#i think i finally settled on a hairstyle

[samwise1548]

Did some Sam doodles today

[ID: Three pencil drawings of Samama Khalid from The Magnus Protocol. The first drawing is a simple bust shot where Sam looks to the side awkwardly.

The second is in a more simple style. Sam is sitting at a desk with an old computer. He moves away from it in shock and says "Woah!" as it makes its own noises. There is a an orange background behind the drawing.

The last one is also done in a simple style. A bust of Sam looks at the viewer with blown up, vacant eyes, a smile, and a thumbs up. An arrow above his head reads "living his best life". A second arrow below him continues "ignoring the horrors." \End ID]

[bobbinalong]

Jon Kent Week 2023, Day 7: Free Day | @jonkentweek

Picking up old hobbies.

[yuriyuruandyuraart]

it's night time<333 (with a lil sibling bonding bonus: >;Dc)

studio au belongs to @zu-is-here fem designs are made by me

[sysig]

New shapeshifter lad, Dahlia (Patreon)

[hairmetal666]

Steve goes to a gay club for the first time alone. He and Robin, they'd talked about it since moving to Chicago, but every time they made plans he got cold feet.

But on a random, rainy Saturday with Robin back home in Hawkins, he decides fuck it, puts on his sluttiest jeans and polo, and goes to the damn club. He's sick of being nervous--he's going to make out with a guy for the first time tonight.

The club is crowded, loud, sweaty, the energy a pulsing wave. He's overwhelmed immediately, but it's invigorating. He pushes towards the bar, orders a beer, then cozies himself against the nearest wall.

He sips his drink and watches beautiful men dance and kiss and play, and he wants to be part of it, get out there, find his own person to get close to but--

What if none of this is for him? He feels out of place in his clothes, with his hairstyle, an old version of himself that doesn't belong in this world.

There's a swell of sound at the bar, and he glances over, expecting drunks or fighting. Instead, he sees a guy who makes his plans to leave slip straight from his mind.

He's unlike any other person there, even within his group. Long, curly hair, visible tattoos, ripped black jeans, a faded black t-shirt under a big leather jacket. He moves with purpose and grace, obviously uncaring about fitting in.

Steve can't stop watching him, transfixed. He buys another beer, settles back against his wall. He knows it's weird, but can't bring himself to care. Not when it's helping him feel more comfortable in his own skin.

The guy, he's vibrant, the brightest spot, his laughter reaching Steve even over the pounding music.

He's beautiful.

The lights flash, illuminating his face and recognition hits Steve like a fist. It's Eddie Munson, former freak of Hawkins High.

Steve's spine straightens, chest tightening. He can't believe--I mean there were rumors about Eddie in school, but he's here, right now, in Chicago, and Steve--Steve--

He abandons the remains of his beer, rushing out the door.

---

Steve goes back the next night.

He doesn't mean to; didn't have any plans to do it, but the clock turns to 9 and he pulls on the same slutty jeans, this time with an old blue t-shirt a size too small.

It's not because Eddie could be there again, he reassures himself as he shows the bouncer his ID. It's not like he wants to see him or has been thinking about him nonstop. No, it's because tonight's the night he finally makes a move. He needed a test run to find his footing, but now--

Eddie's at the bar. His hair is pulled up, loose tendrils around his face. No jacket this time; the rolled up sleeves of his black t-shirt showing off his wiry muscles, the swirling ink of his tattoos. Something low and hot clenches in Steve's stomach.

There's no way he's going to be preoccupied with Munson tonight. He came here to flirt and dance and maybe get lucky, and he'll ignore Eddie. He will.

Steve orders a beer, sits at the bar this time, his eyes lingering on black ink and pale skin. No matter how hard he tries, he can't seem to tear his eyes away from the ease and assurance Eddie moves with. He's so unafraid to take up space, it's intoxicating.

He loses track of Munson when he orders a second drink, his face no longer immediately visible in the crowd. Disappointment sinks his stomach until a voice to his left says, "You better be planning to buy me a drink, pretty boy."

The voice is low, oddly melodic, and he turns to find Eddie Munson's sparkling brown eyes gazing down at him. He's surprised, hides it, says, "Sure. What are you having?"

Eddie's mouth opens, but his eyes narrow. "Wait--Steve Harrington??"

"Um." His mouth goes dry. "Munson. Hi?"

"I--uh--wouldn't think this was your scene." Eddie shifts back, puts distance between them, and Steve hates it. Hates that Munson thinks the space is necessary, hates that he used to a person that made people feel that way.

"Yeah, well. A lot has changed since high school."

"Is that right? Surely not this much."

"Wouldn't you like to know."

Eddie's eyebrow lifts, but his mouth is a tight line. "Have a cigarette with me."

Steve nods and follows him out a side door into a narrow alley. Eddie pulls out two cigarettes, hands one to Steve. There's something about the cold politeness that sends a fizzle of disappointment down his spine.

"What brings you here?" Eddie asks.

"To Chicago or to this club?"

"Don't be cute."

"Can't help it." He smirks and Eddie rolls his eyes. "I moved to Chicago three months ago with my best friend, Robin. I'm at this club trying to explore my bisexuality."

Eddie's in the middle of taking a drag, splutters on the smoke. "Holy Shit."

He shrugs, knows he's blushing. "What can I say? I've spent the last few years learning about myself."

"And one of the things was that you like dick?"

"Looks like it."

'Well, goddamn, Steve Harrington."

"Impressed?"

Eddie licks his lips, steps closer. "Maybe I am."

"I aim to please." Steve lets himself grin.

"I bet you do," Eddie's voice goes even lower, and heat dances deep in Steve's stomach. "Wanna dance?"

"Thought you'd never ask." Steve blinks up at Eddie from under his eyelashes.

They go inside and join the bodies packed on the dance floor. At first, they keep their distance, dancing and laughing with an arm's length between them, but it's not long before they're drawn together, arms twining, legs pressed together. Their eyes lock, Steve can't look away, wouldn't even if he wanted to. Eddie's hands go to his waist, pull him closer.

"You're gorgeous, Harrington," he says it with his lips pressed to Steve's ear, goosebumps spreading across his skin.

"Yeah?"

"Can I tell you a secret?"

"Of course."

Eddie's mouth presses closer. "I used to have the biggest crush on you in high school."

"Fuck, Eddie," he says. "That's so--"

"Weird?"

"Fucking hot, dude."

"Can I tell you another secret?" Eddie's voice is all rumble.

"Course,"

"I can't stop thinking about kissing you."

"You could do something about it."

Eddie smiles, eyes going darker, almost predatory. He leans in, their breath mingling, Steve's hitching.

"You sure you want me to?" Eddie asks, mouth barely brushing Steve's.

"Please," and it comes out like he's been punched.

He thinks the kiss will be hard, hot, but Eddie's hand is gentle as it cups the back of his head, slowly pulls him in. It's a soft meeting of mouths, almost tender. His head is swimming, blood thrumming low and hot and sweet. He parts his lips and then all he can feel, taste, sense is Eddie.

It cracks something inside him, and his fingers dig into the fabric of Eddie's shirt, eagerly licking into his mouth. It must crack something in Eddie too, because he's hauling Steve impossibly closer until his legs have to wrap around Eddie's waist, or they're falling.

They break apart with a breathless laugh, both red cheeked and bright eyed. They don't move apart, instead they dance and make out until the music stops and the lights come up.

Eddie twines their fingers together as they walk to the exit, Steve sweaty and elated and a little head over heels.

Out on the sidewalk, basking in the cool air, Eddie stops him. "Can I--uh, take you for a drink? Or back to my place? I don't--not to assume, but I--"

"Both. Anywhere," Steve laughs. "I don't want this night to end."

Eddie's smile is brilliant, heart stopping. "Your wish is my command."

[bountydroid]

Darlin' pt 4

pt 1 / pt 2 / pt 3 / pt 5

Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x f!reader (Slowburn romance)

Description: Reader realizes her growing feelings for her traveling companion in Filly.

Notes: Okay, so I am SO proud of this part. Please let me know what you guys think. 

TW: Kinda angsty at the end.

"Find somethin' to do," Cooper says as he makes himself comfortable on a chair, watching the store across from him carefully. 

I huffed and crossed my arms before looking around. "A new shirt would be nice." I thought to myself as I looked down at my mud-covered clothing.

"You got any extra caps?" I asked, leaning up against the side of his chair.

"No." He responds shortly. 

I hummed in response. Just as I started to walk away I felt him grab my wrist, "Don't get into any trouble darlin'." He said, smirking, "Wouldn't want a repeat of last time. You'll scare away my target." 

Embarrassment crept up into my cheeks, "I'll be good." I mumbled. I was not sure If I was telling that to myself or him. Probably both to be honest, but it seemed to satisfy him as he let go of my arm. The last thing I wanted to do was mess up this job for him. He was finally warming up to me, and the idea of ruining that ate at the back of my mind.

Filly was an interesting town. It was packed to the brim with fiends and travelers alike. I couldn't help the nervousness that settled in my stomach as I got farther and farther away from my newfound companion. I felt safe with him, safer than I have ever felt in my life. Most people would think that strange. Safe with a ghoul? I thought back to the man who called me a freak for being with the ghoul as I blushed. He thought we were together. A couple. Butterflies found their way into my stomach as I thought about the possibility. Romance was something that I never thought I would experience beyond the tattered books my brother got me from a wandering trader.

"Stop being stupid, Y/n. He doesn't want you." I thought to myself.

Without any caps, I decided to find a place to sit and lay low. I was determined to stay out of trouble, so I found a nice tree to sit up against while I watched all the people go by. I found watching all the different kinds of people walk through extremely interesting. All different types of hair colors, hairstyles, clothing, and weapons. Not to mention odd couples, siblings, and partners. All the new experiences were overwhelming. I found myself sitting there watching for longer than expected. After I had my fill, I got up from the tree and started heading back to Cooper. 

"Right where I left you," I said to myself as his sitting form became clear. He had his hat covering most of his face, I assumed it was to avoid detection. The last town made it very clear that ghouls were not welcome.

As I made my over to him I saw his head tilt and his eyes peer up at me from under his hat. I smiled at him, "No trouble here."

He snorted in response as his eyes flickered over to the men wrestling each other across the way. "You might be the only one darlin'."

I leaned up against his chair again, letting some weight off of my feet. "My feet are-" I start to say before a person caught my eye. Her unique outfit and soft hair made her stand out from the rest of the crowd. 

"A vaultie," Cooper responds, anticipating my question before it even forms.

"Those are real?" I gasp before leaning forward, wanting to get closer to her. 

"Yeah, they are real." Cooper sighed as his hand shot back up to my arm. "Don't talk to her."

I frown but I keep quiet as I continue to watch her. He then kicked my foot gently to draw my attention back to him. "I mean it, darlin'."

"Fine," I say sighing as she disappears into the shop across the way. I felt sadness creep into my stomach as his hand dropped down to his lap and went back to fiddling with an empty Jet bottle. The butterflies from earlier returned as I thought about his touch. I bit my lip as I stared up at the sky.

"What has gotten into me?" I thought to myself.

We stayed there in silence for some time before a man and a dog came into town, making his way to the same shop the vaultie was in. I recognized him from the drawing. It was the bounty. I shifted in anticipation as he started making conversation with the vaultie at the front door.

"So now what?" I whispered, excitement laced in my voice. 

"Now... you find somewhere to hide," Cooper said back. "And you don't come out till' I say so, got it?"

I frowned, confused. "Hide?" 

"They ain't gonna let me just take him, darlin'." He responded, shifting in his seat as he readied for action.

The implication was clear. There was going to be another shootout. Not only was I unarmed, but I was unfamiliar with weapons altogether. Hiding was definitely the best course of action for me. 

"Right," I said as I looked around before making my way behind one of the buildings.

Once I was finally out of view I heard Cooper's familiar voice, "Whilzig!" He shouted.

I peeked around the corner to see him walking up to the bounty. At this point, they were too far away for me to hear. I could tell that the people of the town now saw him for what he was as all eyes were on him, a ghoul. "That is a lot of people." I thought to myself. I was starting to worry.

"Now last night a bounty came in through all six agencies!" He shouted again. 

I whipped back around and pressed myself to the building taking deep breaths as I tried to tamp down the panic in my chest. Once the first gunshot rang out I could hear the townspeople scrambling. "Maybe no one will give him any trouble?" I thought to myself. I was being naive again, but I didn't care.

"I got a thousand bottle caps for whoever kills that fucker!" I heard a woman scream out. "But you don't get shit if I kill him first."

"Shit," I whispered. I took one last deep breath before I peeked back around the building. I watched as Cooper moved in a circle, taking count of all the men lining up to fight for those caps. Our eyes met for a moment. While my eyes were filled with fear, his eyes were filled with confidence. He gave me a small smirk before continuing to circle around, waiting for someone to be brave enough to take a shot. 

Once the shots started, all hell broke loose. I could hear wood breaking and bodies being thrown. Some of the ammunition even made its way through the buildings and out the other side. 

In defense, I curled up in a ball on the ground. I was so worried about him that I didn't even realize that I could be shot too.

When there was a brief pause in gunfire, I fought the temptation to look out again. "Don't come out till I say so." His words echoed in my head.

As the shots started up again, I felt something pierce my arm. I fought the urge to shout in pain as tears started to run down my face. One of the men's shots went through the building and into my arm. I look down to see a nail and some wood splinters sticking out of me. 

"Fuck." I whimpered as I cradled the wound trying to take deep breaths.

As I did my best to steady my breathing I heard a robotic voice say, "She said stand down ghoul."

I look around the corner to see a knight making his way towards Cooper, "Knight Titus of the Brotherhood of Steel. Stand down, or be cut down."

I couldn't hear Cooper's response, but I saw a look of disbelief and amusement on his face. 

"Just do what he says, please," I whisper to myself. "Cooper." Just as I finish saying his name he lifts his gun at the girl and the knight makes a run towards her, jumping in front of her to take the bullet. 

I squeeze my teary eyes together as I turn back around. If Cooper was going to be killed by this knight. I didn't want to see it. 

Gunshots rang out again, this time it was just Cooper and the knight. To distract myself I looked back down at my arm, still bleeding. I had no idea what to do so I decided to pull the nail out. I took a deep breath in anticipation before giving it a good, hard yank. I couldn't help the loud cry that escaped my mouth. At the same time, I heard a body fly into some wood nearby. "It's not Cooper, it's not Cooper," I repeated over and over again as I fussed over my arm. 

"Well, I'd say come up here and get me, but it's hard to walk upstairs while wearing a 12-piece cast-iron skillet set." Cooper chuckled.

Relief flooded my body when I heard his voice. The sudden sounds of bullets, explosions, and crashing filled my ears. I closed my eyes tight as I waited for it all to stop.

Eventually, I heard the knight flying overheard, clearly having lost control of his suit. It was over. 

"Y/n?" I heard Cooper yell out. 

I unsteadily got up on my feet and shuffled out from behind the building, still cradling my arm. "I am here."

As his eyes raked me over and stopped at my arm a look of concern washed over his face. He jogged over to take a closer look.

"I'm okay." I try and convince him as he gently touches my wound. 

"Those crocodile tears suggest otherwise, sugar." Cooper responds, giving me a small smile. "Let's find you a stimpack."

I nod my head as he wraps his arm protectively around me and guides me towards the shop. He only lets go when we reach the dog, wounded and whining on the ground. He gently picks it up and brings it into the shop with us. After putting the dog down on the table, he starts to rummage through the junk in the shop. 

"There's gotta be one around here somewhere." He mumbles. 

Between sniffles I say, "When you find one, give it to the dog."

He lets out a small chuckle as he finally finds what he's looking for. "Well lucky for us I found two."

"And the bounty?" I ask as he makes his way towards me.

"Ah, I'll get him," Cooper says, brushing off my concerns before he quickly stabs me with the needle.

"Ouch!" I whine as he rubs my arm while shushing me.

"You are okay, Darlin'." He coos.

"The dog-" I start.

"I got the dog." Cooper interrupts before giving the dog the other stimpack, petting his head gently. A smile erupts across his face as the dog pops up, immediately feeling better. "There."

I smile wide as I watch him with the dog. "You like dogs."

He looks over at me still smiling as his eyes flicker over to my arm. The wound was healed and I am no longer cradling it, the pain completely gone. "Feelin' better?" He asked, already knowing the answer.

All the feelings I had experienced during the shootout came flooding back to me as my smile faded. I felt overwhelmed with sadness, fear, and relief. "I-" I started as tears filled my eyes. 

"I was so worried about you!" I cried out as I ran towards him and wrapped my arms around him. 

Faster than it took to wrap my arms around him, I felt him rip me off. He dug his fingers into my shoulders as he held me at arm's length, shaking me gently. "Don't." He said sternly.

Embarrassment washed over me as I stared down at my feet. "I-"

"Just, don't." He interrupted, sighing before releasing me. "We will wait here until nightfall and then we'll follow Whilzig's trail. See if you can find anything useful around here while we wait."

"Okay," I whispered in response before shuffling to the other end of the store. The rejection stung so deeply that I could barely focus on what I was looking at. Right when he started to warm up to me, I ruined it.

tag list: @msrawog @valdemarismynonbinarylove @topiramateagreeable @whizbang-cap @sitkafay

[terry-perry]

Hey, I see you're looking for Alastor request to write him better.

Could I get Alastor x F! Reader where they're constantly flirting with each other until someone shouts just kiss already which takes Alastor off guard enough for the reader to sweep in and kiss him, then as he kisses back she gets dragged off to is room. The rest from there is up to you :)

Inspired by the writings of F. Scott Fitzgerald

"Do you think I ought to bob my hair, Alastor?" Y/N asked the distinguished demon by her side as they shared a few drinks at the hotel's bar. Husk busied himself by wiping some glasses, refraining from rolling his eyes as the pair continued with this back-and-forth.

"I'd look rather darling with such a hairstyle, don't you think?"

"An absolute dream, my dear," Alastor responded, regarding her more intently than usual.

He wasn't sure what it was, but something about her was especially vivacious that night. Perhaps it was the way she seemed to make a bit of effort to be on his level for the dinner-dance the hotel was hosting to celebrate its grand re-opening. Like with many of the antics that go on in the place, Alastor stood passively by, subtly scaring those who came close to him.

Then he spotted her.

He liked how becoming the dark red dress she wore was and how It set off her unnaturally shadowy eyes. Let's not forget about the way her hair glistened so! It was almost like the stars were woven into it.

"You know, back when I was alive, having such a hairstyle would be considered immoral, sinful," Alastor remarked, shamelessly reaching out to twirl a few strands of her hair around his sharp nails. "It was a sure and easy way to attract certain attention."

She took in the way his eyes floated towards hers, but not before making their way up slowly from her legs. Had he been anyone else, she would've disregarded his remark with a brutal slap (perhaps with something worse if she were in the mood). But this was the Radio Demon she was speaking with.

She knew she had him right where she wanted him the moment she stepped in. If her attire hadn't drawn him in, then it was definitely all the attention she gathered from the other party guests who would offer to dance with her. Each one that would head her way with enthusiastic determination would have Alastor's eye twitch before he finally decided it was his turn to cut in.

After that, she was his and no one else's. After all no one would dare be stupid enough to steal the Radio Demon's dance partner.

"Well, it's a good thing we're in Hell then," Y/N said, going as far as laying a hand on the normally touch-aversed Alastor's knee. In this case, however, a glow settled almost imperceptibly over him.

Their eyes met completely, and they stopped talking entirely as they stared at each other. It wasn't until an irritated voice intruded on their space and made the glow fade away.

"For fuck's sake, will you two just get it on already?!" Angel Dust screeched from the Y/N's other side. "This was amusing for a while, but you've been dancing around each other all night. The party ended hours ago, and you still haven't even kissed yet."

An awkward silence followed this. Alastor looked at Angel, eye twitching once more. He wouldn't understand that a classy lady like Y/N deserved to be wooed properly. She's, no doubt, heard every practiced line known in this side of the Pentagram. And she certainly wouldn't react well to such bold actions like hot kisses and heavy petting.

Alastor opened his mouth to explain as much when Y/N grabbed a hold of his face and placed a big kiss on his lips. He would've been more shocked had it not felt like such blissful oblivion. It was better than any glass of rye he had ever drank. He kept a stronghold of her, his claws piercing the small of her back while his other hand took hold of her hair.

They eventually released one another, going back to looking at each other.

"Forgive me," she managed to say between heavy breaths. She kept her bold smile on as well as a tight grip on his lapel. "You've got an awfully kissable mouth."

And with that, the glow returned along with a desire to finish this upstairs.

"About fucking time," Husk uttered, watching with Angel the way Alastor dragged a giddy Y/N to his room.

[fruity-phrog]

I can’t find the post that inspired this idea but when Edwin says Pakistan and India were the same country when he went to school, this could indicate he’s been back on Earth for maybe a few months and has been hanging around maybe in the back of classes, picking up on how the world changed. He’s also been around long enough to dig up presumably discontinued copies of Boy Detectives. So I think when he offers Charles a lantern it wasn’t the first time seeing him.

Imagine him sneaking into a history class, still tiptoeing in after the last boy because he keeps forgetting that no one can see or hear him, and he catches the eye of the boy he followed in. Well, he didn’t catch his eye per se, no one can see him, but he caught Edwin’s attention. He’s seen him around before - dicking around with him mates, never actively being a disruption but confident and epithet favouring enough to perturb Edwardian Edwin. But suddenly, catching this moment alone with Charles, or alone as he can be in a class of boys, he suddenly feels drawn to him. He brushes it off, settles in a free seat in the back and listens (not making notes for fear of people seeing the pen floating).

However, he finds himself favouring Charles’ classes over his previous system of only attending history, geography or English. He knows Maths most likely won’t have changed in the years he was gone, but something about Charles hunched in the back row, flinching every now and again as his friends whisper stuff about their classmates. He doesn’t even know his name, but his punk hairstyle and clear disrespect for school uniform pulls Edwin to him, and he doesn’t know why. From the attic he hid from when he was a student, Edwin watches him with his mates. When they coax Charles out into the woods, he has a bad feeling - and then, being pulled out of his thoughts by Charles stumbling into the attic, shivering and cold, his suspicions are confirmed. He brings him a lantern, finally learns his name, and the rest is history.

[henrycangelbaby]

hiii, are you taking requests?

could you maybe write something about reader and logan telling their daughter that she's going to be a big sister?

or maybe reader telling logan through their daughter (for example making her wear a tshirt that says big sister or making her give him a gift or smth like that)

btw i love your work!!

thank youuuu <3333

In which: She seemed to think for a second, her tiny finger coming up to her lip to ponder his question. “Like, have a baby sister?” she asked, her big eyes peering up at him, melting his heart.

Or

Issy is set to become the best big sister.

It's Logan that picks up on it first; maybe he's the more perceptive one of the two of them; perhaps his super senses are finally good for something other than hearing his daughter in the middle of the night. Or maybe he just cares; he cares for his Y/N more than he could say, and that's why he first sees it.

It starts off with small things—well, not exactly small.

Her boobs—not to be crude, but the first thing Logan picks up on is her boobs. Listen, he's spent enough time looking at them (and licking them) to notice when the girls are different; they seem well bigger, not by heaps, but it's noticeable to him.

It's not only their size; they also become well sensitive.

Obviously, it's not something that he picks up on by himself; Issy has started sleeping better. They had finally made it out of the terrible transition stage, having her sleep in her own bed. As much as Logan loves his daughter, he is grateful for the space he gets back with his wife.

Speaking of his pretty little wife, he simply wasn't able to resist her one night. Issy had gone down for bed early, early enough that he knows they will regret it when she wakes up at the crack at dawn tomorrow morning, but it seems alight now when he has Y/Ns lips on his. It's been a while since he had a feverish make out with his hot wife, and he almost forgot how good it is. He doesn't even think before reaching out to grab one of her boobs; he pulls back surprised when she yelps, pulling back from him quickly.

“Sweets, you okay? What's wrong? I'm sorry if I—”

He's cut off by her as she shakes her head at him.

“No, honey, it’s, um—I don’t know what happened,” he says, looking at her, pulling back slightly to get a better look. “What’s wrong, baby? Are you hurting somewhere?”

She shakes her head again before replying, “No, I mean, it’s fine, it's just my boob.”

He cocks his head in confusion.

“I’m not sure what happened; it just hurt when you touched it. I’m sorry.”

He smiles. “Don’t apologize.”

She pouts jokingly at him before he speaks again. “Is anything else hurting, baby?”

She only shakes her head in response, climbing off him and laying down in their shared bed.

“It’s probably just my period or something,” she dismisses.

He hums like he doesn’t quite believe her, but he drops it, settling down next to her.

“How about one more kiss, a goodnight one?” she asks, widening her eyes.

Who was Logan to deny her anything?

He pecks her quickly on the lips before reaching to turn off the light, plunging them into sudden darkness.

The next thing that Logan notices is the nausea; it's not obvious. She doesn’t just start throwing up 24/7 like she did the first time. It's more subtle this time; she starts turning her nose away from certain smells, apologizing profusely when she suddenly can’t stand the smell of his shampoo and makes him stand farther away. He doesn’t take offense to it; it makes him laugh a little. His skin has grown a little thicker since starting a family. He laughs now at the memory, but at the time he had been anything less than amused when Issy had broken down in tears after he had grown his mustache. Needless to say, he hasn't tried a new facial hairstyle in a while.

It's not just him that puts her off; Y/N begins to turn her nose up at certain foods. Eggplant goes first. They don’t eat it a lot; eggplant isn’t exactly a toddler-friendly food, and neither he nor Y/N really have time to be cooking up interesting meals to include non-puréed veggies. But it's not them who cooks the eggplant; they go out to dinner one night. They don’t get out of the house as much as they used to for obvious reasons, but Logan is still the biggest advocate for date night. He hires the babysitter, books the restaurant, and refuses to share the driving with Y/N.

The night was going well—more than well. Really, anytime Logan gets to spend with his wife is a good time, but it is nice to get out of the house, talk about something other than their teething toddler, or which streaming services they really need for the house. The restaurant is somewhat upmarket; Logan works hard, goddamn it, and what is money for if not taking your lovely wife to a restaurant that serves thirty-dollar pasta?

Everything is great; Y/N gets the aforementioned thirty-dollar pasta, and Logan opts for a nice, juicy burger with a side of chips. The food is nice, which he considers it should be for the price point. They chat and giggle about silly things until Y/N stops abruptly, suddenly pressing the back of her hand to her mouth. Logan watches in concern as she pinches her eyes shut tightly.

“Baby, are you—”

He's cut off as her other hand comes up to silence him, shaking her head at him in lieu of answering his concern. They sit in silence for a moment; the restaurant moves around them as he peers over at her, worry settling in him. After a beat, she clears her throat, attempting to shake off whatever had come over her.

“What's wrong? Are you okay, baby?” he asks after she seems to compose herself.

“Yeah, sorry, um, did you smell that?”

He shook his head before she continued.

“Oh, I think it was eggplant or something, and it just was so strong.”

He nodded before urging her to continue.

“I'm not sure why, but it just got to me, like it smelled so bad, it made me sick.”

He tried to get a word in before she apologized.

“I’m sorry.”

He shook his head again. “No, no, it’s fine. Do you feel okay now?”

“Yeah, it just made me—it didn’t smell good, made me feel a little sick.”

He hummed. “I’m fine now.”

She smiles in reassurance. “S’ok, baby, finish up, and we can get away from the evil vegetables.”

This got a chuckle out of Y/N.

It’s not something that he would usually consider or mull over, but he lets it get in his head; it just seemed out of character, so out of character for his Y/N. He thinks about it; it's not just the eggplant saga. She just seems weird at the moment.

The straw that breaks the camel's back (that being Logan's curiosity) is her period.

While Logan prides himself on being a doting husband, he isn't exactly a stalker; he can't tell exactly what day she is in her cycle or when she might bleed, but he has an idea. Her first period back after having Issy had been bad, and it hasn't seemed to get much better since then. He has a general ballpark of her period; he wants to be prepared, so when the extra tampons he picks up at the supermarket go untouched, his wifey senses start tingling.

A missed period could mean nothing; it could come in a week's time to surprise them all, but he feels different, that maybe this could mean something. When it doesn't come for the week, his curiosity peaks. He's not entirely sure what the etiquette is for telling someone else you think they could be pregnant, but it begins to feel like he's hiding a massive secret from her.

How had she not noticed? Was this all in his head? Maybe this was a sign from the universe telling him he should get her pregnant again.

Issy knocks out early; it's a Friday night, and Logan feels like the week has dragged on for a month. He sits next to Y/N; they share the couch as they both stare into the TV, both content with the silence in the room. It had not been a silent day. It stays like this while the sun dips below the horizon. Logan thinks they are probably both tired enough to go to bed right now.

His theory is proven half right when he peeks out of the corner of his eye to see Y/N's eyes drooping every so often.

"Hey," he says quietly.

Y/N half jerks awake in surprise, turning to face him. "Yeah?"

"Why don’t we go to bed, honey?"

"Yeah, okay," she agreed, offering her hand out to him. He took it, standing chest to chest with her for a second. He cocked his head at her slightly; now was as good a time as ever (not really, but whatever).

"Baby," she only hummed in response, looking up at him. "Is everything okay?"

She pulled back from him, slightly furrowing her eyebrows. "Yeah, why’d you ask?" she responded rather suspiciously.

"You haven't felt off recently? Sick at all?"

She seemed to ponder this one for longer. "I mean, sure, a little bit, but I think I'm due my period soon or something," she dismissed.

"Okay, listen, I know this sounds silly." He took a breath before continuing, "Do you think you could be pregnant again?"

She stepped away from him this time; he couldn't quite figure out the look on her face. Was she upset? He quickly tried to recover his statement.

"I just mean, you know, the nausea and your boobs and stuff—that all happened with Issy. I just thought that maybe—"

He was interrupted by her speaking quickly, "My period!"

He looked at her, confused. "Yeah, that too."

She chuckled, shaking her head. "My period is late as well, isn't it?"

He nodded in confirmation.

"Oh my god, Lo, it's been bothering me all week; I've felt like I was missing something, like I had forgotten something, but it was just that." She let out a joking sigh of relief. "But yeah, on a serious note, the thought crossed my mind."

She spoke again. "I haven't really had time to act on it yet, but I was going to chat with you on the weekend."

He smiled at her answer. They were always on the same page, even if they didn't realize it.

"How 'bout I buy you a couple of tests tomorrow? We can take them while Issy's at her playdate," he suggested.

"Good thinking, handsome," she replied, leaning up to kiss him.

The next morning, as promised, he drops Issy off at her friend’s house and picks up a few pregnancy tests on his way home. They sit huddled in the bathroom together, waiting for the results of the test on top of the toilet seat. It’s not as bad as it was the first time; it had been unexpected and worrying the first time it had come up. Taking the test had felt like changing their entire lives with a piece of plastic, but now it just felt right.

Perhaps he had grown into parenting more than he had realized, but every time he thought about his family, he thought about growing it. Being a parent to multiple little girls, all with their mother's eyes. He was a strong man; he could handle a kid on each arm, maybe even one more wrapped around his chest. This time it felt right. This time he hoped for the test to come up positive.

And it did.

She shrieked slightly as he threw his arms around her.

“This is good, so good,” he muttered into her hair.

“Yeah,” she breathed, nodding.

They kept it to themselves for a while; they didn’t intentionally mean to keep secrets from their daughter, but it was nice to live in their little bubble for a while. The knowledge of their family growing was all but positive, and it felt important to them. It warmed his heart whenever he thought about it.

They weren’t just keeping their bubble whole; they also were unsure how to approach it with Issy. Perhaps it was silly to be scared of a toddler, but Issy was anything if not temperamental, and trying to tell a toddler about change doesn’t always go well. How were they supposed to tell her that she was soon to be one of two children fighting for her parents' attention when a meltdown ensued every time they had to tell her that her favorite TV show wasn’t showing another episode today?

Needless to say, they let it simmer for a bit, pretending that they were going to come up with ways to discuss it with her but really putting it off even more. They decided to address it head-on; bite the bullet, if you will.

It happens over dinner one night. Strategically, Y/N suggests that they butter Issy up a little. Logan agrees, opting to cook her favorite food, pesto pasta (or green pasta, as Issy had affectionately dubbed it). They pour her a glass of strawberry milk to go with it—something that wouldn't usually be allowed at dinner, but today is a special occasion.

Issy doesn't catch on, or if she does, she doesn't mention it, munching and sipping her favorite foods happily. When she finishes eating, Logan leans over to wipe her face softly, allowing Y/N to open up the conversation.

“Issy?” Y/N looks for her attention. She perks up at the sound of her name, eyebrows knitting together curiously in a way that is so reminiscent of her father.

"Honey, Mommy and Daddy want to ask you about something,” Y/N continued. “Is that okay?”

Issy pursed her lips together as if she were thinking hard about the question before nodding as an answer. She crossed her small arms over her chest, looking at her parents expectantly.

Logan spoke up. “Issy, you ever think about being bigger?”

He swore under his breath—

that didn't make much sense. She seemed to somewhat understand, responding with a small "yeah.” He nodded in acknowledgment.

“How would you feel about being a big sister?” he asked cautiously.

She seemed to think for a second, her tiny finger coming up to her lip to ponder his question. “Like, have a baby sister?” she asked, her big eyes peering up at him, melting his heart.

“Yeah, honey, just like that," Y/N agreed quickly.

Issy’s lips broke out of her purse, pondering to smile widely. She clapped her hands together, repeating “Yes!” a few times over. He and Y/N sighed in relief; this had gone better than they thought it might.

“So, you're happy that you'll have a baby sibling soon?”

She perked up. “When?” she all but demanded the answer.

Logan reached around, pulling her out of her seat and up into his arms. “In a few months, okay?”

She only nodded in response. He called over his shoulder to Y/N, telling her that he would get Issy ready for bed. She called back in response, wishing him luck.

It was late when they finally got to go to bed together, resistant toddlers and dishes keeping them busy. They lay quietly in the dark; Y/N looked like she might fall asleep the moment her eyes shut closed.

He leaned over her gently; she smiled up at him through bleary eyes; he couldn't resist dipping down to kiss her, a soft but passionate kiss planted on her waiting lips.

“Today went good,” he stated after rolling back to lie next to her.

“Yeah,” she hummed.

“Better than we thought,” she added.

He smiled at her. “You know what?” he asked.

She nodded, encouraging him to respond.

“It made me excited,” he confessed.

“Me too,” Y/N agreed lowly.

He didn’t say anything in response, understanding that she had fallen asleep, breathing softly next to him. He moved closer to her, gently tucking a piece of hair behind her ear.

“I love you,” he whispered softly, allowing himself to fall further into her embrace. “I love you so much, baby.”

[rewh0re]

OMG WE'RE MATCHING!!

-headcanons of items that you'd match with each other hehe, very fluffy lol, short short short, this is my way of saying that I'd love to match with my babies. REBLOGS + INTERACTIONS ARE HIGHLY APPRECIATED!!

-pairings : reo, chigiri, isagi, rin x reader (separate)

╰►REO :

He'd definitely be the type to get a pair of matching rings. They're expensive too, probably from Tiffany and co. or some big brand like that. Reo would buy these gorgeous pair of diamond rings for couples which would make your eyes almost pop out of their sockets. You would chastise him for getting such an expensive item too but all he would say is that it's a sign of commitment. He'd get so confused when you would tell him that you can't wear it daily.

"What? Why?" Reo would ask, a tinge of hurt taking over him filling you with immense sadness.

"Baby these are expensive. I don't wanna lose them by mistake or have someone steal them," you would hold his hand in reassurance.

He'd find a way for that too. The very next day he gets two thin silver chains for the rings. That way you can wear it and have the ring on you daily without losing it!

╰► CHIGIRI :

I think you guys probably saw this coming but Chigiri would definitely get like these hair ties or scrunchies. He'd buy these sets of 2 and would give you one while the other stays with him. You bet he'd always wear the hair tie or scrunchie on his wrist without fail. He would never take it off and if he ever sees you without it, he'd probably frown a little bit asking where the hair tie was. You would also trade them. He would take yours and you would take his whenever you felt like it and he was always open to it. He probably doesn't like sharing his hair items but when it comes to you taking his hair tie, he'd gladly give it to you and take yours too. Oh he would also try out hairstyles on you and tie your hair with his gift. So sweet.

╰► ISAGI :

Isagi is a bracelet guy. He had bought this simple bracelet with an infinity charm for the both of you before joining blue lock as a parting gift. He would never take it off and neither would you because it was the only reminder you both had of each other. Coming out of blue lock, his popularity hit a surge. His strength as a footballer increased ten folds, he changed a lot overall. However, what still remained was the bracelet he'd got for the two of you. Seeing the little accessory, you knew he had and always would be your Isagi. Later, when he's even more popular, on covers of magazines as a star football player and a lot richer than he was years ago, he gets a more luxe bracelet. Don't get me wrong, he still wears the little infinity charm one but he gets the pair of you, two new golden bracelets with little embellishments of precious gems as you both are settling down. So now both of your wrists have not one but two bracelets as a sign of forever!

╰►RIN :

In his case, you would be the one getting something. Probably like a set of matching t-shirts, and I am talking about those t-shirts that had ‘I LOVE MY S/O’ or ‘IF FOUND PLEASE RETURN TO THEM’ ‘I AM THEM’ printed on them in bold. You had the most mischievous grin plastered on your face as he opened the packaging to find two absolutely hideous choices of garments (he would frame it like that, not me). However with a bit of whining and a little bit of bringing out your inner theatrics would finally lead him to wear the t-shirts. He would mostly wear it at home whenever you would wear your one. However, recent paparazzi pictures of him showed him wearing that specific t-shirt paired with some jeans and shades, a cup of coffee in his hand. When it reached you through the power of the internet, it sent you hollering. There were memes being posted every second and you lost no opportunity to troll your boyfriend. Rin would be so embarrassed but hey as long as you were entertained right?

[blasphemecel]

Michael Kaiser, Shidou Ryuusei — Red

PAIRING: Michael Kaiser/Reader, Shidou Ryuusei/Reader WORD COUNT: 1.5k TYPE: Humor, Bad Flirting, Petty argument WARNING(S): tw Kaiser, tw Shidou

Kaiser is maybe pissed off or developing chronic depression (or uncovering a long going, underlying mental health issue).

Well, not to be overdramatic, but his life has fucking sucked ever since he came to this wretched place they call ‘Blue Lock’!

More like stupid shit lock, but he wouldn’t be caught dead saying something this immature out loud. Yoichi scored one more goal than he did — an entire goal, one of it, in surplus that is — and made a fool of him. Now Kaiser is spiraling and wanting to prove himself like a loser, when he’s the one who’s supposed to make others feel this way.

What is happening right now, in front of his very eyes, is egregious torture. Cinnamon to sauté the pear of anguish in.

He went looking for you in an only slightly creepy stalkerish way, which he already wasn’t happy about, since he had to walk around this soulless building and see too much of it at once. And when he finally finds you in one of the few communal spaces (gross, by the way), what are you doing? Betraying him by talking to Sae’s pink pervert and laughing. Your audacity to have fun while Kaiser is suffering is insolent. Ness should give you a yellow card for that.

Even if it’s below him, Kaiser can prove himself, though, both on the field and when it comes to strange rivalries with questionable undertones. He is better and more deserving of all attention, including yours, and he’s going to show you. He’s going to show you so hard, you’ll regret your ignorance so much that you’ll drop out of here and go back to school or whatever the fuck.

With this objective in mind, he reminds himself to act natural and walks up to you. In fact, Kaiser is confident no one has acted this natural before.

“Hi,” he says in an unnecessarily firm tone, with the most forced smile of all time. Maybe he should’ve come up with something before interrupting your conversation, now that he thinks about it.

Your heads snap in his direction at the same time with a weird synchrony. “Hi,” Shidou mocks, imitating Kaiser’s expression, going as far as to suck in his lips to make it seem more exaggerated and stupid.

Somehow, this situation strikes you as awkward, so you settle for staring at him expectantly. He probably had a reason to approach you, right?

“How… are you… doing?” Kaiser asks, ignoring the bug in favor of swinging an arm around your shoulder and leaning in way too close to your face. This is mostly an action meant to distract you from how strange he is acting. The only language he is proficient in is shit talking, so now he finds himself at a loss for words.

Shidou, however, is adept at smelling weakness. Without thinking twice about it — pathologically impulsive — he pushes Kaiser off of you, and his grin grows menacing. Now he’s the one draping himself over you, and he looks at Kaiser, who seems a bit caught off guard all things considered.

“We,” Shidou points a finger at himself and then at you, maybe attempting to insinuate something, “were doing great! And then the double-rat-tailed wonder came in.”

The who?!

Kaiser maintains a cheerful facade. “I don’t know if you’re aware because you seem quite stupid, but the point of a nickname is to be short. At least my hairstyle obeys gravity.”

“Wow, hear that? No way you like ‘em uptight and snobby like this guy, babe.”

“Really? Because I would’ve thought the vulgar type who treats the plays leading up to scoring a point like edging doesn’t suit you at all. Right, darling?”

Babe? Darling? May God touch these people’s wretched souls.

“Aww, you remember that? You watched me? Good times. I’m getting so popular.” Shidou lets go of you, much to your surprise. Then he stretches like a cat and yawns, overdoing it just to illustrate his boredom with Kaiser’s presence. “Anyway, forget about gravity. Pink is much better than blue-”

“No, it isn’t,” Kaiser argues childishly, crossing his arms.

“-We all know it! And what do you have in your hair? Blue. And what do I have? Pink.”

“This is stupid. They’re just colors.”

“Someone’s mad he doesn’t have pink instead of blue.”

“What? You’re so dumb. You know it’s not natural, right? I made the choice to dye it blue. If I wanted pink, I would’ve-”

“‘You’re so dumb. You know it’s not natural, right?’” Shidou repeats in a snotty tone, then throws you a meaningful glance and snorts, waiting for you to join in on the bullying. Apparently mimicking Kaiser is something he’ll add to his list of things he considers funny from now on.

You wonder if either of them have noticed you’re yet to speak at all.

“Well, what about you?” On cue, Kaiser addresses you. Are you seeing things, or is his eye twitching? “You understand opinions about colors aren’t objective, don’t you?”

Shidou perks up. “What do you prefer? Pink or blue? You love pink, right?”

“No, I bet you’re just… obsessed with blue. I bet it’s all you can think about, along with football, of course.”

“But isn’t pink so much more energetic and wild and cool and lovable?” Shidou flutters his lashes and strikes a pose as if he’s trying to act coy but in a manner so overt, it becomes clear he’s not really trying to sell his performance.

Are they even talking about colors anymore?

You shrug, deciding to treat the situation like a game. “I haven’t decided yet. Convince me which one I should pick. Get me on board.”

“I have a car,” Kaiser blurts out. Is this the only positive quality he thinks he has when it comes to his personal life? You don’t know if you find it funny or sad.

“So what?” Shidou asks, unimpressed on your behalf. “I’ve always wanted to hijack a car.” Then he wraps his fingers around one of your shoulders, overcome with excitement all of a sudden. “Let’s go on a date when this is all over and hijack a car! We could hijack his car.”

“See, he’s psychotic.” There is an arrogant smile on Kaiser’s face again.

“You’re also kind of crazy,” you say.

“There are no positives to being with him if you think about it rationally,” continues Kaiser, like he didn’t hear you calling his sanity into question. “Even if you wanted to be a deranged criminal, he’d just get you caught. Me, personally, I could plan it all out with you.”

Scratch that, he’s an overly willing lunatic who’s shielding his emotional dysregulation by talking about logic. Like that’s ever worked for anyone.

“So what if I’m impulsive? There are positives to being with me, duh!”

“I doubt it.” Kaiser’s skepticism is palpable.

Shidou’s gaze returns to you, so he can look at you straight on while delivering his next line. “Well, I’d give you a really enthusiastic massage.” Oh, this is the route he’s taking. Ok. “Jitter up your neurons like you do mine.”

“Do you even know what a neuron is?”

“Even a foot massage?” you ask, amused.

“Sure, I can do a foot massage.” Shidou remains carefree at the suggestion.

“Do you know foot reflexology?”

“No, that’s so boring.” You frown, just for the sake of seeing his reaction more than anything. Shidou tries to amend the situation, “I can learn?!”

“You can’t let him massage you anywhere,” argues Kaiser, and he seems quite offended by the notion. “He’ll probably do it wrong and fuck you up because he’s a brute. You’re gonna get injured.”

“Well, can the blue rose princess do any better?”

“Stop calling me convoluted nicknames. And maybe not, but I could hire a massage therapist with a five star rating or something. How’s that sound?”

“You’re such a robot! You’d rather be with a brute than with a robot at the end of the day, right, babe? Team pink wins all day.”

“How am I a robot?”

Gleefully, Shidou expands on his point with his grin turning even more devious, “It’s not about giving a good massage! It’s all an excuse to be all over someone. And by the way, you don’t seem cuddly at all. I wouldn’t touch you with a ten foot pole.” His definition of ‘cuddly’ is probably questionable considering it includes Sae, but still.

“What! Yes, I am! Don’t talk about touching me, you moronic deviant!” Kaiser then deflates and seems a bit unsure despite the earlier conviction and aggression in his outburst. “I mean, if you think it’s an attractive quality, that is. But if you find it degrading, then I’m not huggable at all.”

Wow, they’re both suckers. You wonder how far you’ll be able to push it in the future?

[muxshwriting]

blessed to be

Violet Bridgerton x maid!reader

summary: as her maid, you can't help but grow close to the Bridgerton matriarch || word count: 1293 || masterlist

REQUESTED: can you please make a Violet Bridgerton x maid fanfic?? I'm literally so hungry for some Violet fanfics.

Violet Bridgerton needed a new lady’s maid. Her previous maid was getting married and would be released from the household to start her own with her new husband. Therefore, Violet was in need of a new lady’s maid to aid her, leaving the troublesome task to her loyal housekeeper.

A week later, Mrs Wilson approached the drawing room with a woman following behind her. "This is your new lady’s maid Ma’am." She announced.

The woman behind her lowered her head and offered a small smile. Violet returned her smile, introducing herself and learning your name. "I'm sure you'll do splendidly in this household. Mrs Wilson will tend to your needs and show you your duties."

"Yes Ma'am." You hesitated as you turned to leave. "Thank you."

As you settled into your duty, you couldn't help but be grateful for your fortunate position. Yes, you were a maid but you were a maid to one of the wealthiest families in the ton, a family that had (at least) a basic respect for their staff and took care of them. Most importantly, Violet cared. The matriarch would ask your opinion on fabrics and hairstyles and jewellery before deciding.

"What about the emeralds with this dress for Eloise?" Violet softly asked, holding a blush coloured dress.

You scrunched your eyebrows in concentration, weighing up the combination. "Perhaps something less colourful for Eloise? Something like crystal or quartz, perhaps white sapphires. She doesn't wish to stand out by wearing something like emeralds." You suggest, hurriedly adding the honorific at the end, "Ma'am."

Violet thinks for a second before nodding handing the dress back to you to hang up, reaching for a diamond necklace to compare. "I quite agree. Eloise will appreciate your concern." She paused for a moment, "I appreciate your concern."

"Just helping however I can Ma'am."

It was a quiet day where Violet was sitting in the drawing room with her embroidery, and had requested you to join her. You never had time to learn the special embroidery stitches, learning the basics to sew patches into clothing and fix tears. Instead, you carried a few napkins that had sprouted holes, working on them as Violet embroidered.

"Why did you never marry?" Violet began the conversation. The two of you had discussed the topic before, but not the why.

You stuttered out a response. "Having a husband never appealed to me Ma'am. I'm very fortunate that I don't have to marry. I got to focus on my studies, teaching all the local children how to read and write and calculate simple sums. It's not a brilliant education but it's something that quite a few children never get to learn."

Violet smiled. "Perhaps you could finally persuade Hyacinth that her education is important then."

"Nothing will change Miss Hyacinth's mind once she has set it. I'm sure the Governess you employ will do a brilliant job with her education." You laughed slightly. "Besides, I couldn't leave you to-" You cut yourself off, suddenly embarrassed at what you're saying.

Violet isn't bothered. Without looking up from her stitching, she silently reached over a hand to hold yours. Both of you ceased your work, enjoying the silence and comfort of each other's company.

"You're very dear to me Y/N." Violet said quietly, also seeming embarrassed at her own words. "You mean a great deal to the family as well." She was stumbling for the right words to say, dancing around the main subject.

"I feel very fondly of you to Violet." The woman lightly gasped as you said her name gently. You spoke her name, not her title, not ma'am, not mistress. You had called her Violet. Her reaction had you second guessing everything you had ever done as you bundled your napkins into your arms and stood, pulling your hand from hers. "My apologies Ma'am. I shall be in the servant quarters." Your eyes were trained to the ground, inspecting the dust on your shoes. "If you need me for anything, I am simply a call away."

You had just broken one of the biggest class rules of society. Never ever address a person of higher standing by their name. You show respect, you use their title or honorifics, never their name alone and certainly not their first name. By doing so, you were equivocating yourself with her family or her lover.

And you were not either of those things. You couldn't possibly be.

You kept your distance from Violet thereafter, performed your duties perfectly. You never spoke out of turn, offered your opinion only when it was asked for and didn't add any more detail than your mistress required. Violet had an tinge of pity in her eyes whenever she looked at you now and it made your blood boil. You did not need her pity, why was she offering you pity?

In her own mind, Violet was scheming. You thought you were in trouble, that you had overstepped. But Violet wished you would overstep more. She did not mind that you used her name, it stirred a feeling inside of her she had never experienced before, certainly not with another woman. She wanted that feeling to return.

The glowing, pulsing warmth that came when you used her name, when she held your hand. The shivers that tumbled down her spine and sizzled into darkness and dread when you had pulled away. She didn't know what was happening to her, she had never considered anything like this before.

Violet Bridgerton was a mother, she cared for her children above her own needs and desires, right? She had done so for over a decade. But what was stopping her from pursuing her own desires? Anthony was married, there was new Viscountess to herd the Bridgerton debutantes through the marriage mart. Violet could relax, she could breath.

Most importantly, she could chase that consuming feeling she felt when she was with you.

Violet had cornered you in her bedchambers after getting dressed, asking to speak with for a moment. You kept your head down, terrified that you would lose what you had started to cherish, this family and her.

"I don't know how to say what I want to say correctly." She began.

Your eyebrows furrowed as the conversation led down a vastly different path than what you had thought.

"But I cannot remain silent." She continued, taking a deep breath and wringing her hands together. "There is a feeling, deep in my chest, whenever I am with you. It is like a string pulling me towards you and filling my heart with warmth and love and-"

"The feeling like you cannot breath when they are not near. The world seems to slow and mysteries make sense..." You trail off with uncertainty after interrupting her, trying to help her find the words.

"Do you feel it?" Violet had taken a step toward you, her hands hovering by her side, begging to reach out and hold yours.

Silently, you indulge her, reaching forward and taking her hands in yours. Instantly, it's like there is a weight that had been lifted. "This feeling is why I could never marry." You whisper to her, sharing your secret. "There has never been a man to make me feel this way."

Violet sighed. "It was different with Edmund. He was my everything, possessing my every thought and corrupting my mind. He was the air that we breathed, when he- When he died, I locked that feeling away, never wanting to be hurt that way again. I continued to live for the sake of my children, teaching them that love is worth all the pain it might bring."

"I don't want to hurt you."

"You don't hurt me my dear." She confessed. "You heal me."

the request is finally here!!! I've got a few others in my inbox rn and I promise I'm getting to them. I just got back from a stunning cruise around the mediterranean so am just settling back into my work routine for the summer x

[just-ornstein]

WHAT THE FUCK IS THE BEAKER CASTLE EVEN - A SimPE Deep Dive

Alright, so after stumbling upon some of the Beta pics on the Russian TheSims.cc site and this analysis post about the Beaker mansion, I became deeply curious if some of this would be reflected in the lot relationships. After all, some characters like Viola, Kelly, on top of several others could be found when digging through the raw and somewhat encrypted code of lots.

By now it's pretty clear that the Beaker home once belonged to this dude and his army of girlfriends (definitely check out the post I mentioned earlier). On top of that Loki (and possibly Circe) seems to have gone through at least two iterations before eventually settling on their final forms.

And on top of that whenever you scan the mansion in a completely new game, you will find fingerprints of primarily deceased Sims everywhere!

Now to get to the Sim relationships on the lot...

712 freaking Sim Relationships, all of which are unknown. Some of which still have stats set such as married, friends, relationship scores, etc. I tried comparing this to other lots in their neighborhood and NONE even come close. Both Olive and the Smiths have around 400. The other lots have below. And the only lots that are even a tad higher in this number are the Capps and the Summerdreams which makes sense when you realise that hood went through at least one other iteration before turning into Veronaville.

Now I wondered if the encrypted code (despite being very hard to read due to being partially encrypted) had any old Sim remnants left in there. And yep, several even. Many of which even have information such as their gender, hair, clothes and age in there. So lemme go over some of them:

1. First one, a guy who's name is partially encrypted so it will never fully be visible. It's not Johnny cause Johnny also has his character file on this lot.

A male teen with brown hair who used to wear the "tmbodyhoodedsweatshirtboardshorts" + the "tmhairhatcap" hairstyle.

2. Second is another teen, this time by the name of Zeeshan. He had black hair, the bucket hat hairstyle and wore the hooded sweatshirt, except with pants this time around (and grey apparently?).

3. The third was an adult male Sim by the name of Kenneth with black hair. Based on his info he was likely meant to be a Gardener Sim.

4. The fourth was one named Kana... Possibly a longer name cause once again the code becomes a bit shambled here. She too was meant to be a Gardener as seen by her outfit and hair data. Her hair would have been brown.

5. Elle, another female Gardener Sim, this one having red hair.

6. Vasyl, an adult male Sim who wore the busdriver outfit. Sadly his hair data seems to be blocked behind the code. For funsies I like to give the name to Bald Beta Loki, since he gives off that vibe. BUT, I think this was an NPC busdriver due to the outfit.

7. Joanne, an adult female Sim with an unknown hair colour in corn rows style and the classy afbodyjacketturtlesweaterdressboots. Sadly her ID is hidden behind the encrypted code, so it's hard to fully make out.

All of these Sims appear to be NPC/Townie Sims. None of them match ANYONE in the Beta pictures. And the current Townies/NPCs seem to have replaced them. Interestingly enough, those that were NPCs are still NPCs and those that were Townies are still Townies. Making me wonder if this is a thing that translates to other Sim IDs too. That Sims that were Townies in earlier iterations are still Townies in their new form. Same for NPCs and yep, Playables. This is merely an assumption I'm making on what I'm finding here, but if anyone can help research this further, that would be greatly appreciated, especially as this could mean the Viola ID may not belong to Viola Monty.

Viola is an odd case cause no outfit, hair or other data can be found in the lot file and she's only ever mentioned once in the context of lines filled with "sleep in pyjamas". But for now I cannot say anything with certainty unless more remnants of these old Sims could be found somewhere. OR, if these files could be read in its entirety which is quite difficult.

It's very hard to get a Sim ID attached to a lot (believe me I tried) and often times seems to rather happen accidentally than intentionally. Moving a Sim out or having a Sim die usually removes the data they once held to that lot. Good example is Loki in my current Strangetown who lived on this lot all of his life and when he died he had no remnants left on this lot.

REGARDLESS! The Beaker lot is ancient and seems to have been ground for a ton of testing, Sims and many more things. No wonder the Beakers got this home with its incredibly shady history. Half of the beta town was partying here!

[sleep-drunk-kitten]

𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐲 𝐧𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐝𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐢𝐞𝐬 | 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐧𝐞

pairing: enhypen x fem!reader, platonic!Sunoo, ft. Lee Felix and Han Jisung of Stray Kids and Choi Soobin of TXT as side characters

genre: crack, fluff, isekai!au, royalty!au

content warnings: the crown prince is a bit of a jerk, war and an absent father are mentioned in passing, other than that there's nothing I can really think of? but lmk if I missed anything!

word count: 3.9k

summary: upon meeting her betrothed and possible murderer for the first time... our protagonist finds herself sure of two things: 1) he's every bit the princely male lead of the novel she'd loved so much in her previous life and 2) he's actually a little insufferable.

notes: It's finally hereeeee!! I'm so sorry for making you all wait for this, but I'm slowly working my way out of that writing slump~ I'm not sure whether or not I like how this turned out, but I hope you guys can just overlook it and move on if it sucks 😭 (please, for my sake, do. I will literally cry if my anxiety's proven right rn-)

I will be making a taglist for this fic, so if you're interested in being added please either drop an ask or let me know in the comments

Everything after the cut IS proofread for once, but please feel free to let me know if any typos slipped through the cracks!

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“Nonono, the blue one was a million times better,” Sunoo said, pointedly ignoring the deathly glares of Felix, your head maid.

  “Maybe it would be if I were going out for an evening ball or something, but it's a bit much for seeing a guest over some tea,” you reply dismissively, inspecting the girl standing in the three large mirrors placed round the circular platform you’d been standing on for the past hour, shifting uncomfortably from one foot to another as your maids brought dress after dress out from your closet and whisked you through trying them on one by one. 

  Sunoo rolled his eyes at the statement, marching towards your vanity and sifting through the jewelry scattered across it till he settled on a length of thin silk ribbons. “Babes, be real with me here, it's not just some tea party and you know it.”

  The three maids who'd been helping you into the layers of lace and silk that made up the soft buttercup yellow gown Felix had chosen stepped to the side to give Sunoo room on the platform behind you, having learned very early on that there was little to no point in trying to stop him. 

  Ribbon in hand, he began weaving the silky material through the hairstyle they'd arranged as neatly and prettily as possible, ignoring a pained noise from the one nearest him. “I mean, it's not every day your fiance comes all the way out to your family’s manor on the outskirts of the city to make sure the bride-to-be he doesn’t actually care about hasn't lost all her marbles.” 

  You didn’t understand how Sunoo managed to carry on chattering with their eyes boring holes into the back of his head, especially when their dirty looks were nothing compared to the expression on Felix’s face–his twitching left eye reminded you of a glitching video game character–but he did, carrying on as if it were just the two of you in the room.

  “Your Grace,” Felix’s voice was strained, “I really do wish you wouldn't say such things to her Highness.”

  “What? That her beloved fiance's come to see her?” Sunoo said, batting his eyes and pouting in mock innocence.

  “That’s not what I meant and you know it,” Felix snapped back, eyes darting between his face and the silk in his hands. 

  “You know she doesn’t really care, right? Why would she care about that cold-hearted stone-faced bas-”

  “Sunoo!” you gasped, cutting him off by stomping on one of his fluffy house slippers with the toe of the wildly uncomfortable heel that had been forced onto your foot. You swear you see the corner of Felix’s lip twitch at the strangled noise your best friend makes. 

  “Ow ?! That was uncalled for- what’s with the look? Is anything I’m saying wrong?”

  “No, but you still shouldn’t be talking that way about a member of the royal family,” you reply with irritation, “you not liking him doesn’t take away from the fact that he’s the fucking prince now does it?”

  In your peripheral, the three maids shift uncomfortably, and Felix doesn’t even try to hide a long-suffering sigh, making a mental note to inform your tutor that your etiquette lessons still weren’t sticking the way they should. 

  Sunoo sees this, of course–grinning evilly at you. “It would seem that it doesn’t change the fact that you’re a princess either, Your Highness, better wash out that potty mouth of yours before your dearly betrothed arrives.”

  You nearly grab a handful of your skirts to give yourself enough mobility to kick him, but Felix launches himself in your direction before you have the chance, shoving Sunoo rather unceremoniously to one side and holding your wrists under the guise of guiding you off the platform. 

  “An excellent idea Your Grace, but I fear we have neither the time nor the soap for such an endeavor as m’lady’s presence is needed in the garden.”

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  It really was a scene straight from one of your romance manhwas; a neatly laid tea table under a pearly white gazebo, your gloved hand wrapped delicately round the gilded handle of a steaming cup of tea–the picture of perfection in your soft yellow dress that matched the white and yellow roses blooming in the bushes surrounding you perfectly. 

They filled the cool morning breeze with their sweet perfume, sending ripples across the clear blue lake so it glittered in the morning sun.

  It was beautiful.

  So beautiful. 

  And yet it still didn’t quite compare to the man sitting accross from you. 

  You’d read his description countless times. Everything from the plush curve of his lips to the sharp intensity held in his dark eyes… yet nothing could have prepared your heart for the sound of his laughter, carried to you over the foliage, the sight of those lips spread in an easy smile as he chatted with your brother, shoulders shaking with mirth.

  Nor, you think, could anything have braced you for the chill that would run down your spine when his smile dropped the second Soobin said his goodbyes, worriedly whispering a plea for you to ‘behave yourself’ as he kissed your cheek and left the two of you alone. Your chest constricting almost painfully when those same dark eyes that you’d squealed and giggled over late at night fixed on you, void of any emotion. 

  He'd stood from his place at the table to greet you, bowing formally in reply to the curtsy your poor tutor had drilled into your bones. 

  “(y/n).”

  “Your highness.”

  “You look to be in good health.”

  “I am, the family doctor and my handmaids have tended to me with so much care since the incident, recovering well is the very least I could do.”

  An awkward pause.

  “You seem to be in good health too, Your Highness.”

  You could’ve kicked yourself when the prince simply nodded and thanked you in return–a flash of something like recognition passing behind his eyes–before they went back to that easy, indifferent facade you supposed was crafted especially for Princess (y/n). ‘which makes sense,’ you mentally deadpan, ‘she was about as close to a crazy yandere psycho as you could get without actually killing anyone.’ 

  Still, those simple pleasantries, taken straight from the pages of volume two of your etiquette lessons, were the only words exchanged in greeting.

  It made even the silvery morning breeze feel stifling.

  Ever the gentleman, the prince pulled out your chair, made sure you were comfortable, and nodded once to your guard. “All is well with the knights of the (l/n) estate, Han?”

  The effort it took to refrain from snapping your head up and giving them both a confused once-over was monumental. It hadn't occurred to you that the crown prince would be familiar with any of your personal guards, though you supposed it made sense. Most of them had, according to Felix, been looking after you since you were only nine or ten, of course they'd be on friendly terms with your fiance.

  “We've been keeping busy, Your Highness,” Han said, and you could almost hear the smile in his voice. Knowing him, he was probably rocking back and forth on his heels, hands clasped behind his back. 

  “That's good to hear,” the prince nodded, settling into the seat across from you, “I fear the royal knights have grown rather complacent since the relief and revelry that followed the war, it has been a task for General Jeong to whip them back into shape.” 

  “I can imagine,” Han chuckled. “But really, who could blame them, it’s taken us a long time to reach this peace, what good would it be if we didn’t take at least a moment here or there to enjoy it? As it is, I doubt we would have stayed so diligent if it weren’t for Her Grace, (y/n)’s been coming down to the training grounds and asking us to teach her some basic swordsmanship of late.” 

  While Han was probably puffing up his chest and beaming proudly over at the prince, thrilled to share the good news that you were finally taking your swordsmanship and safety more seriously, you were trying to avoid choking on air. 

  There were many things that you didn’t know about Princess (y/n) (l/n)–daughter of an esteemed archmage and revered general–but one of the things that had been emphasised enough in the novel enough for it to stick firmly in your mind was this: she was a frivolous, selfish, bitter disappointment to her bloodline. Squandering the skills she’d inherited from her mother to brew potions that only served her own selfish needs, and refusing to entertain the possibility that she could possibly take after the father she loathed for abandoning her to fight in the war . 

  She would never willingly break a sweat. 

  Especially for the sake of swinging around a big heavy old sword. 

  And it seemed the prince was thinking the same thing, his next words directed at you. “I didn’t know you’d developed an interest in adopting such strenuous hobbies.”

  “I… I suppose almost dying will do that to you.”

  “Indeed…” 

  There was a brief pause, in which the prince looked like he was contemplating the milky way while stirring a cube of sugar into his tea. Setting your nerves on edge as you wondered if now was a good time to bring up wanting to end your engagement, or if you should try and “ease into the subject more naturally” as your tutor had told you with his head in his hands, tears of frustration pricking at the corners of his eyes after witnessing just how “abrupt” your manner of speaking was.  

  You were still turning the words over in your mind when his voice cut through your thoughts, crisp and clipped despite the concern you guessed the inquiry was meant to show. “I was told that you were caught in a storm.” 

  “I was,” you nod with a bit too much enthusiasm, relieved to finally have an excuse to fill the silence. “I was told that I was on my way back from visiting a cousin who happened to be staying in town when a sudden storm hit us and knocked my carriage into a ravine-”

  “You were ‘told’ that you were on your way back from visiting a cousin? That fact doesn’t come from your own memory?”

  You blink, caught off guard by his interruption. ‘Isn’t that rude? Is he allowed to be rude because he’s a prince or because he’s my fiance? But wait he shouldn’t be rude either way? Ah screw it, being mad won’t help my case anyway so…’ 

  “Yes, I believe His Grace mentioned in his letter to the palace that the event and the fever that followed seems to have caused a condition the doctors refer to as temporary amnesia, my memories are only there in bits and pieces.”

  “Is this memory loss permanent?” 

  “No, we suspect I’ll start remembering things  little by little, a few are already coming back to me,” you say, one hand gripping the material of your skirt in an attempt to keep your voice pleasant and calm.

Sure, the prince didn’t like the princess much, but that didn’t mean he had to be a prick about it, he could afford to be nicer when he was asking questions about her literally forgetting her entire identity. If you didn’t know how awful she’d be a few years down the road, you would’ve found him insufferable. 

  “I see…” he said, still slowly stirring his tea.

  “What exactly do you see, Your Highness,” you smile a little tersely, bringing your own cup up to your lips, praying that the lipstick your maids had chosen was transfer-proof. 

  The prince raised an eyebrow at you, apparently picking up on the shift in your tone.  “Nothing… I’m simply intrigued by your sudden change in character, and the rather dramatic event that you claim caused it.” 

  It takes you a moment to process his words, and a moment more for agitation to prickle under your skin. ‘The fudge muffin does he mean claim?? I fell off a hill??? Hannie carried me back??? I was out of my mind for a week???’

  Reminding yourself over and over again that in his mind he was talking to someone who definitely wasn’t you, you press your lips into one of the polite, plastic smiles Sunoo had been practicing with you. “I apologise for not hitting my head on something less dramatic… I’ll be sure to aim for the carriage windows instead of massive tree branches if it would be more convenient for you… Your Highness.” 

  “What would have been more convenient for me, and all parties involved, would be your learning to heed warnings, and refrain from traipsing off into town when you know that the sky bodes ill,” he replied smoothly, ignoring the agitation in your voice. 

  “I’ll do my best to remember that then, Your Highness,” you say through gritted teeth, taking a fortifying sip of your rich floral tea, immediately wondering how the prince could possibly drink something so naturally sweet with even more sugar. 

  Your answer seemed to surprise him, another flash of… something crossing his features before it vanished just as quickly as the one before. 

  “Very well,” he nodded, bringing the sugary concoction he’d like to call tea to his lips, distracting you slightly with the way his adam’s apple bobbed as he drank. 

  ‘Oh he hates my guts but dear mother of cheesy romance he’s definitely this world’s male lead…’ you mused, shaking your head slightly to get yourself back on track. You were annoyed. Very annoyed. And the source of that annoyance was speaking to you again. 

  “I came here today to confirm for myself that you have indeed recovered fully, now that I’ve made sure of that there really is no reason for me to linger longer than necessary,” he said, setting down his cup with such practiced ease that it barely made a sound.

  Alarm buzzed under your skin, causing you set your own cup down with much less grace than intended, a sharp clinking noise ringing through the empty gardens. “I- oh shoot- Your Highness there’s actually something I need to discuss with you before-”

  “If it concerns the steadily growing pile of invitations and inquiries piling up on your writing desk we needn’t bother with any discussion,”  he said, cutting you off without missing a beat, already signalling to the guards–who’d moved away at some point to offer you both more privacy–indicating that he intended to stand and leave. "As long as you stick to the promise you just made to listen to your guards and His Grace, you’re allowed to attend and host as many gatherings as your heart desires, just know that I will not be able to accept any invitations, I am a busy man-”

  “Your Highness,” you all but snapped, lips pursed into a thin line, as if sealing them together would stop the flurry of expletives in your mouth from rolling off your tongue.

  “(y/n),” he said mildly, raising an eyebrow.

  “That is not what I wanted to discuss, but while we’re here, why the hell would I need your permission to attend any kind of gathering?”

  The prince blinked blankly, holding up a hand to signal both his and your guards to wait. “What are you on about (y/n)? You’re my fiance.”

  “Yes, exactly, fiance, and by arrangement, not by choice.”

  “I can’t say I follow your meaning, both these things are well established.”

  You swore your eyes nearly popped out of your skull with the effort it took not to roll them. “If I were your wife, or your partner by choice I would, to a certain degree, understand if you wanted me to give you a heads up before I go out-”

  “A head?...”

  “But I’m not, and at this rate I’m really not sure I want to be, I’m an individual totally separate from you, these are my decisions to make, you have no right to dictate my comings and goings… Your Highness.”

  The Prince went silent, watching you steadily, his calm an aggravating contrast to the tense knot of anger and anxiety lodged in your throat. ‘Oh… oh… I’m so sorry Mr. Park…’ you whisper a silent apology in your head and offer a few prayers for your tutor and the vein in his forehead’s good health.

  “What exactly do you mean by ‘at this rate I’m really not sure I want to be’, Princess.”

  The chill that runs down your spine when he uses your title instead of your name is immediate, your hands going slightly numb in the silken confines of your gloves.

“I mean that… that I don’t want to marry a complete stranger,” you manage, fumbling through whatever you could salvage from the script you and Sunoo had prepared. 

  “Is that what you'd call someone you’ve known since childhood?” he scoffed, the annoyance creasing his brows the most feeling he’d shown in response to you since his arrival. 

  “Well from the way you’ve spoken to me till now I can’t exactly consider you a friend now can I?” you seethe, regretting it almost instantly when his expression twists into something almost like hurt. You’re not sure why he made that face, but in a moment it’s gone, and no matter how it made you feel, you have a goal here. Not. Dying. 

  Which probably meant that pissing off the crown prince wasn’t the best idea. But oh well. 

  “I have no memory of you, Your Highness, as far as my mind is concerned, today is our first meeting… and from what I can see, the boy who’s meant to be my future husband sees me as either an object or a nuisance… I was hoping that meeting you would ease my mind about this whole engagement thing, but I’m sure now. I don’t want this.”

  The prince stared at you for a few moments, expression unreadable, and you guess that–aside from what you hope looks like defience and resolve–you look much the same. 

  When the world finally clicks back into motion, he nods once. “You do know that dissolving this agreement between our families is not something to be taken lightly? While our parents cannot force us into marriage, they will still try to convince us of our obligations.” 

  He looked up then, and something in his expression was different. It was still indifferent and unreadable as it had been, but there was a softness to it that you couldn’t quite place. It was confusing. “I understand, I know it won’t be easy, but this is my wish,” you say, relaxing slightly in your own seat. 

  “If that is what you want… I will speak to my father once things have settled down within the palace… I jest about the knights and their complacency, but the air is less than still, war is a messy business, and cleaning up the aftermath will take some time.”

  “I can wait… till next spring, but you must have asked him by then.”

  “I will,” he nods, “and I’ll write to you once it is done so you may speak with His Grace as well.”

  “Thank you… it’s appreciated…”

  You stay like that for a beat longer, staring at each other from across an intricately laid tea table, each of you wondering what the other must be thinking.

  “If that is all… I shall take my leave,” he says, breaking the odd trance. Standing, waves your guards over, and you take that as your cue to stand and curtsy as well. 

  “It was a pleasure meeting you, Your Highness, the (l/n) family thanks you for your time.” 

  “Likewise,” he says, bowing. 

  Han and two other knights make their way over, wearing slightly troubled expressions, you guess they must’ve heard more than they were meant to. But it doesn’t matter, you think, eventually the news of the broken engagement would be the talk of the town, you shouldn’t be embarrassed about a few knights getting a preview. 

  “Before I go,” the prince says, “you should know that you never needed my permission for anything, (y/n). You may come and go as you please, you are an individual capable of thought and making her own decisions, as you say. However you must understand that to the public eye, you are the future crown princess, and that is not something to be taken lightly. It is my duty to do what I can to protect the royal family’s image, and having my fiance attend tea parties and balls when she is not in her right mind would have been foolish, to say the least.”

  He’s being earnest, you realise. Apologising in his own roundabout way. Maybe. Whatever it is, you choose to take it, knowing that beneath whatever dislike he may hold for the former princess, Park Jongseong was a good person. 

  “I… I’ll remember that in future…” you murmur.

  “Good… and one last thing.”

  “By all means.”

  “I know now that you have no memory of me, but you should know that you’ve never called me by my title.”

  “Oh?” to your memory, the princess had never called him anything but his title, he wouldn’t allow it. “Did I… call you by your given name?” 

  For the first time, he smiles at you, and you curse your heart for the way it flutters in your chest. “No, I don’t expect you to use it if it brings you discomfort, but the nickname you gave me when we were six was ‘Jay’, because you said I resembled a bird by the same name.”

  “A Blue jay?”

  “Yes, my hair was lighter then.”

  That confuses you slightly, his hair is black, as far as you can tell, but you ignore it, choosing to smile politely and nod along. “It must have been a very handsome bird.”

  “It was rather ugly, actually,” he says, walking down the gazebo steps to join his guards. “I bid you farewell, Princess, the royal family thanks you for your time.”

  “Likewise,” you respond, watching him as he goes. Noting with a hint of amusement that his hair shines blue in the now bright morning sun. 

  “What was all that about?” a voice says, and, predictably, Sunoo appears from one of the side paths. 

  “Were you listening the whole time?” 

  “Well I tried, but the fountain was too loud, only caught some yelling.”

  “Some guard you are,” you whine, smacking Han on the arm as he joins the two of you, “did you even realise a sneaky little rat was eavesdropping? 

  “Ow! For your information I did, but I figured there was no point chasing him round the gardens when I knew you’d be inviting that rat to tea anyways.”

  “That is very true,” you sigh, grabbing a plate and settling yourself across from Sunoo–who already had a mint chocolate chip cookie stuffed in his mouth. 

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  “(y/n)! Forget soap we’re gonna need bleach for that mouth tonight,” Sunoo cries, doubled over in a fit of giggles.

  “I knowwww,” you groan, massaging your temples. “Mr. Park’s gonna kill me.”

  Sunoo shakes his head. “You make the poor guy sound like an old man, you do realise he’s only our senior by about two years, right?”

  “He’s still my tutor! I’m trying to show some respect, as a thank you for how patient he is with my dumb ass.”

  “He deserves a raise,” Han chips in, settled on the marble gazebo rails with a plate of cheesecake in hand. 

  “He doessss,” Sunoo agrees, waving a teaspoon for emphasis.

  “You’re all really mean y’know,” you sigh, slumping over the table and grabbing one of Sunoo’s hands and moving it into the shape of a rabbit.

  “Not as mean as Sunghoon’s about to be when he sees your posture,” Sunoo says. 

  “What do you mea- Oh! Good morning Professor Park!”

[thedoctorisgroovy]

Schooled - Chapter 3

Chapter 1 Chapter 2

» Pairing: Spencer Reid x BAU!Reader

» Word count: 1640

» Warnings/Tags: bad relationship with family, unsupportive family, feelings of failure, Spencer being cute and protective.

» A/N: Final chapter of backstory I promise! Thank you for the support on the first two chapters, now that I have an outline I think this will be around 8-10 chapters to complete. I really enjoyed writing the team this way, they really are a family and it's adorable.

Taglist: @esposadomd, @gghostwriter

Until you sat down on the jet, you didn’t realise that your brain hadn’t stopped from the moment you left the briefing room. Settling into a seat next to Spencer and opposite Emily, you let out a big sigh and leaned your head on Spencers’ shoulder. He shuffled in his seat next to you to put his arm around you and pull you closer for maximum comfort. From across the aisle Emily gave you a gentle smile. You half expected Spencer to press you for “that chat” now that you were sat down but he also respected your feelings and knew you’d explain when you were ready to.

The air in the jet was different this time. You’d travelled on this plane hundreds of times and everyone was usually just in focus mode. Heads buried in case files, studying every aspect before landing to make sure you were all fully prepared. This time however, the rest of team were laughing and joking. Reminiscing on their own personal high school memories, eliciting groans when certain hairstyle choices were brought up or dating horror stories or the fact that Prentiss used to be a goth. You closed you eyes and listened absent-mindedly to the banter happening a few feet away from you. It felt strange to be relaxed at a time like this. You were heading to a disappearance/kidnap/potential homicide and yet it was like you were all heading on vacation. You wondered if this new energy was a slight farce planned by everyone to keep your anxiety at bay, but currently you didn’t care. It was nice to hear laughter for once in this line of work. You would've bet that with your eyes closed, you could tell that even Hotch was smiling.

“So Hotch, how come Reid got picked to be the teacher?” Morgan asked, a slight pang of jealousy in his tone.

“Because he’s a genius.” JJ retorted. You felt Spencer tense at the moniker. You didn’t have to open your eyes to know he was rolling his right now. He’d once confided in you that being called a genius made him uncomfortable. When he first joined the BAU, he revelled in it. He loved being the youngest, the smartest and being trusted to do the job he does based on his intellect. He felt it gave him a sense of importance and authority. Agent Gideon, his previous boss used to introduce him as “Doctor” on purpose to make sure others respected him despite his age. But after 5 years, he didn’t want the identifier anymore. After the things he’d seen, the things he’d been through and the cases he’d solved for the bureau, he felt he’d earned his place based on merit and hard work. He wasn’t desperate to fit in and be respected any more, he just did and was. You decided to open your eyes and watch how this was going to play out.

“And? You don’t need to be a genius to teach high school.” Morgan rebuffed defensively.

“Okay tough guy, explain Pythagoras to me right now then.” Prentiss scoffed at him. Morgan adjusted himself in his seat, sitting up slightly, taking the situation very seriously. He looked around nervously at all the eyes on his, awaiting his explanation.

“Yeah alright, it’s that E=Mc squared thing right?” Morgan mumbled slight, his bravado trying to compensate for what he didn’t know. The jet was full of people trying to stifle their laughs, not wanting to be to mean to Morgan, he had tried after all. JJ hit his shoulder playfully, the mistake and embarrassment dawning on his face before clearing his throat to try and save face.

“Okay so maybe I don’t know Math, but I’d still take any of you in an arm wrestle.” - Morgan booed, holding his hands up in mock surrender. Spencer had bolted upright in his seat, bouncing his knee waiting his for turn to speak. Any chance to explain something made him so excited. You looked up at him and saw the sparkle in his eyes that you absolutely adored.

“Pythagoras is the theory that when dealing with a right angled triangle, the area of the square whose side is the hypotenuse is equal to the sum of the areas of the squares on the other two sides. "A squared + B squared = C squared" is the equation you were trying to think of. We shouldn’t really call it a theory anymore in my opinion because it’s been proved many times. An interesting fact about Euclidean geometry is that it uses a Cartesian coordinate system…” God you loved this man.

“Okay kid, we get it, you’re the right one for the job.” You scowled slightly at Morgan for cutting Spencer off, you loved his facts and trivia, it was one of the few times you knew he was relaxed and right now that’s all you wanted for him. Spencer sat back in his chair, and you repositioned yourself on his shoulder giving his arm a small squeeze to show you cared about what he was saying.

“Reid is the most experienced, he’s taught at the university before and knows a lot of information about a lot of subjects, simple as that.” - Hotch asserted.

“Can’t believe you’re jealous that they both have to go back to highschool” Emily teased. Morgan just blew her off with a wave of his hand, clearly done with the conversation. You tapped Spencer’s arm lightly and he hummed in response. You turned your body into his slightly and looked at up his kind eyes. Emily realised this was about to be a private conversation by the way you’d made your own little bubble and tried to look anywhere but at you two, much to your gratitude. You knew you’d still likely be heard - it was a small jet after all - but you still appreciated the gesture. Taking a big breath, you locked your fingers with Spencers’ and thought carefully about your words.

“I’m sorry I worried you back at Quantico, I was just in shock about my home being in danger. I realised it’s more than that though.” Your eyes dropped from his face, looking down into your lap, watching the way your fingers fidgeted nervously with his, an anxious habit you’d picked up a while ago.

“Spencer I feel like a failure.” You said in the smallest voice possible, admitting it felt like the most vulnerable secret in the world.

“My family and I, we don’t exactly have the best relationship. In my town, people don’t really do much after highschool. When I told my parents that I wanted to leave and join the FBI they acted like I was crazy, they thought that I thought that I was better than everyone else. They think I’m pretentious, all high and mighty. They’ve never once told me they’re proud of what I do, and even though I’m coming back now to try and save lives, it feels like it doesn’t matter.” Tears start welling your eyes, you don’t want to cry - not here, not now - but the dam is close to breaking. Spencer lifts one of his hand to your chin, tilting your head back up to meet his eyes. Those eyes. So full of kindness, compassion and understanding. He presses a small kiss to your forehead before speaking,

“Listen to me, you are not a failure. I know they’re your family but they’re idiots. I’m sorry but they are. Actually, I’m not sorry, because anyone who can’t see how smart and incredible you are deserves to be insulted. You’re not returning because you did anything wrong, or because you couldn’t cope. You’re returning with the best criminal analyst team within the FBI, that’s so small and exclusive you have to be brilliant to work for. You don’t need to prove anything to anyone and if your parents say anything when we meet them, I have no problem defending you.” And with that, he pulled you into him, his long limbs enveloping every part of your body. You laugh/cried softly against his chest. You knew he meant that last part - you’d seen him be sassy and assertive with cops and other FBI members, he certainly wasn’t going to be afraid of your parents. It was Hotch who broke the moment between you two.

“I’m sorry to eavesdrop, but I’m afraid you won’t be able to see your family. We can’t risk anyone recognising you or giving away your identity. We know there’s already risk of that since it’s only been a few years since you’ve been around but seeing your family would give away the connection straight away. As soon as we land, you and Reid will be going separate ways.” You felt Reid’s grip tighten on you, pre-emptively holding onto you.

“Agents’ Prentiss, Morgan, JJ and myself will be heading straight to the station to meet with the local PD. If this unsub sees us arriving it might cause him to get nervous and slip up, meaning we can catch him sooner. We’ll be able to stay in contact with you both through calls and emails but we can’t be seen physically together, I’m sorry. Garcia will send you your accommodation details when we land.” And with that, the jet become reminiscent of how it always is before a case, quiet and contemplative.

Hearing that you’d be able to stay in touch provided minimal comfort to the pounding heart in your chest. The remaining time on the flight was spent nestled into Spencers’ side, trying to calm your thoughts. You were used to going into the field alone sometimes but never like this. “At least you’d see him at school everyday” you thought chuckling internally.

All that was left to do was to await the call from Penelope at touchdown.

Chapter 4

[machiten]

thats my seat!

academic rival scaramouche x gn!reader headcanons

warnings: scaramouche(bro is a whole warning), foul language(it's scaramouche we're talking about here so), reader is mentioned to have bad eyesight, fights, angst, academic validation, bad parenting

barely proofread lmao im tired, it's 3:15 am and im starving. there will be a chapter 2 ofc i just wanted to post something goddamn my blog has been empty for so long (4 days) didn't have a way to keep track of the word count but it's kinda long. anyways hope u enjoy!!

oh god

when i say rival, i mean full on brawls on the school hallway

so let's say you've been top of your school since day one. your name has always been at the top of the score board every exam, always class representative, and well known as a smart kid ever since you steped on school premises.

you work hard to keep your grades up, your parents pay enough attention to your succesful brother and none for you

having a successful brother plants high expectations on you. i mean, he did very well, so why cant you? you both have the same blood running through your veins. your parent's praise, that is all you've ever wanted. and yet you're not even informed if there's a family outing, leaving you in your house alone

it has been like that for years

not until one day, you enter into the classroom and someone else is sitting in your chair. someone unfamiliar is sitting on your chair.

"hey, excuse me. i sit there." you pointed at what is supposed to be, your chair. "what, i dont see any names on it." Ok, what. when you finally look up to the culprit, my goodness. Fierce purple eyes that looks like it holds the entire universe, his skin as fair as a maiden, lips plum as a springs fruit, a beauty mark at the underside of his right eye, and his hair a unique color of indigo that is cut in a weird jellyfish-ish hairstyle. while yes, he looks ethereal, not gonna lie (if he had longer hair you might've mistaken him as a girl) his personality certainly does not match his elegance. an annoyed look currently adorned his face, as if you disturbed his peace.

"done checking me out? i know im hot, i get that look everyday so dont ever think you're special." and now it changed into a cocky smirk. the nerve! not only is he sitting on someone else's chair but it seems like his head is getting bigger too. "well excuse me, i havent seen your around school until today so im guessing that you're the transfer student our teacher talked about last week. but do you mind finding a new spot, i sit there." you glared at him.

"no i like it here. here's a better idea, why don't you find a new spot. im the new student here, show some courtesy."

"no- what, go away thats my seat!"

"alright everyone, settle down- oh, i see that the new student is here already," the teacher finally came in the classroom, cup of steaming hot coffee in his hand. Everyone sat down on their seats while you are still standing up waiting for this person to look for another seat. Lmao guess what, he didnt move.

"(name), c'mon sit down. i know getting a new friend is exiting but we have to greet the new student properly. now go find your seat."

"wait but sir--"

"sit down, (name)"

"yeah that's right (name), sit down" a voice beside you spoke. you looked over to the new student adorning a triumphant grin at your loss. and so you are now forced to sit at the back, barely seeing what's in front because of your poor eyesight, and wearing a vengeful spirit.

epic first meeting

the seats in the back are okay, its breezy and you now sit next to xiao (his music taste is so good) but yeah, you cant really see the board clearly so you get notes from mona at the front

at first, it was a one sided rivalry. how hated how rude and bratty he was and at that time, he didnt seem too care (like he get those everyday). but then he started fighting back and oh boy he hasn't had this much fun in years!

the way you retort back to his harsh words is so amusing to him. usually, no one would dare talk to him in a degrading manner but then you came into his life, claiming that he's sitting on your chair, and it was never the same ever again.

now, he looks forward to everyday. he rises up earlier so that he can sit at your chair first, he keeps looking at the classroom door everytime someone enters (in case it's you so that he can give that shit eating grin), he loves how your face gets messed up when he wins an argument, he loves how small your hands are compared to his when you have a brawl in the hallways, and most of all, he loves it when you give him the shit eating grin when you win something (he says he let's you win sometimes because he pitied you, but is it really?)

to him, this is fun, amusing, entertaining. but to you? you've never felt this much hate in a human being, ever.

scaramouche is smart as fuck and he demonstrated that loud and clear

he aced the math test that the teacher gave that wasn't even taught to him

in presentations, he speaks loud and clear and you can really understand the point he's making

he doesn't really like group works (you noticed) but if he was put in a group, he does most of the job flawlessly

sports? oh of course. he's really good at baseball (pitcher). he's also good at other sports but not as good as baseball

oh and pray that you don't get him as your opponent in debates, you will be grilled like a brisket

did i mention he sleeps in like 70% of his classes? it's not like the teachers can do anything about it. he excels in everything, at least let him sleep as a gift

the only times he would be awake is when he pulls on your strings

but of course, you're also good in all of these, that's why you both are rivals

you fight almost everyday for the top spot (and for your original seat) to the point where its a daily routine to everyone else to see you both pinching and arguing in the classroom

He doesn't have any close friends (ahem childeahem) and it's either bc ppl are intimidated by him or he just doesnt give a fuck about friends

maintaining grades is one thing, winning against him is another

you are very intellegent, yes, but you work very hard for your grades every night. losing sleep studying for upcoming quizes and making sure your projects are perfect. unlike him who doesnt even try

you havent seen him study once

and it makes you see yourself lower. you're both equally in par with your grades but thats when he doesn't even try. what happens when he takes everything seriously? what if he studies as hard as you do? where will you stand then?

but when you got 2nd place for the 3rd time this year, he took it too far

"what the hell?! this is the third time!" you looked at the results in the bulletin board expecting to see your name in first place. you studied hard, right? so then why,,,

"oh oops, looks like i did a little too well again this time. aw and i didn't even answer some of the questions because i felt bad for beating you the last two times." a snicker is heard behind you and sure enough, piercing indigo eyes is looking at yours in pure pity. "thanks i guess. are you happy now? that's three times in a row!" aether beside you is now having a deadpan expression, expecting the worst. 'alright here we go again'.

"oh yes very, you know what makes me even happier? your declaration that you're inferior to me. why do you even try anyways, it's clear to everyone that im better. you're just wasting your time burying your head in your books and notes when we both already know who's coming at the top. imagine not meeting your parent's expectations." he's now looking down on you, beating you up with words that you know damn well are true. but that doesn't mean you're not gonna fight back.

"what."

"oh you know, maybe if you tried harder, the cost of your education might be worth it for your parents. honestly, if i we're them id--"

before he could finish his sentence, a loud echoing smack is heard all across the hallway, making everyone's attention turn to the commotion. scaramouche head is now turned the other way, his cheeks beginning to flare from the hit as he glared at the culprit, you. "you motherfucking bitc-!" you tackled him and due to surprise, he fell back. aether is now alert, shouting your name trying to get you to your senses.

you gripped scramouche's collar, rasing his head from the floor and slamming it back down. "you're an asshole, you know that?! i try my best everyday and this is what i get?!!" he fights back, hand on your arm that's trying to get a hold of his hair and another on your neck, holding back your weight.

"you don't know what it's like!! you will never know what it's like being compared to your brother everytime they get a chance!! you dont know what it's like going home to nothing but words of disappointment when you did everything you can to get their approval!! you will never know what it's like for your efforts to go to waste!! you will never know the feeling of being kicked out of your own home and live in a run down apartment!! i work day and night, i lose sleep everyday, i barely have anything for myself to live, and now i have to deal with your ass every single day too?!!"

"(name)! calm down, hey-!"

"fuck off aether!"

every word you spat pricked scaramouche's heart and made him struggle from your assaults. this isn't fun anymore. he knew a bit of your situation, kazuha told him. but he never knew it was this bad. all he knew is about your parent's expectations. he didn't even attempt to fight back this time and just defends himself from your blows. 'shit, i took it too far.'

"you dont have to remind me of my incompetence! i already know, i know damn well i will never be enough!! you're right, why do i even try, right?! you're so fucking annoying, doing everything so effortlessly, like school is a nuisance!! can't i take a fucking break?!!" at this point, you cannot control your tears from falling into his cheeks, rolling down his porcelain skin.

"what are you--?!"

"why can't i be a genius like you?! why dont i have everything that you have?!! i did everything i can, what am i doing wrong?!" you are now saying intangible words that no one can decipher because of the mess of emotions you are feeling at that moment. you're about to deliver another blow when someone held you back.

"(name)! you're doing too much! thats enough!!" goddamn she is stronger than i thought, scaramouche deals with this everyday?? aether pulled you away from the tangled mess that you and scaramouche managed to create. you're struggling his hold but after a bit, you slumped down having no more strength to keep going, sobbing quietly. "...(name)?" aether said.

"...i am so tired of everything, why do i even keep trying. i.. i just want to make my parents proud..." sniffles could be heard from where you are being held my aether's arms. aether supported you from the groud and led you away from the scene and the prying eyes of other students. before you both can disappear completely, aether turned around and gave scaramouche a threatening glare. "i know you both bicker a lot but you took it too far. you are an asshole and you better change that attitude of yours or i will send you home even worse than your condition right now." and you both are gone.

scaramouche is still sitting on the floor, his arm supporting his weight, bruises are forming in his skin while he's craddling his cheek that is now very noticeably red and flaring from the slap you served him earlier. he doesn't know how to act, really. should he apologize? should he just walk away and like nothing happened? should he report you for physical abuse? he didn't know anything.

what he does know though is that he fucked up, big time. he knows that you'll never want to see his face ever again, he knows that nothing will be the same again, and he knows thag the feelings he has will never be reciprocated, after what he's done.

he actually just found out recently, when someone from the other class was making fun of you and he didn't like it one bit, he's the only one allowed to make fun of you, everyone back off. scaramouche can see the crowd dissipating, no longer interested since the main action is gone. he sat there on the floor the whole time, rethinking his life choices, wondering if he said things differently instead of those. would he be seeing you tomorrow? will you still argue with him about nonsensical bullshit? can he still hold your hand whenever you pinch him?

he heard footsteps and before he can look up, someone had smacked him in the head.

"what the fuck-!!"

"i want to say 'are you okay', but to be honest you kinda deserved that." a mop of ginger can bee seen hanging from someone's head.

"fuck off childe, and why did you smack me?!"

"because you deserve it. but y'know, it's nice having front row seats seeing you ruin your life because of that toungue of yours. aether's right you're an ass." he helped scaramouche from the floor, dusting his uniform from the filth. "ill take you to the infirmary." scaramouche can only nod, feeling lethargic after all that energy spent.

he hopes to see you the next day, acting like nothing ever happened.

part 2