#even if it's.............very obvious what i pulled from

[bi-writes]

What do we think about price x young!Wife reader who is kept away from the team (for obvious reasons) and when she is on base to bring some important files to his office, world collide

I think it would be really cute if she gets mistaken for a recruit

he's not moving fast enough for you.

you roll your window down even more, sticking your head out, and you slide your sunglasses down your nose so you can meet eyes with the muppet standing guard at the gates.

"repeat that for me?"

"you're not on the list," the man repeats. he narrows his eyes at you. "all guest personnel must be approved before they enter. i don't make the rules, but i do enforce them."

you raise a brow. your manicured finger slides down the steering wheel, tracing the leather of it, and you let out a deep breath before laughing humorlessly.

"okay. i need you to get on your stupid radio and get captain john price on there. then, you're going to tell him who exactly is waiting here, and then after he informs you that you will let me through, i'm going to make sure you spend the next two weeks scrubbing fucking toilets." you sit back in your seat. you don't mean to be rude or mean, you're usually very kind and very considerate, but you are about to blow the roof off of your patience after the day you've had, and you just want to drop john's things off and go.

the guard scoffs, picking up his radio. he rolls his eyes at you before he goes back into his little office. after a few minutes, he comes back out. his eyes are on the floor, and he comes up to your window and gives you back your id. you toss it into your purse, and he clears his throat nervously.

"i-i'm so...i-i'm so sorry, mrs. price, i--"

"save it."

you put your car in drive and step on it. the purr of your pretty german car leaves the guard in the dust, and you park haphazard, taking up two spots, but you just grab your purse and john's papers and turn the car off anyways.

you're mrs. john fucking price. you'll park how you please, and they can get over it.

you're dressed more casually. you're wearing dark green cargo pants, a white t-shirt, sneakers, and one of john's army-green jackets. when you see yourself in the reflection of a window, you realize you kind of dressed appropriately for the setting, without even meaning to.

you open the door to the building john texted you about, and you walk in with your sunglasses still on. there's a lot of desks around, offices, an ugly mess of couches around a tv that a bunch of recruits are playing team fortress 2 at. they're whooping and yelling, but you pay them no mind as you follow a sign towards the office number john gave you.

you bump right into a big chest. you stumble backwards, scoffing, and you pull your sunglasses off as you tip your head back and glare up. there's some big, giant bear-man standing in your way, and he isn't moving.

"excuse me," you say firmly. "do we have a problem?"

the big dude tilts his head to the side, like he's sizing you up (which is stupid, since he's probably bigger than anyone). he's wearing a DIY skull mask, something messily sewed and painted with thick fingers, and you really want this halloween-enthusiast to get the fuck out of your way so you can leave as soon as possible.

"we? i don't got a problem."

his voice is deep. all gravel, very low, and his tone is very condescending. you may be smaller than him, but your teeth are sharper.

you're sure of that.

"but you've got one," he continues, narrowing his eyes. "those nails aren't regulation."

"excuse me?"

"you heard me."

"i did, but you must be fucking out of your mind if you think i answer to you."

"listen 'ere," the man spits. "i'm a fuckin' lieutenant, and y'r gonna talk t'me like i'm one before i have y'r arse--"

"get out of my way!" you snap at him. "as far as i'm concerned, i outrank every single idiot in this entire fucking building. i don't care if you're a sergeant, a lieutenant, i don't care if you're fucking royalty! move, or i'll make you, so help me god."

"simon."

at the sound, the bear turns around, stepping aside. when peek around his arm, you see your husband, arms crossed over his chest casually as he leans against the wall. he's got a relaxed smile on his face, boonie hat tipped back a little.

"well, this isn't how i wanted you two to meet," john chuckles.

"what, you know this meathead?" you scoff, and the lieutenant, simon, snarls like a dog at your response.

"simon, this is my wife."

simon steps back from you as if you'll sting him. he swallows, his face relaxing under the mask, and you glare at him. you don't expect an apology from someone like him, but you guess the way he reverts his eyes from you is the equivalent of it. you don't think a man like him ever feels out of place or threatened.

"love, this is my lieutenant."

"the lieutenant."

"quite right."

you let out a harsh breath through your nose. you don't say anything more to simon, just give him your back as you walk past him towards your husband. you don't say anything more to simon; he's saved your husband's life before, so he can be let off easy.

this time at least.

when you lift your hand to give john some papers, simon zeroes in on the giant rock on your left hand, the several carat diamond that sits there.

fuck.

"next time you need something from home, i'm gonna need the red carpet rolled out for me, understand me, john?" you tell him. john smiles, crow's feet deepening, and you narrow your eyes. "say you understand me, john."

"mhm. i understand."

"i don't mean just making sure my name is on some list, i mean an escort and a voss water. in the glass bottle."

"of course, sweetheart."

he bends to kiss you, and you let him. you put a hand under his jaw, thumbing at his beard, and the hat covers the way he lets his tongue slip out and into your mouth. if you didn't have an audience, the taste of tobacco on his tongue would be enough for you to kneel and suck his cock, but he's busy, and you have a hair appointment to get to.

you pull away slowly, touching his bottom lip.

"you better be home in time for dinner," you say. "seven. don't be late."

"won't be late."

his baby blues are so bright, even in the awful fluorescent light. you kiss him again, cupping the back of his neck, and when you pull away, you put your mouth to his ear.

"your office? got ten minutes?"

"no, sweetheart," he murmurs. "don't have it."

"john..." you grip the sides of his tact vest, pouting. "please? please?"

john sighs, shaking his head. he kisses your forehead before nodding behind you, to his lieutenant that still won't leave.

"walk her out, simon. make sure she leaves alright."

"olright."

simon opens your car door for you, and when you get in, you shove your seatbelt into place, angrily starting the car up again. you're having a bad day, and you're horny now.

"goodbye, lieutenant," you say smartly. "by the way, there's some smartass at the front that i told would have to scrub toilets. i trust that you can carry that out for me."

"'ow long?"

"told him two weeks, but i think a day will do just fine."

"'n why's tha'?"

"well, i'm not mad at him anymore, but i'm still a price. and price's follow through on their threats, lieutenant."

you put your sunglasses on, and the window goes back up. simon watches with rapt attention as you pull out with a rev of the engine, and when he glares at you, you smile, raising your hand to flip him off.

the big diamond on your hand blinds him as you drive off.

[parrhesiac]

OK, OK, wait ... what if this is a power inherited from her mother?

We know that Anakin was a latent Force-user, whose skills manifested in ways normal to him, and not weird Jedi things.

Why not Padme? Whose very survival relied upon being able to go undetected? Who absolutely had to be able to pull off "I am my own handmaiden," not to mention "pay no attention to this girl over here" even when there wasn't a blatantly obvious makeup-and-costume Queen acting in the room? Padme, who has a tendency to both hide how much she knows and also bluff her way through situations?

Qui-Gon was impressed by the kind of young boy that maybe he tends to look for in a padawan. And he was very "the Force has put us here and put this boy in our path" about it, but also, like, my dude you have a type. Fandom also has this type, of course, to judge by all of the "Han is a secret Force user" headcanons.

Everyone always goes for the shiny ones, but the power of the Force for persuading people to ignore you and let you do what you want has been canon since the very beginning.

And we also have solid headcanon about Jedi training being an elaborate series of brakes controlling the ability, presumably so Jedi aren't, e.g., just casually mentally influencing everyone all the time; they can wield more conscious power this way, but also, they're trained to do it consciously instead of unconsciously.

I'm certain that Leia and Padme, if this is true, aren't wielding anywhere near their full potential as Force users—but also, of course they would go undetected, it's what they're constantly doing in the Force.

ok so. I've been thinking. what if leia's "thing" is that she's imperceptible in the force. like, she's so innately powerful at shielding, she's just not there. Anakin didn't know padme was having twins because he literally couldn't sense leia's presence. yoda and obi-wan were fine with bail taking leia because they couldn't perceive her thoughts, even as an infant. neither reva nor vader could penetrate her mind. she spent years in the senate alongside palpatine and he had no idea she was force sensitive. the only person who can see leia for who she really is is the one who has been there from the beginning — luke.

[astrow1zar6]

Astro Observations~ 48

Venus square Pluto men tend to have a really weird relationship with women. Can have a big love-hate relationship when it comes to women. I’ve seen these men treat their guy friends with more respect than their partners

Leo sun x Pisces sun mix in friendship is so underrated. They really match eachothers creativity & can inspire eachother a lot art wise

Jupiter in the 1st house makes someone very jolly naturally. Even if they are in a bad mood it rarely shows. Can also make someone pretty tall in a lot of cases (not all)

Cap risings can have very visible bones. Could’ve been told by others to “eat a sandwich “

You can feel more likely to create art or sing when the moon transit is in Pisces (even if you’re not the type to want to do that stuff on the regular).

Venus in the 8th house natives are very into hookup culture. Gets into a lot of unconventional relationships. Not really the types that wanna be “wifed up” I’ve noticed. They just here for a good time fr.

Pisces sun Aries moons are great manifestors (especially with an earth rising to stabilize the energy) with a cap rising for example I can imagine these people to be unstoppable when they have a goal.

Mars in Taurus’s usually prefer slower sex to fast sex. (Unless it’s in the 8th house) they are super sensual and want to enjoy every pleasure to the max. Going too fast can piss them off/leave them unsatisfied.

Venus in 2nd house synastry can have very long make out sessions together. Even if you aren’t comfortable with kissing this aspect will make you want to kiss them for HOURS.

Saturn in the 8th house people on the other hand kinda lack sensuality a lot of the time. They can skip foreplay and go straight to the act. Very “cold” sexual experiences.

Juno in the 1st house people are the best people to marry. Can attract some pretty selfish partners tho unfortunately:(

When a Gemini Venus has a crush on someone it’s like painfully obvious. Everyone usually already knows.

Jupiter in the 8th gives big 🍆 energy

Uranus in the 5th house are rarely ever fully single. The types to go on a lot of dates or dates someone outta nowhere or unexpectedly

Saturn in the 5th house have a natural awkwardness around their crushes

Venus in Libras pull game is so strong, they have so many admirers & ppl who have crushes on them

Having a Venus in retrograde in a detriment sign (Aries/scorpio) can make you come off as really rude to others or super vain

I also notice if not severely afflicted Venus in retrograde natives actually have a higher chance of marrying their soulmates than direct Venus natives

Taurus moons either have very a sloppy basic asf sense of fashion or its super chic & creative as hell no in between.

Lilith dominant women are usually treated like shit by other women a lot. Men can see them as someone they just wanna hook up with. It’s actually really sad what these people go thru.

Most fucked up friendship award goes to Pluto in the 11th house folks. Friends could’ve been really jealous of you or your relationship with other friends. Ur friends could also lack extreme boundaries with you and almost act more like a toxic partner. Friends get super obsessed & possessive of you!

Sun in the 9th house people have a gift usually for learning new languages. Could be the types to speak multiple languages.

Pisces mars can be super lazy. Could be the types to ask you to grab the the remote when it’s right next to them

Jupiter in the 4th house prevents you from being homeless. Regardless of your income you always tend to find a really spacious cute home.

People with a 10th house stellium are more likely to “fall in love” with their career. They are also really love $$.

Sun in the (1st, 5th & 11th) house people usually thrive in big social settings.

Sun in the 2nd house could be the breadwinners of the family. Could’ve been the first to break a poverty generational curse. Usually seen as the ones who “made it out the hood” iyk what I mean.

Venus in 2nd house natives face cards are LETHAL

[thewritetofreespeech]

Megumi that always has a boner/is turned on by his girlfriend reader even in public. It has gotten even worse because it throbs sometimes and he, at times, only has his hands to cover it up, not wanting to make it obvious.

“Oh! Megumi! Look at this one!”

“Yeah…yeah…that’s really cute…” Megumi agreed as he stayed a few paces back from [Y/N] as they bent down to look at one of the new outfits in the window display.

Megumi wasn’t sure what was happening to him. Usually, he was very reserved and controlled with his actions. Even since meeting [Y/N], however, and the two of them started dating, it seemed that his…baser instincts were taking over. Megumi pulled at the bottom of his uniform to try and pull it down further to cover his growing erection.

“You can’t see it from over there, Megumi. And the stitching is really cool!”

Megumi huffed and came closer, which only made his problem worse. Being close to [Y/N], smelling her scent, seemed to drive him crazy and he didn’t know what to do about it. Was this normal? He felt like he was popping a boner every few seconds like he was in middle school. It was embarrassing! “Yeah, that’s pretty cool.”

“Do you think we have time for me to try it on?”

Megumi coughed once as an excuse to bend forward a little as his dick throb with glee at the thought of dressing rooms. “No…no…I think we should head back to campus now.”

“Awww….” Seeing her disappointed made Megumi’s heart throb now. All of this really sucked.

“I’m sure Nobara will come back with you this weekend and you can try it on.”

[Y/N] seemed willing to compromise and turned from the display to hold hands with Megumi. He had a full boner now. Surely anyone could see it if they paid attention, so he tried to discreetly cover it with his hand (which did not help).

Megumi decided, as they walked back to the station, that he was going to have to do something about this. Deep breathing exercises. Meditation. Hell maybe jerking off in the morning would help with his problem. He was willing to try anything at this point….

[satorus-princess]

Late Night Cravings

cw: smutty themes, fem!reader, cunnilingus, overstimulation, dirty talk, praise, petnames (minors please dni)

the lower half of his face was glistening, the smacking of his lips against yours mingling with the heavenly sound of your overstimulated moans. his cerulean eyes were closed in bliss, occasionally opening to glance up at your face contorted in pleasure – your bottom lip captured by your top teeth, eyes rolled back, eyebrows drawn together.

you aren’t sure how long you have been sprawled out on the bed, legs feeling sore due to being held open by his large hands pushing your thighs apart. and you aren’t sure how his jaw isn’t hurting from devouring you, his tongue running up and down, in and out; his lips sucking and kissing. He has drawn out so many delicious orgasms from you that you have lost count.

“stop squirmin’,” he murmurs against your heat, sending vibrations through your core. you whine softly, feeling sensitive to the lightest touches.

“can’t…” you pant, trailing off due to your ability to talk being snatched away after around the fourth orgasm.

“can’t what? can’t stop squirming? or can’t talk? can’t take any more for me?” the smirk is obvious in his husky voice – he knows the answer is “yes” to all of those questions. but he doesn’t seem to care as he uses his index and middle fingers to spread your cunt further out for him, licking up from your entrance to your clit. he rapidly flicks his tongue against the swollen and sensitive bud, making you writhe even more than before. incoherent words strung together into a jumbled sentence leave your lips as one of your hands grasp at the, once pristine, sheets and the other roughly tugs his snowy hair, eliciting a grunt from him. “can’t get enough of you, pretty girl. was craving you all day, all i wanted was to bury my head between these thighs and taste you again and again… and again. fuck, i wanna marry this pussy.”

your silver ring glints in the dim light of the lamp in your shared bedroom as your hand flies to grab at something else – something to ground yourself, to prepare yourself for the next overwhelming climax.

the noises of him eating you out are so obscene – loud slurping and smacking of his lips, the sound of him spitting onto your already wet core, and don’t even mention the squelching when he thrusts two of his fingers inside, the schlop, schlop, schlop. your back arches off of the bed when his fingers stroke your walls and that sweet spot he always immediately finds, whilst alternating between flicking and sucking your clit with his tongue. your mouth falls open in a silent moan, eyes rolled back.

“you gonna cum f’me?” he asks, moving with precision and speed. He stares up at you again, smirking against your pussy as your body shakes and convulses, and feels as if it’s going to explode. “gonna make a mess like the dirty girl you are?”

he suddenly feels your walls contracting tightly around his lithe fingers and a sudden wetness that gushes out of your pussy, making yet another mess on his face and he groans. your release crashed over you so abruptly that even you couldn’t sense it coming, but it left you squirming under his touch and crying out his name. glistening tears run down your flushed cheeks as you try to push him away from your very, very sensitive pussy, but you have no strength left in your body. each of your orgasms gradually made your limbs jelly and your brain mush.

“you really are a dirty girl, huh? such a slut for dirty talk.” he licks his lips clean, his chin still dripping with your juices. he lifts his head to get a good look at you, and when he shuffles up the bed to tower over your panting form, you feel relieved that he’s stopped. “such a pretty girl, too. my pretty girl. with the prettiest pussy.”

his lips mould with yours when he leans down and you weakly kiss him back, tasting yourself on his lips and tongue. you gaze hazily at him once he pulls away and stares down at you with yet another smirk, his lips swollen from the devouring he’s done for hours.

“i hope you know i’m not done yet. i don’t know if my craving is ever going to be satiated.” he trails kisses down your cheek, to your jaw, neck, collarbone. when he gets to your boobs, he sucks and bites and then, kisses the spots he bruised with his marks. he earns a few sighs of delight from you as he continues to move down your body, littering your skin with kisses and marks before he ends up back between your thighs.

“please… can’t take anymore… so sensitive,” you say with a whine when he presses a kiss to your clit. It makes your hips jerk in overstimulation. “no more…”

“oh, baby, but you sound so sweet when you’re all sensitive and overstimulated for me... your whines drive me crazy. i’ve cum in my boxers about two times already, just from eating you out... i wanna live right here, between your thighs.” he moans when he dives back in, licking at your slit to gather your juices on his tongue, tasting you to his satisfaction. he’s addicted and it shows – he looks as blissful as you do and he isn’t gaining any direct pleasure. yet, his boxers are soaked from his own cum.

he’s licking and sucking at your pussy, barely giving you a break to breathe. he thinks you taste heavenly, completely drugged up from your juices smeared across the lower half of his face and his nose, which nudges your clit deliciously.

“too muchhhh…!” you whine. but your pleas and whimpers only give him the drive to keep going.

“one more time… just one more. want this pretty pussy to cum on my face again.” his words are slightly slurred as his lips and tongue pleasure your soaking core. that has been about the third time he’s told you one more time, so you don’t believe his words.

fresh tears stream down your flushed cheeks, your chest heaving with pants. your limbs feel too weak to even push him away, allowing him to have his way with you as he continues to devour you like he can’t get enough. your eyes close, teeth digging into your bottom lip as you try to hold back a scream of overstimulation when the tip of his tongue rapidly flicks over your clit.

“ah, ah, no holding back, pretty girl. let me hear you…” he breathes against your cunt. “doing so good for me, just… one more fucking time, please.” his tongue works overtime trying to make you make another mess on his face; he wants his tongue soaked in your honeyed juices again.

you moan out his name, fingers tightly tugging at his locks again, trying to pull him away but also bringing him closer, not knowing what you want. he groans softly against you, his own eyes rolling back.

“listen to her… so wet, so sweet… fuck, what did i do to deserve such a perfect pussy? she’s singing so sweetly.” he’s delirious, drunk on your cunt, rambling into it as he continues to drag his tongue up and down your slit as if he can’t get enough.

he pulls back slightly to look at your weeping hole winking at him, juices dripping out. it’s as if he’s in a trance, eyes glazed over with love and lust as they glue to the sight.

one of his thumbs comes up to rub small circles on your clit, watching the way it winks at him again. it makes him smirk before he dives back in, this time his tongue moves slowly, taking his time savouring you. the tip of his tongue pushes past your folds and he groans deeply at the way your quivering walls pulse around his muscle. he’s so agile even with his tongue, curling it just right while his nose nudges your over-sensitive clit once again.

you consume his senses and he closes his eyes, enjoying your essence on his tastebuds, the sweet, sweet musk of your pussy, and the sound of your crying walls begging for release as he slowly moves his tongue.

almost as if his body is moving automatically, his ministrations speed up and his thumb rubs firm circles on your clit. you shudder with pleasure, fingers tightening in his hair and the sheets again as your thighs threaten to close around his head but his hands quickly push them back down with a determined grip. his head moves energetically between your thighs, quickly bringing you back to the verge of release and you chant his name as if it’s the only word you know.

“g-gonna… cum… wait… ah!” you stutter and moan. with a few more curls and thrusts of his tongue and circles on your bud, you cum almost explosively. your vision blurs, black dots filling your view as your back arches completely off the bed as a strangled moan of his name leaves your mouth.

“mmm, that’s it, pretty girl. let go for me, give me every last drop.”

who knows if gojo's craving was finally fulfilled.

[dancing-dawn]

Seeing this artwork just makes my brain run wild. I agree with absolutely everything @thedarkdisgrace and if I may add my 2 cents:

My first immediate thought was about the string wrapped multiple times around Dazai's arm and its connection to Akutagawa symbolizing how much power Dazai holds over him and that being a perfect representation of their hierarchy. A gentle effortless tug of his wrist is enough to bring Akutagawa like a dog to him. But Aku holds close to zero meaning or power over Dazai, he can't win in this tug of war and he can't bring him closer by his own will.

Another similar read on the ribbon around Atsushi's throat is how Akutagawa and Kyoka are equally tied to him and the simple act of them pulling away from him, literally and metaphorically, would result in his death. It's fascinating how much this works in the literal sense, too, because Atsushi is most scared of being alone. His ties to people are what keep him alive, yet they're also his biggest weakness, leaving him powerless to the world if left alone (as being made very painfully obvious by the recent developments, good foreshadowing good good).

Atsushi's blind and foolishly naive trust in all the people in his live is both his meaning for life and will be his eventual demise.

His drive and reason to keep living is saving people. He saved Kyoka even when everyone else deemed it impossible. He believes he's able to save Aku too, hence the 6-month promise. He trusted both of them to change, to stop killing, and kept supporting them all the way through. And that alone is enough to give him meaning. If they were to cut their ties with him, he might as well be dead.

And we may also notice Atsushi is the only one who doesn't have thread around his hand, in a sense portraying him as not willing to have power over the others, he's simply letting himself be lead by their hands, being pulled left and right wherever they go because what is he without them.

And coming back to my first point, it's interesting Aku may still be pulled by Dazai's hand, but the string is not on his neck. Dazai is not able to destroy him anymore. Aku's infamous obsession with Dazai's approval may have been what gave meaning to his life, but the lack of it isn't enough to kill him.

Sooo in short my takeaway: lot string around hand = big power/influence; string around neck = vulnerability (which now that I write it down in simple terms seems too obvious lol apologies for the word vomit, it was so much fun to write tho!)

Thread from my twitter about this official art because it’s one of my favorite official anime art. This is actually part 1 because alot of people wanted a soukoku specific/Dazai focused part. So will post that here as well.

Starting off:

They’re gorgeous here but what I really love is the detail of the red thread of fate. More specifically how & where the thread is wrapped for skk & sskk + Kyoka. I’ll start with skk.

When it comes to Soukoku, my loves, Dazai has the thread wrapped around his neck. Chuuya has one end & it’s wrapped around his wrist (the one with the scar that proves he’s human btw), that seems to symbolize he's holding Dazai's life in his hands, at least partially. That's no surprise we all know they're inexplicably linked and fated etc.

Chuuya is always there to save Dazai & Asagiri said he’s the only one who truly understands Dazai. But it's super interesting the other half of Dazai's string that’s wrapped around his neck is first wrapped around his own wrist, before continuing to Aku. This essentially saying Dazai holds his own life in his hands.

Which obviously seems super accurate since we know his is biggest enemy is often his own mind & the hole inside his chest that he has a hard time filling. It’s where his suicidal tendencies come from. But essentially, it seems like Dazai's life is held only by Chuuya & then himself and I love that detail.

This is in contrast to Atsushi, Akutagawa, & Kyoka. The thread is wrapped around Atsushi's throat & Aku & Kyoka both have it around their wrists. Essentially symbolizing *both* Aku & Kyoka have Atsushi’s life in their hands. This seems to showcase both of their importances in Atsushi’s life.

Also other than dead apple, given recent events with Kyoka saving Atsushi in the beginning of the DOA arc & Akutagawa's sacrifice for him later, that red thread being held by them continues making sense.

Also Aku's sacrifice was massive for his development & I hope it is our universes Aku at the end of episode 11 so we can continue exploring that development for himself & his relationship with Atsushi.

The red thread itself is typically to symbolizes those who are destined to be together, regardless of place or time. Which naturally makes sense for soukoku & their “two bodies one soul” situation lol It’s interesting that Atsushi has both Aku & Kyoka linked to him in this sense.

That’s just my take on the art & why it’s one of my favorites.

[heartsforjh]

ʙɪʀᴛʜᴅᴀʏ ɢɪʀʟ

pairings: luke hughes x fem!reader

warnings: none

word count: roughly 2.2k

summary: luke plans a special day for his special girl

a/n: this is my first ever fic that’s actually being posted as a fic and not just changed into one later! it’s made in honor of my sweet emmy’s birthday TODAY! happy birthday @emsdevs ! 🧡

The sun shines through your window curtains, spilling soft light into your bedroom, as gentle kisses are peppered onto your face. Stretching your arms and legs, you try your best to shake off sleep, only to hear your boyfriend, Luke, let out a small chuckle.

“Good morning, birthday girl,” he says softly, his voice tender as he looks down at you. He leans closer, covering your face in even more kisses, making you giggle sleepily.

“Shhh,” you sigh, settling back down and shutting your eyes, clinging to whatever bit of sleep you can preserve.

You don’t need to look to know Luke is offended by that, his tone making it obvious. “Shhh? It’s your birthday, baby. You can’t go back to sleep! I’ve been waiting all morning for you to wake up, and now you’re already trying to go back to bed?”

“Lu, you’re the one who woke me up,” you mumble, stifling a yawn. “I didn’t do that on my own.”

He huffs, dramatically. “Yeah, because I have a surprise for you! You have to get up!”

Before you can protest, he grabs your hands and carefully pulls you up into a sitting position, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. You groan, looking up at him with pleading eyes.

“Don’t give me that look, baby. I can’t let you sleep through your birthday,” he insists, brushing your hair back from your face.

When Luke finally gets you up and moving he’s buzzing with excitement. He slowly guides you out of the room and across the apartment, using his hands to to cover your eyes.

Based on the route you’re moving, you can only assume he’s leading you into the dining room. He shifts to covering your eyes with just one hand, fumbling around for a moment before returning his stray hand to your eyes.

“Okay, baby. Are you ready for this?” he asks, his voice filled with eagerness.

You laugh at how much more elated he is than even you are for your own surprise. “I’m ready for this.”

He pulls his hands away, immediately craning his neck to watch your reaction. When you open your eyes you see a pile of questionably wrapped gifts sitting on the table. Your heart instantly melts, as a warm smile spreads across your face.

“Luke… babe. You’re so sweet,” you say, pouting slightly at his thoughtfulness. You reach out your arms, and he wastes no time pulling you into a tight hug.

He’s absolutely beaming with pride, thrilled that he was able to make you happy. “You can only open one of them right now, though. Is that okay?”

“One?!” you exclaim, surprised.

“Yeah, just one. It’s special for today. You can open the rest later tonight,” he explains nervously. “I promise it’s worth it.”

Your smile softens when you notice his nerves. “Of course, babe. I can wait. But let me open the one I’m allowed to now, please!”

He laughs, grabbing a floppy, rectangular gift wrapped in beige paper with a pretty bow.

“Ooh, I think I know what this is!” you say innocently, reaching for it.

Luke immediately shakes his head. “Hush. No, you don’t. Pretend you don’t, baby.”

You’re amused but also feel a little bad for pointing out that it’s not much of a surprise. So naturally, you decide to play along. “I’m kidding. I have no idea what it is.”

“Wait, really?” he asks, genuinely believing you’re clueless over this suspiciously clothes-shaped gift.

You give an innocent nod, trying not to laugh as his face lights up. “Mhm.”

When he finally hands it over, you begin unwrapping the gift, your smile widening with each tear of the paper. As the contents come into view, you see a cute outfit—the very same one you sent Luke months ago during your rant about needing to revamp your wardrobe.

“I bought it a while ago,” he admits, rubbing the back of his neck. “I was hoping you wouldn’t buy it for yourself… or stop liking it before now. Do you… like it?”

You place a hand on his cheek, leaning in to press two meaningful kisses to his lips. “I love it. Thank you, baby.”

His shoulders relax with relief. “I’ve got more things planned. We’re gonna have a good day today.”

You fold the outfit neatly, smiling up at him. “We have a good day every day.”

“Alright well, today’s going to be an extra good day,” he corrects himself, planting a kiss on your cheek. “Oh yeah, and don’t get dressed for the day yet.”

“Lu… you know we could’ve made this from scratch, right?” you ask curiously, picking up the box of cake mix and turning it over to read the instructions.

Luke laughs, shaking his head as he scrolls through a recipe on his phone, and shrugs. “No way. It would’ve been all messed up, baby. We don’t know how to do that!”

You raise a brow at him, amused. “We? You mean you don’t know how to do that! I do. We are not the same buddy,” you tease, gently taking his phone from him, you power it off and set it aside. “Look babe, I got this.”

He chuckles, loving your confidence. “Oh yeah? You gonna impress me with your baking skills?”

“Yup,” you say, as cocky as possible.

He leans against the counter, crossing his arms as he watches you get to work. “Alright, then. Show me how it’s done.”

The kitchen quickly fills with laughter and playful banter as you take your chance to boss him around. Luke’s “help” mostly consists of him sneaking tastes of the batter and throwing in the occasional ridiculous comment that makes you laugh so hard your sides ache.

“Um… are you sure an egg goes in there? Like, the full wet egg yolk?” he asks, peeking over your shoulder with a concerned expression.

You pause, staring at him in disbelief. “Babe… you cannot be serious right now. Have you never made a cake before?”

“What do you mean have I never made a cake before? Of course not. Nobody just makes cakes, honey,” he shoots back, defensively.

You burst into laughter, completely baffled. “Lukey, yes they do! People make cakes at home all the time.”

“I don’t think so, but it’s your birthday so I’ll just act like I believe you,” he nods.

You playfully roll your eyes, an amused smile stuck to your face. “I guess I’ll take it.”

“That’s not fair! My brain is tired!” Luke whines, throwing his head back against the headboard dramatically.

You can’t help but laugh at how worked up he’s getting. “Babe, baking a cake was not that hard! Your brain is fine!”

Luke gives you a wide-eyed, incredulous look. “Not hard? What about decorating it? That was the hardest thing I’ve done in my life. Be honest—that was hard!”

You shrug playfully, fighting back a grin. “You’re the one who wanted to play this game, so no excuses.”

“I only wanted to play because it’s your birthday and I know you love it,” he says, his voice taking on a pitiful edge as he tries to justify his sixth Scattergories loss in a row. “I just wanted to make sure you have fun.”

You laugh even harder, shaking your head at his misfortune. “Then quit whining and keep playing, crybaby!”

“No cause you’re just gonna beat me all over again, and have no remorse about it!” he says, deadpanning. “Actually, let’s go shower and get ready for dinner instead. It’s almost time for what I have planned anyway.”

Your teasing tone quickly turns excited. “Ooooh! I’m so ready! What’s for dinner?”

He gets up off of the bed, refusing to give anything away. “It’s a surprise baby. But you can wear your new little outfit… gonna look so pretty.”

After a relaxing shower, slipping on your new outfit, and a short car ride filled with Luke chatting about everything and nothing all at once, you finally arrive at the restaurant he’s been so secretive about.

As you step inside, your breath catches. The restaurant is stunning—soft lighting casts a warm glow across the elegant decor, and everything feels effortlessly luxurious.

“Luke, this place is so beautiful,” you say, looking around in awe.

He smirks, pleased with you reaction. “Not as beautiful as you.”

You roll your eyes, laughing. “Please, don’t start with the corny lines right now.”

“I’m not being corny. I’m being nice! You look amazing,” he says, his gray eyes scanning you with pride.

You’re touched by his words, and you lean into his side. “Aww, thank you. You can be so sweet sometimes.”

“Sometimes?” he teases, placing a hand over his heart in mock offense.

“Don’t ruin it for yourself,” you reply with a laugh as he leads you to the host stand.

Once Luke verifies the reservation, the host leads you to a cozy, elegant table. He pulls your chair out for you—earning another playful “aww” from you—and then sits down across the table with a big smile on his face.

“Okay, baby. So, me and the team ate here once, and I’ve been looking for an excuse to bring you. The food is so good,” he starts, his tone adorably enthusiastic. “I already know what’s good on the menu. Do you want me to help you pick?”

You nod, amused by how much thought he’s put into this. “Sure, tell me everything. I trust you.”

That confirmation is all the encouragement he needs. Luke launches into a passionate rant about the menu, describing every dish he tried at his dinner with the team in detail. You listen with a fond smile, soaking in just how happy he looks. After minutes of careful consideration, you both decide what you want to order.

“You’re gonna love this, baby,” he promises, leaning back with a satisfied smile.

The two of you pass the time with easy conversation and laughter, though Luke’s mood grows increasingly impatient every time a waiter walks by with food that isn’t yours.

When your meals arrive Luke doesn’t even touch his own, watching for your reaction. You take a bite and you can gladly say that Luke hyping this place up was not an exaggeration. The food is incredible, but honestly, it could be the worst thing you’ve ever tasted and you’d never tell him so he could keep that proud smile on his face.

The moment you step back into the apartment, a new wave of excitement rushes through you. The cake you both worked on earlier that’s in the fridge, and the pile of gifts sitting on the table are practically calling your name.

“Let’s do uh… cake first,” Luke announces, heading straight to the fridge. He carefully pulls out the cake, still looking pleased with his lopsided frosting job. “Sit down, baby,” he says, gesturing towards the dining table.

You listen, sitting down at the table, and watching as he sets the cake down in front of you. Then, with a sly grin, he opens a drawer and pulls out a pack of birthday candles.

“Oh no, Luke, you did not,” you laugh, already knowing where this is going.

“Oh, I did,” he says, sticking the candles into the cake with zero regard for symmetry. As he lights them, he pulls a chair up next to you and plops down with a grin. “But you have to sing with me. It’s already awkward enough, I can’t do it alone.”

You giggle at his straightforwardness. “Okay. We’ll sing it together. Team effort.”

With that you both painfully start a hilariously off-key rendition of “Happy Birthday.” You can barely get through the song without bursting into laughter, but somehow you manage. By the time the final, awful, note rings out you’re both grinning like fools.

“Now make a wish, baby.” Luke says faintly, resting his chin on his hand as he watches you.

You close your eyes for a moment, letting yourself soak in the pure joy of the day. When you open them, you blow out the candles and glance over at Luke, who looks completely pleased with himself.

He leans in, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek. “You know I love you, right?”

You turn to face him, smiling as you reach for his hand. “I know. And you know I love you too, right?”

His thumb strokes gently over your knuckles as his eyes search yours. “I do know that. You have a good day?”

The question feels almost silly to ask, considering all the thought he’s put into making this day special. From the moment you woke up to now, every thing he’s done has made you feel more loved and appreciated than ever.

You nod, your heart full. “I had the best day. Thank you for everything, Luke.”

He pulls you into his arms, holding you tightly against his chest. “Thank you for being born,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

tags: @beenucks @mainly-miracle @lukey-pookie-hughes43 @emsdevs @puckmedude @joesnumerouno @alex-wotton @r0wdymaize86 @macklin-celebrini-71 @randomcuboidshape @when-im-with-you @quillycrow @rainyvalentines @alwaysclassyeagle

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[inkedinshadows]

if ur still taking requests may I please ask for prompt #22 with cassian? it can be fluffy or smutty or both 🥰 thanks love ur blog btw!! 🩷🩷🩷

Starved For Your Touch

Pairing: Cassian x f!reader

A/N: Hi anon! Thank you so much <33 I wanted to include smut but inspiration for fluff found me first! I love drama queen cassian, hope you enjoy it 💕

Prompt: "You're such a tease today."

Warnings: none really, just a very tiny short piece of angst if you really squint

Word count: 1.5k

You had recently realized just how much Cassian craved physical contact, and your new favorite pastime was denying him of it. You wanted to see how far you could push him before he snapped.

Apparently, just a day.

You chose a short summer dress, fully aware of the way it hugged your curves and made your legs look longer. Cassian wouldn’t be able to keep his hands off you, and you were determined not to let him touch you.

When you walked into the living room, he was lounging on the couch with Rhys and Mor. You greeted them with a smile, and Cassian’s face lit up when he saw you. Without interrupting the conversation, he reached for you, but you stayed just a few inches out of reach, merely brushing his hand with a teasing smile as you made your way to the kitchen.

When you walked back out a few minutes later, you let him grab your hand and pull you closer. You knew he wanted you to sit on his lap. You both loved it. But today you didn’t, opting instead to settle on the couch beside him. He frowned but didn’t comment.

“You look lovely, sweetheart,” he said instead. “This dress suits you.”

“It really does,” Mor chimed in from her armchair. “Which means your hands will be all over her in three… two…”

You and Rhysand chuckled, but Cassian grinned. He didn’t even try to deny it.

“Actually, I have to go,” you announced, cutting the moment short.

Cassian stilled, his arm half-lifted as he was about to drape it over your shoulders. “You’re leaving already?”

You nodded. “Yeah, I’m going shopping with Elain, remember?” You patted his knee before standing and looking at Mor. “Want to join us?”

Her smile widened. “You know it.”

You leaned down to kiss Cassian, just a brush of your lips against his—more a promise of a kiss than an actual one. He tried to keep you there, to deepen the kiss, but you pulled back.

“Always eager for more,” you murmured, and booped his nose. “I’ll see you for dinner.”

Following Mor to the front door, you turned back to wave at Cassian, catching the stunned expression plastered on his face.

Rhys just looked amused.

~~~~~~

Cassian was waiting when you returned home a few hours later.

Mor and Elain had already come back, but you’d stayed behind to buy one last item—a flimsy piece of lingerie you thought he might like.

“How long have you been standing there?” you asked as the door closed behind you. “Not since the girls came back, I hope.”

“I saw you arrive through the window.” Cassian pushed off the wall and stalked toward you, an accusatory finger pointed in your direction. “I have a bone to pick with you.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at what you assumed was supposed to be an intimidating expression. It never worked on you. He could be intimidating when he needed to—he was a warrior and a general, after all. But when he pretended, his lips jutted out slightly in a pout and a small crease appeared between his brows.

“And what is it?” you inquired, trying to walk past him and up the stairs. You were carrying a few full bags and just wanted to drop them off in your room.

Cassian’s arm shot out to block your path. “You’re not going anywhere, sweetheart. Not until you tell me why you haven’t kissed me all day.”

You cocked your head. “I have kissed you today,” you retorted.

He scoffed. “Only three times and they were just little pecks.” Then, as if it was obvious, he added, “Which don’t really count.”

“Oh, you poor big baby,” you chuckled. “What if I’m just saving the best for last because I bought something I know you’ll like?”

Cassian’s eyes darted to the bags in your hands. He tried to peek inside, but everything was neatly wrapped. He looked back at you. “Something like…?”

You smirked. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Before he could stop you, you slipped under his arm and headed for the stairs. “I’ll leave these in our room,” you warned as you began the short climb. “And if I find out you snooped around, I’ll return the surprise.”

Cassian’s outraged gasp followed you up the stairs. You could practically see him clutching his chest, as if your words had struck him like a dagger to the heart. “When have I ever done something like that?”

“Cassian,” you scolded, not even bothering to turn around.

“Alright, alright.” You could hear the smile in his voice. “I promise.”

~~~~~~

When you joined the others downstairs, some were already gathered around the table, their choice of seating casual as always. But Cassian had saved you a spot beside him, and as you approached, you leaned in to kiss his cheek.

“Thank you, my love,” you murmured, making sure to brush your fingers along his wing as you settled into your chair.

He inhaled sharply, drawing a pointed look from Amren on his other side. She merely rolled her eyes before turning back to her conversation with Azriel.

“Sorry,” you quipped, feigning innocence. “I didn't mean to.”

Cassian narrowed his eyes. “What is going on?”

You shrugged off his question, focusing on filling your plate. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

His gaze remained fixed on you, tracking your every moment. Holding back a laugh was harder than you’d expected, but you schooled your features into an unreadable expression.

“You’re such a tease today,” he muttered. “The dress, the kisses, now my wing…” His eyes darkened slightly as he watched you take the first bite of your food. “And this morning, when you got me so worked up only to slip out of bed before I could—”

“Cassian.”

Both of you looked up. Rhysand sat directly across from you, his brows raised. It was the same look he wore when waiting for someone to admit they had done something wrong.

“What?” Cassian scowled.

“If you really can’t avoid discussing your personal life during family dinner, at least keep your voice down.” Everyone was looking at you now, but Rhys went on, an amused smirk appearing on his lips. “Besides, I’m sure Y/N has a good reason for keeping you high and dry.”

Laughter rippled around the table, but Cassian only glowered. With a smile, you placed your hand on his thigh, hidden from the others’ view. “I’m sorry,” you murmured, pressing another soft kiss to his cheek. “I’ll make it up to you.”

He simply grumbled, “Oh, you will.”

The rest of the dinner passed uneventfully. Your hand lingered on Cassian’s leg, but he paid it little attention. He seemed distant, glancing toward Azriel more than once throughout the meal. The Shadowsinger merely raised an eyebrow each time their eyes met.

Had you gone too far? Maybe you shouldn't have teased him in front of the whole family.

When dinner ended and everyone moved into the sitting room for drinks, you watched as Cassian left without a word. You made to follow him to apologize—for real this time—but Azriel pulled you aside before you could.

His expression was so grim that you paused before you could ask him to talk later.

“What’s wrong?” you asked instead.

Azriel hesitated. “I’m worried about Cassian. Is everything okay between you two?”

Your heart sank. Of course Azriel had noticed, but for him to be concerned enough to pull you aside… maybe you had really pushed Cassian too far. You needed to talk to him as soon as possible to explain things.

“No, Az, it’s fine,” you started, trying to explain. “It’s just that I—”

Your words turned into a startled scream as two strong arms suddenly wrapped around you, lifting you off the ground.

Cassian’s laughter boomed in your ears as he crushed you to his chest. “Got you!”

Your hands flew to his forearms, your heart pounding. “What… what are you doing?” you mumbled, still trying to make sense of what was happening.

Azriel’s lips curled up into a smirk. “Good luck with him,” he said before slipping away to join the others in the sitting room.

“What…?”

Cassian began striding toward the stairs, still holding you from behind, your feet dangling uselessly above the floor.

“You shouldn't have let your guard down, sweetheart,” he murmured in your ear. “You really thought you could tease me all day and get away with it?”

Azriel. He had distracted you just long enough for Cassian to sneak up behind you.

Cassian set you down on the first step, only to spin you around and scoop you up again. “Now I’ve got you, and you’re not going anywhere. You have a whole day to make up for.”

You wrapped your arms and legs around him as he started up the stairs. A breathless laugh left your lips. “So you’re not mad at me?”

“Worse than that.” He grinned, his hands sliding from your thighs to your ass, squeezing playfully. “I’m touch-starved. So why don’t you start fixing that?”

This time, you obliged him, cupping his face and pressing your lips to his before he even reached your bedroom door.

Taglist: @mrsjna @navyblue-eternity @paintedbyshadows @highladyandromeda @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @azrielsmate3 @mollygetssherlockcoffee @mirandasidefics @tinystarfishgalaxy @cynthiesjmxazrielslover @anarchiii @readinggeeklmao @anneas11 @azrielslittleslut @lilah-asteria @lorosette @azrielsrealmate @pey2618 @mellowmusings @k8r123-blog @daughterofthemoons-stuff @minnieoo @saltedcoffeescotch @georgiadixon @quiet-because-it-is-a-secret @ivy-34

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[heliosunny]

Yandere!Dazai x Reader

The first room

A sharp, throbbing pain pounds at the back of your skull as you regain consciousness. The world feels unsteady, like you’ve been submerged underwater, your senses muffled and slow to return. Your fingers twitch against the cold, uneven ground, stone, rough and aged. The air is thick with dust, the scent of damp wood and something metallic lingering faintly.

You blink, your vision struggling to focus in the dim light. Shadows stretch across the walls, cast by a single, flickering bulb hanging overhead. The room is small—four walls of old stone, a heavy wooden door with an iron handle, and a handful of objects scattered across the floor.

Your breath catches as you sit up, a wave of dizziness washing over you. “Where… am I?”

A groan breaks the silence.

Your gaze snaps to the other side of the room, where another figure stirs. A man, draped in a long brown trench coat, sprawled on the ground with an arm flung over his face. His dark, wavy hair is messily tousled, strands sticking to his skin as he exhales slowly.

Then, his fingers twitch. His breathing quickens.

He jolts upright with a sharp inhale, his head swiveling around before his eyes- deep brown, almost unreadable in the dim light, land on you.

For a long moment, the two of you simply stare at each other.

Then, he exhales a shaky laugh, raising a hand to rub his temple. “Well, this is quite the wake-up call” he murmurs. His voice is smooth, laced with a tired amusement that feels strangely unfitting given the circumstances.

You swallow, your throat dry. “Who… are you?”

His smile falters.

“I was hoping you’d tell me” he admits, his brows furrowing slightly. His gaze flickers to the locked door, then to the scattered objects around the room. “I don’t remember a thing.”

Neither do you.

The realization sends a jolt of unease through your chest. Your mind is blank, no recollection of how you got here, no fragments of a life beyond this cold, unfamiliar room. It’s as if everything before this moment has been wiped clean.

The man watches you carefully, his head tilting. Despite the situation, there’s something unnervingly relaxed about him.

He hums thoughtfully. “Well, we’re trapped, we have no memories, and judging by that locked door, I’d say we need to work together if we want to get out of here.”

Your eyes flick to the door. He’s right, there’s no obvious way out. The only things in the room are an old wooden desk, a bookshelf, a rusted filing cabinet, and scattered puzzle pieces on the floor.

You press a hand to your forehead, frustration bubbling up. “This doesn’t make sense…”

“Ah, but that’s what makes it fun” he muses, pushing himself to his feet. He stretches lazily, as if shaking off the remnants of sleep, before flashing you a lopsided grin. “What do you say, partner? Shall we escape together?”

You hesitate. There’s something about him that unsettles you—a sharpness behind his gaze, a too-casual ease in the way he carries himself. But you don’t have a choice. You need to get out of here.

“…Fine,” you mutter, standing. “Let’s figure this out.”

His grin widens.

“Now that’s the spirit.”

Dazai, if that was even his real name, proved to be sharp, his eyes flitting over every inch of the room with an almost playful curiosity.

“Hmm… This place has a very ‘abandoned mystery novel’ aesthetic, don’t you think?” he muses, brushing dust off a wooden desk. “Perhaps we were detectives, kidnapped by an enemy to keep us from solving their grand scheme! Oh, the drama of it all~”

You let out a slow breath, crouching near a bookshelf. “Less speculation, more searching.”

He chuckles. “How serious! You’re either very determined or very used to dealing with nonsense.”

“Maybe both” you mutter, running your fingers along the wooden shelf. The books are covered in dust, except for one, its spine slightly misaligned, as if it had been pulled out and hastily shoved back.

You slide it free. Click.

Something inside the wall shifts.

Dazai perks up instantly. “Oh? Now that’s interesting.”

A panel in the wall creaks open, revealing a small compartment. Inside, a brass key rests on a velvet cushion.

You glance at him, a triumphant smirk tugging at your lips. “Guess I’m the better detective.”

His eyes twinkle with amusement. “Oh? Are we competing now? My, my, how exciting.”

Ignoring him, you grab the key and move to the locked door. The metal handle is cool under your fingers as you slide the key into place and twist.

Click

The lock releases.

You exchange a glance with Dazai before you push the door open.

The second room

The second room is slightly larger, with dim candlelight flickering against stone walls. The air is heavier here, thick with an odd mix of old paper and something faintly metallic. A round table sits in the center, cluttered with scattered notes and an hourglass filled with black sand.

Dazai whistles. “Ohh, this looks ominous.”

You pick up one of the papers. It’s a riddle, scrawled in elegant but uneven handwriting:

“A thing that breathes but does not live, Its time is measured, yet it stands still. It speaks no words but tells all truths. What am I?”

You frown. “A clock?”

Dazai hums. “Mm, close, close~ But not quite.”

You glance at the hourglass. The black sand inside is unsettling, as if it’s swallowing the dim light around it. “It’s an hourglass, isn’t it?”

Dazai claps his hands together. “Ding ding ding! My dear Watson, you truly are brilliant.”

Rolling your eyes, you turn the hourglass over.

The walls tremble. A hidden compartment slides open, revealing a new passageway.

Dazai chuckles, stuffing his hands into his coat pockets. “You know, if we weren’t in a life-or-death situation, I’d quite enjoy this little game.”

“…It doesn’t feel like a game.” you murmur. Something about this place unsettles you, not just the eerie puzzles, but the way they seem almost tailored to you. As if someone knew exactly how your mind worked.

Dazai hums in thought, then nudges your shoulder lightly. “Don’t make that face, partner. We’re in this together, remember?”

You glance at him, his usual lazy smile still in place. But there’s something else in his expression now, something unreadable.

You nod slowly. “Yeah… together.”

Neither of you notice the way his fingers tighten slightly in his pockets.

The third room

The third room is the strangest yet. It’s filled with mirrors—tall, narrow ones lining the walls, their reflections slightly warped. A single piece of paper is pinned to the farthest mirror.

Dazai steps forward first, but as he moves past one of the mirrors, he freezes.

“…Oh?” His voice is soft, almost too quiet.

You turn toward him. “What?”

He stares at his own reflection, his usual humor wiped away. His expression is unreadable, his fingers twitching at his sides.

You frown and step up beside him, only to feel your breath catch.

The reflection looking back at you… isn’t quite right.

Your face is the same, but your expression in the mirror is off. The mirrored version of yourself stands too still, eyes slightly dull, posture unnaturally relaxed. And Dazai’s reflection, his mirrored self—isn’t smiling.

Dazai lets out a slow chuckle. “Now this is interesting.”

You swallow, forcing yourself to focus. You rip the note from the mirror and unfold it.

“The closer you look, the less you see. The moment you remember, it will all make sense.”

Your hands tighten around the paper. “What the hell does that mean?”

Dazai tilts his head, his gaze still locked on his reflection. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

For a moment, the air in the room feels heavier, suffocating. Then, Dazai suddenly grins again, stepping back as if nothing happened. “Well, no time to waste! Onward, my dear Watson!”

He strides ahead, leaving you staring at the mirrors for a second longer.

Something about that reflection… felt wrong.

And deep down, you can’t shake the feeling that you’re missing something important.

The room is suffocating. The flickering candlelight warps your reflection, stretching it unnaturally across the mirrors lining the walls. Your stomach churns with unease as you stare at your own face- still, unmoving, too perfect in the glass.

Dazai hasn’t looked away from his reflection.

His usual lopsided smile is gone. His body is eerily still, his hands slack at his sides. The weight of something unspoken hangs between you, thick as fog.

A strange, suffocating silence fills the space.

You try to shake it off, turning your attention back to the note in your trembling hands.

“The closer you look, the less you see. The moment you remember, it will all make sense.”

You lick your lips, your voice barely above a whisper. “Dazai… what do you think this means?”

He finally moves, his fingers ghosting over the glass, his reflection distorting beneath his touch. “It means,” he murmurs, voice uncharacteristically low, “that something isn’t right.”

You take a step toward him. “What do you—”

The reflections move.

Not in a way they should. Not in a way that makes sense.

Your breath catches in your throat as the mirrored versions of you and Dazai shift—not following your movements, but acting of their own accord. Your reflection tilts its head, lips parting slightly as if whispering something. Dazai’s mirrored self simply stands there, shoulders tense, fists clenched at his sides.

Then—the mirrored Dazai turns to look at you.

Your real Dazai does not.

Every instinct in your body screams at you to move, to run, to do anything—but your feet feel like they’ve been rooted to the ground.

Your reflection steps forward, pressing a hand against the glass. It smiles. Not at you, but past you.

The note in your hands trembles. “Dazai,” you whisper. “Something is wrong.”

He chuckles, but there’s no humor in it. His fingers twitch against his coat. “Oh, my dear, brilliant partner… That’s the funny thing, isn’t it?” His voice drops, barely above a breath. “Everything has been wrong from the start.”

You whip around to face him, but he’s already moving.

A hand seizes your wrist, fingers tightening just enough to keep you still. His grip isn’t bruising, but there’s something final about it, like he’s made a decision neither of you can take back.

You feel your pulse hammering beneath his touch. “Dazai—”

He turns his head slightly, just enough for you to see his face.

And for the first time since waking up in this place, you realize—

He knows.

He’s known this entire time.

He lets out a slow, shaky laugh, his grip on you steady as a vise. “Isn’t it strange?” he murmurs. “I didn’t remember a thing. Not my past, not why we were here. But the second I saw you…” His eyes darken. “…I knew I couldn’t let you go.”

Your breath catches in your throat. “What—”

The mirrors tremble.

Your reflection tilts its head again, lips parting in silent words. Behind you, the mirrored Dazai slowly, deliberately raises a hand—reaching out.

Dazai exhales, the sound almost reverent. “I built this place, didn’t I?” His voice is barely above a whisper. “I made it. I planned every detail. And yet, I forgot—until now.”

Your pulse pounds in your ears. “Dazai, let me go.”

“Why would I?”

The mirrors shatter.

The room plunges into darkness.

And all you hear is Dazai’s voice, whispering in your ear—

“This was always meant to be just us.”

[matchpointfaist]

won't you save me? ⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺

sheltered art x flirty reader pt ii

the second time art saw you, you were clean from your usual messy makeup, your hair pulled into a bun and a pink hoodie covering the frame he'd become uncomfortably familiar with. you had a coffee in one hand and a vape in the other, looking irritated and frazzled and not at all how he'd seen you the week prior.

he must have been too lost in thought to watch where he was going, or maybe you had him under some sort of trance, but next thing he knew his shirt was covered in iced coffee, and you were looking up at him with wide eyes, apologies spilling from your lips in record time.

"oh! oh, gosh, no, it's alright," he rambled, the cold liquid slicking his shirt to his chest. "it's my fault, i wasn't paying attention-" his breath caught as you pulled the hoodie over your head, leaving you in a lace trimmed tank top, much tighter than the pink fabric had been. just as he started to gain some composure, your hands were on him, blotting his shirt with your jacket like it was the most obvious solution in the world.

"i'm such a clutz," you laughed regretfully, wiping his shirt down, "i am so sorry," "it's okay!" his voice was suddenly hoarse, his face hot and hands shaking, "i can clean it up, don't ruin your hoodie," "i don't mind," and there it was- that smile that weakened his knees, the one he'd seen you giving all the boys at that stupid frat party, this time directed at him. and oh god, he was fucked.

"you're art, right?" you asked, pulling the hoodie away to survey the condition of his t shirt, "donaldson?" "yeah!" it came out quicker than he would've liked, "uh, yes, that's me. i didn't know we knew each other,"

"oh, i try to make a habit of knowing all the tennis boys," he could've sworn you were teasing him, "especially the blonde ones," "w-why's that?" he borderline squeaked, "do you like tennis, i mean?"

"sure, somethin like that," you grinned, and dear god, you winked at him, "cute necklace,"

and then, when art thought it couldn't get any worse, your black fingernails were on his silver crucifix, your eyes inspecting it curiously, "you christian?"

"catholic," he nearly choked out, "i- it's a crucifix, when they nailed him to the cross-" "i know what a crucifix is, donaldson," you rolled your eyes, but your smile was back; oh god, your smile.

"well i have to get to class," his heart was pounding, the tent in his sweats threatening to give him away, to expose him and all his impure thoughts and fantasies- your hand was on his arm. and he was so fucking gone.

"you should call me sometime," you said softly, your eyes all wide and sweet and your lashes were so long and oh god, there he was, thinking about your on your knees again. "i don't have your number," was all he managed, his breath stuck in his tightening throat.

"give me your phone," it was like a command, like you were controlling his actions, because before he could even think, you were typing your number into his cell and passing it back to him with another wink.

"see you, artie," you grinned, patting his shoulder, "oh, and you might wanna do some extra praying to make up for all that," you giggled as your eyes fell to his thighs, to the obvious tent, to the very thing he'd been so desperate to hide.

before he could protest, or make some last ditch excuse, you were gone, the smell of your perfume lingering enough to nearly make his mouth water.

he watched you go, each sway of your hips adding to the tension, adding to the twisted longing he felt for you.

that night, he hovered over your contact, debating what he'd even say to you. 'hey, it's art. i think i'm in love with you.' 'hi! it's art. i jerked off to you last week.' 'hey, it's art donaldson. you make me question my faith.' finally, 'hey, it's art, from earlier.'

your reply came minutes later, the vibration off his phone interrupting his nightly prayer, and he tried to ignore the guilt as he paused his talk with god to begin his arguably more important talk with you.

'hi, art from earlier.' you'd sent, 'whatcha doin?'

'fantasizing about you.' 'just getting ready for bed. you?'

'same.' and then there it was, and he felt sick, he felt restless and needy and depraved and you were on his screen, a selfie of you in your silk pajamas, your hair down just barely covering your chest and his own chest was growing so very tight, his breathing restricted, his eyes taking in every single detail.

'oh.' was all he could manage to reply, shifting uncomfortably in his boxers, his skin flushed, 'goodnight then.'

'night, artie :) hope you handled your little problem from earlier.'

oh, he'd handle it. god, he wished you could handle it for him.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Sparkle in my Eye 1

Warnings: non/dubcon, stalking, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Captain Syverson

This AU is called Watcher Anonymous and will include different series for different characters. This is our introduction to Syverson and Gem.

Summary: there's more growing in the garden than flowers.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

“Oh, I’m just getting ready—yeah, yeah, we can go tonight.” Her voice trickles down from the open doors of her balcony. 

Sy wipes a sheet of sweat from his brow and snips another thick stem with the pruners. He nearly catches the fingertips of his thick gloves. He’s working off of instinct rather than focus. He’s entwined in her conversation, though the other side he only catches pieces. 

“Ew, Margo, please, you know I'm not doing that. The kind of guys that take you home aren’t what I’m looking for,” Gem scoffs and sets something down. “Oof, I cannot get my hair to behave!” 

“You look fine,” the muffled response comes from her phone speaker. 

He knows she does. She always looks perfect. He pulls away a dried out stem and drops it in the clutter. It’s a nice day out but the sun is burning through his shirt. It’s like fire on the back of his neck. He pauses to adjust his hat and looks up. 

He sees her shadow looking off the balcony. The house is just as immense as the yard. His work takes at least a day but he can’t complain; her father overpays him for what he does. Who wouldn’t? With a house like this? A family? You’d want it all to be kept just so. 

“Ugh, don’t be a bitch,” Gem sneers. “It’s my car, I can take it when I want--” 

“Yeah, but daddy--” 

“Do you even want me to come over?” She snips. 

He laughs but not loud enough to be heard. She has some fire and her friends deserve that. They're all spoiled. She is too but she’s not like them. 

She closes the doors. Good. She forgets to do that sometimes and from the right angle, anyone could see in. If they knew the gate code, they could even get in. 

He shoves the snipped ends and dead bits in a compost bag. As he rolls the edge, she comes out. He keeps her in his peripheral but doesn’t look directly at her. She waves. 

“Is my dad gone?” She asks. 

“Em, yeah, think he left a while ago,” he peeks over at her. He takes off his cap and wipes his face on his arm. 

“Oh, it’s very hot. I should’ve brought you some water,” she tuts. “Anyhow, I’m on my way out. Looks nice out here.” 

“Thanks, miss,” he says. 

She smiles at him, “Sy?” She asks, hands on her hips. 

“Yes, miss?” 

“How does my hair look?” She turns to show him all of it. His eyes dart down to her checkered skirt. Quickly, he lifts them back to her face. 

“It looks very nice,” he assures her. It always does.  

“Aw, thanks, Sy,” she shimmies. “Well, have a good day. I’ll see ya next week.” 

She dances off in her platform heels and digs in her purse to find her keys. The white mercedes beeps and unlocks and she takes her time getting everything sorted. Purse in the passenger, pink leather knapsack in the back.  

She’s finally in. She backs up and the gates open at the push of her button. She swerves around and drives through. He watches until she’s gone. He just needs to clean up anyway. 

He leaves an hour later. He leaves his truck at home. It’s too obvious. He takes the pontiac in his garage instead. The pet project put together from his fruitful business and scavenging in junk yards. He drives past Margot’s and parks a block down. 

There’s a place around here where he does the hedges. They have a nice tree in the back too. It’s not exactly cozy and a bit of an effort but he gets to the top and perches between the branches. He’s been trying to cut weight but he’s always been on the thicker side. 

He can see almost right into Margot’s room. Gem is there. She has a glass bottle with bright pink liquid inside. He doesn’t think she should drink so much or so early but that’s why he keeps an eye on her. 

The girls eventually head out. He follows them to the mall. He eats while they waste time at that makeup shop. They come out and he gives them a bit to get ahead of him. He’s tired but he doesn’t have any other jobs to do. 

Dinner at a fancy place that demands ties and jackets sees him scrolling on the Discord. A few of the other men say they made progress, whatever that means. Some of those guys are a bit off. Especially that Cole fellow. Clumsy, to boot. 

After, the girls go down the street to a flashing marquee. They head into the bar without being stopped. The pretty ones never have trouble. He waits an hour, restless, then goes in after them. 

He trawls the place. He finds her. She’s got another drink. A bad habit. He nearly drowned in the stuff after he got back from serving. She’s young, she’ll learn. 

A man approaches her and Margot. He’s up on Gem before she even notices. She grabs his hand and moves it away from her hip. The other girl giggles. It’s obvious her friend is uncomfortable but she just thinks it’s amusing. 

Gem deserves better. She deserves people who care about more than labels and credit cards. She just needs that bubble popped. One day she’ll see.  

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Now don't throw tomatoes at me but I'm actually really excited to finally see malleus again— I've always loved malleus since we met him in the story, but I'm also sooo curious about what's gonna happen next,, I'm wondering the obvious thing, about whether or not we might get a parralel scenario like what happened with the KoD and silver will have to "slay" malleus or at least be the one to land a killing blow, but I also saw a really interesting post focusing on how magic is a manifestation of dreams and deep desires and imagination,,,, in that case, I may (VERY delusionally) hope that Yuu finally gets to be a major part of the story for once??? Even reading the novels, there HAS to be something bigger for yuu— while the idea of crowley simply being an incompetent airhead is fun and more comfortable, haven't you thought that meybe he pulled them into this world deliberately??

All to say, what if at some point, Yuu somehow manifests magic in a very dire moment ?? You know lol?? Agh idk. I just want yuu to finally make impactful choices but that IS too much to ask, as far as we can see for now,,, (but hey, that part leading up to ace getting is UM, and the convo between him and yuu,,, it *does* give one a sliver of hope, doesn't it? :') )

Don't worry, no tomato throwing here! 😅 I may not care for certain characters, but I’m not going to shame anyone that does. You’re free to think however you want about Malleus!

dbjsvsJcwhj My personal feelings about him aside, I am actually glad he’s finally relevant to the main story again. He’s missed out on so much of his own book OTL In the time he’s been gone, the fandom has been left to speculate about both his and Lilia’s potential death flags. I really doubt Twst will have the balls to kill off one of them, but it would be cool to at least see Silver delivering the final blow to knock some sense into (not necessarily kill) OB Malleus.

Yes, it’s true that Silver states in the recent update that magic was originally considered “a miracle borne of strong desires from the heart.” But 💦 I don’t think that means Yuu would randomly manifest magic in the final fight?? It feels more like a “let’s save the day with the power of friendship” to me, but I could of course be wrong.

I understand being frustrated that Yuu’s participation in the main story seems to fluctuate a lot, with most of their activity being books 3, 4, and segments of 1, 6, and 7. That’s not much, especially considering how long books 6 and 7 are. Sometimes (even in events) it feels like Yuu is barely there, as most dialogue options don’t involve different reactions from the characters. Even Yuu's quest to find a way home is barely addressed or taken seriously until early in book 7. Yuu hasn't gotten "real" development unless you count them realizing their Disney dreams are prophetic in book 5, taking the initiative to save Grim in book 6, and that dialogue option about them being worried they're not contributing + the related convo with Ace in book 7. All very short moments in the grand scheme of things. And honestly, I think that makes sense for the kind of character Yuu is. A blank slate, a self-insert, an outsider that's easy to exposit information to, someone with which to view the story, characters, and world through. Yuu is primarily there to be the POV character, the lenses, the camera that we see Twst through. They're not really meant to be a traditional "main character". It's possible that Twst gives them a slightly bigger role at the very end (especially with what went down in the dream in book 7), but I doubt it will be a huge triumphant moment where they and they alone save the day or deal the final blow in a crazy act of self-sacrifice. Twst has always been a story that puts the NRC boys first, while Yuu is the observer.

I've noticed that the complaint of Yuu not doing a lot in the story comes mainly from English speaking fans?? And I guess that makes sense, given how western culture tends to emphasize independence and standing out. They want Yuu to reflect that. They want to be the ones to make a difference. I don't even remember ever seeing these same comments from the Japanese speaking fans; it's definitely a less common sentiment for them. The Japanese fans seem pretty content with Yuu being an observer and taking on more of a minor or supporting role. Again, this fits in with what I understand of many eastern cultures. They're demurer, not wanting to stand out too much from the crowd and instead prioritizing group harmony. Very interesting cultural difference to note!

It's a common theory (with many variants) that Crowley intentionally summoned Yuu to Twisted Wonderland for his own nefarious motives. People found him pretty sus right away due to how he seems to not put in any real time or effort into investigating a way to send Yuu home. Plus, there's that ominous opening monologue of his to consider. However, I don't think he summoned Yuu because of their (potential) great magical capabilities. The Mirror of Darkness tells us that it doesn't sense a shred of magic in Yuu, and Leona smells zero magic on them (though that could be because it hasn't technically manifested yet, as some fans claim).

The idea is that Yuu is supposed to be plain. They are supposed to be magicless. Why? To humble the NRC students and to show them that asserting yourself violently or with great magical power ISN'T the way to go. To show them value in strategizing (which Yuu does in the prologue by helping Grim aim at the ghosts), of camaraderie. What does it say about the story's themes if Yuu, the person who is supposed to be showing them the worth of mundane things, is suddenly... "secretly ultra-strong, actually/“just like you guys” (even if it's only a temporary hope-fueled magic)? It might contradict what has already been set up. It also breaks the self-insert appeal of Yuu, since developing magic would also mean Yuu would later have to further develop things like proficiency in magic, best/worst subjects, and an unique magic/signature spell... meaning Yuu HAS to become better "defined", thus losing their blank slate nature. This would surely upset some fans who deeply project onto Yuu, have a Yuusona, etc.

Yuu can still make an impact on the characters and the world--and they have, judging by how much closer the boys are with each other--without having to be The Most Special One or like everyone else. I think it undermines what Yuu has already managed to achieve to say that they haven't made an impactful choice at ANY point in the main story when I believe they definitely have. Yuu made the choice to sign the contract with Azul. Yuu made the choice to approach Malleus. Yuu made the choice to go against Crowley's orders and go retrieve Grim from S.T.Y.X. Yuu made the choice to get Leona’s help with the contracts. Yuu made the choice to stand with Adeuce against Riddle in book 1. Yuu made the choice to let the VDC/SDC tribe train at Ramshackle. Yuu has done a lot, and all without needing to seize the spotlight or to do anything big and flashy. I don't think Yuu needs to be big and flashy. There is pride to be had in simplicity and being humble too. There is pride in representing the 90% of humans in Twisted Wonderland that are ordinary and without magic.

(An aside: so if Yuu wasn’t able to manifest magic in many other extreme instances, does that mean their desire to save Grim in book 6 wasn’t “enough”? That their desire to save Ramshackle, their one and only home in this world, wasn’t “enough”? It implies that Yuu didn’t wish hard enough for these other things they clearly care about and want.)

I think a good way to give Yuu a decent role while staying true to their design as a blank slate would be for Twst to really lean into the whole "beast tamer" aspect that was introduced all the way back in the prologue. This would work well with their deep connection to Grim as well. Assuming that Grim ends up being the final OB... We could easily have the NRC students and staff on the ropes, Malleus at his wit's end after exhausting himself with his own OB, a rampaging Grim about to end it all. And then... one lone figure shakily rises from the rubble and confronts Grim. One human. Magicless, defenseless. A human lost in an unfamiliar world, a human who believes they're useless and don't contribute much. A human who is always in need of being protected by others. But not anymore. This time, it's Yuu's turn to protect what they love--their friends, this world they've come to love, Grim. Ace and Deuce yelling at Yuu to not be stupid, to get back--but Yuu just advances, calling out to Grim and begging him to stop. And maybe it's Yuu's wish that rallies everyone and/or gets OB Grim to hesitate. That's when they can strike. Is that corny? Yeah. Does it sound like the ending to a Disney film? Sure. But it still grants Yuu, a magicless human that is supposed to be there to teach everyone about friendship, cooperation, and humility, their big moment to shine. The best of both worlds, I'd say.

[chxnsgirl]

황현진 & 한지성 ─── pas de trois

♡ pairing ៸៸ ballet dancer!hyunjin x ballet dancer!jisung x afab!reader ៸៸ genre ៸៸ love triangle, ballet academy au ៸៸ cw ៸៸ none really. just jisung pining and hyunjin being a womanizer. ♡ synopsis ៸៸ in the world of ballet, every step is choreographed—but love never follows the script. what happens when you get accepted into the ballet academy of your dreams? a/n ๑ hi hi i decided to make this multiple parts because it's long as FUCK and i couldn't make you guys read over 10k words per part LMAO. ive been working on this for about two weeks and im STILL writing this story. comment below if you want to be apart of the taglist for this series, there will be smut in the next part ;3 ♡ masterlist

it was a day filled with nerves and anticipation.

today marked your first day at lumière ballet company—the most prestigious and renowned company in the country. you, along with fourteen other dancers, had earned a coveted spot to train, undergo rigorous evaluations, and prove your potential for a place in the company.

getting accepted into lumière ballet company had been your dream for as long as you could remember. now, here you were—far from home, chasing that dream with everything you had, determined to turn it into reality.

the only thing that unsettled you was the distance. your parents had always been supportive, but they hadn’t been thrilled about you leaving. they feared for you—not because they doubted your talent, but because they worried about the heartbreak if things didn’t go as planned. they didn’t want to see your dreams shatter before you even had the chance to live them.

you pushed those thoughts aside. after all, here you were—standing in front of the very place you had dreamed of since childhood.

as you struggled with your bags, pulling them out of the taxi, you heard a voice behind you.

“need some help with those?”

assuming it was just some random person, you rolled your eyes, irritation creeping into your tone. “no.” you tugged at your largest bag and turned around, ready to brush off whoever it was.

but your heart skipped a beat when you saw who was standing there. hwang hyunjin, the star dancer of the company. famous for his flawless technique and striking good looks, he stood before you with platinum blonde buzzed hair, plump lips, piercing dark eyes, and glowing, honey-toned skin.

you fumbled for words, a nervous chuckle escaping your lips. “oh, um…” you couldn’t help but take him in, a little starstruck that he was actually standing there, talking to you.

“‘no?’” he smiled, his eyes scanning you briefly.

“i mean… no, thank you.” you hugged your bag to your chest, politely declining his offer. he nodded, his expression unreadable as he took a step back.

“okay,” he said simply before turning and heading toward the company entrance.

you watched him walk away, a dazed, goofy smile spreading across your face.

you were definitely starstruck. you had seen hyunjin on tv and in performances before. he was undeniably talented, and adored by so many. it took you by surprise that he had even spoken to you, let alone offered to help carry your bags to your dorm.

the arrival at your dorm was quick and seamless, and you were relieved to find that your roommates were nice. yeji had been at the company for a while—she practically grew up there, and her seniority made you a little nervous. the other girl, celeste, was beautiful and kind, though you could tell she had a sharp tongue that might get her into trouble.

as you were walking around the dorms, you ran into yeji’s friend, minho. the two exchanged a friendly hug before she introduced you both.

“this is minho, and minho, these are my roommates—y/n and celeste,” yeji said, gesturing to you both.

minho gave a casual wave, leaning on yeji’s shoulder. “nice to meet you. you two new?” his tone made it clear he already knew the answer.

“yep, we are. that obvious?” you chuckled shyly. he laughed, shaking his head.

“maybe just a little. what are you guys up to, walking around the dorms?”

“i was just showing them around,” yeji explained.

“i see. want to play stakeout with me and felix? we’re keeping an eye out for our third roommate. supposedly, he’s coming from across the country,” minho said, nodding toward his dorm.

yeji looked to you and celeste for approval, waiting for your responses before agreeing.

“sure, we’ll hang for a little,” yeji smiled.

you spent the afternoon lounging around, getting to know minho and felix. the conversation flowed easily, filled with lighthearted jokes and stories. you learned that minho had been at the company for about four years—a fact that surprised you, given how effortlessly he carried himself. felix, on the other hand, was just as new as you and celeste, which brought you a sense of comfort. it was nice knowing you weren’t the only one still finding your footing.

the five of you were sprawled across minho and felix’s beds, laughing and sharing stories, when the sound of the door clicking open caught your attention.

in walked a stunningly handsome guy with clear, glowing skin and tousled dark brown hair that framed his sharp jawline. his cheeks had the slightest hint of roundness, giving him a boyish charm, but it was his eyes that truly struck you—warm, expressive, and impossibly friendly. he took in the unfamiliar faces before him, offering a small, hesitant smile as he waved.

“uh… am i in the right room?” he asked, shutting the door behind him and tugging out his dorm papers.

“you’re jisung?” minho spoke up, looking him over. you could’ve sworn there was a hint of pink dusting his cheeks.

“yeah, jisung.” he smiled warmly before setting his bags down next to the empty bed in the corner.

for a moment, minho didn’t respond, as if he had momentarily lost the ability to speak.

“um, i’m felix,” felix stepped in, standing up to shake jisung’s hand. “nice to meet you. that’s minho.” he motioned vaguely toward minho, who managed a small wave.

“nice to meet you too,” jisung replied with a grin, shrugging his duffel bag off his shoulder.

yeji stood up next, introducing herself, and celeste followed. finally, you extended your hand. “i’m y/n,” you said, offering a friendly smile.

jisung’s eyes flickered toward yours, his gaze lingering just a second longer than expected before his lips curled into a soft smile. “nice to meet you.”

“you too.” you hesitated before adding, “minho mentioned you’re coming from across the country?”

“yeah,” jisung sighed, running a hand through his hair. “i flew in from la. my girlfriend dumped me for leaving her there.” his expression faltered slightly, the disappointment evident in his tone.

from the corner of your eye, you noticed minho let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, subtly relaxing against the bed once more.

felix let out a low whistle. “oof, rough. long-distance is tough, huh?”

jisung shrugged, forcing a small smile. “guess she didn’t think it was worth it. but, honestly, i can’t blame her. i left pretty suddenly when i got accepted here.”

yeji tilted her head. “how did you hear about lumière? i mean, it’s the top ballet company in the country, but la has some incredible programs too.”

jisung sat down on his bed, leaning back on his hands. “i’ve known about lumière since i was a kid. my old instructor used to talk about it all the time—said it was the kind of place that could turn a good dancer into a great one. so, when i saw the audition announcement, i figured i had to at least try.” he glanced around the room. “still can’t believe i actually made it.”

you nodded in understanding. “i know the feeling. this place always felt like an impossible dream, and now we’re actually here.”

minho, finally finding his voice again, smirked. “impossible dream or not, don’t think they’re going to go easy on you. lumière’s training program is brutal. if you survive it, you’ve got a shot at a contract, but only a few of us will actually get hired.”

jisung raised an eyebrow. “only a few?”

yeji sighed, crossing her arms. “yeah. it’s tough. there are fifteen of us in the program, but in the end, they only offer jobs to about five or six. maybe less, depending on the company’s needs.”

celeste groaned, flopping onto felix’s bed. “ugh, way to kill the excitement. let us enjoy the moment before we start panicking.”

felix laughed. “she’s right. we just got here, let’s not stress yet.”

jisung chuckled, shaking his head. “nah, i’d rather know what i’m up against. so, any advice? what’s the secret to surviving lumière?”

minho exchanged a knowing look with yeji before shrugging. “work hard, don’t mess around, and for the love of everything, don’t get on the instructors’ bad side.”

felix raised a playful brow. “sounds like you’re speaking from experience.”

minho smirked. “let’s just say… they don’t forget easily.”

you laughed along with the group, but deep down, you felt the weight of their words. this wasn’t just a school—it was a proving ground. and if you wanted to stay, you’d have to give it everything you had.

the next morning, your alarm blared before the sun had fully risen, jolting you awake. a mix of nerves and excitement swirled in your stomach as you hurried to get ready, slipping into your leotard and tights before pulling your hair into a neat bun. this was it—your first official day at lumière ballet company.

by the time you arrived at the studio, the air was buzzing with hushed conversations and the occasional nervous laugh. the room was vast, lined with mirrors and ballet barres, the polished floors gleaming under the bright lights. the other dancers were already stretching, their movements graceful even in casual warm-ups. 

you spotted celeste and jisung near the back, exchanging a few words before he playfully nudged her, making her roll her eyes. yeji and minho were at the front, both exuding an effortless confidence that only came with experience.

you found a spot near the middle, smoothing out your leotard as you took a deep breath. just as you were about to start warming up, the studio doors swung open. the room instantly fell silent.

a group of instructors filed in, their sharp eyes scanning the room with quiet intensity. among them, a tall, distinguished man with graying hair stepped forward. his presence alone commanded respect, and you immediately recognized him—emile laurent, the head of lumière.

but he wasn’t the only notable figure in the room. behind the instructors, a small group of dancers followed, each one standing with an air of effortless poise. among them, your gaze caught on a familiar figure—hyunjin.

he was even more striking up close, his platinum blonde hair glowed under the lights, his black warm-up attire accentuated his lean, sculpted frame. you swallowed hard, suddenly hyper-aware of his presence.

émile cleared his throat, and all attention snapped back to him.

“welcome,” he began, his voice deep and steady. “you stand here today because you have proven yourselves among the most talented young dancers in the country. but talent alone will not secure your place here. over the next several months, you will be tested—physically, mentally, and artistically. some of you will thrive. some of you will falter.” his sharp gaze swept across the room. “only a select few will earn a permanent position within this company.”

the weight of his words settled over the group like a heavy blanket. you tried not to let it shake you, but your fingers instinctively curled into the fabric of your tights.

“as you train, you will work with our esteemed instructors, as well as the company’s leading dancers.” émile gestured behind him, and that was when hyunjin stepped forward alongside the others. “these artists represent the highest standard of excellence. watch them. learn from them. and, if you are lucky, perhaps one day, you will dance beside them.”

a murmur rippled through the room, dancers exchanging glances of awe and quiet determination. you were no different—your gaze flickered toward hyunjin once again, and to your surprise, he was already looking at you.

your breath hitched.

it was brief, just a moment—his dark eyes meeting yours before a small, knowing smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. he tilted his head ever so slightly, as if amused by your reaction. 

you quickly looked away, heat creeping up your neck.

“your training begins now,” émile’s voice snapped your attention back. “we will push you. and if you survive, you may just earn the right to call yourselves dancers of lumière.” murmurs began to be heard, but before you could break to hide in your thoughts, he spoke up again.

“one more thing, we have the company gala next week, we invite our advanced students, such as yourselves, to attend the performance and help with the party afterwards. i expect to see you all there.”

with that, the instructors began splitting the group up, but your thoughts remained elsewhere.

“i hope he didn’t think that was inspirational,” you heard a voice behind you.

you turned, seeing jisung leaning against a barre, arms crossed over his chest with an amused glint in his eyes.

you let out a breathy chuckle, still trying to shake off the weight of émile’s speech. “yeah, if the goal was to make us all fear for our lives, then mission accomplished.”

he smirked, pushing off the barre and stretching his arms over his head. “honestly, i think that’s the point. they want to weed out the ones who can’t handle the pressure.” he glanced around the room, where some dancers were already practicing their footwork, while others whispered amongst themselves, their nerves palpable. “some people thrive under that kind of intensity. others…” he trailed off, watching a girl in the corner shakily adjusting her pointe shoes.

you hummed in agreement, then glanced at him. “and what about you? are you one of those people who thrive?”

jisung shrugged, a lazy smile playing at his lips. “i guess we’ll find out.”

his confidence was subtle—not the overbearing, showy kind, but the kind that felt steady, reassuring. there was something about the way he carried himself that made you feel at ease, as if no matter how difficult things got, he would take it in stride.

you exhaled, shaking your head. “i get that they want to push us, but still… i was kind of hoping for at least one encouraging word.”

he chuckled. “guess you’ll have to settle for me.”

you turned to him with a teasing smile. “oh? and what words of wisdom do you have to offer?”

he pretended to think, lips pursing in exaggerated contemplation. “how about… ‘don’t pass out on your first day’?”

you rolled your eyes playfully. “wow. so profound.”

“i try,” he said with a grin, nudging you lightly with his elbow.

you gradually became acquainted with a few other girls in the class, aside from celeste and yeji. yeji, being well-connected within the company, had a couple of close friends she primarily stuck with—yuqi and lia, both senior dancers who carried themselves with the kind of effortless confidence that came from years of experience. it didn’t take long to realize that they seemed to know everything about everyone, from which instructors were the toughest to which dancers were secretly dating.

sensing an opportunity to learn the ins and outs of the company, you made an effort to spend more time around them. their presence, along with celeste’s, gave you a sense of comfort amid the overwhelming newness of it all.

with their guidance, you managed to survive your first class. the session focused mainly on warm-ups and refining positioning, easing you into the company’s expectations without immediately throwing you into the deep end. you concentrated on every movement, working to ensure your form was correct, and though you were nervous at first, it quickly became second nature.

oddly enough, time seemed to slip away faster than you anticipated. what started as a nerve-wracking first class soon became a blur of controlled movements, stretching, and quiet concentration. by the time the session ended, you were left feeling relieved.

as class ended, you fell into step with the girls, chatting idly as you made your way toward the commons. the conversation quickly turned into playful gossip about various company scandals—who was secretly dating whom, which instructors were the toughest, and who had mysteriously dropped out of the program.

it wasn’t until yuqi casually mentioned a name that you had already become all too familiar with that the conversation took a more intriguing turn.

“did you see hyunjin’s back from korea?” yuqi asked, slinging her bag off her shoulder before settling onto one of the couches.

your ears instantly perked up. you and the rest of the group followed suit, finding seats around her, the air buzzing with curiosity.

“i’m surprised he’s back so soon, considering what happened,” yeji added with a knowing grin, the kind that suggested she was sitting on a particularly juicy piece of information.

“what happened?” celeste beat you to the question just as you were about to ask yourself.

yeji leaned in slightly, lowering her voice as if afraid someone else might overhear. “right before the end of last year, hyunjin got dumped by madeline picard—one of the best dancers this company has ever seen.” she let the name linger, watching for your reaction.

your brows furrowed. madeline picard. the name sounded vaguely familiar, but before you could dwell on it, yuqi picked up where yeji left off.

“yeah, and apparently, it wasn’t just a normal breakup. he totally lost it—had a complete meltdown and accused her of cheating because she ended things so suddenly.”

you blinked, surprised. hyunjin didn’t exactly seem like the type to be dramatic over a breakup.

lia, who had been mostly quiet until now, tilted her head, her expression amused. “i heard all he did in korea was go clubbing and hook up with every girl he came across.” she raised a brow as if challenging anyone to refute her claim.

your stomach twisted slightly. you weren’t sure why. maybe it was because you had only just met hyunjin, and already, there was so much weight behind his name. or maybe it was the idea that, beneath his striking looks and undeniable talent, there was something messy lurking underneath.

"apparently, he hasn’t spoken to anyone from last year," yeji added, her tone dripping with intrigue.

"he talked to me."

the words slipped out before you could stop them, and the moment they did, regret settled in your stomach like a rock. instantly, all eyes snapped to you, a mixture of disbelief and curiosity flashing across their faces.

"what?" yeji practically narrowed her eyes at you, a sharp, almost jealous glint in her gaze.

"wait, hold on," yuqi leaned forward, gripping the edge of the couch. "you actually spoke to hyunjin? when?"

you swallowed, suddenly feeling very small under their intense stares. "it was nothing," you said quickly, waving a dismissive hand. "i mean… he just offered to help me with my bags yesterday."

silence. then—

"you’re telling me," lia started slowly, eyeing you with suspicion, "that he randomly decided to help you with your luggage?"

"it wasn’t like that," you rushed to explain. "i didn’t even recognize him at first. i thought he was some weird guy bothering me, so i kind of snapped at him."

yuqi gasped dramatically. "you snapped at hyunjin?"

"well, yeah, but i didn’t know it was him!" you defended.

celeste let out a low whistle, shaking her head in amusement. "wow. bold of you."

yeji folded her arms, tapping a manicured finger against her elbow. "and what did he say after you oh-so-graciously rejected his help?"

you hesitated, recalling the way his dark eyes had flickered with something unreadable when you told him no. how he had looked you over before flashing a knowing grin.

"he just smiled and walked away," you admitted, shifting uncomfortably under their scrutinizing gazes.

another round of silence followed.

then, to your utter shock, lia smirked. "oh, he’s interested."

your eyes widened. "what? no, he’s not! it was just a random encounter—"

"please," yuqi scoffed. "hyunjin doesn’t go out of his way for just anyone. and you’re new, so it’s not like he has some pre-existing friendship with you."

"yeah," celeste chimed in, grinning. "sounds like someone caught the star dancer’s attention."

you groaned, covering your face with your hands. "you guys are seriously overthinking this."

"are we?" yeji quirked a brow. "or are you underthinking it?"

you shook your head, but the butterflies in your stomach told you otherwise.

as the weeks passed, the reality of your position at lumière ballet company began to settle in. you quickly realized that, compared to many of the other dancers, you had a lot of ground to cover. your turnout wasn’t as refined, your footwork wasn’t as naturally strong, and the effortless grace that others seemed to possess still felt just out of your reach. every class was a reminder of how much work lay ahead of you.

celeste was a constant source of encouragement, always quick to remind you that progress takes time, but even her reassurances couldn’t stop the nagging doubt from creeping in. what if it wasn’t enough? what if, no matter how hard you pushed yourself, your technique still paled in comparison to the others? the thought of being cut prematurely haunted you, lingering in the back of your mind like a storm cloud threatening to break.

but it wasn’t until you were unexpectedly called to the headmaster’s office that true fear gripped you. your heart pounded as you made your way through the halls, every step feeling heavier than the last. was this it? had they already decided that you weren’t good enough? the possibility loomed over you, making it nearly impossible to breathe.

as you reached the emile’s office, you hesitated for a brief moment before gathering the courage to knock.

“come in,” a voice called from the other side.

taking a deep breath, you pushed the door open and stepped inside. the office was grand yet intimidating, with towering bookshelves filled with ballet history, framed photos of past company stars, and the sharp scent of polished wood lingering in the air. seated behind an ornate mahogany desk was emile, a man whose presence commanded respect. across from him sat miss cassandra, your primary instructor, her sharp eyes scanning you the moment you entered.

“take a seat,” he instructed, motioning to the chair across from him.

your heart pounded as you settled into the seat, your palms pressing nervously against your skirt. miss cassandra crossed her legs, folding her hands in her lap as the headmaster leaned forward, scrutinizing you for a moment before finally speaking.

“you’ve been here for a few weeks now,” he began, his tone calm but firm. “and i imagine you’ve realized just how competitive this company is.”

you swallowed, nodding.

“the reality is, ballet is as much about physicality as it is about artistry. this company—this industry—demands precision, discipline, and most importantly, the right body for it,” he continued. “your lines, your turnout, the way your feet work—it all matters. you have potential, but potential alone doesn’t earn you a place here.”

miss cassandra finally spoke, her voice carrying the same sharpness you were used to hearing in class. “you’re a hard worker, and that’s good. but hard work only goes so far when your technique isn’t where it needs to be. your turnout is lacking, and without proper turnout, your movements will never have the seamless quality we expect here.”

you gripped your hands together, your stomach twisting uncomfortably.

“the workshop performance is approaching,” the headmaster reminded you. “that performance will determine whether or not you earn your spot in the company. if you don’t show significant improvement by then, i’m afraid you won’t be able to continue training here.”

the words struck you like a blow, knocking the air from your lungs. you had known this company was difficult, but hearing those words so plainly was different—it was a direct challenge, a warning that time was running out.

“we aren’t saying this to discourage you,” miss cassandra said, her gaze piercing. “we’re telling you this so you understand the reality of what’s at stake. you have work to do, and not much time to do it.”

emile nodded. “if you truly want this, you need to prove it. show us that you belong here.”

you felt the weight of their expectations pressing down on you, but beneath the fear, there was determination. you had fought too hard to get here—leaving wasn’t an option.

“i understand,” you said quietly, but with conviction.

miss cassandra studied you for a moment before nodding. “good. then i suggest you start working twice as hard, because the clock is ticking.”

with that, the meeting was over. you stood, offering a polite nod before turning toward the door. as you stepped into the hallway, the reality of the situation fully set in. you had only a few weeks to prove yourself.

back at the dorm, you sat on the edge of your bed, your hands clasped together in your lap as you tried to process everything. the headmaster’s words played over and over in your mind, intertwining with miss cassandra’s sharp critiques. the weight of it all felt suffocating.

celeste sat beside you, her arm draped around your shoulders in a comforting squeeze. “hey, don’t let it get to you too much,” she said softly. “you’re working hard. that has to count for something.”

you let out a shaky breath. “i don’t know if it’s enough.”

celeste frowned, nudging you gently. “of course it’s enough. you’re not some talentless beginner. you got accepted here for a reason. if they didn’t see potential, you wouldn’t be here in the first place.”

you wanted to believe her, but emile’s warning still rang in your ears. potential isn’t enough.

before you could respond, the door to the dorm swung open, and yeji walked in, dropping her bag onto the floor with a thud. she glanced at the two of you before cocking her head. “what’s with the sad puppy look?”

celeste shot her a look. “she just had a talk with the headmaster.”

yeji raised a brow. “oh?” she tossed her shoes off and sat on her bed, crossing her legs. “let me guess. he told you your technique isn’t good enough?”

your silence was enough.

yeji sighed, shrugging as she pulled her hair into a ponytail. “well… he’s right.”

celeste stiffened beside you. “yeji.”

“what?” yeji leaned back against her pillows. “i’m just saying. this isn’t some feel-good ballet academy. if you can’t keep up, you get cut. that’s how it works.”

your stomach twisted at her bluntness. you knew she wasn’t saying it to be outright cruel—it was just how she was. but that didn’t make it any easier to hear.

celeste shot up from the bed, glaring at yeji. “she knows that. she doesn’t need you rubbing it in.”

yeji rolled her eyes. “i’m not rubbing it in. i’m just being realistic.”

you exhaled, rubbing your temples. “she’s not wrong.”

celeste groaned, turning back to you. “no, don’t listen to her. you can do this. you just have to work harder, and i’ll help you however i can, okay?”

you nodded, offering her a small smile of appreciation.

yeji sighed dramatically, swinging her legs onto the bed. “i’m just saying, you should get used to criticism. if you can’t handle a little tough love, you won’t last here.”

celeste threw a pillow at her. “your love is just tough. there’s no love in it.”

yeji smirked, catching the pillow with ease. “fine. then consider it free advice.”

celeste huffed, plopping back down onto your bed with a determined look on her face. “alright, enough of this depressing mood. we need a distraction.”

you blinked at her, confused. “a distraction?”

she nodded, a mischievous grin forming. “yes. you, my dear, need a break. and i have just the thing—clubbing.”

your eyes widened. “clubbing?”

“clubbing,” she confirmed, already pulling out her phone. “we’re getting dressed up, going out, and having fun. you’ve been working your ass off, and it’s time to let loose for one night.”

yeji scoffed from her bed, stretching her arms over her head. “you? at a club?” she eyed you skeptically. “are you even the type?”

celeste shot her a glare. “of course she is. she just doesn’t know it yet.” then, without waiting for a response, she started texting. “i’m messaging minho, jisung, yuqi, and felix. we’re making a night of it.”

you groaned, already feeling exhausted at the thought. “celeste, i don’t know—”

“nope! no excuses.” she stood, hands on her hips. “you’re stressed, you’re overworked, and you’re doubting yourself. what you need is a night of dancing, drinks, and good music. trust me.”

yeji smirked. “i’ll go.”

“of course you will,” celeste muttered before turning back to you. “come on, y/n. when’s the last time you did something fun?”

you hesitated. you weren’t exactly the clubbing type, and the thought of being in a crowded place with loud music and flashing lights wasn’t something you typically sought out. but… maybe celeste had a point.

you had been completely consumed by ballet. the stress of proving yourself was weighing heavier by the day, and if you didn’t let loose even a little, you might actually implode.

“…fine,” you finally relented with a sigh.

celeste cheered, throwing her arms around you. “yes! i knew you’d come around.”

yeji chuckled, shaking her head. “this should be interesting.”

celeste turned back to her phone, quickly typing away. “minho says he’s in. jisung too. yuqi and felix are coming, so that means we officially have a squad.”

you bit your lip, nerves bubbling in your chest. what had you just agreed to?

celeste clasped her hands together. “alright, girls. let’s get ready. y/n, you’re gonna look so good, no man will be able to take his eyes off you.”

when you walked up to the club with celeste, yeji, and yuqi, jisung’s eyes lit up. it was almost as if he was in awe of you. of course, you didn’t notice, still too hung up on what the headmaster said to you that afternoon. 

jisung’s eyes roamed over you as you approached, his lips parting slightly as if he had something to say but couldn’t quite find the words. you looked different tonight—more than just dressed up. there was something about you that drew his attention like a magnet, something that made his chest feel a little tighter.

"you look..." he started, pausing as if searching for the right word. "wow."

you blinked, momentarily pulled from your thoughts. "huh?"

jisung let out a small chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck. "you look beautiful, y/n." his voice was softer now, almost hesitant.

you stared at him for a moment, then scoffed lightly, shaking your head. "yeah, right."

his brows furrowed. "i'm serious."

you offered him a small, polite smile. "thanks, jisung," you said, even though you didn’t quite believe him. it was a sweet thing to say, but after the afternoon you had, it was hard to see yourself as anything other than inadequate.

jisung frowned slightly, as if he could sense exactly what you were thinking. but before he could say anything more, minho clapped a hand on his shoulder. "are we going in or what?"

jisung gave you one last glance before nodding. "yeah. let’s go."

as the group made their way into the club, jisung couldn’t help but wonder why you brushed off his compliment so easily. and why, no matter how many people were around you, you still looked like you had the weight of the world on your shoulders.

once you all stepped inside, the pulsing bass of the music vibrated through your chest, the dim, colorful lights casting a glow over the crowded dance floor. the group pooled their money together for a table near the edge of the club, a spot just far enough from the speakers to talk but still close enough to feel the infectious energy of the room.

drinks were passed around, laughter filled the air, and everyone seemed to be letting loose—everyone except you. no matter how much you tried to shake it off, the nagging weight of earlier conversations pressed heavily on your mind, dragging you down. you sat there, absently swirling the liquid in your glass, your gaze unfocused as your thoughts spiraled.

that was when jisung carefully reached over, plucking the drink from your fingers and setting it down on the table.

blinking, you turned to look at him, confusion flickering across your face. “what are you doing?”

his fingers wrapped gently around your hand, giving it a light tug as a playful smile tugged at his lips. "you didn’t get all dressed up just to sit here and overthink, did you?"

you opened your mouth to protest, but before you could, he nodded toward the dance floor, where bodies moved fluidly under the flashing lights. “come on,” he urged, his voice warm and inviting.

for a second, you hesitated. but the way jisung looked at you—like he wanted nothing more than to pull you away from whatever storm was brewing in your mind—made it hard to say no.

you hesitated for a moment, glancing between jisung and the crowded dance floor. the pulsing music, the flashing lights, the bodies moving in sync—it was all so overwhelming. but then you looked at him. his eyes held no pressure, only warmth, only the unspoken promise that he was there, that he wanted you to have fun.

with a breath, you gave in. “okay,” you said softly.

a grin broke across jisung’s face as he gently led you onto the floor, weaving through the crowd until you found a space of your own. the rhythm of the music pulsed around you, a beat so infectious that it was impossible not to move. you started off slow, still a little unsure, your body stiff with lingering stress.

but jisung was different. he wasn’t stiff, not even a little. he moved with an effortless ease, his body in tune with the music like he was born for it. and as he danced beside you, he encouraged you with little smiles, playful nods, the way he subtly matched your movements to make it feel less like you were dancing alone.

“see?” he leaned in, his voice low but audible over the music. “not so bad, right?”

you let out a small laugh, shaking your head. “i guess not.”

the tension in your shoulders began to melt away as the music took over, and for the first time that night, you felt lighter. jisung noticed it too—the way your movements became freer, how your laughter slipped out more easily. and god, did he think you were beautiful like this.

the flashing club lights illuminated your features in shifting shades of blue, purple, and red. your hair framed your face just right, your eyes shining even in the dim light. jisung had always thought you were beautiful, but here, seeing you loosen up, seeing you smile after looking so down all evening, it made his chest tighten in a way he wasn’t prepared for.

you twirled, laughing as the movement made you stumble slightly, and instinctively, jisung’s hands found your waist, steadying you before you could lose your balance. it was just for a second, but when you looked up at him, your faces only inches apart, he felt his breath catch.

his hands lingered just a little longer than necessary before he cleared his throat, stepping back with a grin, though his heart was racing. “careful,” he teased. “don’t go falling for me now.”

you rolled your eyes, smiling despite yourself. “as if.”

but the way jisung looked at you in that moment, his gaze lingering, his playful smirk softening into something fonder—if only you knew just how much he already had fallen. 

after what felt like an eternity of dancing—your body light with adrenaline, the weight of the past weeks momentarily forgotten—jisung finally pulled away with a breathless grin. “alright, alright,” he laughed, running a hand through his tousled hair. “even i need a break.”

you chuckled, nodding in agreement. “yeah, i could use a drink.”

together, you weaved through the throng of people toward the bar, where the neon glow cast everything in shades of blue and purple. jisung leaned against the counter, signaling to the bartender while you stood beside him, catching your breath. your skin was still warm from dancing, your heart racing—not just from the exertion, but from the lingering feeling of jisung’s hands on your waist, the way he had looked at you under the flashing lights.

you exhaled deeply, shaking the thoughts away as the bartender slid two drinks across the counter. you reached for yours absentmindedly, lifting it to your lips—

“didn’t expect to see you here.”

you froze, your fingers tightening around your glass. you knew that voice. slowly, you turned your head, and there he was.

hyunjin.

up close, the dim club lighting softened the sharp angles of his face, but his presence was just as striking as ever. his platinum hair fell slightly into his dark eyes, which were locked onto you with an intensity that made your heart stutter. he smelled faintly of expensive cologne and alcohol, the scent mingling with the warmth of the crowded club.

you swallowed, willing your expression to stay neutral. “didn’t expect to see you either,” you replied, keeping your voice even.

hyunjin tilted his head slightly, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “didn’t take you for the clubbing type.” his eyes flickered over you, taking in the way your dress hugged your figure, how different you looked outside of the company’s strict ballet attire.

you raised a brow. “and what type did you take me for?”

he chuckled, resting his elbow on the bar beside you, leaning in just slightly. “hardworking. serious. someone who wouldn’t waste time on things like this.”

you scoffed, crossing your arms. “so i can’t let loose once in a while?”

“i didn’t say that.” he lifted his drink to his lips, taking a slow sip before continuing. “it’s just… surprising.”

you chuckled and shook your head. “do you even know my name?” you raised a brow as you looked up at him. he looked down at you, that smirk never leaving his stupidly gorgeous face. 

“y/n l/n.” he smiled. “how could i forget a face like yours?”

something about the way he said it sent an odd thrill through you. it wasn’t just his words—it was the way he was looking at you.

before you could come up with a response, another voice cut in.

“everything alright here?”

you turned to see jisung standing beside you, his gaze flicking between you and hyunjin. his usual warmth was still there, but there was something else too—a quiet protectiveness, a subtle tension in the way he held himself.

hyunjin looked at jisung, then back at you, his smirk widening slightly, as if he understood something neither of you had said out loud. he straightened, stepping back slightly. “didn’t mean to interrupt,” he said smoothly, though the glint in his eyes told you he had done exactly that.

you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. “we were just talking.”

“of course,” hyunjin mused, swirling the ice in his glass. then, with one last glance at you—one that lingered a second too long—he gave a small nod. “enjoy your night, y/n l/n.”

and just like that, he was gone, disappearing back into the crowd, leaving behind the scent of cologne and the faintest trace of something else.

jisung watched hyunjin disappear into the crowd, his jaw tightening ever so slightly. he turned back to you, studying your face—the way your eyes lingered on the spot hyunjin had stood, the way your fingers still gripped your drink a little too tightly.

“you okay?” he asked, though he already knew the answer.

you nodded, but it wasn’t convincing. “yeah.”

jisung let out a breath, forcing a small chuckle. “you know… for someone who just met him, you sure look at him like he hung the stars.”

your eyes snapped to his, caught off guard by the edge in his voice. it wasn’t anger—not exactly. but there was something there, something deeper than his usual lightheartedness.

you shifted on your feet, suddenly feeling exposed. “i don’t—” you cut yourself off, shaking your head. “it’s not like that.”

jisung gave you a look, one that told you he wasn’t buying it. “isn’t it?”

you swallowed, trying to find the right words, but none came. because deep down, you knew there was truth in what he was saying. there was something about hyunjin—his presence, his reputation, the effortless way he pulled you in. it was exciting. addictive, even.

jisung sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “look, i’m not trying to ruin your night.” his voice was softer now, but there was a weight behind it. “i just…” he hesitated, then forced a small smile. “never mind.”

“no, what?” you frowned, stepping closer. “tell me.”

jisung studied you for a moment, then shook his head with a chuckle that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “nothing. just… be careful with him, okay?”

you wanted to ask why. wanted to pry into whatever was making his expression so guarded. but before you could, celeste appeared beside you, draping an arm over your shoulder.

“there you are! come on, we bought another round.”

you glanced back at jisung, but he had already taken a step away, masking whatever he was feeling with his usual easygoing grin.

“yeah,” you murmured, forcing yourself to focus back on the present. “let’s go.”

but even as celeste dragged you toward the bar, you couldn’t shake the feeling that jisung’s words weren’t just a warning.

they were a plea.

the air in the studio was thick with tension, the usual routine of class disrupted by the presence of an audience. against the far wall, the company’s most renowned dancers, including hyunjin, sat in a neat line alongside the instructors and the director himself, their watchful eyes scanning the room as they whispered amongst themselves.

it had been a few months since your first day at lumière, and you’d finally begun to settle into the rigorous schedule, but today’s class wasn’t just another routine. today, they were scouting for dancers to be featured in the upcoming workshop—a performance that could solidify your place at the company.

your heart pounded as you stepped up to the barre, standing between celeste and yeji. yeji, always composed, adjusted her arm with practiced ease, while celeste rolled her shoulders back, flashing you a reassuring glance. “relax,” she mouthed.

you tried. you really did. but when the pianist began to play, signaling the start of class, your limbs felt stiffer than usual.

the warm-up passed in a blur of tendus and pliés, and as the class progressed, the instructors led everyone to the center for adagios and pirouettes. it was there, under the relentless scrutiny of the panel, that your nerves truly took hold.

“focus on turnout,” miss cassandra’s voice rang out as she walked the floor, correcting postures with a tap of her stick. “shoulders down, breath through the movement.”

you moved into your développé, willing yourself to remain poised, but as you extended your leg, you felt the slightest tremor in your ankle. it wasn’t much, but you knew the observers were trained to notice every detail.

beside you, yeji moved with the elegance of someone who had spent her entire life training for this moment. she was fluid, controlled, every movement effortless. it was no surprise—she was practically a shoo-in for the workshop.

celeste, meanwhile, danced with raw passion. even if her technique wasn’t as pristine, her expressiveness more than made up for it. you could tell she was determined to stand out today.

then there was jisung. though he was newer to classical ballet, he moved with an ease that made it seem as if he had been doing it all his life. his jumps were strong, and his turns were quick yet smooth, full of a quiet confidence that was captivating.

when it was time for pirouettes, you swallowed hard. you weren’t bad at them, but they weren’t your strongest skill either. you tried to keep your focus on the movement, on your breath, on the control of your core—but the moment you spotted hyunjin watching you from across the room, your rhythm faltered.

you stumbled slightly on your third rotation, stepping out of the turn to catch yourself.

you heard a quiet hum of disapproval from the instructors’ side. heat rushed to your face, but you kept going, forcing yourself to push through.

out of the corner of your eye, you saw hyunjin tilt his head, an unreadable expression on his face. he leaned in slightly as if saying something to the dancer beside him, and for a split second, your stomach twisted with uncertainty. was he talking about you?

before you could dwell on it, the instructor clapped her hands. “next group.”

you exhaled sharply and stepped back, catching jisung’s glance as you did. he gave you a small, encouraging smile, one that you tried to return despite the weight in your chest.

the class continued with across-the-floor exercises, and though you did your best, you couldn’t shake the feeling that today had not been your strongest performance.

as the final reverence came to a close, the director finally stepped forward.

“thank you all,” he said, his hands clasped behind his back. his voice was calm, measured, but held a weight that made your stomach churn. “we’ve been observing closely, and over the next few days, we will be making our selections for the workshop.” his sharp eyes swept the room. “work hard. your future here depends on it.”

with that, he turned and left, the rest of the observers trailing behind him.

hyunjin was the last to go.

as he stepped out, his gaze flickered toward you once more.

you had only meant to make a quick stop at the drugstore, picking up a few necessities—shampoo, toothpaste, maybe even a face mask to treat yourself after the grueling week of training. but as you browsed the shelves, a familiar figure caught your eye from the corner of the aisle.

at first, you froze, your mind scrambling to process whether or not you were seeing things. maybe it was just someone who looked like him—platinum blond hair wasn’t exactly common, but it wasn’t impossible. still, curiosity got the best of you.

gripping your shopping basket a little tighter, you stepped out of the aisle and glanced in the direction he had gone. the moment your eyes landed on him, any doubt vanished. it was hyunjin.

he was standing by the skincare section, intently reading the label of a serum bottle, his sharp features relaxed in concentration.

without giving yourself time to overthink it, you strode toward him, adopting a casual air as you stopped beside him. “i’m starting to think you’re stalking me,” you quipped, a teasing grin tugging at your lips as you pretended to inspect the same shelf he was browsing.

hyunjin turned his head slightly, his lips curling into a smirk as he met your gaze. “oh?” he mused, raising a brow. “and here i thought you were stalking me.”

you scoffed, picking up a random moisturizer just to keep your hands busy. “i was here first.”

“so you say.” he let out a soft chuckle before setting the serum back on the shelf, shoving a hand into the pockets of his hoodie. “didn’t expect to see you outside the studio. you look different compared to how i saw you the other day.”

you blinked at him, momentarily thrown off. “different how?”

hyunjin tilted his head, scanning you briefly. “less serious. less…” he trailed off, searching for the word before finally settling on, “stressed.”

you let out a small laugh, though the statement made something twist in your chest. “guess that means i should work on my poker face.”

his smirk lingered as he leaned a bit closer, voice dropping slightly. “or maybe you should learn to loosen up.”

your breath hitched at the proximity, but you quickly masked it, rolling your eyes instead. “says the guy who takes himself so seriously he can’t even enjoy a simple trip to the drugstore.” you gestured toward the products in front of him. “what are you even looking for?”

“face cleanser,” he said, picking up a bottle. “ran out.”

you feigned interest, tilting your head as you examined it. “is that the secret to looking like a prince on stage?”

hyunjin scoffed, shaking his head. “it’s just face wash.”

“sure it is,” you teased, placing the moisturizer back on the shelf. “next you’re gonna tell me you don’t have some ten-step skincare routine.”

he chuckled, running a hand against his hair. “maybe i do. gotta keep up appearances, right?”

you found yourself smiling, the usual nerves you felt around him easing just a little.

for a moment, the conversation settled into a comfortable pause. then, with a glance at your basket, hyunjin nodded toward it. “what about you? shopping spree?”

you scoffed. “hardly. just grabbing some things i ran out of.”

“hm.” he tapped his fingers against the edge of the shelf, studying you for a moment before flashing a lopsided grin. “well, don’t let me keep you from your very important purchases.”

you rolled your eyes, but you were smiling. “yeah, wouldn’t want to get in the way of your skincare journey, either.”

just as you were about to turn away, hyunjin’s voice stopped you in your tracks.

“hey.”

you glanced back at him, heart inexplicably picking up speed as he casually dropped a bottle of cleanser into his basket.

“have you had dinner yet?” he asked, his voice smooth yet unreadable. he took a slow step toward you, his head tilting slightly as he studied your reaction.

you froze, caught completely off guard. your fingers instinctively tightened around the handle of your basket. “um… no. not yet, anyway.” the words tumbled from your lips, slightly uneven.

hyunjin’s mouth twitched in amusement, clearly noticing your sudden shift in demeanor. “then let’s eat something,” he said, as if it were the simplest thing in the world.

your brows lifted slightly. “what, like… together?”

he let out a breath of laughter, shaking his head. “no, separately. at the same place. sitting at different tables.”

you rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t fight the tiny smile forming at the corners of your lips. “alright, smartass. i just wasn’t expecting you to—” you paused, suddenly hesitant. was this… a date? or was he just being friendly?

“wasn’t expecting me to what?” hyunjin prompted, watching you with an unreadable expression.

you shifted on your feet. “to, i don’t know, invite me to dinner?”

his smirk softened, and he shrugged. “why not? i’m hungry, you’re hungry. might as well eat together. better yet, how about we go to my place?”

it was such a simple reason. no deeper meaning, no hidden intentions—at least, none that you could decipher. and yet, something about the idea of sharing a meal with hyunjin made your stomach flip in a way you weren’t sure how to handle.

“okay,” you said before you could overthink it. “yeah. sure.”

hyunjin grinned, satisfied. “good.” he glanced down at your basket. “you done shopping?”

you nodded, and together, the two of you made your way toward the checkout counter.

as you stood in line, you stole a quick glance at him. this was the most time you had spent with him outside of class, and despite your initial nerves, it felt… natural. easy, even.

little did you know, jisung had texted you while you were shopping. and when you didn’t answer, he’d decided to call.

just as you placed your items on the counter, your phone buzzed in your pocket, you pulled it out, seeing the screen light up with a familiar name. jisung.

you hesitated, glancing at hyunjin, who was now placing his own items on the counter.

as the phone buzzed in your hand, you hesitated for a second before pulling it out and answering.

"hey, jisung," you said, trying to sound casual as you stepped slightly away from hyunjin.

"hey! i was just wondering if you wanted to grab some food or something? you kinda disappeared after class, and i figured you could use a break." his voice was as warm as ever, that familiar lilt making you feel at ease.

you chewed on your lip, glancing at hyunjin, who was busy paying for his things. “oh, um… i actually just made plans to eat.”

“with who?” jisung asked lightly, but you could hear the slight shift in his tone.

you hesitated. “hyunjin.”

there was a beat of silence on the other end. not long—just a second—but enough for you to notice.

“oh,” jisung finally said. “cool. guess he’s finally got you under his spell, huh?” his attempt at humor didn’t fully mask the disappointment in his voice.

you sighed, feeling a slight pang of guilt. “it’s just dinner. it wasn’t even planned or anything, we just ran into each other at the store.”

“right.” another pause. then, a forced chuckle. “well, have fun, then.”

you frowned at his sudden change in demeanor. “jisung, don’t be like that.”

“like what?” he let out a small laugh, but it lacked his usual warmth. “look, you can hang out with whoever you want. i was just calling to check in, that’s all.”

you exhaled through your nose, wanting to say more, but before you could, he beat you to it.

“i’ll see you later, okay?”

and before you could respond, the call ended.

you lowered your phone, staring at the screen for a moment. something about the way he had sounded unsettled you. you knew jisung cared about you—he was one of your closest friends here—but this felt different.

“everything okay?” hyunjin’s voice pulled you from your thoughts. he was standing next to you now, his bag in one hand, yours in the other, both receipts discarded. you didn’t even realize he bought your things for you, you were still hung up on what han said.

you forced a small smile, tucking your phone away. “yeah. just… my friend checking in.”

hyunjin raised a brow, but didn’t press. “ready to go?”

you nodded, pushing aside the lingering thoughts of jisung as you followed hyunjin out the door.

taglist: @ritsmith @bluesungology @jeonginsleftcheek @babigriin @tirena1 @nickgurl4life

©chxnsgirl do not repost, translate, or copy my works in any way, shape, or form.

[gatorbites-imagines]

scott summers x male reader where Scott gets hit with someones love mutation ( basically like a love potion type of situation ) and Scott " falls in love" with male reader, but scoot acts the same as he always does, because he is already in love with male reader.

Scott Summers x mutant male reader

Headcanons

Readers mildly based on Atom Smasher, at least power-wise. Still tired from working all week, but it is what it is. I eat up Scott being awkward, I hc him as autistic if anyone cares. Cuz I love Scott, and Scott is me.

You were on X-men, with a mutation that let you change your size. Like ant-man, but cooler, if anyone asked you. You didn’t need a suit to change your size, so in your mind you were the original.

How long you had been an x-men doesn’t matter much, just enough time for Scott to fall in love with you, but not long enough that you could read between all his actions.

Which isn’t very obvious to anyone but the teams telepaths, who can hear his thoughts because of different mind bonds they share. Or the ones who have been on the team long enough to notice he’s giving you favorable treatment.

To you it isn’t obvious, as Scott doesn’t let it show too much. favorable treatment from Scott is things like him pulling you into the danger room to spar more, or him secretly stocking up on your favorite snacks.

Scott would stick closer to you than most, but again, to you it just comes across as the leader sticking closer to the new guy. At least, in the beginning when you are the new guy. After that, you two have kind of a strategy when it comes to fighting from all the training, which makes you believe its that.

Scott was always a bit tense or flighty, in your opinion. But everything moved so slow or fast when you changed size, so maybe it was just that. being the leader of the x-men also meant he had to have a lot of weight on his shoulders, right?

It definitely wasn’t because your suit would rip and tear a lot back when you first joined the team, before Hank and you found the right formula for a suit that would shrink and grow with you.

At least you never flashed anybody, as much as Scott would silently in his mind wish you did. Which just ended up with him getting a lot of ribbing from Jean and whoever else could hear his thoughts.

When Scott was hit with the enemy mutants’ powers, no one really realized for a while.

You had been as big as a skyscraper at that point, fighting against a sentinel of all things. Why mutants would side with them, you never understood. But that’s life. This also just meant you didn’t see Scott get hit.

It was only after you guys got back to the mansion, or krakoa, depending on where and when this takes place, and other members of the team were getting treated. Hank was mostly shocked you hadn’t gotten hit, since you were so damn big and easy to hit.

The only difference in Scott was that he was hovering more than usual, hell, he even let his fingers brush against the back of your hand for like a split second but that was it.

Other than that, he’s the exact same, giving out orders and helping where he’s needed. Though, he does keep an eye on you more than usual, which isn’t that obvious with his visor and everything anyways.

Maybe Jean is out of commission for a while, so it’s Charles that realizes Scott was hit, so it takes a while.

And its only realized when Scotts thoughts spiral more than usual when it comes to you, sounding borderline obsessed and possessive. It’s when flickers of thoughts about using his optic blast on Remy when he’s doing his usual flirting that it starts setting off alarm bells.

Scott would deny anything being wrong with him, since he doesn’t feel different. Which, in the end, just outs him and his feelings to you which leaves you stunned for a while.

You end up having to sit with him and hold his hand to make him stop resisting treatment, since he’s way too focused and flustered about holding your hand.

Maybe your powers act up a bit from having these feelings put on display, because yeah, your team leader is such a damn smokeshow and he’s charming in his own way. But you never thought hed actually like you of all people.

It’s pretty awkward in the medical wing for a couple of moments, with Scott wanting to jump into the ocean at how embarrassed he feels. It doesn’t help when you grow a couple of sizes when you realize all the times you two have been grinding on each other during spars, and the table breaks right under you.

Being thrown to the floor at least makes Scott laugh. Enough for him to roll over and pull your mask off, because it’s not fair only you get to see how flustered he is, right? (it’s also because he wants to see if you are disgusted by him, but sssshhh, don’t tell anybody)

When he sees how flustered you are about it, how you keep worrying your lip and looking away it makes his heart flutter.

Scott has always been good at reading people, it comes with the job. But realizing other people like him has never been his strong suit, so he’s never really thought about it.

In the end you two kiss, even if it’s pretty clumsy and a bit weird with you being at least 8 feet tall, but you make it work. Good thing Scott doesn’t mind the size difference.

It takes a moment for you to shrink back to normal size, and you two just spend some time sitting on the floor feeling flustered and talking about it. Scott likes order in his things, so of course hed want to get this right too.

You two are not surviving leaving the medical wing for long though, especially when the rest of the team sees the smashed table. Everyone knows the real reason, but there’s so much teasing about “what were yall doing in there, huh?”

But you guys survive, even if Scott does get huffy and blushy about it. you get back at the teasing by putting the items of the teammates in places they cant reach.

[the-offside-rule]

Out of Her Depth - Chapter 3: The Superbowl Party

Out of Her Depth: The Masterlist

Saoirse wasn’t sure how she ended up at a Super Bowl party in Cinccinati when she could’ve been at home in Monaco, enjoying a quiet evening with her sim rig before having to go to London for the car launches, but Daniella had insisted, and when Daniella insisted, it was nearly impossible to say no.

Now she stood in the middle of a crowded penthouse, surrounded by NFL players, influencers, and celebrities, feeling completely out of place. Saoirse adjusted the jacket she wore over her black top and crossed her arms, sticking close to Daniella like a lifeline. She watched the TV screen, but the chaos of American football made no sense to her. The constant stopping and starting, the endless rules, what was the point?

"You look miserable." Daniella teased, sipping her drink. "Am I that obvious?" Saoirse muttered. "Painfully." Daniella laughed, nudging her. "Come on. Loosen up! It’s a party." Saoirse sighed. "I am trying, but I can't. I hate America." Ja'Marr came over, pecking Daniella's cheek. "What'd I miss?" He asked, hangin is arm around Daneilla's shoulders. "I wanna introduce her to some of your teammates. Expand her social circle."

"Sounds good to me. Maybe try-"

"No need." Saoirse shook her head before she could even finish. "I'm all good." Ja’Marr Chase, Daniella’s boyfriend and one of the biggest names in the NFL liked Saoirse. He liked how quick she was with her words. He also knew someone else who was smart with their words, and in the same position as Saoirse at that moment; so very single, and practically impossible to get out of their house. "C’mon, O’Reilly. Plenty of people to talk to. It’s time to socialize for once."

Saoirse narrowed her eyes at him. "I socialize." She quipped. "When’s the last time you left your apartment in Monaco?" He asked. She opened her mouth, then hesitated. She wouldn’t leave the place if she could help it and everyone that knew her knew it. "Exactly." He grinned, taking a swig of his drink. Daniella smirked. “He’s got a point, you know. Just pick anyone and try talk to them."

Saoirse rolled her eyes, taking a sip of her drink. "Fine. If I have to make conversation—where’s the really good-looking one?" Ja’Marr raised an eyebrow. "Who?"

"Haven't a clue." She said, shrugging. "All I know is he's always on my for you page and hes an American Footballer that plays for your team." A voice behind her cut in smoothly.

"You can just call it football, you know. Since you’re in the States."

Saoirse turned, heart skipping a beat. Joe Burrow stood there, casually leaning against the bar with a beer in hand, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. For the first time that night, Saoirse had no words. Joe tilted his head. "You good?" She blinked, gathering herself. "Might beed to lay off the bacardi but I should be alright." She replied, her stunned face still not changing, apart from a pink blush colouring her cheeks. He chuckled, extending a hand. "Joe."

"Saoirse." She shook it, feeling the warmth of his grip before pulling away quickly. From the corner of her eye, she spotted Daniella grinning like a Cheshire cat, while Ja’Marr watched with amusement.

The game continued, though Saoirse barely followed. By the time the first quarter ended, she looked up at the screen, frowning. "So, does this mean Kendrick Lamar is performing now?" Joe laughed, shaking his head. "Not yet. That’s halftime." Saoirse's eyebrows knotted. "So what's this then?"

Joe smirked. "You really don’t get football, huh?"

"Not American football, no." He shifted closer, nodding toward the screen. "Alright, I got you. I’ll explain." He said, his hand resting on the counter behind Saoirse. Saoirse arched an eyebrow, crossing her arms and looking up at the blonde. "Wish you all the best."

For the next twenty minutes, Joe patiently walked her through the rules. Saoirse compared everything to rugby, making the sport sound far more brutal than Joe intended. But she listened, her haz eyes flickering with curiosity, and for the first time all night, she felt engaged.

Daniella leaned against Ja’Marr, watching the scene unfold with pure satisfaction. "She’s actually talking to him." Ja’Marr smirked. "And he’s actually talking back." It had been a long time since Joe had taken an interest in anyone. But watching him now, laughing with the sharp-tongued Irish driver, Ja’Marr had a feeling that might be about to change.

The game carried on in the background, but Saoirse and Joe were lost in their own conversation, quick-witted and fast-paced, neither of them missing a beat. "Okay, real question-" Saoirse said suddenly, tilting her head at him. "Do you genuinely think that bleached buzzcut was a good idea?" Joe groaned, running a hand through his current, much better-looking haircut. "I knew this was coming."

"Well?" She pressed, smirking. "You know, for someone that doesnt watch football, you know a lot about certain players." He grinned. "Or just you. Now, answer the question." He sighed. "Alright, listen—I had just broken up with my girlfriend around that time, and I needed a change. It was an impulsive decision." Saoirse rolled her eyes. "Ah, the classic post-breakup hair transformation. Should’ve just gotten bangs." Joe laughed. "Yeah, that definitely would’ve gone well for me."

"Like the bleached buzzcut did?"

"Hey, it's my turn." He said, leaning forward, thinking for a moment before deciding to keep the conversation on a similar theme to what it was at. "Would you ever dye your hair a different colour?"

“I already do.”

Joe blinked. "Wait, what?" She grinned. "I’m actually a brunette. But I’ve been getting highlights since I was like fourteen, and over time, it just sort of… stayed. Now it looks natural." Joe pointed at her. "So you also dye your hair. You can’t judge me for dying my hair last year." Saoirse smirked. "I did not judge you for dying it."

"Then what did you judge?" She leaned in slightly, eyes glinting. "The style." Joe let out a laugh, shaking his head. "Ja'Marr is right. You are ruthless." She shrugged. "And yet, you’re still here talking to me." He grinned. "Guess I like a challenge."

The game was nearing its end, but Saoirse barely noticed. She and Joe hadn’t stopped talking since the halftime show ended—except for the few times a touchdown or a big play pulled their attention to the screen. Even then, their conversation picked up right where it left off, flowing as easily as if they’d known each other for years.

Saoirse leaned back against the bar, her empty drink in her hand, a lazy smile on her lips. "I have to admit, I actually enjoyed watching this." Joe smirked, tilting his head at her. "We didn’t exactly watch the game." She chuckled. "True." They exchanged a glance, both knowing that, despite being at a Super Bowl party, the game had become secondary.

Joe took a sip of his beer before asking, "So, how often do you come to the States?" Saoirse shrugged. "Other than races or promotional events? Never." Joe tsked, shaking his head. "Yeah, see, we can’t have that." She arched a brow. "What are you on about?" Instead of answering right away, Joe held out his hand. "Pass me your eyeliner." Saoirse blinked. "My what?"

"Your eyeliner." He nodded toward her winged liner. "You’ve got to have one in that tiny purse of yours."

"In my bag."

"Huh?"

"In Ireland, we call it-"

"Saoirse. Eyeliner if you have it, please."

Still skeptical, she reached into her bag and handed it to him. "If this is some weird American thing, I fear I might get the ick." Joe grinned as he gently took her hand, his touch firm but easy. With careful precision, he uncapped the eyeliner and, in bold, neat numbers, wrote his phone number across the back of her hand. Saoirse glanced at it, then up at him, unimpressed but intrigued. "This is your grand plan?"

"What? They do it in the movies." He said, handing her the eyeliner back. "You could’ve just asked me for my phone." She said. "If you don't text me tomorrow, I can just tell myself the number rubbed off when you were sleeping and you can't. If I put it into your phone, I'd have no excuse. But this-" He tapped her hand. "This is now your excuse to come back to the U.S. sooner and more often." She rolled her eyes, though a small smile played on her lips. "You’re awfully confident." Joe shrugged. "Confidence never hurt anyone."

Saoirse huffed a laugh, shaking her head. "Except maybe in racing." Joe leaned in slightly, his voice dropping just enough to be playful. "Luckily I'm an American football player." Saoirae gasped. "Oh my god you said it." Saoirse met his gaze, holding it for just a second longer than necessary before looking away, a rare warmth creeping onto her face.

Daniella, watching from across the room, nudged Ja’Marr. "Told you." She whispered. Ja’Marr sighed and reached into his pocket, taking out a ten dollar bill. "What's it feel like always being right?"

"Pretty good, babe. Pretty good."

[winterwhisperz-blog]

Ignore how this is my first hc in like…awhile

IM A LIL RUSTY PLS HAVE MERCY

So hi <33 it’s nearing Valentine’s Day which means “omg what would the ts lis do for Valentine’s Day??”

These are far from perfect but I hope you enjoy !! :D

Valentine’s Day In Eridia

Warnings: Rustyyy, a lil suggestive in some of them but nothing too bad, Ais is mentioned to be a lil depressed,and Probably ooc !!

Notes: Gn reader, fluff!

Mhin

Starting with my favorite hshshshs

Mhin isn’t one that usually celebrates things—they don’t see the point. They’re living in an apocalyptic world they need to survive not waste time on chocolates and the stress of making the perfect evening.

But then there’s you…and they end up doing a lot of ‘unnecessary’ things for you even subconsciously.

Despite their grumblings, they do end up finding out how to celebrate.

STAR GAZING !!!! Duh !!

Simple and sweet, just putting aside time for you two to be close and gaze at the night sky.

Butbutbut !! I had an idea !! That may be just utterly silly but I’ll try to make it coherent.

Imagine this okay !

Mhin goes to visit you, shoulders hunched as they try to avoid getting pushed around by the massive crowd. The music is loud, boisterous, too much.

And you realize that when you find them trying to withhold murderous rage in a dark corner.

You had wanted to try out dancing, but you know the crowd in the Wet Wick is going to make that impossible to enjoy. For either just Mhin or both of you if you also don’t like crowds.

So you go to your favorite spot instead. the place you usually watch stars at.

And idk ?? I always pictured that happening on a freaking roof because I personally want to hang out on a roof but you can imagine something different if you want.

The music can still be heard from below, but it’s far more muffled and bearable.

SO !!! okay if this is cringey spare me please LOOK AWAY !

Hem hem…dancing on the roof !!

The music is loud enough for it to not be awkward hshsh-and the moon is out, the stars are clearer than you’ve ever seen them

And it may be silly but it’s the good type of silly okay. The 3 am sleepover type goofy.

You’re having pointless fun. Dancing in a world that’s dying more each day. You’re both cursed beyond a known cure. But you, and surprisingly even Mhin, forget that for a night.

OKAY THAT WAS SUPER LONG MY BAD

Can you tell who my favorite is

Leander

the absolute OPPOSITE of Mhin

He goes ALL out. This is not everyone’s holiday anymore. This is YOUR holiday. His and yours. This day is about only YOU two now.

You open your door and his stupid face is already there with arms holding a mountain of presents.

“Omg how did you afford all this??”

HES RICH !!! STUPID RICH BOY

The presents range from chocolates to a new wardrobe. Especially couple outfits. Especially VALENTINES DAY SPECIFIC couple outfits.

If you’re not comfy with that tho he’d be okay with that too. “As long as people know ur mine it’s fine with me ☺️” *smacks him*

After presents he wants to carry you downstairs. (If ur taller than him you can carry him downstairs. Actually if ur smaller you should still do it. Leander scarf.)

The bloodhounds withhold their dread for the day ahead because he is DOWN SO BAD

Heart shaped breakfast

Pink drinks (don’t drink them)

Love poems

KISSES !

When it’s evening the bloodhounds bust out the violins and candlelight. (When someone goes out of key Leander smiles at them like: 🙂” and they get pulled from the stage.)

Then to finish it all off, he shows off his magic by conjuring a trail of rose petals that lead upstairs.

You wake up the next morning and Leander is like “): you still love me right? Even tho it’s not Valentine’s Day anymore right?”

Ais

Ooooo this is tricky

Ais is very emotion-driven, but he’s not great at expressing those emotions.

He may try to do something classy for you (by Ocudeus’s command because I love that vision)

But it’s obvious he’s uncomfortable and unsure, so you have to tell him you’ll figure out how to celebrate (if you even want to) this day your own way and not what is socially expected.

He mainly just wants you. He wants time with you, to feel you, to hear you and most importantly, relax with you.

You quiet his mind, and so all he really wants is your presence.

Mainly all you do is cuddle, eat together, have a romantic sparing match 🥰✨ and maybe even take a nice bath together.

He loves having his hair washed by you—maybe he even forgets to do it sometimes due to those unseen battles you know he has—and ahh frick I forgot we have cursed hands.

Maybe you wash his hair with your toes idk.

Or wear like those !! Rubber gloves !!

Point is

It’s way more natural with you guys. A domestic routine that you slip so easily into.

It’s a day without any stress, and focused solely on the two of you taking care of each other.

And of course, you don’t forget to get Valentine’s Day treats for all the soulless <33 (especially for Princess because duh)

Kuras

Another toughie!

I can’t decide if he has a hard time because he busies himself with work or since he’s had so many relationships since he’s immortal he knows to set aside that time

To make it easier for me let’s just say he busies himself.

He’s extremely hard on himself so I can picture him thinking he’s undeserving of even celebrating in the first place. (If we’re ignoring him making a cake for Mhin shshsh)

And maybe his heart is just tired.

He’s had lovers, he’s watched them go, and with you? You’re different to him somehow.

He doesn’t know if he should indulge in these feelings. If he can handle the heartbreak again.

Luckily you know Kuras well enough by now to see the guilt and doubt before it digs itself too deep.

With help from Ais, Mhin, and Leander (he inserted himself but also he’s a peacemaker between Ais and Mhin lmaohshs) you manage to convince Kuras to leave the clinic in those there’s hands and just focus on you two.

I like to think Kuras starts out more somber. He’s quiet. Only a small twitch to his brow warns of any building anxieties.

To set the scene more I kinda picture him like ?? As a calmer Julian Devorak in this situation ahshshs just in the way he’s like ‘do I deserve this?’

At one point you take his hands, “Kuras, Talk to me.”

He tries to deny it, to hide it gently and inconspicuously. But you know him. And the Angel can no longer hide his fear from you.

You take him somewhere quiet, where you can sit down and just enjoy each other’s company. Maybe you watch the sunset and like ?? You remind him that you aren’t going anywhere. Not now.

He spends more time just kinda cupping your cheeks, memorizing your face with caresses and soft touches.

When you get home, he wishes to memorize the rest of you too. If you have to become a memory one day, he wants it to be one that consumes him.

Vere

Thought this was gonna be tricky because vere is my ENEMY when it comes to these but !! I actually have a few ideas !!

Doesn’t see the point in sappy old VALENTINE’S DAY

What? You expect him ? A GOD a DEITY to lower himself to a pointless little human tradition?

“You can celebrate me everyday 🙄 why wait ?”

But you know it’s really just because he’s uncomfortable with the idea.

Similar to Ais, he’s more of ‘actions instead of emotions’ and this is a sign of commitment! And he’s still very unsure how to proceed with that sincerely.

And maybe even the day hits some sore spots—if the theory he had a past lover is correct —

He’s just scared. And hiding it by being snarky.

So just give him time to adjust. He does come around. Especially when you don’t start with anything too deep.

You write him small notes. Nothing too sappy but loving. Maybe you add a few puns you know he’ll laugh at.

But then…*evil laugh* after he’s been used to this, and is more comfortable in the relationship—

He spoils you soooo bad

Maybe he even goes overboard with it lmaoshshs.

He turns it into a whole week of just celebrating you. (Not as loudly as Leander, though. He wants to keep it secret so ya know—the Senobium doesn’t ruin it)

Spa day but inside, he wants to see you with any part of his clothes on. He’s far more touchy—he rubs his face on you like a cat HSHSH

And just a looot of time in bed. Doesn’t even need to be sexual, he just wants you close. His treasure. His his his his.

Im becoming a vere girlie and I’m so unwell

OKAY WE’VE REACHED THE END WOOO !!

I hope you enjoyed <33 if this was cringey….🥺 pls don’t murder me I’ll give you ten dollars