gruff nature often led him to misinterpret your gestures. “What, you can’t just spit it out?” he’d ask, crossing his arms. You’d roll your eyes and scribble something on a notepad, sliding it over to him with a sharp look. He’d grumble but take it, slowly realizing how much effort you were putting into every interaction.

- Logan started paying closer attention over time. He noticed how your hands moved when you gestured, how your eyes flicked to certain objects when you wanted something. He wasn’t the type to ask outright, but he started observing quietly, learning your nonverbal cues like he was piecing together a puzzle. One day, you found him practicing basic ASL signs in the corner of the library. “Figured it might make things easier,” he said when you caught him, scratching the back of his neck.

- He surprised you by using those signs during casual conversations, albeit a bit clumsily at first. When you were struggling to ask for help one day, he simply signed, What do you need? It wasn’t perfect, but it was enough to bring tears to your eyes. “Don’t get all weepy on me, kid,” he grumbled, handing you a tissue. Still, the small smile tugging at his lips showed he was proud of himself.

- Logan’s protectiveness shone through in unexpected ways. If someone gave you a hard time about not speaking, he’d step in with a sharp glare that could silence a room. “Got a problem with how they communicate?” he’d growl, leaving no room for argument. You never asked him to defend you, but his unwavering support made you feel seen in ways you hadn’t before.

- Over time, the two of you grew closer. Logan’s patience, hidden beneath his rough exterior, was a balm to your insecurities. One evening, after a particularly long day, you handed him a note that read, Thank you for understanding me. He read it silently, then looked up at you with an intensity that made your heart race. “Ain’t nothin’ to thank me for,” he said softly. “You’re worth the effort.”

- The shift from friendship to romance was seamless. Logan wasn’t one for grand declarations, but his actions spoke volumes. He started carrying a small notepad for you, just in case you ran out of paper. And when he kissed you for the first time, it was tender, unhurried, as if he was trying to convey all the words he knew you struggled to say. “You don’t need words with me, darlin’,” he whispered against your lips. “I get you just fine.”

Remy LeBeau aka. Gambit

- Remy was instantly intrigued by your quiet nature, his curiosity piqued when he saw you using gestures and notes to communicate. “Mon cher, you always this mysterious?” he teased with a charming smirk. At first, you thought he was just flirting like he did with everyone, but his genuine interest shone through when he started trying to decode your gestures without making you uncomfortable.

- He quickly turned your communication struggles into a game, guessing what you were trying to say with an exaggerated flair. “You tryin’ to tell me you hungry? Or you just wanna see ol’ Remy look like a fool?” he’d say, making you laugh silently. His lighthearted approach made it easier for you to relax, even when you struggled to get your point across.

- One evening, when you left a sketchpad on the table with a note reading, I’m not sure how to ask for help, Remy’s teasing demeanor softened. “Cher,” he said quietly, taking a seat beside you, “you don’t gotta be afraid to ask me for nothin’, yeah? I’ll figure it out.” His reassurance, paired with his playful charm, made you feel safe in ways you hadn’t expected.

- Remy’s natural adaptability shone as he started learning little tricks to help you communicate. He began carrying a deck of blank cards, writing quick responses or questions for you to use. “See? Now we both got somethin’ to write on,” he’d say with a wink, making the process feel less daunting. He even started teaching you French phrases, encouraging you to write them down when words failed.

- The moment things shifted between you two was subtle but impactful. One night, you handed him a note that simply read, I like you. His red eyes glimmered with mischief as he read it, but his smile was surprisingly tender. “Well, cher,” he said, leaning in closer, “guess it’s only fair I tell you somethin’, too.” Before you could respond, he pressed a soft kiss to your hand, his actions speaking louder than words ever could.

- Dating Remy was like navigating a whirlwind of charm and affection. He made it clear that he adored you, using every opportunity to show you how much he cared. From spontaneous gestures to quiet moments where he’d sit beside you, letting your notes and signs speak volumes, Remy proved that your unique way of communicating only made him fall for you harder.

Kurt Wagner aka. Nightcrawler

- Kurt noticed your struggle with verbal communication almost immediately, his empathetic nature drawing him toward you. “You do not speak much, ja?” he asked one day, his tone gentle and curious. When you nodded, he didn’t press further, instead offering you a warm smile. “I understand. We all have our ways.”

- He quickly adapted to your communication style, finding joy in the way you used gestures and notes. “It is like learning a new language,” he said with excitement, his tail flicking behind him. “And I am always eager to learn.” His enthusiasm made it easier for you to open up, his patience and kindness making every interaction feel effortless.

- One day, you hesitated, struggling to express something important. Kurt noticed your frustration and gently placed a hand on yours. “Take your time,” he said softly, his golden eyes filled with understanding. When you finally handed him a note that read, I don’t know how to ask for help sometimes, he nodded solemnly. “You never have to worry about that with me,” he assured you. “I am here for you, always.”

- Kurt began incorporating small acts of reassurance into your daily life, like leaving you notes of encouragement or learning more ASL to communicate with you better. His joy when you taught him new signs was infectious. “Did I do it right?” he’d ask, his tail curling nervously as he signed a simple phrase. Your smile was all the confirmation he needed.

- The turning point came one evening when you handed him a note that read, I think I’m falling for you. Kurt’s eyes widened, and a faint blush colored his blue cheeks. “Mein Schatz,” he whispered, his voice full of emotion. “You have no idea how happy that makes me.” He pulled you into a gentle hug, his tail wrapping around you in a protective embrace.

- Being with Kurt was like stepping into a world of unwavering kindness and affection. He made it his mission to understand you, to support you in every way possible. “You do not need words to tell me how you feel,” he said one day, his fingers tracing your hand. “I can see it in your eyes. And I will always speak for the both of us, if you need.”

Scott Summers aka. Cyclops

- Scott was initially unsure of how to approach you. He respected your quiet nature but didn’t want to overstep. When he saw you using notes and gestures to communicate, he made a conscious effort to pay attention, his leadership instincts kicking in. “Let me know if there’s anything I can do to make things easier,” he said one day, his tone sincere.

- He started picking up on your cues quickly, his analytical mind piecing together patterns in your gestures. “You don’t have to rush,” he’d say whenever you hesitated, giving you the space to communicate at your own pace. His patience surprised you, his usually stoic demeanor softening in your presence.

- One day, after a training session, you handed Scott a note that read, I feel like I’m slowing everyone down. He frowned, shaking his head firmly. “That’s not true,” he said, his voice steady. “You’re part of this team, and we support each other. Don’t ever feel like you’re a burden.” His words were firm but full of warmth, his unwavering belief in you shining through.

- Scott began making small adjustments to accommodate your communication style, like keeping a whiteboard in the common areas or encouraging others to be more patient. “It’s not about how you communicate,” he told you one evening. “It’s about making sure you’re heard.” His support made you feel seen in ways you hadn’t before.

- The moment your relationship shifted was quiet but profound. You handed Scott a note that read, I care about you more than I can say. He read it silently, then looked up at you with a rare, soft smile. “I care about you too,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. The kiss that followed was tender, his hands cradling your face like you were something precious.

- Being with Scott meant being with someone who valued every part of you. He made sure you always felt included, never letting your struggles define you. “You don’t need to say a word,” he told you one day, his hand resting over yours. “I’ll always understand.” His quiet devotion was a constant reminder that love didn’t need words to thrive.

Ororo Munroe aka. Storm

- Ororo was naturally drawn to your quiet strength. She noticed your use of notes and gestures early on, her sharp intuition picking up on how you often hesitated to ask for help. She approached you with her characteristic grace, offering you a kind smile. “You speak in your own way,” she said softly. “And I’d like to listen, if you’ll let me.” Her calm understanding put you at ease immediately.

- Ororo quickly adapted to your style of communication. She never rushed you, instead waiting patiently for you to finish writing or signing. “Take your time,” she’d say whenever she noticed you struggling. Her respect for your pace made you feel valued, and you found yourself opening up more around her.

- One day, you handed her a note that read, I don’t know how to ask for what I need sometimes. Ororo’s serene expression softened, and she placed a gentle hand over yours. “You’ve already asked by sharing this with me,” she said. “Let me help you carry that weight.” Her words felt like a soothing balm, her unwavering support reassuring you in ways you hadn’t expected.

- Over time, Ororo began incorporating subtle gestures to show her understanding. She’d leave small notes of encouragement in places she knew you’d find them, or create gentle winds to carry your written messages to her during training sessions. Her actions spoke louder than words, and they reminded you daily of her care for you.

- The turning point came during a quiet evening in the garden. You handed Ororo a note that read, I think I’m falling for you. Her silver hair shimmered in the moonlight as she read your message, a radiant smile spreading across her face. “The feeling is mutual,” she said, her voice filled with warmth. She leaned in to kiss your forehead, her touch as gentle as a summer breeze.

- Being with Ororo was like standing in the eye of a storm—peaceful yet powerful. She made you feel seen and cherished, her understanding and empathy creating a safe space for your love to flourish. “Your voice is beautiful,” she told you one day, tracing your hand with hers. “Even if it’s not always spoken aloud, it still reaches me.”

Kevin Sydney aka. Morph

- Morph immediately took an interest in you, his playful nature making him curious about your quiet demeanor. “So, what’s the deal?” he asked one day, his tone lighthearted. When you handed him a note explaining that you struggled with verbal communication, his face lit up with excitement. “A challenge, huh? I love a good puzzle!”

- He made it his mission to understand your gestures and notes, often turning your interactions into a game. “Okay, charades it is!” he’d say, mimicking your motions in exaggerated ways that made you laugh. His humor took the pressure off, and you found yourself enjoying his company more than you expected.

- One day, you scribbled a note that read, I’m not good at asking for help. Morph read it aloud, then gave you a dramatic bow. “Lucky for you, I’m great at helping!” he said with a grin. Despite his joking tone, his sincerity was evident in the way he stuck around, always ready to lend a hand.

- Morph’s shape-shifting abilities came in handy when it came to communicating. He’d transform into a giant hand to mimic your gestures or into a cartoonish version of himself to make you laugh when you were feeling down. His creativity knew no bounds, and his efforts to connect with you were as entertaining as they were heartfelt.

- The moment things shifted between you was as spontaneous as Morph himself. You handed him a note that read, I think I like you. He gasped dramatically, clutching his chest like he’d been shot. “I knew it!” he said, pulling you into a spin. When he set you down, his usual joking demeanor softened, and he leaned in to kiss you gently. “I like you too,” he said with uncharacteristic tenderness.

- Being with Morph was an adventure in every sense of the word. He made sure you never felt isolated, using his humor and shape-shifting to keep things light and fun. “You don’t have to say a word,” he told you one day, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “I can read you loud and clear, and I’m not going anywhere.”

Erik Lehnsherr aka. Magneto

- Erik was initially perplexed by your communication style, his analytical mind trying to make sense of your hesitations. When he realized you relied on notes and gestures, he was intrigued rather than dismissive. “An unconventional approach,” he mused. “But effective, nonetheless.” His curiosity made you nervous at first, but his lack of judgment slowly put you at ease.

- He began studying your gestures with the same intensity he applied to everything else, determined to understand you fully. “Communication is an art,” he said one day, watching as you wrote something down. “And you are a master of it, even without words.” His respect for your efforts made you feel seen in a way you hadn’t experienced before.

- One evening, you handed Erik a note that read, I feel like I’m a burden. He read it silently, his expression darkening. “You are not a burden,” he said firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument. “You are resourceful, intelligent, and resilient. Never diminish yourself in my presence again.” His words, though blunt, were filled with an undeniable care that warmed your heart.

- Erik’s efforts to support you were both subtle and grand. He’d manipulate small metal objects to write words in the air for you or create intricate metal sculptures to convey messages when you struggled. His actions showed a thoughtfulness that contrasted sharply with his usual stern demeanor.

- The turning point came during a quiet moment in his study. You slid him a note that read, I care about you more than I can say. Erik’s sharp eyes softened as he read your words. He set the note down carefully, then reached for your hand. “And I care for you,” he said, his voice low and steady. His kiss was deliberate, filled with the kind of intensity that only Erik could bring.

- Being with Erik was like standing beside a force of nature—powerful, unyielding, and deeply protective. He made sure you always felt valued, his actions speaking louder than any words ever could. “You don’t need to speak,” he told you one evening, his hand resting gently on yours. “Your presence is enough.”

Hank McCoy aka. Beast

- Hank was fascinated by your unique way of communicating, his scientific mind eager to understand the nuances of your gestures and notes. “A fascinating approach,” he said the first time he saw you write something down. “May I inquire further?” His genuine interest made you feel less self-conscious, and you found yourself opening up to him quickly.

- He started keeping a notebook nearby, jotting down your cues and gestures like he was studying a new language. “It’s remarkable how much you can convey without words,” he said one day, his admiration evident. His encouragement made you feel proud of your communication style, rather than ashamed of it.

- One afternoon, you left a note in his lab that read, I feel like I’m too much work for people. When Hank found it, his brow furrowed, and he immediately sought you out. “You are never too much work,” he said, his voice filled with conviction. “If anything, you’ve taught me to see the world in a new way, and I’m grateful for that.”

- Hank’s support manifested in practical ways. He developed small devices to make it easier for you to communicate, like a digital notepad that converted your writing into speech. “A little invention of mine,” he said with a sheepish smile. “I hope it’s helpful.” His thoughtfulness left you speechless, your gratitude clear in the way you hugged him tightly.

- The moment your relationship shifted was as gentle as Hank himself. You handed him a note that read, I think I’m falling for you. Hank read it carefully, his blue fur bristling slightly as he looked up at you with wide eyes. “The feeling is mutual,” he said, his voice soft. His kiss was tentative but warm, filled with the quiet intensity that defined him.

- Being with Hank was like being wrapped in a cocoon of warmth and understanding. He made sure you always felt supported, his kindness and intellect creating a safe space for your love to grow. “Your voice is unique,” he told you one day, his hand resting over yours. “And I consider it an honor to understand it.”

Jean Grey aka. Marvel Girl / Phoenix

- Jean noticed your quiet demeanor and alternative way of communicating long before you realized. She often caught glimpses of your emotions through her telepathy, though she never intruded. When you passed her notes or gestured instead of speaking, she responded with patience and understanding, letting you take the lead. “Take your time,” she’d say softly, her gentle smile a constant reassurance.

- Jean quickly adapted to your style, finding ways to bridge the gaps in communication. She subtly enhanced your gestures with her telepathy, sensing what you meant before you could even fully convey it. “It’s like we have our own secret language,” she teased one day, her green eyes sparkling. Her ability to meet you halfway made you feel less alone.

- One day, during a quiet moment in the mansion’s library, you hesitated before passing her a note. It read, Sometimes, I feel like I don’t belong here. Jean’s expression softened as she read it, and she reached out to take your hand. “You belong wherever you choose to be,” she said, her voice filled with conviction. “And right now, I’m glad you’re here with me.”

- Jean began leaving small notes for you as well, little affirmations that brightened your day. “You’re stronger than you think,” one read, tucked under your door. “You don’t have to say a word for me to know how amazing you are,” said another, left with your breakfast. These gestures reminded you that she was always thinking of you, even in the smallest ways.

- The shift in your relationship came during a walk through the garden. You handed her a note that read, I care about you, more than I probably should. Jean’s face lit up with a radiant smile, and she reached up to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear. “Good,” she said softly. “Because I feel the same way.” Her kiss was gentle and warm, like sunlight breaking through the clouds.

- Being with Jean felt like basking in a calm, nurturing presence. She understood you deeply, both through her powers and her heart. “You don’t need words to express yourself,” she told you one day, her hand resting lightly on your cheek. “You’ve already said everything I need to hear.”

Anna Marie aka. Rogue

- Rogue was drawn to your quiet, introspective nature. She was no stranger to feeling out of place, and when she noticed your reliance on notes and gestures, she connected with you immediately. “Ah reckon we’re both a little unconventional,” she said one day, her Southern drawl soft. “But that’s what makes us unique.”

- She made it her mission to understand your style of communication, often using humor to lighten the mood. “What’s this one mean?” she’d joke, mimicking your gestures dramatically. Her teasing was never mean-spirited, and her playful attitude made it easier for you to relax around her.

- One afternoon, you left her a note that read, I’m afraid people will get tired of me. Rogue’s gloved hand tightened around the paper, her expression shifting to one of fierce determination. “Sugar, if anyone ever makes ya feel that way, they’re not worth your time,” she said firmly. “Ah’ll never get tired of ya, that’s for sure.”

- Rogue’s physical limitations due to her powers didn’t stop her from showing her care. She’d use small gestures like slipping notes into your jacket pocket or brushing her covered hand against yours to reassure you. Her creativity in expressing her feelings mirrored your own, making you feel understood on a deeper level.

- The turning point came during a late-night conversation in the mansion’s common room. You passed her a note that read, I think I’m falling for you. Rogue’s green eyes widened, and she bit her lip nervously. “Ah’ve been feelin’ the same way,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. She leaned in, her gloved hand cupping your cheek as she kissed you carefully, mindful of her powers.

- Being with Rogue was like finding a kindred spirit. She understood the challenges of feeling different and made sure you never felt isolated. “You don’t need to say a thing, darlin’,” she told you one day, her smile soft and warm. “Ah know exactly how ya feel.”

Nathan Summers aka. Cable

- Cable’s gruff exterior initially made you hesitant to approach him, but he surprised you with his patience and attentiveness. He noticed your preference for notes and gestures right away, his keen tactical mind quickly adapting to your style. “Communication’s about understanding,” he said once. “Doesn’t matter how you do it, as long as it works.”

- Despite his hardened demeanor, Cable showed surprising softness when it came to you. He’d take your notes seriously, his cybernetic hand carefully holding the paper as he read. “Got it,” he’d say with a small nod, making you feel heard and respected.

- One day, you scribbled a note that read, I don’t know how to ask for help. Cable’s steel-blue eyes softened as he read it, and he placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “You don’t have to ask,” he said simply. “I’ll always have your back.” His words, though straightforward, carried a depth of sincerity that stayed with you.

- Cable’s actions spoke louder than words. He’d leave you supplies he thought you might need or subtly adjust his schedule to be around when he thought you might struggle. His protective nature made you feel safe, even without verbal reassurances.

- The moment your relationship shifted was quiet but profound. You handed him a note that read, I think I’m falling for you. Cable read it, his expression unreadable at first. Then, a rare smile crossed his face. “Guess I’ve been waiting for you to say that,” he said, pulling you into his arms. His kiss was firm yet gentle, a reflection of the man himself.

- Being with Cable was like having a steadfast anchor in a chaotic world. He didn’t need flowery words to show his care; his actions spoke volumes. “You’ve got your way of communicating,” he told you one day, his voice steady. “And I’ve got mine. Together, we make it work.”

Wade Wilson aka. Deadpool

- Wade was immediately fascinated by your unique communication style. “You’re like a mysterious, silent protagonist,” he quipped one day, leaning dramatically against a doorframe. “Do I get to be the comic relief in your story?” His lighthearted approach put you at ease, though his constant chatter sometimes overwhelmed you.

- He took your notes and gestures as a challenge, often exaggerating his responses to make you laugh. “Oh, I see what you mean!” he’d say, even when he clearly didn’t. His antics were equal parts endearing and infuriating, but his genuine effort to connect with you never wavered.

- One day, you passed Wade a note that read, Sometimes I feel like I’m too much. He stared at it for a moment, unusually quiet. Then he grinned and said, “Too much? Sweetheart, have you met me? You’re like the perfect yin to my yang!” His humor was disarming, but the sincerity in his eyes reassured you.

- Wade found creative ways to communicate with you, often using props, drawings, or even sock puppets to convey his thoughts. “See? Communication is an art form,” he said, holding up a poorly drawn cartoon of the two of you. His efforts were chaotic but heartfelt, showing you how much he cared.

- The shift in your relationship came during a quiet moment in his usually loud life. You handed him a note that read, I think I love you. Wade froze, uncharacteristically speechless. Then, with a dramatic flourish, he scooped you into his arms. “I knew it!” he shouted, spinning you around. His kiss was surprisingly tender, a rare glimpse of the man beneath the mask.

- Being with Wade was unpredictable but filled with joy. He made you feel understood in his own chaotic way, proving that love didn’t need to follow traditional rules. “You don’t need words,” he told you one day, his voice unusually soft. “I get you. And trust me, that’s saying something.”

[sunni-stuff]

Adira and Mama have always celebrated valentines together. And now we have Simon, who in addition to wanting to create a connection with Adira, he also wants to recreate that "love" with Mom. So, this Valentine's Day, Simon and Adira team up to give Mom a wonderful gift!

Valentine’s Day.  

The holiday where people got all sappy, handed out cards, and smothered their significant others with roses and kisses. The streets would be painted in shades of red and pink, filled with the bustling energy of couples trying to outdo each other with grand romantic gestures. 

But for you, Valentine’s Day had always been about something else. Since Adira was born, it became a tradition to celebrate the love of your life in your own way. You didn’t need a partner to make the day meaningful; you had her. Every year, you’d gift her a small box of her favorite chocolates—indulgent, sweet pieces she’d greedily munch on, leaving her cheeks smeared with chocolate and her gummy grin brighter than the sun.  

You couldn’t help but remember the memory of how Adira’s love affair with that brand of chocolate started. Godiva Gold Collection—an unnecessarily expensive, fancy brand that had somehow become her favorite. You still had the box that started it all, tucked away in the closet of keepsakes, its shiny gold lid a time capsule of an unexpected moment from your early days at the daycare.

It was your first Valentine’s Day as an assistant, back before you had your own class. You’d been trying to keep a low profile, just another cog in the machine, but one of the dads had made that impossible. For weeks, he’d been flirting with you, persistent in a way that made you roll your eyes more than blush. Day in and day out, he’d linger a little too long during drop-offs or pick-ups, throwing out compliments like confetti. It was harmless enough, but you never entertained it beyond polite smiles.  

That Valentine’s Day, though, he decided to up the ante. Strolling in with his daughter on one arm and an elaborate, glittering box of chocolates in the other, he sauntered over to you with the confidence of a man who thought he’d already won.  

“I thought you might like these,” he said, handing you the Godiva box with a grin that was probably meant to be charming but mostly came off smug. “Figured you deserved a little something for always being so amazing.”  

You took the box graciously, murmuring a polite thank-you. And that’s when the moment turned unexpectedly sweet.  

Before you could even process the interaction, a tiny figure toddled into the room—Adira, barely one year old, her chubby legs carrying her as fast as they could toward you. Her little hand stretched up, fingers opening and closing in that unmistakable signal: I want.  

You smiled at her, heart melting as it always did. “Of course, little fox,” you murmured, placing the box carefully in her hands. She hugged it to her chest with the kind of pure joy that only a child could muster, her little fingers already fumbling with the lid.

The dad’s confident grin faltered as he watched the scene unfold. His brow furrowed in confusion. “Wait… You give chocolate to all the kids here? Isn’t that, uh, bad for them?” He gestured awkwardly toward Adira, who had now plopped herself onto the floor, fully engrossed in her mission to open the box.

You laughed softly, shaking your head as you stood back up. “No, I don’t give chocolate to all the kids,” you said, your tone gentle but firm. “Adira’s mine.”

The words hung in the air for a moment, and you watched as the realization dawned on him. His eyes widened, darting between you and Adira as if trying to piece together a puzzle he hadn’t even realized was in front of him.

“She’s… yours?” he asked, incredulous.

You nodded, glancing down at Adira, who had successfully pried the box open and was now holding a truffle in her tiny hands like it was a treasure. “Yep. My daughter,” you said, pride evident in your voice. “She’s the reason I started working here, actually. Thought it’d be a good way to balance work and being there for her.”

The man’s face turned an odd shade of red, and you couldn’t help but feel a small sense of satisfaction. He had assumed, just like so many others, that you were childless and ready to play along with his flirtations. But you weren’t. And that, in some small way, felt like a victory.

“Oh. Wow. I didn’t realize,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “I, uh, thought you were single. And… you know, childless.”

“Nope,” you said with a small laugh. “Very much a mom.”

He began backing toward the door with an apologetic smile. “Right, well… I should get going. My daughter’s probably waiting for me. Happy Valentine’s Day!” And just like that, he was gone.

Wasn't he holding his daughter?

His swift retreat had you chuckling even as you turned your attention back to Adira, who was now blissfully munching on her stolen treasure. She looked up at you, her grin wide and sticky, chocolate clinging to her growing pearly whites.

“Yum!” she declared, holding up another piece as if offering it to you.

Now, every Valentine’s Day, when you handed her a new box, she’d squeal with glee, just like she did when she was a baby. And every time, it reminded you why you didn’t need flowers, cards, or romantic gestures to make the day special.

Adira was your Valentine. She always had been, and she always would be.

Valentine’s Day had arrived once again, painting the streets with an abundance of roses, teddy bears, and couples hand in hand. The air was charged with the energy of love—or at least, that’s how the advertisements made it seem.

For you, it was a different story. As a single parent, Valentine's Day didn’t come with the same excitement. Instead, it was a quiet reminder of the love you shared with Adira—the kind of love that didn't need gifts or fancy dinners. You had your own little celebration planned with her at home, but first, there was work.

The daycare was closing early that day, giving most of the staff the chance to spend time with their partners. But for the rest of you—those without a special someone—it was business as usual. The meeting, something about the upcoming budgets for the year, was mandatory.

As you wrapped up your workday, you felt a twinge of guilt. Adira wouldn’t have the patience to wait while you sat through the meeting. She never did, and today wasn’t going to be any different. So, in a bit of a spur-of-the-moment decision, you called Simon. He was more than happy to help, even though the idea of being with Adira all afternoon seemed like a challenge. Still, he was eager to do what he could, giving you time to get through the meeting without worrying.

Unbeknownst to you, your apartment was currently in a state of complete disarray.

It all started when Simon, while rummaging through the pantry for snacks, stumbled upon a familiar gold box tucked in the corner. He didn’t know why the sight of the Godiva box stirred something in him, but it did. For a split second, his mind conjured up the idea that you had someone special—someone who’d given you the overpriced chocolate. His stomach twisted at the thought.

Why did that bother him? It wasn’t like he had any claim over you. You were just co-parenting. But still, the idea of some other guy swooping in and winning you over with fancy chocolates rubbed him the wrong way.

The thought simmered in the back of his mind until he turned to Adira, who was running around, triumphantly waving around her Barbie head like a trophy . An idea formed, one that made the edges of his frown soften into something more determined.

“How about we make your mom something special?” he proposed, crouching down to her level.

Adira’s eyes lit up, her face brightening with an enthusiastic grin. “Yeah! Special for Mommy!” She bounced to her feet, already brimming with elation.

“Alright, lass,” he said, ruffling her hair. “We’ll need a plan. Let’s get to work.”

By the time thirty minutes had passed, your apartment was barely recognizable. Flour dusted nearly every surface, glitter and scraps of colorful paper were strewn across the living room, and the faint smell of something slightly burnt wafted from the kitchen. Simon was in over his head.

He had underestimated two things: the sheer mess a three-year-old could create when left unchecked and the complexity of trying to bake cookies with said three-year-old as his assistant.

His phone laid on the counter, a lifeline to Gaz, who had graciously agreed to walk him through baking cookies. "Alright, I’ve got the dough… I think. What’s next?” he asked, glancing at the slightly lumpy mixture in the bowl.

On the other end of the line, Gaz chuckled. “Mate, it shouldn’t look like that. Did you actually measure the ingredients, or did you just eyeball it?”

Simon huffed, frustration bubbling as he wiped a streak of flour off his cheek. “I followed the recipe! Mostly. Adira added her own… interpretations.”

As if on cue, Adira, perched on a stool beside him, giggled mischievously, her tiny hands gripping the now-empty container of sprinkles. She enthusiastically dumped half of it into the bowl, sending a white puff into the air. She giggled uncontrollably as flour settled into her hair, making her look like a tiny ghost.

“Looks funny!” she declared, wiping her flour-dusted hands on his sleeve.

Simon groaned, but he couldn’t suppress the chuckle that followed. “Yeah, you look like you’ve been rolling around in snow.” Glancing at the concoction they were making, pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering to himself, “This is a disaster.”

“Oi, it’s not a disaster,” Gaz chimed in, his voice crackling slightly through the speaker. “You’ve just got… a creative helper. Roll with it. Kids love messy projects.”

As they moved on to rolling out the dough, Adira decided to take charge of the cookie cutters. She pressed them into the dough with all the strength her tiny hands could muster, creating wobbly fox shapes that were more abstract than symmetrical. “For Mommy!” she declared with each press, her little voice full of pride.

Simon’s heart softened at her excitement. Despite the chaos, she was having the time of her life, and he couldn’t deny that it was… fun, in a strange, messy sort of way.

“Alright, Gaz,” Simon said, propping the phone closer to his ear as he picked up a cookie sheet. “What temperature do I need to set the oven at?”

“Preheat it to 350. And keep an eye on those cookies—you don’t want them to burn.”

“Got it,” Simon replied, sliding the tray into the oven.

While the cookies were “baking” (a generous term for the mess he’d shoved into the oven), Simon pulled out some paper, markers, and glitter he’d found in your supply cabinet. Adira jumped in eagerly, grabbing a red marker to scribble a heart on a piece of paper.

“Mommy likes red,” she informed him with absolute certainty, her tongue poking out in concentration as she drew wobbly shapes.

“Aye, red it is,” Simon agreed, his own hands now dusted with glitter as he helped her glue a few sparkly hearts onto the card. “We’ll make it the prettiest card she’s ever seen.”

By the time the cookies were done, the kitchen was a disaster zone, glitter was everywhere, and Simon had flour smeared across his cheek. Adira was thrilled, though, holding up her homemade card with pride.

Simon pulled the cookies out of the oven, sighing in relief when they actually looked halfway decent. Adira gasped in delight, clapping her flour-dusted hands together.

“They’re perfect,” she declared, though one cookie was clearly missing a chunk where she’d snuck a bite of the dough earlier.

Simon chuckled, ruffling her hair. “You’re right, they’re perfect.”

By the time you got home, the chaos was still evident—scraps of paper littered the floor, flour smudged on the counters, and a sticky trail of frosting led to the living room. But in the middle of it all were Simon and Adira, sitting at the table with the slightly wonky cookies and a handmade card, waiting for you with proud grins on their faces.

"Happy Valentine’s Day, Mommy!” Adira exclaimed, jumping up to present you with her card.

Your heart melted at the sight, the mess fading into the background as you took in the scene before you. This wasn’t what you’d expected, but it was perfect.

Your voice caught in your throat as you held up the card Adira had made. The inside was adorned with little foxes, and the words scribbled across the page were a mix of Simon’s careful handwriting and Adira’s wobbly, childlike scrawl. The sentence read: “Call me Swiper because I’ve stolen your heart.”

You couldn’t help but smile, your chest tightening at the sight of it. The card was so simple, yet so heartfelt. It was a moment of pure, unfiltered love from the two people who had, in their own way, quietly wormed their way into your heart.

"You guys did all this…?" Your voice a little shaky, as you looked from the card to Simon and Adira, who were both sitting proudly at the table. Simon had flour on his cheek, and Adira’s face was a picture of joy, her hands covered in frosting and sprinkles. It was clear they’d both put their all into this little surprise.

Simon rubbed the back of his neck, a sheepish grin on his face as he shrugged. “Well, Adira here had the idea. I just... tried not to burn the cookies.”

Adira giggled, holding up one of the cookies as if it were a trophy. It was slightly misshapen, with sprinkles all over it, but it didn’t matter. It was perfect in its imperfection. “Mommy, for you!” she exclaimed, her voice full of pride.

Your eyes softened, your heart swelling with love and something else you couldn’t quite place—appreciation, gratitude, maybe even a little awe. The moment was small, yet so significant.

“Thank you, Adira,” you whispered softly, your heart swelling as you knelt down to scoop her up into a hug. She squirmed in your arms, giggling as she wrapped her tiny arms around your neck, her little fingers gripping your hair with an uncoordinated but tender affection.

Simon stood back, watching the two of you with a quiet smile. He didn’t say anything, but the look on his face was enough. He was content, knowing he’d been part of this moment.

“This is the best Valentine’s Day gift ever,” you murmured, pressing a kiss to her temple as she squished her cheek against yours, still grinning ear to ear.

Simon hesitated for a moment, a twinge of uncertainty crossing his face as he stood there watching the tender scene. He knew he wasn’t quite there yet, not in the way you and Adira had been all this time. He was a part of this moment, but he still wasn’t sure exactly where he fit in. His eyes flickered between you, your outstretched arms, and the small bundle of joy that was his daughter, so full of love and happiness—it made his chest tighten in a way he couldn’t ignore.

But then, your words cut through the haze of his hesitation. "Why are you just standing there?"

You were smiling, the playful hint of a challenge in your eyes, but there was something more in your voice too—an invitation. You didn’t have to say anything else; it was in the way you held out your arms, in the way you pulled him in with your gaze.

Simon took a slow, steadying breath, his heart beating a little faster. He moved forward, tentative at first, before lowering himself to kneel beside you both. Adira giggled as he wrapped his arms around the two of you, her laughter echoing in the warm air of the apartment. He wasn’t just trying to fit into a place anymore. He carved one out for himself—right there, with you and Adira. And that, more than anything, felt like home.

It wasn’t the romantic, picture-perfect Valentine’s Day you’d imagined in the past, but it was better. It was real. It was messy, sweet, and full of love. The kind of love that came in small, beautiful moments like these.

And for the first time in a long while, you realized that maybe this was exactly how it was supposed to be.

A/N: I just wanna say rq, I appreciate the love AND to the anon who sent this, your brain needs to be kissed. I said I wasn't gonna do long fics as often but this was too juicy to pass up. Thank you!

ALSO, pls yall don't have to send me asks to be on the taglist! If you comment I'll add u!

TAGLIST: @pipedream411 @ficcharsimp009 @frogofrg @loonagabs @lunamoonbby @vixenshiftsvrs @devoetee @shorty-tolentino @aethelwyneleigh27 @ayesha-eroticax3 @julesjuminos @tacticalgirlboss @teenagellamaangel @gifted-aurora @awildewit @emilia527 @danielle143 @maniacalbooper @t3a-bag @sockertop @arrozyfrijoles23 @azaleapeachberry @terry2227 @rip-cod-brainrot @montenegroisr @sweetheartturtle2007 @hepprine @kodokunarisu-blog

[proseandpretrichor]

Entwined | Jinx x Reader

Word Count: 598

Warnings: none -> just a short little thought blurb I had to write so my mind would shut up so I can sleep

You were her opposite in every way. It was hardly fathomable– the crazed criminal somehow wooing such a quiet and kind person such as yourself. You did share her notorious ambitions, just existing as a simple botanist living in one of the few docile suburbs of the undercity. You were the type of person to leave bowls of milk and water for the stray animals roaming the streets, unlike your cloud filled mind of your partner often found too dazed by the whirlwinds of her own mind to focus on anything else. While she built mechanisms of chaos, you created simple melodies of plants into teas, tonics, and remedies. Often selling these little miracles for such a small cost it seemed as though you were giving them away for free, something that was nearly unheard of in a place like the undercity. And these products not only were affordable, they worked! They worked exceptionally well, whereas the working class of the Undercity were doomed to rely on shimmer to continue with the grueling pace of the labor demands to provide, to eat, and sleep in a sheltered abode, you offered a chance of true health, of hope, of rest, of peace. Naturally, those who knew you, cherished you, none more so than Jinx. While at first the coupling seemed confusing and odd it soon clicked and couldn’t seem to make more sense. Jinx protected you and cherished you away from the extortionists of the Undercity, seeking to take your gifts and extort them for profit. In exchange for no cost, you gave Jinx a real understanding of the concept of true love, healthy love, happy love – no strings or obligations attached. You accepted her as she was waiting patiently to understand her past, unraveling the strings that wove together the misunderstood woman who held your heart in her jittery hands. And when the pieces of the puzzle finally clicked and you stood back and made sense of the whole picture that made Jinx well Jinx, you didn’t cower away in annoyance or fear, but embraced all the parts of her, even the messy jagged broken fragments. Even though it seemed as though your intertwined existences seemed to cancel the other out, you didn’t try to change her or soften her. You allowed her the freedom to exist as she was meant to, and figure out her place in the world, even when at most times she seemed to want nothing more to destroy it and certainly did her best to. And she knew… she knew for every explosion made by her hands, you were somewhere else mending the cracks and sewing the holes into faded little scares. So it really didn’t matter, then did it? — is the conclusion most people end on. It didn’t matter that you two were so biologically different, not when somehow it made you fit together all the while better. Besides, it's not like anyone could successfully tear you two apart, not if Jinx had anything to say about it– and she certainly did, as long as she was breathing you would be by her side. It didn’t matter what the pair of you concluded the tasks of the day, you would find your way back to each other. Wrapped into an embrace, one that slowly recharged the energy the day demanded of the two of you, and in that little pocket of the Undercity, a place of the forsaken, there was perfection given to the most damned of all women. So perhaps that makes her all the more deserving of it, you decide. 

[cloudywriting05]

one of your girls. — coriolanus snow.

we dont gotta be in love, no. i don’t gotta be the one, no. i just wanna be one of your girls tonight.

part two published, read here.

cw: dom!coryo, p in v, Bondage, vulgar language, pain during sex, daddy kink, slight sadism(?), 18+, slight non-con, etc

words: 3048 [good, GOD], MAY be grammar errors.

tags: @euphemiaamillais my lovely lady.

“Hey, Snow.” 

The blonde boy snapped his head at you, a stern look plastered to his face. You watched his eyes travel up and down your figure, his expression softened as a small smile crept on his face. He turned his body to face you and sighed.

You and Coriolanus’s relationship was unique, to say the least. You’ve known each other your entire life but dedicated your every day to one-upping each other. Your decade-long academic rivalry with him was something you found deeply annoying, and you knew if he wasn’t as attractive as he was, you would’ve killed him by now. Coriolanus found the rivalry thrilling. Watching you stress and work out to get the best grade was entertaining for him. On the days he was lucky, you would be in the library at the same time as him, searching for textbooks to grab before the other could. The number of times he caught himself peering down at your small figure, bent over, frantically digging through piles of chemistry books was criminal. 

The new school year had just begun, and you were instantly bombarded with strange rumours. Rumours about Coriolanus, more specifically, his dick. He’d allegedly slept with half of the grade’s female population, including your own friends. You rebuffed them initially, that was until you overheard the said ‘girls’ discussing it, confirming it all. You were annoyed, absolutely livid at the thought of Coriolanus sleeping with them. Why did he leave you out? Was this something else he was showing you that you could never get? Whatever he was doing was working. Fucking your entire friend group but purposely dodging you was a smart move on his behalf. But you were never a loser, never second place.

So here it brought you. Standing in front of your arch nemesis with your arms crossed. 

“Could I help you, gorgeous?” he purred, raising an eyebrow. 

“You’re a slut, Snow. Fucking all my friends is pretty corny, don’t you think?” you remarked, running a finger down the locker beside him. 

He looked at you, guilt written across his face. “I’m not a slut, little girl. And who told you that?” 

“Everyone. Everyone is talking about you and your dick, Coriolanus.”

“I got busy over the holidays. Who knew Academy girls could be so desperate for my dick?” he sneered, smiling to himself. 

“So why did you do it?” 

“Do what?” he asked, puzzled.

“Fuck everyone but me? Were you trying to tick me off? If so, it worked, Snow.”

He let out a laugh, completely bewildered. “Are you high? What are you trying to get at?”

“Did I stutter? You fucked every girl in my friend group but me, even though I should’ve been the first. Now, because you decided to fucking skip me, I have to hear about how freaky you are, or how big your dick is all day!” you blurted, your frustration getting by the absolute best of you as his nonchalant demeanor sent you over the edge. 

“So, let me get this straight; you’re angry at me because I didn’t fuck you?” he questioned, eyes wide, trying to comprehend what was coming out of your mouth.

You stuttered for a second. “Yes, yes I am.”

“We played sandbox together and here you are now, in this empty hallway, begging me to fuck you,” he said as he fixed his uniform.

“Oh, so you don’t wanna fuck me?” you purred, your arms crossed, looking up at him. 

“Just to piss you off, no I don’t. Doesn’t matter how hot I think you are, or how long I’ve wanted to for this to happen. I like seeing you mad.” he smiled, knowing he had ticked you off. “I’ll see you in bio, little girl.”

He spoke as he walked away. Your eyes twitched in anger; Snow could not win. Not today. 

“Fine, I’ll just ask Plinth!” your words stopped him right in his tracks.

He turned and stalked towards you, stopping only a few inches in front of you. He glared down into your eyes. “If you fuck Sejanus, I’ll kill you both and make it look like an accident.” 

You scoffed. “Would you, actually? I don’t know. All I know is that I want you at my house by eleven thirty. If you’re as good as one of the girls was vouching you were, then prove it. Or I’ll get one of your friends to, just to make it even.”

“You win, I’ll see you there, doll.”

It was eleven-twenty on the dot and there was still no sign of Coriolanus. You’d pondered about the interaction from today for hours, worried you came off too demanding. You thought to yourself for a while that he was going you stand you up and purposely not come, that would’ve sent you over the edge. You sat on your bed, every negative thought running through your head. Your thoughts were abruptly interrupted by the sound of frantic knocking. 

You rushed downstairs and stood in front of the door. “Who is it?”

“Is that a joke?” Coriolanus spoke from the other side of the door. “Let me in, sweetheart. I’m freezing.” 

You flung the door open, Coriolanus stood there, a smile plastered to his face. He sported a worn-out shirt that was fitted, hugging his chest. He paired it with pajama pants with a red pattern and slides that looked like they should’ve never left his house. He walked right past you into your home. “You look like you’re about to go to sleep, couldn’t dress sexier?” 

“I mean it’s gonna come right off, isn’t it?”

“Whatever, my room is upstairs and the first to your right.” 

“Perfect.” 

You watched the boy jog up the stairs and disappear behind the wall, following him shortly after. 

You entered the room to him sitting on the bed, using his arms to sit up behind him. You closed the door behind you without breaking eye contact. You could physically feel the tension in the room, his entire demeanor shifting from minutes ago. You felt almost chilled. 

He lifted himself from the edge of your bed and walked towards you, stopping himself only when his face was inches from yours. “Did one of the girls ever tell you what I did to them?”

You shook your head. “No, I don’t think.”

“I’ll have to show you, won't I?” he purred, his hand traveling up from your side to your chin.

“Yeah, I guess.” 

His hand landed on your cheek, taking you by surprise. You gasped as his hand returned to your chin, forcing you to look into his eyes. “Stupid girl. You wanted me to treat you like your friends, right? They didn’t talk, so why should you?”

You should’ve walked away; you should’ve told him to get out. The boy who defined your entire academy life just slapped you in the face and degraded you, yet your entire body yearned for his touch. You stared into his eyes, they were glistening, wild with power and lust. His blonde hair dimly lit by the streetlight peering through your window into your dark, cold room. You needed to get even; you needed him to fuck you to get even. You needed him inside of you and in that moment, you didn’t care if it was the last thing you did that night. 

“Tell me what you want me to do to you, now,” he demanded, his grip on your chin tightening as he forced you to look up at him, helpless.

You shook under his touch, completely powerless. “I- I want you to fuck me, Coryo.”

He lowered his head, resting his lips against your ear, sending a cold shiver down your spine and straight to your heat. “Say it louder, so everyone in the Capitol knows how much of a dumb, little slut you are for me. Say it.”

“I want you to fuck me because I’m a slut... for you.” you proclaimed, your voice projected as he breathed against your cheek, his grip on your chin still tight.

“Pathetic, but good enough,” he replied, he released your chin and moved himself away from you slightly. “Get on the bed and strip for me, now.”

You nodded dumbly, crawling onto the bed. You lifted your shirt over your head and tossed it on the ground beside you, removing your pants and underwear right after. You sat there idly, completely bare, whilst a clothed Coriolanus stood in front of you, fucking you with his gaze. His eyes traveled up and down your frame, admiring you.

He raised a hand and began to caress your cheek; you instinctively nuzzled your face into his palm causing him to softly laugh. “The smartest and prettiest girl in the academy, sitting naked waiting for me to fuck her like a good girl.”

He looked down on you, you were naked and nuzzling your face into his palm, inaudibly begging him to fuck you. You were desperate and it turned him on so much. The most stubborn girl he fawned over for years now naked and begging him to fuck her. He could feel his dick trying to break free from his pants just from the sight of you.

He walked away and disappeared into your open closet, leaving you clueless. He walked out with a ribbon in his hand.

“That’s my grandma's, Coryo. That’s the ribbon she gifted me. What do you need it for?” you questioned, puzzled.

“Put your back against your bed frame and stop asking me stupid questions. Sluts with dirty mouths like you, my dear, don’t get to talk.” 

You followed his command and shuffled up until your bare back was against the headboard, waiting patiently for his next command. You were the smartest girl at your academy yet there you were, brainlessly waiting for Snow to tell you what to do. 

He climbed onto the bed and motioned for your hand. “Give me your hands, doll.” 

You timidly raised your hand towards him. He grabbed your wrist and began to firmly tie the piece of ribbon around them, causing you to wince slightly. The thin material pressed against your skin as you looked at him, hopeless. There he had you. Your wrists tied, naked. Your knees spread exposing you. 

He took his time once again, admiring your small, fragile frame. “You look so gorgeous, let daddy see what’s between your legs better, okay?”

You nodded and spread your knees apart more, fully exposing your heat to the boy. He hovered over you, staring down at your pussy, glistening with juices. He used his hands to turn you over on your knees, your hands still restrained, using your elbows for support. 

“How many times did you speak to that bitch this week?” he inquired from behind you.

“Who? Sejanus? … Maybe three or four times, I’m not too sure–”

“Too many times. Way too many fucking times.”

You felt a hard hand land against your cheek, your back curled in pain as you threw your head between your hands. It was followed by another, causing you to cry out in pain. He slapped your ass again, and then once more. Painful groans escaped your lips as you squeezed your eyes shut, trying to ignore the pain.

“Four slaps for four conversations. Turn over and spread your legs a bit more for me, okay?” 

You dumbly followed, still wincing in pain. You turned yourself onto your back and spread your legs as far as you could, quivering and vulnerable. Coriolanus watched, entranced by your naked body. You looked at the boy, gawking at you. His hand grabbed your tied wrists and lifted them above your head. The boy then moved his head between your knees, planting a kiss on your knee, then on your inner thigh. He peered up at you, your pussy throbbing and yearning for his touch.

“Please, I can’t take it. Touch me,” you begged, your voice timid, scared of the boy between your thighs.

“Say please.”

“Please, please?”

“Good girl.” he purred, lowering his head further, you felt his nose graze your pubic bone.

His lips planted a kiss, then moved down to your folds. A moan instantly escaped your lips, your body churning at the feeling of his lips on your moist folds. Your back arched. You felt his lips move against your core, lapping at your folds. He used his tongue to press against your clit, making you cry out and heave. His arm traveled up to your breast, massaging it as his tongue lapped at your pussy. His nose pressing against you. You squirmed as he used his mouth to suck your clit, sending your eyes to the back of your head. The sensations overstimulate you, leaving you hopeless. You didn’t dare bring your arms down, knowing he wouldn’t react well.

He lifted his head from your heat for a second and peered up at you. “You taste so good, let me show you.”

He raised himself and lowered his lips onto yours. Forcing your mouth open with his, his tongue invading your mouth, forcing you to taste yourself. You moaned in his mouth, completely dumbfounded by the boy.

“Now, open your mouth,” he said, gripping onto your chin. 

You dumbly followed, letting him spit into your mouth. You swallowed without hesitation. 

“Good, you did one thing right,” he remarked, unbuttoning his pants, holding eye contact with you from above. 

He swiftly removed his pants, followed by his shirt. His body was leaner than you’d expected, his muscular frame surprising you. He hauled himself off the bed and lowered his brief, freeing his throbbing penis. You let out a small gasp. He motioned for you to come towards him, you crawled, wrists still tied, and sat on the edge of the bed in front of him. His penis right across from your face. He stared down at you.

“Look what you did to me, fix it up. Now,” he demanded.

You nodded your head as you leaned to lick his penis. You use your lips to latch onto his tip, sucking on it as you let your tongue massage it. He groaned from above you, eyes closed. Your head moving slowly to and from, his dick still in your mouth. Your tongue glided back and forth as you pleasured the boy. He threw his head back as you did everything you could to his dick with your mouth alone, you spat on it frantically as you took his cock deeper into your throat. Gagging on his dick and pushing yourself past your limit.

“Go fucking deeper, you dumb fucking slut. Treat it like you would treat some other guys. Whore.” he demanded, his hand latching onto a chunk of your hair. 

He pushed himself further down your throat, tears rolling down your eyes in return. He pumped your throat like it was your pussy, you gagged on his cock uncontrollably. Your wrists were tied in front of you, helpless as he fucked your throat. He pulled your head back with the chunk of hair. You gasped for a breath of air frantically, tears rolling down your eyes. His open palm landed against your cheek again, causing you to gasp in pain.

“When I tell you to go deeper, I mean it, slut. Aren’t you meant to be smart?” he scoffed, looking down at your frail frame. “You spent years trying to get under my fucking skin, now I’m on yours, and you don’t know how to act? Say thank you.”

“Thank you, Daddy, thank you.” you whimpered, sniffling as he shot you a smile.

“There you go, pretty girl. Turn over for me now.” 

You nodded dumbly, turning around on the edge of the bed. You used your elbows for support as you perked your backside up. The boy stared at you hungrily. You felt a slap land on your cheek again, causing you to flinch in pain. 

“You wanna feel me?” 

He watched your head bop and down in response. Within no time he prepped himself at your entrance, slowly pushing into you. You groaned into the mattress, feeling his large cock stretch your pussy. 

“Little Miss Capitol is tight, isn’t she?” he sneered.

He slowly pushed himself in, then out. You groaned as his pace picked up excruciatingly slow, every thrust filling you up. His dick stretched your walls, every bit of your pussy was filled with his cock. He gripped your hip and leaned forward, using his free hand to push your wrists further from you.

His pace quickened. His cock slung in and out of you, moaning as he slapped your ass. You didn’t flinch, distracted by the feeling of his cock. Your moans grew louder as he quickened his pace, hitting a spot within you that hadn’t known of until now. Your body quivered as you felt the boy fuck you with all his strength.

You felt his arm wrap around your throat, pulling you up and restraining your breathing. You gasped, his pace not slowing. You felt his chest against your back as he thrusts into you mercilessly. His free hand slithers to your clit, rubbing it in a circular motion. You felt your muscles wear as he continued to push into you, overstimulated beyond comprehension.

Your stomach tightened as you came, and you shrieked. Your entire body loses its balance, flailing forward on your chest. Coriolanus didn’t stop. He continued to thrust into you, your body limp in front of him. You moaned into the mattress as he fucked you whilst his hand circulated your clit. 

“I came, Coriolanus, I came!”

“I know, shut up.”

He ignored your words. Your body tightened again, this time your juices threatened to squirt out. You fought every bone in your body to not let it out. His finger still rubbing your clit as he pushed into you. 

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum again. I can’t, it hurts!”

“Yes, you can, you can.” He breathed from behind you.

You cried out, shamefully squirting on your bedsheets. The boy pulled his cock out and frantically massaged it until his semen shot on your back. He heaved from behind you.

“Now, you are just like the rest of the girls. I’ll see you on Monday, doll.”

—

pt2 published…. read here.

[justjudethoughts]

The hardest part about recovering from Religious OCD is that you are eventually going to have to make the most terrifying leap of faith in the world: to admit that you have done all you can, and trust that God is going to take care of the rest.

For someone who has never experienced OCD, that probably doesn't sound scary at all. But believe me, when you seriously believe that your immortal soul is on the line, that kinda of trust take every last thing you have.

To trust that He wants you in heaven more than you want to be in heaven. To trust that He knows how much you love Him, even when you think that you aren't positive that you love Him. To trust that jumping through hoops isn't what gets you to heaven—His arms are.

For a Catholic, that probably looks like trusting your loved ones when they tell you that you don't need to go to confession. "Okay, but what if I did that time, and it happens to be the ONE time I wasn't obsessing?" 1) the likelihood of that happening is slim to none BUT 2) if it did, do you really think a God Who is love and mercy itself would hold that against you? Don't you know that He knows how confused and scared you are? Don't you know that He knows that you are trusting your loved ones because your brain can't be trusted? Don't you know that He knows that you love Him so much you want to never, ever, ever hurt Him, and you are just trying to be healthy? That is the leap of faith you have to make.

For an Evangelical, it likely looks like doing your best to dismiss questions about whether or not you are saved. You did what you knew to do. You repented, you were baptized, you love God and you are continuing to seek Him out. "But what if I didn't repent right?" --- If you weren't repentant, you wouldn't be worried about it. You love Jesus with everything in you. I know you do. Because if you didn't, you wouldn't be sobbing over the sinner's prayer, trying to say it "correctly." Jesus knows. Jesus knows Your heart, and He came to earth for you, and the misfiring neurons in your brain are not going to be what determines your eternal salvation. He wants you. And you want Him. And that's enough. That's your leap of faith.

And some point, you have to throw your hands in the air and say "Jesus, I did everything I can. I'm scared, and I'm confused, and I don't understand anything, and I don't know what to do anymore. So will you figure it out for me?" And rest in that. Because He will figure it out for you. You don't need to be solving all those mental puzzles. He knows the answers.

He is not mad at you for being confused. He is not upset with you for being scared. He is not angry that you don't have all the answers. Righteousness is not necessarily determined by clarity. He is not impatient with you for being a little lost. He does not begrudge you for your illness.

That is the scariest leap of faith you will ever take. But brothers and sisters, there is freedom on the other side. There is joy on the other side. And Christ will catch you when you jump.

[shakethediseeas]

A mother-type yn in alien stage who's very gentle with every human even if they're a weird(?) (It's luka) in a scenario where they sacrifice themself for the other (very original in alst i know) would be very !!! If they have some kind of lullaby they used to sings for everyone that they hum a tune of it in their last breath, smiling.

ALST CHARACTERS WITH A PARENT-FRIEND READER

You just always had to put others before yourself, huh?

I mean, knowing you, it shouldn't have been a surprise; they should have seen this coming.

But now seeing it happen, you, lifeless on the floor... It's hard to forget. The caring smile on your face, even though you knew you were going to die, you don't care as long as they're safe.

You were the oldest of them all so naturally without even knowing, you cared for them as if they were your family.

You'd teach Mizi, Till and Sua how to make some arts and crafts while watching over Luka who was running from Hyuna.

"Luka... careful! dont pull her!" you softly scold.

It was easy for you to grow on them because they didn't really have parental figures, you were the best moment of their lives.

It took you a while to grow on Ivan, though. After you did, he would always hold your hand, watching the rest with a blank face while you continued talking to him about anything.

Every night, when one of them struggled to fall asleep, you'd make them all gather around in a circle while you sang to them; this time, it was Till who couldn't sleep, so he got to rest his head on your lap while you caressed his head. It always worked.

You'd do anything for them, that much was obvious. When one of them was in trouble you'd go to hell and back just for their sake. You fought for Till. You almost lost your life helping Ivan with Till so they could escape...

You didn't say a word after they came back.

Hyuna would always try to impress you, give you gifts and try to act cool around you, you'd laugh and go along with it. She admires you a lot, you're so composed in any situation and you rush into danger just for the people you care about. She wants to be like that.

Luka... He was...

There is no real way to describe him. He's very smart, but he's quiet and dissociates a lot. You're always there to comfort him and sing softly to him while he hugs you mindlessly.

You had given him a small puzzle for you and him to solve, you went away for a minute and it was already completed. So , you always made more challenging ones everytime. He really appreciated that.

For till , you got him a guitar made of whatever you could, you'd tune it for him and hed smile with beaming eyes at you and always showed you the songs he'd write.

When you got older, you were forced to participate before them, and in your second tournament, you were forced to go up against...

At first, they almost downright refused to participate in the round. upset but they didn't show it. Hesitation as they sing and angry when they see you don't even bother to try.

their eyes widen when you go to sing the sweet melody you played for them, legs weak and they stutter out the lyrics.

You give them a bright smile before everything goes black.

They promised you that they would survive just for you.

[marypaol]

Fingers Through Your Hair

Draco x Fem!Reader

Summary: Reader plays with Draco’s hair while he sleeps.

Warnings: Watching/touching/admiring someone while they sleep? Mention of suspense while reading a book, tenseness during slumber, mention of being trapped, think that’s it. :)

Sorry if it’s too short, I kinda rushed it. Hope you guys enjoy!

Masterlist

Request Requirements

The stack of pages was held in her hands, twinkling eyes scanning the pages as her mind took in the exciting story. Pale fingers was tracing mindless shapes on the skin of her arm, the pace changing every minute or so.

The climax was just on the verge of happening, eyeballs practically skipping over sentences as she died to know what happened next. The face to face encounter of the protagonist and the antagonist was too great, her brain wiring at the information being sprayed at her. Her stomach twisted, eyes danced, and she could feel sweat building on her head. Her eyes widened, the story revealing a secret that she couldn’t bear to face or figure out. Or, that’s what some people would think. She of course hadn’t had any trouble figuring the secrets of the book, digging through the clues that were dropped casually throughout the story and putting them together to make a puzzle picture that was just discovered to most readers. (But not to her of course. She already figured it all out.)

For the reason of her eyes widening was the fact that she got it correct, her assumptions and theories she gathered turned out to be right the whole time.

She found herself lost in the pages that the book had to offer, truly getting sucked in the imaginary world the author created for entertainment.

But wouldn’t it be lovely and truly divine, she thought, setting the book down once she finished it. If the world that was so imaginative and fictional was real?

She sighed at the thought, picturing herself trapped in a tower in a dark abandoned land, looking hopelessly out the window for her lover to arrive and successfully rescue her.

For she knew who would come and serve her right. He would be the only person who would, not that others wouldn’t try only to face him.

But platinum hair was best suited for her, for she wouldn’t have any other interests but he.

Thinking of him now, she just then discovered that his fingers halted their movements not too long before, and her mind couldn’t help but wonder what the purpose was.

She looked over at her love, only to find him in soft gentle slumber, eyelashes tangled together as his pillow lips parted for a quiet breath.

She smiled soft, hand reaching over to cover him more with the blanket he had himself wrapped in, only for it to previously roll down his shoulders.

She then laid down softly next to him, her elbow holding her up as she used the same arm to place it near his head, almost like she was protecting him.

The face of her love was closer to her, so she now noticed the soft crease in his eyebrows, along sided with the visible tenseness on his shoulders. She shook her head softly, for that simply couldn’t do, and so she pointed out her pinky finger and reached for his forehead. Her finger practically brushed his skin, in between his eyebrows, stroking the crease away as she watch a sense of peace come over him, his eyebrows raising in a calming manner.

She smiled then, knowing he was peaceful now because of her doing.

She then lent forward, lips puckering as she pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead, fingers uncontrollably going to his hair strands. His hair was very soft, and how he kept it that she didn’t know, but that was his secret to keep because she simply liked wondering how he did it. Once her fingers reached a soft knot in his strands, most likely from his hands digging into his hair anxiously throughout the day, she was worried if she undid it with her fingers it would wake him up, so she carefully grabbed her wand, wood smooth beneath her finger tips.

She pointed the tip to his hair, whispering soft Charms as she watched the strands undo themselves. She smiled soft, putting her wand away as it was now long forgotten, her mind swarming with thoughts of her lover.

She sighed contently, fingers brushing through his hair slowly.

A intake of breath was heard, forcing her attention to his soft face. It scrunched up for a second, eyes fluttering as his silver eyes opened. He blinked a couple times, moonlight reflecting in his pupils making his orbs sparkle. He felt the touch in his hair, the extra blanket covering him, and his eyes met hers.

His lips curved into a soft smile, left hand reaching for her as it soon rested on her thigh, stroking the skin through the fabric.

“Hey, loves.” His voice was groggy and deep, but she liked it. She replied with a smile, fingers moving in his hair once again.

A sigh escaped his lips, head turning to rest near her chest, chasing for warmth. She kissed his forehead once again, mouth leaning towards his ear. The skin was warm on her lips as she whispered the truth. “I love you.”

She felt his lips stretch into a soft smile against her clothes, so she smiled too. His smile always made her smile, despite if she could see it or not.

“Oh but I love you most.” He mumbled into her shirt, voice muffled but she heard him all too well.

A flush came about her cheeks, traveling to her ears.

“Doubt it.” She replied, despite her red face.

Draco answered with a hum. Either he didn’t hear her, or did and chose to ignore it.

“You smell good loves; new shampoo perhaps?”

“Draco, I’ve been using this shampoo since First Year.”

Draco hummed again, snuggling his face into her neck. She heard him sniff as he smelled her hair again. “Mm? First Year? I should smell your hair more often loves.”

The girl rolled her eyes, stroking the hair on the back of his neck. She kissed it, keeping her mouth pressed there as her nose touched his warm skin.

“Ahh. This feels nice.” Draco murmured. She then felt him smirk into her neck. “What do you say we do this more often?”

[alicewritez]

A Promise - Jack Sparrow

word count: 1071

summary: Jack makes the promise to never let you go again

Jack Sparrow x Reader

authors note: I’ve only just started getting into writing again so it could be a little hit and miss but hope you enjoy it anyway 💕

It's been months since you last seen Jack. You both were an inseparable force when together; two parts of a puzzle that just clicked together. Well.. that's what you thought until he got himself captured, taking the blame for your apparent disappearance. You weren't the woman they were looking for, you just happened to have similar features but they were losing hope and needed someone to blame - so Jack stepped up.

The more time that passed, the more you lost hope of ever seeing him again. Days turned into weeks. Weeks turned into months and no one had heard a single thing from him. You worried, of course you did, he was only human. But if there was one thing you knew about Jack, it was that he could always get himself out of trouble no matter what it was. But your lack of hope didn't last as a familiar figure stumbled towards you, almost in a drunken state but he also looked completely sober. But it couldn't be, could it?

You squinted your eyes, looking into the distance to try and see the figure more clearly; it looked all too familiar but you weren't about to get your hopes up. Your heartbeat raced with every step he took, getting closer to you. It was indeed Jack, though his face was scratched and bruised quite badly. He stood there with waiting arms wide open, ready to welcome you into them - this was new. "I finally did it.. I came for you." And without a second thought, you sprinted into his waiting arms, burying your face into his chest, relishing in the feeling of being held in his arms.

He wrapped his arms around you tight, his exhaustion washing away almost immediately and was soon replaced with relief. He squeezed you tight and sighed deeply - he couldn't believe this either. "I thought I'd never see you again.." he mumbled, burying his face into your hair; it smelled of salt water and sea air.. home. He sighed once more. "I never want to let you go.. I'm never letting you go."

You pull away to take a closer look at his face, reaching a hand up and tracing your fingers gently over his cuts and bruises. "What did they do to you?" You asks in a whisper, mostly to yourself, but Jack heard nonetheless.

"Nothing I couldn't handle," he replied dismissively. He took your hand that was cradling his face and kept a hold of it, bringing it to his chest as he closed the distance between the pair of you again. "These?" He references his bruises, "they're nothing compared to what was going through my head about you." He sighed deeply, his grip tightening on you as if he was afraid you would disappear if he let go. "I couldn't get you off my mind.. I didn't think I'd ever see you again."

"You're hurt though," you swallow back a sob. "They hurt you."

"I'm okay really-" he started but saw your worried look and stopped. You were always like that; always caring for him. Always worried for him. Always his weakness.

He leaned his head down to press his forehead against yours. "I survived, and I'm okay."

"Surviving doesn't mean that you're okay though, does it?" Tears still gathered in your eyes as you took in the sight of him.

You always understood him so well. Maybe even better than he knew himself. "No, you're right," he mumbled, pulling you closer. "But.. I would survive anything for you." Jack buried his face into your neck, taking in your scent after such a long time apart, his hands rubbing your back gently, trying to give you some sort of comfort.

"You're so stupid, do you know that?" You speak up and break the silence.

A smirk instantly spreads on his face. "Stupid enough to come back for you." He turned his head so that you were facing each other; your eyes locked and his smirk turns into a playful smile. The Jack you knew was slowly coming back to you.

You shake your head with a laugh; everything felt so natural when you were around him that it almost didn't feel real. But it was. And he was here, in front of you, the both of you finally together again.

He leaned forward so that your noses were almost touching. You're laugh made him feel lighter; happier. Everything about you made his heart skip a beat. He slowly reached his hand up to your face, brushing your cheeks with his thumb. "I missed you."

“I missed you too Jack.” She spoke sincerely. “I assume you’ll be wanting the pearl back.”

He stayed glued to the same spot, his eyes never once leaving yours, his hand still firmly placed on your cheek. “Ah yes, the Pearl.” But in truth, he was in no hurry, this moment with you was already more than enough. “And you.”

“Well obviously.” You teased with a wide smile.

“Oh obviously, but I’m not talking about the ship.” He leaned his face closer until his lips hovered right above your own. “I’m talking about you. I missed you..” he whispered, finally pressing his lips to yours. “I want you.”

“And I’m pretty sure if I mentioned that there was rum on the ship, you’d want that too?” You smirk. He couldn’t help but laugh and met himself smile.

“Of course not, as long as I’m accompanied by you,” he replied, his hand moving down your back and his fingers wrapping your waist. “You got me hooked..”

“Like an anchor in the sand.” You finished with a proud smile, beaming up at him.

“An anchor for me to keep me grounded,” he mumbled back with a smirk; his hand moving up your back to the nape of your neck, brushing his fingers through your hair as he leaned closer, your faces now almost pressed together.

“I won’t let you go,” he whispered, his forehead touching yours as he held you impossibly closer. “Never again.”

And that was a promise he planned to keep.

[mikashisus]

the trickster and the sun

SYNOPSIS: kinich was fast in everything he did, but with you, he felt as if time always moved slow.

PAIRING: child of hermes!kinich x gn!child of apollo!reader

TAGLIST ! @wystiix @pneumosia @pixelcafe-network

warnings: none

word count: 749

notes: another pjo au!! i think im going to make this a mini series. this is a little smth to set up a longer oneshot i have planned for sometime in the future, tho the mc of that one will be a child of ares ;) also, this can be interpreted as platonic, it's up to u guys!

Kinich was fast. 

Sometimes, he was so fast that you couldn’t keep up. Not only was he ahead of the game when it came to tricks and locks, but he was also a supersonic runner. No one in camp could ever keep up with him, not even his siblings. 

He liked to leave you puzzles. Not the kind of puzzles and mind games Athena’s children would give out, but lock puzzles. He’d sneak them into your bag or pockets when you could’ve sworn it wasn’t there moments ago. You’d spend the entire afternoon figuring them out, twisting and turning the handmade puzzles and trying to break them apart. 

Eventually, you’d throw your hands up in frustration and dispose of the device, stalking off to the target range to vent your anger out. 

As a child of Hermes, Kinich was exceptionally playful and mischievous, but it wasn’t as obvious as it was with his siblings. His trickster side truly came to the surface through his actions and the small glint in his eyes every time he talked to you. 

There was one time he had stolen your prized golden bow, gifted to you by your father, right under your nose. You had turned around for a split second, and the weapon was no longer hanging on the wall near your bed, but tucked underneath his in the Hermes cabin. You had looked high and low for it, even checking the target range to make sure you hadn’t accidentally left it there. 

Clueless to his act of theft, you began to panic and wonder if your father would kill you for losing something so precious. As soon as you began to pace around and ramble about the consequences, Kinich’s guilt overcame him and he summoned the bow back from its hiding place. 

The scolding he received after was greater than any other time you yelled at him for his conniving tricks. The look in your eyes moments before convinced him to never steal anything precious of yours again, for fear of seeing that same exact expression on your face. 

Aside from his tricks and theatrics, Kinich was a messenger like his father. He loved to travel and take on odd jobs not only in camp but around the world too. And with his speed, he was back to camp in less than a few minutes of taking on a job. It was almost as if he had teleported there and back. 

He was truly a jack of all trades, but he could never best you at archery; for that was something you were naturally skilled at as a child of Apollo. He could never best you at shining brightly like the sun, either. 

In every aspect, you outshone him. Like now, when you were guiding new campers to their cabin (per your request and Chiron’s surprise). 

Everyone knew you to be quite outgoing and cheerful, with a smile so blindingly bright it resembled your father’s, and an aura about you that felt warm and fuzzy on his skin– as if he was sitting in the sun. 

As you spotted your best friend, you waved enthusiastically and called out to him, making a beeline for where he was standing just outside the Hephaestus cabin. With an eager voice, you introduced him to the campers. 

It seemed as if there had been many newcomers recently, and with newcomers meant there would likely be new occupants to the Hermes cabin. The Hermes cabin was lively and packed all the time. He was lucky if he even got a moment of silence during the day. That, or some space. 

Though, he preferred to just go elsewhere and take a moment to breathe. Like, finding you in the solace of Apollo’s cabin or heading out to the target range to watch you practice. If you were sitting on your bed reading a book, he’d flip the pages to get your attention or steal one of the highlighters in your hand. If you were practicing in the target range, he’d take your arrows and your quiver and misplace them so you’d focus on him. 

Kinich was a trickster. 

And oftentimes, you couldn’t keep up with his tricks, much like you could never beat him in a race. He was annoying in an endearing way, always stealing your things to gain your attention and showing off his speed in races to prove himself to you. 

He was playful and witty, but above all, he was your best friend.

notes: like i said, i have another kinich wip planned but the mc will be a child of ares and im very excited to write it :D it's gonna be much longer than this one too! maybe as long as the tartag pjo au fic i wrote a bit ago, we’ll see!

© 2024 mikashisus. do not plagiarize, copy, repost, feed to ai, or translate my works to any other platforms.

[23starii]

Pleasant Surprise - tendo x reader

Summary: He's used to girls trying to get through him to get to Ushiwaka. He knows no girl actually wants to be with him or get to know him. None of the gifts he receives are ever actually for him. Until you approach him one day after practice.

Warnings/notes: insecurity, speculation, rudeness, but, tbh not that much, short reader (shorter than Tendo). Chat I literally wrote all of day two and left to find a divider AND TURNS OUT EVERYTHING DELETED SO I HAD TO REWRITE THE WHOLE THING 😆😆😆😆😆

Day one

Practice was finally over.

Tendo loved it. It was another good day for him and the team.

What he didn't quite loves was-

"E-excuse me?" A tiny feminine voice to his left.

"Can I help you?" He answered, almost rudely. He knew what was to come, especially with the way you held the small, neatly wrapped gift box in between your hands.

"I'm really sorry to bother you, Tendo.." You began, shyly looking up at the taller male.

Tendo almost rolled his eyes. He wanted to just tell you to go away. He couldn't take it anymore. He just wanted to go home, but here you were, a cute girl saying his name with the sweetest voice trying to use him to get to his buddy.

It would be nice not to be looked over for once. Not only was it annoying to have to go through this nearly every day but painful, too. You were so cute and pretty. He recalled seeing you around and watching their practice several times.

"I made this for you. I was wondering if you'd accept it?" The girl brought her arms up higher, showing off the tiny box to the volleyball player.

"Listen-" Tendo almost answered in his usual way, telling girls to just go away because Ushiwaka didn't want their gifts anyway but then he realized what you said.

A gift for him? This was new. You wanted to earn his trust and get close to him just so he could introduce you to Ushiwaka. Didn't you?

Figures.

"U-um, you don't have to.. if you don't want to." You spoke up after Tendo was quiet for some time, thinking.

"Is it for me?" He wondered.

"Yes! It's for you! I made this just for you, Tendo."

Before he could say anything, you decided to keep speaking your mind, making sure he understood the extent of your purpose for being in front of him today.

"I've been coming to watch you practice for some time now.. you're amazing. You're so tall and a great blocker! I can tell you enjoy playing the game very much.. you always have a smile on your face when you play. And I enjoy watching you..very much as well."

Tendo was stunned, to say the least. You spoke without even looking at him. What you said didn't sound rehearsed or bogusly put together.

He wasn't sure what to say or do. He didn't know if he was convinced either.

"I took the time to learn that you really like chocolate too.. so that's why I made it for you. It took me a while to get the recipe right, but I did it just for you.. so I would really appreciate it if you could accept my hard work." You stared at the floor, face flushed and embarrassed, arms stretched out. You couldn't believe you poured nearly your whole heart out to him when he hadn't even said more than one word to you.

"Um.. okay. Thank you very much. I'll make sure to have these later." Tendo took the small box from your pretty hands. He had never been in a situation like this before - he hoped his answer wasn't too blunt or that he made you feel dumb for being here.

"Please! Let me know if you like them! Or if you dont.. I'd be very happy to make more for you!" You bowed quickly before speeding off in the opposite direction, cheeks burning.

You really hopped you hadn't said too much.

Tendo watched you walk away, cocking his head slightly to the his right, puzzled.

Could it be that you really did make it for him because you wanted to give it to him?

Could it be true that you really had been watching him and not Ushiwaka?

"Damn. That girl was really nervous." He hears Semi from his left speak.

"Aw man! You're so lucky, Tendo! She was cute.." Goshiki gushes from his right.

"Yeah, she was.."

Day two

The next day, Tendo walked the halls with the knowledge that somewhere in the same building, there was a girl who made the best chocolates he's ever had.

He hardly thought of anything else since he popped one of the treats into his mouth the night prior. He couldn't believe something so delicious could be made. And just for him nonetheless.

He hoped your words were truthful. He hoped he would see you again that afternoon so he could thank you.

Tendo made his way toward the gym, where he would be partaking in the usual practice routine.

When he arrived and was fully changed into his gym clothes, he made sure to warm up with his teammates.

He stretched and received a few balls, making sure to keep an eye out for you.

The redhead made sure to glance over at the students' section every so often.

Tendo was quite disillusioned to find you nowhere to be seen.

An hour into practice, he figured you just weren't coming. He had been tricked, hadn't he.

Oh well.

There's no way a girl like you would seriously be into him.

He decided to go on as if nothing had happened, as per usual. He continued giving it his all during practice as was expected from him.

.

.

.

Tendo exited the changing room, having his regular school uniform on now. He could hear his younger teammates messing about in the room behind him while he bent down low, grabbing his shows and placing them in front of himself.

"Tendo." He hears the firm, stoic voice of his best buddy call out.

"Hey! Wakaaa!" The lankier boy teased with the nickname, looking off in Ushijima's direction whilst putting his left shoe on.

"There was a girl looking for you." The barely taller male spoke.

"A girl?" Tendo repeated, moving on to his right shoe.

"I thought she was gonna ask me for my autograph. Instead, she asked me about you." Ushiwaka informed, with his usual straight face.

Tendo straightened up his body, finishing up with his shoes he turned his full attention to his friend.

"Where is she?" The redhead asked, picturing your shaky figure holding out the gift he enjoyed so much.

Ushiwaka shrugged.

"She was outside the gym, last time I saw her."

Tendo thanked his friend and quickly made his way back to the gym, hoping he hadn't missed you.

He was relieved to find you curiously standing about right outside the gym.

"Excuse me?" He spoke, stepping to you.

You quickly turn around to meet the boy, your hair whipping the air from the speed.

"Tendo!" You spoke, surprised.

"I'm shocked, I didn't think I'd see you again or have the chance to thank you for those chocolates." Tendo teased, reffering to your absence earlier.

He watched your face twist into guilt.

"I am only able to see you when my club activities end early. I'm so sorry! Did you like the gift then..?" You ramble, apologetically, your cheeks flushing.

Tendo suddenly found it increasingly difficult to hide how flattered he is by your presence.

You took the time to come see him after your own club activities and even asked Ushiwaka about him. And the way you messed with your uniform nervously as you spoke was adorable in his eyes.

"Like it? I loved it!! I've never had anything so good before." His face warmed up.

"Really?? It was a family recipe.. I barely learned it, so I'm glad you enjoyed them!" You gave another sweet smile, almost as sweet as the treats the boy had last night.

"You'll have to teach me that recipe some time, cause seriously, I've never had anything like that before!" He gushed, hoping he didn't sound too enthusiastic.

You blush at his compliments.

"So.. do you enjoy making sweets too, Tendo?" You wonder, hoping the two of you might find something in common, it would be beneficial to keep the conversation going which you hoped would happen.

"Actually, I've never baked or anything like that. But, if it's possible to make something that good, I'd like to learn it."

You were happy that he took such interest in you. You honestly hadn't expected it. You were just some girl after all. It warmed your heart and the tips of your ears.

"By the way, you were looking for me? Ushiwaka told me."

Again, your cheeks flushed and you stiffened up.

"Well, I wanted to see you! I am a fan of yours, you know!" You laughed awkwardly admitting you truly did just want to see him.

Tendo's cheeks warmed further equal to yours now.

You wanted to see him? His fan? A pretty girl?

Could words be ever more flattering? Could you make him any more embarrassed? He seriously couldn't believe it.

You really called yourself his fan.

"Oh, wow. I didn't know I had such a beautiful fan." He sputtered, relieved that he hadn't stuttered. He almost missed your expression after those words.

Your face dropped, and he could see the visible pink hue that coated your pretty cheeks.

"I-Well, you know, I mean.. you're awesome and like also super! And beautiful.. too.." Your eyes widened from your own words. How could one stumble over themselves so damn much?

You internally beat the shit out of yourself. There's no way you didn't totally just blow it.

You almost missed how his eyes widened, too, and he blushed. Tendo looked as if you could eat him right up right then and there.

"Jeez.. you really came here just to flatter me." Tendo couldn't ignore the fact that no one had ever called him beautiful before. You were the first. And damn, it was a really nice feeling.

He couldn't believe it. This had to be a dream.

You couldn't really reply after how badly you stuttered you were surely traumatized from the embarrassment.

"So, how about that recipe?"

The boy eased your nerves by not turning away or insinuating that he disliked you. He wouldn't anyway. No way in a million years would he walk away.

You smiled, taking a deep breath to calm yourself before continuing the conversation.

You gave him a social media account of your choosing so he could contact you.

Tendo asked about your club, and the two of you spoke of your many interests. He even walked with you to your bus stop.

You found that the two of you didn't have much in common, but his interest in your hobby of baking and making sweets just might change that.

It might even create a duo of married chocolatiers.

✧˖*°࿐