#i just want to get a voodoo doll of him and then put it in the microwave

[rookfeatherrambles]

tonights mood is fantasizing about killing jonathan sims in fun ways. I MUST STRESS I MEAN THE CHARACTER, PEOPLE.

[writersdrug]

no thoughts just waitress!reader showing up for shifts like nothings wrong after the date situation

just keeping it calm and professional. working her shifts efficiently and no longer bantering/flirting with ghost, who would rather reader melt down and tear into him than putting up the walls around herself hehe

Ok I'm combining some asks here that had some different ideas - I got so many of you guys demanding reparation for making reader cry 😭 here's the comfort chapter! (Still a tad angsty at the beginning)

Ghost had finished your tips for you that night. He had half a mind to slide a hundred in your payout folder as an apology for ruining your date... but what good would that do? That would make you quit for good, if you hadn't already.

He lays in his bed, eyes stuck to the ceiling, still in his jeans and black shirt. He wishes he could snuff out the guilt that sits heavily in his gut. He wonders what you're doing - probably crying, possibly making a half-assed voodoo doll of himself and stabbing his chest with a dull steak knife, because that's all he feels right now.

He gets up early the next day after a rough three hours of sleep. He lumbers down the stairs to the office - Price is there, sorting out cash and working on the next supply order. He looks at Simon, who's rubbing his eyes and looking worse for wear.

"Mornin'." Price says, turning back to the monitor. Ghost grunts in response, dropping himself onto the couch behind Price. His head aches from the lack of sleep, thoughts circling in his mind about how to apologize to you. He can imagine you won't want to talk to him - or, if you do, it'll most likely be profanities wedged between insults. He'd love for you to berate him right now, and make him feel like he got what he deserved.

Price sighs. "You sleep alright?"

"I've had better."

"Nightmare?"

"... yea, somethin' like that."

Price huffs. "I'm workin' front of house today." He says, grabbing the bag of tips and standing up. "Goin' down to drop these in the safe, then I'll help you stock up."

Simon opens his eyes, looking at Price with confusion. "You?"

Price nods. "Dove called out sick. Sounded like she's got the lurgy."

That delivers the final blow to Simon. He knows you're not sick - you're avoiding him now. All plans to apologize are now out the window, and the more time passes, the harder it'll be to do it.

"You've only got yourself to blame, Simon." Price says, heading down to the restaurant floor.

He curses under his breath as Price leaves. How he heard about what happened - he could only assume it had been from Soap. He drops his arm over his face and groans. He wants to call out himself, but then they might as well shut down the entire pub for the day.

Should he try phoning you? Would you answer, let alone allow him to get more than five words out? What would he say? "Sorry I ruined your date, I was jealous tha' ya got a life outside of the pub." There is no variation of an apology that feels like it would be enough. He made you cry, for fucks sake. That was a punishment in and of itself, but he still had to own up to what he'd done.

He sighs loudly; his body feels heavy as he drags himself off the couch, trudging down the stairs. He still has a bar to run.

It had to have been the longest shift of Simon's life, and he even wrapped things up a bit earlier than usual. He didn't have the gift of your incessant chatting or being able to tease you to make the time pass. Price was a solid companion in front of house, but there was hardly a conversation to be held - even with the usual bar crowd. The patrons had a look of confusion for the majority of the night, wondering why Soap wasn't popping his head out of the kitchen to chat every once in a while - and why the hell the owner was serving tables, and not the chipper, spunky waitress.

When Simon had locked up for the night, he noticed your bike was no longer in the alley. Johnny must have dropped it off on the way back to his place.

Today isn't much different - at least, not for Simon. He's still suffering from a lack of sleep, he's irritable (he had a spat with Johnny in the morning, over something he can't even remember), and his work ethic is suffering. He's not worried about slicing bar fruit; it'll give him something to do later, when he needs it. Maybe the rush will kick him back into shape.

He stares at the dishes on the edge of the bar - they're all in need of a good polish, but he finds himself stuck on staring at the bar fridge. There's nothing else he needs to stock up on - it's packed completely full with wine, champagne, and cans of beer. He gently kicks the side of it with his boot. He should be checking the to-go boxes, helping Soap with setting up the condiments and soups, making sure the tables all had full salt and pepper shakers. That's what you would be doing. But, you're not here, and neither is Price. He can only hope tonight isn't as busy as the previous night, otherwise he'll have to close some tables. Which would make customers mad. Which would make Price mad. Which would-

Suddenly, he hears three loud bangs against the back door. He freezes, the sound triggering a Pavlovian response. He immediately looks up to the kitchen window - Soap opens the door, and you come jogging inside. You greet him with a smile. He asks how you're feeling, and you say "much better".

He doesn't know what to do with himself, but he just stands there like an idiot as you hang your bag and jacket on a hook. Stands there as you push your way into the restaurant, barely sparing him a glance as you scurry by him. Stands there as you run up the stairs, two at a time, diving nose-first into your chores so you can avoid Simon.

He can't speak. Should he? What can he say? "I'm sorry," for starters, but it isn't that simple. He thought you might have quit, and was preparing his heart for the worst. But now, here you are, running back and forth through the pub and setting up your tables - and it feels like you've never been farther away from him.

In all honesty, you can't bring yourself to talk to him either. You're feeling just as ashamed with your behavior two nights ago as he is about his own. Why the fuck would you expect someone - let alone your boss - to do your chores so that you could run off and have fun on a date? Not only that, but you'd made a scene; you felt like you had half-assed the ice bins in your scramble to get them cleaned, and then you sobbed in the middle of the restaurant. The cherry on top, however, was when you called Price yesterday and told him you had a cold, calling out of your shift. It was a cowardly thing to do, and you could tell he wasn't buying your story.

But: bills need to be paid, rent is due, and you can't lose this job. So you sucked it up and came in today - Simon is easy enough to ignore, separated from you by the bar.

At first, the quiet bartender was relieved that you had showed up for your shift - he wouldn't have searched for a new waitress if you had quit, instead choosing to deal with the consequences of his actions. But he's quickly getting more and more irritated with the silent treatment you're serving. You only talk to him when necessary: a simple "thanks" when you grab your drinks and run them to your tables. You busy yourself between rolling silverware, (over)stocking napkins and condiments, and even going so far as to spray the menus down and scrub them with a rag. You spend more time in the kitchen with Soap; each peal of laughter shared between the two of you is another arrow in Simon's chest. He's stuck behind the bar, listening to woes spilling from drunken lips, forced to watch you flit around and pretend he doesn't exist.

You can't keep this up forever.

Still, you do for most of the night. Even when your shift is coming to an end, the kitchen closed while you close the tabs for your remaining tables, you don't cave and sit at the bar with Simon. You sit at the farthest table from him, the farthest chair, in fact, skimming over your tip receipts - and talking to Soap (who was only able to sit with you since you had helped him knock out his tasks).

Simon's never been as angry with Soap as he is now - and the worst part is he knows it's not justified. He's watching from behind the bar, polishing glasses so hard they might wane into cups. He wants to talk to you. He will talk to you before the night is over. He doesn't expect forgiveness, but he expects that you'll at least let him offer an apology.

One of the regulars at the bar looks to whatever Simon is glaring at, chuckling quietly when he sees you. "Trouble in paradise?"

"Stuff it, Mike." Simon grumbles.

Meanwhile, you walk back from closing out your last table, plopping back in the booth with Soap. "What are you doing after this?"

"Sleepin'." he replies instantly, tossing back an onion ring. "Been dealin' with a grumpy bawbag since early this mornin', and I'm beat."

You glance over at the bar; Simon's back is facing you as he organizes the beer glasses. You really should apologize to him... you just couldn't figure out when the right time would be. He'd still be working by the time your shift ends, and you don't even know if he wants to speak to you at this point.

"Is he mad at me?" you ask, tapping your pen on the table.

Soap sighs. "I'm not goin' t' be the middle man, Bonnie." he says, looking at you intently. "If ye feel like somethin' needs to be said, go talk to 'im."

You groan, leaning back against the seat. "It's not that simple."

"Why not?"

"It just isn't! He's already pissed at me, and he probably thinks I'm a slacker. What good is an apology?"

"Ye won't know 'til ye talk to 'im, hmm?"

"What if he fires me?"

Johnny barks with laughter, and you frown. "I'm being serious."

"He'd never fire ye." he says, getting up out of the booth. He stretches both arms above his head and lets out a grunt. "In fact, he was throwin' a fit yesterday n' today 'fore ye came in. Bitch took it out on me."

You winced. "I'm sorry-"

"Save it fer 'im." Soap interjected. He left you at the booth with the onion rings and your tips, disappearing into the kitchen. You huff, hunching back over your tips and scribbling through them.

Deep down, you know Soap is right. If anything, you could just apologize to Simon. If he chooses to be grumpy about it, so be it. You've got tough skin... still, you can't stand the thought of him being upset with you - not because of your work ethic, but because you liked him. A lot. And you wanted him to like you back, even if it was in the most platonic way.

But that didn't change anything. An apology was due, and you were going to give him one before you left tonight.

You grabbed an onion ring and popped it in your mouth, grimacing when you realized they were cold. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Simon making his was across the floor to your booth.

Great. Guess the apology is coming now.

He stops at the edge of the table, wiping his hands in a rag. You pretend to punch numbers into your phone's calculator, but they're all random - you just want to look like you're busy.

"May I sit?" he asks, tucking the rag into his back pocket.

You mumble out a "sure", still not looking at him. You hear his large frame slide into the seat across from you, polyester squeaking underneath his weight. You continue to do random equations on your calculator, letting a thick blanket of tension settle between the two of you. You can feel his stare burning into your head, his arms folded over his chest... and you notice that his mask is in his hand. You finally look up at him.

It's not the first time you've seen his face - you've caught glimpses of it when he smokes in the alley, or when he eats whatever Soap throws under the warmer for you and Simon. But this time, he's not taking it off to be convenient. And, dear god, you're just now paying attention to how scarred, rugged, and handsome he is - but now's not the time for those kinds of thoughts. You feel like he's reaching out an olive branch, showing a possible vulnerable side to himself. So, you place your pen on the table and lean back.

He stays quiet for a moment longer, trying to figure out how to start this. He wants to make sure that you know he's here to apologize, not to ask for forgiveness. From his silence, you assume he's waiting for you to go first.

"I'm sorry about Tuesday night." you say, eyes dropping to the table. Simon's astounded that you're the one apologizing, but you continue. "I shouldn't have reacted the way I did, and I'm sorry for trying to dump my job on you."

He feels worse, now. Was that even possible? He was expecting anger, insults - a detailed, frustrated explanation of what you did last night since you did not go on that date. But you're the one saying sorry? You think you're to blame for all of this unspoken aggression? Oh, you really do confuse him, sometimes...

"You don't need t' be sorry, luv." he says, gazing at you with a softness you'd never seen before, not in his brown eyes, at least.

"No, I do." you say, nearly pleading with him to let you be apologetic. "I was being a brat, and whether you usually do the ice bins or not, I shouldn't have expected you would do them without asking." You push your pen on the table, doing your best to convey your feelings. "And yeah, I was late for my date, but... well, he sounded like a dick, anyways."

Simon chuckles, watching you stare at the table. "Well, I owe you an apology, too. I jus'..." he sighed heavily, running a hand down his jaw. "I don' even know. Guess I was bein' lazy, or... I got jealous tha' you've got a life outside of this pub. Feels like you belong here."

He immediately regrets saying that - it sounds way too possessive and... just straight up weird. But you smile, taking comfort in the fact that he still wants you here. That this was the whole reason behind the mess.

"Soap called you a bitch. Said you were an asshole all day."

Simon scoffs. "Yea... 'm pretty sure Price would tell ya the same. And he wants ya back, too. Couldn't stand waitin' on tables, he was tryin' t' trade places with me all night."

You laugh. The world seems alright again - not perfect, but good enough. It might take a night of sleeping the tension away before you're fully back to your normal self, but this is a leap in the right direction. You look at Simon, into his brown, steady eyes, as they stare right back at you.

He breaks the silence. "I really am sorry for ruinin' your date."

You smile softly. "Thank you, Simon. I forgive you."

And just like that, the weight of his guilt is lifted away. The lingering sourness remains, a reminder that he had made you cry. But you had forgiven him, which was more than he was hoping to get tonight.

"Are we better?" you ask timidly.

He nods once. "Better."

You smile - you slowly slide your stack of receipts to him, biting your lip. "Cool - can I have my money?"

Just like that, his smirk drops - but you know it's all in good humor. He huffs, snatching the stack from the table and scoots his way out of the booth. "Always got money on the mind, eh?"

"I've always got rent on my mind." you retort, following after him with the bowl of onion rings. You plant yourself at your usual spot on the end of the bar, right near the POS where Simon cashes out your tips. He tries to hurry up, assuming you want to dip and go home after such an intense conversation. He slides the mask back over his face and punches his code in, trying to edit your tips into the system as quickly as he can.

"Simon?"

"Hm?" his response is instant, turning around to look back at you. You've got your phone on the bartop, and your back and jacket on the unoccupied seat next to you.

"Can I stay for a drink?"

He's melting on the inside, only held together by his own skin. He sets your receipts down and opts to do them later, right before whenever you decide to leave. He won't miss on an opportunity to have you stay longer.

"Course, luv. What's it gonna be?"

"You know how to make a cosmo?"

He chuckles, grabbing a glass from the shelf behind him. "Sure do."

[5sospenguinqueen]

Needle Little Love | Charles Leclerc x Ferrari! Reader

Summary: When you’re announced as Ferrari’s newest driver, fans love the budding friendship between you and Charles, especially when he adopts your penchant for crochet puns. Netflix expose that there’s more to the story. 

Warnings: Slightly suggestive content. Swearing. Fluff

2023-2024 timeline. Pinterest pics.

Requested: Yes by @rebelwrites. Find the full request here

A/N: There's a blurb halfway down

F1 Masterlist

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its_ynln just posted

liked by charles_leclerc, olliebearman and others 

its_ynln chronicles of yarnia 🧶

1,609 comments 

francisca.cgomes okay but i’m gonna need that top in all colours please

→ its_ynln let me get your measurements at zandvoort 

user1 what is charles doing here

→ its_ynln i’m plagued by his brother and we both like to go zoom?

→ arthur_leclerc just for that, i’m not coming to your celebration party in zandvoort. i’ll go party with charles

→ its_ynln don’t want you there anyway 

→ oscarpiastri @/charles_leclerc the girls are fighting again 

→ user2 i love how they’re just assuming she’ll win 

lilymhe i love my pillow! thank you thank you thank you 🌼

→ alex_albon she literally carries it everywhere and i’m not allowed to touch it 

user3 we love how racing is just her side hobby 

jackdoohan day 116 of asking you to make me my own dinosaur 

→ its_ynln i can make a voodoo doll of you if you don’t stop pestering me

→ jackdoohan i’ll be glad when you’re gone

→ user4 gone where! 

→ user5 well she is currently leading the f2 championship, and they won't let her back 

user6 drop the patterns please, babe

user7 i love how half the people here are because of her crochet, not because she drives

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f1 just posted

liked by ferraridriveracademy, oscarpiastri and others 

f1 welcome to the team @/its_ynln we look forward to seeing you on the grid in the new year 

5,533 comments

its_ynln what can i say, it’s knot just another hobby

→ user8 babe, stick to crochet. stand up comedy is not for you 

ferraridriveracademy take good care of our girl 

→ scuderiaferrari thanks for letting us have her

charles_leclerc welcome to the team 😄

→ user9 why is this the blandest welcome ever 

→ user10 someone feels threatened

→ arthur_leclerc *trying to contain his excitement

francisca.cgomes this is the best news ever. will you teach me to crochet?

→ pierregasly because stealing my girlfriend over summer break wasn’t bad enough?

→ its_ynln are you still salty that she let me touch her boobs

→ user11 i know it was to measure her chest for clothes but still.. 

scuderiaferrari are we going to have to pr train you? @/its_ynln

→ liamlawson30 yes

→ alex_albon yes 

→ jackdoohan yes

→ its_ynln why am i being attacked by twice the amount of people now? 

arthur_leclerc thank god she’s not my problem anymore 

→ its_ynln i’ll always be your problem, little leclerc 

→ oscarpiastri oh fuck, she’s my problem now

charles_leclerc just posted

liked by maxverstappen1, pierregasly and others  

charles_leclerc winter break spent somewhere sunny  

2,316 comments

scuderiaferrari come back, we miss you 

user1 um, whose hand is he reaching for in that first pic 

→ user2 idk but we should be saying thank you for dressing him in that shirt 

its_ynln is your skin ferrari red yet 

→ charles_leclerc no, i keep getting slathered in sun cream :(

→ arthur_leclerc factor 50? 

→ user3 i love that she’s bullying him before she’s even been his teammate on track

user4 this shirt looks similar to one yn posted a few weeks ago??

→ user5 and the hat!!

→ user6 omg how cute would it be if charles was asking her to crochet him some clothes 

→ user7 we love a supportive teammate

landonorris rocking the bucket hat, mate. think i can get one in papaya? 

→ charles_leclerc i’ll hook you up

oscarpiastri i miss you, dad

→ its_ynln i’m not babysitting next year. just putting that out there ahead of time 

→ charles_leclerc not even if i ask nicely?

→ its_ynln maybe if you let me win

→ charles_leclerc 🤔🤨

user8 why are we skipping past the sneaky soft launch?

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2024

“You know, we both have driver’s rooms for this sort of thing,” you breathed, giggling when Charles’ facial hair tickled your neck. 

His mouth sucked gently on the pulse point thrumming beneath his tongue, tracing kisses from your ear down to your collarbone. The stack of worn tyres cushioned your back as he pressed your harder against them when you reached around to pinch his backside. 

“Oi, I’m talking to you.” 

“I’m sorry, mon ange, but you looked so good when you were giving that interview. And you kept laughing-”

“Oh, so it’s not that I’m so irresistible that you couldn't wait until we were safely in the garage. It’s that you were jealous.” You raised an eyebrow at him, unable to fight the smile at his rougish grin. 

“You are irresistible,” he murmured, hands snaking around your waist to pull you flush against him. “Why else would I be making out with you in an alley behind the motorhome?”

“Because you’re a horndog.” 

You and Charles had been dating for the past year, having met after he caught you winding up his younger brother one race weekend. Ferrari had been eyeing you up all year, asking the Monagesque what he thought of you, prompting him to pay closer attention. Prior to you signing your contract, you’d had to disclose your relationship to Fred Vasseur. Whilst the senior members of the team were aware of your more-than-teammates status, the majority of the paddock were in the dark. Both of you wished to keep the relationship under wraps until your rookie year in F1 had passed, reducing speculation that Charles was the only reason you got your seat. Sneaking around the motorhome was a lot safer than making out behind tyre stacks, but Charles didn’t care at this moment in time. 

“You going to be nice and let me win today?” He teased, nibbling at your lower lip. 

“I think you mean, am I going to let you massage my feet after I win? I won here last year.”

“Yes, yes, bow down to you.”

“Well, I do like you on your knees.” 

Grinning, Charles captured your lips with his once more. Tongue swiping against your bottom lip, he groaned against you when your tongue met his. Hands snaking into his hair, you tugged gently on the soft strands, enjoying the whimper you pulled from his lips. He tilted his hips, pressing himself against you. 

“The things you do to me.”

A loud cough - more of a throat clearing - tore the two of you apart. Wide eyed and panting, you both turned in horror to look at the misfortune person who stumbled across you. Fred Vasseur stood at the end of the alleyway, shaking his head at his two drivers. It was bad enough watching them make heart eyes at each other during data reviews but this. Behind him stood a cameraman and a mic guy, mouths agape at their luck. Drive to Survive would be flooded with viewers once they teased this. Breaking News: Ferrari drivers caught locking lips in secret tryst. 

“I’ve got Netflix following me around today.” Fred said bluntly, staring you both down. 

“Oh crap.”

“Yeah.” 

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next day

charles_leclerc just posted

liked by its_ynln, arthur_leclerc and others

charles_leclerc you could say we’re a close knit bunch

4,416 comments

its_ynln i fell for you hook, yarn and stitcher 

user8 not charles adopting her crochet puns 

jackdoohan so he gets a toothless keychain and i still don’t get my dinosaur? 

→ liamlawson30 that’s because he’s sleeping with her

→ jackdoohan if that’s the price...

scuderiaferrari finally. we were getting sick and tired of archiving all the pics we took of you both being cute. now we can post! 

→ arthur_leclerc please don’t. it’s bad enough seeing it in person for the past two years. i don’t want it on my timeline

→ user9 two years! they’ve been together two years! 

alex_albon can’t believe you posted a photo of her in a nice dress and didn't even give her photo creds

→ its_ynln he’s intimidated by my raw talent 

→ oscarpiastri i watched you flip over the handles of your bike the other day 

→ its_ynln raw talent

→ charlesleclerc @/its_ynln when was this? why didn’t you tell me? are you okay? 

georgrussell63 did she beat you?

→ charles_leclerc i let her win

→ landonorris yeah, you’ve been saying that all season, mate

→ its_ynln you got a nice consolation price out of it tho

→ arthur_leclerc ew!

user10 i love that charles has posted this and yn hasn’t mentioned anything about him lol 

→ user11 her entire insta is the two sides of her personality; car and yarn. can't have a man ruining the aesthetic

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A huge thank you to @rebelwrites for the request. I hope this lives up to expectations

Requests for F1 smau's are open. You can see who I write for on my Masterlist :)

[moonpascal]

VOODOO DOLL II T.N

summary: theo can’t get you out of his head. which could only mean you put a spell on him. or loosely based on a song

warnings: mean theo, language, hurt/comfort l WC 3.4k

authors note: fourth time trying to post this so let’s see how that goes

“She’s not going to magically appear if you keep staring at her table,” Mattheo muttered, irritation clear in his tone. Theo scoffed but kept his gaze fixed on the empty spot at the Gryffindor table.

Theo couldn’t stand you. That’s what he told anyone who would listen—you were too nice, too annoying, and every little thing you did got on his nerves.

The way you helped anyone in need, no matter if they treated you unfairly in the past. How you smiled at everyone and everything. Always in a good mood, when Theo couldn’t fathom why.

“Good morning, guys! Did you finish the Arithmancy homework from yesterday?” Your cheerful voice cut through his thoughts, nearly making him jump. Speak of the devil, he thought bitterly.

Theo rolled his eyes at your question. “Forgot again, or just getting lazier?” he sneered.

But your smile didn’t waver; if anything, it grew brighter. “Actually, I just need help with sections 6 and 8. I stayed up all night and still couldn’t figure them out!”

He couldn’t understand why you always talked to them—why you always acted so friendly with the rivals of your house. Maybe that was another reason he couldn’t stand you; it felt like you were deliberately trying to get under their skin.

“Sucks to be—” Mattheo began, but Theo jabbed his elbow into his side, cutting him off with a sharp look.

“Just here, take my paper,” he grumbled, pulling out his parchment and thrusting it toward you. Your fingers brushed his briefly, and Theo jerked his hand back as a tingling sensation shot through him.

“Thanks, Theodore!” you beamed, practically skipping back to your table, which only irritated Theo more.

“What the hell was that?” Mattheo demanded.

“Fuck if I know. I couldn’t stop myself,” Theo muttered. “I wanted to tell her to piss off and figure it out on her own.” He scowled, shoving his food away, his appetite suddenly gone.

“Maybe she’s got you under some spell, Nott,” Draco chuckled. “Drink anything suspicious lately?”

“Shut up, Malfoy,” Theo snapped, the idea unsettling him. The thought of you having that kind of influence over him was ridiculous.

He could still feel the ghost of your touch, as if you were still caressing his hand, even though you were now back at your table, tongue out in concentration as you scribbled down the answers.

“Don’t get why she didn’t just ask Granger for help,” Lorenzo chimed in, mouth full of food.

“Because Hermione wouldn’t just give her the answers. She’d explain it step by step—which she doesn’t have time for—since it’s her next class,” Theo replied, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

The boys exchanged knowing smirks. “And how exactly do you know that?” Blaise teased.

Theo realized how that sounded, but before he could defend himself, you reappeared to hand him his paper back.

“You’re a lifesaver, Theodore! I owe you one,” you said, squeezing his bicep in appreciation before heading off to class early as ever.

“Yeah, whatever,” Theo muttered, trying to ignore the lingering warmth of your touch, the burning sensation in his chest, and the rapid beat of his heart whenever you were near.

Once you were out of sight, his heart began to slow, but a different ache settled in. It was almost like he missed you—which was ridiculous. He shook the thought from his mind immediately.

Maybe someone did slip him something; whether it was a prank or an accidental slip-up, he had to get rid of it, and fast.

———

Days passed, and Theo only felt worse. He constantly thought you were nearby, even when he knew you were in a different class on the other side of the school. Your touch was ingrained in his mind, as if he could still feel you. Some days, it felt like you were right next to him, invading his personal space, only for him to see you across the field, chatting with your friends.

His friends were no help when he mentioned it. They just teased him endlessly on having a crush on a Gryffindor, which he quickly shot down.

You were an annoyance. Someone who bugged the hell out of him, and that was it—nothing more.

To make matters worse, you both got paired up in Muggle Studies. A class he took just to piss off his dad was now backfiring spectacularly.

The assignment was to write an essay about what Muggles believed to be ‘witchcraft,’ which seemed simple enough—if only he didn’t have to work with you.

“Okay so I was thinking of voodoo dolls, because I think others are gonna pick psychics or magicians,” you started, flipping through some pages of your textbook, “and I think we could get extra points if we somehow have a physical doll!”

He could feel your excitement radiating off of you and it was nauseating but he nodded and agreed. You went on and said you would send an owl to your mother to see if she could buy one from the shops in your hometown.

Theo barely paid attention as you rambled on about your plans for the essay. The way you spoke with so much enthusiasm, your eyes bright with excitement—it was almost unbearable. Not because it annoyed him, but because it made his chest tighten in a way he wasn’t ready to confront.

“Do you even care about this project?” you asked suddenly, snapping him out of his thoughts. You were watching him with a hint of concern in your eyes, which only made him feel more unsettled.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I care about passing,” he muttered, avoiding your gaze. “But I don’t see why you’re so invested in it.”

You shrugged, the usual brightness in your expression dimming a little. “I just think it’s interesting, that’s all. And maybe…” You hesitated, then added, “I thought it’d be nice to work with you.”

Theo blinked, caught off guard by your honesty. His initial reaction was to snap back with a sarcastic comment, to push you away as he always did. But something stopped him.

“Why?” The question slipped out before he could stop himself.

You looked down, fiddling with your quill. “I don’t know. You’re different from most people, Theodore. You’re not afraid to be yourself, even if that means being a little rough around the edges.”

He stared at you, stunned into silence. Was that how you saw him? And why did it make his heart skip a beat? He could feel his defenses cracking, the walls he’d built so carefully starting to crumble.

“Anyway,” you said quickly, as if embarrassed by your admission, “I’ll let you know if my mom finds a voodoo doll. We can meet up later to go over the details?”

“Yeah… sure,” he replied, his voice sounding far away. He watched as you gathered your things, flashing him another bright smile before leaving the classroom.

Once you were gone, Theo let out a frustrated groan, slumping back in his chair. What the hell was wrong with him? He’d never let anyone get under his skin like this before. Yet, with you, it was like he had no control over his own emotions. There was something wrong with him.

The thought of you saying he was “different” kept replaying in his mind. It wasn’t an insult, but it wasn’t exactly comforting either. He hated the idea that you could have this effect on him.

As the days went on, he found himself increasingly distracted by you. The way you laughed with your friends, the way you focused on your studies, the way you went out of your way to be kind to everyone—even to him, despite how he treated you.

The next time you met to work on the project, Theo couldn’t stop his eyes from wandering to your hands as you gestured animatedly, explaining some new idea you had. He couldn’t help but wonder what it would feel like to have those hands touch him again—whether by accident or design.

When you handed him a book, he purposely brushed his fingers against yours and once more, he felt that now-familiar jolt of electricity. But this time, he didn’t pull away. Instead, he let the contact linger for just a moment longer, savoring the warmth that spread through him.

But as soon as the moment passed, he cursed himself silently. He couldn’t let this happen. You were a Gryffindor, and you represented everything he claimed to hate—yet, here he was, drawn to you like a moth to a flame.

“Is something wrong?” you asked, noticing his distant expression.

“No,” he said quickly, forcing a smirk. “Just thinking about how ridiculous this project is. Muggles and their superstitions.”

You laughed, and the sound sent another pang through his chest. “It is pretty silly, isn’t it? But it’s kind of fascinating too, don’t you think?”

Theo shrugged, playing it cool. “Sure, if you’re into that sort of thing.”

“I am,” you said with a grin. “But maybe by the end of this, you will be too.”

He rolled his eyes, but there was no real malice behind it. “Don’t count on it.”

As you continued working, Theo found himself glancing at you more often, watching the way your lips moved as you spoke, the way your eyes lit up when you got excited about something.

After the study session, Theo left with an unfamiliar smile tugging at his lips, lost in thoughts of you. He was so preoccupied that he didn’t notice Mattheo approaching from behind in the hallway.

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you,” Mattheo said, his voice laced with curiosity. “What’s with the grin? Did you win a fight?”

Theo scoffed, quickly wiping the smile from his face and replacing it with his usual scowl. “Salazar’s sake, no, I wasn’t in a fight.”

“Then why are you so happy? Snog someone? Wait—don’t tell me, did you snog Bug?” Mattheo teased, his tone dripping with mockery, fully aware of how much Theo loathed that nickname recently.

“Stop calling her that,” Theo snapped, shaking Mattheo’s arm off and feeling his good mood souring by the second.

“Oh, since when do you come to her defense? Especially when you’re the one who started calling her that,” Mattheo retorted, raising an eyebrow. The nickname had been an impulsive jab, something Theo came up with in a moment of annoyance. Now, it felt like a cruel joke.

Ignoring Mattheo, Theo continued down the hallway toward the Slytherin dorms, determined to work on his portion of the essay. But Mattheo wasn’t ready to let it go.

Once they reached the Slytherin common room, Mattheo seized the opportunity to stir the pot. “Hey, guys, doesn’t Theo seem a little… different lately?” he announced, adopting an exaggerated infomercial voice. “We barely see him, and when we do, he’s actually smiling.”

Theo halted in his tracks, irritation bubbling up inside him.

“I noticed that too,” Pansy chimed in, her tone dripping with curiosity. “He’s been sneaking off a lot.”

“Yeah, what’s the deal, Nott?” Blaise added, his voice teasing. “Too good for us now?”

Theo rolled his eyes, adjusting the stack of books you had recommended in his arms. “I’ve just been busy, you know—actually doing schoolwork.”

“Sure, and by ‘schoolwork,’ you mean hanging out with Bug,” Draco chimed in, his grin widening. “I thought you couldn’t stand her?”

“You lot are a bunch of tossers,” Theo shot back, his patience wearing thin. “Yes, I’ve been working with her because we got paired up for a project. That’s all.”

They exchanged skeptical glances, sensing there was more to the story.

“What’s the project about?” Pansy asked, her curiosity getting the better of her.

Theo let out an exasperated sigh. “It’s an essay on Voodoo dolls for Muggle Studies.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, Mattheo’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Voodoo dolls? Are you serious, Theo? You’re supposed to be the smart one here!”

Theo frowned, confused by Mattheo’s sudden outburst. “What the hell are you on about now?”

“Voodoo dolls, you daft git!” Mattheo exclaimed, practically jumping out of his seat. “They’re Muggles’ way of trying to control people! Haven’t you been paying attention? She might have one of you—that’s probably why you’ve been acting so strange!”

Theo stared at Mattheo, a mix of annoyance and unease settling in. The idea was absurd—yet the possibility gnawed at him. Was that really what was happening? It would make a lot of sense.

Theo dropped everything and bolted out of the common room, his mind racing as he stormed through the castle. The further he went, the angrier he became. How could you do this to him? He thought he was finally feeling something other than disdain toward you—only to find out you were messing with his head.

As he rounded the final corner near the Gryffindor common room, he spotted you. But you weren’t alone. You were talking to another Gryffindor, laughing that same laugh you shared with him. The sight made his blood boil, his fists clenching so tightly that his knuckles turned white.

“Was messing with my head not enough for you?” Theo shouted, his voice filled with fury. “Did you need more attention, so you found another tosser to add to your list?”

You flinched at his sudden outburst but didn’t immediately turn to face him. You quietly excused yourself from the conversation with your housemate before turning to glare at Theo.

The look you gave him was like nothing he’d ever seen on your face before—cold, angry, and so unlike the usual warmth you radiated. It unnerved him to be on the receiving end of such a glare.

“Can I help you, Nott?” you asked, your voice eerily calm. If Theo had been less blinded by his own anger, he might have noticed the tension in your jaw and the way your fists clenched at your sides.

“Yes, you can start by telling me what the hell you did to me!” Theo took a step closer, looming over you in an attempt to intimidate, but you stood your ground, unfazed.

“I haven’t done anything—”

“Don’t lie to me!” Theo interrupted, his hands gripping your shoulders as if shaking you might jog your memory. “You came up with that stupid voodoo doll project, and ever since then, you’ve been in my head day in and day out! So don’t act like you don’t know what’s going on!”

You shoved him off you, your scoff laced with disbelief and hurt. “You’re so full of yourself, Nott. Do you really think I’d waste my time controlling you? What kind of person do you think I am? Do you honestly believe I’m that desperate for attention?”

Tears of frustration welled up in your eyes, but you fought to keep them at bay. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing how much his accusation hurt. “Fuck you, Nott. Maybe you should take a hard look at yourself instead of blaming me for the fact that you’re finally feeling something—anything—other than that cold, emotionless shell you’ve built around yourself.”

Theo stood there, speechless, as you turned and disappeared behind the Fat Lady’s portrait. Every word you said hit him like a punch to the gut. He knew you were right—he’d been pushing people away for so long that he didn’t know how to deal with real emotions. But hearing it from you, someone he had started to care about, hurt more than he could admit. He knew he owed you an apology, but he had no idea where to start.

The walk back to the Slytherin common room was humiliating. When he entered, his friends were in the same spots, waiting with anticipation.

“Well?” Mattheo asked impatiently, a smug grin on his face like he knew he was right all along.

“You lot are absolute wankers,” Theo muttered, snatching up the books he had dropped earlier without sparing them a second glance. He stormed up to his dorm room, ignoring their confused looks.

He had to find a way to make things right with you. The ache in his chest wasn’t just the usual discomfort he felt around you—it was something deeper, something he couldn’t ignore.

———

Theo spent the entire night poring over the books you had lent him. As he read, he realized Mattheo’s theory was complete nonsense. None of the feelings he had for you had anything to do with “voodoo” or any other magical influence. They were real, and they terrified him.

Determined to fix the mess he had made, Theo stayed up to finish the entire essay by himself, lightening your workload. He even turned it in first thing in the morning, two days before the assignment was due.

He spent the rest of the day trying to find you to let you know you didn’t have to worry about the project and to apologize, but you were nowhere to be found. He searched the Great Hall, the library, and even, with great reluctance, asked Potter if he had seen you. No luck.

By the time dinner rolled around, Theo was too distracted to eat. His fork aimlessly pushed food around his plate while his head rested on his palm. Enzo jabbed him in the side, snapping him out of his daze. Theo shot him a glare but followed Enzo’s gaze to see you walking past their table without so much as a glance in their direction. When you sat down at your table, your eyes instinctively met Theo’s, and for a brief moment, he thought he saw a flicker of something softer. He offered a small smile, but you rolled your eyes and turned back to your friends.

“Wow, I don’t think I’ve ever seen her anything but cheerful. She must be pissed that we figured her out, huh?” Enzo commented, eliciting a few laughs from the group.

Theo’s fork clattered onto his plate, the loud noise silencing them immediately. They had seen Theo angry before, but never like this, never directed at them.

“Do you ever think about anyone other than yourselves?” Theo snapped. “She didn’t do anything wrong. What’s wrong is that I listened to you lot and screwed everything up.”

He abruptly stood and made his way over to you. You furrowed your brows in confusion, aware that Slytherins didn’t usually venture to the Gryffindor side of the Great Hall. The hushed whispers that followed Theo didn’t faze him; he only cared about setting things right.

He leaned down and whispered in your ear, asking you to follow him. Despite your better judgment, curiosity got the better of you, and you found yourself following him out of the Great Hall.

Theo led you to a secluded hallway, casting a quick Muffliato charm to ensure privacy. He took a shaky breath, closing his eyes for a moment before finally speaking.

“I’m sorry,” he began, his voice heavy with regret. “I was an absolute tosser. You were right—I’ve never felt anything like this before, and it scared me. I tried to find every excuse to deny it, and in the process, I lashed out at you. I shouldn’t have accused you of something so ridiculous.”

You stared at him, your silence unnerving him. He continued, desperation creeping into his tone. “I know there’s no excuse for what I said, and I understand if you want nothing to do with me anymore. But if there’s any chance, I’d like to start over. I’ll do anything to make it right.”

Maybe it was because you had started liking Theo too, or maybe it was the sincerity in his apology, but it wasn’t hard to forgive him.

“Although getting accused wasn’t ideal and did hurt, I accept your apology, Theodore,” you said, offering him a small smile—the smile he didn’t realize how much he’d missed until now.

Theo’s heart lifted at your words. “If I’m not pushing my luck… could I take you to Hogsmeade this weekend?”

Theo held his breath, anxiously awaiting your response. You hesitated for a moment, the silence stretching between you, before finally stepping closer. With a gentle smile, you leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, your lips lingering just a second longer than necessary. As you pulled back, your eyes met his, filled with a warmth that made his heart race.

“I’d like that,” you whispered, your voice tender and genuine.

For the first time in what felt like forever, Theo felt the tight knot in his chest begin to loosen.

©𝐦𝐨𝐨𝐧𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐥 2024

[carlottawllms]

More Than Words Could Say

Mason Mount x Reader Fluff Word Count: 1.8K Author's note: So this is definitely not my best work and it's not proof read either, so apologies for probably hundreds of mistakes. I wrote this within like 30 minutes and I hope it'll make everyone feel a little bit better.

As always, feedback is very much appreciated. And now, enjoy!

The timer on the oven went off just as you heard the key in the front door. Mason. And just a few seconds later it slammed into the lock with a rather loud bang.

Sighing, you turned off the timer and oven and walked over to the hallway. Slowly; knowing he wouldn't be in the best of moods. Understandably so.

He’d been working for weeks and months to reach his best fitness level and prepare his body for the new season. You’d seen first-hand how he’d basically tortured himself to be perfectly prepared for a successful season.

All that only for him to be substituted at half-time with another injury three games into the season.

You couldn't even put into words how you felt. There was this sadness because you knew how much it affected him to not be able to be on the pitch. And you were disappointed too. Because he couldn't prove to the fans how important he was to the team. But most of all you were angry. Angry at whoever was having the time of their life tormenting Mason by sending injury after injury upon him.

Whoever had his voodoo-doll deserved to rot in hell…

Mason was still standing in the corridor when you came round the corner. You'd seen his statement on Instagram and had an inkling of an idea what he'd be like, but when his eyes met yours, there wasn't the emptiness you'd expected.

Instead, his eyes were cold and angry, almost as if he had evil personified right in front of him.

“Hi Ma-”

“Save yourself the energy.”, he hissed. “I don't want to hear anything about it getting better or whatever blah blah blah is going around in your mind. In fact, I don't want to hear anything or see anything.”

“I just-”

“Was it that difficult to understand? I don’t want to see you, okay? Go somewhere, do something, I don’t know. Don’t care either. Just get out of my hair and leave me alone for fuck’s sake!”

You knew Mason didn't mean it. He was just terribly frustrated and hurt and just needed to get it off his chest. Obviously, his words still hurt you, but now was not the time to make things about you. He would apologise eventually; you knew that much and right now you just needed to do your job as his girlfriend: Make sure he was okay.

“That’s okay.”, you nodded and backed off to give him the space he’d asked for. Or rather demanded.

In the kitchen, you made quick work of getting the casserole out of the oven to let it cool down. It was Mason’s favourite meal, one that you’d never attempted so far, but after bribing Debbie into telling you how to make it, you’d figured that today after that kind of news, it could be the pick-me-up he needed.

It wasn't long before you heard him go up the stairs and a little later a door slammed shut.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t the first time you had seen him like this as last season hadn’t been much different so you were quite used to his antics and habits.

The two of you had made the decision to move in together when the move to Manchester had come up. Before that, you'd had your own flat near the university for logistical reasons and had just stayed at his place a lot. But with him swapping teams and moving up north, you’d decided it was time to take the next step.

And as last season, there had been a lot of situations like today, you’d grown to understand how his mind worked and what he needed in which moment. Even if you'd rather you hadn't had to learn it.

Sighing, you poured yourself some food and sat down at the table. There was no point in waiting to see if he wasn't hungry after all. He’d retreated to your shared bedroom and would be staying there for the foreseeable future. Probably on his back, staring at the ceiling. Or with his face buried in your pillow, looking for some comfort.

Your heart hurt for him. More than you thought it ever could. Football meant the world to him. Being out on that pitch was where he was the happiest – although Mason would definitely argue and say that it you were that place for him – and you hated seeing him all upset and angry.

Especially as you knew exactly what was going on in his head right now: He’d disappointed everyone again. The online fans were right. He was a bad buy, unnecessarily wasted money and not worth wearing the legendary number 7 shirt.

You knew none of that was true. And deep down you knew that he knew, too. But situations like this were perfect for overthinking and being caught in that god awful black hole.

It was this balancing act between ‘letting him suffer on his own and giving him a moment in self-pity’ and ‘catching him and making sure he wasn’t spiralling’.

Most of the time you’d leave him alone for the day and after a night had passed – sometimes even in separate beds – he’d come to you the next morning of his own accord to seek your proximity and support.

To your surprise it didn’t take that long this time. You’d just finished cleaning up the kitchen and made a plan for the rest of the afternoon, when you felt him brushing up behind you.

Mason wrapped his arms around your middle and buried his face in your neck, breathing in your familiar scent and when you held his arms and leaned back into his body, he sighed deeply.

“’m sorry.”, he mumbled barely audibly. “I didn’t mean to shout.”

Carefully, you turned in his hold and whilst he kept his grip strong around you in the beginning, he eventually let you turn around fully to look at him. His big brown eyes were filled to the brim with sadness and pain when he stared into yours, but a small smile managed to pull on the corner of his lips when you moved your hand up and scratched the back of his head.

“I know you didn’t, Mase. It’s okay.”, you smiled. “I didn’t take it to heart.”

Neither of you said anything for quite a while. Mason just enjoyed your loving touch and the feeling that everything was perfectly fine for a moment and you focused on running your finger across his freckled cheeks and over the slightly red bridge of his nose and when you reached his lips, Mason left the tiniest of kisses on the tip of your finger.

“I love you, y/n.”, he whispered, not needing to say more to express just how thankful he was to have you by his side. He didn’t think you’d ever truly comprehend just how much moments like this meant to him. How much pressure they took from him.

You didn't make a fuss, prepare speeches or try to cheer him up with distractions. You were simply there. You understood.

“I love you, too, Mase.”

Gently, you cupped his cheek. Your thumb just about brushing the skin right below his eye and when his lids fluttered close, you eventually leaned in. A quiet giggle that had your heart leaping in your chest flew past his lips when you nudged his nose with yours.

Mason leaned in a little more, yearning to feel your lips on his, but you’d made it your mission to make him giggle again, so you pulled away slightly, dodging his lips until he finally started to laugh quietly.

“You’re a tease, you know?”, he whined. His eyes open again, a cheeky glint in them at the sight of the bright smile that had you scrunching your nose adorably, but before you could even think of a reply, Mason had cupped the back of your head and pulled you back in.

He waited for a split second; simply taking in how beautiful you looked with your blushed cheeks and then he placed his lips on yours. Gently and softly, but with enough pressure to make you sigh.

Grabbing you by your waist, Mason pulled you more into his warm body. He kept you pressed up against him as the need to hold you and have you close suddenly overwhelmed him.

You only parted when both of you ran out of breath and even then you stayed close. He kept his hand on the back of your neck; forehead pressed to yours as he gazed into your eyes.

And in that moment, he realised something:

No matter what; no matter how shit everything else seemed to be, as long as he had you by his side, he would always be okay. You were his rock, his safe haven and his favourite person on earth.

“Thank you, y/n. I know you don’t think this is much, but to me it means everything. Every time the world starts crumbling beneath me, you’re always there to hold me and make sure I’m okay. Thank you for being here and for being you. I love you so so much.”

“Stop making me cry.”, you breathed as your eyes started to well up. Mason wasn’t a man of big words. He was someone who showed his gratitude and love with physical touch, so hearing him say these words held a bigger meaning than anyone would ever be able to comprehend. “I love you, Mase. And I’ll always be by your side – no matter what.”

As you stared into his eyes sparkling in the kitchen light, you noticed how the sadness and pain from earlier had faded away. You knew there was still a long way to go and that there would always be situations in which your heart would hurt for him, but as long as you had each other, you’d be okay.

Mason smiled and kissed your forehead before pulling you into his arms. “You know, when I came home and threw my little tantrum…I didn’t miss the way it smelled great in here. Is it still available?”

Your face smushed into his chest, you couldn’t help but chuckle. Only Mason would think about food whilst being in the middle of a bitchy hissy-fit.

“Course it is.”, you laughed before pecking his lips quickly. “C’mon then, I’ll heat it up for you.”

[gyorouis]

𐙚 VOODOO DOLL.

— "he was so good at everything—sports, academics, and most of the time making you feel sick."

genre: crack, (suggestive?), enemies to lovers (bcs we love ETL trope on taehyun)

pairing: rival!taehyun x afab!reader

warning: kiss :>> and some moments you might find tyun annoying pfft

wordcount: 4.3k

now playing: 5sos — voodoo doll ୨ৎ

you never hated anyone in your life as much as you hated kang taehyun. it wasn’t just the way he walked around campus with the effortlessly cold demeanor, or the way he seemed to have a knack for excelling at everything. it was the sheer arrogance with which he did it all, like the world was a stage and he was the star.

you’d always been the smart one, the dedicated one, the one who put in the extra hours and sacrificed weekends to stay ahead. that was until taehyun came into the picture. taehyun, with his easy smile and natural talent, seemed to glide through life effortlessly. he became class president in high school without breaking a sweat and now, in college, he held the same position, while you were stuck as his secretary. it wasn’t by choice. fate seemed to enjoy this cruel joke, making sure you were always tethered to him, your academic rival, the bane of your existence.

the rivalry started early in high school. taehyun had transferred in sophomore year, and from the moment he stepped into the classroom, he had an air of confidence that rubbed you the wrong way. he was good at everything—sports, academics, socializing. it was as if he was designed to be perfect, and that perfection only fueled your growing resentment. every time he received praise from teachers or admiration from classmates, it felt like a personal slight against you.

one day, during history class, mr. kim praised taehyun for his insightful comments. “excellent observation, taehyun. your understanding of the topic is truly impressive.”

taehyun flashed that infuriatingly perfect smile. “thanks, sir. i just try to keep up with the material.”

you rolled your eyes, unable to stay silent. “must be nice to make it all look so easy,” you muttered, loud enough for him to hear.

taehyun turned to you with a smirk. “oh, did you say something?”

“just admiring how effortlessly you seem to excel at everything,” you shot back, trying to keep your tone steady.

he chuckled, clearly enjoying your irritation. “it’s all about staying focused and putting in the effort. maybe you should try it sometime.”

that was just the beginning. during lunch, taehyun easily charmed his way into conversations with the popular crowd, while you sat at your usual table, glaring at him from across the cafeteria. when the coach praised him for scoring the winning goal in the soccer match, you overheard taehyun laughing and saying, “it’s all part of the game. gotta keep up the good work.”

you leaned over to your friend and whispered, “it’s like he’s living in a different world where everything is handed to him on a silver platter.”

“don’t let him get to you,” your friend advised, but it was too late. taehyun’s relentless perfection was already engrained in your mind, fueling your growing resentment.

every time taehyun received praise from teachers or admiration from classmates, it felt like a personal slight against you. it wasn’t just about the accolades; it was about the constant reminder of how he seemed to effortlessly surpass you, making every small victory of yours seem insignificant.

but the hatred wasn’t just one-sided. taehyun seemed to enjoy pushing your buttons, always making sly comments and throwing around that smug grin. his friends, beomgyu and kai, were always by his side, adding to the annoyance with their own brand of casual arrogance.

during one particularly grueling student council meeting, taehyun leaned back in his chair, his eyes gleaming with mischief. “you know, we could always use a bit more enthusiasm from our secretary. wouldn’t want you falling asleep on the job, right?”

beomgyu snickered, nudging kai. “looks like someone’s got a real knack for being a buzzkill.”

kai added with a grin, “seriously, though, do you ever get tired of being so... intense?”

you glared at taehyun, trying to ignore the laughter from his friends. “it’s called being responsible. not everyone finds it necessary to coast through life.”

taehyun’s smile widened. “oh, come on. don’t be such a sourpuss. we’re all just having a bit of fun.”

“fun?” you shot back. “more like another opportunity for you to remind everyone how perfect you think you are.”

“well, if the shoe fits,” taehyun said with a shrug, clearly enjoying the way his comments riled you up.

the meetings always ended in this same exhausting cycle. after one such meeting, you found yourself in the hallway, trying to calm down. beomgyu and kai caught up to taehyun, their laughter echoing off the walls.

“you really got under her skin today,” beomgyu said, shaking his head.

“it’s too easy,” taehyun replied with a smirk. “besides, it’s kind of fun watching her try so hard to keep up.”

kai laughed. “well, keep it up. it’s definitely entertaining.”

you walked past them, your face burning with frustration. it was exhausting to constantly compete for the top spot in every class, every extracurricular activity, every student council meeting. but you couldn’t let him win. you wouldn’t let him win.

now, in college, nothing had changed. if anything, the rivalry had intensified. both of you had chosen to major in literature, and once again, fate had cast taehyun as the president and you as his reluctant secretary. the daily meetings, the shared projects, the constant presence of each other—it was like being trapped in a never-ending nightmare.

the library, usually a sanctuary of quiet study, had become the battleground for your latest clash with taehyun. it was mid-afternoon, and the space was filled with the soft rustle of pages and the occasional murmur of students. you were deeply immersed in research for a major paper when taehyun walked in, beomgyu and kai trailing behind him, their presence a constant reminder of his entourage.

taehyun spotted you and made a beeline for your table, his expression a mix of mischief and irritation. you braced yourself for the inevitable confrontation.

“working on something important?” taehyun asked, leaning over your shoulder, his breath warm against your ear.

“just trying to get ahead on this paper,” you replied, keeping your eyes on your notes.

“well, don’t let me interrupt,” he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “just wanted to remind you that the group presentation is next week. i hope you’re ready.”

you looked up, meeting his gaze with a steely glare. “we’ll see. i’m sure you’ll be ready to take all the credit, as usual.”

taehyun’s smirk widened. “oh, don’t be like that. we’re all in this together, right?”

“sure,” you replied, the irritation clear in your voice. “together. as long as you don’t try to steal the spotlight.”

as he walked away with his friends, you couldn’t shake the feeling of his eyes lingering on you. the rivalry seemed to intensify every time you crossed paths, each encounter a reminder of the unresolved tension between you.

another morning, like any other mornings, the classroom buzzed with the low hum of students settling in for another lecture. you sat at your desk, papers scattered around you, trying to ignore the way taehyun's voice carried over the room like a taunting melody.

“don’t forget,” taehyun’s voice cut through the noise, “the deadline for the council project is next week. let’s make sure we keep on top of it.”

you bit your lip to keep from snapping back. “got it, president. i’ll make sure everything’s in order.”

he gave you that infuriatingly perfect smile, the kind that seemed to say he knew exactly how much he was getting under your skin. it wasn’t just his smile, though—it was his entire presence. how he could be smart, good at sports, charming with the ladies, and still manage to hold the class president position year after year. it was like he had some kind of cosmic cheat code that ensured everything went his way.

the bell rang, signaling the end of the class. students began to gather their things, and taehyun, as usual, took a moment to thank everyone with that same insincere tone that grated on your nerves. you quickly packed up, ready to face another round of his demands, trying to suppress the growing frustration that simmered beneath your surface.

as you glanced over at taehyun, standing tall and looking every bit the part of the perfect president, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this rivalry was far from over. if anything, it was only getting started. 

you remember the exact moment the rivalry started. it was during a surprise quiz in history class. mr. kim had just handed out the papers when taehyun raised his hand, asking for an extension. his charming smile and polite tone seemed to melt mr. kim’s resolve, and the extension was granted. the entire class watched in awe as taehyun breezed through the quiz, finishing it in record time.

“did he seriously just get an extension on a quiz?” you muttered to your friend, your frustration evident.

“i know, right? it’s like he’s got some special deal with the teachers,” your friend replied, shaking her head.

as the weeks went on, it became clear that taehyun wasn’t just a threat; he was a walking, talking embodiment of everything you resented. he excelled in every subject, won every sports match, and somehow managed to charm his way into everyone’s good graces.

the breaking point came during the annual debate competition. you’d been working hard for weeks, preparing your arguments and rehearsing every night. but when the day arrived, taehyun showed up with his usual air of nonchalance. despite your best efforts, he stole the spotlight with his effortless charisma and razor-sharp wit. the judges’ praises for him were like daggers to your heart.

“you were fantastic out there, taehyun,” one of the judges said, patting him on the back.

“thanks, sir. just had to wing it a bit,” taehyun replied with that infuriating grin.

you clenched your fists, your face flushing with frustration. “wing it? you made it look like you didn’t even break a sweat.”

taehyun turned to you, his smile never fading. “oh, didn’t you hear? sometimes less is more.”

you barely managed to hold back your scowl as you walked away, the echoes of his laughter ringing in your ears.

as the semester in college progressed, the rivalry between you and taehyun continued to simmer, but there was something new in the air. taehyun’s behavior began to shift in ways that left you both confused and frustrated. it wasn’t the overtly arrogant taehyun you were used to; instead, there were moments when he seemed almost... considerate.

it started with small things. one day, as you struggled with a mountain of paperwork, taehyun appeared beside your desk, carrying a stack of your files.

“you look like you’ve got your hands full,” he said, placing the files down with a casual smile. “thought i’d help out.”

you looked up, stunned. “why would you do that?”

taehyun shrugged, a glimmer of amusement in his eyes. “just figured you could use a hand. no big deal.”

you tried to ignore the way his smile made your heart skip a beat. “thanks, but i’ve got it covered.”

but the mixed signals didn’t stop there. he would randomly comment on your progress, offering advice that was surprisingly helpful. during class discussions, he’d even seek out your opinion, as if genuinely interested in what you had to say.

“i was thinking about your point on the symbolism in the novel,” taehyun said one day. “it’s actually pretty insightful.”

you raised an eyebrow, wary. “is this some sort of trick?”

taehyun’s expression was unreadable. “no trick. just thought it was worth mentioning.”

these moments were disorienting, especially when contrasted with his usual smug demeanor. you couldn’t shake the feeling that he was playing some kind of game, but you couldn’t figure out the rules.

“how does he manage to be so perfect?” you muttered to yourself one evening, staring at your pile of essays.

your friend, who was sitting across from you, glanced up from her own work. “maybe he’s just really good at hiding his flaws.”

“or maybe he’s just not human,” you replied bitterly. “it’s like he’s got this cosmic cheat code that makes everything easier.”

despite your best efforts to stay annoyed, there were moments when taehyun’s unexpected kindness made it hard to maintain the facade of hatred. his small acts of consideration seemed genuine, but they were always accompanied by that signature grin that left you questioning his true intentions.

one day, you found yourself alone in the library, lost in your notes. taehyun appeared out of nowhere, carrying two coffee cups.

“thought you might need this,” he said, handing you one of the cups. “it’s been a long day.”

you took the cup, your fingers brushing against his. “you really don’t have to do this.”

taehyun’s smile softened. “just thought it’d be nice. no strings attached.”

as he walked away, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was shifting. the rivalry, which had always been fueled by pure animosity, was beginning to blur at the edges.

you watched him leave, your mind racing. the tension between you was still there nonetheless, but it was laced with a new complexity that you weren’t sure how to read. the more taehyun tried to be considerate, the more you struggled to maintain your resentment.

the line between hatred and something else entirely was growing increasingly thin, and you couldn’t help but wonder if this rivalry was evolving into something much more complicated than you had ever anticipated.

as the semester wore on, the stakes in your academic rivalry heightened. the university announced a major academic competition, a team project that required both strategic planning and a deep understanding of the subject matter. fate, in its twisted sense of humor, paired you with taehyun.

initially, you were horrified. the idea of working with him felt like a punishment, a cruel twist that ensured you’d be constantly reminded of your rivalry. but there was no escaping it—you were now partners.

the first meeting was fraught with tension. you sat across from taehyun in the library, papers and textbooks spread out between you.

“we need to divide the tasks,” taehyun said, his tone unusually professional. “i was thinking you could handle the research while i focus on the presentation.”

you glared at him. “oh, so you get to do the part where you look impressive while i’m stuck doing all the grunt work?”

taehyun raised an eyebrow. “it’s about playing to our strengths. i thought you’d be fine with the research.”

“fine, whatever,” you snapped, trying to ignore the way his calm demeanor only made you more irate.

as the project progressed, moments of conflict were inevitable. during one particularly heated discussion, taehyun’s voice rose in frustration.

“i’m just saying that if we focus more on the data analysis, it’ll strengthen our argument,” he argued.

“and i’m saying that we need to present it in a way that’s engaging!” you shot back. “no one cares about the data if it’s boring!”

the argument continued, voices raised, until beomgyu and kai, who had been studying nearby, looked over with concern.

“you two okay over there?” beomgyu asked, his tone a mix of curiosity and apprehension.

“we’re fine,” taehyun replied tersely. “just working through some differences.”

kai exchanged a glance with beomgyu. “it sounds more like you’re on the verge of tearing each other apart.”

“we’re just passionate about the project,” you said, trying to sound more composed than you felt.

despite the frequent clashes, there were moments when you and taehyun inadvertently supported each other. during a particularly grueling night of work, you found yourself in the library, exhausted and frustrated.

“this is so much harder than i thought,” you muttered, staring at the pile of notes.

taehyun, who had been working in silence across the table, glanced up. “hey, do you want some help with that? i know it’s a lot.”

you looked at him, surprised by the offer. “you’re actually willing to help?”

“well, yeah..” he said with a faint smile. “it’s not just about winning. we need to do well for our own sake.”

the days following the big competition felt oddly anticlimactic. while you and taehyun had shared a moment of unexpected friendship, if you can even call it that way, it was quickly overshadowed by the return to your usual academic rivalry. the possibility of being friends seemed to evaporate as quickly as it had appeared.

the tension between you two flared up again, intensified by a debate that had become the talk of campus. it was the kind of event where both your reputations were on the line, and the stakes felt higher than ever. when the day of the debate arrived, you and taehyun were once again pitted against each other, this time in a public forum.

the debate room was packed, the audience buzzing with anticipation. taehyun stood on one side of the stage, his usual confident smile in place. you faced him from the other side, equally determined and poised. the topic was one you had prepared meticulously, and you felt a surge of adrenaline as the debate began.

as the debate progressed, it became clear that you had the upper hand. your arguments were sharp, your points well-articulated. taehyun’s frustration was evident, his responses growing more strained with each passing minute.

finally, the debate concluded, and the judges announced your victory. the applause from the audience was a sweet victory, but taehyun’s scowl as he walked off the stage was a stark reminder of the rivalry that still simmered beneath the surface.

the next day, taehyun’s frustration reached new heights. he spotted you across the campus, sitting in the cafeteria with yeonjun, a guy from one of your minor subjects. you and yeonjun seemed deep in conversation, laughing and sharing food. it wasn’t just that you were with someone else; it was the way you seemed so at ease, so indifferent to the intense rivalry that had dominated your interactions for so long.

taehyun's jaw tightened as he watched from a distance. the sight of you enjoying lunch with yeonjun, seemingly carefree, was like a bitter pill he couldn’t swallow. he didn’t understand why it bothered him so much, but it did. the casual ease between you and yeonjun, the way you looked so relaxed, felt like a personal affront.

as he walked past the cafeteria, he couldn’t shake the irritation gnawing at him. it was as if you had completely erased the existence of his presence, your attention now diverted elsewhere. the nagging feeling of being replaced, of not being a priority anymore, simmered beneath his calm exterior.

later that day, taehyun confronted you in the library. the place was quiet, with only the occasional rustling of pages and the hum of distant conversations breaking the silence. you were at a table, buried in books and notes, preparing for the next round of exams.

taehyun approached, his expression a mix of frustration and something harder to define.

“can we talk?” he asked, his voice clipped.

you looked up from your notes, surprised by the sudden intensity in his tone. “what’s wrong now, taehyun?”

“what’s wrong?” he repeated, his frustration spilling over. “you’re acting like the debate didn’t even happen. like it’s just business as usual. and now you’re all chummy with yeonjun?”

you narrowed your eyes. “i don’t see how that’s any of your business.”

“it is my business when you act like everything we’ve been through means nothing!” taehyun’s voice rose, drawing a few curious glances from nearby students.

“you think everything revolves around you?” you snapped back, your patience wearing thin. “i won a debate. life goes on. and so do I.”

taehyun’s face flushed with a mixture of anger and confusion. “you’re unbelievable. it’s like you don’t even care anymore.”

“maybe i don’t,” you said, your voice cold. “you’re not the center of my universe, taehyun. i have other things to focus on.”

there was a tense silence between you two, the air thick with unspoken feelings. taehyun’s frustration was palpable, but so was the underlying hurt. he was at a loss for why your casual interactions with someone else were affecting him so deeply.

before you could say anything more, taehyun closed the distance between you, his hand grabbing your arm and pulling you closer. in a sudden, impulsive move, he kissed you. it was a kiss filled with a mix of frustration, anger, and a desperation that neither of you had anticipated.

when he pulled away, both of you were breathless, staring at each other in shock. the library seemed to close in around you, the tension of the moment heavy in the stillness.

“what was that?” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

taehyun’s eyes were wide, his expression a mix of regret and confusion. “i... i don’t know. i just...”

“you can’t just—” you began, but your words faltered as his lips found yours again.

the kiss had changed everything. since that moment, your interactions with taehyun were charged with a new, electric tension. in public, you maintained your usual bickering and rivalry, but in private, the dynamic shifted dramatically. every chance encounter in the library or the student council office became fraught with the unresolved emotions of that kiss.

in public, the rivalry seemed as intense as ever. you and taehyun continued to spar in the classroom, arguing over every small detail as if nothing had happened. his smirks, once infuriating, now felt almost playful, like he was trying to provoke a reaction from you.

“still haven’t learned to keep up, have you?” taehyun would tease during class, his eyes glinting with mischief.

“you just love talking, don’t you?” you’d shoot back, pretending to ignore the way his gaze lingered on you.

you found yourself glaring at him across the cafeteria, where you deliberately chose a table as far from him as possible. taehyun, however, seemed unfazed, his attention flicking over to you now and then as if he was waiting for you to make the first move.

in private, however, the tension was electric. the library corner, once a haven for studying, now held the weight of your unspoken feelings. one afternoon, you were alone at a table, deeply engrossed in your notes, when taehyun appeared at the edge of your vision. he approached with a purposeful stride, his expression unreadable.

“need any help?” he asked, his voice low.

“no, thanks. i’m fine,” you replied, not looking up.

taehyun moved closer, leaning over your shoulder. the proximity sent shivers down your spine. “you sure about that? because it looks like you’re struggling.”

the closeness was unbearable, and before you could react, taehyun’s lips were on yours, his kiss urgent and hungry. the library seemed to close in around you, the only sounds being the rustling of papers and the rapid beating of your hearts. his hands were on your hips, pulling you closer as if he wanted to erase any distance between you.

when he finally pulled away, both of you were breathless, eyes locked. “that’s what i thought,” he murmured, his voice rough.

the student council office, too, became a site of charged encounters. one evening, after a particularly heated meeting, you were alone in the office, organizing paperwork. taehyun entered, his expression a mix of frustration and something softer.

“we need to talk,” he said, closing the door behind him.

“about what?” you asked, keeping your back to him as you continued to sort through files.

“about us,” taehyun said, moving closer. his voice was barely a whisper. “about what is happening between us.”

you turned to face him, but before you could respond, taehyun’s hands were on your shoulders, pulling you into a fierce kiss. the office, with its mundane surroundings of desks and files, became a backdrop for the intensity of the moment. his lips moved against yours with a passion that left you gasping.

after a long, heated moment, you broke the kiss, your breathing ragged. “this doesn’t change anything, taehyun,” you said, your voice trembling.

“doesn’t it?” he asked, his eyes searching yours. “because it feels like it changes everything.”

the days continued in this new, complicated dynamic. in public, the rivalry was as fierce as ever, but in private, the moments of passion and intensity deepened the connection between you. every touch, every stolen kiss in quiet corners, only served to blur the lines between animosity and affection. the rivalry that had once been so defining now felt like a fragile mask for something deeper, more profound, and undeniably complicated.

one afternoon, as you were leaving a particularly contentious student council meeting, taehyun caught up with you, his usual smirk softened by something more genuine.

“we should grab lunch sometime,” he said, his voice more tentative than usual.

“oh? trying to make amends?” you teased, but there was a warmth in your tone that belied your words.

“maybe,” taehyun replied, his eyes meeting yours with an earnest look. “or maybe i just want to spend time with you outside of all this.”

your moments together had become more frequent and more tender. one evening, after a long day, you and taehyun found yourselves back in the student council office. the room was quiet, the only sound being the soft hum of the air conditioning.

“you know,” taehyun said, leaning against the desk, “i’ve been thinking about us.”

“that’s dangerous,” you replied with a playful grin, but your heart wasn’t in the banter this time.

“why?” he asked, stepping closer. “because it’s complicated?”

“yeah,” you said softly, looking down. “it’s a lot to figure out.”

taehyun reached out, gently tilting your chin up so you met his gaze. “we don’t have to figure it all out right now. but I want to be with you, even if it means getting through this mess.”

you felt a surge of warmth at his words, and before you could respond, taehyun’s lips were on yours in a tender, lingering kiss. it was a kiss filled with promise and hope, the kind that spoke of a future where you both were willing to face whatever came next together.

gyo's note: never knew i needed enemies to lover trope taehyun, i tried my best to write the way i think he would be for this kind of trope so i hope did great ૮꒰⸝⸝> ̫ <⸝⸝꒱ა. like and reblog if you liked this! if you made it to this part, thank you so much for reading! you will be loved. xoxo!

✮ 2024 gyozies, all rights reserved.

[clockwayswrites]

A Broken Sort of Normal, Part 15

WC 1133, Masterpost

“Danny!”

“Lena, no,” Danny groaned. He let his bag slump off his shoulder as he turned to face them. “Lena. It’s Friday. I have been in meetings for the last three days. I have plans. I am actively leaving the building. Lena. Why are you stopping me, Lena?”

Lena held their tablet up, covering up the lower half of their face. Their dangerously large doe eyes looked over the top of it. “I just have one last thing!”

“Is it an emergency?”

They rolled their eyes. “Do you hear any alarms?”

“If I don’t deal with it until Monday and an emergency happens, are people going to be out of supplies they need to deal with said emergency?”

“No,” Lena huffed.

“Then can it please wait until Monday, Lena? Please? I’m begging you. I don’t want to have to get down on my knees, but I will,” Danny said. “Oh great now more of you are here. Please tell me you don’t all have things you need from me? Why are you smiling like that? If this is a mind control thing just thrown me tied up in my office and let me at least sleep under my desk.”

“You’ve been hanging out with the heroes too much Danny,” Greg said with a laugh from where he leaned on the bright green partition of his cubical. “You’ve picked up on their dramatics.”

“No, I’m just used to the crazy now and this,” he said, motioning to his gathering underlings (HR wouldn’t let him call them minions anymore), “is suspicious.”

“Well if you feel that way, we don’t have to give your gift,” Lena said.

Danny perked up a little. “Gift? Wait, gift?”

Hamid snorted. “Of course he pays attention when gift is mentioned. Danny, someone could catch you with a piece of cake under a cardboard box.”

Danny flapped a hand in Hamid’s direction. “Hush. But why gift? You all don’t have to get me anything.”

“Of course we did!” Lena said. “It’s your one year being the boss man, Boss!”

That made Danny pause. It couldn’t be, could it? Had he really been working as leadership in the Justice League Response Team for a year now? It felt like yesterday still when he had been moving to Central City.

“I think we broke him,” Hamid whispered loudly.

“I just can’t believe it’s been that long,” Danny said honestly.

“Well it has been, so here,” Lena said. They grabbed a tissue wrapped bundle and handed it over.

Danny unwrapped it carefully, aware he was grinning stupidly and not carrying to stop it. It was really sweet of his team. “I couldn’t have made a year without you all.”

“We know,” Greg said, which made Danny laugh.

When the paper was finally discarded, Danny was holding a mug that said ‘You’re the Best Boss’ with the word ‘best’ scratched out. Stuffed inside the mug were floppy Titan figures wrapped with fake bandages. “You’re all jerks, I love it. I’m taking a picture and sending it to the Titans. Nightwing’s little broken leg is inspired.”

“Thank you,” Lena said proudly. They waited for Danny to snap the picture before taking the mug away. “Now you go. I’ll put this on your desk for you.”

“Thank you, really, you’re all the best.”

“We know,” all three of the coursed as Danny headed out the door with a wave.

-

“I can’t believe they broke mini me’s leg!” Dick wined when Danny got back to his and Wally’s department.

“Of course they broken your leg with all the stunts you pull,” Victor said as he flicked the cap off a beer with his thumb. “Wait, that sounded wrong. It’s not like those were voodoo dolls or anything. Right…?”

Danny laughed hung up his work bag and keys on the hooks by the door. “Greg is right, you’re all paranoid and I’m around you way too much for it to be rubbing off on me.”

“Really only Wally rubs off on y—” Garfield started only to get a face full of pillow tossed by Donna. It sent Gar right over the couch back he had been perched on.

“No one needs to hear that,” she said.

“You’re just jealous Wally has a hot boyfriend,” Gar said.

The couch shifted a little before a green cat popped out from under the front of it. Danny picked Gar up as he passed, setting him back on the couch.

“I am not the hot boyfriend,” Danny said.

“Yes you are.”

“Right.”

“Dude.”

Victor just snorted.

“Wally,” Danny called out. “Our friends are being weird. Did you all get a collective head injury or something?”

“Our friends are always weird, babe,” Wally called back from either the bedroom or the office.

“Yes, but this is extra weird.”

There was a pause then Wally appeared with the monstrosity that was the current Uno set up. It now included a board and six different dice. “Okay, what’s extra weird?”

“That they think I’m the hot boyfriend.”

“Danny, babe,” Wally said. He leveled Danny with a look. “You are the hot boyfriend.”

“Collective head injury, all of you!” Danny said, throwing his hands up.

Wally just laughed, the bastard, and set the game box down so that he could pull Danny into his arms. “Accept it, you’re hot.”

“No,” Danny said, purposefully pouting.

“So hot,” Wally insisted before leaning in to kiss Danny.

Gar whistled while Victor made a fake gagging sound. The kiss broke as Danny laughed at being hit with a pillow.

“Okay, okay. I’m going to go change out of my work clothes. Is food ordered?” Danny asked as he dragged himself out of Wally’s arms.

“Indian. An absolute feast too,” Wally said, reluctantly letting Danny go.

“Good, I’m starving.” Danny headed for their bedroom, shucking off his clothing as soon as the door was closed. He hated meetings where people expected him to wear suits. It was a relief to change into jeans and a comfortable t-shirt.

“…wait till the others are here?” Dick was saying to Wally when Danny opened the door.

“I know we should, just…”

“Wait for what?” Danny asked.

It was a little startling how both their heads jerked up to look at Danny.

“Um, just explaining the Uno rules! You know?” Wally said with a nervous laugh. “Not all of them have played this version, yeah?”

Danny raised a brow, spotting the lie easily but not knowing what it was about. It was usually safer to not get between Wally and Dick plotting something though. “Right… pass me a cider?”

“Sure, babe!” Wally said with far too much perkiness.

Danny had just accepted the uncapped cider when suddenly the room was filled with a screaming alert. From the volume that wasn’t just one communicator.

That was everyone’s.

---

AN: I managed to shake out some words! I'm not actually sure of the pacing of this one, but I won't know till I write the next part! There's a chance this might get more added to it. We'll see! I wonder what Dick and Wally were talking about??

Stay delightful, darlings!

I no longer tag, instead you can subscribe to the masterpost.

[monayen]

Ranfren texting headcanons !!

a/n - wellll not actually the author since this post was submitted by a lovely person who wanted to share their own headcannons without it glitching out in my inbox </3 i tried to only change the formatting a bit since i think these are sooo well written and i really appreciate the effort put into this !! everyone give them a round of applause ^_^

Luther

- Doesn’t usually text. He loves using his rotary phone for making calls. It’s on a side table next to his armchair and he can sit there and chit chat over nothing for hours

- He has an emergency cellphone for when he’s away from home. It’s the most basic fliphone in existence

- Sometimes doesn’t notice he’s gotten a text/his phone is muted or dead so he unknowingly ignores messages

- His texts are stilted with accidental punctuations

- Autocorrect is his enemy. It will mix up what he was trying to write and at the same time not catch all mistakes

- Always signs off with his name

- Example:

Good morning My Dead.Remember to water the Plants I will Be home soon .?

Luther von Ivoty

* Nyen & Nyon have matching flip phones that are different colors

Nyen

- Will leave you on read. His phone is for Luther to contact him only

- He doesn’t use it aside from that. There’s nobody he wants to be in contact with

- It’s a hassle to use with his long nails, plus he has large hands that lack dexterity

- If he needs something from you he’ll just shout for you to come to him

- He has a hard time adjusting to new technology. If you showed him how to take pics and send them back and forth he’d become more interested in using his phone

- If you don’t want frequent blurry pics of him flexing shirtless and him expecting pics in return don’t teach him that though

Nyon

- has some difficulty with reading & writing English so his texts are short and to the point

- He won’t text first but he will always reply to you

- Mostly with single words or a thumbs up emoji

- Will sometimes send memes

- Texts you first when he’s high. Quite a few messages and longer too

- Expect some texts in Russian

- You never know what they mean and when you ask him the next day he will just stare at you silently as always

Sebastian

- has no phone privileges

- If Luther thinks he’s well behaved enough he might give him a toy phone or maybe one of those with lipgloss inside

- Don’t let Randal near the lipgloss. He will make a mess and torment Sebastian with his "makeup skills"

- Before becoming a pet he had a cheap smartphone with a slightly cracked screen

- Ran out of battery when he was lost and if nobody’s taken it it’s probably still at the pound

- Used to be an awkward texter

- Didn’t have a ton of people who’d talk to him so he’d get very excited if somebody sent him a message. His nervous fumbling is a result of that too

- Example: if you’d text him asking to go get ice cream he’d reply like

Okay sounds good haha ;)

Oh my god

That was an accident!!

I didn’t mean to send that wink I’m sorry!!!

I pressed the wrong button I just wanted to send a normal smiley

Like this :€

:)

Sorry…

- And he’ll agonize over it forever

- Fun to tease if you’re up for it and over time he might even quip back. He’s a bit bolder over text than in person

- You could even get him to send a bathroom mirror selfie if you encourage him enough

Randal

- broke the emergency cellphone Luther gave him

- Now he has a phone he pilfered from the human school. It had a tiny voodoo doll as a phone charm and he didn’t think twice about taking it

- Super annoying, will double and triple text and if you don’t reply will send you messages where he’s just talking to himself

- Texts all hours of the night and it’s just weird unfiltered thoughts

- His phone looks horrible, he’s so careless with it. You can barely see the screen with how many cracks there are

- Annoying and frequent use of kaomojis

- Will attempt to start roleplays that always escalate

- Example:

HEEEYYYY ψ(｀∇´)ψ

*glomps u*

*noms ur arm*

*bites a chunk of flesh out of u and chews* mmh sho tasty (*´Д｀*) *drools on u*

Satoru

- has a ridiculous amount of charms on his phone. One is part of a friendship set and he gave Randal the matching one

- Texts in a weird mix of Japanese and English characters that makes sense in the dream (something likeトoトally)

- tasteful and sparing use of kaomojis (^_−)v

- Doesn’t send many texts because he prefers hanging out when everybody’s lucid and his phone can’t reach the real world

The Ratmen

- The only way they’d get their hands on a phone is if they stole it or you gave them one

- To avoid one of them hoarding the phone and a fight breaking out giving them a tablet would be a better solution. Plus it’s big enough to they can all look at the screen

- It’s probably best if you leave it plugged in your living room so nobody can take it for himself and it doesn’t run out of battery unexpectedly

- Stick to making voice messages and show them how to play them only. Lie about the tablet not having a microphone if you need to

- If you don’t want to be annoyed every hour of the day don’t tell them how to call you or send voice messages themselves

- Since they can barely read they mostly communicate with emojis

- Robert & 3 don’t text much

- Robert doesn’t have a lot to say over text and is self sufficient anyways. He can wait till you come home if he has something to tell you

- 3 is insecure about not being able to read/write well and would rather leave you on read than embarrass himself by sending messages you don’t understand

- Michael gets emojis mixed up. He will send a 😂 and it means he’s sad. You will only know what’s up when you’re home

- He’s not smart enough to communicate with symbols alone. Sometimes he just sends emojis he liked the looks of, no meaning. Expect to be confused when he’s the one sending a message

- He gets distracted easily looking at the food emojis too

- 4&5 are good at using emojis to form more complex messages. 5 is probably the best

-Example:

🫵🏠🍳🥓➡️🐭🍽️❓

🌙📺👩‍🍳❓

🐭🤓🍽️🧼➡️🤮

🫵🏠🧽🪣

- Don’t ask if they want something for the store or they wil send every food emoji

- They all crowd around the tablet to listen when you send a voice message

- Referring to themselves with emojis is kinda tricky. The others will use 🤓 when talking about 3 and he hates but they all think it fits him too well. Same with 🤥 for 5. He never uses it for himself and since he writes most of the messages you’ll hardly ever see it

- Don’t download games to the tablet if you value peace in your home. If they can fight over an account or their turn they will

- If bored enough the ratmen will still play around with the pre installed apps like the calculator or the compass. The camera roll is a mess too

- If you put something on for them like a movie they will be enraptured. Depending on what they’re watching they might become scared an believe it’s real. Remember the SpongeBob episode where he thinks mr krabs is a robot? Kinda like that

- And if you put on a cooking show they will pester you to cook what they’re making in the program. Also there will be marks on the screen from somebody trying to lick it

Hope you enjoy these :)

[animeshotsh]

Its your soul Dear~ | Alastor x Reader

Warning: Yandere!Alastor - Mentions of cannibal Alastor + Mentions of eating reader - Alastor its so mean in this - He is crazy for reader and not in love - Manipulative!Alastor - Maybe a part 2 - OFF CANON EVENTS AND OFF CANON IN TERMS OF TIME - grammar mistakes -

Alastor knows he is not in love with you, he knows his self cant love, cant feel that pathetic feeling.

But once a hunter then forever one. Thats s fact, when you found yourself in hell Alastor was the first to smell you. He was inside the Hotel when his sense went alert, ears high and eyes demonic. He soon sent his minions to look for you.

Did he want to eat you? He was not sure, he felt the need to own you.

Sonner than later he found you, you were so weak, he saved you from almost getting robbed and thats its the slightest problem you could have in hell.

However, Alastor knew how to play, he knew he had a centrain charm and you being new in hell would not know about him, how dangerous he was.

He covered his true intentions well, first guiding you to the Hotel where Charlie was extatic to meet you and give you a room. He showed you places in hell that where not so dangerous. He left one shadow of his to follow you around.

The only one who saw what he was doing was Husk. Who in his own way tried to warn you but was silenced by Alastor himself. He decided to step aside after that.

If something Alastor liked doing was playing with his meal. He made you trust him so much, whatever he said you ate it without a second tought. He would tell you to jump and you would ask how high. He made you depend on him, for whatever and small thing, following and asisting him like a good pet.

Alastor could still teast your soul, it gave off the most delicious smell a cannibal like him would feel, but he also felt the sweet smell and soft self of it. Showing that you were in hell by a low sin you had made.

He never cared, he wanted you. Wanted to take your neck in his hands and chocke the life out of you, see your eyes go dull, then he would devour you, maybe he would start with your chest, opening up and taking your heart in his hands. He then will go after your lungs. Oh, how he desired to be all messy with your blood.

But one meal and one second of teast would be the same as this? Having you by his side? Never leaving him? He knew you would end being something others could use against him, thats why he decided to make a few fixes to it.

First, he needed you to have some power, and heavens did he found it. His voodoo magic was perfect. He tried it, first cursing you then using a doll....he removed your arm and your own body lose it too. Then he made it be back and soon you were all made as new.

Does this mean he could devour you multiple times?

He just needed to have your soul. And he being as manipulative as he was did it. First he made a plan, you would end lost and he would tear your limbs apart, then he would appear faking saving you and proposing you a deal that would make you think if favors you.

Of course it did not.

"Your soul my dear, in exchange for my protection, no one will ever hurt you again, no one will even think on getting close to you"

Because only I can make you suffer and scream, only i can have you.

The explosion of green was the final. Alastor owned you, soul and body. He decided to kept his charming way but could not help and find himself festing over you. He made sure to put you back again and even trear your injuries.

It affected you badly, the one you tought was your friend ended being a cannibal and killer, and no one wanted to help you.

You had dig your own grave.

Whenever he went, you did as well, when he was hungry you were there to snack from. He never once hitted you or mocked you, he mostly treated you as a dumb pet.

His dumb pet.

And by heavens, you were his favorite. He would exchange thousands of souls just for you.

Because your screams and tears were the best he had ever tried.

He knows he was once a hunter, reduced to this look...the one of a deer, the shame he must carry. Maybe thats why he always smiles and has forced himself to be even more dangerous and mysterious.

[doodler16]

an anonymous asker already said this on chais blog but its worth mentioning again since someone brought it up - what stolas did in apology tour is a technique often used by narcissists called "triangulation". simplypsychology.org states: triangulation in relationships refers to a communication pattern where one person (stolas) avoids direct interaction with another (blitz), instead using a third person (verosika) as an intermediary. this can create misunderstandings and conflicts, often serving as a manipulative strategy to control or gain power. triangulation typically entails a dynamic where the victim (blitz) and persecutor (stolas) engage in conflict while a third party (verosika) assumes the role of the rescuer. (ex; "how you doin', baby? you holding up okay?" "tell us all about your experience with blitzo. that cock sucking motherfucker! c'mon baby, speak from the heart, we all here know how you feel." (they dont know that they dont,) followed by stolas not truthfully going into details and claiming that he thinks "it ("it", being their full moon deal,) didnt mean a thing at all" when yeah, i sure hope your "favors for favors", your "transactional fucking" DIDNT mean a thing romantically, thats a weird and entilted thing for him to think.) this creates a communication triangle, often exacerbating conflicts and misunderstandings, serving to control or divert attention from the core issues. (the full moon deal,) it is problematic because a third person (verosika acting like stolas has been severely wounded by blitz when the reverse is far more true,) becomes intertwined in a situation that should be between the two individuals participating in the conflict. (again, the full moon deal,) it is a strategy emotionally unstable people can use to influence a situation. triangulation is often an attempt for individuals to try and possess control of a situation (stolas being confronted on his behavior by blitz directly and him understandably demanding confrontation because he feels he deserves it after yeah, like he says, everything stolas has put him through in s1, and even s2 tbh,) and seek advantage from it in the form of loyalty or attention from the other parties. (which in this case is literally just the anti blitz party,) it brings difficulties and confusion because too many people (again, anti blitz party,) can get involved, raising the risks for the occurrence of harmful behaviors. (these people festering on their feelings EVERY YEAR on halloween, literally making pinatas, voodoo dolls, an entire cake of blitz they mutilate, which is all portrayed as a rightfully batshit crazy thing to do, but also not towards the end of the episode when they need to make blitz seem like a dick who actually deserves this treatment,) if verosika wouldve been disgusted and been able to relate to feeling used like she felt used by blitz for sex due to the lack of reciprocation, just imagine how an entire party of people who felt used by blitz would feel if they knew about the full moon deal, ESPECIALLY since theyre all imps of some kind. stolas is the real motherfucker here, and that bird wouldve been burned like a goddamn walmart roisterer chicken if at any point blitz had revealed himself on stage at the party, which would be more in character then him letting his self loathing get the better of him when it comes to stolas, and said, "YOU shouldnt even be allowed to be here, bitch! why do you count as an ex when THE ONLY THING we did was FUCK, because YOU MADE ME FUCK YOU?! how the FUCK was i supposed to keep my business afloat without your fucking fancy ass book that let me up to the human world?! THATS why you made me pound your pathetic bird pussy on the full moon every month! and now you wanna act like what we had was actually a RELATIONSHIP?! WELL, FUCK YOU!"

Reading this really makes me want Stolas as a villian that IMP can overcome and kill. Stolas is such a professional victim that it’s not even funny anymore. I really wish Blitz said that instead of watching Stolas, Vortex, and Verosika sing how Blitz is a motherfucker.

[buckleyseddie]

of curses and hospital rooms

buddie | G | 1,2k | inspired by the 8x05 sneak peek

read on ao3

***

Eddie raps his knuckles on the door, peeking into the room. Buck’s attention shifts from the TV to him at the sound.  

“Hey,” he says with a small smile. He pats the hospital bed until he finds the remote, lowering the volume of what he was watching– a telenovela by the looks of it. 

Eddie’s lips twitch with a smile of his own. “Hey, Buck.” 

“I thought you left,” Buck says, sitting up. The sheet covering him falls to his mid-stomach and Eddie forces himself to keep his eyes on Buck's face. 

“Of course not,” Eddie says, leaning on the door, ankles crossed. He finds the idea of being anywhere but here with Buck when he’s injured absolutely ridiculous. “The others left for a call but Cap said it was okay if I stayed, keep you company until they let you go.”

Buck ducks his head with a shy smile. “You uh, you didn’t have to do that, Eddie.”

“Do what? Skip what’s probably going to be a nightmare of a shift, being this close to Halloween, to sit with you and watch telenovelas?” Eddie says, his voice dripping with sarcasm. 

Buck chuckles. “Well, I'm glad my injury is beneficial to you.”

Eddie snorts, jerking his chin at him. “How is it? Your arm?”

Buck lifts it, rolls his shoulder a few times and flexes the muscles. Eddie swallows thickly. “It’s fine. Barely hurts. Thanks for– for popping it back in by the way.”

Eddie shrugs. “Probably should’ve waited for the actual paramedics to do it but–”

But Buck had been in so much pain, and Chimney and Hen were both busy with the victims of the fire they were called to and Eddie had needed to do something. 

“Nah, I trust you,” Buck says with a soft smile. 

Eddie bites his lip, stopping the affectionate smile threatening to stretch over his lips. “I didn’t fuck up, right? That’s not why they’re keeping you here?”

Buck shakes his head, curls bouncing on his forehead. “No, they just want to do an X-ray before they clear me, but the nurse said they’re a little backed up right now.” 

“It’s a good thing I got coffee then,” Eddie says, lifting the cup he grabbed from the hospital cafeteria. “So can I come in?” 

“Like you have to ask,” is Buck’s response and Eddie feels a warm fuzzy feeling bubble up in his chest because of it. 

He takes one step into the room– and stops when Buck puts his hands up. “Just– keep your distance,” he says, blue eyes going wide. “We don’t know if this is contagious.”

“Uh, what is?” 

Last time he checked shoulder dislocations weren’t something you could infect someone with. Did they run some tests on Buck and discovered something else? The doctor didn’t mention anything like that–

“You know– the curse,” Buck says, voice only slightly above a whisper. Eddie leans closer but Buck just waves him away. With a sigh, he rounds the bed, keeping his distance. “The reason why my shoulder popped out of its socket.”

“Buck, your shoulder did that because your arm got tangled on a hose.”

“No, I know,” Buck says, waving his hands. “But it was the curse that made my arm get tangled like that.”

Eddie opens his mouth, closes it and opens it again. “Alright, I’ll bite. What curse?” He sits down on one of the chairs by the window, setting the coffee on the small table. 

“Okay, so. You were there when I ripped out that corpse’s arm–”

"Yeah. And so were the fifteen or so kids whose parents will sue the fire department for psychological damage.”

Buck’s nose scrunches up. “Right, well. I think I activated the curse there, angered some kind of– of spirit or ghost or something and they got back at me when we went on that call. By popping my arm out like I did to it. Him. The corpse.”

“What? Like a voodoo doll or something?” Eddie asks, eyebrows furrowed.

“Yes! Exactly!”

“Okay,” Eddie says, trying not to sound too skeptical. “And how do you– you know, get rid of the curse?”

Buck frowns. “Don’t know yet. My phone is with my uniform so I haven’t been able to look it up, but I read once that with cursed objects you have to salt and burn them so maybe it’s the same? Except the object here is the corpse.”

Eddie’s lips scrunch to the side. “I don’t think Athena will let you salt and burn her only lead on this case, Buck.” 

He pouts, his bottom lip jutting out, which Eddie finds a little distracting. “You’re right. Maybe I can find a– a protective spell or buy a good luck charm off of one of those women at the pier. You know, the ones with the crystal balls and stuff.”

“Those are scams, Buck, you know that.” 

“But I don’t wanna be cursed, Eddie!” Buck whines, throwing his head back on the pillow. 

“Well, that’s what you get for going around touching corpses, bud.” 

Buck huffs, crossing his arms over his chest. His naked chest. Eddie keeps his eyes resolutely on Buck’s face. 

He looks genuinely upset and Eddie lets out a long sigh. “Okay, fine. We’ll– figure something out, okay? We’ll ask Chim, we’ll get you all the good luck charms, we’ll– I don’t know, sacrifice a chicken if we have to.”

“We will?” Buck narrows his eyes. “I thought you didn’t believe in those things.”

“I don’t, but you do and I got your back, remember?” 

Buck’s face melts into a soft smile. “And I got yours.”

“Exactly. This curse’s got nothing on both of us,” Eddie says, scooting forward on the chair. 

Buck flinches back. “Eddie, you don’t want to come near me–”

His voice is soft when he says, “I already touched you when I popped your shoulder back in, Buck, so if this curse is contagious, I already got it.”

“Oh. Sorry about that.”

“Don’t be,” Eddie says. This time when he reaches for his hand, Buck lets him grab it. “I’m not letting anything happen to you even if I have to fight this curse myself.” 

“You can’t fight curses,” Buck says with a playful eye roll, the corners of his mouth ticking up. 

“Oh yeah? Watch me,” he says with a wink, and watches mesmerized as it brings a blush to Buck’s cheeks. 

“Thanks, Eddie.”

Eddie pats his hand once before leaning back on the chair again. “Anytime, Buck,” he says. He crosses his legs and jerks his chin at the TV. “Now, are you gonna turn the volume up on that telenovela or what?”

Buck chuckles, grabbing the remote and turning the volume up. 

It almost feels like a normal afternoon– hanging out with Buck, especially after Chris left and he took it upon himself to keep Eddie company, going as far as watching the telenovelas he and Chris used to watch, even if said telenovelas are in Spanish and Buck can’t understand more than a few words here and there. 

The room might be different and Buck being shirtless certainly is too but glancing to his left and catching Buck looking at him with a soft expression isn’t and neither is the way it makes Eddie’s heart flutter. 

Buck may or may not be cursed, Eddie too, but if this is how it’s going to be– there’s no one else in the world Eddie would rather share a curse with. 

[pinejayy]

╰➤ My Voodoo Doll || Basil Hawkins x Reader

featuring: basil hawkins <33

summary: sfw/nsfw!! headcanons of my lovely husband

warnings: nsfw of course. bondage, candle wax, voodoo dolls, teasing, oral, hawkins is kinda of a creep/yandere, spanking.

✦•·················• 𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐀���𝐄𝐀𝐃!! •·················•✦

sfw headcanons <33

This man may seem emotionless and not capable of loving something let alone someone, but when it comes to you he feels the urge to protect and cherish you. When he first fell in love with you he was quite confused. Not used to this kinda feelings, so of course he took it upon to ask his cards.

The cards showed that both of your souls were tied together. It was his destiny to take the role of your lover. So he took it upon himself to take you away from your normal life and show you the love he has for you.

Before leaving for some personal business he makes sure to do a card reading, he wants to make sure it’s safe to leave you alone for the time being. (When the cards let him know that you’re in good hands he’ll leave, but if they tell him there’s danger in your way, he isn’t leaving your side.)

Hawkins lives to spoil you. He wants to buy you the most expensive jewelry, clothing, shoes and whatever your little heart desires.

He’s really into pet names. Such as… “Doll, Puppet, Dear, Darling, Love and his personal favorite My Voodoo Doll.”

Loves to grabbing your hand, placing small kisses along your hand. As he whispers sweet things. “You belong to me….mine. Mine.” He mumbled and his kisses would trail up your arm. Soft kisses along your arm, trailing his tongue along the skin “So beautiful….can’t wait to marry you, make you fully mine.”

Very Possessive, doesn’t appreciate when a crew member is staring to long. He’ll wrap an arm around you. And give whoever is staring a look.. “Mine…Mine.” Whispering in your ear.

He’ll make sure to have voodolls of his crew , and if they stare to long he’ll take it upon him and infect pain to his own body. To which it would transfer to them. “Eyes off of what’s mine.”

His favorite places to kiss you is your hand. Forehead and your sweet lips. “Sweet kisses…sweet lips.”

nsfw headcanons <33

This man is a freak when it comes to your bedroom activities. He lives to making you feel good. He’s desperate hearing you moan his name. He puts your pleasure first rather than his.

Loves watching you bathe..the way you look so relaxed. How the the bubbles cling to you body. Covering the prefect areas. Sometimes he gets to witness you touch yourself…what a treat for him. He can’t help but jerk himself off to the beautiful sight.

Hawkins loves having you against his bed, your arms tied up to the bedpost. As he’s dragging your tongue all over his body. Wanting to taste you, yes he’s a tease and he’ll want you to beg.

“Please Hawkins…I need it..” Moaning softly as you struggle against the rope. And he’ll just chuckle, eyeing your reactions. “Mm so needy, how desperate.” He mocks. But he loves how you taste so it doesn’t take too much begging. Dragging his tongue along your sensitive areas. Moaning at your taste. “Divine as always..”

If you’ve been a naughty doll he’ll make sure you get a well deserved punishment. He’ll have you over his knee, swinging hard at your butt. Spanking you like the naughty pet you are. “This is what naughty pets get. Now start counting.” To which would result in you crying.. “One….Two….Three.” Until he’s satisfied.

His favorite thing to do is dripping candle wax along your body, he’s gets a glimmer of excitement in his eyes as he watches the hot wax drip down to your stomach and nipples.

He’s loves taking his time as he makes love to you, using his devil fruit ability to turn one of his arm into straw and wrapping that arm around your waist and thrusting in and out of you. “So tight….so good…good pet.” He moans against your ear.

Most likely has a voodoo doll of you. And whenever you’re away on some business. He makes sure to tease the doll itself. Rubbing your sensitive areas, nipples. Occasionally licking your crotch area. Smirking at the idea of you squirming around….wherever you are.

The first time he got a blow job from you he was a blabbering and moaning mess, biting down on his fingers to control his moans. Spreading his legs more for you. Throwing his head back as his hands found their way to your hair, tugging. “Sweet beautiful pet….such a good mouth…so good..”

Whenever it’s a special occasion he’ll have chocolate for you. Candles around the room and rose petals around his bed. You’ll be moaning his name all night long. “Mm Hawkins….” You gasp out. Which would earn a smirk. “Good pet…moan my name out. Let these fools know who you belong to.”

[golbrocklovely]

I'm really disappointed in Sam :/ I can't believe he would do this to Colby.

i agree with you anon. this is now the second time this year I've truly felt disappointed in sam's actions. first was with katelyn and that whole bs, and now this.

the problem is, he's done shit like this before, in smaller detail, to colby. but this one is worse, imo.

i want to have some sympathy for why he feels the need to do this, but it's hard to see it this time around. i don't think he's a bad person, but i do think he is so lost in trying to get answers (for whatever reason) that he's hurting those around him in the process. and i can't tell what's worse, someone knowing they are hurting others and not changing or someone oblivious to it every time. both end in the same result regardless.

i just don't understand why the need to have proof outweighs putting the one person you hold dear in danger. bc even colby flat out said "you're putting me in danger and i don't want that" and still sam tried to justify it. bc sam could have stopped this at any time before getting to the end. and what's crazy, and @xplrvibes pointed this out perfectly, is that whatever he wanted to do with the dolls doesn't even make any fucking sense in the first place. so you took pics, which is strictly against the "rules", all to what? combine the evil powers of these three dolls, along with you shitty voodoo dolls, and then……. do what? what end result were you thinking was gonna take place?? and to do it behind colby's back and somehow think that was okay???

sam is doing this shit for selfish reasons, one way or another. it's hard to tell if he wants proof for himself so that he knows there is an afterlife, or bc he wants to be the one known for finding out that answer, regardless of the fact he's been in a duo for over a decade now. again, if you want to go off and do this shit on your own, you can. but don't just leave colby in the dark, confused as to wtf you're doing. but the problem is, he's not even doing that - he's dragging colby along when he doesn't want to be part of it.

this also brings up a past issue that someone brought up before - for some reason sam keeps going towards the negative stuff. if you want to prove and afterlife exists, why not try to see if angels are real or some shit? why the immediate jump to something demonic or evil? why when you do the estes method is your first question usually "are you trying to hurt us" or something along those lines? why do you feel that being thrown against a wall or levitated (which assumingly isn't being done by a nice spirit) is the only proof of the paranormal as if you haven't been doing this shit for years now and have plenty of proof that something clearly exists out there????

one of these times he's gonna go to far, and i can't fathom that colby's gonna keep forgiving him every time. he's gonna push his luck, and i think he'll have a lot more than just colby leaving him to worry about.

also... to look colby, of all ppl, in the eye and say he knows why you need to do this, bc "last year was hard" as if this man didn't go thru fucking cancer............ tactless.

[jaegeraether]

Sunsets and footballers (Part 55)

Lucy Bronze x Reader (49) & Alexia Putellas x Character (15)

Masterlist (other parts here)

((**3.7k | All Alexia's POV | mentions of Jordan and Leah**))

Alexia had been wondering how she was on the plane. Why she was on the plane. Why she would possibly go to London. And then Ridley arrived and deep down Alexia didn’t want to admit it was because of her.

Her, Alexia Putellas Segura, Captain of Spain and Barcelona. World Cup winner. Ballon d’Or winner. All of the awards and accolades you could think of. Known for her dominance, her resilience, her unbridled passion and need to prove that she is one of the best. To push herself.

Somehow undone by the woman whose eyes were locked on her own. None of it made sense.

None of it.

Except that it did.

Jordan’s hand tightening around hers was the only thing that snapped her from her own mind.

“Is that Ridley?” Jordan asked, leaning over to see.

Ridley was talking to a flight attendant and out of politeness, turned her attention to him as they shared a hug and a short exchange. She really did know everybody.

When they were finished, she put her work bag on the ground and stepped forward to better see the foursome.

“I heard we had trouble in the front row.”

Blau rolled her eyes. “Riddles, what did you do?”

“And here I was thinking you’d be happy to see me, baby.” She squatted down and readjusted Blau’s straight, braced leg on her reclined chair. “Job came in last minute. I don’t need to fly, just a routine flight review so I thought, why not? Better?”

“Yeah, thanks. And how fortuitous.”

“What can I say? I’m a lucky gal.”

She stood in the aisle between them and that woody, spicy musk sent a warm, welcome shiver down Alexia’s spine.

“You’re lucky you made it in time.” Lucy teased.

“Firstly, where’s the excitement? Hi, Ridley! Nice to see you! Secondly, this assignment was last minute-”

“-you decide the assignments.” Blau cut off.

“And thirdly, I am not late. We’re waiting for our departure slot and I was using that time to get you all a surprise.”

“Is the surprise supposed to be you?” Jordan asked and Ridley tutted at her.

“You’re my next Voodoo doll, Nobbs.”

Alexia enjoyed the sight of everybody ganging up on her.

“Where’s Chiquito?”

“Making friends with Narla, I presume.”

“Where’s the surprise?” Lucy asked, earning her a slap but she persisted.

“Are we safe on this thing?” Jordan asked.

She looked over at Alexia and their eyes met before Ridley spotted her and Jordan holding hands. She raised an eyebrow, obviously amused.

“Yes, you are safe Nobbs. But I’m sure Alexia won’t mind holding your hand all flight.”

“I feel a lot safer with you here, actually.” Alexia felt Jordan’s hand ease its pressure on her own. “Can I try on your hat?”

Ridley audibly groaned. “No surprise for you all, then. The cabin crew can have them.”

Lucy perked up. “Was it food?”

Blau and Alexia exchanged an eye roll of a look that Alexia enjoyed. Of course that would excite Lucy.

“Perhaps. Regardless, offer rescinded.”

Lucy huffed and sat back in her seat with a pout, Blau lacing fingers with her with a grin.

“I’m off to see my victims for the day. Blue, call me if you need me.”

“Yes, mum.”

Ridley walked away and grabbed her bag, again talking to the flight attendant and handing him a few things. Both Alexia and Blau found themselves leaning into the aisle to try and see what, but Ridley spun and winked, knowing they’d be curious, and they didn’t catch a glimpse.

She understood what Jordan meant. She also felt a lot safer knowing that Ridley was there.

It was only a few minutes later when another announcement came through.

“Ladies and Gentleman, this is your Captain speaking. We now have a departure slot, and our chief pilot onboard with us. We will be starting up and pushing back in just over five minutes time. Again, apologies for the delay and cabin crew arm doors and cross-check.”

“Fucking ridiculous!” Alexia heard a man’s voice grunt in Catalan. She turned to see him up out of his seat and complaining to one of the flight attendants.

“Sir, please sit back down. We’re starting up soon.”

“I’ve never had a problem with this company before until today when we have a female first officer flying.”

“First officer Rivera is a very skilled pilo-”

“I don’t care, I want the man to fly. Go tell him.”

Alexia couldn’t believe it. But she also could. She’d been around sexism her whole life.

The cabin crew were unable to calm the man down and eventually one sighed and made their way to the flight deck. The man pushed his way up into first class and huffed impatiently.

To Alexia’s surprise, the female pilot came out instead of the Captain. She tried to reason with him in Catalan, but he seemed to just be offended by the fact that they’d sent a woman out.

“Just go get me that chief pilot of yours. The fighter pilot. He’ll be able to fly the fucking thing.”

Obviously the man hadn’t seen that Ridley was in fact, a female. To her credit, the first officer persisted politely.  Alexia was turned and watching the conversation, about to jump in when Ridley arrived and lightly tapped the woman’s shoulder, encouraging her to go back to the flight deck. She looked relieved but a little nervous.

Ridley leant in with a supportive smile. “It’s okay, this isn’t a part of your flight review. Head back and run your checklists.”

Ridley watched her go, and Alexia felt a little pang of jealousy as she did so. She turned back and stepped forward towards the man, her hip level with Alexia’s seat. She held a strong stance, arms behind her straight back, feet spread, and Alexia couldn’t help but notice the muscles through her white shirt. God, she looked good in a black tie. So good she could feel herself getting a little excit-

Jordan let go of her hand and spun as the man started attacking her in Catalan. Alexia knew she wasn’t as confident in the language and her heart strings pulled as she also turned to watch.

Ridley put one hand up in a gesture.

“Sir, I admit my Catalan is not good as yours so please, slow down, or choose another language. Spanish perhaps?”

She was doing so well to keep up with his quick speech and Alexia had to bite her tongue to not get involved.

He scoffed and continued to speak in Catalan. “You’re not even Spanish. Where is the chief pilot? Who are you?”

“I am the chief pilot. I’m not sure if you’re aware but women have been flying planes for a very long time. We’re as qualified and even more gentle on landings in my honest opinion.”

“You? A fighter pilot?”

“That’s correct.”

“When?”

“2011 to 2019.”

Over eight years…

“Where?”

“Australia.”

“You’re not even Spanish!”

“I will take the compliment that you didn’t recognise my accent.”

He grunted frustratedly. He was a man not getting his way. He could push and push but Ridley was a brick wall. Alexia saw her good hand bunching up tightly behind her back to nullify some of her anger.

“I don’t want a woman flying the plane. Tell the Captain to.”

“Unfortunately, her job is to fly. His is to monitor. Mine is to assess.”

“Well fucking change it.”

“That will not be happening today.”

She’d never seen Ridley like this before. So… diplomatic. This was career Ridley.

The man let loose a jumble of Catalan at her that even Alexia struggled to understand. His hands flew up in anger, his voice attracting attention.

Alexia couldn't take it anymore. She moved to stand and felt Ridley’s fingertips softly grip the flesh of her upper arm as if she were telling her to stop. As if she knew what she was about to do. It was her broken hand so only a few fingers were actually holding her, but it still calmed her. She relaxed into her seat and Ridley’s grip remained on her.

She looked at the messages written on her cast, including the one from Alexia.

Some things can’t be replaced, she’d written.

She’d been referring to her relationship with Blau, and Ridley had known that immediately. She’d said that to her the night in the bar when she returned her dad’s bracelet to her. She’d also said it when she’d returned the teddy she’d received from a young fan. Both she’d retrieved with violence. And both times she’d given her belongings back with the utmost gentleness.

Alexia had also drawn two flowers on her cast to make it look pretty. Ridley had been patient and her little smile was approval enough that she liked them.

“Stop. Now. You have two options right now, and only two.”

The man immediately shut up as he listened. Anybody would have with the command dominating her voice.

“You either sit back down and accept that a female will in fact be flying this planes, or you can do anything but, and I have you off-boarded, fined, and banned from this airline for lifetime, and from all aircraft for six months.”

She could no longer see the man but she could hear his mouth open and close.

“You have five seconds to decide. Make your choice.”

Alexia counted to five in her head and as soon as they were up, she spoke.

“Good choice. Now do not cause a disturbance again or you and I will have issue. My offer of ban you still stands until we land.”

She heard the man skulk away and Ridley stood watching him as he went.

“Any more issues, notify me immediately,” she murmured in Spanish one of the flight attendants. Ridley stepped back and only then did she release Alexia’s arm and she immediately wanted her touch to return. She craved it. Even in the alleyway as she’d squeezed her throat with her broken hand; tight enough so she couldn’t breathe but it had excited her more than any foreplay ever had. She’d not wanted her to let go then either, and yet she had.

Ridley squatted down near Alexia and gave her typical Ridley smirk.

“Did you plan on fighting him with words or fists, la Reina?” She asked in Spanish.

“I had a few things I wanted to say… besides, you’re the fighter here.”

“Perhaps you can tell me what those things are later. And I’d be more than happy to teach you…” She looked her up and down. “You’re fit enough. And we can protect your knee.”

We? Alexia felt hot all over. Teach her to fight? Thoughts of a sweaty, cocky Ridley were a turn on that made her have to collect herself before she spoke.

“Perhaps.”

“You still have your favour.”

“Something tells me you’d teach me without me using my favour.”

“Oh?” Her eyes lit up. Alexia could be cocky too. She tilted her head to study her, more than aware that the trio were in hearing range though trying to give them space. The fact that they wouldn’t understand the language made her want to keep flirting shamelessly. “Would you like to jump seat the take-off?”

“Jump seat?”

“In the flight deck with me.”

She turned to Jordan and spoke English. “Are you okay alone for take off?”

She pulled her headphones down. “Alone?”

“Lucy can sit with her,” Blau suggested.

“No, it’s okay. Stay with YFN, Luce, she needs you.” She turned back to Alexia. “I’ll be okay now that I know who’s up front.”

“Okay…”

Ridley stood and before Alexia could move, she’d leant forward to unclip her seatbelt and give her a smile.

“Right this way, la Reina.”

Blau gave her a wink as she went and Lucy looked disappointed that she’d missed out. Her attention quickly turned to Blau though as they leant their heads together, fingers tangled.

Alexia followed Ridley to the flight deck and couldn’t help studying her strong back through her shirt. She was taller than Alexia but not by much, just a few centimetres. With her demeanour though, it felt like much more.

The cabin crew gave her a smile as they passed by and entered the flight deck. It was both larger than she imagined and also more cramped at the same time.

“Friends, we have a guest joining us for take-off.”

They both turned and gave a hello, both grinning wide as they realised it was Alexia. She knew they’d ask for her autograph or photo but as of right now, they were being professional as they turned back to their checklists. Alexia and Ridley were standing so close due to there being not much room to stand in the doorway. Ridley smirked as she leant even closer, her musky, warm scent overwhelming Alexia and her eyes deep and the perfect proximity for her to fall into and just when she thought she’d kiss her… Ridley snapped the lock on the door beside them and pulled back. Cheeky.

Alexia mentally yelled to pull herself together. She was normally dominant. What was happening? It didn’t last long as Ridley’s hand found her hips and gently manoeuvred Alexia closer to the pilots as she folded down her jump seat and gestured to it.

Alexia sat and Ridley made quick work of her four-point harness, somehow easily even with her broken hand. Her dark, shaggy bob fell down and hid the cheek and sharp jawline Alexia was admiring as she leant over her. Ridley made sure to turn her head and catch her eye as she pulled it tight like it were bondage. Alexia gasped as the suddenness and Ridley enjoyed it.

The pilots were busy reading their checklists out loud when Ridley gently tucked Alexia’s blonde hair behind each of her ears simultaneously. She was right in front of her. Concentrating on her hair and not undressing her with her eyes. Just being gentle and attentive like she always was. She was so close. Alexia felt herself leaning forwards… and then the four point harness stopped her.

Ridley noticed and caught her eye, tutting at her.

“Now, now, la Reina. Are you going to behave?”

Alexia was well aware her breathing was ragged and so she didn’t speak, just nodded.

“Good girl.”

Those words did something to her.

Ridley took the headset off its hook and placed it over her ears, adjusting it until it was perfect and then pushing the microphone so close it touched her lips. Ridley’s thumb softly brushed over Alexia’s bottom lip as she did so and Alexia could feel her nipples harden. Her body was already hers.

Ridley leant back and gave a thumbs up as a question. Alexia responded with a thumbs up and Ridley sat back in her own jump seat, strapping herself in the same way. She heard the engines starting up as the pilots ran through their next checklist. Ridley put her headphones on and did a radio check.

“Scale of one to five, how well can you hear me?” Ridley spoke in English.

“Five.”

“Good. Same here. Now keep the microphone on your lips so we can hear you.”

She took out a clipboard and opened it, starting to write. When the checklist was complete, she spoke.

“Time for introductions. Alexia, this is Jon, and Bella. Jon, Bella, this is Alexia. You may know her from being the greatest female footballer who ever lived.”

“You know each other?” Bella asked.

“We do,” Alexia admitted.

“Are you okay for a photo after we’re cruising?” Jon asked.

Alexia agreed.

“Okay, quick run through from me, team, so we’re all on the same page. English only in the flight deck to avoid confusion. Alexia will be jump seating the take-off but not the landing for flight review purposes of course. I’ve already debriefed you two on the requirements for today. Just fly as per normal, do your checklists and make your decisions as you usually would. This isn’t a pass or fail, it’s a standard I make sure we’re meeting to ensure safety, conformity and if any improvements are needed.” She grinned. “Which they always are. Nothing will be perfect, and that’s okay.”

She turned to Alexia. “Alexia we have what’s known as a ‘sterile flight deck’ up to six thousand feet, which is our transition level. This means no unnecessary speaking unless it relates to the flight operations. For you and I, we won’t be speaking at all. I’ll let you know when it’s over and you may speak but only in English to avoid confusion. Aviation is an English-based profession. Until then you will be able to hear everything, and if you need me, just give me a shove. Happy?”

Alexia nodded. In control, Ridley. She loved it. Melted for it. And she knew she’d dream about it, and perhaps… no… definitely touch herself over it.

Ridley turned to Jon and Bella.

“Everybody else happy?”

They agreed as they went back to another checklist.

Alexia was overwhelmed by the flight deck. The amount of switches and dials were completely unbelievable, even reaching up over their heads. The panels were backlit with a beautiful green and she couldn’t help but watch everything they did. Everything they said. It was all in English, but she kept up well enough.

They established ‘push-back approval’ and a little tug came to push them backwards. She didn’t understand all of what ‘ATC’ were saying because it was so quick, but she got the gist of it as they worked. They taxied as instructed via certain phonetic alphabet letters and Ridley was patiently watching, every so often noting something down.

She got excited as they entered and lined up on the runway. There was something about it just so… magical. Defiant of all physics, it seemed. Suddenly kicking a ball felt so simple.

They received their take-off clearance for ‘OKABI ONE ROMEO’ and Alexia gripped her seatbelt as they were about to set thrust.

“Ready?”

“Ready.”

Bella was flying, but it was Jon who pushed up the thrust levers. He pushed them half way, paused and then almost fully to the top.

“TOGA.”

“TOGA set.”

The increased speed quickly as they barrelled down the runway. She glanced at Ridley who looked calm, as if she’d done this a thousand times.

“80."

“Checked.”

“V1.” He said as he removed his hand from the thrust levers. “Rotate.”

Bella pulled back and they were suddenly climbing, all of the bumps from the runway disappearing to smooth air.

“Positive rate.”

“Gear up.”

“Gear up.” He repeated and selected the gear lever up.

Their detailed take-off continued, Ridley occasionally writing but mostly watching. They set autopilot to follow their flight route and suddenly she realised that it was one of the most exciting things she’d ever seen. And Ridley got to do it whenever she pleased. She couldn’t imagine the hard work it must have taken to get there.

As they passed their six-thousand feet ‘transition level’, Bella called “Transition” and Ridley finally spoke.

“Sterile flight deck ceased. Excellent departure, as always.”

They gave their thanks. “Okabi one ROMEO, hey?” Jon flashed a smile at Ridley.

Ridley rolled her eyes and said sarcastically. “Oh, what a coincidence.”

Still grinning, he turned back to fiddle around with a few more items.

“Romeo?” Alexia asked.

“My call sign from the air force.”

“Because your name starts with R? Phonetic alphabet?”

“Cute that you know that… and sure… let’s just say it’s because of that.”

Only then did Alexia realise it was probably because of her ability to chat people up. That twang of jealousy hit again as Ridley spoke. “Thoughts?”

She let out a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding. “It was magical.”

“I’ll have to take you for a flight one day. Teach you how to fly a plane.”

“Really?”

“Why not? You looked excited for the entire take-off sequence.”

She didn’t realise Ridley had been watching her. She’d been so focussed on the take-off. “Did I…?”

“Your expressions betray you, la Reina. Shall we take a selfie and get you back to your seat? Let’s hope Nobbs is still okay.”

Alexia and Ridley took a selfie with the crew and she signed autographs for them before they left. There was another close but not unwelcome moment as Ridley reached for the door, their bodies brushing together.

As she returned to her seat, Ridley made sure Jordan was okay, and that Blau was comfortable before she left them again, Alexia watching as she went. The food service was quick, but they’d all had a small breakfast already and had agreed to not eat as they planned on having lunch together in London. Lucy was grumbling, obviously hungry and Blau did well to distract her with affection and promises of a lot of food and… condiments if Alexia had heard right.

Regardless of them not eating food, something was brought around to each of them. They were all confused as the flight attendants put their tray tables down and placed the little bowl in front of them.

She smiled when she saw what it was. Crema catalana. Like the one she and Ridley had shared in Valencia. She stared at it with a smile on her face and just as she went to take her first bite she heard Lucy.

“Argh, that was amazing.”

She looked over. She was already finished. Alexia shared a look with Blau and they chuckled.

“What am I going to do with you?” Blau asked.

“Are you done already?!” Jordan asked, shocked.

“This shouldn’t be a shock to you, Dory. Her hunger is never satiated.”

“Which hunger are you referring to, little one?” Lucy teased as she leant in for a small, soft kiss.

“Walking bruise, Luce.”

“Oh, I’m not touching you until you’re whole again.”

“Would you like to bet on that?” Now it was Blau’s turn to tease. “Because I’m very persuasive…”

Lucy groaned. Jordan made a sick sound.

“Keep it to yourselves, lovebirds.”

Blau chuckled and turned to Jordan. “Soooo is she coming to lunch?”

“I think so...”

“I’d bet on it.”

Alexia watched the conversation over her like a tennis match. “Who comes?”

“Leah.”

“Williamson?”

“Yeah.”

Ah, the England Captain. Alexia had met her before at events. She knew of her relationship history with Jordan and Lucy had filled her in on them trying to find a way to work towards each other again. It sounded cute. And their lunch seemed to be expanding.

“Is Ridley coming?” Jordan asked.

“Unsure… need to ask.” Blau admitted.

Watching Jordan’s face soften as she mentioned Leah, and also Blau and Lucy cuddling up as close as they could get without further injury, Alexia found that she was relaxing around this group of people. So much so, that she was ready to admit why she was on a plane to London. It was because of the little, warm group around her.

And also, it was because of Ridley.

[opalwatch]

posting just some of my feitan headcanons to put off my anxiety about an impending zoom meeting

-he's autistic and has sensory issues. i fear this is common sense

-he can't stand loud noises. that's why he talks so quietly. the mask he wears helps to muffle loud noises, but if it's not enough, he has noise canceling headphones

-the only loud noises he can stand are the screams of people he tortures (fbi look away)

-he has two safe foods. the first is monster energy. he prefers the original flavor but any other flavor will do (except zero sugar). it's too bubbly for him (sensory issue) so he stirs out some of the bubbles but not all of them

-his other safe food is french fries, but from mcdonalds. he wont give that company money tho so he steals them

-when he's anxious/overstimulated, he'll knead biscuits into his thighs with his retractable claws (he has them because he's a zoldyck). if he's around other people, he'll try to hide it.

-said this in my pt music post but he listens to vocaloid and heavy metal. he likes poppy's latest albums. he likes maretu.

-he only listens to the same music over and over. he doesn't like discovering new music.

-he drinks extra monster when he's out on missions with the troupe because he has trouble sleeping in new places. change is hard for him.

-at his home, his bed is just a giant mound of pillows and blankets and soft things. he has to sleep curled up into a ball.

-when he's extremely anxious, he crochets. he either crochets matching sweaters for all the troupe members or voodoo dolls for torture. there is no in-between

-his english(? or whatever language is common in hxh) skills aren't too great because when he was growing up (critical period for language acquisition AAAAA I love being a psych major i love developmental psychology), his social anxiety was so bad that he didn't get to practice conversationally with others.

-machi saw him being a bundle of anxiety and didn't want him to be alone, but she saw that talking to him made him anxious. so instead of trying to play with him, she would just play on her own next to him. (sorry i didnt mean to make this about machi)

-again his special interest is monster energy. he collects every can he drinks and makes them into intricate towers. the other troupe members know not to make the tower fall because it'll cause him to lose it. that's how phinks found out what rising sun was

-last one for now i have to join my zoom meeting. the other troupe members sometimes help him build the monster can towers and shit. feitan doesn't really like it all too much because he likes to think it's his own special thing, but he doesn't say anything because he doesn't want to hurt anyone's feelings

-when hisoka was in the troupe, though, he offered to use bungee gum to secure more cans together. feitan did NOT allow this.

[augustisfitlikeadaydream]

𝙸𝚗𝚌𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚝 𝚀𝚞𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚜 𝙵𝚝. 𝙻𝚎𝚘𝚗, 𝙲𝚑𝚛𝚒𝚜, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚈/𝚗

Chris: What do you think Leon will do for a distraction?
Y/n: He’ll probably, like, make a noise or throw a rock. That’s what I would do.
*Building explodes and several car alarms go off*
Y/n: ... or he could do that.

Chris: Hey, Leon? Can I get some dating advice?
Leon: Just because I’m with Y/n doesn’t mean I know how I did it.

Chris: Hey Leon,
Leon: Yes?
Chris: Can a person breathe inside a washing machine while it’s on?
Leon:
Leon: Where’s Y/n?

Chris: I’m kind of crushing on someone, but I’m worried about telling you who it is, because you’re not going to like it
Leon: Just rip the bandage off.
Chris: It’s Y/n.
Leon: Put the bandage back on.

Chris, in a high voice, holding barbie: hey ken! I was thinking about going back to school and starting a career!
Y/n, in a deep voice, holding ken: nonsense, barbie. you’re staying home and having my kids
Leon: what the fuck are you guys doing?
Chris: playing systemic oppression

Chris: If I accidentally sat on a voodoo doll of myself, would I be trapped forever in that position, doomed to starve to death?
Leon: How am I supposed to know?
Y/n: You say, as if we don’t use you as a source of knowledge of the occult.
Leon: *sighs*
Leon: You wouldn't be trapped.

Y/n: Leon and I were crossing the street, and this dude drove by, honked then yelled at us.
Chris: *Sighing* What did Leon do? 
Y/n: He chased him to the next red light, then reached into his window and... 
Leon: Who wants a steering wheel?