#it’s something little but it’s like. genuinely so interesting to me

[hoshifighting]

tutor!woozi (part 2)

check the part 1 (kinktober bonus)

WARNINGS: +18, smut, (oral f. & m.), throat fucking, penetrative sex, mentions of body fluids (cum, spit)

after that night, for all the times you’d wanted to text him, your ego kept its foot firmly on the brake. if jihoon thought you’d just come crawling back after his little remark, he was dead wrong. it didn’t matter how much your body craved another taste of him; no way were you about to give him that satisfaction. besides, it wasn’t like you were the only one who enjoyed that night, despite his attitude. if he wanted it again, HE’d have to come to you.

over the next week, every hallway encounter was a battle of wills. you’d pass by him with your friends, glancing away just slightly so you wouldn’t have to meet his gaze. and while your friends couldn’t help but notice the way jihoon’s friends looked at you as you walked by—waiting for the smirk you always used to throw his way—you’d hold your chin up and act like he didn’t even exist.

the whispers had started up again, too. after all, you and jihoon had been seen together plenty at the start of the semester, supposedly “studying” for a class you knew you didn’t even share. his friends had even toasted him over some rumor that tutoring wasn’t the only “learning” happening during those sessions. and now? they watched you like they were trying to figure out if you’d switched interests, especially when they saw you walking through campus with someone else’s arm casually slung over your shoulder. jihoon’s friends wore confused expressions, and if jihoon himself noticed…well, he didn’t give a single clue.

but it was getting harder to ignore it. especially tonight.

it was 9 pm, and you were dressed and ready for a night at the local bar, hoping a little drink and dance would be enough to take your mind off him completely. heading out, you made the mistake of cutting through his dorm hall, almost jogging to keep the tension from catching up with you. maybe he’d be out. or maybe he was too busy doing something else. you didn’t care. but as you neared the end of the hallway, a hand caught your arm, yanking you backward so quickly that you stumbled.

before you could react, you found yourself inside a dorm room, the familiar smell already cluing you in to where you were before you could fully process it. jihoon’s hand was still around your arm, the dorm was silent, the noise of the hall muffled as the door clicked shut behind you.

“where are you running off to, dressed like that?”

your pulse was racing, but you gave him a steady look, shrugging your arm free of his grip. “does it matter?” you smirked, turning as if to open the door, only to feel him step even closer behind you, blocking the way.

“what’s wrong with you?” you ask, crossing your arms.

you knew you had his attention, and now, for whatever reason, it looked like he couldn’t hold back anymore. jihoon opens his mouth like he’s about to answer, but he bites his tongue, his gaze dropping to the side as if the walls would have a solution for him.

“what’s wrong with me?” he finally retorts, jaw tense. “you had to ignore me that hard in front of my friends? couldn’t even throw a glance my way?”

you let out a genuine laugh. “weren’t you the one who told me not to reach out to you unless i wanted a ‘good fuck’? well, sorry, but didn’t seem worth it.”

his eyes flash. “really? ‘cause you seemed pretty into it at the time,” he counters, almost daring you to deny it.

“maybe i was.” you shrug. “but maybe i got over it.”

jihoon’s jaw clenches, and he takes a half step forward, closing the space separating you. “over it? you think you can just get over it that easy?”

“why not?”

he lets out a scoff, shaking his head. “you’re full of it. bet you thought about that night as much as i did. don’t. lie.”

your heart races, but you lift your chin defiantly. “if i’m full of it, then so are you, mr. i-don’t-need-anyone-reachin’-out-to-me. didn’t think you’d care if i ignored you. you’re all talk jihoon.” you tease, looking up at him, daring him to prove you wrong.

“all talk?” he scoffs, his mouth inches from yours, but he doesn’t close the gap. “maybe you need a reminder of how ‘not worth it’ i was.”

before you can reply, his hand slides down to the curve of your hip, pulling you close as his other hand tilts your chin up. his lips brush against yours in the faintest tease of a kiss before he pulls back, just enough to keep you wanting.

you let out a frustrated huff, trying to close the distance, but he holds you in place, a cocky smirk creeping onto his face. “not so fast... you wanted this, didn’t you?”

“you know i did.”

“so admit it... admit you wanted me to come after you.”

your pride fights to hold out, but the way his fingers dig into your ass meat, the way his voice drops just for you, it’s impossible to resist. “fine,” you whisper back. “i wanted you to come after me.”

he’s leaning in, lips parted, ready to crash into yours finally when your hand presses against his chest. he freezes, eyes flicking up to yours, searching. “bad boys don't get kissed.” you mock, savoring the way his expression falters.

he recognizes that phrase. he opens his mouth, maybe to protest, but he just closes his eyes, breathing out a low exhale through his nose, clearly biting back his response.

but the fury in his eyes returns, darker, and without a word, his hand slides up to the back of your neck, pulling you down with a grip that tells you exactly where this is going.

you let him guide you onto your knees.

“fine,” he mutters, voices gravelly, fingers grazing your jaw. “don’t need your kiss, anyway. got a better idea.”

his thumb drags along your lower lip, pressing until you open your mouth for him, and he can’t hide the hungry look that flashes across his face.

“this mouth of yours,” he mutters, thumb slipping between your lips. “always running it, always pushing me.” he watches intently as you take him in, tongue curling around his thumb, obedient despite the defiance in your eyes. “bet you’ll think twice about mouthing off when you’re choking on my cock.”

he undoes his shorts string, sliding it off, and before you know it, he’s pushing the fabric down just enough to free himself, his cock standing hard, thick and flushed in front of you.

he strokes himself slowly, dragging his length along your lips, smearing precum over them like lipgloss as he says, “you tap my thigh if you need a breath, got it?”

you nod, mouth already watering as you part your lips wider, letting him guide himself between them. his fingers tangle in your hair, pulling just enough to make you feel the sharp tug, and then he starts pushing forward, filling your mouth inch by inch until he’s pressing against the back of your throat.

he doesn’t ease up. he moves faster, driving deeper until he’s hitting that spot that makes your throat clench around him, your eyes watering instantly. spit starts to collect at the corners of your mouth, sliding down your chin as he pulls back only to push in again, even deeper this time, his cock stretching your throat wide, demanding every inch of space.

“all that attitude… gone.” his hand tightens in your hair, holding you still as he starts thrusting with a rough rhythm, hips snapping forward. “bet you’d do anything to prove me wrong now, wouldn’t you?”

he’s relentless, each thrust pressing your mouth and throat to their limits, your gag reflex triggered with every push. you feel spit pooling, slipping past your lips as you struggle to keep up with him, swallowing around his length even as he reaches deeper, his cock twitching at the tight, involuntary clenches of your throat.

you’re practically dripping, reduced to whimpers and gasps as he fucks your mouth, his hips rolling forward again and again, no space left for anything but him. when he pulls back for a second, a trail of spit stretches between your lips and the head of his cock, and he groans, wiping the mess over your cheek before plunging in again, going even harder.

“so pretty like this,” he mutters, watching as your eyes grow wetter, each thrust forcing a new wave of spit down your chin and neck, over his thighs. your fingers gripping his thighs for balance, and he smirks, giving a particularly sharp thrust that has you choking, throat convulsing as a line of spit drips down your chin. “that’s right. take it all.”

he starts slowing, grinding his hips forward, keeping himself pressed deep as he lets out a low groan, feeling the way you tremble. and then he thrusts one last time, deeper than before, pushing himself right to the base. he lets out a ragged breath as he stills, his cock twitching as you feel him tense, holding himself there, filling your throat as he spills into you, viscous and hot.

you swallow as best as you can, the bitter taste coating your tongue, but he doesn’t let you pull back right away.

you let the fullness press down on your throat until the edges of your vision begin to blur, the air thinning, everything swimming. you tap his thigh rapidly, a faint, desperate plea, and just as your lungs burn hottest, he releases, pulling you back with a hand steadying your shoulder. you slump onto your heels, shoulders sagging as you gulp down air, your head swimming with the remnants of his hold on you.

his hands stay firm on your shoulders, keeping you steady as you breathe, your throat aches, stretched and raw, the sting of his rough pace lingering with every shallow gulp.

as he maneuvers you onto the bed, his hands slide down impatiently and your dress and panties are gone all in once. he pauses for a moment, taking you in, his gaze raking over the sight of your swollen lips and sultry eyes, glazed with that barely-there smirk. 

he cant do this right now.

he grips your arm, twisting you to fall chest-first onto the mattress, hips lifted up as his arm curls around you.

“you—” you scoff, voice raspy, “can’t you fuck me while looking at my face?”

he lets out a low laugh, leaning close to your ear as his hand slides down your back. “oh, i think you’ve had enough of my face for tonight… plus, i think you look even better like this—bent over and whining.”

you couldnt even have a second to roll your eyes, a comeback on the tip of your tongue, but he’s already there, pressing into you suddenly, stretching your pussy in one hard, unrelenting thrust that punches the breath right out of your lungs. a cry rips from you, loud and hoarse, and you brace yourself against the mattress, fingers twisting into the sheets as your whole body shakes.

"that shut you up?” he breathes, hands digging into your hips as he sets a bruising pace. you can’t even catch your breath, every thrust leaving you reeling, gasping for air. tears prick at your eyes, spilling over as he hits that spot, so precise it’s maddening.

“fuck—s-so deep—” you choke out, incoherent as you press your cheek to the sheets, gripping the fabric so hard your knuckles ache. his fingers dig into the meat of your hips, pulling you back to meet every thrust, his balls slapping your clit making you convulse with everythrust. 

“thought you wanted this, yeah?” he taunts, leaning down. “thought you liked it rough. what, too much for you now?”

“n-no—” you manage, though the word comes out in a broken sob, your voice betraying you. he’s unrelenting, snapping his hips forward with every word, and you can feel yourself falling apart, the way he’s not holding anything back. it’s dizzying and yet you can’t help but crave it, want more, need more.

“thought you could handle it, acting all cocky,” he sneers, giving your ass a hard smack that makes you jolt, a fresh tide of tears spilling down your cheeks.“crying for it. pathetic.”

you let out a choked, breathless sob, the humiliation only heightening the need simmering inside you. “p-please…” you whimper, unable to do anything but plead as he keeps driving into you.

“oh, now you’re begging?” he laughs. “all that attitude, all that talk, and now you’re nothing but a crying mess on my bed.”

another broken cry slips out of you, and he chuckles. his hands trail down your spine, his fingers digging into your skin, grounding you, steadying you in the haze.

“you’re so fucking pretty like this,” he coos. “all desperate… should’ve known you’d like it this way.”

you can’t respond, can’t do anything but let out a helpless, broken cry, body arching, straining against him as you feel your orgasm approaching. and even then, he doesn’t stop, doesn’t let up, keeping you there.

“you thought you could come in here all high and mighty that night.. now look where that got you.”

“shut up,” you manage to gasp as he snaps his hips harder, the sound echoing in the small space. “you’re—” another thrust cuts you off, drawing another whimper from your throat.

“i’m what? too rough for you? too much for that little mouth of yours? you’ve got no problem talking back when you’re not getting fucked, huh?”

“i said shut up!” you cry out, though your voice is shaky, betraying you. “you’re just—oh my god—”

“just what?” 

“i hate you,” you whimper, even as your body betrays you, arching into him, chasing that sweet friction.

he can hear the contradiction.

“sure you do,” he laughs softly, his breath warm against your skin.

the moment you squeeze him harder, makes him wince, his cock feels so sensitive, after that last mind-blowing orgasm, and he can’t help but throw his head back, his breath hitching in his throat as he fights to control himself.

you’re lost in your own world, eyes shut tight as you cling to him, and he uses that to his advantage. with a smirk curling on his lips, he pulls out slowly, relishing the way your body protests against the emptiness.

“n-no, jihoon!” you whine, instinctively reaching for him. you grab his hand from behind your back, intertwining your fingers with his, a silent plea not to tease you anymore. 

“c’mon, jihoon, just stop teasing me already.” you push your ass against his hips, a cheeky slap echoing in the room. 

he would be lying if he says it doesn’t turn him on, when your existence is enough to make his blood run hot. as he lowers himself behind you, he can’t help but watch the way your pussy clenchesaround nothing, how your curves seem to invite him in. 

he leans in, letting his breath ghost over your skin before he dives in, his tongue swirling around your dripping pussy. you cry all cute on his sheets, like his tongue was a sweet and massaging reward after he destroyed your cunt with his thick lenght.

he lets your clit rest under his tongue as he dives the tip of the wet, pinky muscle, between your folds. just to flick the tongue down again and take the throbbing nerve inside his mouth, making you sob.

his tongue dances across your folds, the slickness of your cum coating him. his mouth is warm and inviting, eager haven as he drinks you in. he alternates between languid licks that tease your puffy lips and insistent flicks that make you roll your eyes. 

your hands tangle in his hair from behind, pulling him closer as you urge him on, the silky strands slipping through your fingers. his fingers tighten around your thighs, holding you firmly in place as he plunges his tongue deeper, swirling it around inside you.

your body is a symphony of slickness, the remnants of your cum coating his chin and the skin around his mouth. he dives back in, tongue swirling around your entrance, licking up every drop of your honey before turning his attention back to your clit.

“i’m so close, jihoon,” you whimper. “that's it!”

he responds by sucking your clit into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it while his fingers push into you, the pressure of them stretching you just right. 

as if on cue, you feel that big hot bubble in your lower belly snap, you cry out, each pulse of the orgasm making you tighter around his fingers. 

jihoon couldn't shake the feeling of unease as he watched you get up from his bed, your movements quiet and subdued after your intense orgasm. the post-orgasm glow faded too quickly.

“where do you think you’re going?” he asked as he pulled you back down onto the bed. you landed softly, your eyes wide and innocent as you frowned at him.

“i’m… leaving?” you said, trying to keep your tone light.

he exhaled sharply, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment as he fought against the frustration. “you’re only saying that because of how i made you leave the last time, aren’t you?”

you shifted slightly, looking away as if the truth was too difficult to face. “maybe..” you admitted softly, and that single word made his heart sink.

“i’m sorry about that,” he said, sincerity lacing his tone. “i miss those tutoring classes, you know? i didn't mean to push you away like that. it’s just… i think—”

“you think?” you shot back, crossing your arms defiantly. “you told me not to come after you unless i wanted a good fuck. not very delicate.”

“that was a mistake,” he insisted, as he searched your eyes. “i didn’t think it would end up like this. i thought we were just messing around.” he ran a hand through his hair, frustration evident on his face. “but i want more than that. i like having you around.”

you looked at him, your expression softening just a little. “so, what? you want to tutor me again? pretend like we didn’t just…” you trailed off.

“no,” he replied firmly. “i want to be honest with you. i want you to want me, not just as a way to fill some need… just like i want you.” he paused, gathering his thoughts.

“so you’re just going to keep me here, like this?” you asked, tilting your head. 

“if you’ll let me,” he replied. “just stay.”

“you really think it’s that easy? just because we had one good round?”

“it’s not just about the sex,” he said, getting nearer. “i want to explore more than that, but only if you’re willing.”

“and if i’m not?” you asked.

“then i guess i’ll have to work a little harder to change your mind,” he teased lightly.

you rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the smile creeping onto your lips. “good luck with that, jihoon. i’m not that easy.”

“i never thought you were,” he smirked, leaning closer. “but i’m willing to put in the effort. so, what’s it gonna be?”

you bit your lip, “maybe i’ll stick around for a little while longer,” you replied, leaning back into the bed with a teasing smile.

“good choice.”

[slytherinboysvip]

Imagine best friend Mattheo being absolutely obsessed with his innocent little Hufflepuff bsf but she just can’t tell. Everyone else knows, and it is quite obvious, but she just can’t think someone like him would want someone like her. But when she jokingly says she’s gonna get Cedric to take her virginity he decides it’s time he came clean.

Possibly with some soft smut if you are comfortable with it of course

bsf mattheo riddle x hufflepuff reader

hopefully this matches your request <3 i’ll most likely make a part 2 for this because.. you’ll see ;) 3.5k words

you lived a rather simple uncomplicated life, attending hogwarts as a hufflepuff with no interest in anyone’s drama. though you kept to yourself most times you tried to be nice to all your peers maintaining your classic hufflepuff demeanor, despite this there was one thing that was different about you.

you see, you didn’t see or understand why people don’t like other houses just because of “house rivalry” especially the students who weren’t even participating in any sports or point winning. and with this over your years though you had few friends you had one best friend who at first seemed rather impossible to be friends with.. mattheo riddle.

when you two met you were a fourth year and him a fifth, coincidentally you were going on to a few friends about your annoyance with people automatically assuming the worst of slytherin even though you yourself weren’t in their house or nearly like one. mattheo overheard this heated- adorable voice coming from behind him and he walked towards you carefully.

he sat down in front of you beside your friend as she gawked faces towards you at his presence. “you don’t think we’re too mean, huh?” he questioned small laugh leaving his lips. “i just think that some people are misunderstood and just because some wizards turned out bad doesn’t mean all of them in your house are” you looked at him answering his question with ease

he smirked in amusement and leaned a little closer to you “hm, hufflepuff eh? what year are you puff?” he sat back examining you and you didn’t fail to notice that nickname he slipped in “fourth year but i have an early birthday which is annoying because i could technically be out sooner” you sighed ignoring his staring.

“well, seeing as it’s ravenclaw against gryffindor do you wanna watch the quidditch game with me i know the best view” he stood up and held his hand out for you, you look towards your friends and they’re both nodding their heads for you to go so you did.

from that point on you and mattheo had been best friends, sadly he was in his seventh year and now you in your sixth nothing much had changed in your life. living vicariously through mattheo and his stories about slytherin parties and how you should go to one with him before it’s too late, he’d tell you about his sexual adventures and your jaw would drop everytime.

you yourself also confided in him though with much less interesting things, telling him how you feel unlikeable by guys sometimes because they never try to get or talk to you, or how you feel lonely because you’ve never had a a boyfriend before. hed always help soothe the thoughts away, telling you that it’s only your brain making those things up , “listen y/n, anyone who doesn’t love you is fucking insane”.

𓆙

talking to your friend zarah who’d been there since day one you always told her what you told matt, for the most part. “i just don’t get why nobody is interested in me zar, like am i genuinely that ugly” you plopped onto your bed sighing dramatically. “you’re not ugly and if you think no guys want you you’re blind i know one in particular that really, really wants you” she giggled.

you looked at her with a confused expression “i must be missing something because i have no idea who you’re talking about” you awaited her response and she just rolled her eyes and sighed “girl your practically boyfriend of a best friend you do everything with” she gave you a duh look and you just laughed. you genuinely couldn’t believe she’d even think he’d like you especially with all the girls he’d been with, “you’re hilarious, we both know he doesn’t want me he wants all the girls he tells me about” you started to compose yourself but zarah’s expression didn’t change.

“you literally must be blind y/n do you need glasses? or should i say puff? let’s talk about how that man hasn’t stopped calling you that pet name since you’ve met.. he’s in love” she rolled her eyes raising her hands in the air. “i still don’t think he wants me so there’s no convincing me” you shrugged her off and she groaned getting up and leaving your shared dorm.

𓆙

“puff you gotta come to this party, slytherin won agains gryffindor i just know this is gonna be the party you want to go to pleaseee” mattheo put his hands on your shoulders shaking you “fiinee” you attempted to answer between shakes before he let you go “if i would’ve known it was that easy i would’ve done that years ago” he rolled his eyes.

“anyways it’s tonight at like 8 so i’ll just get you from your dorm at like 7 do you think they’ll let me in? actually what’s the password?” he didn’t give you time to finish any of your sentences before you just gave him the password “butterscotch” you whispered, in response mattheo laughed “fucking butterscotch merlin that’s hilarious” you looked up at him and rolled your eyes walking away.

“i’ll see you at 7 puff” he yelled across the hall and you just gave a thumbs up and continued walking. you honestly were quite nervous seeing as you’ve never necessarily been to a party before, you’ve made small appearances at hufflepuff parties but you’ve heard they don’t even compare to slytherin.

making your way into your dorm you spot zarah and you pull her up from the common room couch “i finally said yes to a party need help now” you quickly mumbled and she quickened her pace “when does it start girl i need the info right this second come on you’re talking too long for me” she rushed and you blurted it all out “8pm he’s getting me at 7 he has the password he will be at the dorm” closing the door behind you two you both stopped to catch your breath

“sooo is it a dateee” she shimmied her arm on you winking “i already told you he doesn’t like me!!” you replied to her relentlessness. “ugh whatever we need to get you ready girl it’s already six” she pushed you onto your shared vanity chair and pulled out all of your makeup and a few things of hers, “creative control?” she asked smirking at you “mm fine but not too much” you agreed “we’ll see” she giggled.

after around 30 minutes she finished your makeup and she showed you the finished product, looking at yourself in the mirror you thought how you never would’ve put on red lipstick yet you feel really good in it. she gave you a small smokey eye and a small winged liner and you felt you looked more aggressive then you were, but you kinda loved it.

“it’s so much but so pretty” you admired yourself and the makeup she put on you slowly getting used to the feeling of fake eyelashes on your eyes. “i’m so glad you love it, but we need to find an outfit like three hours ago” she joked and rushed to your closets “i actually have the perfect dress in mind if you’re feeling the want to rep slytherin green” she raised her eyebrows up at you in a suggestive matter “sure why not” you shrugged

she handed you a velvet body con forest green dress that you were sure was going to be extremely short and you mean in every place. she held it up onto you “this will be perfect. get it on come on” she rushed you into the bathroom and you began putting it on “this is sooo tight” you called out as you struggled “oh i forgot it was a corset back wait i need to help you can i come in” she yelled through the door

“yeah come on i need this thing one me already” you struggled more as she walked in and immediately began to help you loosening the strings of the dress and pulling it down onto you “there we go now suck in like your life depends on it” she said half jokingly and began retightening the corset back. with every pull it felt like your chest was spilling out more and more and your ribs were shrinking “okay merlin that’s enough before i can’t breathe” you huffed and she stopped tying it off in a bow

“stop you look so hot y/n i bet matt will be drooling” she teased and you just rolled your eyes “what do we do with my hair” you looked at her with horror as you only had ten minutes before he should arrive. you quickly began curling your hair not really caring if it was messy just giving it some body and just as you were spraying perfume on there was a knock on your door.

zarah looked at you and whispered “answer it go go now” she pointed to the door like she was afraid to touch it herself and you walked over opening it to see mattheo in an all black button down with the top few buttons undone and black dress looking pants yet somehow he didn’t look overdressed. he didn’t say anything for a minute he was just staring at you looking up and down in awe “holy fuck y/n who did your makeup you look woah” he put his finger on your chin moving your head around examining your makeup

“zarah isn’t it pretty” you smiled and he removed his hand and replied “yeah you are, now let’s go” he grabbed your hand and you looked behind you waving bye to zarah “he’s so in love with you” she whispered before the door slammed closed.

𓆙

once you got the the party you noticed there were already many slytherins already pregaming and mattheo brought you two to them, “let’s get some alcohol in you little puff” he winked and poured you a shot of who knows what, you smelled the foul drink and it made your nose burn “come on do ittt” he cheered on and you held your nose throwing the shot back gagging at the taste. “how do people enjoy that” you made a face at him “like this” he replied taking two shots himself, “now catch up” he winked pouring you yet another

“if i didn’t know any better id say you’re trying to get me drunk matt” you laughed and he looked at you amused “obviously that’s what im trying to do it’s a party” he put the shot glass to your lips and you parted them taking the burning substance down your throat, “eugh that didn’t get any better the second time” you shook your head in disgust. “hm, let me make you an actual drink” he grabbed a clear liquor and a red juice mixing them together adding more alcohol than your past two shots and handed it to you

“matt this smells foul” you looked up at him, “just try it trust me the slytherins have the masking drink down” he winked and you reluctantly took a sip, and to your surprise all you tasted was juice. after taking another few sips you quick began drinking it and mattheo pulled the cup from your lips “slow down there this shits dangerous you’ll get so drunk you won’t be able to walk straight” he chuckled. “it’s not my fault they made it taste like juice” you shrugged still sipping.

“hey mattheo have your little hufflepuff take some shots with us” enzo threw his arm around your shoulders and mattheo pushed them off almost immediately “no she doesn’t need any shots” he spoke “you didn’t even ask me” you protested, granted you didn’t necessarily want to take any shots you just didn’t like being talked for. “oo are you sure you’re not slytherin you got an attitude” enzo laughed handing you a shot and you looked at mattheo who rolled his eyes as you took the shot.

throwing the shot back the burning sensation took over your throat and you could feel it rushing down your throat. you coughed a bit and chugged your drink for comfort “puff you’re going to get shitfaced slow down” matt fully took your cup this time and you were already feeling it. giggling looking up at him “okay now who was going to tell me party’s are fun” you continued giggling.

the music started playing and the slytherin common room was now getting more and more packed. you saw fifth year students and up in here, even a few ravenclaw and hufflepuffs your recognized. to your surprise in the corner of the party you spotted cedric diggory talking to a group of girls holding a drink.

pansy noticed your head being stuck in a certain direction and followed your eyes “oh em gee, someone’s got their eyes on a certain hufflepuff” she winked shoving her shoulder at your “shhhhh he’s just nice to look at” you giggled at her and she giggled along “you two would be soo cute” she added dragging you back to the drinks

“let’s take some shots!” she exclaimed handing you two , you took them smiling and shot them back with her, a woo leaving her mouth. “here chaser, chaser!” she shouted handing you another drink this time what looked like a lot of the punch, downing it all she laughed “girl we’re gonna be gone”. looking around you were seeing doubles of everything but didn’t want the night to already end.

“so, are you a virgin?” pansy shouted over the music making your already alcohol flushed face even redder “pansy!! you can’t just ask that!!” you shouted back flustered at the intrusive question, “i’m only curious girl” she giggled and gave you begging eyes “come onnnn” she shook you till you gave in “fine yes i am but don’t tell anyone!” you replied back as lowly as you could over the music

“who would you lose it to?” she giggled “i lost mine to blaise hehe sshhhh” she winked, considering she just told you her secret you felt obligated and just looked around “i mean i guess cedric” you giggled as she pointed at him after your response. before she could say anything else you felt a pair of hands wrap around your waist and drag you off. trying to kick your way out was useless and they brought you to an empty dorm.

through all of this you couldn’t tell who it was kicking and screaming for them to let you go till you heard mattheos voice “puff calm down it’s just me” he sighed putting you down on what you now assumed was his bed “why did you bring me in here that was so scary” you huffed trying to gain your composure. “diggory?” he scoffed not answering your question.

you looked at him confused as to what he was on about “what do you mean? what about cedric” you cocked your head to the side in confusion “you lost your virginity to him??” he questioned stepping closer to you looking rather.. pissed. you just laughed in response “me? lose my virginity to cedric?.. you’re funny” yeah you fantasized about it but it certainly wouldn’t happen.

“what were you talking to pansy about then??” he looked at you unconvinced, “she asked if i lost it and i said no, but id let him take it.-“ you shrugged “besides you know i tell you everything matt i’ve never even had a boyfriend let alone a guy be interested in my virginity” you sighed laying back onto the bed now feeling upset.

you heard mattheo sigh and you picked your head up to look at him, his eyes stared back at you in silence before breaking it “believe me there’s a lot of guys who want to get in your pants” he rubbed his fists and you gave him a confused expression yet again “what are you on about matt?” you were getting sober just from all of this extra mystery.

he walked over to the bed sitting beside you, “listen when we met you were just.. blooming completely and i would be lying if i didn’t say i first went up to you because of your looks.. well overtime you know we became friends and i noticed other guys staring in ways they shouldn’t have been so i had to teach them a lesson.” he looked at you and yo didn’t know how to respond to something like that.

“what exactly are you saying matt?” you didnt understand what he was poking at, did matt mean to say he basically likes you? were you reading too much into this? “look y/n, no one else in this school fucking deserves you. hell i don’t deserve you but i know i can treat you how you need. don’t ask me what took so long to confess to you y/n, but do you feel even remotely the same?” he let it all out quick and fast, and your mouth dropped.

“you want.. me?” you looked at him in disbelief and he just smiled “that’s what that whole speech was about, yeah” he chuckled nervously awaiting your reply “why?” you sighed still slightly unconvinced “have you fucking seen yourself puff? you’re so undeniably gorgeous, i don’t know how i hold myself back from you everyday” he leaned in closer to you making this all seem more real. without thinking you allowed yourself to lean into him, faces and lips meeting for the most magical first kiss you could’ve ever imagined.

“you’re so fucking beautiful y/n” he grabbed your face pulling you closer to him till you straddled over his lap sitting down continuing the now makeout. “this is so much better than.. imagined” you huffed through the kisses. you could already feel mattheos member growing beneath you and you never thought you’d be the one experiencing this from your best friend.

you’d be lying if you didn’t admit to a fantasy or two about him in the past but this was already one thousand times better than ever imagined. mattheos lips kissed their way down your neck leaving small marks tiny moans leaving your mouth, “i need to hear more of that, y/n, let me eat you out.. please i need a taste” he continued his kisses along your neck bringing them back to your lips “i’ve never- mm yes” you replied as his fingers began making circles over your underwear.

“you sound so good fuck” he groaned pulling you off of him and getting off the bed, “you’re sure of this?” he questioned one last time and you just nodded impatiently awaiting his next move. next thing you knew he was yanking you to the edge of his bed and slowly removing your pants and underwear looking up at you from below. “holy fuck puff.. you’re fucking soaking” he breathed out over your pussy sending tingles down your spine.

without warning his mouth met your untouched area and you felt things never imaginable. his tongue made its way around your bulging clit, flicking it up and down and making his way to your entrance sucking and licking “you taste so good holy fuck” he huffed going right back in not even looking up at you, “can i put two fingers” he spoke from your pussy and you couldn’t even properly answer “mm y-yes” you replied between your moans.

you felt his slender fingers teasing your entrance and he slowly began inching one in and out teasingly, “mattheo-“ you huffed and he chuckled shoving both fingers in, loud moan escaping your mouth and this new feeling. he did a few different moments trying to figure out what makes you moan the most, soon his tongue was sucking expertly on your clit as his fingers twisters and curled inside of you.

“matt i want to.. try” you moaned at this pleasure wanting nothing more than to feel him inside of you now. “mm but you’re not ready yet puff” he continued devouring your pussy simply divulging in it as if he’d never eaten anything before. his pace on everything quickened and you were already near your own orgasm, “if you don’t s-stop i’m gonna cum” you moaned loudly trying to control yourself.

“let go for me sweetheart” he sucked harder on your clit, the nickname and action forcing your orgasm to flood over you harder than you’ve ever been able to make yourself experience. your body was shaking and you couldn’t hold your reactions back, mattheo slowly licked your gushing area clean before standing up “mm now i think you’ll be ready soon” he smirked leaning down over you, grabbing your chin and giving you a kiss.

[ahamkara-apologist]

okay disclaimer: ik that categorizing female characters as the 'mom friend/figure' is a legit disease in fandom caused by general misogynistic views of female characters, and it's something that personally greatly irritates me bc its not only awful to do, it also tends to ruin the characters its put upon. ESPECIALLY in D2, which is outstanding in its cast of strong female characters

however. in the case of Eramis, I do believe that the fact that she was a mother and is a genuinely caring, nurturing person at heart is something that is a deeply important core part of her character, as well as thematically important to the future of the Eliskni moving forward. It's important because in her case, I believe that her motherly inclinations are why, pre-Witness-whispering-through-the-Darkness, Eramis was such a successful kell- because unlike some other kells who sought a future for the Eliksni via domination, her main focus for them was to create a haven for her people that could be defended from Lightbearers. Riis-Reborn wasn't something to sniff at- it was the closest thing to an actual Eliksni city in a very long while. What got her was her trauma of the Whirlwind and her desire to destroy the Traveler to level the playing field for everyone involved- trauma that the Witness preyed upon in order to get to us. Like a parasite, seeking its secondary host. Eramis certainly is not the only Eliksni who lost her family during the Whirlwind, but I think that her specific brand of anger is closest to that of a mother lion whose cubs are in danger, and is lashing out in a furious fight-or-flight reflex at anything that she perceives as a threat. It's just that in this case, her 'cubs' were the Eliksni as a whole, and the threat she perceived before the Witness started torturing her was the Traveler.

I also think that her relationship with parenthood also makes for a very interesting character contrast to Misraaks (aka the other successful kell viewed as a source of hope for the Eliksni), and helps to set them up as antiparallels to each other. Eramis was a gentle, nurturing mother with a reverence for the Traveler who turned into the bitter, cunning warrior we see now when she lost access to her wife and children; Misraaks was a fearsome, ruthless pirate before he became a father, which gentled him and turned him towards being more pious. Eramis represents the old ways, and offers hope to the Eliksni who cannot bear to cohabitate with humanity; Misraaks represents a change in the tide, and kells the open-minded Eliksni who are willing to lay down their arms to live among the humans of Sol. Misraaks is of Light (change, forgiveness, moving forward), while Eramis is of Darkness (memory, control, looking back). They're opposites in every way except for the fact that both of them were/are amazing parents, and I'd argue that their ability to nurture and overlook others is what led to their success as kells.

Most importantly, however, is their relationship to Eido, who represents the future of the Eliksni. Misraaks was her father, and he did his best to raise her to be kind and openminded, but he also shielded her from the horrors of the past a little too well. She's outgrown that, and now that she's strong enough to handle said horrors, Eramis has been acting as a mentor to fully introduce her to the tragedy of what she lost and why elder Eliksni are so angry about it- and I don't think that she would have been receptive to Eido attempting to talk to her if it weren't for the fact that under all of her prickly armour, she's still that nurturing person at heart. It's her desire to care for others and to see a better future for her people that has kept her going despite her having no hope for herself, and it's that loving heart that has saved herself and her people from utter destruction at both our hands and Fikrul's- because if she didn't look at eido and go 'oh this child is the future of our people and i must protect her with my life', then both her and the rest of House Salvation would have been marked for death. And now here she is, continuing to care for Eido even as her father declines by telling her stories about Riis and helping her track down an apothecary to try to cure him, despite her not believing in his ways. I don't think it's entirely because she used to be a mother, but...I do think that it's playing a huge role in it.

(I also think it's personally fascinating to see how someone who used to be known for being a doting, sweet mom to her hatchlings and a caring mate to her wife can turn into someone who's a terrifying warrior on the battlefield and a cunning, politically saavy ruler, but even then, that doesn't surprise me all that much- if you've got a dearth of experience wrangling hatchlings, then being kell of a house is basically just wrangling a bunch of grown-up hatchlings. Same principles, just upped a level or two in complexity.)

[eelnoise]

only this moment

zoro x gn!reader cw: fluff, first kisses, you and zoro are a little drunk an: HAPPY BIRTHDAY MY BEAUTIFUL BELOVED AMAZING SWEET BOY. sorry it's a day late :( high key the prequel to this fic and it's sequel (both nsfw!) but more a fun fact than a requirement btw. wc: 4.2k

It's Zoro's birthday, and while he's never been one to make a fuss about it, this year the ship is conveniently docked for the night, giving the crew the perfect opportunity to celebrate. He doesn’t exactly mind—and it’s not like he can avoid it—he’s not used to the attention such a day brings. Leaning against the railing and staring off into the sunset, he remains quiet, distant in the way he always is. 

But there’s a softness in the way his gaze lingers on the crew, their laughter and warmth filling the air beneath the fading light of the setting sun. The comfort it brings doesn’t feel strange anymore. It’s simply a part of his world now, like the rising and setting sun—familiar, irreplaceable, and quietly essential.

He’s snapped out of his thoughts by the unmistakable sound of your footsteps approaching, your voice cutting through the noise of the crew. “You alright? Are they too much for ya?”

Zoro glances over his shoulder, his usual deadpan expression in place, but there's a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes as they land on you. "Nah, they’re not botherin’ me," he grumbles and shakes his head, his act deliberately nonchalant. “I’m alright.”

He’s good at hiding it, at playing off the unfamiliar tug in his chest every time you speak to him like that. But the truth is, he’s not used to the way your presence settles something in him, not used to how easy it feels just to be near you.

You smile, and it’s effortless, like you’ve known him for years, and maybe you have, but there’s something different about it tonight. Something that makes him feel strangely exposed, even though you’re only a few feet away. He’s used to being left alone, used to carrying the weight of his thoughts without anyone noticing, but with you, it’s like he can’t hide behind his usual walls.

Coming to a stop just next to him, Zoro turns around to properly face you and notices that you’re holding something behind your back. His brows furrow slightly, his eyes narrowing in a way that makes you think he’s already figured it out, even when he hasn’t.

“What’re you hiding?” he asks, his words slow and steady, but there’s a hint of curiosity beneath the surface—he’s trying too hard to play it off, and he still can’t quite mask it.

“I know you don't care much for gifts or whatever but—” His attention sharpens, but he doesn’t press. Instead, he just crosses his arms, a half-smirk tugging at his lips, like he’s willing to let you have your fun for now. But even then, his eyes don’t leave you, waiting, just a little too interested.

With a sly grin, you reach behind your back and pull out two bottles of sake, one in each hand. “I remembered how much you liked that sake from the island we visited last month,” you say, holding up the bottles for a closer look. “Thought it’d make a good birthday gift. Y’know, some good memories.”

You glance at him, offering a small, almost shy smile. There’s no big gesture, no over-the-top presentation—just something simple that you thought he'd appreciate.

Zoro is speechless, his arms still crossed over his chest, trying to keep his composure and not let on to how much the gesture seems to throw him off. He’s not used to being on the receiving end of things, and gifts are especially new territory. For a long moment, he just stares, his eyes flitting from the bottles in your hands to your face, like he’s waiting for the punchline. But it never comes.

He wasn’t expecting anything. He didn’t want anything. Still, as you stand there before him, looking so genuine and kind and truthful, something within him swells. A warm feeling blossoming in his chest.

Zoro swallows, his words a little rough, more vulnerable than he wants them to be. “Didn’t have to do that,” he mutters, but there’s a quiet fondness in his expression that contradicts his words. He holds out his hand, silently asking for the bottles, waiting patiently for you to hand one to him.

You offer a bottle, and he takes it from your hands, his fingers brushing yours for just a second. He hesitates, clearly unsure of how to respond, before muttering, “Thanks...” in that awkward way he does when he’s caught off guard. But then, as if a thought suddenly strikes him, he looks up, a hint of something softer in his eyes.

“Hey... you wanna share a bottle?” he asks, his tone casual, but there's an underlying sincerity there. He quickly clears his throat, as if the offer itself was a bit more vulnerable than he meant it to be. "I mean, you went out of your way to get it for me. Least I can do is share."

The way he says it—slightly gruff but definitely not uninterested—makes it clear that he doesn't want you to walk off just yet. It's not just about the sake. He wants you to stick around.

You grin, “Of course I do, in fact…” trailing off, you quickly produce two shot glasses from your back pocket—stashed just for this very instance in mind. The small glass makes a soft clink against the wood as you slide one over the railing to Zoro with a knowing look. “I figured you'd be in the mood for a drink," you add, gesturing for him to have the first pour.

He catches the glass between his fingers and uncorks the bottle to pours the clear liquid gently into the small glass. Raising it to his lips, he swirls it slightly before taking a sip. The alcohol burns pleasantly down his throat, warming him from the inside out. He lets out a satisfied sigh, his shoulders relaxing a bit.

"Not bad," he comments, raising his glass in a silent toast before taking another drink. His eyes linger on you, studying your face in the fading light. "You know me well," he adds, his expression  thoughtful, as though he's still processing the simple truth in the words. 

Zoro tilts his head slightly, studying you in a way that's both casual and strangely intense before handing the bottle over to you. He watches you closely as you fill your glass up, his focus once again lingering on your face, as if trying to read you.

You take the bottle with a small, knowing grin, your fingers brushing his as you accept it. Your glass is already in hand, and you pour a generous amount, the clear liquid catching the last of the fading sunlight. As you bring the glass to your lips, you meet his gaze, holding it just long enough to make him wonder whether you’re savoring the moment or just being playful. The warmth of the alcohol spreads quickly, but it's not enough to dull the sharpness of the connection between you both. 

The night stretches on and the deck clears out, leaving  Zoro and you settled into a comfortable rhythm, now relaxed with your backs against the hull, the warmth from the alcohol fighting the chill of the crisp sea wind. The conversation has shifted from casual banter to deeper, quieter exchanges, though neither of you is particularly worried about keeping things serious for long.

But now, his eyes are fixed on you in that way he always has when he's trying to figure something out—or just when he's being his usual teasing self. You’ve had a few too many, and while you’re not exactly stumbling, your laughter has taken on a loose, carefree quality—and for a moment he’s so taken with you he doesn’t catch the smile in his cheeks.

Zoro’s expression doesn’t escape your notice, making your brow furrow. “What’s with the look?” you ask, flashing a playful grin.

He smirks, taking another swig from his glass before leaning against the railing. “You’re such a lightweight, ya know that?”

“Anyone’s a lightweight compared to you, dude.” You reply, rolling your eyes slowly, but with a touch of amusement, you let out a little laugh. It’s hard to stay annoyed with that smug grin of his.

There's a dare in his poise, playful and teasing, but with an edge of something else—a spark of excitement, a hint of mischief. With his back pressed against the cool, rough wood of the wall, he shifts just enough so his gaze locks with yours.

Zoro chuckles, low and deep, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Maybe so, but I bet I could still outdrink you any day."

There's a challenge in his tone, playful and teasing, but with a hint of something else—an edge of excitement, a spark of mischief. With his back pressed against the cool, rough wood of the ship, he shifts just enough so his look meets yours.

"What do you say? Think you can handle a little competition?" he asks, a hint of teasing in his words.

You nod eagerly, your eyes lighting up with the same mischievous energy. A slow grin spreads across your face, the alcohol lending you the courage to match his boldness. "Oh, I'm game," you reply, shifting slightly closer, your thigh brushing against his as you adjust your position. "What are you thinking?"

Zoro's eyes glint with mischief, his lips curling into a sly smirk. "Simple," he says, his voice low. "We take turns guessing something about each other. If you're wrong, you take a shot."

He tilts his head, his gaze never leaving yours. The mischief in his eyes still lingers, but there's a lighter edge to it now, a playful gleam that makes the moment feel less intense and more... electric in its own way. The air between you shifts, not a spark, but something that quickens the beat of your heart.

The thought of being so close, trading secrets and truths, sends a little thrill through you. Even in the dim light, you can see every detail of his face, his expression open, his eyes sharp with interest. It's intimate in a way both familiar and new, and your heart hammers in your chest. 

“You're on," you reply, the words coming out a little more breathless than you intended. "But don't think I'm gonna go down easily."

Zoro’s smirk deepens, his stare never wavering from yours, the tease in his eyes sharp and unwavering. He leans in slightly, a flicker of amusement dancing in his look. “Let me guess," he says smooth and confidently. "Your biggest fear... it’s not something simple, right? Nah, I bet it’s something that really gets under your skin." He pauses, studying you with a critical eye, before letting out a slow breath. "I’m gonna say... it’s being helpless. Not being able to protect the people you care about."

His words hang in the air, his eyes still locked onto yours, as if he's daring you to confirm or deny it. The intensity of his gaze is almost too much, but you can’t help but feel a strange warmth at the fact that he’s thought so deeply about it.

A shiver runs down your spine at how close he is, the way his voice wraps around the words, and the sheer truth of it all. You swallow, trying to keep your expression neutral as you meet his eyes.

“Damn," you murmur, a hint of surprise in your voice. "That's more accurate than I care to admit. How the hell did you guess that?"

Zoro laughs, "Maybe I just know you that well, eh?" He playfully nudges you, the alcohol, and you, are calming him more than he'd like to admit. He's very comfortable in this moment, and it's something he can't deny to himself, so why not indulge in the rare privacy? "Drink up." He adds with a nod.

A soft laugh escapes your lips, the sound a little shaky. "Seems like it," you mutter, the reality of how well he knows you sending a strange wave of heat through your chest.

Following his instruction, you swallow down a hefty gulp of liquid courage, the burn of the alcohol sliding down your throat. You exhale, the feeling only adding to the flutter in your stomach.

"All right, my turn," you say, trying to steady your voice despite the flutter in your chest. "I've got a pretty good guess for you, too."

Zoro leans back slightly, raising an eyebrow with a smirk. "Alright, let's hear it," he replies, low and curiously, the challenge in his tone still present but tempered by an edge of amusement.

"I think..." you begin taking in his relaxed, more casual expression. It makes you smile, and you don't think about trying to hide it, either, "You're a big softie, and I think that you know it."

The  smile falls, and he looks almost surprised, like he wasn't expecting you to be so perceptive. But then, his eyes narrow, and his smirk returns, only with a flicker of something softer. "Oh, so we're gonna play like that, huh?" He chides, his playful act never faltering.

Mhm," you confirm with a nod and a sly grin. "Now answer the question, softie."

Zoro clicks his tongue in annoyance as he realizes you’ve caught him in a rare moment of vulnerability. He runs a hand through his hair, his chuckle low and almost reluctant.

“Dammit,” he mutters, shifting against the railing with a sigh. He falls silent, studying you in the dim light like he's weighing whether to keep up the act. His gaze softens just slightly as he exhales. “Alright, fine, you got me,” he admits, the words gruff but unavoidably sincere. “Guess I do have my moments.”

"Hey, there's nothing wrong with that," you note, tilting your head slightly and softening your tone, a playful glint in your eyes. You scoot a little closer, your inflection gentler now, as if you're letting him in on something only the two of you share. "Makes you human, you know? And honestly, it’s kinda... nice, seeing you let your guard down for once."

Zoro's lips twitch in response, a strange vulnerability in the way he responds to your words.

"Yeah, I guess it does," he replies, scratching the back of his head. He looks away as if embarrassed by the admission. "Still, I'm not about to go around announcing it to the world—I have an image to maintain, ya know."

You catch the flicker of that vulnerability, and the teasing smile on your lips softens just a bit. “Your secret is safe with me,” you assure him with a wink. “You can keep being the big, tough guy on deck, but I won’t spill.” You give him a playful nudge, your tone light but warm. “Now drink up, softie—let's see how long you can hold onto that image.”

Zoro lets out a rough laugh, the sound just a touch shaky, as if he's more affected by the moment than he'd like to let on. He takes the glass and tips it back, taking a long swallow. "All right, then. My turn to guess, huh?

A soft hum of amusement escapes your lips as you watch him drain the glass. "Mhm," you confirm with a nod, a small, satisfied smile on your face. "Let's see what you've got."

Zoro sets the glass down with a soft clink, his eyes locked on your face. A smirk twists at his lips, and he leans forward, resting his chin on his hand, his expression sharp and playful.

"I think..." he begins, his voice dropping slightly, "you're a lot more observant than you let on. You catch things that I wouldn't dream of, and sometimes, you just know what I'm thinking before I do. But, you're also pretty damn stubborn."

Your eyebrows arch at his observation, both impressed and slightly taken aback. It's eerily astute, and you know you can't deny it. With a sigh, you lean your head back and tilt your head toward with a wry smile.

"Oh? What kind of things do you notice that I catch?," you murmur, unable to hide the hint of surprise in your reaction. "And someone has to be stubborn to put up with you." You add with a tease.

Zoro chuckles, the sound low and throaty. He leans in close, a teasing smile on his lips. "Oh yeah? And who said I need putting up with?"

He tilts his head, studying your grin for a moment  before continuing. "You're smart," he remarks thoughtfully. "You pick up on things the rest of the crew doesn't, like when I'm irritated or when I'm lying. It's a pain in the ass."

The truth falling from his lips hits you hard, he feels genuine. Totally real and just honest with you right now. It dawns on you that Zoro lets you see him this way, and to deny the butterflies in your stomach would be a lie to the world.

"Leaves an impression though, yeah?" You force out, though the words are slightly sheepish. "I mean, we're here talking now, so you must like me enough to keep around."

Zoro's laugh is softer this time, a hint of something warm and almost fond in his expression.

"Yeah, I guess I do," he admits, shaking his head slightly. The night's quiet around you, except for the soft sound of the waves lapping against the hull. "You're stubborn and annoying as hell, but... yeah, I like you."

"I'm glad," you reply, letting the playful tease linger. You shift a little closer, your voice softening, but the warmth is still there. "It's nice 'putting up with you,' even if you make it way harder than it needs to be." You let out a small laugh, meeting his gaze with a fond smile. "But I guess someone has to deal with you, right?"

Zoro rolls his eyes playfully, as the gesture makes you giggle. "Yeah, yeah, yeah, don't get too cocky about it," he replies, a ghost of a smile on his lips.

But then there’s a stillness between you two. A quiet that feels different from the rest of the night. His attention lingers on you, the air thickening in a way that makes everything feel closer—heavier, more intimate.

You’re not sure when it happened, but suddenly, you’re sitting so close that you can feel the warmth of his body against yours. His breath brushes against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine as he tilts his head down, his eyes locking intently onto yours. He can’t help but notice how your presence seems to fill the space between, how the world around you fades to just the soft rhythm of your breathing, the quiet pulse of the moment.

Time seems to slow as your proximity to him registers fully. Zoro's heart skips a beat as he realizes how close you've gotten, the feel of your warm breath against his skin causing a shiver to race down his spine. Instinctively, he wants to pull back, to distance himself from this vulnerability, but something holds him in place.

Despite every instinct screaming at him to pull away, he finds himself stuck in place. Your proximity is intoxicating, making his heart race in his chest. And then, without a thought—pure impulse—he leans in.

His lips meet yours, firm and sure in a kiss that's both unexpected and exhilarating. The rest of the ship falls away, and now, it's just him and you, the alcohol loosening his inhibitions and fueling the fire that's been quietly building between you.

Zoro's hand moves almost on its own, reaching out to tangle in the soft strands of your hair, pulling you closer against him. The heat of the moment, fueled by the alcohol and the low thrum of tension that's always hung between you, is overwhelming. It feels both familiar and completely new, and his mind struggles to keep up with the onslaught of feeling.

It's slightly awkward, he isn't sure exactly what he's doing but gets the jest of it, the initial clumsiness rapidly melts away as he gets lost in the kiss. It's clear he's never been in this exact situation before, yet his instincts guide him as he lets himself be swept away by the moment.

His other hand moves to your waist, pulling you flush against him, the feel of your body against his suddenly more electrifying than anything he's ever felt.

As he pulls you against him, his arm wrapping around your waist, a low rumble of appreciation escapes his throat. The feeling of your body against his is electric in a way he's never experienced, the heat between you growing hotter with each passing moment. It's different from a fight, but the adrenaline feels just as battle would. 

He pulls away from you and there’s a beat of silence. The world seems to pause around you both, and for a moment, neither of you knows what to say. Zoro’s hand is still tangled in your hair, his fingers brushing lightly against your scalp as if he’s holding onto something grounding. His breath comes out in a shaky exhale, his eyes never leave yours and they’re flickering with something unreadable.

"I... I, uh..." he mutters, his words stumbling in a way that's completely out of character for him. The usually confident, aloof first mate is blushing like a damn tomato, and it makes something warm stir in your chest.

You can't help but smile, the cool night air doing little to quell the warmth spreading through you from that kiss. It's an unexpected, but not unwelcome, shift in the air between you. "It was nice," you say, your voice soft but steady, letting him know you're not about to make this more awkward than it already feels, "But I understand, we’re both probably a little... off balance right now."

Zoro glances at you, a flicker of relief in his eyes before he looks away again, clearly trying to regain some of his usual composure. "You... should probably get some sleep," he mutters, his gaze darting to the deck, clearly embarrassed by his own reaction.

You chuckle softly, though there's no judgment in it—just a quiet understanding. "Yeah... yeah, you're right. But no worries, I’m not going to hold it against you," you tease, the teasing lightness still there, but without any pressure. You're still floating somewhere between cloud nine and feeling completely grounded in the moment.

Zoro exhales, a little too sharply, before he slowly releases his grip on you, his hand drifting back to his side. There's a beat of silence as he clears his throat, looking sheepish for the first time tonight. It’s kind of cute, honestly.

"Here, let me..." he starts again, his words are rough but calmer than usual. "I’ll help get you to bed."

He reaches out for your hand, his fingers firm but careful as he takes it in his own. The gesture feels different now—gentler, more deliberate—and it makes your heart skip a beat. It’s endearing, how much he’s trying to be careful with you, and for once, it’s nice to see him not so sure of himself. You feel a little giddy, but you don’t pull away.

He guides you slowly across the deck, the atmosphere still charged with unspoken tension. As you walk, you can feel his gaze flick to you every so often, as if he's checking to make sure you're alright.

The sound of footsteps on the deck is the only break in the silence. Finally, you reach the door to your quarters, and Zoro stops, turning to face you.

He stands there, still holding your hand, clearly at a loss for what to do next. The low light catches his features in a way that makes him seem more vulnerable than usual, and for a brief moment, he seems unsure of himself—something you don’t see often. His mouth opens and closes as if he’s trying to find the right words but keeps getting stuck.

“You… you, uh, you get some sleep, okay?” His voice sounds softer than it’s ever been, a little awkward, sure,  but there’s a gentleness to it that you weren’t expecting. It's like he wants to make sure you're okay after everything.

You smile, your heart fluttering at how cute he's being. "You too, Zoro," you reply, squeezing his hand lovingly and flashing him a warm, sweet smile. “And happy birthday.”

Zoro’s face flushes a deeper shade of red, and his ears go a bit pink too. It's so obvious now how much the night has affected him. He quickly looks away, mumbling something too quiet for you to catch.

“Yeah, yeah,” he mutters, his demeanor a little gruff but still somehow tender. He glances at you again, then looks away quickly, embarrassed. “I’ll see you tomorrow, alright?.”

You give him one last smile before you turn to leave and Zoro watches you disappear into the room beyond, his heart beating a little faster than usual, and the warmth from your smile lingers with him long after you’ve disappeared into the night. He stands there for a while, staring at the spot where you were standing, and when he finally heads to his quarters, the usual brash first mate is nowhere to be found.

When he settles in his own bunk, Zoro's mind keeps replaying the moments with you. He can't help but smile—just a little, but it's there, soft and real. He lies in the dark, still feeling the warmth of your hand in his, and it brings an unfamiliar but comforting warmth to his chest. It’s not something he’s used to, but... it feels nice.

Zoro drifts off to sleep with a small, genuine smile still on his face, the first real one he’s had in a long time.

@tetzoro here is ur tag hehe

[ducktoo]

Love is War

[Irene x Reader]

Note: I….friggin….love….Kaguya-sama so much. It’s just a funny show to watch and I’ve wanted to make something inspired by them. I had a lot of fun with this.

TW: a lot of second handed embarrassment

(She’s kinda like Kaguya)

You sit across from Irene in the empty student council room, the evening light filtering through the tall windows, casting long shadows that add a layer of mystery to the already tension-filled silence. Irene is flipping through some papers, meticulously reading, yet somehow ignoring your presence. Her focus, as always, is sharp, precise — but you've noticed the subtle glances, the way her lips curl ever so slightly when she thinks you aren’t watching.

You lean back, determined to stay calm. After all, if you show any interest first, it’s game over. Irene is the president, elegant and controlled, respected and even a little feared. And you, as her vice-president, know every one of her mannerisms by now, but this silent tug-of-war — this feeling she hasn’t just caught your eye but your heart too — has been going on for months. But you’d never give her the satisfaction of saying it first.

“So,” you say, nonchalantly, “another meeting… just us, huh?” You emphasize the “us,” making sure it sounds casual enough to not raise suspicion.

She raises an eyebrow, not even glancing your way. “You’re the vice president, remember?” She flips to the next page. “Or did you forget why you’re here?”

Ouch.

But you can play it cool. “Just making conversation,” you reply with a smirk. “Not everyone spends hours in silence like you do, President.”

She finally looks up, her eyes sharp, and for a second, you’re caught in her gaze. This is all part of the game, you remind yourself. Whoever slips first, whoever lets their guard down, loses.

“I don’t mind silence,” she says with a smirk of her own. “Unless you’re uncomfortable?”

“Oh, of course not,” you scoff, leaning forward. “If anything, I think you’re the one struggling to keep it together.”

She narrows her eyes, amused. “You think I’d give in that easily?”

“I didn't say anything,” you tease and put both of your hands up in innocence. Though your heart's pounding, every word a risky gamble. “You seem pretty close to breaking. Maybe you’re just waiting for me to say something first.”

Irene tilts her head, a glint of mischief in her eyes. “It’s funny. You think you’ve got it all figured out.” She leans in, just close enough that you can feel the warmth of her presence. “But if you’re so certain of yourself, why haven’t you said anything either?”

The challenge is clear, and for a moment, you’re both silent, the air between you practically crackling. You’re staring at each other, each waiting for a sign of surrender, for that one misstep.

Just then, you notice her hand on the table, fingers lightly tapping. You reach out, instinctively, to still them, and in that moment, her eyes widen slightly, the faintest flicker of surprise betraying her usual composure. Your hands linger for a heartbeat longer than necessary, and you can feel your own face growing warm.

You pull away, breaking the silence with a chuckle, hoping to cover up your own slip. “Nice try,” you say. “But I’m not that easy to trick.”

She looks at you with an unreadable expression before her lips twitch into a soft smile — a genuine one, not her usual restrained, dignified expression. “I’ll admit, you’re a little harder to deal with than I thought,” she murmurs, almost to herself.

You raise an eyebrow, feeling a rush of victory. “So, you’re admitting I’m getting to you?”

Irene crosses her arms and raises a brow, leaning back in her chair as if sizing you up. “Well…since you’re so intent on making conversation, how about a game?”

You match her confident expression. “A game, huh? Alright, let’s hear it.”

She holds up her fingers, ticking off each word. “Twenty. Questions.”

The challenge is clear, and your eyes narrow as you smile. This is an opportunity. If you ask the right questions, you might get her to reveal something. “20 questions?"

“Yes,” she says, looking far too pleased with herself. “I’ll ask first.”

You nod, already strategizing your responses. There's no way she’ll get you to slip up.

“Alright,” Irene begins, her tone deceptively casual. “Are you… seeing anyone right now?”

You blink, but you manage a cool response. “No.”

She hums thoughtfully, tapping her chin. “Interesting. Your turn.”

“Are you seeing anyone right now?” you shoot back immediately, watching her for any reaction.

She raises an eyebrow, giving you a slow smile. “No. Next question: Do you have a… special someone in mind?”

Your face heats up, but you don’t let it show. You tilt your head, pretending to consider. “No,” you say, stretching the truth just a bit. “Do you?”

She smirks, but her answer is quick. “No.” There’s a spark in her eyes now, and you know she’s trying to rile you up. “Have you ever… spent an embarrassing amount of time thinking about someone without realizing it?”

You narrow your eyes. She’s getting clever with these questions. “No,” you lie, feeling like she’s closing in. “But have you ever been caught staring at someone and couldn’t look away?”

Her smirk falters for a split second, but she recovers quickly. “No.”

The room feels charged with each back-and-forth. Neither of you wants to back down, and every question seems to dig just a little deeper, as if you’re both trying to pry open a box that’s already bursting at the seams.

Irene leans forward, her eyes glittering. “Do you… think about me when you’re alone?”

The question catches you off guard, but you’re not about to let her win. “No,” you reply, keeping your expression neutral. “Do you think about me?”

Her lips twitch, almost into a smile, and her answer is a soft, measured, “No.”

There’s a beat of silence, and you’re sure she’s lying. But you’ve both committed to the game, and there’s no turning back now.

You decide to turn up the heat. “Have you ever wondered… what it would be like if you and I were… something more?”

Irene’s eyes widen slightly, and for a fraction of a second, you see a crack in her calm exterior. “No,” she replies, but the tiny hesitation is enough to make your heart race.

“Are you sure?” you press, grinning.

“Yes,” she snaps, recovering her poise with a steely look. “Absolutely sure.”

You can’t help but laugh, sensing her annoyance. But she doesn’t let you revel in it for long.

“Do you get jealous if I talk to other people?” she asks, raising an eyebrow challengingly.

“No,” you answer immediately, fighting the urge to look away.

Irene chuckles, clearly unimpressed. “Liar.”

Your cheeks warm, but you keep your gaze steady. “Sure, like you’re any better,” you say. “Have you ever gotten jealous seeing me with someone else?”

She narrows her eyes, leaning just a bit closer. “No.”

There’s a pause, tension thick in the air. Both of you know the series of no are getting less and less convincing, but neither of you is willing to back down.

Then, Irene clears her throat, her voice softer than before. “Alright, last question. And you have to be completely honest.”

You nod, bracing yourself. “Fine. Go ahead.”

She looks you dead in the eye, her expression unreadable. “Do you… feel anything special for me?”

Your heart pounds, the air between you both thick with unsaid words. You can feel every second stretching, every fiber of your being shouting to say something, anything other than—

“No.”

Irene’s eyes widen, and for a moment, her carefully guarded expression slips, replaced with something almost vulnerable. But she recovers, her smirk returning, even if it’s a little shaky.

“Good,” she says, trying to sound indifferent. “Neither do I.”

You both sit in silence, staring at each other, knowing you’ve just lied through your teeth and realizing that you’re both too stubborn to admit it.

But then Irene leans back, her smirk shifting into a resigned smile. “Well,” she says, standing up, her voice teasing, “it seems we’re both in the clear, then. No one’s losing anything here.”

You watch her walk toward the door, and before she leaves, she glances over her shoulder, her eyes holding yours for just a second too long.

“Good night,” she says softly, with a smile that tells you maybe, just maybe, she’s as frustrated as you are.

“Good night,” you manage to reply, watching her leave, and for the first time, wondering if this game is even worth playing if it means you’ll never actually win.

-

Back in your dorm room, you close the door and let out a long, frustrated groan. You’d spent the entire day locked in a ridiculous back-and-forth with Irene, trying to make her slip up, but "nooo", she had to be as stubborn as ever. You throw yourself onto your bed, grabbing your pillow and thrashing around in irritation.

“‘No,’” you mutter to yourself, mimicking Irene’s voice in the most exaggerated tone possible. “'No, I never get jealous, no, I never think about you, no, I have no feelings whatsoever!’” You yank the pillow over your face and yell into it, hoping it’ll somehow drain the frustration boiling over inside you.

“GET OUT OF MY HEAD BAE JOOHYUN!”

-

Meanwhile, across campus, Irene is pacing in her room, arms crossed tightly over her chest. Every step she takes sounds like she’s trying to stomp a hole into the floor. She mutters angrily to herself, face contorted in a mix of anger and — if she were to admit it — embarrassment.

“‘Do you think about me when you’re alone?’” she scoffs, doing her best impression of your voice, throwing her hands up in the air. “Absolutely not, why would I?” She frowns, blushing despite herself. “As if I’d be the first one to say anything anyway!”

She huffs and, in a rare moment of unchecked frustration, grabs her textbook off her desk and slams it down, a futile attempt to squash the annoyance bubbling inside her. She’s never felt so embarrassed — or so irritated that she can’t stop thinking about you.

“No,” she grumbles to herself again, as if the more times she says it, the more true it’ll become. “I am Bae Joohyun…why would I fall for you?”

-

Back in your room, you’ve started pacing now too, every nerve on edge. You catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, your face twisted in frustration, and throw your hands up. “This is ridiculous! I don’t even care!” You stomp over to your desk, slamming your hands down like it might somehow snap you out of this bizarre Irene-fueled haze.

“Of all the people I had to like,” you grumble, throwing yourself back on your bed, arms flailing dramatically, “it had to be the one shortie who won’t admit anything!”

-

Meanwhile, Irene’s found herself in a similar scene, on her bed, legs kicking the mattress in frustration. “And that kid KNOWS what they’re doing,” she says, voice muffled by the pillow she’s now buried her face in. “Just sitting there with that smug little smile, asking all those RIDICULOUS questions like they didn’t care one bit!” She lets out a loud, frustrated sigh, tossing her pillow across the room.

It’s not even five minutes before she stands, determined to shake off the restless energy building inside her, and starts pacing her room again. Each step lands with heavy frustration. She mutters under her breath, trying to convince herself: “It’s not a big deal. This is… nothing. And they were obviously lying anyway, just to mess with me. I mean, why would they ask those things unless they were trying to make me crack?”

-

At the same time, you’re staring up at your ceiling, arms crossed, muttering to yourself. “She just has to be so stubborn,” you say, voice heavy with annoyance.

“Every single answer, every question — it’s like she’s actually trying to lose her mind on purpose!” You cover your face with your hands, shaking your head. “But no, she’s just too proud to admit she feels anything.”

-

In the end, both of you spend the next hour or so in almost synchronized frustration — you, rolling around on your bed, groaning loudly every few minutes, and Irene, sighing dramatically and flopping from one end of her bed to the other, trying not to think about how much it bothers her that you refuse to admit anything either.

It’s only when you both wear yourselves out from the mutual thrashing and muttering that a sense of calm settles, leaving you both sprawled on your beds, staring at the ceiling, each lost in thoughts of the other.

But even in the quiet, both of you have the same thought lingering, echoing annoyingly in your minds:

“Why can’t they just confess already?”

“Why can’t she just confess already?”

-

The next morning, you drag yourself into the student council room, feeling the weight of sleep deprivation clinging to your eyelids like cement. You glance at the clock — 8:15 AM. You’ve barely gotten any sleep, and it shows. Your eyes are bloodshot, your hair’s a mess, and every step feels like it’s being weighed down by the universe itself.

You slump into your usual chair, rubbing your face. The room is eerily quiet, save for the faint hum of the fluorescent lights. No one else is here yet — except for Irene, sitting in her usual spot across from you, who seems just as disheveled as you feel. Her hair’s a little frizzy, and her posture is slumped like she might collapse at any moment.

You exchange a tired glance. Neither of you says anything. There's no point in it. It’s obvious you both didn’t sleep well, and it’s all because of that ridiculous game.

"Morning," Irene mutters, sounding less like herself than usual, her voice hoarse and low.

You nod. “Morning. Did you… sleep at all?”

She gives a small shake of her head, eyes slightly glazed. “…No.”

You groan. “Same.”

“I can tell,” she says, voice tinged with equal frustration.

You both fall into an exhausted silence, but just as the tension begins to build between you once again, the door creaks open. Seulgi, the treasurer, strides in, bouncing on her feet as usual, though today she seems extra chipper — like she’s somehow been recharged by a full night of sleep, which you both desperately lack.

She beams at you both. “Good morning, my higher ups! You two look like you barely survived the night.”

“Thanks for the observation,” you mutter sarcastically, leaning back in your chair, trying to ignore the painful throb in your skull.

Seulgi raises an eyebrow, clearly sensing the tense energy in the room. “You guys didn’t get any sleep, did you?” she teases, looking between the two of you. “Too busy scheming with each other, huh?”

Irene gives Seulgi a deadpan stare. “We don’t need your commentary, Kang Seulgi.”

Seulgi shrugs, unfazed. “Okay, okay, no need to get defensive. You two need a distraction.”

With that, Seulgi pulls a small notepad from her bag, flipping it open with dramatic flair. “Let’s play Would You Rather,” she announces, practically jumping into the chair beside Irene.

You blink at her, too exhausted to even care about the idea of playing another game. But Seulgi’s already too deep into her plans to let you escape.

“Would you rather,” Seulgi starts, voice rising in enthusiasm, “have the ability to read anyone’s mind, but only while they’re eating something, or be able to talk to animals, but only in a language they don’t understand?”

You glance at Irene, already half-suspecting she’s not going to entertain this nonsense, but to your surprise, she lets out a small sigh and leans in, trying to humor Seulgi. “The animals. No contest.”

“Really?” you ask, raising an eyebrow. “Why?”

“Because I could ask a certain bear to stop stealing my snacks,” Irene mutters, eyes narrowing like she’s speaking from personal experience.

"I know nothing" Seulgi whistled and looked away, feigning ignorance.

You chuckle, despite yourself, because somehow that seems oddly relatable. But Seulgi’s not done yet.

“Okay, next one!” Seulgi says, flipping her page. “Would you rather always know when someone’s lying, but it makes you physically ill, or never know when someone’s lying, but it makes you constantly question everything?”

Irene shoots you a look, probably knowing where this is going. You tap your chin dramatically.

“I’ll go with the first one,” you say, your tone dripping with sarcasm. “I already get physically ill just dealing with you.”

Irene doesn’t miss a beat. “I’m starting to think you might be lying about that,” she retorts, a small grin playing at the corner of her mouth.

Seulgi, clearly loving this back-and-forth, just grins wider. “Alright, now for the real fun one…”

You both exchange a look of dread.

“Would you rather,” Seulgi pauses for dramatic effect, “have to sing every time you want to communicate, but only in opera, or be unable to speak at all and only express yourself through interpretive dance?”

You both sit there, silent for a moment, processing the absurdity of the question. Then, without missing a beat, Irene responds, deadpan, “I’d go with interpretive dance. At least it’s not opera.”

You stare at her in disbelief. “You would dance? For everything? For your class presentations?”

She shrugs. “I mean, it would be easier than singing opera in front of the entire school.”

You scoff, leaning back in your chair. “I’d rather sing opera. It’s at least... dignified.”

Seulgi looks between the two of you, laughing to herself as if she’s witnessing the world's most ridiculous standoff. “Okay, okay, one last one. Would you rather accidentally confess your feelings to the entire school, but the person you like doesn’t hear, or have to live your life with a giant embarrassing secret that no one knows except you?”

You freeze. Irene’s gaze flicks to yours, and for a brief, horrifying moment, it feels like the entire world has just turned its spotlight on you both.

Seulgi’s watching, clearly loving the discomfort she’s causing.

“I—” you start, but then you hesitate. “I’d rather have the secret,” you say quickly, then add, “I mean, I don’t want to confess in front of everyone!”

Irene laughs — a soft, almost bitter laugh — and answers quickly, “I’d pick the same thing. Secrets are easier to deal with than... that.”

You both stare at each other, and for once, the silence between you doesn’t feel as tense as before. In fact, it’s almost like... you’ve just admitted something without even trying.

But Seulgi, ever the expert at reading the room, lets out a dramatic sigh. “You two are impossible,” she says, shaking her head in mock disappointment. “But at least we had fun.”

Irene and you exchange a glance. Neither of you says anything, but the hint of something unspoken lingers in the air. Something that wasn’t quite said in the game, but was definitely felt.

“You know,” you mutter, standing up and stretching, “next time, we’re just playing chess.”

Seulgi grins, already plotting her next absurd question. “You got it. But just so you know,” she winks, “I’m totally adding opera to the rules.”

Irene shoots you a look as if to say, See? This is your fault.

And for once, you can’t help but laugh.

-

A few months pass, and life in the student council room has somehow become a bizarre, ongoing comedy show. You and Irene continue your ridiculous push-and-pull game, each day a new round of Who Will Crack First?. Neither of you has budged an inch, and yet neither of you has let up on the passive-aggressive scheming either.

It’s as if you’re both living in some weird, never-ending loop of “will they, won’t they” — and it’s driving everyone around you absolutely mad.

Seulgi, who’s practically an expert at this point in navigating the absurdity of your interactions, has given up trying to intervene. She now finds it hilarious, often leaning back in her chair with a smug smile as she watches the two of you exchange cryptic looks and challenge each other with passive-aggressive “Would You Rather” questions.

One particularly awful morning, Irene walks in wearing her usual perfectly put-together look — except today, her blazer is slightly askew, her hair a little more chaotic than usual. She’s clearly been running on no sleep, but as always, she gives you a pointed, unamused look when you glance at her.

“Not today,” she mutters, sounding exhausted, and collapses into her chair with a sigh.

You blink. “What’s wrong with you?”

“I’m tired of you,” she snaps back, without hesitation.

You sit up straighter, a smirk tugging at your lips. “Oh? So you admit it now?”

Her head whips to face you. “I didn’t admit anything, you idiot.”

“Right, right. Of course not.” You lean back in your chair, arms crossed, trying to play it cool, but inside you can feel a small victory bubbling up.

Yes, you’re getting to her. Keep going.

Before you can continue your “I’m always right” victory lap in your mind, Seulgi enters, holding an envelope in her hands.

“Good morning, everyone!” Seulgi greets, sliding into her chair and tossing the envelope onto the desk in front of you. “Got this for you,” she says, looking far too pleased with herself.

You blink at it. “What’s this?”

Seulgi leans forward, grinning. “Well, someone (ahem, our vice-president) just got accepted for the student exchange program. With a full scholarship, no less.”

You freeze, staring at the envelope as if it might suddenly burst into flames. It takes a moment for the words to fully process in your tired brain, but when they do — you can’t help but feel a mix of disbelief and excitement.

“Wait… you’re kidding,” you mutter, flipping the envelope open. Sure enough, it’s real. You’ve been accepted into the program — and with a scholarship at that. You can barely wrap your head around it, the magnitude of it overwhelming. A chance to study abroad? This is huge.

"I MADE IT MOM!!!" You shouted, as loud as you just won a well fought war.

Irene, however, is not as happy for you. She glares at the envelope, as though it’s personally offended her. “Congratulations,” she says, her tone dripping with sarcasm.

You grin, almost smugly. “Thanks, Pres. I’m going to study abroad! How cool is that?”

“Right, so you’ll be gone for how long?” Irene’s voice has a sharp edge to it, and you know instantly that something’s bothering her.

“I’m not sure,” you say, waving it off, still too distracted by the possibility of it all. “Maybe six months? Maybe more. It’s exciting, right?”

Irene doesn’t respond. Instead, she leans back in her chair, arms crossed, staring at you with an unreadable expression. Her lips are pressed together like she’s holding something in.

“You know,” you say, enjoying the rare moment of feeling like you actually have the upper hand, “maybe you should congratulate me properly. This is a big deal.”

She gives you a sharp look. “I don’t congratulate people who act like they’re already the best at everything.”

“Oh, please,” you laugh, “that’s not even true. We both know you’re just upset that you won’t get to have your daily dose of me tormenting you.”

Irene narrows her eyes, leaning forward like she’s about to bite back with something absolutely scathing. But instead, she just sighs. “Fine. Congratulations. I’m sure you’ll do great. Now, I’ll just go back to pretending you aren’t about to abandon me for six months.”

You blink, caught off guard by her sudden change in attitude. It’s almost like she’s… jealous? No, that can’t be right.

“Wait,” you say, your voice sounding strangely unsure, “you’re mad?”

She raises an eyebrow, looking at you like you're the dumbest person alive. “What do you think, Einstein?”

“Are you actually mad that I’m going abroad?” You almost can’t believe you’re asking. This is a new level of absurdity. She’s always acted like she doesn’t care about anything — least of all you.

Her response comes in the form of a heavy sigh, followed by her leaning back again with a dramatic thud into her chair. “I just don’t get it,” she mutters, staring at the ceiling like it’s the most tragic thing in the world. “One moment you’re here, annoying the hell out of me, and then poof — off to some other country like it’s no big deal.”

“Is that jealousy?” you ask, incredulous. “Pres, is that—”

“No!” She snaps immediately. “I’m just annoyed that you’ve been torturing me for months, and now you’re going to vanish, leaving me alone with Seulgi’s stupid games and that.”

You look at Seulgi, who’s grinning at the back-and-forth with a cup of coffee in her hand like she’s watching a reality TV show unfold before her. “I’m just here for the drama,” Seulgi mumbles under her breath, casually sipping her coffee.

“See?” Irene gestures to Seulgi. “I’m stuck here with this.”

“Well, if it’s any consolation, I’m just as confused as you are,” you joke, tapping the envelope on the table, “since it looks like I’m leaving you here to suffer alone with your secrets.”

Irene glares at you. “Stop talking about my secrets. It’s not like you even have any.”

You grin, sensing that you’ve touched a nerve. “Oh, I do, don’t worry. Just waiting for you to—”

“Stop talking.” Irene snaps, her voice so sharp it’s almost a threat.

The tension in the room is so thick you could cut it with a knife, but you don’t know whether to laugh or just keep pushing her buttons. It’s getting harder and harder to tell if she’s frustrated because of your “secret” or if it’s just the ever-present game you two have been playing for months.

Seulgi, clearly sensing the climax of your endless drama, looks between you both with a smirk. “You two are ridiculous,” she says, sipping her coffee and savoring the war, like a general on the side watching her neighbouring countries fight.

And as always, you and Irene stay locked in your little game — still stubborn, still not admitting anything, but both of you a tiny bit more frustrated than before. You can’t help but laugh, even though you’re not quite sure whether it’s from the excitement of the exchange program or the absurdity of your constant back-and-forth with Irene.

One thing’s for sure — you may be leaving soon, but the game will never truly end.

-

The days leading up to your final day at school felt like a drawn-out episode of Who Will Break First?.

The tension between you and Irene was palpable, like two magnets trying to repel each other while secretly waiting for the other to snap. It was absurd, and yet, you couldn’t help but be thrilled by the idea of ending this ridiculous game once and for all.

The exchange program was looming on the horizon, and you were determined to win this war — no more games, no more indirect jabs. One of you was going to finally confess, and it would be grand. You weren’t just going to do it quietly or casually.

Oh no. You had bigger plans.

Way bigger plans.

You could practically feel the dramatic music building in your head as you sat in the student council room, staring at the whiteboard, mapping out your elaborate scheme. It had to be perfect, a moment so spectacular that Irene would have no choice but to confess. You had one chance, and it had to be memorable.

The idea? A scavenger hunt.

But not just any scavenger hunt. A scavenger hunt for the heart.

“How can I make it even more dramatic?” you muttered to yourself, looking over your ridiculous list of clues and challenges. Every challenge would lead Irene closer to her inevitable fate — confessing her feelings, of course. But it couldn’t be too obvious. You had to make it like a game, because she would never confess otherwise. She was too proud.

You could already hear the sound of her internal monologue: I can’t let them get away with this. I’ll show them I’m not some softy.

Little did she know, you were about to turn this into the most obnoxiously grand gesture ever.

The next day, you casually walk into the student council room, where Irene is sitting at her desk, looking as stoic as usual. Her hair is perfect (obviously), and she’s in the middle of filling out some form that looks like it was written in some ancient bureaucratic language.

“Good morning, Pres.” you say nonchalantly, as if nothing is out of the ordinary.

She barely glances up at you, just giving a quick nod. “Morning,” she mutters, not even bothering to make eye contact.

Perfect. The stage was set.

“You ready for the game today?” you ask casually, leaning over to get a peek at her papers.

Her eyebrow twitches slightly. “What game?”

“The game,” you say dramatically, “The scavenger hunt. The ultimate scavenger hunt.”

Irene freezes. “What?”

You grin, feeling the thrill of your scheme starting to take effect. “It’s simple, really. I’ve set up a series of clues around the campus. Each one will lead you to the next, until you finally reach your destination. And guess what? You’re the only one who can participate. No one else is allowed.”

Irene stares at you as if you just suggested she run a marathon in high heels. “A scavenger hunt? Are you serious?”

“Yes.” You give her an exaggeratedly dramatic nod. “You’re going to love it. Each clue is going to lead you to a place that’s important to us. You’ll figure it out. Eventually.”

She blinks, clearly confused. “And what’s the point of this ridiculous hunt?”

“The point is,” you say, leaning in like you’re about to share the world’s greatest secret, “by the end of it, you’ll finally admit that you can’t stand it anymore and you will…”

You paused for a moment “…confess your feelings for me.”

Irene’s face is completely deadpan. “You’re out of your mind.”

But she’s intrigued. You can tell.

“Okay, okay. I’ll bite. Where do I start?” Irene asks, crossing her arms with that same defiant, no-nonsense look that always drives you insane.

You hand her the first clue, which is written in ridiculously dramatic handwriting. “Go to the place where it all started,” you say, practically bouncing in your chair, “You know, where we first met. Good luck.”

Irene glares at you for a second before unfolding the note. Her eyes scan it quickly. She’s already halfway out of her seat when she mutters, “This is so stupid.”

And off she goes.

What she doesn’t realize is that you’ve set up each clue in the most bizarre and over-the-top way possible.

The first stop is the fountain near the school entrance. But it’s not just a simple clue — oh no. You’ve surrounded the fountain with floating balloons that spell out “LOVE,” because you’re subtle like that. Next to the fountain, there’s a big, obnoxious banner that says, “First step to confessing your feelings: stop running away from the truth.”

When Irene arrives, she looks at it, rolls her eyes so hard you think they might get stuck, but follows the instructions anyway.

“Ridiculous,” she mutters, lifting the balloon with one hand and searching for the next clue.

Next, the clue leads her to the library — but not just any section of the library. It’s the aisle where you first bumped into her accidentally (totally not planned) on that fateful day. The shelf is stacked with books on love and confession. (Of course, you also made sure the most embarrassing ones were in plain sight.)

By the time she reaches the next clue, which is hidden inside a cookie jar in the student lounge, she’s had enough. “This is the worst thing you’ve ever done,” she says under her breath as she rips open the paper and immediately glares at the next clue.

It’s just one word: Confess.

Irene stares at the note for a solid minute, as though she’s trying to will it to self-destruct. “This is… absurd.”

She’s so close now. You’re practically jumping out of your seat, grinning so wide you’re certain she can hear the smugness radiating off you.

The final stop is, of course, the student council room. You’ve cleared out all the other council members and arranged the room like an oddly romantic restaurant, complete with candles (yes, real candles, because you’re extra) and a giant cardboard cutout of the two of you from a school event that she’ll definitely recognize.

“I swear to god, if you’ve done anything worse than this, I’ll…” Irene trails off as she steps into the room, eyes widening at the display.

You cross your arms. “Well?”

“Are you really going to make me do this?” she asks, her voice dangerously calm.

You grin, barely containing your excitement. “I think it’s about time, don’t you?”

Irene looks at you, deadpan as usual. “You’re impossible.”

You wait, your heart practically beating out of your chest.

She doesn’t say anything. The silence stretches for a few seconds, and just when you think she’s going to snap — she sighs. “Fine.”

She’s this close.

She takes a deep breath, looking you straight in the eye, and says in the most dramatically deadpan voice possible:

“I hate you.”

And just like that, you snap.

“WHAT?!”

“I said I hate you.” Irene smiles smugly, enjoying every second of your frustration. “But I think you’re kind of an idiot. And I’m sort of impressed by your sheer lack of self-awareness. So, confession done.”

You stand there, utterly flabbergasted.

“That’s not a confession!” you shout.

“I didn’t say it was a good one,” Irene retorts, crossing her arms. “But at least I win.”

And with that, you both realize — you’ve just played yourselves.

As Irene starts walking away, her smug expression plastered on her face, you stand there, still stunned, your heart hammering in your chest. You had come so close to victory — and then she just dropped the bomb on you like it was nothing.

I hate you.

What kind of confession was that? Sure, it was dramatic, but it was barely even close to what you had in mind!

But something in your chest tightens. You can’t let this end like this. No way. You won’t let her get away with this. Not when you’re so close

You take one step forward. Then another. You’re walking after her now, and you can feel the heat rising in your face as you approach. The whole scene plays out like a movie, but not the cool action kind of movie. No, this is a slow-motion trainwreck happening in real time.

“I—” You stop yourself. What the hell am I doing?

Irene turns around, still smirking as if she just hit you with the world’s greatest comeback. “What? Did you come to call me an idiot again?”

“No! I mean—YES, but—” You flounder, trying to hold on to whatever shred of dignity you still have. She raises an eyebrow.

“I can’t believe this is happening,” you mutter, realizing that at this point, the only way to salvage your pride is to act like you meant this all along.

You take a deep breath, already feeling the cringe crawl up your spine. “I—I think I like you. A lot.”

You don’t stop there. No. That would be too easy.

“Bae Joohyun, I think... I think I’ve liked you for a long time, and... and this whole thing, the games, the scavenger hunts, the balloons... it’s been ridiculous and stupid and—”

Your voice cracks, and you internally scream. This is so embarrassing. Why did I think this would work against the Ice Queen?

Irene just stands there, her smirk faltering for the first time. “Wait—are you—”

“Yes! I—yes! I like you, okay?” you blurt out, and then immediately want to crawl into a hole and disappear forever. “Like, really like you. More than I can even explain. And maybe I don’t always show it, and maybe I’m not the best at this, but I’ve spent so long trying to... uh... win this stupid confession game, and now I’m realizing that I... don’t care about that anymore. I just want you to know that I like you—like, like you—and I’m tired of pretending I don’t!”

There’s a moment of silence. You stand there, your face glowing with humiliation, hands clenched at your sides, waiting for Irene to react. You almost can’t bear to look at her. You can feel the awkwardness radiating between you like a thick cloud, and it’s so heavy that it might as well be an actual physical presence.

Irene doesn’t say anything at first, just stares at you with wide eyes. Then she opens her mouth, and you hold your breath, half-expecting her to laugh in your face or walk away.

Instead, she says, “...Are you... done?”

You blink rapidly, still trying to process her words. “What?”

“Are you done?” she repeats, her voice more amused than anything else. “Because that was about the most painfully awkward thing I’ve ever witnessed. I mean, are you seriously this bad at confessing?”

Your face turns bright red, and you immediately want to crawl under a desk and live there for the rest of eternity. “I—No! I mean... Yes, I am. I just... I don’t know how to do this! It’s like every time I try, I keep making it worse, and now I’m... I’m...”

You throw your hands up in exasperation. “I’m just going to shut up now.”

Irene crosses her arms, watching you with a mixture of amusement and exasperation. “So, what exactly are you expecting from me now? A confession back? Do you want me to one-up you with some dramatic gesture too?”

The secondhand embarrassment is reaching a point where you feel like you might die from sheer awkwardness. “I—”

“Well, guess what?” she interrupts, her expression softening just slightly. “You’re not the only one who’s bad at confessing, you know.” She pauses, letting the words sink in. ���I’m just better at pretending I don’t care.”

Your eyes widen. Wait. What?

“You’ve been so obvious for so long. But you’re... you’re a mess,” she says, voice dropping into something a little more serious now. “And I didn’t want to be the one to make the first move. I didn’t want to admit it either.”

Your brain short-circuits. “Wait, so... you—”

She gives a dramatic sigh and steps toward you. “I’m just saying,” she continues, “You’re such an idiot. And I can’t believe it took this long for you to get a clue.”

And then, out of nowhere, she leans forward and kisses you.

For a moment, everything stops. Your brain ceases to function as you try to process what just happened.

It takes about five seconds before you realize that you’ve been kissed, and another five seconds to realize that you’re staring at her wide-eyed, as if this were the most confusing thing to ever happen to you. But you’re also feeling like you might pass out from sheer shock.

As Irene pulls away from the kiss, you’re still standing there, completely shell-shocked. Your head is spinning, the words in your mind tumbling over each other, and your whole body is shaking like a leaf. You can’t believe what just happened — you’d been playing this ridiculous back-and-forth for so long, and now it was finally over.

Sort of.

Irene looks entirely too smug for someone who just outplayed you at your own game. “Well, that was definitely a moment, wasn’t it?”

Your mouth opens and closes, but you’re too dumbfounded to say anything remotely intelligent. You can feel your cheeks burning with embarrassment, your brain still processing the fact that she kissed you like it was some kind of casual Tuesday.

“Um... can I... can I just...?” you trail off, desperately trying to regain your composure, but it’s like trying to catch a greased pig.

Irene, on the other hand, seems completely unaffected, smirking as she watches you fumble. “What? Are you still processing it, or...?”

But before you can even think of a response, you hear it.

A very loud click.

Both you and Irene freeze at the sound, and the two of you turn towards the source of the noise. And there, standing a few feet away, is Seulgi — grinning like a cat who just got into the cream.

“Oh, this is rich,” Seulgi says, holding up her phone. “Vice president, you really should’ve told me you were planning on doing a ‘confession’ scene. I thought I was going to have to orchestrate this myself, but lucky for me, I had a feeling something like this would go down.”

“No...” you mutter, feeling the blood drain from your face. “No, no, no. Did you seriously just—?”

“Oh, you bet I did,” Seulgi replies with a grin so wide it should be illegal. She’s clearly enjoying every second of this. “You two have been at this for months. I was just waiting for the moment when one of you would finally break. And I caught it all on video!”

You can feel the panic rising in your chest. “Kang Seulgi, no! You—You can’t—”

She takes a few steps closer, completely unfazed by your distress. “Oh, don’t worry. I won’t post it... yet,” she says. “But let’s just say I also have some... interesting footage that could influence your future decisions.”

“Seulgi, you wouldn’t,” Irene warns, her voice uncharacteristically soft.

“Oh, I would,” Seulgi chirps, tapping away on her phone, her fingers flying over the screen. “I have all the juicy bits. You two were so painfully obvious, I might just have enough material for a whole documentary about your embarrassing little love war.”

(She said the title card! Don’t sue me thank you)

You turn to Irene, a look of pure despair on your face. “Please tell me this is not happening.”

“I swear to God, Seulgi, if you even think about blackmailing us...” Irene starts, but then her eyes flicker to the phone in Seulgi’s hand. She hesitates, realizing there’s really no way to undo this.

“Oh, I’m just kidding,” Seulgi says suddenly, and you almost collapse in relief, but then she adds, “Mostly.”

“What do you mean, mostly?” you ask, now suspicious.

Seulgi just looks between the two of you, her grin only growing wider. “Well, I was going to use this footage to make you two suffer with some embarrassing compilation videos... but honestly? It’s more fun to watch you both squirm. You’re so pathetically obvious, it’s hilarious.”

You groan and throw your hands up in exasperation. “I can’t believe this. Of course, Seulgi would have been lurking in the shadows, ready to capture every moment.”

Irene, meanwhile, takes a deep breath and glances at the phone again, looking more irritated than ever. “You better not show this to anyone. Or I will make your life a living nightmare.”

“Oh please,” Seulgi says, tapping the screen. “I’m just going to enjoy watching you two suffer in peace for now. But you know, if you’re ever interested in... making a deal... I’m all ears.”

Irene crosses her arms, giving Seulgi a death glare. “You really want to start blackmailing THE president and vice president of the student council? Don’t forget, I have connections.”

Seulgi raises her hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright, I’ll back off... for now. But let’s just say, I’ll be keeping my eyes open. You two are so obvious.”

As Seulgi walks away, still chuckling to herself, you and Irene stand there, completely defeated.

You’re both speechless.

“I can’t believe this,” you mutter again, this time to Irene, who’s clearly just as done with the situation as you are. “I swear, Seulgi is too much.”

Irene lets out a long sigh and places a hand over her face, as if trying to hide her sheer embarrassment. “This is never going to be over, is it?”

You shake your head. “Nope. I’m stuck with this for life.”

“I don’t think I can show my face at school tomorrow,” Irene admits, finally letting out a little laugh despite herself.

“Same,” you reply, feeling the humiliation deep in your bones. “I’m going to pretend I’m sick. I’ll fake an injury. I’ll fake... I don’t know, something.”

“You should,” Irene agrees, “and I’ll be right there with you. The entire school will know about our ‘confession’ before lunch.”

There’s a brief silence between you both, and then, at the same time, you both erupt into groans of frustration and turned away from each other.

“This is why I hate you.”

“This is why I hate you,” Irene replies, her voice thick with secondhand embarrassment.

And there it is — the grand culmination of months of tension, teasing, and awkward games. And it ended up with you both being caught on video, standing like two idiots while Seulgi secretly enjoyed every moment of it.

Today’s result: Both lost (even with a fcking kiss)

-

The week after you left for the exchange program felt like a blur for you — the excitement, the new environment, and the unfamiliar routines made everything feel like a whirlwind.

But back at school, Irene was in a much different place.

Every day, Seulgi would come to school with a new glint in her eyes, a mischievous smile tugging at her lips, and a phone hidden somewhere on her person. She wasn’t as sneaky as she thought; Irene could spot her from a mile away, and each time, she’d smirk to herself.

“I swear, you’re enjoying this way too much, Bae Joohyun” Irene would mutter, though the grin never left her face.

And why wouldn’t she? Each time Seulgi presented her with another batch of pictures — snapshots from the infamous day of the confession — Irene’s heart would flutter in the most embarrassing way.

There was the one of you, mid-sentence, as you tried to pull off your grand declaration. Your face was a perfect mix of awkwardness and desperation, eyes wide as you blurted out the confession.

The best part? The expression on your face was so utterly panicked that it made Irene burst into a fit of giggles every time she looked at it.

Then there was the one of you standing there, your hands raised in dramatic surrender, as Seulgi’s camera flashed. Your face was a blend of mortification and determination. Irene would often catch herself replaying that moment in her head — how precious you looked, fighting so hard for that confession you never thought you’d be able to get out.

But the one that made her giddy the most was a candid shot — one taken right after the kiss. It wasn’t a perfect picture by any means, but there you were, lips still pink from the kiss, standing in complete shock as Irene pulled away with that smug smile plastered across her face. You looked like you’d just been struck by lightning…

…and Irene was absolutely in love with the image.

Every time she glanced at it, she could feel the warmth in her chest, the little skip in her heartbeat.

But the real kicker? The deal she made with Seulgi.

“If you promise to keep these between us... and not use them as leverage against me,” Irene had said one day, as Seulgi grinned with her phone in hand, “then maybe... just maybe... you’ll get something in return.”

Seulgi had raised an eyebrow. “And what exactly are we talking about here?”

Irene’s eyes glinted mischievously. “The ‘one’ photo you really want. The one where I’m looking adorably happy in front of that dork. I’ll give it to you... for a price.”

“Deal,” Seulgi said instantly, knowing exactly which picture Irene was talking about — the one of her, holding her phone with a soft smile, staring at all the pictures of you. The one where the subtle joy in her eyes was enough to make Seulgi’s heart melt.

And that, of course, meant that Irene had the perfect little “deal” in her pocket. She now had the ultimate keepsake of her vice president and all those memories of their relationship’s unspoken history — one that no one else would ever know about. Not just the hilarious moments, the embarrassment, or even the kiss itself, but the sweetness of it all — tucked away in her phone, a secret only for her to see.

The first time you sent her a message after you’d arrived at your exchange program, she stared at her phone for a moment longer than necessary, then quickly typed back:

“I miss you already. Do you remember that day?”

She hit send before she could overthink it. Almost immediately, she received a reply.

“Of course I do, Joohyun.” you texted. “How could I forget? My life will forever be haunted by that day, thanks to Seulgi.”

Irene couldn’t help but chuckle, a small smile tugging at her lips.

“I’m not letting you forget. I’ll be keeping all the best pictures. After all, I did get the perfect shot,” she teased, her fingers flying over her phone.

“You wouldn’t dare...” you wrote back, but Irene could tell you were joking. Your words were playful, the tone light.

“I would,” she replied, sending a winky face along with the message. She then paused, allowing herself to enjoy the quiet connection between you two.

As Irene walked through the campus, heading toward the student council room, she felt oddly content. Despite the distance between you now, despite the teasing and the games and the back-and-forth, there was this undeniable warmth in her chest. She might have started this war thinking she’d win, but now that it was over, she realized she had already won.

You.

Her vice president. The one who had made her life absolutely ridiculous and frustrating, but also the one who had somehow captured her heart in the most unexpected of ways.

Irene flipped through the pictures once more (and the candid shot that she had set as her lock screen)— the ones of you two together — and her smile softened. It was official.

She was never letting go of this.

As she walked into the council room, still holding her phone close to her chest, Seulgi shot her a knowing look. “So, when are you going to send them all the photos and just admit you’re head over heels for your vice president?”

“Soon,” Irene said, her voice thick with happiness, as she swiped through the next batch of pictures. “Just... one more time. I want to keep this to myself for a little longer..”

Seulgi rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress the grin that followed. “You really are hopeless. It sounds more like you definitely lost this war, isn't it?”

“…maybe.” Irene admitted, unable to stop herself from smiling widely. “But I’m hopelessly in love.”

And with that, she tucked her phone away, heart full of giddy excitement, ready to face whatever came next. After all, she had time. The war might have ended, but this?

This was just the beginning.

(cue the outro)

[argumate]

I was watching Greed, a heavy handed satire of a British high street retail fashion mogul who commits all the cardinal sins of capitalism (leveraged buyouts, foreign sweatshops, being a generally unpleasant man to his employees) and gets mauled to death as a result, and I think like most movies of this genre it points out some genuine issues with society (some people live in absurd luxury while others struggle and die simply due to their place in the world) then completely fumbles the remedy, suggesting that apolitical actions by individuals can fix what is fundamentally a political collective action problem.

it's common to believe that paying too little for something is the root of all evil, but paying too little is only possible in the first place in a society that does not provide basic guarantees of living standards to its occupants; when people are free to reject a bad offer without starving then it's much harder to them pay too little, as they can just walk away.

if as a society we care about tax shelters, we can simply tax them! it's not difficult, we simply don't do this because enough of the political elite have a vested interest in maintaining them; only collective action can solve this.

so much of what passes for social activism ends up being expressed as "tell me what I have to buy -- or not buy -- to solve this problem", as if every issue can be fixed by the adjustment of consumer preferences alone.

part of the fable that we've spun since the 1980s is that collective political action is no longer necessary, and as declining participation in politics leads to diminished returns that might be a self-reinforcing dynamic.

but it would be very difficult to make a movie that challenges this without coming across as genuinely subversive or even dangerous.

[blackenedsnow]

Ooo I have another fun idea! How about a friends with benefits relationship with Beetlejuice which ends up turning into genuine romance?

Like they literally met because Beetlejuice tried marrying them to get free, which doesn't work, and he ends up continuing to seek the reader out because they interest him and they go along with his shenanigans

During all those years they've known each other they've ended up being very close friends and roommates of sorts (who have absolutely slept with each other multiple times and will continue to do so) but they also unconsciously tend to act like an actual, loving couple

Anyone mistakes them for being a couple? Neither or them correct or deny that claim and just go along with it

Then Beetlejuice ends up realizing that he's deeply in love with them and he genuinely wants to marry them, not just to be free anymore

Sorry for rambling, this is how I write my oc's relationship with him and it's so much fun to write :3

dead serious

WARNING: None

PAIRING: Beetlejuice x Reader

NOTE: I love this idea SO much! Thank you for sending this request, and I hope you enjoy! Please feel free to drop more ideas like this anytime—I'd love to bring them to life. <3

SUMMARY: Beetlejuice thought it was just a bit of fun—until one day, he realizes he’s dead serious about you.

It all started with Beetlejuice trying to marry you.

The memory was a bit of a haze, him in that ridiculous striped tux, a minister who’d looked like he’d stepped out of a Halloween party, and a whole lot of confusion. Of course, the whole “marriage for freedom” thing didn’t work out, and somewhere between you foiling his plan and that wicked glint in his eye, Beetlejuice decided you were worth sticking around for.

Over the years, you two had… an arrangement. It was strange, fun, sometimes loud, and weirdly comfortable. You became roommates of sorts, though he tended to crash wherever suited his mood—on the couch, on the floor, in random places all over your home. You’d gone from reluctantly amused by him to genuinely fond of him. The playful insults, the late nights, the times you both ended up in each other’s arms—it all somehow just worked.

And despite both of you calling it “friends with benefits”, anyone who saw you two together assumed you were a couple. You two acted the part without even realizing it: hanging off each other, teasing, little gestures that were oddly affectionate. Beetlejuice’s arm often found its way around your shoulders, or you’d catch him leaning into your space with that wolfish grin of his, not minding any extra closeness.

Every time someone would go, “Oh, so you two are together?” Beetlejuice would just flash his sharp grin and shrug, “They just can’t get enough of me.” And you? You’d just roll your eyes and play along, half-laughing, “Someone’s gotta put up with him, right?”

But then one day, Beetlejuice started realizing that his feelings were a little too real. Maybe it was the time you calmed him down after he’d picked a fight with some Neitherworld spirits, gently telling him to stop being such an idiot as he just grinned at you, too close for comfort. Or maybe it was the time he woke up, half-sprawled across your lap, and you’d fallen asleep right beside him, looking peaceful in a way that made something in his long-dead heart flicker.

But the moment that hit him hardest was the time a stranger came up and assumed you were married.

“Oh, how long have you two been together?” they asked, clearly mistaking the two of you as something much more than a casual fling. Beetlejuice looked at you, wondering if you’d laugh it off as usual, but instead, you just shrugged with a grin, “Feels like forever, doesn’t it, Beej?”

“Yeah,” he murmured, caught off guard by the sudden warmth he felt in his chest. “Forever and then some.”

That was the beginning of the end—he couldn’t deny it anymore. He didn’t just want to mess around, have his fun, or even just be free from the Neitherworld. He wanted you. He wanted to be the one who could make you laugh, who you’d come home to, who you’d stick around for.

You two were in your usual rhythm when it happened. You were in the kitchen, cooking up something simple, and he was leaning against the counter, watching you with a smirk.

“Ya know,” he said, “you’re real cute when you’re domestic.”

You raised an eyebrow, flipping something in the pan. “Thanks, I guess? You’ve seen me make breakfast, like, a hundred times.”

“Yeah, but it’s still cute,” he said, brushing it off like it was no big deal. He got that look in his eye, though—the one that said he was winding up for something.

As you turned to grab something from the fridge, you felt him sidle up behind you. His hands rested on either side of you, and he dipped his head down, voice going surprisingly soft.

“I think I’m in love with you.”

You froze. For a moment, you thought maybe he was joking, this was so random, but something in his tone was different, almost… vulnerable.

“Uh,” you said, turning around to face him, a smile tugging at the corner of your lips, “are you serious?”

He gave a sheepish grin, scratching the back of his head. “As serious as I get, babe! Which, y’know, is pretty serious.” There was a nervous glint in his eye, something real.

You stared at him, feeling a rush of emotions you hadn’t fully let yourself consider before. He was looking at you like he’d just discovered something precious.

“You mean it?” you asked, still not entirely believing it.

He groaned, rolling his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, mushy stuff. I mean it, alright? I’m not saying it just to, y’know…” He shrugged, looking off to the side, “get outta the Neitherworld or whatever. I just… want to.”

A warmth spread in your chest. “Well, I… I love you too.”

His eyes lit up, and his grin widened until it looked like it would split his face. “See? We’re a match made in—well, not heaven, but close enough!”

You chuckled, rolling your eyes. “How romantic.”

“Oh, you love it,” he said, pulling you into a kiss that was surprisingly soft, lingering in a way that felt different from all the other times. When you broke apart, he looked at you with a glimmer of something new, something genuine. But still... ew.

“Say, what d’you think about actually making it official?” he asked, voice a little gruffer than usual. “I know the whole marriage thing didn’t pan out last time, but what if we tried again? For real.”

You blinked, taking a moment to process. “You’re not just doing this to get out of—”

“Nah,” he interrupted, waving a hand dismissively. “I mean, yeah, I’d love to get free of the Neitherworld for good, but that’s not why I’m asking now. I’m askin’ ’cause… well, it’s you.”

A lump formed in your throat, and you nodded. “Alright. Let’s do it.”

[nobodycaresabt]

I need to talk about Ness and how much and how unexpectedly I love him.

I think it’s one of the best paced character’s introductions in bllk thus far and I am amused how he turned from a level’s boss’ sidekick to such an interesting character.

At first we meet him as a Kaiser’s +1 and tbh from his design he doesn’t look like a lot. Other guys from BM are even more interesting.

Then he is more of a comic relief with “yellow cards” and “Kaiser’s boy toy” until it all becomes pretty ugly.

With the drink thrown at him, that lip-biting panel we all remember (and want to forget), knee sliding for Kaiser’s goal I was going back and forth between feeling sorry for him and being borderline disgusted.

But then his backstory drops and it turns out to be such a beautiful story. Not only was he an adorable little boy, but he was imaginative, creative, sensitive and so lonely. I like how his backstory has very little to do with football, but with his longing for magic, emotions, acceptance, wonderful things and how football was the first wonder that he found irl. That words “unexplainable feelings, unexplainable sadness” did something to me 😭

It seems like Kaiser represents all this magic he was longing for and their relationship seems sincere and genuine at that point.

Then his profile drops and i feel even more sorry for him. Aside from Kaiser nonsense he wants to go back to his younger self and tells him it’s okay to be himself. Gosh… And his favorite movie is a love story.

His backstory and his profile show him as a beautiful well rounded person with a lot of interests who is different from all other characters. It also provides with space for head canons.

Ok, and then Kaiser’s backstory drops and we learn that from his side it was all bs from the very beginning and that he used Ness dirty. Thank you. Ness, my poor boy.

Thank you for listening to my rant. I will be okay. 🫂

[geekgirles]

The interesting thing about Gobbowl culture in Ankama media (and probably the aspect that most resembles irl football) is the fact that the interest it draws comes less from the sport itself and more from there being players the fans can idolise and obsess over.

Khan Karkass summed it up best: people don't come to matches to watch them play, they come to watch him.

Gobbowl fans care more about their favourite player than the sport itself. In fact, for the most part they care more about their favourite player putting on a show for them than them playing well.

And this is something that's been present in all iterations of the franchise, in the different eras (except for Waven, but the game's not quite there as far as I'm concerned).

Back in Wakfu season 1, there was Kriss Krass, who was massively popular, even when I seem to remember he didn't even play in the first division back then.

Moreover, his main flaw was being a complete showboat, but it was precisely because he knew his fans cared more about him putting on a good show than about the actual outcome of the game. I mean, the man held back from utterly cursbtomping the opposite team just so he could keep the game going for as long as possible and his fans wouldn't get bored!

Then season 2 introduced Maude as the Masked Gobbowler. In Brâkmar. Where women aren't even allowed to watch Gobbowl.

And, sure, one of the main reasons she hid her identity was precisely because if she was found out, the lightest sentence would be her being banned from ever playing again, with the highest sentence being... Well...

You know...

But that doesn't change the fact that Brâkmar holds their best player in such a high pedestal the Masked Gobbowler had a say in legal procedures and how to deal with the accused party of a trial. With no one, not even the Prince of Brâkmar, daring to refute.

And in the end, after Maude proved just how amazing her technique is by saving the city alongside Kriss from the Mmmmmporg's rampage, Brâkmar started treating having a girl as their best player as a badge of honour (if only because they thought it proved their superiority over Bonta).

And then we have the Dofus Era with Khan Karkass.

Khan, who was introduced looking for new team members with the sole purpose of making himself look better, because that's what the fans wanted. They wanted Khan. Everybody else was little more than a living prop meant to make him shine.

His fame was so great that you could say it overshadowed even Jashash's. Because even though the match was supposed to commemorate him and his sacrifice, what everyone really came to see was Khan play. Even the announcer gave so much more importance to Khan's presence over Jahash's feats.

And, again, the fans seemed to care much more about Khan as an icon than they did his actual skills. Now, don't get me wrong, Khan genuinely was a talented player, more importantly, one that recognised true talent. And Marilyn possessing his body and playing bad on purpose was a great factor in the fans' disillusionment over him during the climax.

However, it should be pointed out that what horrified them first was Marilyn shaving Khan's hair. Because that simple action shattered their ideal image of him. If they truly cared more about the sport, they wouldn't have even batted an eyelash.

(Again, this is a reflection of real life, where the moment a famous player makes a drastic change to their appearance, social media is already flowing with comments about it).

But no. They were horrified because they idolised Khan as a source of entertainment much more than they liked the actual sport, and his hair was his trademark. Getting rid of it was getting rid of what made Khan an object of envy and desire. And Marilyn, as fellow Khan Karkass Stan and scorned admirer, knew that. He knew it better than anyone. That's why he did it.

And I don't know wny I chose to fixate on this today and overanalyse a relatively small aspect of the franchise. I just guess this is all a neat piece of world building.

[faithshouseofchaos]

Southern charm— Lance stroll x fem!Southern!reader

Word count— 966

Fluff

The evening was alive with music and laughter, and the party was in full swing. Lance Stroll hadn’t initially planned on coming, but the energy of the crowd drew him in. As he moved through the room, his attention was caught by a voice – smooth and honeyed, laced with a Southern accent that somehow cut through the noise.

He turned to find you, a Southern belle with a warm smile, laughing with a few friends. You were magnetic, with an effortless charm that was hard to ignore. Lance found himself edging closer, pretending to check his phone as he worked up the nerve to introduce himself.

You noticed him almost immediately, raising an eyebrow as you took in his slightly awkward demeanor and the polite, yet curious smile.

“Didn’t think Canadians knew how to have fun at a party like this,” you teased, raising your glass in a playful salute.

Lance chuckled, scratching the back of his neck. “We do… we just don’t have that Southern charm to make it look so easy.”

Your laughter was infectious, and soon you two were deep in conversation. He found himself intrigued not only by your accent but by the way you shared stories with such enthusiasm, your hands gesturing animatedly as you talked. And you, for your part, couldn’t help but be drawn in by his quiet confidence and the way he listened, genuinely interested in every word.

As the night wore on, the crowd began to thin, yet you and Lance remained, chatting about everything and nothing, discovering shared interests and hidden dreams. He realized he didn’t want the night to end, so he asked, “Would you want to get a coffee sometime? Or, if you’re feeling generous, maybe let a Canadian take you out for a Southern meal?”

With a grin, you replied, “I reckon that’s a deal.”

Over the next few weeks, you and Lance grew closer, from coffee dates to long walks, and every time you were together, he found himself falling a little more. And one night, under a sky dotted with stars, he finally admitted what he’d been feeling since that first night.

“So, does this Southern girl think a Canadian’s got a shot with her?”

You laughed, heart fluttering as you looked up at him. “Well, maybe if he’s real nice to me…”

Lance smiled softly at your statement “I guess it’s a good thing that I’m a nice guy then huh” he says.

“Yeah I guess it is”

A few weeks after that first night, Lance was becoming a regular at all your favorite spots around town – from the cozy coffee shop on Main Street to the diner you swore had the best biscuits and gravy this side of the Mississippi. Every time, you’d introduce him to something new – a plate he’d never tried or an old country song that would get you swaying in your seat.

He’d tease you about your taste in music, saying it was “way too twangy for a city boy,” but he loved how your eyes lit up when you sang along. And when he joined in – off-key and laughing – you couldn’t help but feel a little more smitten.

One Saturday afternoon, you two decided to spend the day at a local fair. Lance insisted on winning you a prize from the ring toss, missing several times before finally landing a perfect throw. He handed you a slightly lopsided stuffed bear, wearing a proud grin as if he’d just won a major race.

“Not bad for a Canadian, huh?” he said, winking.

“Not bad at all,” you replied, clutching the bear close. The two of you wandered through the fairgrounds, your hands brushing now and then until Lance finally took yours in his, lacing his fingers with yours as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

Later, as the sun was setting and the lights of the fairgrounds lit up the night, Lance stopped in his tracks, pulling you close. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt so at home somewhere I didn’t know,” he admitted softly, his thumb tracing small circles on the back of your hand. “Being here with you… it’s different.”

You met his gaze, heart skipping a beat at the sincerity in his eyes. “Well, maybe that’s just the magic of the South,” you teased, though your voice was just as tender. “Or maybe… you’re just where you’re meant to be.”

Without another word, he leaned in, capturing your lips in a gentle kiss that felt both new and familiar, like coming home. The sounds of laughter and music faded into the background, leaving just the two of you, wrapped up in each other.

As fall turned to winter, you and Lance became a fixture in each other’s lives. Friends and family teased you endlessly, claiming he’d gone “Southern” himself, especially after he picked up a few phrases from you, like “y’all” and “fixin’ to.” He’d say it just to make you laugh, with that mischievous twinkle in his eye that had you hooked.

You’d never imagined a world where a Canadian F1 driver would blend so seamlessly with your life, but he did. And more than that – he made every moment brighter, showing you new parts of yourself and a love that was steady and unshakable.

One crisp December evening, wrapped up in blankets on your front porch, he turned to you, expression serious. “I know this started out… unexpected,” he began, his voice soft but steady, “but being with you feels like the only thing that makes sense. And I want it to keep making sense… for a long time.”

You couldn’t keep the grin off your face as you pulled him closer. “That’s good to hear, Lance Stroll, because I don’t plan on letting you go.”

[relaxxattack]

Whats the plot beat in homestuck you find most frustrating? For me its the concept that adding Vriska to the meteor Actually Fixed Every Problem Without Introducing Any New Ones but im curious about your take

that’s a really good one, it genuinely is really frustrating especially on the aspect of like. terezi as a character. it feels kind of fucked that her game over timeline self worth issues (which revolved around “oh my god i’m the worst, everything is awful because of me, i’m horrible for killing vriska, the only thing that would possibly fix this is vriska”) are basically validated because…. she undos everything to bring vriska back (which IS genuinely cool and i DID want vriska back so i’m not like. HATING hating) and then bringing vriska back literally immediately fixes every issue, as you said. it feels a little frustrating to me that her self hatred is basically just like, completely validated

as for other plot bits i personally dont like. uhhh the retcon as a whole honestly, like its COOL and its INTERESTING its just not personally my cup of tea and i would have preferred something different. and a lot of act 6 characterization i’m not a big fan of ESPECIALLY rose. like dear god rose in act 6. to be fair its been a while since i really worked through that whole act but like.

the passiveness which is supposed to be a reflection of her god tier or whatever, i just really do not like it. the alcoholism and the relationship issues with kanaya i have no problem with— those were interesting character conflicts. but when shes actually “better”… her being delegated to like. Reading Books and Planning is so frustrating when she was like the most volatile player beforehand. and i get that shes supposed to have “learned her lesson” after going grim dark but like… SHE WAS LITERALLY RIGHT. LOL. she was right to be breaking sburb because sburb actually IS a horrifying eldritch thing that is controlling and containing them! the fact that rose does a full 180 from trying to blow the game apart to, in the very last flash, happily smiling at their new game-made world that has “THANKS FOR PLAYING” stamped on it?? like hell no. FUCK no. it’s creepy. i am the #1 sburb hater. they are still trapped in sburb!!! they didn’t ESCAPE anything, they won the game on the game’s own terms, and now sburb is ready to continue itself on earth C next so the stupid cycle can go on forever. kind of frustrating for a comic that has so many themes of breaking abusive cycles imo

[dr-spectre]

Splatoon fans who are still talking about Splatoon and still making content are way stronger than me I'm gonna be so for real.

I feel the Splatoon neurons dying in my brain, my interest in the series is getting weaker and weaker each passing day due to Splatoon 3 ending content updates and i need to figure out how to keep the interest alive. I wanna be here for the FrostyFest and not be like "ugh, gonna skip it." That's what happened to me during the Zelda Splatfest and i missed out on it...

Maybe i should actually put in work and effort to make some damn fanfics but i genuinely don't know how to start them.

I don't write a lot of "traditional" writing in the sense of it being a novel somewhat, i mainly write scripts and documents for my ideas. Trying to start something is hard because i don't know HOW to! Like do i start off with setting up the location? Do i have some dialogue? I DON'T KNOW!!!!!!! I can't even work on a comic because my art skills are BADDDDDDD!!!!!!!!

Maybe I'm just in a mental slump right now. I feel bleh rn and I've been having a ton of negative thoughts about my future... (not my future on Tumblr but my future in general.)

But hey! An artbook is coming out in a months time right? Hopefully people will actually fucking translate the thing and we'll get some nice juicy lore details! Or maybe stuff that pisses me off... maybe they'll talk about Marina Agitando and there'll be a little blurb that says "When Marina was brainwa-" and i will rant about it 100% LOL!

[tides-that-bind-us]

What is the best way to become friends with your OCs

A question from one of the prompt lists I used gave me anxiety with how it's written and it makes me feel rude sending the same prompt to anyone. I get the sentiment, and it's a way to break the ice but it doesn't work for me, unfortunately! So as an alternative, I wanted to write up notes about my OCS about ways to earn their friendship. Plus, I get to talk about my blorbos and get some ideas out, win-win!

Cironus

He's friendly to everyone! He's not-in-your-face-friendly, but he'll happily listen if you have something to say, and ask questions if you have things to share. Main qualities that catch his attention are kindness, compassion and a good sense of humor. He doesn't mesh well with folks who use cruelty as a form of humor (insults as a term of endearment, making fun of his interests as examples), and he doesn't take to sarcasm very well. Too much of that and Cironus will distance himself from you.

Music means a lot to him since it's the one way he can truly express himself, so if someone sincerely compliments his work he'll be gushing for days. Another great way to bond is by playing music with him! It's a great opportunity to see how well he can work with other musicians and get a read on their personality.

Sardon

He's the type who doesn't make the first move when it comes to striking a conversation. Not because he's unfriendly, but because he knows it can be off putting to those smaller than he is. Sardon uses his siblings as a buffer; he'll hang around them while they do all the talking and it gives him the confidence to speak up once in a while. On his own he's very serious and tight lipped. He shows a softness only around his family and children.

Sparring can be another way to get him to open up since he's in his element when fighting, and it's another a good way to strike up banter. Like Cironus, he doesn't take kindly to those who are cruel, especially towards others. He can take a witty/snarky remark, and throw back his own in return, but unlike his brother, Sardon will be confrontational if a situation escalates.

Kaska

Surprisingly, she is the hardest to befriend of the siblings! She's very kind and friendly, and will engage in conversation, but it's her job as a diplomat to be...well, diplomatic! Kaska can't afford to be her genuine self when she's on the job, especially when her family depends on her to earn favor from other kingdoms and territories.

Outwardly, she comes off as the responsible one, especially when she's with her brothers. Kaska will never talk about herself unless its in regards to her duties, or she will put someone else on the spotlight and allow them to speak about their interests. She doesn't even realize she does this! Kaska is so used to putting her personal interests aside for the sake of others she's unaware of the mask she has on. Her brothers encourage her to relax, and though Kaska swears that she can, they can tell she's still holding back.

Kaso

Kaso is a bundle of endless energy tied to a string of never-ending questions. He's very bold and curious when it comes to approaching strangers, and can be very mischievous as well! Because he's so young and sheltered he doesn't consider particular boundaries with other people. Kaso isn't disrespectful but his lack of understanding can come across as insensitive. If shown patience and a little firmness, Kaso is willing to learn from his mistakes!

Any trouble he comes across is usually headed off by any of his siblings who are never far behind. If someone thinks they can pick on him they should be prepared to be confronted by two angry zorca men!

The Zorca

While each individual zorca is unique, the pod as a whole functions together as a unit. They travel as one, they hunt as a team, and make decisions together (for the most part). It's one collective personality, and for outsiders it can be a little overwhelming and frightening at times. The zorca have a matriarchal society, so its the women strangers will be speaking to the most. Exceptions like Cironus, Sardon and Kaso are only because they are away from the pod temporarily.

Befriending the pod as a whole is not as difficult as it might seem. The main issue is stereotypes surrounding the zorca. Some zora believe them to be bullies, who eat anything and anyone they set their eyes on. But if you can make nice with even one zorca, news about you will travel fast among the pod. The same goes for negative encounters too! At worst, they'll avoid any one looking for trouble. The zorca are not violent but don't push your luck.

Just be careful though. Some zorca women have a strong mothering instinct and tend to adopt those they dote on.

[hyolks]

(TW: BODY/ORGANS/NEEDLES!!)

Yo! So I was scrolling down your posts and found the one about Al’s ever-increasing automail body and how you are unsure how many of his organs could be replaced and… I have personal experience with that! What a lovely thing, to go through organ failure and have it be worth it if I can pass on that experience for the sake of ✨semi-realism-maybe-if-you-squint✨

My pancreas failed. Entirely. I have to manually give myself insulin every time I eat, and do calculations for it all; I can eat pretty much anything, but it comes at a price. Something something “equivalent exchange” one might even say.

But anyway, I basically have a mechanical pancreas with a remote control! I inject a 7 day supply of insulin into it with a syringe, and I tell it how much and how frequently to inject manually. It can inject into any spot on the body with a thick enough fat layer, usually stomach, thighs, the flabby parts of your upper arm, etc… note: I was 90lbs when I first went into organ failure, you do not have to be any particular body type/size for this to work.

It’s a very simple concept for the machine, and very simple/limited commands. You could even combine the controller with it and make it so there’s a switch/buttons directly on the injection site that have pre-determined doses.

Insulin has to be kept temperature controlled when in storage too, so that’s a cool thing you could mess around with if he has to keep more than a week supply on him. (This can honestly also just be ignored if it’s too complicated ‘^-^)

Insulin is a hormone, basically a command to tell your body to do something. So this can be applied to certain parts of the brain as well!

I don’t know if this’ll help, or if you’ve already found other inspirations that conflict with it, I just thought “hey, this Al makes me feel a little less alone in the world, if I can project a piece of me onto him I’d be really happy”.

Sorry if that’s presumptuous or weird of me to do >~<

OH MY GOSH DW DW THANK YOU SO MUH FOR SENDING THIS!!!! I SINCERELY APPRECIATE IT !!! i know its very strange to say but i love reading stuff like this and this was truly incredible to receive :")

medication/suppliments 1000% slipped my mind like i cant even BELIEVE it how much i forgot to consider it. i knew that going through an organ transplant also entailed needing to take medication to keep your body from rejecting it, but thats about where i stop with knowledge about regarding organ replacements,, but that is so interesting in your case with how much control and calculation is needed?? I also never thought about how truly indepth/technical mechanical organs would need to be!! especially since our organs just casually do the things they do and having a machine mimic it is more than just hitting "go" ...!! if you dont mind me asking how does it like stay powered, i guess ? :O

THE PRESSURE THAT WOULD BE ADDED IF THEY HAD TIME CONSTRAINTS BC OF MEDICATION..... OOOOOO.... especially with the temperature control.... them traveling through the desert would be so much more perilous !! I really will haveta figure out what he would be taking, if it were insulin or some almagomation (that included insulin of course) that could provide him the nutrients he would be missing out on because his lack of ability to eat/digest food...?

the handwavy science of canon that allows automail to work via nerve connections for motor control definitely like. eases the load a bit? although most of these organs require more function than just motor control... hmmm... REGARDLESS, thank u so mcuh for bringing up manually providing the body with hormones (and additionally nutrients), because no matter how quote unquote advanced the automail is, it wouldnt be able to actually produce the things he needs... process it, maybe? sure? but cannot produce it...!!

you're genuinely so sweet!!! thank you SO SO SO much for sending this in !! it really means so much to me that you can relate to this Al :")!! even though im probably trying to get tooo realistic with this portrayal (given the fact that al is mostly metal OTL) i dont want to like... not consider the things he would have to go through ? i guess? i cant quite figure out the words for what i want to say, but nonetheless!! <33333 thank you!!!!!

[cringefailvox]

where would alastor fit into the staticbelle au, :0 ?

staticbelle au

OKAY IT REALLY DEPENDS BC!! we still don't know exactly why alastor is at the hotel! it could be because he's there on orders from someone else, or he's there to entertain himself, or to manipulate charlie for reasons unknown, or something else entirely—and the reason will really impact whether or not he'd choose to try and get involved with charlie if she was already supported by vox. a lot of his sway over the hotel comes from the fact that it was crumbling into disrepair when he arrived and he fairy godmother'd it into a somewhat functional project, therefore winning him a ton of emotional brownie points with charlie, but he wouldn't have that opportunity at all here because i really don't think there's anything he could offer charlie that vox isn't already providing (or wouldn't be willing to START providing if it meant spiting alastor).

however. presuming instead that alastor is not at the hotel to protect or look after charlie, or help her project succeed (since these would already be satisfied by vox), it'd be fascinating if instead alastor comes back after seven years and immediately antagonizes vox into losing his shit and making charlie go "ooookay! i'm gonna have to put my therapy techniques in action because vox is clearly not over his situationship." and that's how her and alastor meet. i think she knows about the alastor thing but hadn't really seen what the problem was before he came back; everyone in hell has enemies after all, and a little healthy rivalry never hurt anyone, but seeing it in action is totally different. after the third time vox plunges the city into darkness because alastor called him an insecure freak on air she's like umm. we might need to talk about this.

she's super worried about vox because she's never seen him this upset about anything before. vox is relapsing hard into his paranoid-obsessive shit that he'd worked on really hard in the seven years alastor has been away, and now it's all rushing back and threatening to ruin everything he's built—but also, his sorta girlfriend princess independent contractor person (???) is now insisting he try to "make amends" and "practice healthy emotional regulation" and "please stop brooding over your pit of sharks with a bottle of tequila i'm really nervous about you falling in and electrocuting yourself even though i know you're waterproof, come watch a movie with me instead?" and he can't decide whether he resents it or appreciates it (both. it's both).

maybe having charlie around to redirect him and encourage healthier outlets for his anger, unlike how val and vel normally handle his radio demon bullshit, DOES actually get him to calm down a little bit. maybe even enough to reluctantly agree to supervised counseling sessions with alastor, because fucking dammit charlie has gone behind his back to talk to al about repairing their broken friendship and he was so excited, vox, you should've seen him, he practically insisted on having me arrange a meeting, i think he really regrets how things ended between you two and wants to do better, please just give it a chance?? cue the worst couple's counseling session in the universe with vox stiff as a board and shaking with repressed rage in his seat while alastor sips tea demurely across from him and asks oh-so-politely how him and charlie met, and isn't this such a charming little affair, and ooh, redemption? how interesting! charlie is eating this the fuck up, overjoyed at the thought of meeting TWO overlords interested in her plan while vox can't do anything about it but seethe and fantasize about shooting alastor in the face when charlie's back is turned.

this actually sort of turns into vox feeling protective over charlie completely without meaning to, because he knows alastor isn't being genuine, he knows he has ill intentions, and vox has invested too much time and energy and honest commitment into both charlie and her dreams to let fucking alastor destroy it all by taking advantage of her desperate need for validation. only vox gets to capitalize on her daddy issues, dammit. but there's real affection there too, reluctant and uncomfortable as he is with its existence, and it's making it extremely difficult for him to handle alastor's Everything without betraying the fact that he's become emotionally compromised and isn't just looking out for his business interests.

charlie, meanwhile, thinks she's going to get to kill two birds with one stone here: she can help vox get over / assuage a broken relationship that's clearly causing him a lot of distress, and she can rope another influential overlord into endorsing her project, which prods the door open that much further for her to enact real change in hell. but alastor isn't the same kind of monster as vox, and she might be a little in over her head this time—because she just can't stop herself from having faith in people's better natures, even when every indication is pointing the other way. it's a kind of earnest and willful naivete that's like blood in the water to people like alastor and vox. at least she knows—she hopes—vox would hesitate now. she can't really say the same for al. either way, she's going to keep trying, and it's really a race between charlie's ability to infect people with soft mushy friendship emotions by double-bluffing their manipulative plots and alastor's ability to pry people open like clamshells and inflict horrifyingly intimate betrayals on them.

(hint: charlie always wins the long-game. there's only so many times you can sarcastically banter about your feelings over scones with your archrival and your girlfriend supervising before you start actually making breakthroughs and unwillingly understanding each other. charlie has weaponized "ironically committing to the bit too hard" in her favor and it works everyyy time)

[stranger-detective]

Tysm for the tag!!!! Also oh my gosh happy birthday!!! Hope you had an awesome day, your taste in stuff is top tier 👌 👌 (I also hope the in love with friend disease isn't hitting too hard. been there, it sucks)

Last song I listened to: Monster from Epic the Musical!!! While I was supposed to be doing homework :D the end of year burnout is so real, but I've been having an Epic Moment ™️ since the Vengeance Saga released a few weeks ago so. here we are

Favourite colour: Pastel, Lilac-ish purple. Personally I think that if there was a heart emoji in this colour the world would be a cured at least a little of its horrors.

Last book I finished: it is depressing how long ago this was (I hate that I never have time for reading!) but I think it was Heartstopper, the first volume, for about the 600 billionth time. Watching Nick and Charlie fall in love never gets old <3

Last show I watched: I started Outer Banks a little while ago! Been too busy to watch it for about 4 straight weeks but John B and Sarah were so cute and funny in the most recent episode I watched. I approve.

Sweet/Salty/Savoury: I am suuch a sweet tooth lol. I am a firm white chocolate enjoyer and dark chocolate HATER (it is bitter and disgusting and tastes like sadness and anger). Of course, though, milk chocolate is the best chocolate of the three!

Relationship Status: what an interesting question that is.... haha. he.

Complicated

Most recent google search: it was 'embroidery wildflowers'. I was looking for inspiration for a piece!! (I am so lucky it was something this inembarrassing)

Current obsession: Epic the Musical. Every time a new saga comes out it takes over my brain and consumes me completely. Genuinely my favourite musical ever I think!!!! I would die to play Epic's Penelope, her songs are so beautiful

Looking forward to: The summer holidays. Two more weeks!! I'm so close, and then 8 weeks of freedom with absolutely no commitments or work to do. I am currently being destroyed by burnout so I am literally holding onto these holidays like a lifeline :)

🩷🌺✨️👄💖

No pressure tags: @krakoansam @hawkinsunderground @emily-mooon @pizza-feverdream @anxiousalene and anyone else!!! Peoples interests are fun to learn about!! Especially when I want ideas for new things to do/read/watch :DD

10 people i’d like to get to know better

Tagged by @poetichibiscus ! 👋 Thankssss it's fun getting to know people on here

last song i listened to: other than the lo fi beats i'm listening to at work, I think it was either Gucci Gucci by Kreayshawn or Can't Sit With Us by Honey C. They're part of my "hype up on the way to work" playlist, lmao

favorite color: purple all the way!

last book i finished: ohhhh man i'm not sure. i have a terrible, terrible habit of starting books and not finishing them. i THINK the last book i actually finished was a re-read of Venus in Furs by Leopold von Sacher-Masoch, and that was a while ago. Last book I started wassssssss either the Gottfried or Thomas of Britain version of the Tristan & Isolde romance (I kinda been bopping back and forth between them like an animal)...

last show i watched: slkfhalksd i think it was Yu-Gi-OH! VRAINS. i haven't had time to sit and watch a show in a while, either 😅

sweet/salty/savory: savoryyyyyyyyyyyyyy

relationship status: single and oh lord i have no idea how to mingle h el p

most recent google search: "can you buy me tampons text meme" <- important search

current obsession: the embarrassing obsession with disney's pocahontas is still ongoing. tbh, when you've gone out of your way to buy a laserdisc player because you needed to hear the commentary track found only on the 1996 special edition and nowhere else (bc you've scoured the internet for it and found NOTHING) there's probably no going back. incidentally, i think i'm gonna get into archiving media once i've made time to hunt down some more interesting laserdiscs to justify my impulse purchase with. (and if anyone wants a copy of that commentary track btw i made an mp3 of it all you gotta do is ask. just sayin'. just so you know.)

looking forward to: getting through this paralegal program so i can get a raise and maybe also upgrade apartments bc that would be Nice

Tagging: @subway-dove @anisaanisa @iveneverbeenmorestressedinmylife @elephantlovemedleys @t3acupz @mandoratheevilchaser @devilatelier @spacedewey @intrinsicallydisordered @ithinkimaperson and anyone else who wanna 👍