#but this is a challenge so they might join every once in a while

[instarsandcrimeah]

Alrighty, I wanna do an In Stars and Time Playthrough, were every day is ACTUALLY A DAY. And like, Time how long it takes me to get to the end.

Don't worry Sif, I'll figure out how long you were in there- IN REAL TIME-

I'll do a Video about it or something, it'll be fun, I just gotta remember to hop on and play.

Rules of the Run 1) When you die, first save point you find you save at, and turn it off until the next day. 2) When you die you HAVE TO START AT THE BEGINNING. as in, you're waking up in that field everyday. 3) No jumping forward. Start at the beginning every time. 4) Aanndd Any %, this sucker is gonna take forever to do anyways, you can also Zone out if you want.

I'm gonna start this on April 1st. (Just remembered that's April fools day- I pick this day because it'll make math easier, I don't like that Holiday.)

[xo100]

Hey, can you write about landos gf breaking her arm and him taking care of her? like having to help her change and shower, doing her hair und stuff line that? thank you <3

In his care - LN4

*:･ﾟ Summary/request: request by anon as you can read above this!

*:･ﾟ Word count: 1562

masterlist / community / request

౨ৎ

Lando Norris had always been the playful, light-hearted boyfriend, the type to tease and make you laugh until your stomach hurt. But after three years together, there was a depth to your relationship that went beyond just the banter and the fun. He’d become your best friend, your confidant, and now, your caretaker.

You hadn’t expected to be in this position—broken arm in a sling, unable to do even the most basic things without help. It was a stupid accident, really. A slip, a fall, and now you were stuck in this uncomfortable, frustrating situation. But as it turned out, Lando was more than up for the challenge of taking care of you. In fact, he seemed to enjoy it.

-

The first real test came on day one, when it was time for you to shower. Lando, always the playful one, had teased you when he realized you’d need help.

“So, I get to see you naked... and it’s for ‘medical reasons’? Lucky me,” he said with a wink, earning him an eye-roll from you.

“Lando,” you groaned, cheeks flushing. “This isn’t exactly a fun situation, you know.”

But even as you complained, you couldn’t help but laugh. He had a way of lightening even the most awkward moments. His teasing helped take your mind off the discomfort and frustration of not being able to do things on your own. Lando knew when to joke, and when to be serious.

“I’m kidding, love,” he said, his tone softening as he walked over to you. “I’ve got you, okay?”

And he did. Gently, he helped you undress, his fingers careful around your arm. There was something about the way he moved—confident yet delicate—that made you feel safe. Vulnerable, yes, but never embarrassed. He was Lando, your Lando, and there was no one else you trusted more.

Once you were under the warm spray of water, he joined you, shampooing your hair, his fingers massaging your scalp. It was a strange, intimate experience, but not in a way that made you feel uncomfortable. In fact, it was sweet.

“Maybe I should do this for you more often,” he murmured, lips close to your ear.

“You think I’ll let you wash my hair when I’m fully capable?” you shot back, a smile tugging at your lips.

He chuckled, his breath warm on your neck. “You never know, you might like the service.”

But as much as he teased, there was genuine care in the way he handled you. He washed every inch of your body with the gentleness you never knew he had. You leaned into him, resting your head on his chest for a moment, feeling his steady heartbeat beneath your ear.

“Thank you,” you whispered.

“For what?” he asked softly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

“For being... you.”

-

You never realized how hard it was to do something as simple as put your hair in a ponytail with one hand. By the third day, you were ready to give up on the idea of leaving the house with your hair looking decent. But, of course, Lando wasn’t going to let that happen.

“Okay, I’m going to do it,” he said, determination in his voice as he picked up your hairbrush and an elastic.

You sat in front of him, trying to keep still while he struggled to gather your hair into something resembling a ponytail. The concentration on his face was adorable—his tongue poking out a little as he focused on the task at hand.

“Lando, it’s fine,” you said after the third attempt. “I can just wear it down.”

“No way,” he said, shaking his head. “I’m getting this right.”

It took another few tries, but eventually, he managed to pull your hair into a somewhat lopsided ponytail. He grinned proudly, admiring his work in the mirror behind you.

“Look at that! I’m a pro,” he said, obviously pleased with himself.

You laughed, reaching up with your good hand to touch the ponytail. It wasn’t perfect, but it was endearing in its imperfection.

“I love it,” you said sincerely.

He wrapped his arms around you from behind, resting his chin on your good shoulder. “Told you I’d take care of you.”

“You’re doing a great job, babe.”

-

As the days went on, Lando had to help you with more than just your hair. Getting dressed with one hand was a nightmare, and you hated having to rely on him for something so simple. But Lando, being the cheeky guy he was, turned it into something fun.

“Alright, love, what’ll it be today?” he asked, holding up two of your shirts. “Sexy red or casual blue?”

You gave him a pointed look. “I’m not trying to impress anyone, Lando.”

He smirked, his eyes twinkling mischievously. “You’re always impressing me, though.”

You rolled your eyes, but your heart fluttered at his words. He knew exactly how to make you feel special, even when you were at your most vulnerable.

“Blue,” you said with a sigh, and he grinned.

Helping you get dressed was, of course, another challenge. He was gentle but still fumbled a bit, trying not to hurt your arm as he guided it through the sleeve.

“Sorry, sorry!” he muttered as he accidentally tugged too hard on your sling.

You laughed through the discomfort. “You’re not great at this, huh?”

“Hey! I’m doing my best here,” he protested, but there was no real frustration in his voice. He was patient with you, and that was what mattered.

Once you were dressed, he stepped back to admire his work.

“Not bad, huh?” he said, a proud smile on his face.

“Not bad at all,” you agreed, and he leaned down to kiss you softly.

-

By the end of the week, you were starting to feel a little more like yourself, but the pain in your arm was still a constant reminder of your injury. Lando, ever the attentive boyfriend, noticed when you were getting frustrated or tired, and he was always there to offer comfort.

That evening, you were lying on the couch, scrolling mindlessly through your phone, when Lando plopped down beside you. Without a word, he pulled you into his arms, careful of your injured arm, and snuggled up close.

“You doing okay?” he asked, his voice soft in your ear.

“Yeah,” you sighed. “Just... tired of this.”

“I know,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your temple. “But you’re doing great. And I’m here, okay? For as long as you need me.”

You smiled, leaning into him. His warmth, his presence—it was everything you needed. You didn’t have to ask for his help; he just gave it freely, without hesitation.

As you lay there together, his fingers absentmindedly drawing circles on your back, you realized how lucky you were. Not just because he was helping you through this injury, but because he was Lando. The man who loved you unconditionally, who saw you at your weakest and still made you feel strong.

“Love you,” you whispered, closing your eyes.

“Love you more,” he replied softly, and you could hear the smile in his voice.

And in that moment, broken arm and all, you felt more loved than ever.

-

As your arm started to heal, you began to regain some independence, but that didn’t stop Lando from taking every opportunity to tease you. He seemed to enjoy his new role as caretaker a little too much, and he never missed a chance to flirt.

One afternoon, you were sitting at the kitchen table, trying to cut up some fruit with your good hand. Lando walked in, immediately taking the knife from you.

“Let me help,” he said, leaning in close.

“I can do it,” you protested, though you didn’t exactly mind when he was this close to you.

He grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Yeah, but I do it better, don’t I?”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t hide the smile that tugged at your lips. He knew exactly how to get under your skin, but in the best way.

As he cut up the fruit, he stole glances at you, his smile never fading. “You know,” he said casually, “taking care of you has been... kind of fun.”

“Oh, has it now?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah,” he said, sliding a piece of fruit toward you. “I mean, I get to spend all this extra time with you, take care of you, shower with you...”

“Lando!” you laughed, swatting at him with your good hand.

He chuckled, leaning down to kiss you. “I’m just saying, maybe I should be your personal nurse more often.”

“You’re ridiculous,” you said, but your heart swelled with love for him.

“I know,” he replied, his voice soft as he looked into your eyes. “But you love me for it.”

And he was right.

౨ৎ

*:･ﾟ Notes; thank you for reading, love’s! Hope you all enjoyed it! If there is something wrong or need to be edited, let me know! Also hey anon! If you read this, I hope that this is what you had in mind!

[writersblockedx]

Something Inappropriate

Pairing - Professor! Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader Summary - When Spencer Reid bumps into one of his students while she's highly intoxicated, he takes it upon himself to get her home safely. Warnings - Student/teacher relationship, drinking, very slight implication of sexual assault Words - 1.9K

A/n - Thinking about making this into a little mini-series so let me know if you like this!

masterlist

It was Friday night and every student was somewhere in town. Groups of them crowding the bar, ordering shots or vodka sodas. Whatever was cheapest and whatever could get them drunk enough.

It just so happened that this certain Friday night, Y/n had gulped on too many drinks. It was barely 1am before she was stumbling to the dance floor, her friend's hand interlocked. Her intoxicated dance was enough to draw some attention. Some men eyeing her in the corner, some more girls wanting to join in and a man she knew at the bar: Professor Spencer Reid. One of her lecturers. Her favourite lecturer in fact.

Y/n didn't really register it in her drunken state until she wandered up to the bar and spotted him closer up. He was sipping on a something with coke, stood beside a man she didn't recognise: broad-shouldered and tough. "Professor?" She called with a sly smile rising to her lips.

Spencer turned: a pleasant surprise. "Y/n, hi, it's good to see you." He returned the smile, observing the girl's obvious drunken state.

"Well, I certainly didn't expect to see you here...no offence." She giggled drunkenly. Her professor was, obviously, much older. He seemed the type to enjoy a book on a Friday night - not a bar.

Spencer pointed to the man next to him, "It's erm- Morgan dragged me here." Said man turned to face Y/n, a cheeky glint already settled in his eye.

"Are you one of the doctor's students, hm?" He asked.

"I am," She answered, "Do you work at BAU too?"

Morgan shook his head, "Used to."

"Well, it was nice bumping into you both," She sent them a final smile, "See you Monday morning, sir." She directed such at Spencer before turning to face the bartender who was awaiting to take her order.

And once she grasped it, returning to her friends with a stumble in her steps, Morgan glanced back at Reid. The boy knew Morgan long enough to know what was coming: what that glint in his eyes meant. "She's interesting," He commented, observing Spencer. "Maybe I need to switch career paths."

Spencer swallowed hard on his drink, "She's my student, Morgan." The other man only shrugged at such response; nothing in the sensual sense ever seemed off-putting to Morgan. But Spencer, well he had many lines he had yet to cross. And Y/n was one of them.

His eyes gazed over to the girl who was giggling at something one of her friends had said. She was beautiful - she would give Morgan that. But, as much as that was the case, a relationship further than academic would be... inappropriate. No matter what Spencer might have thought about the girl. Even now, as he glanced at her from afar, she seemed nothing but carefree, captivating, alluring. And he couldn't let his mind go there.

An hour or so had passed when Spencer finally convinced Morgan that they should go home. He wandered outside, making sure Morgan got into his taxi all right before the front door to the bar swung open. Y/n stepped out, attempting to grasp a single cigarette from the packet. She had yet to notice her professor watching her. Once she had one between her fingertips, another challenge arrived: lightening it.

"Need some help there?" Spencer wandered up to her, shoving his hand into his trouser pockets.

If she were sober, she probably would have stopped what she was doing. Smoking in front of one of her preferred professors wasn't exactly the view she wanted to give. "Erm- I-" She sighed, giving in and handing the lighter over to Spencer, "Yes."

He took it, creating a block from the wind with one hand and letting the fire ignite before the girl was able to inhale the smoke into her lungs. "Thanks," She muttered before he took a step away.

"You shouldn't smoke you know," He could go on a ramble - but he wouldn't.

She shrugged, "I know, I just- I can't find my friends, I don't know where they've gone." She explained. "I thought they might be out here."

Spencer looked around the pavement they were standing on: deserted. "But?"

"But, they're not." She huffed as the smoke exhaled from her lips. She stumbled as she took a step, "I think- I think they went to some club." Her head banged - it was all beginning to become blurred.

And at her words, Spencer's concern intensified. "And they left you here?" He questioned.

Her eyes fell to the floor as she attempted to think, "I didn't want to go." She told him. "I shouldn't be- I can't-"

Before she could get out her drunken slurs, a hand came to her shoulder, "Do you have a way home?"

Y/n found herself effortlessly staring into the gaze of her behavioural analyst professor. "I erm- I walk." She answered him as if he had willed the very words from her lips.

Spencer decided then and there; he wasn't having this. If not for the very feeling inside him that compelled him to take care of her, it was the fact she was a young girl walking alone at night. Quite frankly, he taught some of the men at this college - he didn't trust them. "Come on," He spoke as he wandered over to his car.

Yet, Y/n stayed where she was, "What?" She couldn't even think this was a possibility.

"I'll drive you home," He said as he stopped, just by the driver's door. "Don't worry, I've only had two drinks. I just want to make sure you get home safe."

She shook her head. As tempting as a drive home with her attractive professor was, she couldn't possibly. "I'm fine, honestly-" She took a step, tripping on her own two feet.

Luckily, Spencer caught her before her face hit the stone concrete. Her fingers gripped his wrists as he took a hold of her. They didn't let go - not straight away. A moment passed as Y/n raised her head as to meet her professor's gaze. "What were you saying again?" He made the point of making.

She let go and straightened her back, "Are you sure don't mind?"

His smile became one of empathy, "I'd rather do this than wonder what could happen to you alone."

And so, without another thought, she slipped into the passenger seat of Spencer's car. A part of her wanted to be home, wanted to be in her bed. The other, however, liked the idea of being here...with him. "It's erm, Rose court, the student accom." She informed. "It's probably only a five-minute drive."

Spencer thought about making the point that even if it was an hour's drive, he would have made it at that very moment. He wanted her safe. Maybe because she was a brilliant student, maybe because he was concerned, or maybe because something else was urging his actions. Something of which the man had had a conscious decision to push to the side.

Though, even in a five-minute drive, Y/n had been lulled into sleep. The safety of someone she knew, the comfort of the leather car seat and the way the drinks had made her drowsy. Her eyelids had grown heavy and she didn't put up a fight against it. 

When the car engine stopped, Spencer looked over at her. For a few seconds, he thought about not waking her. She was so peaceful, tranquil, with no worries, nothing but her own dreams. "Y/n," He whispered. Nothing. He placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, "Y/n, hey, we're here."

Slowly, her eyelids started to flutter open and she found her view of her professor. It was all real. It wasn't just an intoxicated dream. "Sorry," She murmured in response.

"It's fine, don't worry about it," He spoke before exiting the car and going round as to open the passenger door for the girl. "Are you okay to walk?"

She slipped her legs out, "I'm fine yeah."

Famous last words.

The moment her heels hit the concrete pavement, she wobbled right into Spencer's hold. "Okay, I'll walk you up to your room." He decided then and there, without even consulting the girl on such.

"I can walk up to my room, professor." She argued.

But all she was met with was a raised brow of uncertainty, "You can't get out of the car without falling. How do you think stairs are going to go?" That was something she chose not to argue with.

She started wandering up to the first door, searching through her bag for the keys. She swayed until she felt an arm wrap around her waist. Her body steadied. Her eyes found Spencer again. The subtle touch was making even her drunken, confident self nervous. "Is this okay?" He checked when he observed her unsure body language.

The girl swallowed, "Hmh." And then she looked away, finally grasping her keys.

Spencer watched as she stumbled over to the door, not daring to let his touch leave the girl. She slipped the key into the door and they were over the first hurdle. And then, stairs. "Let's go slow, okay?" Spencer soothed her through.

She gave nothing but an incoherent nod as she followed Spencer's steps. "Which one is it?" He questioned.

Y/n was pointing to a door across from the stairs, "B..B35." She informed as Spencer guided her to the door and she started looking for the apartment door key. "I've got it...somewhere." In the midst of her search, a thought came to mind. Her movement stopped and she glanced up over at Spencer, "Can I ask you something actually? While I'm, you know, erm-"

"Drunk?" Spencer chuckled as he finished her sentence.

"I mean, yeah." She couldn't deny such a fact. "I mean, I always wondered why you left the BAU? You always talk about it in lectures and it just- you talked about it with a lot of love." Spencer's smile faltered at the thought of nostalgic memories. "Sorry, if that's intruding, I just, I-"

"No, no, it's fine," Spencer's words were quick to ease the girl's worrisome thoughts. "I suppose I needed a break, a lot of things happened, I needed time away from the field to process them I guess." He explained, wondering if the girl would even remember any of this by the morning. Would she even know who dropped her off home?

She hummed, "Makes sense I guess." And like that, with no judgement or opinion, she went back to find her apartment key. "Here,"

Y/n swung the door open to her dorm, "Are you sure you're going to be alright?" Spencer checked.

"I think I can just about make it to my bed," She joked as she leaned against the doorframe. "Thank you, by the way." He didn't have to do what he did. Most professors wouldn't have done. But he, he was different.

His hands found their way back into the deep depths of his pockets as he replied, "I don't just have a responsibility to teach, but also a duty of care, I'm always here to make sure you're okay."

And he would be. For her, definitely. There was something ever so alluring about the girl. Something he would force himself to ignore. Something he wouldn't act on. Something which was inappropriate. 

[writtenbymoonflower]

Unpretty

You are insecure and Peter is oblivious. tasm!Peter Parker x fem!reader

cw: reader had very negative thoughts about body image. mentions of weight and general body image issues. i tried to keep it as neutral as possible so everybody could read and relate, so it can be read as plus!size reader or not.

1.5k words

The position you were in wasn’t unnecessarily uncomfortable. The physical part felt really nice, actually. Peter was laid on his side, nose nuzzled into your hair while you were in his arms flat on your back. His even breathing was soothing and you felt close and warm. 

Emotionally, however, you felt confused. 

You had to resist cringing every time you remembered that Peter’s large hand was spread over the bottom of your tummy, likely feeling everything “wrong” about it. He could definitely feel it wasn’t as flat or firm as you would like it to be, even through your thick crewneck. And even though you logically knew it was impossible, you felt the stinging insecurity all over your body, like he was touching you everywhere you hated. Your brain was telling you that through feeling the soft part of your stomach, he could also feel and see where your thighs were too big, where stretchmarks were painted all over your body, and where your skin wasn’t completely smooth. 

He probably would hate my body as much as I do if he could see. The little voice in your head nagged. 

Obviously, you knew that wasn’t true. You knew that everyone had little things that bothered them and yours weren’t even especially unusual. You also knew that voicing these thoughts to Peter would likely lead to you being even more self-conscious and him being confused. Or even worse, him pitying you. You were snapped out of your spiral by Peter’s shifting in position. 

“What’re you thinking of, baby?” Peter whispered. To your horror, his hand started rubbing your stomach over your sweater. “I can practically see the steam coming out of your ears.” He laughed the way he does when trying to calm you down, like he doesn’t think it’s funny but it might be less intimidating if you believe he does. You turned your head to look at him. Being this close didn’t allow you to see his full face, but you could see one of his pretty brown eyes, looking at you with far too much love for your heart to handle.

“Not thinking of anythin’ really.” You kept your voice as even as possible and hoped he didn’t hear the nervous hitch in your breath as he reached under the hem of your sweatshirt to touch your skin. You panicked and tried to cover by grabbing his hand in yours and holding it between your ribs, right under your chest. He looked confused but still stroked your hand with his thumb.

“Yeah okay.” He was sarcastic and rolling his eyes but his voice was still light. He brought your joined hands up to kiss the veins on your wrist, closing his eyes and letting his lips linger for a good few seconds. All while still burning his eyes over your face, letting his pupils linger over a feature before jumping to the next, admiring your whole face with so much care you would cry. 

“What?” You asked, growing shy under his intense stare. 

“You’re so pretty, baby.” He was still smiling at you like a fool. “So so pretty.” He sing-songed. He urged you to lay on top of him with his arms, but you held fast in your place. Your boyfriend apparently took this as a challenge, because he showed off his real strength by pulling you fast onto his chest. 

“Peter!” You said, scolding and nervous and flustered all at once. 

“What?” He asked smugly, with a look of triumph on his face. You ducked your head out of his eyesight. “Baby, what’s up?” He asked again, more sincere. You still didn’t answer, your anxiety was roaring too loud in your head. You were probably crushing him under your weight. His hands were planted on your hips, likely feeling the extra fat and getting grossed out. He was just too nice to say anything. He was also too far close to your face for comfort, definitely seeing patches of oily skin or blemishes littering your face. It all became too much for you and you tried to roll off of him, but he gripped onto you harder. 

“Peter, let me off.” You kept your voice light but you were panicking inside. 

“Yeah, not happening.” He stayed stubborn as a mule. 

“But I’m heavy, I’ll crush you.” You said desperately. 

“Good.” He rebutted, still acting as if this was a casual conversation. 

“Peter, I’m serious. I’m too heavy for this. You’re going to hurt yourself.” Your voice trailed off, getting quieter towards the end. The whole sentence was soaked in shame that Peter hadn’t yet picked up on. Now, there was a concerned crease between his eyebrows. 

“Huh?” He looked genuinely confused. “What put that dumb idea in your head? ‘Too heavy’ for what, exactly?” He started as if he was about to rant, but cut it short. To your dismay, he pulled more of your weight onto him. 

“It’s not dumb, it’s true. I’m just too heavy” You argued back. He couldn’t really be that oblivious. Anyone with eyes could see it. 

“Oh I’m sorry,” He started sassing, like he actually wasn’t sorry at all. “I didn’t know that you now were the only deciding judge of something being ‘too much.’” He was being defiant on purpose. 

“Peter, please.” All joking and argumentativeness had left your tone, just leaving shame and sadness. Peter softened at this and encouraged your head up to meet his eyes, holding your jaw firmly so you couldn’t look away. He looked like he was slowly putting pieces together in his head. 

“Baby,” He started, still not breaking eye contact with you. “Is this why you’ve not been letting me touch you as much?” Peter looked so sad, it didn’t suit him at all and you wanted to make it better immediately. “Do you think there’s something wrong with you, that I would think there’s something wrong with you?” On the last sentence he was extra distressed, like he couldn’t believe the words were leaving his mouth. 

“I just-” You were trying to articulate your feelings without making this any worse. “I mean, not every part of me is pretty, you know that.” You tried to say it casually but Peter’s expression didn’t lighten at all. Instead, his bottom lip jutted out and his eyes got wider, looking like a cartoonishly sad puppy who was denied a treat. 

“I don’t know that, actually.” He moved his hand to the back of your head, threading his fingers in your hair. “You don’t think you’re pretty?” He said the last part like his heart was cracking. And in Peter’s mind, it was. His baby was thinking badly of herself, and even worse, she was thinking he thought badly of her. 

“I mean,” You cringed as the words left your mouth, wanting desperately for the conversation to end. “Not really. At least, there is a lot about me that could be a lot better.” Peter was at a loss for words. You had obviously mulled this over and were solid in your opinion. 

“I don’t think there is. I think you are perfect. I love everything about you.” He said softly, his voice missing its usual teasing tone.

“But-” You started, but cut yourself off. 

“But what?” Your argumentative boyfriend was back. “C’mon. Talk to me, baby.”

“I just-” You gathered your thoughts as best you could. He was really being difficult. There was no way he hadn’t noticed something. You also really did not want to say your insecurities out loud. It was too raw. But you knew Peter, and he wouldn’t back off without you giving something. “My stomach isn’t flat.” You said, as if that was enough argument for you being disgusting. 

“Okay?” He actually laughed at this, eyebrows scrunched in confusion. “And?” 

You rolled your eyes, irritated. “And, in general I’m just too big. And my skin isn’t good either. It just doesn’t all add up very well does it?” You resisted the urge to cry, you didn’t want to add that on top of this already stressful discussion. 

“Sweetheart,” He looked exasperated. “I think- I think you’re being really mean and unfair to yourself.” He searched for the right words. “Everyone has things about themselves they don’t like, yeah? But you should know, you are not too anything, and there is nothing about your looks or body that is ‘not good.’’ He said every word firmly. “And most importantly, there is nothing, absolutely nothing about your body that I dislike, or that you should worry about me seeing or touching, okay?” His voice was soft during the last few sentences, like he was speaking to a little kid with a scraped knee. It made it a lot harder to resist crying. “Okay?” he said, still looking directly into your eyes. 

“Okay.” You said, watery. You swallowed hard and buried your face in his chest, feeling all too many emotions. “Thank you, Pete.” You didn’t think you could say anything else without falling apart. 

“It’s okay. I'ts alright. It’s what I’m here for.” He stroked the back of your head, still being gentle. “Just do me a favor, yeah?” 

“Mhm?” You muffled.

“Just, make my job easier for me next time. Tell me when you’re feeling like this, okay baby?” He pleaded as he pressed a kiss to your hair. 

“Okay. I will.” 

“Good. Now cuddle me please.” Demanding Peter was back. “And put all your weight on me, it’s no good otherwise.” 

[txrully]

hii! I was wondering if i could request request a professional/upcoming volleyball player reader w blue lock boys?

thank you! do this whenever you free💕

ahhh tysm for your request anon!

actually my first time getting a request 🥹🩷

BLLK BOYS WITH A VOLLEYBALL PLAYER!

chars.: isagi yoichi, bachira meguru, chigiri hyoma, nagi seishiro, mikage reo, itoshi rin, hiori yo, shidou ryusei, itoshi sae, michael kaiser, alexis ness x gn!reader

( although reader is specified as fem in reo, shidou, and kaiser's parts.)

isagi yoichi

this man is obsessed with how you spike. like, borderline analysis mode every time you land a killer shot.

tries so hard to cheer you on during your games, but he’s also yelling tips from the sidelines like he’s your coach.

“nice spike, y/n!! BUT WATCH YOUR BACK LEFT—"

you once invited him to play volleyball, and he absolutely faceplanted while diving for the ball. his soccer instincts don’t always translate well.

lowkey jealous of how you dominate the court but 100% supportive—he’s your number-one fan, and he makes sure you know it.

bachira meguru

oh, he’s playing volleyball with you whether you like it or not.

turns every warmup into an opportunity to spike balls at you for fun.

“c’mon, y/n! block this one! oh, wait—oops, too fast?” giggles maniacally

definitely tries to incorporate soccer dribbling into volleyball. ( spoiler: it doesn’t work, but he thinks it’s hilarious )

somehow, he convinces you to play beach volleyball with him, and he dives into the sand just to make dramatic saves.

chigiri hyoma

he thinks volleyball is artistic—the way you move across the court? beautiful.

he’s not one for loud cheering, but his quiet, supportive claps when you win a point mean everything.

if you challenge him to play volleyball, he absolutely crushes it. His speed makes him terrifying at the net.

you might tease him for being too graceful, and he’ll shoot back with, “at least I don’t trip over my own feet, y/n.”

secretly memorizes your favorite post-game snacks and brings them to every match.

nagi seishiro

volleyball? too much effort. but watching you? sure, he can do that.

if you manage to drag him onto the court, he still dominates because his height makes him impossible to block. he doesn’t even try that hard, which makes it even more annoying.

“huh? i didn’t even jump that high…”

lowkey flexes how good he is when he wants to impress you though.

your games are one of the few things he’ll willingly stay awake for—he’s surprisingly proud when you win, even if he doesn’t say much.

mikage reo

treats your volleyball career like a business venture—he’s always hyping you up to sponsors and teams.

“did you know y/n scored 15 points last game? absolute MVP material.”

if you’re stressed about a big game, he’ll find a way to rent out a fancy gym for you to practice in.

when you win a match, he spoils you—dinner, gifts, whatever you want. you deserve it.

totally brags about you to the blue lock boys, claiming, “she could beat all of you on the court, no question.”

itoshi rin

at first, he doesn’t get why you’re so into volleyball—it’s not soccer, so why bother?

then he watches you play. big mistake. now he’s hooked. he won’t admit it, but he’s insanely proud when you dominate on the court.

refuses to join any friendly volleyball matches because he’s hyper-competitive and will lose it if he makes a mistake.

“volleyball isn’t even my sport, so why would I care if I mess up?”

( spoiler: he cares. a lot. )

secretly watches your games to pick apart your technique, then casually suggests improvements.

“you could be faster on your back-row defense.”

if someone mocks you during a game, rin’s death glare activates, and you have to hold him back from starting a fight.

hiori yo

he’s your calm and quiet supporter who loves the strategy of volleyball.

offers to help you study your opponents before big games and creates detailed notes about their playing styles.

if you’re feeling down after a tough match, hiori has the perfect playlist to cheer you up—it’s borderline magical.

you two bond over the mental aspect of sports, discussing how to stay focused under pressure.

lowkey amazing at volleyball when you play casually together. his precision makes him an insane setter, and he always puts the ball exactly where you need it.

your games are one of the few things he actively looks forward to, and he’s not shy about letting you know how proud he is of you.

shidou ryusei

this menace turns your volleyball practices into pure chaos. he spikes every ball like he’s trying to break the sound barrier.

“c’mon, y/n, don’t be scared! It’s just a little power spike!”

he has zero chill when watching your games.

he’s yelling from the stands, making the wildest comments, and hyping you up louder than anyone else.

“THAT’S MY GIRL! DESTROY THEM!!”

shidou’s energy is unmatched, and while it’s chaotic, it’s also incredibly motivating.

if anyone talks smack about your playing, they better run because shidou takes it personally.

itoshi sae

in the beginning, he acts indifferent—volleyball isn’t soccer, so why should he care?

but once he sees your precision and skill, his interest is piqued. he starts showing up to your games, claiming he’s “just passing by.”

he’s annoyingly good at volleyball when you play together. his smug smirk when he blocks your spikes is enough to make you want to scream.

“was that your best, y/n? try harder.”

despite his teasing, sae respects your dedication and often gives you genuine advice on handling pressure during big matches.

after a win, he’ll give you a subtle nod and say, “good job.”

( that’s basically a love confession coming from him. )

michael kaiser

volleyball? amateur sport. but you? an exception. he’s intrigued by how passionate you are about it.

always finds a way to make everything a competition—“i bet i’d be better at volleyball than you in a week.”

ends up eating his words when you destroy him during a friendly match. he’s so salty about it but tries to play it cool.

“i let you win. don’t get cocky, liebe.”

he calls you his “queen of the court” and insists on showing up to your games in the flashiest outfits, drawing attention everywhere.

secretly loves seeing you in your element and is constantly impressed, though he’ll only admit it in private.

alexis ness

the most polite and supportive fanboy you could ask for. he’s always clapping and smiling during your games.

if you’re nervous before a match, ness is the one calming you down with his soothing words and quiet confidence in you.

he’s surprisingly good at volleyball basics and helps you practice when you need a setter. his gentle encouragement makes training with him a joy.

“you’ve got this, y/n. i believe in you more than anyone.”

keeps a journal of your games where he writes down highlights and his favorite moments—it’s his way of showing how much he cares.

gets a little flustered when you thank him for his support but brushes it off with a shy smile.

© 𝘁𝘅𝗿𝘂𝗹𝗹𝘆 :: 𝟮𝟬𝟮𝟰

𝘥𝘰 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝘤𝘰𝘱𝘺, 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘴𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘦, 𝘳𝘦𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘵, 𝘰𝘳 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘨𝘪𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘻𝘦 𝘮𝘺 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬𝘴.

[the-obelisk]

Sparring with Mischief - Fae Collection

Loki x Reader

Summary: The one where Loki and you begin hand to hand combat training and it goes not go according to plan.

A/N: It has been a good while since my last post (oops!) but I come with a gift! I found this deep in my drafts just for you x

You sat on the benches chugging the water you held after attempting to join Steve on his daily run. The super solider jokingly expressed that you needed to work on your endurance after you last sparring match with him. And mistakenly, that translated as a challenge to you. 

So, you joined. 

However, after the first two miles you could feel your mouth water from sickness. Steve told you to take a break offering kind words of how you held up better than Sam did his first go around. You rolled your eyes at the defeat and promised you wanted another go at it the next morning.

Yet, as you sat on one of the benches outside of the compound’s training facility you began to deeply regret you promise. It would be a lie if you said you didn’t take every opportunity to learn from your fellow members. 

But in that moment, you were tired of learning and wanted to simply give up half-way through whatever they threw at you. 

“You are going to drown yourself, little one.” 

You turned your head to see Loki smiling down on you. He made a comment at your attempts to empty your water bottle in hopes to rejuvenate and replenish from the torture you were sure that Steve secretly found amusing to watch as you paced slowly alongside him. 

“I ran with Steve.” You muttered before continuing, “And I made the mistake of committing myself to another morning run tomorrow.” 

He smirked and sat next to you on the bench. “Now why would you go and do that?” You looked at him and inhaled. He spoke before you could answer, “Wait, let me guess. You internally assumed it as a challenge.”

Puckering your lips, you tilted your head and closed the cap of your water bottle. “I never back down.” 

“That you do not. So prideful.”

You laughed, “I like a good challenge and I didn’t know he ran like 13 million miles. For fun, I might add.” You emphasized the fun part causing him to chuckle. You noted his usual training attire and spoke once more, “Why are you not sparring?”

He smirked, “The assassin has been looking to rip my head off. It is a cute effort, but I have fought her before. It is not a challenge.”

You snorted knowing all too well that Natasha was highly competitive in her sparring matches. She took an easy on you simply because you were new, for him, it would be her opportunity to remind him that she could nail him down to the ground if she wanted. 

“So, no one else to spar with?” 

He shook his head. “Not at the moment.”

You looked at him and smirked once again, “Moments over. Let’s roll.” You stood up earning a questioning eye from him. “Roll? Roll where?” 

Rolling your eyes you shook your head, “Roll as in let’s go. I’ll be your sparring partner.” 

He looked at you with amusement before standing up and towering over you slightly, “Was it not just five minutes ago that you were breathing heavily and eating that bottle of yours?”

You took a step closer, “Is it not better than having Nat try to decapitate you? Plus, I can use my powers with you.” 

Loki smirked at you, noting the surge of confidence in you. Once again you had made it internally a competition. “No powers before you blow up something else. I will not defend you when Stark comes in all worked up over his Midgardian junk again.” 

You took a moment to scan his face noting his playful eyes. You knew he enjoyed your taunts in attempts to get a rise from him, but he remained cool and collected as usual with you. “Fine.” You  sighed. “But the tree was your idea.” 

“I know, I am still hearing it from his thoughts every time I pass by him.”

---

An hour later and you had seemed to get a grip on his fighting style. Unlike Sam or Bucky, he was more fluid with his movements. He preferred his right side to his left. You mentally thanked Natasha for teaching you the art of observation after she pinned you the first 50 times in your earlier weeks. 

“You will have to do better than that, dove. I am a god after all.” Loki taunted you during your match. 

The others threw pieces of advice or worked in complete silence but with Loki you two would somehow get involved in a banter of sorts before one of you made a move against the other. 

“Must be the god of being annoying.” You muttered under your breath.

He smirked and came towards you quickly. Dodging his attempt by moving to the right and spinning to your left, he caught your arm causing you to grunt. “You really suck, you know?” 

Loki shrugged, “Stop analyzing my movements and feel your movements.” 

“What does that even mean?” 

He let go of your arm and huffed, “I can hear your thoughts. And while knowing how your opposite will come to you and fight is good, in war it is not useful.”

You smiled, “But this isn’t war, Loki. It’s sparring.” 

“And you, my dove,” He leaned down to meet your eyes, “would be chewed up if you keep trying to analyze what may happen instead of feeling the motions of combat.” 

And it seemed before you had a chance to speak, he attempted to whisk you from your feet. However, already on guard, you jumped up at the sight of his leg and moved away before he advanced on you a second time. 

And there you both were fighting in silence and determination. He was surprised at how quick you had picked up on his movements, blocking and dodging his hits. That was until you proceeded to kick him in the abdomen and landed right in between his legs. 

You hands flew up to your mouth as he stumbled back in pain. “Oh my-- I’m so sorry.” You ran towards him still mortified as he attempted to walk it off. 

You watched as he inhaled deeply and smile painfully, “You are getting better, the clumsiness may even be your advantage.” 

“I meant to hit your stomach, not your-- well, you know. There.” You straightened your back and circled your hand on your own body referencing where your foot has landed. If he wasn’t still feeling the dull pain he would’ve mocked your innocent action.

He breathed in and smirked, “If I was mortal, you probably would have had me on the floor but--”

“I’m a god after all. Yeah we know.” You smiled at him as you lightly mocked at him and shrugged, “I’m still sorry.”

He shook his head and stepped closer, “You do not have to apologize to me, however, next time I will have you pinned down after that.” 

You nodded and smiled tightly, “Duly noted, Trickster.” 

Loki looked at you and smiled. You knew if anyone else had accidently kicked him like that he would have fought harder in retaliation, yet with you he refrained. You weren’t entirely sure if it was because you may be his only friend here or because like everyone else, you were being babied. 

The man before you trained his eyes on you and soon, sighed, “Yes, we can stop and eat.” 

Your mouth dropped, “Did you just read my thoughts?” Loki smirked with his back turned to you as he jumped off the training platform.

He shrugged and offered his hand to help you jump down as well. You spoke once again, “I thought we weren’t allowed to peer into each other’s minds?”

“No, you are not allowed. I have thousands of years of knowledge you are not allowed to know of.” 

“What is it? Top secret?” 

He chuckled and handed you your water bottle before walking out alongside you towards the kitchen, “They are not thoughts of this Midgardian waffle fries you keep thinking about for the last half hour.” 

You nodded knowing he was extremely guarded in his thoughts so you decided to allow him to deflect. “It’s okay. I know you want me to share my fries with you.”

Loki quirked his eyebrow and refuted, “Yes, because it is the only thing I have been thinking about all day.” 

“Don’t mock me.” You stated as the two of you passed the others in the common room and walked down the corridor. 

[mattrempeswife]

A SURPRISE CAMEO

matt rempe x fem! reader

synopsis: you’re a fun, happy mom who’s been raising a three-year-old boy, William Rempe, with your long-time partner, hockey player Matt Rempe. William, with his adorable brunette curls that match Matt’s, has been kept out of the spotlight to protect his privacy. But when you visit Matt’s sister, Alley, she films a TikTok video featuring William, marking his first public appearance. With your approval, the video is posted, sending shockwaves through Matt’s fanbase, who are seeing his son for the first time. The fan response is overwhelming, and you, Matt, and William must navigate the excitement while maintaining your family’s boundaries.

warning(s): contains themes of privacy invasion, social media attention, and navigating fame as a family.

“Mommy, look! I did it!” William’s voice rang out through Alley’s apartment, his face lighting up with pride as he held up the completed puzzle for you to see. His brunette curls bounced as he hopped in place, his energy boundless as always.

You beamed and clapped your hands. “That’s amazing, buddy! You’re getting so good at these!” You bent down and gave him a big hug, ruffling his curly hair with affection. Being William’s mom was the greatest joy of your life, and you always tried to make his world as fun and exciting as possible. He was an energetic little boy with Matt’s brown hair and a smile that melted your heart every time.

Matt grinned from the kitchen, where he was teasing Alley about her cooking. “Looks like someone’s a puzzle master just like his mom,” he joked, his deep voice filled with pride as he watched you and William.

“Oh please, don’t let him get my brain,” you teased back, laughing as William giggled and squirmed in your arms. “Let’s hope he gets your skills on the ice instead.”

Alley suddenly turned to you with an idea sparkling in her eyes. “Hey! What do you think about William making his TikTok debut today? We could do something cute, like a dance challenge. I bet your followers would love it,” she suggested, glancing at her phone.

You laughed, shaking your head, “Oh, Alley, I don’t know… You know we’ve been keeping William off the internet. But…” You looked down at your son, who was now looking up at you with wide, excited eyes.

“Can I, Mommy? Can I be in Auntie’s video?” he asked, his little voice filled with excitement.

You hesitated, but seeing the happiness on his face made you soften. You and Matt had always kept William private, wanting him to live as normal a life as possible. But this was different—this was fun, lighthearted, and most importantly, something William wanted to do.

You looked over at Matt, who gave you a reassuring smile. “It’s up to you,” he said, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind. “I’m okay with it if you are. Besides, it might be nice for everyone to finally meet the little guy.”

You sighed, but it was hard not to smile. “Alright,” you said, looking down at William’s hopeful face. “Let’s do it. But just this once, okay? No pressure.”

William jumped up and down, cheering, “Yay! I’m gonna be in Auntie’s video!”

The living room became the perfect stage as Alley positioned her phone to capture the dance. You, Matt, and William were all laughing as Alley led William through the simple steps. He wasn’t the best dancer—his little feet stumbled a few times—but his enthusiasm more than made up for it. His adorable curls bounced as he followed Auntie Alley’s lead, throwing his hands in the air and kicking his legs in every direction.

You watched with pure joy, cheering him on. “That’s it, baby! You’re killing it!” you said, clapping along and even jumping in for a few steps to dance beside him.

William squealed with laughter, especially when Matt joined in, towering over everyone with his goofy dance moves. For a big, tough hockey player, Matt didn’t have much rhythm, but it was all in good fun, and you loved seeing him let loose with William.

After a few takes—and lots of laughter—Alley stopped the recording and began editing the video. She added some fun music and a couple of silly filters, giving it a playful feel. “Alright, I think we’ve got it!” she announced proudly. “You guys ready to see this masterpiece?”

The final result was a thirty-second clip of William and Alley dancing, with you and Matt jumping in halfway through to make it a full family affair. The video was sweet, innocent, and filled with pure joy.

“Okay, here we go,” Alley said, fingers hovering over the ‘post’ button. “Are we ready for William’s big debut?”

You glanced at Matt, who nodded encouragingly. “Let’s do it,” you said, smiling.

Alley hit post, and within seconds, the video was live.

At first, nothing seemed unusual. The video got its normal number of likes and comments from Alley’s followers. But about an hour later, things started to snowball. Alley refreshed her TikTok and gasped. “Oh my God, it’s going viral.”

Matt leaned over her shoulder. “Already?”

You hurried over, heart pounding as you saw the video’s view count skyrocket. Comments were flooding in, faster than you could read them.

“Oh no,” you said, feeling a wave of anxiety. “They’ve noticed it’s William, haven’t they?”

“Yep,” Alley said, her eyes wide. “They definitely have.”

Comments on the TikTok Video:

@HockeyFanForLife: Is that Matt Rempe’s kid?!?! William is so freaking cute!

@RempeSuperFan: OMG William looks JUST like Matt 😍 Those curls! I had no idea he even had a son!

@HockeyMomma25: Finally seeing William after all this time! What a cutie! And you’re such a fun mom 🥰.

@PuckLover4Life: Matt and William dancing together? My heart can’t take it!

@NHL_Legend88: I respect Matt and [Your Name] so much for keeping William private for so long, but this video is EVERYTHING.

@RempeNHLFandom: I think this is the first time we’ve ever seen William Rempe! He’s adorable! Great job, Mom and Dad!

Your phone buzzed with notifications as fans on Twitter caught wind of the video.

Fan Twitter Post:

Ami (Matt’s version)

@RempeArmy

BREAKING NEWS: Matt Rempe’s son, William, just made his first public appearance in his sister Alley’s TikTok video!! Everyone, meet the cutest little future hockey player 🏒🥰.

#MattRempe #RempeFamily #WilliamRempe #NHL #HockeyDad

Comments from Twitter:

@PuckFever15: William Rempe just BROKE the internet. His curls!! He’s so much like his dad 😍.

@IceQueen92: I love how fun this family is! You can tell Y/N is such a fun mom, and William’s got the best dad ever. I’m melting!

@GoalieGirl87: Seeing Matt, Y/N, and William dancing together is honestly the cutest thing I’ve ever seen. Can we get more Rempe family content??

@FanOfTheIce: Okay, but can we talk about how Y/N is like the coolest mom ever?? William is so lucky to have a fun family like this.

You couldn’t believe how quickly things were escalating. The video was everywhere—TikTok, Twitter, even Instagram as fan accounts started sharing clips. While the comments were overwhelmingly positive, you couldn’t shake the feeling of nervousness creeping in. You had wanted to keep William out of the public eye for so long, and now it felt like the floodgates had opened.

Matt must have sensed your tension because he wrapped an arm around you, pulling you close. “Hey, it’s okay. The fans are loving it, and so far, no one’s being invasive. We’ll keep it light, like this video. If we don’t want William to be in more stuff, we don’t have to.”

You nodded, feeling his calm energy wash over you. “Yeah… I just didn’t expect this much attention so fast.”

“It was bound to happen eventually,” Matt said softly. “But we’ll control what happens next. William’s happiness comes first, and we’ll protect that.”

You smiled up at him, feeling reassured. Matt had always been your rock, and you knew he would never let the craziness of his career overshadow your family’s happiness.

Later that night, as the three of you cuddled on the couch that night, William snuggled between you and Matt with his head resting on your lap, you couldn’t help but smile. He had no idea that he’d just become an internet sensation, and you were perfectly fine with that. For him, it had been just another fun day spent dancing with Auntie Alley.

“Did you have fun today, baby?” you asked, brushing a hand through his curly hair.

“Yeah,” William murmured sleepily, his voice soft. “I liked dancing with Auntie and Daddy. Can we do it again?”

You laughed quietly, your heart swelling with love for this little boy. “Maybe someday, sweetie. For now, it’s bedtime.”

As Matt tucked him into bed, you felt a sense of peace settle over you. Fame, social media, and fan attention could all wait. Right now, you were just a family, and that was all that mattered.

want another part? or a series, let me know!!

————

like, reblog and feedback are very much appreciated. follow for more fanfiction!!

[the-scarlet-witch-22]

The Lark Ascending (A Chaconne Story): Chapter 3 (Agatha Harkness x Reader)

Summary: Being a rising soloist isn't all it's cracked up to be as you face new challenges, all while encountering Agatha Harkness at every turn.

Word Count: 6.4k

A/N: Helloooo welcome to chapter 3! This chapter briefly deals with/mentions imposter syndrome & performance anxiety, so if either of those topics make you uncomfortable you have been warned. The piece mentioned in this chapter is Gluck's Melodie, from Orfeo ed Eurdice :) As always, thank you for reading & I hope you enjoy! Feel free to let me know what you think, my asks are always open!

Previous Chapter

There were few things in life that brought you as much peace as playing your violin. Taking a few hours to tune out the rest of the world and solely focus on your instrument was the fastest relief to whatever stressors were occurring. Unfortunately, that tranquility had all but vanished as of late- much to your dismay. But you tried to put it out of your mind- your week had been a blur of rehearsals, interviews, and press engagements to kick off the summer concert season, and this morning was no different. Before this evening’s big Donor’s Gala you would be leading a Master Class with promising young musicians in the area. 

Getting out of the car, you took off your sunglasses, squinting as your eyes adjusted to the glaring sunlight. This morning’s temperature was significantly warmer than you anticipated, and you found yourself melting by the time you made it inside the symphony building. Setting your violin case on the ground, you allowed the AC to wash over you, while making a mental note to remember to bring a water bottle in the future as you had been forgetting all week. It was early enough the building was nearly deserted, or at least you thought so as you relaxed in the air conditioning. 

“Still getting used to the LA heat, dear?” 

Your heart nearly stopped in your chest as you dropped your keys. Whipping your head around, you were unsurprised to find Agatha staring back at you, amusement coloring her features. The conductor appeared to have entered the building right after you did, black sunglasses in one hand and her bag hanging off her shoulder. 

While you looked like you were about to fall over, Agatha looked as put together as she always did, seemingly unaffected from the scorching temperatures. 

“Agatha,” you breathed out, slowly regaining your composure as you gave the conductor a quick once over, the gears turning in your head. Symphony rehearsal wasn’t until the early afternoon, she was awfully early. “What are you doing here?”

“I’d assume the same reason as you; the Master Class,” Agatha pointed out before motioning to your keys that were still on the ground. “You might want to pick those up, it would be a shame if you lost them.”

Letting out an exasperated sigh, you reached down to pick them up, feeling Agatha’s gaze remain on you. “Last time I checked, I was running this class alone.”

“Clerical error.”  Agatha insisted, carefully putting her sunglasses in her bag, before adding, “I’m sure someone was supposed to tell you I’d be joining you.”

“I’m sure.” You mused, thinking about how often this had been occurring as of late.

At first you didn’t think too much of Agatha’s unannounced appearances, because her explanations seemed logical enough at the time. When she dropped in on your interviews for your Artist in Residence with the LA Symphony, she claimed getting her interview done at the same time would be more efficient. During a meeting for PR, she rationalized needing to give her final approval as the orchestra’s music director. Even your late night practice sessions weren’t safe, as they almost always ended with the conductor sneaking up on you, her cackle echoing through the empty hall as you wondered if she was trying to kill you.

But the more she popped up, the more you wondered if her actions were as altruistic as she claimed them to be.

“Shall we?” Agatha prompted before taking off down the hallway, leaving you no choice but to follow her. 

Walking in silence through the deserted building, you thought of possible conversation starters, and were stumped. As comfortable as you still felt around Agatha, it had been a long time since you’d been around her this frequently. 

As if she could sense your hesitation, she gave you an inquisitive stare. “Stark tells me you’ll be gracing us with a performance this evening.”

“It’s just a little something,” you replied nonchalantly, ignoring the sinking feeling in your chest at the reminder, opening the stage door for the conductor. “Anything to help the orchestra.”

Agatha smirked, her hand grazing your shoulder as she brushed past you. “How chivalrous.”

Clearing your throat, ignoring the rush of butterflies from her brief touch, you changed the subject, as this was one of the few times you had been alone with Agatha all week. “So how have things been with the MSO?”

“Oh you know,” Agatha hummed, switching on the stage lights, “I’ve overseen a few personnel changes, but nothing else, really.”

“Personnel changes?” You questioned, wondering why she was being so vague while trying to recall if Monica had mentioned anything to you.

Agatha raised her eyebrows, appearing genuinely curious. “You haven’t heard?”

Before you could ask what she meant, one of the staff members came backstage, informing you the class would be starting in ten minutes. 

Agatha started to walk out, but when she noticed you hadn’t moved she cocked her head to the side. “You’re not going to make me endure this on my own, are you?”

A small smile graced your lips at her jest. “Promise me you’ll be nice, they’re just kids.”

“I have no issues with the children,” Agatha insisted. “Their parents, on the other hand…”

“Not a fan of the hovering parent?” You joked, joining her onstage, the bright lights shining down on you.

Agatha frowned, a dark look in her eyes as she mulled over your words. “Not quite, no.”

The conductor set off down the stairs without another word, taking a seat in the front row, carelessly setting her bag down with a loud thump. 

During your time together Agatha never mentioned much about her childhood, and you were never brave enough to ask. You knew from a few Google searches that her mother had been a rather well known concert pianist, but that was about it. Agatha had always been guarded, and as much as you tried to peel back the many layers that she used as self defense, you hadn’t managed to get through them all.

Taking a seat next to her, you checked the time to find there were a few minutes until you began. The sound of Agatha rustling through her bag was mere background noise as you scrolled through your phone. It wasn’t until you felt something cold against your arm did you notice a reusable water bottle was now resting on the armrest of your seat. 

“What’s this?” 

“You’re going to end up passing out on stage from dehydration.” Agatha said disapprovingly, her thick black frame glasses hanging low on the bridge of her nose as her head was tilted down, reading an updated copy of the Master Class schedule. 

“I could have brought my own water,” you insisted, trying to ignore how touched you were by the thoughtful gesture.

The conductor folded the piece of paper she had been reading, adjusting her glasses as she gave you a pointed look. “I’ve watched you prance around like a parched baby deer all week, the last thing I need is for you to fall and break your violin.”

“Just my violin?” 

Agatha pursed her lips, blue eyes twinkling as she evaded your question. “A simple thank you would suffice, dear.” 

The weight of her gaze was nearly too much for you to bear, for you found it to be far more exposing than the brightest of stage lights, but you were unable to look away. Agatha’s fingers grasped the bottle, extending her arm until it was hovering over your legs. 

The conductor looked at you expectantly, and you had never been one to deny her anything. 

Lifting your hand, you accepted the bottle, fingers crossing hers as you held it in your palm. 

“Thank you, Maestra,” you said, watching Agatha’s eyes drift to your intertwined fingers, neither of you moving from the contact.

Agatha lowly hummed, untangling her fingers from yours as her hand came to rest on your upper thigh. Neither of you spoke, but for once the silence felt less suffocating, allowing you to reminisce on a time where this had been normal. Closing your eyes, you wished you could stay this way forever.

The sound of voices outside the hall grew in volume, zapping you back to reality. Clearing her throat, Agatha gave your leg a gentle squeeze before letting go, and you poorly tried to hide your disappointment. 

“Try to remember to drink that,” Agatha murmured as she stood up, and after a moment added, “I don’t want you to get hurt before the concert season begins.”

You weren’t sure why the confirmation that she still cared hit you as hard as it did, but you couldn’t keep the smile off your face for the entire Master Class. Agatha kept true to her word, and was on her best behavior. You only remembered halfway through the class how good she was with children, as the faint memory of the school concert day she once planned rang through clear as day. 

She was still Agatha, of course. Her sarcasm and quick witted sense of humor could never be diminished, but she softened ever so slightly when offering advice after each musician performed. Her constructive criticism actually was constructive, and you were reminded how gifted of a teacher she was. 

You did have to reign her in when a few overzealous parents insisted on voicing their own opinions, but overall you were pleased with the turnout.

It was surreal in a way, being in this new position. When you were younger your dream was to be a professional violinist, and it often felt as if that was the only thing you had ever been fully certain of. But you had been having a hard time finding your own way; to be able to fully accept that you had earned this. To believe that you were worthy. Looking at someone as astonishingly accomplished as Agatha Harkness, you couldn’t help but feel like a fraud.

It felt like a facade the majority of the time, your violin acting as your mask on stage, effectively shielding all of your doubts to the outside world. But it was difficult to present that version of yourself when you were standing next to Agatha, for you found yourself falling back in time to when you were nothing more than her assistant. Naturally leading you to wonder if the conductor still saw you in that imbalanced light, or if she could ever view you as her equal. 

Once the last of the students left you lingered onstage, discreetly watching Agatha. The conductor was leaning against the grand piano, one hand perched on the edge while she scrolled through her phone. 

“I can feel you staring,” Agatha called out, not looking up from whatever she was doing. 

“I’m not staring,” you lied, clearing your throat as you took a step towards her. “Is everything alright?”

“Hm?” Agatha asked, finally glancing up at you. When you motioned to her phone, she arched an eyebrow. “Jealous I’m not giving you all of my attention?”

Spluttering, you shot her an indignant glare. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

Placing her phone on the piano, the conductor crossed her arms across her chest, smirking as she took a small step forward, invading all of your senses. “If you must know, I was going over tonight’s performance with the concertmaster, she had a few questions.”

It was then that you recalled last week’s symphony rehearsal, where you witnessed what you felt had been rather visible tension between Agatha and the concertmaster, Hela. Your stomach began twisting in uncomfortable knots at the memory, while you were forced to consider why the thought of Agatha being with someone else made you feel sick. 

“Hela, right?” You asked, careful to keep any trace of the growing pit of anxiety from your tone. 

“That’s right,” Agatha confirmed, an inscrutable expression on her face as she regarded you. “I’ve known her for quite some time. Her brother is the new CFO of the symphony.”

All thoughts of Hela were pushed to the back of your mind. Your eyes widened, unable to contain your surprise. “What? Where’s Hayward?” 

“In prison,” Agatha replied casually. “Well, I'll take that back. He’s supposed to be in prison, but I’m sure he was able to get a reduced sentence. The woes of the wealthy white man.” 

“Prison?”

“For fraud and embezzlement of all things,” Agatha shared conspiratorially, leaning in closer as she whispered, “I must say, it was quite a scandal. Still a bit of a mystery as to who tipped off the feds.”

The smug expression on her face was a dead giveaway, as Agatha had never been subtle. 

The sigh left your mouth before you could stop it, lips curling downwards to form a frown. “Tell me you didn’t…” 

“That I didn’t do what, dear? Uphold my duty to rid my orchestra of a bloodsucking leech?” Agatha countered, pacing around as she clasped her hands behind her back. 

“But prison, Agatha? Really?” 

The stage creaked with every step the conductor took, finally stopping when she stood directly behind you. 

“If I remember correctly you were never fond of him either,” Agatha pointed out, her breath hot against your ear as you let out an involuntary shiver from the pleasurable sensation. 

“I wasn’t,” you admitted truthfully, as Hayward had been a major thorn in both your and Agatha’s sides throughout the entirety of your time with the MSO. 

“Besides, I didn’t make him do anything. He was guilty,” Agatha said honestly, and although you weren’t looking at her you knew she was telling you the truth. Embellishments and dramatics aside, she had never lied to you. “I merely sped up the process of justice being served.”

Allowing the conductor’s words to wash over you, there was a pause as you decided to change the subject. “So, Hela’s brother?” 

“He’s business oriented like Hayward, but far more cunning. A lot more clever, as well. He’s also not actively attempting to sabotage me, so I’ve had more free time,” Agatha explained, and you then remembered what Monica had mentioned of Agatha being absent a lot this past season. 

“I’m sure you’ve been awfully bored,” you replied, your brain fixating on Hela and if there was any correlation between her absences and a potential relationship with the concertmaster.

“I’ve found…ways to keep myself busy,” Agatha delicately responded, taking a small step back. 

Turning around, you gave her a curious glance. “Really? Have you been doing anything interesting?”

“This and that,” Agatha vaguely offered, folding her hands across her chest. 

Deciding to test your luck, you took a step towards her. “I’m sure you’ve been doing something worth mentioning. Any traveling?”

Narrowing her eyes, Agatha scanned yours, deep blue orbs searching for something unknown as she appeared to contemplate your question. “Can't say I’ve had time for any vacations while I’m running an orchestra.”

“Of course,” you agreed, pondering over Agatha’s words while coming to the realization that either Monica misspoke or Agatha, for the first time, had potentially lied to you. But why? 

Taking your silence as an opportunity to strike, Agatha raised her right hand, index finger contemplatively tapping against her cheek as she observed you. “Quite nosey today, aren’t we?”

“I think a good musician should always try to be curious,” you weakly said, wondering why Agatha was being so secretive.

The conductor snorted, “I almost forgot how meddlesome violinists are as a species.”

Ignoring the dig, you approached her for a final time. There was so much you wanted to say, to ask, but you weren’t sure where to begin as the words kept getting caught in your throat.

“I know it’s been a long time,” you started to say, as this was the first time you had addressed the elephant in the room. “But I’d like to believe that after everything we’re friends, right?”

The words burned your tongue, but you ignored the unpleasant feeling. You and Agatha were friends, sort of, right?

Agatha stiffened at your words, and for a moment you allowed yourself to believe you saw a flicker of displeasure cross her features. But, as quickly as it appeared, it vanished. An uneasy silence fell between you, and even though Agatha was mere steps away it felt as though an  ocean separated you. 

“Yes, dear,” Agatha finally answered, voice uncharacteristically soft. “We’re friends.”

The sound of your phone dinging caught your attention, as you gave Agatha an apologetic smile. “I should probably check that. I’ll see you tonight?”

“Seven o’clock sharp,” Agatha reminded you as she traipsed across the stage, pulling her phone back out. “Don’t be late.” 

The best way to prepare the day of a performance was to get plenty of rest and stay hydrated. There typically wasn’t enough time to make any major changes to whatever piece you were performing, so hours of practicing was both unnecessary and a waste of energy. Lacking something to do with your hands, you instead spent the hours leading up to the gala in a fretful state. This had been occurring more frequently with each new performance you took on. It didn’t matter the size of nature of the event, the self-doubt you normally could keep at bay had fully taken over.

While your violin had once been your safe haven, an escape from reality, it was now slowly turning into an anxiety fueled nightmare. Lately nothing you did felt right. Every bow change was jerky, each shift of your fingers ending flat. Your vibrato was too fast, but then too slow. Nothing was good enough, and the more you attempted to fix it the worse it became.

Burdened as you were, how you ended up at the gala on time was a mystery, but you skillfully avoided the majority of the orchestra’s donors as you slipped backstage. Tony had managed to deliver everything he promised; a beautifully decorated ballroom with a room full of wealthy donors who had come to be entertained for an evening. 

Part of that entertainment including you, your brain reminded you, as you watched the ending of the orchestra’s performance of Danzón No, 2, Agatha’s hands cutting them off with a dramatic flourish of her baton. The room erupted in thunderous applause, and you forced yourself to look away as Agatha shook Hela’s hand before she exited the stage.

Greeting a few members of the orchestra who passed you, a cold sweat dripped down your back as you listened to Tony ramble on stage about reaching record high donations and how the night wasn’t over yet. You had to physically stop yourself from hearing his speech on the “treat” the audience was in for with the last performance; your performance. It didn’t feel right, receiving this praise, not when you could barely make it through the relatively easy piece of music you had selected for this evening. 

“You’re on as soon as Tony is done,” Pepper reminded you as she walked past with her tablet, most likely tracking the incoming donations.

The rushing sound of blood filled your ears as you stiffened, hands feeling clammy as you struggled to hold onto your violin. While you were no stranger to pre-performance jitters, this was one of the worst experiences you had with it yet, the room beginning to spin as you closed your eyes. 

You couldn’t do this, you couldn’t go on with the way you had been sounding all day. 

Maybe you could pretend to faint, or be ill. The latter wouldn’t be too much of a lie with the way your stomach was churning at the mere thought of walking out on that stage.

There was a light touch on your shoulder, and you thought you heard someone saying something but it was hard to hear anything over your heart pounding in your chest. 

“Darling?”

Agatha’s voice managed to cut through, and you felt her hand on your shoulder rub circles as you managed to take a shaky breath, slowly opening your eyes. 

The conductor was hovering over you, concern etched on her face. You hadn’t felt her grab your violin and bow, but both were safely stashed on a table to your right. The room was far too bright, and your body far too hot as you squirmed. 

“Are you alright?” Agatha asked quietly. “Do you need me to get you anything?”

You briefly noticed the backstage area was mostly cleared, a stark contrast to the crowded flow of musicians that were there mere seconds ago, but you paid that no mind. 

“I know I need to go out there, but I don’t think I can,” you said, trying your best to breathe but the rapid tightening of your chest making it difficult to form complete sentences.

Narrowing her eyes, Agatha stepped away for a moment, grabbing a nervous looking stagehand and saying something incoherent to them before they hurried off. The conductor was back at your side, now holding a bottle of water as she opened it, handing it to you.

“Drink,” she gently urged you, and upon noticing your reluctance she sighed. “I know you don’t want to, but drink.”

Taking a small sip, you struggled to swallow, the cold liquid acting as a shock to your system.

“Good girl,” Agatha murmured, rubbing your back for a moment before pulling away. “Now, I need you to listen to me. Do you trust me?”

Your heart felt like it was about to give out, and the room was moving at such a rapid pace you had difficulty standing. There was almost nothing you were certain of, but the one thing that you had never truly doubted was your faith in Agatha. 

You barely recognized the sound of your voice as you let out a meek yes. 

“Stark is out there stalling,” Agatha explained, and it appeared she was actively refraining from rolling her eyes. “But he can’t stay out there forever, otherwise we might start to lose the money we’ve already raised.”

The tightness in your chest was gradually relenting, and you were able to breathe with more ease. “I’ll be fine to perform, I just need a minute.”

The conductor rolled her eyes at your comment. “A heroic offer, dear, but you’re not going out there alone. I’m going to perform with you. That little stagehand ran off to grab the sheet music. I’ve performed Gluck before, but it’s been a while.”

That managed to get your attention, and you stared at her in shock. Agatha almost always refused to perform the piano, and had only played for you once. Despite being considered one of the most gifted pianists of her generation, the conductor had not performed publicly in decades.

“You’re going to perform with me?” 

Rolling her eyes again, the conductor gave you shoulder another squeeze. “You have heard of a duet before, haven’t you?”

The room stopped spinning, and you were able to open your mouth without feeling the need to vomit. Managing to give her a weak smile, the conductor nodded, handing you back your violin. The nerves were still there, but now Agatha was standing beside you as she instructed the same stagehand on how she wanted the piano positioned and you no longer felt like you were drowning. 

Tony must have received the okay from Pepper to wrap up as he transitioned out of his long speech.

“Now, I know I’ve promised all of you a performance from our current Artist in Residence, but this is a special evening, isn’t it? I’m thrilled to announce she will be joined by the incredible, incomparable, Agatha Harkness. The Maestra will be putting down her baton to give all of you her first public piano performance in years.”

Agatha’s jaw clenched at that, but when she found you staring she gave you a reassuring nod.

There was more applause, and Tony jubilantly exited the stage, wishing you both good luck as he went to converse with Pepper. 

“Just focus on me,” Agatha whispered in your ear before you walked out together, the applause deafening as she strolled over to the piano, taking a seat as she stretched her fingers out over the keys.

Positioning yourself to where you could see her in your line of vision, you planted your feet firmly on the ground. Raising your violin, you set your bow on the string, trying to ignore the unsteady feeling threatening to rise yet again.

Agatha’s finger pressed down on one of the keys, playing an A to allow you to tune your violin. Rolling your bow, you checked each string until you were satisfied, giving Agatha a discreet nod that you were ready to begin. 

Locking eyes with Agatha, you raised your violin on an upbeat to cue her in. The second her fingers hit the keys, you were able to pretend there was no one else there, only the two of you. Moving through each measure, you focused on the notes you had memorized, and for the first time today it didn’t feel overwhelming. Your vibrato rang through with every note, and the sound didn’t make you want to throw your violin in a woodchipper.

Agatha was a sight to behold, hair carelessly thrown over her shoulders, sitting on the edge of the bench as she slightly slouched over, fingers dancing across the keys. Although she claimed she needed the music, you couldn’t help but notice she had barely glanced at it once, her focus on you. There was something so magical about watching her at the piano, even the simplest chord she played produced the most exquisite sound.

Melodie was a piece originally from the opera Orfeo ed Euridice. It had later been transcribed by Fritz Kreisler for piano and violin. It was a dance between the two instruments, with the violin line singing over the piano accompaniment. It was both beautiful and heartbreaking, and was a rather accurate representation of your emotional state as of late. 

The hesitation you had been feeling now gone as you allowed yourself to relax, focusing on growing every phrase as you and Agatha played off each other. It was funny, you had never rehearsed this with the conductor, but you played perfectly in sync. Every breath you let out Agatha inhaled as you watched her lithe fingers stretch across the instrument to form various chord progressions. 

As you entered the final phrase, your fingers delicately shifted down the fingerboard as you hit your last note, slowing the speed of your bow, and extending your vibrato as Agatha leisurely played her final chords until the noise died away. 

Holding still, you finally released, and as you lowered your violin there was tumultuous applause from the crowd, but all you noticed was Agatha looking at you in a way you had never seen before. 

The moment was over all too soon as Tony came back on stage, insisting you and Agatha receive a standing ovation as he gleefully announced that tonight’s gala produced an all time high number of donations. Agatha rolled her eyes discreetly at you, but you noticed how pleased she appeared. 

You were swarmed by enthusiastic donors, and Agatha wasn’t faring much better. The conductor made sure you were able to put your violin away before Pepper had swooped in, insisting you take pictures.

Agatha sought you out long after the crowd dwindled, a glass of wine in each of her hands.

“Penny for your thoughts?” The conductor asked, offering you one of the glasses. 

Quietly thanking her, you accepted the wine, taking a small sip, the alcohol swirling around your tongue and you turned to her in surprise as you swallowed. “Pinot Noir?”

“Your favorite, if I recall correctly,” Agatha politely remarked. 

“That’s right,” you confirmed, taking another small sip before lowering your glass. “Thank you, for earlier. I’m sure you’re tired of saving me.”

Agatha’s lips curled downwards, her eyebrows creasing as she gave you an unreadable expression, as if she hadn’t witnessed your earlier anxiety attack. “I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean.”

“I don’t think I could have gone out there on my own,” you admitted, the truth a bitter embarrassment. “I’ve been having trouble with my confidence lately.” You motioned to the now empty space and stage. “With all of this, it's just getting worse.”

Nervously biting your lip, you half expected for Agatha to crack an off-hand, witty comment on how obvious that was given your backstage freak out, but the conductor set her wine glass down, giving you her full attention.

“Go on.”

“I…” 

Pausing, you came to the stark realization you had never shared this with anyone out of fear of being judged. But then you looked at Agatha, her piercing blue eyes boring into yours, and your fears melted away.

“I don’t know what I’m doing most of the time,” you confessed, fidgeting with your hands as you stared at your feet. “This is all I ever wanted, but now that I’ve made it, I don’t know if I’m cut out for all of this…I don’t…”

“You feel like you don’t belong?” Agatha guessed, and upon your small nod she added, “You obsess over every miniscule detail of each performance, and it doesn’t matter how many people say it was good, it feels like it wasn’t great. Right?”

You felt your blood run cold, as the conductor managed to hit the bullseye of your recent anxieties. Blinking back the tears that had been threatening to escape, you took a deep breath before looking back up to find her pointedly staring at the ground.

“How do you know that?” You asked softly, surprise evident in your tone, because Agatha was the most confident person you had ever met. 

“Perfectionism is practically conditioned into us from the day we begin learning music,” Agatha reflected, still not meeting your gaze. “You know, my mother was a rather successful pianist.”

When you refrained from commenting, because you did know that, Agatha continued. “She’s the reason I started playing the piano. Sometimes I think she only had a daughter not because she wanted a child, but because she wanted to mold another version of herself. Nothing that I wanted ever mattered, it was always about her.”

“I’m sorry,” you said sincerely, because you couldn’t imagine having a parent like that, but the conductor waved off your apology, clearing her throat.

“Don’t be. My mother was a fool, and she remained one for the rest of her life,” Agatha said, without a trace of sorrow in her voice. “My introduction to music was one filled with fear. I had been taught to never be satisfied with myself, because I could have been better. I wasted a large portion of my childhood seeking her approval, wanting for her to be proud of me. But I eventually learned that it’s impossible to win when you’re being set up for failure.”

This was the most vulnerable Agatha had ever allowed herself to be with you, and you nervously folded your hands across your chest.

“So what did you do?”

“Well, I moved across the country when I turned eighteen, and never saw her again until she was being put in the ground,” Agatha reminisced, finally daring to look up at you. “I’ve made my fair share of mistakes over the course of my career, but one thing I’ll never regret is embracing fear.”

“Embracing fear?” You repeated, unsure of where she was going.

“Those thoughts you’ve been having,” Agatha prompted, her attention focused solely on you, “they don’t go away. They’ll most likely just get worse. So, you can either succumb to it, and let the fear of failure win, or you can embrace it and allow yourself the ability to recognize that greatness doesn’t come from perfection; it comes from having the courage to try at all.”

You had unconsciously shifted closer to the conductor as she spoke, until your shoulders were nearly touching as you both leaned against the edge of the stage. 

“Has that helped you?” 

“As much as it can. Music is unique, as is every musician,” Agatha thoughtfully replied.

The gears in your brain turned, thinking back on the multiple instances where Agatha had made a member of the MSO cry. 

“And do you use that advice when working with your own orchestra?”

“Funny,” Agatha deadpanned, grabbing her wine glass by the stem to take a sip before setting it back down. “There’s a difference between pushing yourself too hard versus settling for mediocrity.”

“I think that’s a bit harsh, isn’t it?” You pointed out. “They’re all world class musicians. I think sometimes you’re too hard on them.”

“They are,” Agatha confirmed, running a hand through her hair as you fixated in on her messy dark brown curls. “But some of them have become lazy. They don’t feel the need to improve at all, and that’s an insult to the craft. It’s my job as their conductor to make them want to perform at their very best.”

You knew Agatha meant well, and deep down you were sure the orchestra did as well.

“That makes sense, thank you.”

“For what it’s worth, I thought you were extraordinary this evening,” Agatha praised you, her hand coming to rest on top of yours. “You’ve always been extraordinary.”

The physical contact was a surprise, but not an unwelcome one. Relaxing under her touch, you felt your cheeks grow warm from the compliment. “Thank you, Agatha.”

Your glass of wine abandoned on the stage behind you, you allowed yourself the opportunity to enjoy this intimate exchange with the woman who had been haunting your memory for the past five years. Agatha, for her part, appeared to be comfortable as well, as her hand remained atop yours, unmoving from where she stood next to you.

“And for the record, Hela and I are friends,” Agatha murmured, grabbing your attention once more. Sensing your surprise that she picked up on what you had been hinting around, she rolled her eyes. “You’re a lot of things, darling, but you’ve never been subtle.”

Her words sounded eerily similar to what you had asked her earlier, but you had made it this far and after years of what if’s and errors of miscommunication, you had grown weary of the unknown.

“Friends….like how you and I are friends?” You quietly questioned, the implications of what you meant appeared to be obvious enough from the way Agatha gave you an amused smirk.

“No, dear,” Agatha murmured, raising her hand to gently stroke your cheek, looking at you in ways you had only been able to dream of. “Not like how you and I are friends.”

Tangling her fingers in your hair, Agatha chuckled at the involuntary shiver you let out as she leaned in, resting her forehead against yours. She was so close, and any self control you had mustered was slowly slipping. Your breathing turned shallow, eyes locked on her perfectly plump red lips.

There were so many things you wanted to say, but your brain short circuited as the conductor parted her lips, slowly moving towards yours. You could smell the wine on her breath, as you vividly pictured tasting it off her tongue. Using her free hand, Agatha tilted your chin up, forcing you to look at her, and you were lost gazing into her hazy blue eyes.

Before you could fully rationalize what you were doing, you leaned in, closing your eyes as your lips were about to meet. From the back of your mind, you thought you heard Agatha’s breath hitch as your heart raced from the anticipation. 

A loud slam of a door caused you to break apart. Agatha ran a hand through her messy locks, breathing heavily and you felt your cheeks grow hot as she gave your hand a brief squeeze before stepping away from the stage, straightening her suit jacket. 

A man came stumbling into the room before you could ask what almost just happened, holding what appeared to be a small cage. He looked familiar, did you know him from somewhere?

The man, who seemed to be oblivious to what he just walked into, spotted Agatha and began to nervously ramble.

“Maestra, I’m so sorry. The flight got delayed, and apparently you can’t only buy a first class ticket for an animal, so I was able to get myself one too. I tried to use my card to pay for it, but it didn’t go through, so I put it on yours. Then I tried to call you, but my phone stopped working. I tried to check into the hotel, but I realized I left my wallet at the airport. I remember you said you’d be here so I thought I’d come and-” 

Holding up a hand to silence him, Agatha pinched the bridge of her nose in irritation. “It’s fine, Lang. Please stop, your voice is giving me a migraine.” 

The man kept going, shuffling around uncomfortably. “Well I can pay you back for the ticket but with my current salary it will probably take me around…a year, maybe?”

Agatha waved her hand dismissively, shaking her head. “I said it’s fine, Lang. Consider that your holiday bonus.”

The conductor sauntered over to the man, reaching her hands out to grab the cage from him. Gently setting it down on a nearby table, she opened it, pulling out a rabbit. She scratched his ears as held him, annoyance gone as she gave you a small smile. 

“Do you remember Scratchy, dear?”

Of course you did, you thought to yourself as Agatha brought Scratchy over to you, the hardened look in her eyes softening as you gave him a few pets. You discreetly nodded towards the man who was pacing the room, hands in his pockets, and Agatha sighed, her irritation appearing to return as she glanced back over at the man.

“Oh yes, I almost forgot. This is my assistant, Scott. He’ll be joining me for the rest of the summer.”

Scott gave you a quick wave and you couldn’t hide your surprise. This was Agatha’s assistant? He certainly wasn’t what you had pictured.

“Great,” you said, feigning enthusiasm, trying to pay attention to the conversation between Agatha and Scott, as the man told a rather strange story of his travel day.

The more he talked the more confused you were as to how Agatha hadn’t managed to fire him yet.

But, all you could really do was wonder what would have happened if Scott hadn’t interrupted, and what this meant for the rest of the summer; as opening night was quickly approaching. Your heart fluttered, as you realized the more time you spent with Agatha, the more you secretly wished you had never said goodbye to her all those years ago.

[captainsophiestark]

We're Good

Kol Mikaelson x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for my personal fic writing challenge for 2024, Sophie's Year of Fic! Featuring a new fic being posted every Friday, all year long :)

Fandom: TVD/TO

Summary: Kol meets Davina and finally seems serious about someone, so his best friend convinces herself to finally let go of her secret crush. But when Kol gets jealous of her paying attention to another guy, what once seemed settled might not actually be finished.

Word Count: 3,092

Category: Angst, Fluff

A/N: Title is lightly inspired by the Dua Lipa song, although the fic doesn't totally fit it.

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

I tried not to scowl as I watched Kol from the second level of the Mikaelson compound. He was down on the dancefloor, in the middle of the latest party he and his family had decided to throw. I knew Nik or Elijah had some ulterior motive for hosting, but I hadn't cared because this time, I'd had my own ulterior motive. I'd put on my absolute best outfit and made sure I looked like a knockout, all so I could finally tell Kol Mikaelson, my longtime friend and crush, how I really felt about him.

And now, before I could, he was standing at the edge of the dancefloor trying to make a move on Davina Claire.

I should've known. Kol and I had been friends for a long time, and despite pretty regular flirty moments between us, he'd never taken any steps to make us something more serious. Instead, he flirted with, hooked up with, and even dated whatever mortal he'd most recently fallen for while I stood by pretending not to get my heart broken.

This time, I was done with it. For good.

I set my jaw and squinted, refusing to let the tears fall as I turned from the balcony. I almost made it into a hallway off the Mikaelson compound where I could disappear from everything, but of course, I couldn't quite get that lucky.

"He's a bloody idiot, you know."

Rebekah Mikaelson, my best friend in the world, stood before me with her hands on her hips, blocking my exit.

"Rebekah-"

"I'd love to have you for a sister-in-law, but you deserve better than one of my idiot brothers. As a boyfriend and as a friend."

"Bex, I don't want to hear it right now."

The sympathy on her face almost killed me, but she stepped aside. I thought that would be it, but then she called out to me just before I could turn the corner and escape this whole mess.

"Mourn all you like tonight, but tomorrow we're going out! There are plenty of men in this city to help you forget all about Kol!"

****************

Rebekah gave me exactly one day before she started hounding me about going out on the town to forget her "idiot brother". And honestly, I might've ignored her, except for the fact that Kol spent the entire day after the ball with Davina.

I'd always known he was a flirt, but this time, he actually seemed to mean it. So I gave him more space than usual, for my sake as much as his, and spent more time wih Rebekah. We baked and went on walks, and after a while, I stopped shooting her down when she tried to drag me to bars. Kol kept hanging out with Davina, but slowly, seeing them together was starting to hurt a little less. I always thought if he found a girl to get serious about, it would be me. And a tiny little part of my heart still tore to shreds when I saw how wrong I'd been. But unlike those first few days, the heartbreak wasn't eating me alive anymore.

Which is how I ended up out at a bar with the entire Mikaelson family, dancing my heart out on the dancefloor without a second thought for whether Kol would join me.

We'd first started a montly tradition of the firve of us going out and just having fun a few years ago, and despite various dramas and the siblings scattering to the winds, we'd more or less managed to keep it up. We always picked a place a few hours from where any of us were living and planned to stay the night, so we could well and truly forget everything but having a good time together. Normally, I spent the night orbiting Kol, to the point that Nik usually had a field day giving me shit about it. Tonight had been a little different.

I'd joined Nik in dragging Elijah out of the house, gone with Rebekah to order all of us some truly strange, fun cocktails, and danced the night away on the dancefloor with all of them, without my mind or gaze constantly circling back to Kol. He didn't seem to even notice the shift, and I was surprised to find that it didn't really bother me. Kol was a good friend, after all, and with a little more time to process, maybe we'd even be better off.

"Hey!" Rebekah shouted into my ear, still barley making herself heard over the music around us. We'd been here for hours, but none of us showed any signs of slowing down just yet. "That guy at the bar has been staring at you all night!"

I turned to follow her gaze and found a handsome guy looking back. He smiled, a little sheepish, and I returned the gesture before whipping around to Rebekah.

"Why are you so fixated on setting me up with somebody?"

"Because it's fun! And I haven't got to do it once in all the time I've known you because you've been so hung up on Kol. So come on, let me have my fun!"

I made a face. I wasn't sure I wanted to take a chance on the random person Rebekah had found, regardless of me finally being over Kol. She huffed, then leaned in to speak in my ear again.

"Just trust me! I compelled him and asked him some questions, and he seems like someone you'd get along quite well with!"

I closed my eyes. "You compelled him, Rebekah? Seriously?"

"Well how else was I supposed to make sure he wasn't some sleezy werewolf or something? Go on, just talk to him!"

"Fine! Fine, but it's still our Mikaelson Family Fun Day, so I'm just going to talk."

"That's fine with me! Although I promise not to judge you if you don't come back to the room tonight-"

I picked up the nearest thing I could find (a stack of napkins) and hucked it at her, which she easily dodged. I did my best to ignore her laughing behind me as I headed for the bar.

The guy smiled as I approached him, and I smiled back. I headed for an open spot standing next to him at the bar, and he started speaking as soon as I came within hearing range.

"Hey! I've been hoping you'd come over and say hi all night."

I smiled. "Why didn't you come over and say hi yourself?"

"Didn't want to interrupt you and your friends if you didn't want to be bothered," he said with a shrug. "Although, that girl Rebekah tried awfully hard to get me to come over once or twice."

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, Rebekah loves nothing more than meddling, especially in my life." I paused. "I'm glad she convinced me to come over and talk to you though."

"So am I! I-"

He broke off at the same time as I felt someone slide up to the bar behind me, chest almost pressed into my back. I started to turn around to tell whoever it was to back off, but a familiar voice spoke up before I could.

"Why don't you go find someone else to bother, mate?" said Kol, his tone laced with the slightest undercurrent of a threat. Apparently, he'd decided to make sure he got what he wanted, because a moment later the guy whose name I hadn't even been able to get yet turned on his heel and walked away.

I rounded on Kol with a furious scowl, but he just grinned back at me, still very close and in my personal space. Normally, the proximity would've left me with butterflies, but right now all I felt was anger growing in the pit of my stomach.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" I asked, an edge to my voice that I'd really never directed at Kol before. His eyebrows shot up, but otherwise, he didn't seem bothered.

"I was getting rid of that creep who was bothering you. Come on, darling, I thought you'd be thanking me-"

"Thanking you? Kol, he clearly wasn't bothering me! I came up to him, for God's sake!"

"Well I'm sorry, it just looked like you might want me to step in-"

"How? How did it look like that, Kol?"

My voice was getting louder now, enough that a few people were starting to take notice, but I didn't care. I was furious at my so-called friend and he was going to hear about it.

Kol cleared his throat. "Love, maybe we should take this somewhere else-"

"Knock it off with the pet names! Kol seriously, what the fu-"

In a split second, the bar disappeared around me. Instead, I found myself thrown over Kol's shoulder as he vampire-sped out of the bar. When we finally stopped, it was just inside the front door of the house we'd all rented, with Kol's back to me as he closed the front door.

I took my opening and hurled the nearest pillow at his head. It hit its target dead on, and I got halfway through picking up another one when Kol used his vamp speed to close the distance between us and grab my wrist.

"Hey! Knock it off, alright? What's the matter?"

"What's the matter? Are you kidding me Kol?" I wasn't sure whether I wanted to laugh, cry, scream, or all three, but I focused on the screaming part as I faced a bewildered Kol. "You absolute hypocrite, how dare you pull me out of that bar, and how dare youstep into my conversation like that!"

"What? Is this seriously all about me scaring off that one guy? You hardley knew him!"

"Obviously it's not completely about him, although that move still sucked, Kol! It's about you thinking you have some right to barge into my life and scare off a guy who might be interested in me! Because that's what it was, right? There's no way you thought I wanted him gone, so you did all this because you wanted him gone, right?"

"...I- I guess I didn't really like seeing him with you, but-"

"But nothing! Kol, we've had just a kind of flirty friendship forever. And whenever it seemed like we might be heading into something else, you were always the one to bail out. And last month, when you found Davina and got serious about someone else, it ripped my heart out. But I forced myself to take some time and get over it! Because that's your choice, and I care about you regardless of if you want to date me. But Kol, you have been clearly, specifically going after Davina lately. Which means you have absolutely no right to come tell some guy at the bar to back off when he's flirting with me."

"Darling, come on-"

I held up a hand to cut Kol off. The storm of emotions had finally started calming, hardening into something more manageable. I'd let myself struggle in this relationship without ever having an up front conversation for far too long. We were going to set some boundaries and have it all out, whether or not Kol wanted to. I was done with the rollercoaster ride.

"Kol, I know you call a lot of people 'darling', but if you want to stay friends with me then I'm going to need you to stop calling me that."

Kol just stared at me for a few moments, blinking and apparently processing everything I'd just said. His eyebrows knit together and he looked seriously distressed, but I refused to back down. After a moment, he took a half step towards me, his hand reaching out slightly towards my own.

"...And what if I don't think I want to be friends anymore, darling?"

I scoffed, another overwhelming wave of anger rising up and over me. I shook my head and turned around, walking a few steps away and hoping the space would help me cool down.

"You better not be flirting with me right now, Mikaelson, after everything I just said and everything you've been up to with Davina lately."

"Davina and I aren't together, love. We went on a few dates after Nik's little party, but we've hardly seen each other since then, and I don't intend to keep anything going. You might have noticed, but you started avoiding me after the ball and I had no idea why."

I turned to face Kol at last, scanning his face for any hint of something that might help me make up my mind on how to feel about all this. The corner of his mouth quirked up in a smile, and I scowled.

"I wish you'd said something earlier about this little crush of yours, honestly. I didn't think I had a shot in hell with you. It would've saved us both some time."

I shook my head, slowly at first and then much much faster. Before I completely realized what I was doing, I crossed the room and smacked Kol in the chest. He was one of the oldest vamipres to ever live, so it didn't have much of an impact on him, but it definitely made me feel better.

"Kol Mikaelson, you jackass! You do not get to use this as an excuse to confess feelings for me!"

He laughed, holding up his hands and clearly fighting a beaming smile. I slowly tapered off my assault, instead opting for crossing my arms and absolutely fuming at him.

"Seriously, Kol, this isn't funny. I show interest in someone else for the first time in our friendship, and all of a sudden you're dropping everything to come and confess feelings for me? You get why I don't feel like that's completely sincere, right?"

Kol sighed, the smile finally falling off his face. He moved to close the distance between us again, and this time, I let him.

"I'm sorry. I'm not joking because it's a joke to me, I promise. I've had feelings for you as long as I've known you, darling, but I didn't think I had a chance with you. And you've been important to everyone in our family for just about as long as we've known you. If I made things complicated, or made you want to stop spending time with all of us, my siblings would've literally killed me."

I snorted, looking down so Kol wouldn't see me fighting a smile off my face. No matter what, Kol always seemed able to make me smile when I least wanted to. Normally, it was one of my favorite things about him.

"What can I do, hm? What can I do to prove I mean what I'm saying?"

I sighed, crossing my arms and at last looking up at Kol. With wide eyes and no hint of the sardonic smile I knew so well, he looked more serious than I'd ever seen him before.

"...If you're really sure about this, Kol, that you really mean this...?"

"I do. Darling, I swear I do. I promise you, I won't waste the chance if you give me one."

"Okay, then prove it. I've never seen you go more than a week without flirting with some human, witch, vampire, werewolf, or whatever other sentient beings we come across. Make it a month, and maybe I'll believe what you said about being serious about this."

"...And will we be dating for that month?"

Slowly, I shook my head. "No. I want to, Kol, and I want that to be where this goes, but... I need to see that this is real first. I want to believe it is, so badly, but after centuries of meaningless flirting and dancing around each other without a conversation, of seeing you have flings every chance you get and watching each one of those burn out... I can't just take it on faith."

Kol sighed, glancing down at the ground before meeting my eyes again. He didn't say anything, just closed the little remaining distance between us as he brought his arms up to circle my waist. He pulled me to him, leaning down with a glance at my lips, and I didn't stop him as he pulled me into a kiss.

Fireworks exploded in my chest. My knees went a little week as I leaned further into Kol, resting my hands on his shoulders. After a few long moments, just as my common sense started returning to tell me what a mistake this was, Kol pulled back with a grin.

"Sorry, darling. But I couldn't wait a month to do that."

I snorted and shook my head, stepping carefully out of Kol's grip. He watched my every move with a smile, and my heart did a backflip when he licked his lips. I told my heart to calm the hell down.

"I... certainly didn't mind the potential preview," I admitted.

Kol laughed, running a hand through his hair as he looked at me.

"This is going be the longest month of my life... but if that's what it'll take, I'll make it through. I know it'll be worth it, especially now."

I rolled my eyes, but this time, I couldn't quite keep a smile off my face. Finally, my heart started returning to a normal pace, and I managed to meet Kol's eyes again without having a cardiac event.

"Alrlight, so... what do we do now? I don't know about you, but I don't particularly want to go back to the bar."

"Is that a joke, darling?" He raised an eyebrow at me, but I just shook my head. His mouth dropped open like he couldn't believe I was serious. "I may not get to do the activity I most want to do right now for another month, but I did just get my best friend back after extensive radio silence. We have so many episodes of our favorite shows to catch up on!"

"...You didn't watch them without me?"

"Of course not! Did you watch them without me?"

"Of course not!"

"Well then, there you have it! That's our evening. You make the popcorn, I'll turn on the tv."

I laughed as Kol turned on his heel, getting immediately to work. I still wanted to wait the month I'd made him promise; I still wasn't confident his romantic affections wouldn't wander. But despite all that, a massive weight lifted off my chest as I headed into the kitchen for snacks. I had my best friend back, and finally, after a ridiculous amount of waiting and dancing around each other and poor communication, we were actually getting a shot at our happy ending.

****************

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury @kmc1989 @space-helen

TVD/TO Taglist: @elenavampire21

[choerypetal]

Having a relationship between Mike Schmidt and Steve Raglan

Having to share a relationship between Mike Schmidt and Steve Raglan would be interesting (SFW & NSFW) hihi Enjoy!

SFW 

If a romantic entanglement involving Mike, Steve, and yourself were ever to materialize, it's worth noting that they aren't particularly keen on sharing. Especially if one of them feels that they  monopolizing their time with you a little too much. You see, to them, you serve as both entertainment and a source of distraction to maintain their sanity.

Steve had a distinctive approach to relationships. He relished role-playing scenarios and enjoyed seeing you play the role of a devoted partner. Upon returning from work, he had an expectation that you would have dinner prepared for him upon his arrival. That meant, dressing like a wife and being meticulously responsible with your duty. 

Steve had a deep appreciation for your culinary skills. Every Friday, as a gesture of gratitude for your kindness and domestic attentiveness, he would order takeout on his way home. This package usually included a thoughtful card, a bouquet of flowers, and a bottle of wine. And each evening would often culminate in a relaxed yet passionate encounter.

In contrast to Steve, Mike had a completely different perspective. Having faced numerous challenges in his life, he viewed you as the love of his life. This sentiment often translated into him tenderly embracing you, wrapping his arms around your waist when he returned home from work, eagerly anticipating dinner. His guilt for not assisting with meal preparations weighed on him, but you, understanding how exhausted he was, firmly insisted that he relax and even allowed him to rest his head on your shoulder.

While you appreciated his efforts to assist you, you also took pleasure in witnessing his relaxation. It was a rare sight, the way he would occasionally sneak a kiss from you, even when you pretended to be asleep before he headed off to work. It was these small gestures that brought him great joy. Sometimes, they led to extended cuddling sessions that seemed to stretch for hours, only to be interrupted by the reminder that he had to return to work.

NSFW 

Dry Humping : 

This was a favorite experience for both of them. Mike, in particular, preferred a gentle and unhurried approach. He took pleasure in watching the gradual blush deepen on your cheeks with each tender moment. The subtle friction between your lingerie and the warmth of his clothing held a special allure for Mike. Let's just say that Mike reveled in intimate moments that were passionate and unhurried. In fact, there were times when he was so exhausted that he willingly relinquished control to you. When he returned home from work, he'd head straight to his room, a subtle invitation for you to join him. You'd often find him already asleep, lying on his back, his face turned towards you with closed eyes. Sometimes, the sensations of your movements would stir him, leaving you in suspense, unable to discern whether he was truly asleep or not. This ambiguity added an extra layer of enjoyment to the experience for both of you.

For Steve, it was the complete opposite. Whenever he was engrossed in work or engaged in a call with a client, you would stealthily enter his office, taking extra care to make no noise that might raise suspicion. This clandestine rendezvous was something Steve found quite enjoyable. As you approached him, it was you who would assert control before he had a chance to resist. Only once the calls and other tasks were completed would he finally wrap his arms around your petite waist. The sensation of your clothes rubbing against each other would gradually intensify, transitioning from a slow pace to something more urgent. Your voice would fill the room, calling out his name, as he leaned in to explore the curve of your neck, his full lips eagerly exploring every inch they could reach. 

Peaking : 

Mike typically wasn't one to sneak a peek, but when he was truly captivated, you couldn't underestimate his curiosity. His fascination often went a bit overboard whenever you entered the same room as him. You began to notice this when you returned late from your job at the local canteen, still wearing the uniform that your boss required all waitresses to wear. Exhausted from your long day, you inadvertently forgot to lock the door while changing, and this presented an unexpected opportunity for Mike. Although he had seen a naked body before, it was his way of expressing his deep admiration for you. While it may have seemed a bit strange at the beginning of your relationship, you eventually grew to appreciate how his eyes would light up as each piece of clothing was removed. Even the subtle moments, like when you knelt down to retrieve something you had dropped, only to find Mike discreetly stealing a glance, became endearing in their own way.

Steve had a more uninhibited approach to peeking. While Mike would either request it in advance or on specific occasions, Steve didn't bother with such formalities. In fact, he often indulged in discreet glances in your direction whenever you made any kind of movement. Whether you were bending down to pick something up from the floor or leaning forward to him, providing him with an enticing view of your cleavage, Steve didn't hold back. Sometimes, when Steve visited the Pizzeria where you worked, your role as his employee also meant being at his beck and call for whatever he desired that evening. As the boss, he expected you to accommodate his requests, and if that involved being a source of temptation for him, he was sure to make it abundantly clear. 

Intercourse : 

Mike had a preference for unhurried and passionate encounters. He wasn't inclined to opt for quickies, and if the thought ever crossed his mind, it was likely during a moment of urgency. In general, he favored languid and intimate sessions, whether it was in the morning, sometimes in the shower, or at night – especially if you managed to steal away to the Pizzeria to entice him. He was the kind of lover who left you in a state of lingering desire, a reminder of who you belonged to, without being overly rough and leaving you sometimes when he dared to with a hint of looping tease. However, if he did go a bit too far, which you didn't mind at all. In fact, you found his earnest apologies endearing, and it even added an extra layer of intimacy to your relationship. To this, Mike didn't raise any objections.

Steve, on the other hand, had a fondness for the intensity of quick and passionate encounters. He took pleasure in witnessing your eyes roll back in ecstasy as your bodies ignited with desire, feeling your fingernails dig into his skin, leaving their mark all over you. Steve delighted in the idea of demonstrating that you were unequivocally his, regardless of the setting, even if it meant a hasty encounter in a department store's changing room. While he wasn't particularly keen on public spaces, your fascination with them was one of your fantasies that deeply aroused him, pushing him to explore more daring encounters, including in his office. Steve wasn't hesitant to leave tender red marks on your buttocks, eliciting your passionate pleas and cries for his name, often rendering you unable to move the next day. This, in turn, led to teasing and left you blushing intensely, with a pout that invited a mischievous grin to dance across his face.

After care : 

Mike was incredibly nurturing and affectionate when it came to post-intimacy care. After both of you had reached the peak of pleasure, and with exhaustion from your busy days taking over, you often found yourselves napping for extended periods. His lips would tenderly pepper your warm skin, repeating declarations of love for you. Sometimes, he'd suggest taking a soothing shower together, and on other occasions, he'd wrap his arms around you to cuddle for hours, all the while engaging in lighthearted conversations about life and sharing silly dad jokes. This would often result in Mike monopolizing the conversation, but he would always pause to place a gentle kiss on your lips, his fingers tracing gentle circles on your body, conveying a desire to hold onto that intimate moment for as long as possible.

Despite Steve's dominant and somewhat sadistic tendencies, he possessed a unique and caring side, which may have seemed peculiar to some but was endearing to you. After an intimate session, he would tenderly scoop you up in a bridal style if you happened to be at home. Steve would then prepare a soothing, warm bath for both of you, complete with a glass of wine, all in an effort to pamper and clean you. He'd wash away any traces of the session and proceed to plant more kisses on your skin, as though the ones he had left earlier weren't sufficient. You couldn't help but chuckle at the sensation of his plump lips caressing your soft skin, especially as the warm bathwater enveloped both of you. Steve had a penchant for the simpler pleasures in life, and if a bath and some extra cuddling brought happiness to your world, it was all that truly mattered to him.

[ponderingmoonlight]

Shibuya Arc scenarios that live in my head rent free pt l

Getting sealed along with Gojo

Geto awakening by the sound of your voice

Word Count: 3,1k

Warnings: these hurt pretty bad; language

Getting sealed along with Gojo

It wasn’t the easiest task to get this far. The curtains of these fucking curses were not that easy to overcome, let alone unnoticed. But now you’re here. You finally made it to the train track where Satoru Gojo should be found. Satoru, your precious boyfriend of three years. Satoru, the jerk who left you alone at home without telling you a single damn word about Shibuya getting flooded by curses.

Your face is screwed up in nothing but anger while you scan the area for him. He has some fucking nerve. You’re a grade 1 sorcerer, very much needed in times like these. Who does he think he is to simply leave you in the unknown?

It isn’t hard to sense his immense powers. Without any effort, you smoothly glide over what looks like a crime scene. So many corpses of not only curses, but humans. What the hell happened here? And who did all of this?

Time seems to stand still when you finally catch a glimpse of him. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. This isn’t really happening, right? Your souls seems to leave your body behind, empty shell staring at the scene in front of you.

“Oh, look who decided to join us on this lovely day! Nice to see you again, (y/n)!”

It’s Geto’s voice and his so painful familiar appearance. Salty tears start to sting your eyes, memories of your last encounter begin to flood your mind uncontrollably. As much as you wished this was true, this has to be a cruel joke, an optical illusion.

“What the hell are you doing here, (y/n)? Get out of this place right now”, Gojo yells at you with an aggression in his voice that you’ve never heard before.

You flinch for a second, too overwhelmed by the act in front of you. Why on earth is your boyfriend tied into place and who was even able to do so? What is this thing with Geto’s appearance? What the hell is going on here?

“Oh, don’t be a spoilsport, Satoru. Let (y/n) watch while I seal you. Too bad you won’t see here die then…Well, you can’t have everything at once I guess”, the shell of Geto comments.

“Sealed?”, you repeat incredulously.

Panic crawls through your veins, for a second you feel like fainting. You know all too well what that means. Getting sealed is another definition for getting killed. Even Satoru, the strongest of all…

What if he won’t make it? What if you’ll never see your boyfriend again? The sheer thought of being forced to live without him kills you from the inside and makes your former anger vanish in thin air. You’ve been through hell and back, grieved over Suguru when he died, fought battle over battle on each other’s side, taught the young ones with all your heart. But most importantly, you loved each other dearly every time your hearts beat, in good and bad times.

“Don’t worry about me, I’ll be back”, Gojo assures you, a cheeky smile plastered on his face.

“Do you know what getting sealed means, idiot?”, you cry out, tears now staining your face.

“She’s kinda right, Satoru…”

“It means we might never see again, it means you would’ve left me home alone knowing that this might be the last time you’re stepping through our door.”

The pain that is dripping from your voice is hard to bear for Satoru. He knows you have every right to be absolutely furious at him, that getting sealed is a challenge even for him he isn’t 100% sure about.

“But I couldn’t afford to live with the thought of losing you, (y/n)”, he replies, eyes locking with yours.

“I can’t let you go like that. It simply can’t end like this. I…I won’t let this happen!”, you scream on top of your lungs.

“As much as I enjoyed the show, it’s over now. Good night, Satoru Gojo. Let us meet again in the new world”, Geto speaks out.

Your mind races while the sealing begins to tighten itself around your boyfriend. What are you supposed to do? Are you able to stop it? No, absolutely not. If Satoru can’t stop himself from getting sealed, there is no chance that you can. Pictures of your precious shared moments, of his striking smile and his tight hugs linger through your mind. You can’t afford to lose him, a life without Satoru would be useless. You need to make a decision.

Satoru isn’t even able to react when you start sprinting towards him, vision clouded by pure determination. Just the split of a second before your limbs get cut off by the seal, you are able to press your body against his and get soaked up in the innocent dice along with him.

“(y/n)”, he breathes out.

Slowly but surely, he opens up his eyes. No, this can’t be true, this has to be a bad dream, right? You can’t be with him in this prison, not trapped for eternity. But the way your arms are tightly wrapped around him is proof enough for your presence. You are here. You’ve got sealed along with him.

“Why on earth did you do that?”

“I can’t be without you. I’d rather die by your side than live without you!”, you bawl, pressing yourself against his body as hard as you can.

“(y/n), why didn’t you do what I told you, why did you come to Shibuya in the first place? You shouldn’t be here, especially because you know what being sealed means. I…I don’t have a definite plan on how I’m getting out of here yet! Why did you have to hold onto me!?”, he insists, grabbing your face roughly and forcing you to look at him while the violent tone in his loud voice shatters your heart.

Your whole life was ahead of you. Sure, Satoru would have missed you every time his heart beats, but missing you doesn’t hurt as much as destroying your whole damn life. He would have never asked such a thing from you. Never. And even though he himself wants so spend his so desperately by your side, this surely isn’t what he wanted.

“Because I love you, Satoru!”, you scream out.

He breathes heavy, eyes completely lost in yours while you cry your heart out. Fuck, you shouldn’t be here, this didn’t go as planned at all. He knew about the risks, that this mission will cost countless lives and yours definitely shouldn’t be one of them. He’d rather die himself than taking your life away from you. But now you’re here, sealed along with him.

“I love you too, (y/n). That’s why I wanted to protect you. That’s why I wanted you to stay in our apartment”, he murmurs.

Satoru can’t hold it back any longer. Without thinking twice, he wraps his strong arms around you, holds you close against his chest, strokes your head gently just like you deserve it. This was dumb, this was reckless, this might cost you your life.

But you did it for him. You did it because your love for him is greater than your fear of dying. And that’s probably the biggest proof of love that exists.

“I’ll promise you we’ll make it out of here, okay?”

“That doesn’t matter to me. As long as you are here, I’m happy”, you reply without thinking twice.

He pulls you in for a passionate kiss. Maybe love is the most twisted curse of all, but you’ll make it out together, he just knows it.

Your sacrifice won't be useless.

Suguru awakening by the sound of your voice

You heard rumors in the underground for a while now – rumors about Geto Suguru suddenly being alive again. And even though you would give your very own life for that being true, you just know it can’t be possible. After all, you were there. Back then, when he died through the hands of fucking Satoru Gojo and his student.

You know you shouldn’t be here, that searching at Shibuya is dumb and reckless considering the fact that you’re not bonding with the other jujutsu sorcerers, but also definitely not with the curses that roam around this area either. It’s stupid, but you simply can’t help yourself.

The little spark of hope that the love of your life might still be around haunts you down the crowded streets of Shibuya. You never really had the time to say goodbye to Suguru. After all the things you’ve been through together, building an empire to get rid of all those monkeys, building your very own life together and growing on each other, you could only stare in disbelief at his dead body. So many years. So many years he stood by your side, lifted you up when you were down, cuddled you into sleep, treated you like the most precious treasure on earth.

Maybe he did make it somehow, though. Maybe it was his plan all this time that everyone around him thinks he’s dead. If you haven’t seen it with your very own eyes, you’ll simply refuse to give up the idea of him still walking on this earth.

You just want your Suguru back.

Your ears perk up when you hear his familiar voice and you can’t help but sign in annoyance. Of course Satoru Gojo has to be here, trying to save as many monkeys as possible. But where he is, there’s action. And where action is you’ll probably find Suguru.

With neckbreaking speed you run down the underground tracks, screams and cries of pain and grief ringing louder and louder. Shivers run down your spine before you can stop them, a scenery of absolute horror reveals itself in front of your eyes. Deformed and dead curses plastered on the floor along with a few corpses of humans here and there. You can tell by the look in their frightened eyes that they’ve seen some horrible things. Huh, you couldn’t care less though. After all, you’re only here for Suguru. You don’t give a damn about some monkeys.

“I don’t know who you are, but you’re not Suguru Geto!”

Your feet pick up their pace immediately, heart starting to hammer against your chest. That was Satoru. And he said his name. Is it really possible that your Suguru is here? Are rumors true after all? Until this moment, you never allowed yourself a single spark of excitement. But now that even Satoru said it you can’t help but grin from ear to ear, literally levitating into the direction of Satoru’s voice.

And then you hear it, loud and clearly. The sweet voice of your boyfriend, the love of your life. The voice you never imagined to ever hear again.

“Suguru?”, you cry out.

Time stands still when you catch a glimpse of him. Oh, he looks as handsome as ever, a wide grin plastered on his face while talking to Satoru. But something about his appearance makes your heart drop. You can sense that it’s his cursed technique, your eyes tell you clearly that this is Geto Suguru.

But your heart just knows this isn’t him.

“Is that really you, (y/n)?”, he questions when his brown eyes meet yours.

But they aren’t glimmering in excitement like they used to, his smile isn’t as wide as it was when you last saw him. No, everything inside of you screams in your face that it can’t be him, that this is the shell of the man you used to love. You want to break down and cry, to grieve losing the love of your life again.

But you swallow the lump in your throat away. Whoever this is needs to pay for using Geto’s legacy. And you’ll make sure he will.

“So it’s true, you really are still alive!”, you breathe out while running towards him.

Oh, you want nothing more than to die when he embraces you in a hug, his arms feeling just like they did back then. His smells tingles in your nose, reminds you of the countless nights you wore his shirts to bed and how you always sniffed on his clothing before washing it. You loved this man with every fiber of your being.

“Life itself, darling”, the voice of Suguru confirms, his hand stroking your hair just how you like it.

“This isn’t him, (y/n)! This is not your boyfriend!”, Gojo shouts in your direction, making you almost lose your cool.

You want to scream into his face, want to break down in tears. But instead, you burry your face in Suguru’s neck to stop yourself from crying.

“Shut up, Satoru. You’re ruining the moment.”

Whoever controls Suguru needs to truly believe that you’re on his side, that you are convinced he’s in fact Suguru. If that thing is able to control his body, it might as well be capable of using his cursed technique. And you know that you can’t stand a chance against him.

“I thought you were dead”, you hush, his hand gently lifts your head.

“But as you see, I’m clearly alive. I’m so sorry for not reaching out to you, my love. But this is a part of my plan. I couldn’t afford to get you involved into this mess”, he explains briefly, a warm smile playing around his lips while his eyes lock with yours.

“I’m so glad you’re back…”

“Did I tell you how much I love you already?”

“Go to bed darling, it’s way too late for you to be up.”

“Don’t worry my love, I’ll be back by your side as soon as I killed that boy. Have fun at the night parade.”

You blink away the tears that form in your eyes when memories begin to flood your mind over and over again. This has to end right here and now.

One last hug. You need to hug his body one final time. Just one sweet moment of pretending that Suguru is actually here, that you’re not talking with his empty shell.

“But you aren’t the man I loved.”

 With a swift motion, you pull out your cursed gun and aim for his head, ready to shoot the man you love.

But you can’t.

Faster than you are able to react, he grabs your wrist so roughly that your gun falls deafeningly to the ground. Your heart sinks into your chest, sight clouded by thick anger and hot tears.

“Nice try. But I know you’re usually smarter than that, (y/n).”

“How dare you to use his body like that…I will make you pay for every damn minute that you defile him! Get out of his body!”, you scream on top of your lungs.

Over and over, you fight against his firm grip, try to escape his cruel laughter while his eyes seem to pierce right through you. But he’s too damn strong and you weren’t prepared for something like this.

Violently, he grabs you by the throat, feet floating in the air while it feels as if your windpipe is going to rip every minute. You can’t catch your breath. With every passing second, your body refuses to fight back, vision already starting to get blurry by the lack of oxygen and blood pumping through your veins.

Is this really how it ends? Are you really dying through the hands of your former lover? How pathetic, how bittersweet. At least you’ll be by his side when you meet again, with your Suguru.

“I always loved you, Suguru”, you cough out.

Suddenly, his firm grip loosens and before you can catch yourself, you fall to the ground, gasping for air like a fish on land. What the hell happened? Why did he let go? Through watery eyes, you stare at the scenery unfolding in front of you. Suguru’s hand is wrapped around is very own neck, strangling himself so violently that he gasps for air.

“How interesting, that never happened!”, Suguru’s voice announces.

And then he stretches out his other hand. Into your direction, as if he’s trying to lift you off the ground. Tears start to swell up your eyes all over again as you take it. His fingers gently intertwine with yours, just like they always used to.

“I love the way your hands fit in mine.”

“The whole world should know that you are mine, darling.”

“Suguru”, you whisper with trembling voice.

It’s him. It just has to be him, you can feel it. Tenderly, he caresses your thumb while you completely break down. Fuck, you miss him so much. You want nothing more than your Suguru back. Why? Why did he have to die? Why did you even hope that he might be back? What a cruel joke all of this is, ripping open your party healed wounds all over again.

“I want you back”, you cry out, making even Satoru swallow heavy.

His index finger shakes telling you no before his hand swallows yours one last time.

You know that you can’t stay here like this forever, that Suguru’s remaining won’t be able to fight back too long, so you make the decision that tears you apart.

With one last loving press of his hands, you let him go forever even though it shatters your heart. The man in front of you might have Suguru’s voice, appearance and memories, but this isn’t him. You have to accept that the love of your life is gone.

“If you really think you can control Suguru like that you have to be a little dumb. He’s way too strong to get overpowers by some parasite. I will come back. And I will kill you for what you did to him”, you hiss.

“I’ll be waiting for you, darling.”

Darling. Yes, you’ll always be Suguru’s darling. But that won’t stop you from ripping his body apart if you have to. At least know you know that he’ll always be by your side.

Always.

[simmeradventures]

Boba Legacy Challenge (TS3)

I have taken a break from sims 3 and while I am still working on my lepacy, I sometimes need a break and so look for more challenges. @tomatosoupcat posted a Boba challenge and didn't see a TS3 version so decided to covert it. THIS IS NOT MY IDEA AND I MIGHT NOT BE THE ONLY ONE. I kept within the theme and didn't write a massive story to them but did try add a creative spin.

GOOGLE DOC!!!

Gen 1: Brown Sugar

Leaving home is tough, but you will always have mum's cooking to keep you safe.

Traits: Couch Potato, Natural Chef, Green Thumb (Randomise The Rest)

LTW: Bottomless Wine Cellar OR Master Chef

Career: Nectar Maker OR Culinary

Skills: Cooking, Gardening and Nectar making

Colours: Brown, White

Master LTW

Marry a sim with 2 matching traits.

Max out skills

Gen 2: Blueberry

The farm life was nice, but there's a great big world waiting for you.

Traits: Non-Committal, Loves The Outdoors (Randomise The Rest)

LTW: Seasoned traveller OR Grand Explorer

Career: Part-Time Jobs Or Skill Based Profession (after quitting business job)

Skills: Fitness or Martial Arts (or both if your fancy), Scuba diving

Colours: Blue. Purple

Reach level 3 of the business career before quitting to travel

have a one night stand on your travels

never marry

Travel until child is a young adult

Max skills

Gen 3: Matcha

You've seen the world, but now all you want is a career and a forever home...or mansion.

Traits: Ambitious, Snob, workaholic (Randomise The Rest)

Careers: Any (based on degree)

Skills: logic (plus whatever is related to the degree.)

Colours: Light green

Go to university and graduate

Befriend and date co-worker (either break up once you reach level 10 of career or get married.)

Go to the spa every weekend

Complete LTW

Max Career

Max Skills

Gen 4: Passionfruit Mango

All work and no play so pick up a guitar and play anything you want.

Traits: Socially Awkward, Family Oriented, virtuoso (Randomise The Rest)

LTW: One sim band OR Rockstar

Career: Music

Skills: Guitar, Bass, Drum, Piano

Colours: Yellow, Orange

Play instruments throughout childhood

Date and marry someone with the Avant Garde or artistic trait

Go on art dates (museums or a cute art café)

Complete Career

Max Skills

Gen 5: Sakura

You are a party girl, but also a lover girl.

Traits: Flirty, Family Oriented, Hopeless Romantic (Randomise The Rest)

LTW: Master Romancer OR Master Mixology OR Surrounded By Family

Career: FREE PASS

Skills: Mixology, Charisma

Colour: Pink

Have a high school BFF

Sign up for online dating and date 5 sims (and fail)

Marry BFF

Complete LTW

Gen 6: Dragon fruit

Who needs love when you could rule the world?!

Traits: Evil, Childish, Irresistible (Randomise The Rest.)

LTW: Heartbreaker OR Gold Digger OR Emperor of Evil

Career: Criminal

Skills: Charisma, Athletic

Colours: Dark Red, Purple

Marry a wealthy sim and have them get into a "tragic accident."

Have a negative relationship with children

Max career

Max Skills

Gen 7: Taro

Never give up on your dreams even if life throws a baby at you.

Traits: Genius, Cat person (Randomise The Rest.)

LTW: Scientific Specialist OR Become A Creature Robot Cross Breeder

Career: Based on LTW

Skills: Science, Handiness, Logic

Colours: Light Purple

Join after school club (idk if its a mod but there's a chess club, can add other ones through Nraas)

Go to university and drop out when pregnant (if not using mods or using mod that allows you to go to university in hometown then drop out and then get pregnant 

Work part-time till the baby is a toddler

Go back to university and graduate

Adopt a cat. 

Gen 8 Lychee

“You're always on that damn phone!” and “I hate normal people.” made a baby 

Traits: Unflirty, Loner (Randomise The Rest.)

LTW:  Blog Artist OR Forensic Specialist

Career: Based on LTW/ Free pass

Skills: Social Networking, Science

Colours: Pink, White

Have a plant sim

Max Skills

Max Career

Gen 9: Thai Tea

Sometimes it's good to look back. Spread the founder’s love of food! 

Traits: Adventurous, Perceptive (Randomise The Rest)

LTW: Star News Anchor OR Professional Author 

Career: Journalism OR Writer Profession

Skills: Writing, Photography, Cooking

Colours: Orange

Visit France, China and Egypt to collect recipes 

Throw dinner parties (once a season.)

Max Career

Max Skills

Gen 10: Sunset

Humans have been fun, but everyone knows the supernatural have the most fun.

Traits: Hopeless Romantic, Good  (Randomise The Rest)

LTW: Master Mysticism OR Resort Empire

Career: Based on LTW

Skills: Scuba Diving, Alchemy, Painting

Colours: Purple, Red, Orange

Fall in love and marry a supernatural (if you choose resort empire LTW then you have to marry a mermaid.)

Decorate home with your art.

[msunitedstatesjames]

I just played the House of the Dead quest in Veilguard, and it might be my favorite quest in the game so far.

Everything about this quest was great.

The mood was perfect and distinct from other questlines. It was spooky, and gothic, and mysterious, and it was emotionally resonant too with Emmrich's obvious distress over the torment of the spirits. The envionment was such a classic haunted house, which some people might find overused, but I love a haunted house tale.

It was also one of the more substantial companion quests so far in the game. I love all the short and sweet quests we've had so far, but this one took over an hour to complete, had a number of challenging combat situations, had romance options if you're interested in romancing Emmrich, had an engaging mystery, and continued to build on the interesting lore behind the Mourn Watch. It also took you back into the Fade proper, a classic of Dragon Age, and I thought there were lots of entertaining and interesting companion comments/banter on top of it all.

If all that wasn't enough, it does what all the best companion quests in rpgs do, which is to get at the nature of what makes this character tick. I think Emmrich really shines every time you take him out, but this quest really helps to flesh his character out. If his compassion wasn't obvious enough by now, his desperation to find and help the trapped spirits makes that clear. I also just love when the worst thing he can manage to say about the "rogue necromancer" is that he'll have some stern words when you find them.

And then there's Hezenkoss. First of all, she immediately sets herself apart as a memorable villain. I can't even seem to remember the names of the gods we're supposed to be fighting, but this chick gets five minutes of screentime and her name is seared into my memory. She's got that classic, supervillain aura that I kind of miss from movies and tv when I was a kid. She has a very distinct look with her mad scientist glasses, her shining eyes, and her bizarrely cringey hand gestures/dance moves. I was grinning ear to ear the moment she came on screen.

On top of that, she's such a great foil to Emmrich. They come from the same background, they were friends, they even have some of the same desires, namely a desire not to join the dead. But while she chose to use the spirits to her advantage, regardless of the consequences, Emmrich has chosen to be kind, and to live with his natural fears, and to be a teacher. Although I have a feeling that will all be tested a little later on.

A little bit of a side note here, but I love what The Veilguard is doing for Necromancers. I've never once cared about Necromancers before. (Well, maybe once.) They are always portrayed as gloomy and sort of dully evil. Between Emmrich's kind and gentle demeanor and Hezenkoss's whackiness, I'm intrigued.

Anyway, all that to say whoever wrote this quest deserves a raise.

Edit: I almost forgot the hilarious moment you can get where Hezenkoss assumes Emmrich is the main character and calls Rook one of Emmrich's "hangers-on." And then when the battle starts Rook is so offended they feel the need to remind eveyone that they're not a hanger on.

[atarathegreat]

hi i love your works, they are amazing! if you don't mind could you write a one shot with Baji x reader, where they are 12-13(maybe before boys formed toman or just formed), she can be his friend, classmate, tutor, neighbour, Emma's friend, whatever your prefer, and Baji is so in love with her that everybody can see it and reader also knows it and his friends tease him A LOT. and maybe you can write how he confessed his love and his friends helped him(while they are still 12-13)

Baji was tough, shameless, and mean. It made him perfect for the newly formed Toman. Between him, Draken, and Mikey, the reputation of Tokyo Manji was spreading and climbing the ranks like crazy. Groups meetings once a week, people wanting to join nearly every day, along with gang fights when they were challenged. Baji learned to find joy in his new normal.

His mother didn't find it as charming, though. She often tried to talk him out of it, tired of him coming home covered in bruises and blood that may or may not have been his. She couldn't tell anymore. She just wanted her son to stop doing dangerous things.

"Hey, Mikey?" Baji turned around in the booth at the small diner they all hung out at, "What day are we meeting up this week?"

Mikey looked up from his plate of food, mouth full as he garbled out some nonsense. "Tuesday." Mitsuya translated, his hands busy with the stitching on the uniforms they would wear. The calm boy was probably the only one who could ever translate for Mikey, whether it be a mouth full of food or he was half asleep. Baji wasn't sure that Mikey ever spoke clearly unless they were at a rally.

"Why you askin'?" Draken looked up from his schoolbook to take a drink of his soda.

Baji smirked, blushing a little as he tried to hide behind the menu in his hands. Bashful boy. "I was thinking about trying to confess to the girl I like." Baji tried to scan the menu to calm himself, maybe get rid of his blush.

Maybe it wasn't the greatest for him to tell the group. Everyone paused and stared at him, even Pah, who more often than not was never interested in anything that wasn't food or fighting. "The one that lives in the apartment next to you?" Kazutora was the first to break the silence and ease the tension. Or he was oblivious to what was going on. "Yes, her." Baji groaned, wishing the menu would open a portal to literally anywhere else.

"Ask Mitsuya." Draken chimed in quickly. The blonde knew that if he hadn't spoken up that Kazutora would say something completely stupid and ruin Baji's chances with the little cutie that Baji was pinning after. And, as luck would have it, Mitsuya was the only one in the group that was inclined enough with the girls to know how Baji could have a fighting chance. Yet, when Mitsuya spoke, it didn't give Baji any hope. Flowers? Chocolate? Was his friend serious?

Kazutora laughed as Baji let his face slam into the table. "Can't I just take her on a motorcycle ride and her be my girlfriend?" He really wished it was just that simple, but, if Mikey was laughing at him, Baji assumed that Mitsuya was about to roll his eyes.

"At least give her a flower, you cave man." Mitsuya did, in fact, roll his eyes at Baji, "She won't get the idea that you like her just from a bike ride."

Draken dropped some coins on the table, "Get her a rose, the deepest red. I hear girls around school talking about 'em. Might work for you."

This was dumb. Dumb, dumb, dumb. Baji felt clueless as he dragged Mitsuya with him, asking a thousand questions on how to confess the right way and how to get her to like him back. Even with all the questioning and complaining from Baji, Mitsuya was more than happy to help. "It's a better plan than just taking her on a bike ride and hoping she'll assume you like her and want to be her boyfriend." Mitsuya carefully moved roses around, helping to pick the perfect one.

"Why not a pink one? Or a yellow one?" Baji grumbled, haphazardly shoving the roses around and earning glares from the workers. "Because, red is... man, I don't know!" Mitsuya scoffed, grabbing a pretty one, "Get this one and come on."

It didn't make Baji feel any more confident, and now Mitsuya was intent on seeing this through. All in the same day? He was getting cold feet the closer they got to the apartment complex.

"What if she already has a boyfriend?"

"What if she thinks I'm ugly?"

"What if she likes someone else?"

"What if she laughs in my face?"

Mitsuya couldn't believe this. Baji Keisuke who had been in dozens of fights and threatened third years was getting nervous to say "I like you" to a girl who lived next door. It was comical and Mitsuya wished he had recorded it. At least the audio. For anyone, it would be a strange sight. Mitsuya would've paid to watch Kazutora shit himself at the sight.

"Just be cool about it. Don't yell. Offer the flower first, say you like her, and invite her to the rally." Mitsuya knocked on the door and stepped away, "Easy as punching some asshat who insulted your bike."

He hoped that saying that wouldn't cause wires to cross in Baji's brain. It would be horrible: "Hi, I like you." *Punch.*

It was too late to rephrase it. The door opened, and Mitsuya ducked around the corner, not wanting to cramp Baji's Shiver Me Timbers style.

She was cute, Mitsuya would give Baji that. Around his height, nice hair, beautiful smile. It was almost making Mitsuya nervous. Would she like Baji?

"Hi?" Even her voice was cute.

Baji swallowed thickly as he felt his face go beet red. Or did he match the rose? Was it hot in the building? Was he sweating? "I-I got this rose for you!" Really?! A voice crack?! Now?! "I really like you and wanted to invite you to a rally with me and my gang."

Not how Mitsuya would've phrased it, but it was better than accidently knocking the poor girly unconscious.

"Oh." She seemed more caught off guard by the rose tickling her nostril than the loud way Baji rambled his words. "Thank you." Her nails were painted. Why did Baji notice that? Was it weird for him to notice that? Should he look away? Put his hands in his pockets?

"I'd like that, actually..." She was blushing! Score! Baji had this in the bag. "You're the boy next door, right? The one who rides the bike?"

Baji nodded. It was definitely getting hotter. She reached inside and wrote down her number on a sticky note before handing it to him, "Just let me know when and I'll go. Thank you for the rose."

Both boys were frozen as she closed the door. Until Baji fell flat on his back, covering his reddened cheeks. "That. Was. Embarrassing."

Mitsuya crossed his arms, "Sounds more like you got a date, to me."

[qsycomplainsalot]

AI isn't Art it's just Illegal Predatory Randomized CGI

Reposting this because OP blocked me, can't begin to guess why.

Photography, collage, readymade and various of the more abstract styles of painting and drawing are all art, and AI isn't. Why is that ? Simply, there are skills required to make technically interesting artpieces using these media, let alone meaningful ones. A skilled photographer might not be skilled with a pen, but their knowledge of composition and observation will always be transferrable to a new medium, in a way that they'll never start their art journey from scratch again. Because they're already an artist, because they've already done art and are skilled at it. Speaking for myself it took me a decade to get to a level where I was able to get paid for my work drawing traditionally, and once there it took me less than a year to reach a somewhat similar level switching over to digital. The skills are more comparable than with say collage or sculpture but the core principle still stands: I had gone and learned traditional art in art school, and while there I learned a slew of skills that were not at all limited to one tool, and when it came to switching I did not have to learn these skills again. Because by that point I was already a trained artist. I could just switch to sculpting with clay tomorrow and the biggest challenge would be to find a new market more than any skill issue.

Meanwhile fucking about with a computer to generate new pictures randomly has NO transferrable skills whatsoever. So much of the work has been taken out of your hands by a pattern seeking piece of software that it is impossible to learn anything from the experience. It's just plain to see when before you click the doodad to generate a new picture, you have NO IDEA what it will look like, none whatsoever unless you've been iterating on it before. You're not having an idea, formulating it in your mind and applying your skills to getting it out into the world, you just sort of have an idea and then a machine does the actual art work for you.

The only way you could possibly get better as an artist from doing this is if somehow you were deluded enough to think the process of scalping every artists' work in history was ethical, while also being observant and caring about art history enough that you'd learn critical skills from looking at the result of your quotation mark work end quote. Which is something you can do by going on a museum, or the internet. And if being an art historian isn't good enough for you, I invite you to actually join the elite exclusive vip club you're funding the death and automatisation of, by simply picking up a pen and piece of paper and starting to draw. It's that fucking simple.

PS: People trying to compare writing prompts with poetry: poetry does not include a stage in its process where all your artistic intent is surrendered to a machine to churn out a mash up of unethically sourced content. Nobody is going to buy a small book of computer generated picture prompts to keep on their night stand. You guys are delusional.

[blackenedsnow]

I have the creepiest idea If you like idk.

If you've watched Demon Slayer, you might know the kocho shinobu, and whatever I say, she is constantly medicating/poison herself after the death of her older sister so I thought about this so here it goes.

After Shadow was created for Maria,Reader was was created by Professor Gerald, but after Maria's death, they both went into depression, but all she wanted was revenge, she wanted to kill the person..who had planned to kill her she had to kill them..with her own hands or..body..? She had only one idea. She had no choice. She was injecting poison into her own body every day like 37kg could kill which can kill around 1000+ humans if she got shot or killed yk what I mean, and she went on tirelessly. She blocks every emotion away and keeps her smile while her eyes are empty since maria liked her smile she always smiled and blocked all the emotions.

One day she was injecting poison into his body again, but she had promised shadow and sonic were going on a trip together, but while she was injecting the poison, she was constantly crying in pain but she closed her mouth but she fall to the floor (it happens everytime when she does that) the two wondered got worried and opened the door at once, they were shocked and terrified by the sight of their beloved sister lying on the floor with..poison syringe in her hand.

What would they do..? Will she continue until she got revenge or they will stop her? (Song or anything recommend to listen make it more creepy:the lobotomy)

Have a nice day.

toxic salvation

WARNING: Self-harm (poison injections) depression, death and grief, emotional trauma, hurt/comfort, angst with a glimmer of hope

PAIRING: Shadow the Hedgehog & (Fem) Reader, Sonic the Hedgehog & (Fem) Reader

NOTE: I love the idea! It’s dark and intense. I haven’t watched Demon Slayer, but I’m definitely up for the challenge. As always, feel free to send as many requests as you’d like! Also, thank you for the song.

SUMMARY: After Maria’s death, all you want is revenge, even if it means destroying yourself with deadly poison. When Shadow and Sonic discover your dangerous secret, they’re determined to stop you before you lose yourself completely.

You had been created with one purpose—to be a companion for Maria, just like Shadow. The three of you were meant to be family. But when Maria was killed, something inside you broke. The light you once carried, the joy of being by her side, was snuffed out in an instant, leaving you with nothing but an empty shell and a searing hatred.

Maria had always admired your smile, and so you smiled. But that was all it was—an empty expression, masking the gnawing rage that consumed you. You couldn’t simply mourn. You needed revenge. You needed to make them pay.

The poison was your solution. You knew you didn’t have the raw power that Shadow did. You couldn’t fight like Sonic. But you could turn your own body into a weapon—a lethal trap, a ticking time bomb. Every day, you injected more poison into yourself, quietly building up a dose that could kill thousands. If they ever struck you down, it would be their last mistake.

But the poison came at a price. Your body weakened, your muscles ached, and the constant pain was unbearable. Still, you carried on, day after day, injecting the venom into your veins. Each time, you collapsed to the floor, tears streaming down your face, but you kept quiet, biting back the agony. You couldn’t let anyone find out. They wouldn’t understand. This was your burden to bear alone.

You had promised Shadow and Sonic that you would join them for a trip that day. It was supposed to be a rare moment of peace, a break from the constant tension. But as the time to leave drew closer, you found yourself unable to move, paralyzed by the familiar burning sensation coursing through your body.

You were alone in the small, sterile room you’d claimed as your own. The syringe was still clutched in your trembling hand, its needle gleaming in the dim light. Tears blurred your vision as you pressed the plunger, releasing another dose of venom into your veins. The pain hit you immediately—sharp, excruciating, and unrelenting.

You fell to the floor, gasping silently for air. You had no strength left to cry out, so you bit your lip, suppressing the sobs that threatened to escape. You had done this a hundred times, maybe more. But this time, it felt worse. Your body was rejecting it, your heart pounding wildly in your chest, your vision blackening at the edges.

But still, you smiled. The way Maria had always liked.

The syringe in your hand slipped from your grip, clattering onto the cold floor, the faint metallic sound echoing in the room. The venom had done its work, the familiar burn spreading through your veins, a bitter reminder of the choice you made every day.

You promised them you'd go on this trip, promised that things would be normal today. But here you were again, falling into the same cycle, trapped in this twisted routine of self-destruction. The tears rolled down your face, silent as always. The pain was sharp and relentless, but you refused to scream. Maria had loved your smile, after all. She never wanted to see you cry.

Your body gave out beneath you, knees buckling as you crumpled to the floor, limbs heavy, vision blurring. You felt the cold bite of the floor against your skin, but it was distant, far away, like the rest of the world. The only thing that mattered now was the poison in your veins, the growing numbness that followed.

It had always been this way. The agony came first, sharp and violent, and then, slowly, the numbness would set in, blanketing everything in cold indifference. You’d gotten used to it by now—this was your life. Every injection brought you closer to your goal, and each time, you felt a little less alive.

Meanwhile, Shadow and Sonic were waiting for you just outside. Mainly Sonic had been preparing for a small trip, something to help take everyones mind off everything. It wasn’t often you all got to relax, but today was supposed to be different.

“Where is she?” Sonic asked, pacing back and forth. “She said she’d be ready by now, right?”

Shadow, who had been leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, glanced at the door to your room. “She’s probably still getting ready. Give her a minute.”

But Sonic wasn’t convinced. “You sure? I mean, she’s been acting kinda off lately, y’know?”

Shadow’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t know,” Sonic said, frowning. “She’s been… quiet. I mean, more than usual. Like, something’s wrong, but she won’t talk about it. I just get this feeling…”

Shadow’s expression remained impassive, but Sonic’s words struck a chord with him. He had noticed it too. You had been a lot more distant lately, your usual warmth replaced by a cold, almost mechanical detachment. You smiled, but it never reached your eyes. And there were times when Shadow caught you staring off into space, lost in your own thoughts, your expression hollow.

Before Shadow could respond, a loud thud came from inside your room.

Both of them froze.

“What was that?” Sonic asked, his voice suddenly tense.

Shadow was already moving, pushing past Sonic and heading straight for your door. “Something’s wrong.”

He didn’t wait for an answer. Grabbing the handle, he swung the door open with enough force to rattle the frame. The sight that greeted him was worse than anything he had imagined.

You were lying on the floor, motionless, a syringe lying just inches away from your limp hand. Your face was pale, your body trembling as you struggled to breathe. There were tears in your eyes, but your lips were curled into that same, empty smile.

“(Y/N)!” Sonic shouted, rushing to your side. He dropped to his knees beside you, his eyes wide with panic. “What happened?”

Shadow stood frozen in the doorway for a moment, his mind reeling. The sight of the syringe, the state you were in—it all clicked together in an instant, and a cold wave of dread washed over him. His crimson eyes darkened as he stormed forward, kneeling beside you. He grabbed the syringe, inspecting it for a brief moment before realization hit him.

“You’re injecting yourself with poison…” Shadow’s voice was low, dangerous, barely containing his anger. His hand gripped the syringe so tightly, it cracked.

“Why…?” Sonic’s voice was soft now, barely above a whisper. He was still trying to process what he was seeing, his heart pounding in his chest. “(Y/N), why would you…?”

You tried to speak, but the words wouldn’t come. Your body felt like it was shutting down, the poison taking its toll on you. You hadn’t meant for them to find out like this. Not yet. Not until you were ready.

“I… have to…” you rasped, your voice weak and broken. “For Maria…”

Sonic shook his head. “Maria? What are you talking about? This isn’t… this isn’t what Maria would want!"

He looked to Shadow for validation, in which he nodded. "She wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself like this!” Sonic continued.

You coughed, the sound harsh and painful in your throat. “I need to… kill him…”

“Kill who?!” Sonic’s voice was frantic now, desperate. He didn’t understand. He couldn’t understand. “Who are you trying to kill?!”

Shadow already knew. He didn’t need you to explain. His jaw clenched, his hands balling into fists at his sides. “You’re trying to get revenge,” he said, his voice cold and steady. “You’re doing this to yourself to become a weapon. Is that it?”

You didn’t respond. You didn’t need to. The look in your eyes told him everything he needed to know.

Sonic’s gaze darted between you and Shadow, his confusion growing. “Revenge? On who? What’s going on here?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Shadow growled, cutting him off. He looked down at you, his expression hard. “What matters is that she’s killing herself. She’s been poisoning herself to the point of death, and for what? Some misguided sense of revenge?”

Sonic’s face paled as the realization sank in. “No… no, (Y/N), you can’t do this. We can help you. This—this isn’t the way..”

But you weren’t listening. You couldn’t. The poison was numbing everything, your body growing colder by the second. Your vision blurred, and for a moment, you thought you saw Maria standing there in the doorway, smiling at you like she used to.

“I’m… sorry…” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “I… I just want to make things right…”

“You’re not making anything right,” Shadow snapped, grabbing you by the shoulders, shaking you slightly. “You’re throwing your life away! Maria wouldn’t want this—she would never want this!”

Sonic placed his hand on your head, his voice trembling with emotion. “Please, (Y/N)… don’t do this. We can fix this. We can make it better, but you have to stop…”

But the weight of their words was lost on you. All you could think about was Maria—her death, her smile, the way she had been ripped away from you so suddenly. The only thing that had kept you going was the thought of avenging her. And now, they were asking you to let that go.

“I can’t… stop…” you gasped, your body convulsing as another wave of pain hit you. “I can’t…”

Shadow’s grip on you tightened. “You don’t have a choice. You’re not dying. Not like this.”

Without another word, he scooped you up into his arms, carrying you out of the room with Sonic right behind him. His mind raced with a thousand different thoughts, but one thing was clear—he wasn’t going to lose you. Not like he had lost Maria.

Shadow carried you, his mind a whirlwind of chaos. His grip on you was firm, yet gentle, as if he feared that you might slip away entirely. Sonic jogged beside him, his face a mix of concern and urgency, but not the frantic panic he had shown earlier.

Sonic had seen enough crises in his life to know that freaking out wouldn’t help now. Instead, he tried to stay level-headed, even though seeing you in such a fragile state was like a punch to the gut. He was used to quick solutions, running toward danger and fixing things fast, but this wasn’t something he could outrun.

“Shadow, we’ve gotta take her to a hospital!” Sonic said, his voice carrying a sense of urgency but tempered with reason. “She needs real help—this is way beyond us.”

“No.” Shadow’s voice was cold, final. He didn’t even look at Sonic, his focus entirely on you. “We’re not taking her there.”

Sonic skidded to a halt, staring at him. “Are you crazy?! She’s been poisoning herself—she needs to be stabilized!”

Shadow paused, his face unreadable, but his eyes betrayed the deep uncertainty brewing beneath the surface. For the first time in a long while, Shadow didn’t know what to do. It wasn’t the physical state of your body that scared him; it was the complete surrender in your eyes, the look that reminded him of everything he had lost.

“Do you think a hospital can fix this?” Shadow’s voice was low, his gaze dark as he looked down at you. “They can treat her body, but not her mind.”

Sonic’s fists clenched. He wanted to argue, to shout that anything was better than watching you waste away like this, but the hard truth of Shadow’s words sank in. This wasn’t just about treating poison—it was about everything leading up to it. The grief, the pain, the revenge that was eating away at you from the inside.

“So what then?” Sonic asked, his voice quieter now, though still full of determination. “We can’t just sit around and do nothing.”

Shadow’s silence stretched on, and for a moment, Sonic thought that was exactly what he intended. But then, after a long, agonizing pause, Sonic’s eyes lit up with realization.

“Tails,” he said, his voice soft at first, but gaining strength as the idea formed in his mind. “We need to take her to Tails. He’ll know what to do. He’s smart, and he can help without all the questions.”

Shadow blinked, then nodded. Tails was their best bet. The fox was brilliant, and more importantly, he wouldn’t ask too many questions. At least, not the ones that mattered. It wasn’t about explaining everything right now; it was about keeping you alive and giving you a chance to heal—however long that would take.

The trip to Tails’ workshop was tense. Shadow’s usual confidence was fractured, his steps slow and deliberate, as if each one was measured to keep you safe. Sonic tried to keep pace, but his mind was racing. How had things gotten this bad without them noticing? They were supposed to be your friend—supposed to protect you.

When they arrived, Tails was in the middle of fine-tuning one of his gadgets. The moment he saw Sonic and Shadow carrying you, his eyes widened with concern. He didn’t ask any immediate questions, but the sight of you, pale and weak, sent a jolt of worry through him.

“Tails,” Sonic started, his voice unusually serious, “we need your help. She’s… been hurting herself.”

Tails’ eyes flicked to Shadow, searching for confirmation, but Shadow’s face was an unreadable mask. Without another word, Tails motioned for them to bring you inside, setting up his equipment quickly.

“I’ll need to stabilize her first,” Tails said, his voice steady but concerned. “Whatever she’s been using, it’s in her bloodstream. We need to clear it out.”

As Tails worked, Sonic paced restlessly, glancing at you every few seconds. He had questions, but they could wait. Right now, getting you stable was the priority. Shadow stood motionless, his arms crossed, but the tension in his posture was unmistakable. His eyes never left you, and for a moment, Sonic saw something unfamiliar in them—helplessness.

Tails worked quietly, efficiently, using his equipment to begin neutralizing the toxins in your body. Sonic finally spoke after what felt like hours of silence. “Do you think she’ll be okay?”

Tails glanced up briefly, his brow furrowed. “Physically? She’ll recover, but… emotionally? That’s something only time can heal.”

Sonic swallowed hard. “Yeah. I figured.”

Shadow remained silent. He didn’t need to ask about recovery. He knew better than anyone that some wounds never fully healed, especially the ones tied to grief. He had carried Maria’s death with him for years, and no amount of time had ever filled the void she left behind. But unlike you, he didn’t let the death of Maria haunt him anymore. He doesn’t want to be stuck in the past anymore.

As Tails finished the procedure, you began to stir, your eyes slowly opening. You felt heavy, disoriented, but alive. The poison’s hold on you had weakened, but the hollow ache inside remained, deeper than ever.

Sonic was at your side in an instant, his expression filled with relief but tinged with worry. “Hey, you’re awake. How are you feeling?”

You blinked slowly, your mind still clouded by the haze of everything that had happened. “I… don’t know.”

Shadow moved closer, his voice firm but not unkind. “You almost killed yourself.”

Your breath hitched at his blunt words, and for a moment, the weight of what you had done crashed down on you. Tears welled up in your eyes, but you forced them back. Crying wouldn’t bring Maria back. It wouldn’t change anything.

“I had to…” you whispered, your voice shaky. “For Maria…”

Sonic’s face softened, and he knelt beside you, his usual cheerfulness tempered by the seriousness of the situation. “Look, I get it. You miss her. But this? Hurting yourself like this? It’s not right. It won’t change anything.”

You looked away, your heart aching. “I don’t know what else to do. It’s the only way I can make things right.”

Shadow’s voice cut through the silence, dark and full of the same pain you carried. “Revenge won’t bring her back.”

You looked up at him, surprised by the raw emotion in his eyes. Shadow rarely spoke about Maria, but you knew he understood the weight of loss better than anyone. He was living proof of what grief could do to someone, and in that moment, you realized he had never truly healed from it either.

“I know,” you whispered. “But I can’t stop feeling like… like I failed her.”

Sonic placed a hand on your shoulder, his voice softer now. “We’ve all lost people. We’ve all been through stuff that’s hard to move on from. But you have us. We care for you… a lot.”

Shadow didn’t speak, but his silence was telling. He knew the struggle of trying to move on when a part of you was stuck in the past. He wasn’t here to offer easy answers because there weren’t any. Maria’s death had left a scar on him that would never fully heal, and though he had learned to live with it, that part of him was gone forever.

But he was still here. And so were you.

You sat in silence for a long moment, feeling the weight of everything settle in your chest. The grief, the pain, the anger—they were all still there, but for the first time, you realized that maybe you didn’t have to face them alone.

Tails, who had been quietly observing, finally spoke up. “You’re going to need time to heal. And we’ll be here to help you through it.”

You nodded, though you knew healing wouldn’t come easily. The path ahead was uncertain, but you weren’t alone. Sonic’s optimism, Shadow’s quiet strength, and even Tails’ support—it was enough to keep you grounded.

As the hours passed, you realized that your grief for Maria would never fully go away. It would always be a part of you, just as it was a part of Shadow. But you can’t let it consume you. You could heal, slowly, piece by piece, with the support of those around you.

You weren’t sure how long it would take, but you knew now that healing was possible. You had people who cared about you, who wouldn’t let you fall back into the same darkness.

You could learn to live again.