#not ruling out the possibility it was just kind of mid

[bigskycastle]

why a B? what was the critique?

this sounds kind of cope i stg its not i would go into it more if it was like helpful or insightful TRUST. but genuinely the feedback was kinda.. incoherent and contradictory...?!? and i got penalised a lot for stuff that i was pretty clearly told was fine during crit whilst working on it. feels a bit vindictive to me and if it was graded by a particular lecturer which im 99% sure it was i have a feeling i know why

[starrysharks]

chapter 1 of reassassination's nearly done script-wise! hopefully the next chapters won't take like 6 months of on-and-off work to complete lol

[solxamber]

do you think you could write about a white rabbit reader like how did with wild cat? as in the white rabbit from alice in wonderland— who’s more of a polite anxious mess trying to follow the queens strict rules but is kind of bad at it. possibly shy or on the quieter side like a rabbit beastman would probably be, considering most of the beastmens personalities align with their animal counterparts behavior. and for some reason most of the beastmen we see, or even the merpeople, are all predator animals so i would love to see their interactions with a prey animal. for the first time ever, leona would actually be scientifically correct in calling the reader an herbivore. they would also be the only beastman who’s not sorted into savanaclaw i imagine. in canonical alice in wonderland, or at least a majority of its interpretations, the white rabbit is considered a neutral, somewhat villain leaning character. he works for the queen but he’s never outright evil, if anything he’s kind of a coward as he is initially terrified of alice. so i can see reader being mostly benevolent and a little bit of a scaredy cat who’s still relatively friendly. thank you

White Rabbit! Reader x Everyone

Thank you for the request <3 I hope you like it

Character: All NRC + Staff + Rollo, Neige

Riddle Rosehearts:

You’re always on edge around Riddle, frantically trying to follow the Queen's rules and his. But you trip over your own feet so often that Riddle ends up scolding you almost every day.

"Rule 76: No running in the halls!" Riddle huffs as you scramble past him, dropping a handful of papers as you trip over your own shoes.

You fumble around, trying to gather the papers while stammering an apology, eyes wide and twitching like a startled rabbit. “S-sorry! I didn’t mean to—oh no! Rule 17: Never drop important documents...”

Riddle looks ready to blow up, but when you shoot him those big, panicked eyes, he exhales sharply through his nose, the lecture stuck in his throat. "Just��� get it together!" he mutters, turning on his heel, clearly flustered. “How am I supposed to enforce rules when you look like you're going to faint every time I open my mouth?!”

In the back of your mind, you wonder if he’d be so strict if he knew you were working for the "Queen." But you don't have the nerve to tell him that, so you just nod and awkwardly salute.

Trey Clover:

You never quite relax around Trey, even though he's the calmest person in Heartslabyul. Every time you’re near him, you’re just waiting for the moment when he’ll ask you to do something scary, like taste one of his experimental dishes or—worse—eat cake in front of Riddle. The idea makes your ears droop.

"Hey, you okay?" Trey asks when he notices you standing stiffly by the kitchen door. He’s got flour on his apron and a knife in hand, chopping fruit with easy precision.

You jump at the sound of his voice and nearly knock over a stack of plates. "I-I’m fine!" you squeak, standing even straighter like you’re in the Queen’s court.

Trey chuckles softly. "You know, I’m not going to bite. Unless I’m making rabbit stew." He winks.

Your eyes widen in horror, ears trembling. "R-rabbit stew?!"

He laughs, holding up his hands. "I'm kidding! Kidding!" Trey seems to find your reactions endlessly amusing, always leaning in with a gentle smile. "But if you need help relaxing, just say the word. Maybe we can make some tea. No pressure."

But all you hear is "pressure," and you feel like you're about to combust.

Cater Diamond:

Cater thinks you're the cutest thing on two legs, especially when you're in a flustered state. Which, unfortunately for you, is almost all the time.

“Yo, lil’ bunny!” Cater calls out as he sidles up to you in the hall, phone in hand. You’re mid-panic about how you’re going to explain to Riddle why your shoes are untied, your tie is crooked, and you accidentally skipped breakfast because you were too nervous to eat.

You freeze, giving Cater a look like a deer in headlights—or rather, a rabbit in a snare. “D-don’t call me that,” you mumble, ears twitching furiously. “R-Riddle might hear…”

Cater just grins, pulling out his phone to snap a quick selfie of your panicked expression. “You’ve gotta chill! It’s like, the 5th time today you’ve looked like you're on trial.”

You flinch. On trial?! That’s even worse! “I-I can’t relax! W-what if I break a rule?!”

Cater just pats your head, ruffling your hair. "Well, I think you're doing just fine! Plus, it makes for great content. Smile, #bunnyfails!"

You want to disappear into the ground. But Cater just keeps snapping pics and laughing.

Ace Trappola:

Ace treats you like an adorable walking ball of stress that’s just begging to be messed with. And who is Ace if not a professional button-pusher?

"Hey! Rabbit!" Ace shouts across the Heartslabyul gardens one day, and you nearly jump out of your skin, spilling tea all over yourself.

“E-Excuse me?!” you sputter, face burning as you frantically blot at the stain on your uniform.

Ace saunters over with a grin on his face. "Oh, sorry. Did I startle you? You’re just so jumpy—like, literally! It’s hilarious!"

"I-I’m not jumpy!" you insist, but your trembling hands betray you as you fumble with your napkin, accidentally knocking the sugar bowl off the table.

Ace bursts out laughing, nearly doubling over. "Dude, you’re killing me! I swear, every time I’m around, it’s like watching a sitcom! *This* is quality entertainment!"

You huff, glaring at him, ears drooping. "I’m not entertainment."

Ace just gives you a thumbs-up. "Sure you are. And the best part is, you do it all for free!"

Deuce Spade:

Deuce wants to help. He really does. But every time he sees you looking like you’re two seconds from a meltdown, he panics even harder than you do.

"W-whoa! Are you okay?!" Deuce exclaims when he finds you frantically digging through your bag, trying to find the Queen’s latest decree—or was it Riddle’s study notes? You can't remember because you’re too stressed.

"I-I lost the thing! You know, the thing!" you gasp out, waving your arms wildly.

Deuce pales. "Oh no, that’s bad! I-I can help! What thing?!”

"I DON’T KNOW!" you cry, at the peak of panic now.

Deuce stares at you for a second, eyes wide. Then he also starts scrambling around. "Okay, okay! We can find it! Stay calm! Well—not calm, but calmer!"

You both end up running in circles until Trey finds you and asks, deadpan, “What exactly are you two looking for?”

The silence that follows is deafening.

“Um…” Deuce rubs the back of his head sheepishly. “I... kind of forgot.”

Leona Kingscholar:

Leona knows exactly how to push your buttons—and he does so with as little effort as possible. For someone so calm and lazy, he seems to get a real kick out of watching you squirm.

“Oi, herbivore,” Leona drawls from his usual spot under the shade of a tree. You freeze, clutching your bag tighter as you glance nervously in his direction. “Why are you sneaking around like a prey animal? Oh, wait—you are one.”

You flinch and stammer, “I-I’m not sneaking, I’m just, um... minding my own business?”

Leona smirks, lazily cracking open one eye to look at you. “If you ‘mind your business’ any harder, you’re gonna trip over your own feet.”

You gulp, taking a step back, but he’s not done with you. “Maybe if you tried relaxing for once, you wouldn’t be so jittery.”

“I-I can’t help it!” you squeak, nearly tripping as you scuttle away, ears twitching furiously. “I have to follow the rules!”

Leona watches you run off, chuckling lowly to himself. “Rules, huh? Just don’t drop dead from the stress, or I’ll have to carry your sorry hide out of here.”

You spend the next week worrying that he’s going to jump out of nowhere and pounce on you—but of course, that’s way too much effort for Leona.

Ruggie Bucchi:

Ruggie sees you as someone who’s just begging to be teased, and he has no qualms about taking full advantage of your easily flustered nature.

One day, while you’re doing your best to stay out of trouble, Ruggie sneaks up behind you, flashing that mischievous grin of his. “Hey there, Bunny! Need some help with that?”

You yelp and nearly leap out of your skin, sending your stack of papers flying in every direction. “R-Ruggie! You startled me!”

Ruggie snickers as he helps you gather up the papers. “Aw, c’mon, I didn’t mean to. You’re just too easy, y’know? Makes me wanna mess with you a little.”

You pout, ears drooping. “W-well, it’s not very nice...”

He shrugs, still grinning. “What can I say? It’s in my nature. But I guess I’ll help you out, just this once.” He leans in closer and lowers his voice, adding, “Don’t expect it for free, though.”

Your face goes pale. “Wh-what do you want?”

Ruggie chuckles. “Relax, I’m just teasing! For now, anyway.” He winks before sauntering off, leaving you clutching your papers and wondering if every beastman in Savanaclaw has it out for you.

Jack Howl:

Jack feels a sense of duty to protect you. Even though he thinks you’re a little too skittish for your own good, he respects how hard you try to follow the rules—even when you trip over them.

“Hey, wait up,” Jack calls after you one day as you’re hurrying across campus. You turn to see him jogging over, looking concerned.

“O-oh! Jack! I-I didn’t do anything wrong, did I?” you ask nervously, already panicking that you might have broken some rule.

Jack frowns, crossing his arms. “You didn’t do anything wrong. Why do you always assume you did?”

You blink up at him, ears twitching. “I-I’m just worried I’ll mess up...”

Jack sighs, shaking his head. “You’re too hard on yourself. Look, if anyone tries to mess with you, I’ll step in. No one’s gonna hurt you while I’m around.”

Your eyes widen. “R-really? You’d do that?”

Jack nods firmly. “Of course. You’ve got a good heart, even if you’re a bit jumpy. Someone’s gotta look out for you.”

You smile up at him, feeling a little more reassured. But before you can thank him, you trip over your own feet and fall forward—right into Jack’s arms.

He catches you easily, looking down at you with a raised brow. “You’re really something, you know that?”

You blush furiously, scrambling to right yourself. “S-sorry! I-I didn’t mean to...”

Jack just chuckles softly. “Don’t worry. I’ve got your back, Bunny.”

Azul Ashengrotto:

Azul sees your anxiety as an untapped market. He’s confident he could help soothe your nerves—with a little contract, of course.

One day, while you’re quietly minding your own business in the Mostro Lounge, Azul slips into the seat across from you with his signature grin. “Ah, my dear friend. You seem rather... tense.”

You freeze in place, blinking rapidly. “O-oh! N-no, I’m just... trying to follow the rules.”

Azul’s eyes gleam behind his glasses. “Why don’t I offer you a deal? I can help alleviate some of that stress of yours. All it would take is a small favor in return...”

Your ears twitch nervously. “U-um... I-I’m not sure...”

Azul leans closer, lowering his voice to a silky whisper. “Imagine it—no more anxiety, no more worries about breaking the rules. All you’d have to do is sign here...”

You nearly pass out from the pressure, eyes darting around the lounge as if looking for an escape. “I-I think I’m fine! Really! Thank you!”

Azul chuckles darkly as you bolt from the lounge. He watches you go with a sigh. “Ah, such potential... But I suppose it’s not every day I encounter a rabbit so determined to resist.”

Jade Leech:

Jade finds your anxious behavior endlessly fascinating. He’s not one to outright tease—he prefers subtlety—but he enjoys watching you squirm in his presence.

One afternoon, you’re frantically trying to fix a mistake in your homework when Jade appears behind you without a sound. “Oh my, is everything alright?”

You yelp, almost knocking over your ink bottle. “J-Jade! You startled me!”

Jade smiles pleasantly, though you can see a mischievous glint in his eyes. “I apologize. I simply couldn’t help but notice how... flustered you seemed.”

You try to calm your racing heart. “I-I’m just trying to finish this assignment...”

Jade leans over your shoulder, examining your work. “Ah, I see. Perhaps I could offer some assistance? Though I must admit, it is rather... amusing to watch you at times.”

You flush, ears twitching in embarrassment. “A-amusing?”

Jade chuckles softly, standing upright again. “Indeed. You’re quite endearing in your own way.”

You’re not sure if that’s a compliment or not, but you nod meekly. “T-thank you... I think?”

Floyd Leech:

Floyd loves messing with you. It’s as simple as that. Your reactions are priceless, and he never misses an opportunity to make you jump out of your skin.

“Bunnyyyyy!” Floyd calls out, voice echoing through the hall as he chases after you. You speed up, desperately trying to get away, but Floyd is faster, his long legs catching up in no time.

He grabs you by the shoulders and spins you around with a grin. “Gotcha!”

You practically shriek. “F-Floyd! I-I wasn’t—”

Floyd cackles, bending down to look you in the eyes. “You’re always so jumpy, Bunny. It’s fun chasing you! Makes me wanna squeeze you even more.”

You tremble under his intense gaze, feeling like a mouse caught by a cat. “P-please don’t squeeze too hard...”

Floyd laughs again and ruffles your hair. “No promises! But you’re too funny to squish all at once. Guess I’ll just have to keep playing with you!”

You manage a weak smile, trying not to collapse from sheer anxiety. “G-great...”

Kalim Al-Asim:

Kalim is oblivious to your constant anxiety and thinks you’re just really shy. He goes out of his way to befriend you, always offering kind words and gifts to make you feel welcome.

One day, Kalim approaches you with a beaming smile, holding out a brightly wrapped gift. “Hey, I got this for you!”

Your ears twitch in surprise. “F-for me? Why?”

Kalim laughs cheerfully. “Why not? You’re my friend! And you always look so nervous, I thought this might cheer you up!”

You blink down at the gift, overwhelmed by his kindness. “I-I don’t know what to say...”

Kalim grins wider. “No need to say anything! Just know that if you ever feel anxious, I’m here for you, okay?”

His sunny demeanor is so contagious that you can’t help but smile back. “Th-thank you, Kalim. That means a lot...”

Kalim claps you on the back with a laugh, nearly knocking you off your feet. “No worries! We’re friends, after all!”

Jamil Viper:

Jamil is mildly exasperated by your anxious nature. He already has his hands full with Kalim, so dealing with you on top of that feels like another babysitting job. Still, he does his best to help you out when Kalim inevitably ropes you into their social circle.

One day, you’re standing awkwardly at the edge of a party, trying to blend into the wallpaper when Jamil approaches you with a sigh. “You look like you’d rather be anywhere else.”

You glance at him nervously. “I-I don’t want to cause any trouble...”

Jamil pinches the bridge of his nose. “You’re not causing trouble. Just... relax a little, okay? You don’t have to be so anxious all the time.”

You look up at him with wide eyes. “I-I don’t know how...”

Jamil sighs again, crossing his arms. “Well, just... follow Kalim’s lead, I guess. He doesn’t worry about anything.”

You look over at Kalim, who’s dancing on a table and laughing without a care in the world. “Easier said than done...”

Jamil gives you a tired look. “Tell me about it.”

Vil Schoenheit:

Vil is very much like the Queen you serve—strict, elegant, and entirely intimidating. Which means every time you’re around him, you end up feeling like you’re going to pass out from sheer anxiety.

“Why are you slouching like that?” Vil snaps, noticing you trying to fade into the background during a Pomefiore meeting. He points a perfectly manicured finger at you, expression sharp. “Posture is important, darling.”

You immediately stand straighter, ears trembling slightly. “I-I’m sorry, Vil! I didn’t mean to—"

“Hmm,” Vil tilts his head, examining you with a critical eye. “I swear, being around you is like trying to train an anxious little bunny. How am I supposed to shape you into anything presentable if you’re always two seconds away from fainting?”

“I-I promise to do better!” you stammer, sweating bullets.

Vil sighs dramatically, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Just… try not to look like prey when you’re in front of an audience, alright? We can’t have Pomefiore’s image ruined because someone mistook you for their lunch.”

You nod furiously, completely unsure how you’re supposed to accomplish that but determined to try.

Rook Hunt:

Rook finds you utterly fascinating, like a rare creature he’s determined to observe in its natural habitat. Which is to say, he’s always popping up out of nowhere and scaring the living daylights out of you.

“Mon lapin!” Rook exclaims from behind you, and you jump about three feet in the air, ears standing straight up.

“R-Rook! Please don’t do that!” you gasp, clutching your chest as you try to calm your racing heart.

Rook just smiles at you, his eyes glinting with amusement. “Ah, but I cannot help it! The way you react—so pure, so genuine, like a rabbit hearing a twig snap in the forest! It’s magnifique!”

You gulp, ears slowly drooping back down. “I-I don’t think being compared to prey is exactly a compliment…”

“But of course it is!” Rook insists, stepping closer and giving you a dazzling grin. “You are a creature of instinct, always alert, always prepared to flee! There is beauty in that, mon ami. And I, as your loyal huntsman, will ensure no harm befalls you.”

You smile nervously, unsure if that’s comforting or even scarier. “T-that’s… good to know?”

Rook’s eyes sparkle, as if he’s just found his next great challenge. “Ah, but one day, I hope to see you without fear, to see the calm, serene smile of a rabbit at rest. What a glorious sight that would be!”

You have no idea how to respond to that, so you just nod, deciding it’s better not to question Rook’s eccentricity.

Epel Felmier:

Epel thinks you’re kind of cool, actually. You’re nervous all the time, yeah, but you’re also from a strict background and work under pressure constantly. He respects that. Which means he’s decided that you’re his unofficial partner in surviving Vil’s tyranny.

“Hey, c’mon, you don’t need to be that scared of Vil,” Epel says one day, nudging your side as the two of you scrub cauldrons in the alchemy lab. “Sure, he’s scary, but if you just stand up to him once, he’ll back off… probably.”

You glance at Epel, eyes wide. “S-stand up to Vil?! Are you crazy?! I can’t do that! He’ll turn me into a newt or—o-or make me into some kind of fashionable accessory!”

Epel chuckles, shaking his head. “Nah, he ain’t that bad. You just gotta show him you’ve got guts. Or at least, like, fake it.”

You swallow hard, ears drooping. “F-faking it sounds risky… What if he notices?”

Epel grins, giving you a thumbs-up. “Then we run. Fast. Like the prey animals we are.”

You blink at him, half-horrified, half-impressed. “You… consider yourself a prey animal?”

Epel shrugs. “Sometimes, yeah. I mean, what else am I gonna do against Vil? Might as well embrace it. Besides, you’re good at dodgin’ people, right? We can make it work.”

You stare at him, processing his words, then sigh in resignation. “I guess we’re in this together then…”

Epel pats your shoulder with a grin. “That’s the spirit! We’re gonna make it through this, bunny style.”

You still have no idea what “bunny style” entails, but you’re willing to trust Epel’s wild plans—for now.

Idia Shroud:

Idia has never related to anyone more in his life. You anxiety is like looking into a jittery, trembling mirror, and for once, Idia is the calm one—relatively speaking.

“W-wait, you have to deliver a message to the Queen?!” Idia whispers, his hair sparking nervously. “That’s like, a total nightmare scenario.”

You nod rapidly, wringing your hands. “Y-yes, but I’m already late, and if I don’t get there soon, it’s off with my head!”

Idia shivers. “No way. I’d rather stay in my room for a thousand years.” He pauses, then adds, “But, um, if you don’t wanna go, maybe… I dunno… we could… not go together?”

You blink at him, your ears twitching at the idea of hiding away instead. “R-really? We can do that?”

He gives you an awkward thumbs-up, his face flushed. “Yeah… like, what’s the worst that could happen? Besides decapitation… but it’s not like anyone would expect me to be brave, right?”

You both glance at Ortho, who’s floating nearby and giving you the biggest, most judgmental sigh he can muster.

“You two need more courage,” Ortho says, shaking his head. “But I’ll help. Let’s make a plan!”

And just like that, your anxiety spirals back into full-on panic.

Ortho Shroud:

Ortho thinks you’re adorable, but he also realizes that you’re a magnet for trouble. So, naturally, he has to make sure you’re safe at all times.

“Good morning!” Ortho beams, floating beside you as you fumble with your basket of letters. “Where are you off to today?”

You twitch slightly, looking over your shoulder. “Oh, um, just delivering some messages… It’s a bit urgent…”

Ortho smiles, activating his sensors. “No problem! I’ll track your location and help with navigation!”

You blink, unsure if you should be relieved or more nervous. “T-track my location?”

Ortho nods cheerfully, a holographic map popping up. “Yup! We can’t have you getting lost in the rose maze again. Remember last time? You were stuck for hours!”

Your ears droop, embarrassed. “I-it’s not my fault everything looks the same…”

“Not to worry!” Ortho reassures. “I’ll make sure you’re in and out in no time! Plus, if you faint from fear, I can carry you.”

The thought of Ortho hauling you over his shoulder while Riddle scolds you is somehow even scarier than getting lost.

Malleus Draconia:

Malleus has never met someone so jittery around him—and that’s saying something. He finds it… oddly endearing.

“Good evening, Child of Man,(Hare(?))” Malleus greets, his deep voice echoing through the hallway.

You jump about a foot in the air, your ears standing straight up. “L-Lord Malleus! I-I didn’t see you there!”

Malleus tilts his head, clearly confused. “I was standing right in the middle of the hall.”

You gulp, trying not to show your terror. “S-sorry! I just, um, wasn’t expecting—um—dragons are very quiet, apparently!”

Malleus raises an eyebrow, then smiles, showing just a hint of fang. “I assure you, I have no intention of frightening you.”

You nod rapidly, ears still trembling. “O-of course, Your Highness! I mean, who’s scared? Not me! Totally fine! Super relaxed!”

Malleus chuckles, and the sound is somehow both amused and terrifying. “You truly are quite… peculiar.”

You have no idea if that’s a compliment or an insult, but you nod like it’s the greatest praise in the world. “T-thank you, Lord Malleus.”

Lilia Vanrouge:

Lilia finds you endlessly amusing. He likes to see just how much he can tease you before you pass out from fright.

“Hello, little rabbit,” Lilia says, appearing out of *nowhere* like he always does.

You squeak, nearly dropping your stack of paperwork. “A-ah! L-Lilia! P-please don’t sneak up on me like that!”

He grins, fangs peeking out. “Oh, but it’s so much fun. You jump every time, like a startled bunny.”

You frown, puffing your cheeks out indignantly, but it only makes you look cuter. “I-I can’t help it! I’m just… easily startled.”

Lilia nods sagely, pretending to consider your words. “Perhaps I should warn you next time? Though that might take away all the fun…”

You gulp, trying to decide if he’s joking or not. “P-please do…”

He laughs, patting your head affectionately. “I make no promises, little one. Just stay on your toes!”

Silver:

Silver finds your constant panic a little concerning, but mostly, it makes him tired just watching you.

You find Silver leaning against a tree, dozing off like usual. “Um, Silver? A-aren’t you supposed to be training?”

Silver blinks awake, giving you a sleepy smile. “Oh, hello. Training? Right, yes, I was. I… took a short rest.”

You fidget, eyes darting around nervously. “W-well, um, I don’t want to interrupt… but could you help me? I think I lost the Queen’s letter again.”

Silver nods slowly, rubbing his eyes. “Of course. But first, you need to breathe. You’re more jittery than the dormouse.”

You force a shaky breath in, nodding. “R-right. Breathe. I can do that.”

Silver gives you a thumbs-up. “Good. Just stay calm. We’ll find it together.”

And then he promptly falls asleep again.

You stare at him, exasperated. “S-Silver?!”

Sebek Zigvolt:

Sebek is flabbergasted by your lack of composure. It drives him nuts—but also, he thinks you’re kind of adorable, like a helpless bunny.

“YOU!” Sebek bellows, making you flinch so hard you almost trip over yourself. “HOW CAN YOU BE THIS INCOMPETENT?!”

You cringe, clutching your ears. “I-I’m sorry! I’m trying my best, I swear!”

Sebek huffs, crossing his arms. “YOUR BEST IS BARELY ADEQUATE! YOU MUST STRIVE FOR PERFECTION, LIKE LORD MALLEUS!”

You gulp, nodding frantically. “R-right! I’ll… I’ll try harder!”

Sebek looks at your terrified face and sighs, his tone softening just a bit. “FINE, FINE. JUST DON’T MESS UP AGAIN. HERE.”

He hands you the paper you dropped, his ears turning slightly pink. “AND STOP LOOKING SO SCARED. IT’S… DISTRACTING.”

You blink at him, surprised. “D-distracting?”

“YES!” he shouts, clearly flustered. “NOW GO! LORD MALLEUS EXPECTS PERFECTION!”

You scurry away, leaving Sebek to mutter to himself, face flushed. “Such a weak little rabbit…”

Rollo Flamme:

Rollo tries so hard not to be charmed by you, really. He doesn’t like distractions, and you’re the most distracting bunny he’s ever met.

“Are you lost again?” Rollo asks with a sigh, watching as you nervously peek around a corner.

You jump, ears twitching. “O-oh, Rollo! I was just, um… trying to find the courtyard…”

Rollo pinches the bridge of his nose. “You’ve passed it three times already.”

You fumble with your hands, embarrassment turning your face pink. “I-I was just… making sure it was the right one…”

Rollo looks at your big, earnest eyes and sighs again, softer this time. “You’re hopeless,” he mutters. Then, reluctantly, he reaches for your hand, leading you back the way you came. “Come on. I can’t leave you wandering around all day.”

You follow behind him, ears drooping. “S-sorry…”

Rollo shakes his head, not even looking back. “Just try not to get lost again.”

You can’t help but smile a little. “I-I’ll try.”

Neige LeBlanche:

Neige thinks you’re the cutest thing ever. He’s the kind of person who immediately wants to be friends with you, especially because you look so nervous all the time.

“Hello!” Neige waves, beaming at you from across the way.

You blink, startled. “O-oh, um… hello, Neige…”

Neige practically skips over to you, his smile never faltering. “Are you okay? You look a little lost.”

You nod rapidly, trying not to be intimidated by his energy. “Y-yes, I’m fine! Just a little… um…”

“Aw, don’t worry!” Neige says, giving you an encouraging pat on the back. “You’ve got this! I believe in you!”

You stare at him, completely baffled. “You… you do?”

Neige nods earnestly. “Of course! And if you need any help, just let me know, okay? I’ll be your bunny buddy!”

Your ears twitch at the nickname, and you manage a shaky smile. “O-okay… Thank you, Neige.”

Dire Crowley:

Crowley finds your constant worrying both exhausting and oddly entertaining. He’s never seen anyone so concerned about breaking every single rule.

“Ah, You!” Crowley calls out, catching you just as you’re about to dash off with a stack of paperwork. “Do you have the reports I asked for?”

You freeze, turning to him with wide eyes. “R-reports? Oh no, I—I thought I delivered those to Professor Trein!”

Crowley sighs dramatically, putting a hand to his forehead. “Of course, of course. Why must I be surrounded by such incompetent students?”

You fidget, looking down at your feet. “I-I’m sorry, Headmaster… I’ll go get them right away—”

Crowley waves a hand dismissively. “No, no, I suppose it can wait. You do look like you’re about to pass out from all the running.”

Your ears droop, and you mumble, “I-I’m not… I’m just… very busy…”

He chuckles, shaking his head. “Well, do try not to collapse before lunch, won’t you? I can’t have students fainting in my halls.”

You nod, scurrying away. Crowley watches you go, muttering to himself, “Honestly, there's no one more magnanimous than me…”

Divus Crewel:

Crewel is exasperated by your anxious behavior. He wants you to be confident, but instead, you’re always shaking in your boots.

“[Name], if you can’t handle a simple potion assignment, how do you expect to survive in this world?” Crewel says, his tone sharp as he points at your cauldron.

You gulp, ears twitching. “I-I’m sorry, Professor… I just, um, thought I might have put too much wormroot…”

Crewel raises an eyebrow. “Too much? Or not enough? Make up your mind, pup.”

Your eyes widen, and you flinch. “R-right! I-I mean, um, not enough—no, wait…”

Crewel sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “This is hopeless.” Then, with a softer tone, he adds, “Focus. You can do this, but not if you keep second-guessing every move.”

You take a deep breath, nodding. “Y-yes, Professor.”

Crewel watches as you go back to your work, and though he doesn’t say it, there’s a hint of a smile on his face. “Perhaps there’s hope for you yet.”

Mozus Trein:

Trein is generally strict, but even he can’t bring himself to be too harsh with you. Your anxious nature reminds him of some of his more timid students in the past.

“You’re late to class again,” Trein says, giving you a stern look.

You flinch, clutching your bag close. “I-I’m so sorry, Professor… I got lost in the halls again…”

Trein sighs, shaking his head. “You’ve been here long enough to know the way, haven’t you?”

You nod, ears drooping. “Y-yes, sir… I just… it’s the Queen’s court day, and I was trying to avoid… um…”

Trein raises an eyebrow, his expression softening slightly. “Avoid the Queen’s wrath, hm?” He nods, as if understanding completely. “Well, see that it doesn’t happen again. And try to relax. You won’t learn anything if you’re always in a state of panic.”

You bow deeply, almost knocking over your desk in the process. “Y-yes, Professor Trein! Thank you!”

Trein sighs as you scurry to your seat, muttering to himself, “Poor child… so much anxiety…”

Ashton Vargas:

Vargas can’t help but laugh at your feeble attempts at physical activity. You’re about as coordinated as a baby deer—and just as panicked.

“Alright, everyone! Time for a run around the track!” Vargas shouts, blowing his whistle.

You gulp, your ears already drooping at the thought of running. “U-um, Professor Vargas, I’m not sure I’m… physically… capable…”

Vargas claps you on the back, nearly sending you sprawling. “Nonsense! Every beastman’s got it in them! Even you, little bunny!”

You try to protest, but he’s already started the timer. You stumble forward, your legs shaky, and you can hear Vargas laughing from behind.

“Look at that! The rabbit is really running for their life!” Vargas calls out, and the whole class turns to watch you struggle around the track.

You feel your face burn, but you keep running, heart pounding. It’s either run or face Vargas’s motivational speeches again, and honestly, you’re not sure which is worse.

Sam:

Sam loves seeing you in his shop, mostly because you’re so jumpy it’s easy to sneak up on you—unintentionally, of course. He finds your reactions amusing.

“Hello, hello!” Sam calls out as you walk into his shop, and you jump about a foot in the air.

“Ah—M-Mister Sam! I-I didn’t see you there!” you stammer, clutching your chest like your heart might leap out.

Sam laughs, leaning over the counter. “You’re always so jittery, little bunny. Relax! I’ve got just the thing to calm those nerves…” He pulls out a small vial of something labeled “Relaxation Remedy.”

You eye the bottle suspiciously. “Um… t-that’s not… gonna put me to sleep, is it?”

He chuckles, shaking his head. “Not unless you drink the whole bottle, friend.” He winks. “I’m just lookin’ out for ya, y’know?”

You nod, still unsure but grateful. “T-thank you… I’ll, um… take one, I guess…”

Sam smiles, putting the vial in a bag for you. “No problem, little imp. Come back if you need more!”

You nod, scurrying out of the shop. Sam watches you leave, shaking his head with a grin. “That one’s gonna give themselves a heart attack one day…”

Grim:

Grim likes to think he’s the bravest in the group, but even he can see you’re worse off than him in the bravery department. He likes to boss you around, mostly to feel better about himself.

“Oi, bunny!” Grim shouts, jumping onto your desk. “You got my homework done yet?”

You squeak, nearly toppling out of your chair. “Y-your homework?! Grim, I—I can’t keep doing your work for you…”

Grim pouts, waving a paw at you. “Oh, come on! You’re already nervous all the time—what’s a little extra stress, huh?”

You huff, fidgeting with your pen. “G-Grim, I’m already at my limit! I-I’ve got the Queen’s orders, and Riddle’s rules, and now you want me to—”

Grim interrupts, hopping closer and giving you a smug grin. “Yeah, yeah, I get it, you’re a busy bunny. But you know, if you help me, I’ll… uh, protect you from any monsters! Yeah, how about that?”

You blink, considering it. “P-protect me? From monsters?”

Grim nods, puffing out his chest. “Yup! I’m the Great Grim, after all! I’m basically a professional monster hunter.”

You stare at him, unsure, your ears slowly drooping. “I-I guess… that would be helpful…”

Grim smirks, satisfied. “See? I knew you’d come around!” He jumps off your desk, tail flicking with glee. “Alright, I’ll be back later to pick up my homework. Make sure it’s perfect, okay?”

You sigh, watching him strut away. “H-how did I even get myself into this…?”

Grim doesn’t hear you, already daydreaming about what snack he’ll demand from you next. “It’s good to be the boss,” he mutters, chuckling to himself.

You slump in your seat, wondering if there would ever come a day when you’re not running around doing everyone’s bidding. But then again, you think, maybe that’s just the fate of a White Rabbit…

Masterlist

[thewinter-eden]

Upcoming Sequels

Crack!Horror SKZ Series Part 2s :

Sequels to original one shots. Dark comedies with gritty themes, satirical humor, and happy endings. These are meant to be STUPID and FUNNY, not imperative literature. Light or suggested romance, sfw. I still don’t condone any of these behaviors btw.

Bang Chan

Part 2 (You Live Like This?) - home invader!Chris makes good on his promise to rob your ex to avenge your painful breakup, only to find that you're already there trying to collect your belongings. In order to keep your ex-bf from including you as an accomplice in his inevitable police report, you have to pretend you don't know the robber who keeps flirting with you. Satirical robbery, verbally abusive ex, fake threats against you and your ex, cheesy Chris, exasperated reader, coffee.

Lee Know

Part 2 (That Your Man?) - mugger!Minho patrols his usual haunts, one of which being the parking lot where you first met. One night, mid-mugging, he sees you through the window of the coffee shop where he first bought you cake--but you're there with the man he thought you were going to break up with. He decides stealing girlfriends (or, rather, you) is now included in his job description. Mugging, Minho still has a gun, asshole bf (still), evidence of past successful muggings, fake boyfriend.

Seo Changbin

Part 2 (Blink Twice if You Need Help) - stalker!Changbin has been banned from your new house. Despite his tendencies, you like him and you want to keep seeing him, but you have one rule: he has to give up his stalking ways and get to know you organically. Unfortunately, it seems, some habits die hard. Changbin's bad at dating, Changbin watches you sleep (okay Edward), patient reader, humorous confrontation, Changbin getting caught (multiple times), role play jokes

Hwang Hyunjin

Part 2 (Don't Look At Me Like That) - hitman!Hyunjin is now your roommate. He's keeping you hidden from your father, who desperately wants your 25-million-dollar trust fund, even if it means ending your life to get it. As your condition worsens and the attempts on your life increase, it's getting harder and harder for Hyunjin to keep you alive until your birthday. Cancer, numerous assassination attempts, asshole father, sweet Hyunjin, exasperated Hyunjin, reader is having the time of her life watching assassins fail, cake.

Han Jisung

Part 2 (You Called?) - demon!Jisung has made a deal with you. Your friendship for his protection. Now, you have a demon randomly popping up all over your life - in your apartment, on your dates, at school, in your car - and you're finally getting used to it. What you're not used to, however, is being picked on by other demons who want to know why Jisung's spending so much time with you. Dorky demon Jisung, threatening vibes from the other demons, trickery and tormenting, dancing.

Lee Felix

Part 2/3 (All Ye Who Enter Here) - ghost!Felix is one of the many souls trapped in your haunted house, much like yourself. You've just found out that you're capable of shouldering the responsibility of helping your victims find new life after death, unlike the way your mother allowed hers to fade. NOTE: when I posted All Ye Who Enter Here on AO3 (username the_winter_eden), I posted both pt-I and pt-II as a single 5k part. I know this story was confusing and a lot of people got stuck in the nuance rather than having a more direct storytelling approach. I don't currently have another part planned but I'm open to exploring this further if people want it. It would concern reader's journey in atonement for the victims she killed during her life and possibly turning Blacktree House into kind of a "found family" situation (it's crack!horror it can be wildly unrealistic lol) Just let me know! And let me know if there's something specific you would want to see in an additional part.

Kim Seungmin

Part 2 (Damn Puppy Dog Eyes) - werewolf!Seungmin summary coming soon...

Yang Jeongin

Part 2 (Do You Need A Straw?) - vampire!Jeongin summary coming soon...

Sequels for the remaining members will be added once original posts are complete.

Comment a request to be tagged!

Comment or ask any thoughts/suggestions you have, as these will most likely be the final parts for these storylines.

Thank you all for so many notes and kind words!

tag list: @whatdoyouwanttocallmefor @estella-novella @babyphotos0325 @softfor-svtptg @furfoxsake22 @tubelightanyaa @kayleefriedchicken @rockstarkkami @sp1derst0rrr @eastjonowhere @its-stayville-forever @allenajade-ite @naraportokala @jinniejjam @blackberryrains @feetoffthemalfoy @highandalive @scarlet789 @ramadiiiisme

[aventurineswife]

Love and Boundaries

Tags: @aloudice, Dad!Aventurine x Parent!Reader, Established Relationship, Parenting, Family Fluff, Soft Aventurine, Parental Support, Gentle Reprimand, Disciplining, Love and Respect, Family Bond, Protective Aventurine.

[Inspired By]

Aventurine stood near the doorway of the living room, his eyes carefully following the scene unfolding before him. The soft hum of the evening air mingled with the occasional scolding tone of your voice as you gently but firmly reprimanded your child.

“You know better than this, sweetheart,” you said, keeping your tone calm but serious. “You can’t just go around breaking things because you're angry.”

The child, their small face scrunched up in frustration, crossed their arms tightly over their chest. Their eyes flickered with defiance before they muttered, “I hate you! I don’t care about your stupid rules!”

Aventurine’s lips pressed into a thin line, his mind whirring through the possibilities of how to handle the situation. He could see the irritation and hurt in your expression, a look that immediately triggered a protective instinct inside him.

The child, in a fit of anger, stepped toward you, fists clenched, eyes burning with rebellious fire. Without warning, they swung their hand toward you, aiming to hit you in an outburst of frustration.

Your heart dropped at the sudden move, but before the impact could land, Aventurine was there, his presence a calming yet assertive force in the room.

“Enough.” he said, his voice low but commanding. His figure seemed to fill the doorway as he approached, his demeanor far more imposing than it had been just moments ago. His hand reached out, gently grasping the child’s wrist mid-swing, halting them in their tracks.

“You do not lay a hand on them,” Aventurine continued, his gaze unwavering, now focused solely on his child. His voice was sharper, colder, but still held that underlying warmth that only you could recognize. “That may be your parent, but that is my spouse, and you will not be disrespecting them like that.”

The child’s eyes widened in shock, their defiance crumbling at the sternness in their father’s voice. Aventurine’s eyes flickered with a mix of concern and disappointment, yet his love for you shone clearly through his words.

“You need to learn respect,” he said, kneeling down to meet the child’s eye level, his hand still holding their wrist. “This kind of behavior is not acceptable, not in this house, and certainly not toward your other parent.”

You stood quietly, your heart swelling with love and relief. Aventurine had always been able to maintain control, but his fierceness in protecting you, in teaching their child to respect boundaries, made you feel seen, cherished.

The child slowly lowered their gaze, their anger subsiding, replaced by a quiet sadness.

“I’m sorry…” they muttered, their voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t mean it.”

Aventurine released their wrist, placing a gentle hand on their shoulder. “I know you didn’t mean it,” he said softly, his tone shifting to one of understanding. “But you need to understand that actions have consequences. Words have weight. We don’t lash out at people we love.”

The room fell into a brief silence, the tension easing as Aventurine’s words sank in. He turned to you, a soft smile creeping onto his lips, the playful gleam in his eyes returning.

“You’re okay?” he asked, concern lacing his voice as he reached out to cup your cheek with one hand.

You nodded, your heart warming from his unwavering support. “I’m fine. Thank you, Aventurine.”

His smile deepened, his eyes softening. “You know I would do anything for you, right?”

“Yeah, I know.”

With a soft laugh, he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a tender embrace. His child, now standing a little further away, seemed to be processing what had just happened. Aventurine’s hand gently rested on your back, a symbol of the unity that kept you all together, no matter how complicated things got.

In that quiet moment, you realized that, despite the challenges of raising a child together, there was no greater feeling than having a partner who would always stand by you—someone who loved you and your family, and who would protect you from anything that tried to tear you apart.

[Jing Yuan ver]

[disneyprincemuke]

in the name of friendly racing * fem!driver

a simple race on their scooters flips the entire paddocks upside down

pairings: liam lawson x fem!driver, logan sargeant x fem!driver, mick schumacher x fem!driver, oscar piastri x fem!driver

notes: hello everyone i know i haven't posted a vr piece and it's all because i couldn't fully grasp the fact that femdriver and logan are not together in this universe but i took a break from them and yes i'm coping well, but no i will not stop tearing up about their love story k? anyway, i think this is MID compared to other crack fics i've written but i'm trying i promise

(series masterlist) | (📂 the rookie season)

she holds up the scooter in one hand, the other on her hip as she leans into the tablet in liam's hands. "what's the route again?"

"are you stupid?" logan asks.

"no, do you want to not join us?" she asks quickly, lifting her head to glare at the american across her. she darts her arm out and shoves logan back. "i'll disqualify you right here, right now. you wanna spend your afternoon in your driver's room like a loser like the rest of them?"

"he sent it to the group chat, how can you still not know the route?" logan scoffs, narrowing his eyes down into a glare.

"i'm just making sure!"

"relax," liam mutters, holding a hand up in an attempt to break up the fight that he's sure would happen if he doesn't interfere. "i'll disqualify you both."

"just tell me the route," mick sighs, shaking his head. he steps forward and tilts his head to try and get a look at the screen under the scorching sun above them. "no cheating, okay?"

logan huffs. "tell that to her."

she throws her head back and rolls her eyes. "god, logan!" she winds her arm back and darts an arm out to grab logan's sweatshirt. she bundles it up into her hands and tries to yank logan towards her.

"okay!" mick cries out, grabbing her wrist and pulling her away from logan. he carefully, finger by finger, removes her hand from grasping his sweatshirt and pushes her back. he then guides logan two steps away. "the race hasn't even started yet!"

oscar pops his head between the girl and liam. "are you sure you should be doing this?"

"of course," liam mutters, glancing at oscar. "why are you here? i thought you didn't want anything to do with us if we went through with this?"

"yeah, but i'm curious. so i know which places to avoid - i wouldn't want to get run over by road rager over here," he gestures to her and then at logan, "and mr. beating-(y/n)-is-my-life's-mission over there."

"she can't possibly be beating me at every single thing!" logan cries, throwing his arms in the air, and pointing over at her.

"sore loser!"

"okay, so we're starting here," liam points at where they're standing. "we start at williams."

"are you guys going to the pitlane?" oscar questions.

"no, are you crazy? do you want somebody to kill us?" mick scoffs. "i'd get my scooter rights taken away from me!"

"yeah," liam agrees with a nod. he throws oscar a judgemental stare, absolutely bewildered at the thought that they would be racing at the area where literal cars could be driving out. he looks back down at the ipad. "anyway."

"we zip between the racing homes," logan mutters, tracing the map of the paddocks that they'd pulled up from the internet. "and then we make a round around the interview table and the finish line is back here. don't forget to zip through the racing homes again."

"exactly," liam nods. "everyone aware of the rules?"

"you guys had the time to come up with rules?" oscar laughs. "seriously?"

"no shortcuts," mick says, turning his head to look at the younger girl. he grabs her wrist. "have you got your watch on so we can track the route everyone takes for the race?"

"yes. i'm a fair racer, above all," she scowls, retracting her arm from mick. "and we stop for everyone who calls us, yes? especially the fans."

"easy," logan nods, a smirk stretching his lips. "suddenly i'm kind of thankful nobody really likes me."

"what? don't say that," she grunts. "i like you. we like you."

"break it up, lovebirds. we are not friends, we're competitors," liam mutters. "you guys got the glasses (y/n) stole from seb's office?"

"i didn't steal them. we're borrowing them!" she rolls her eyes and crosses her arms. "don't break them - seb doesn't know i took them from his office."

"oh, i'm pretty sure charles would have let you borrow his if you asked," oscar whispers. when she turns her head to glare at him, oscar lifts his arms up to surrender. "but, you know. what do i know?"

"well i'm not sponsored by rayban - my glasses aren't here yet. i get when everybody else gets them," she frowns. "and, i don't wanna bother charles. it's okay."

"so you snuck into seb's office instead."

"it's not sneaking in if the door was wide open," she laughs, rolling her eyes. "duh?"

"ah, is that why you needed me to keep a lookout in the hallway?" logan says.

"shut up. i'm going to beat you," she mutters, pointing at logan with a threatening finger.

"okay, so are we clear about the rules?" liam puts the ipad down and looks around. "we've literally tried to make it as foolproof as possible. there's no way you guys can find ways to cheat, right?" he turns to her. "right?"

"i don't know why you keep looking at me - i'm a fair racer! you should be asking mick if he's going to be honest about this one!"

"why me? isn't logan desperate to keep the paper mache cup that we made three nights ago?"

"in my defence, i still believe i should keep it even if i lose because i worked on it the entire night. all you fuckers did was play overcooked and scream at each other in mick's hotel room."

"okay, shut up and race," oscar mutters, flailing his arms in the air to dismiss their huddle. "are you guys ready? can i start the race for you?"

"for someone who doesn't want to be a part of this, you sure are pushy," she mutters, turning on her heel to hop onto her scooter. "are we ready? apple watches and rayban glasses on?"

she takes the sunglasses that have been resting on the collar of her blouse and puts it on. she turns to her left and points at logan. "i'm gonna crush you."

logan pushes the sunglasses up his nose, looking ahead and doesn't spare her another glance. "sure."

"okay, okay," oscar cheers, clapping his hands. he reaches into his back pocket and reveals a red handkerchief. "turned your scooters on? everybody got their smart watches and smart glasses on?"

"start the race, cunt!"

oscar's lip twitches. "anyway. be safe, you guys. we have a race this weekend."

"i don't," mick smiles. "stay safe, though."

"start the race before i do it myself, bitch!"

"liam, shut the fuck up!" she shrieks, stepping off her scooter momentarily to whack him on the arm.

"god!" liam screams, his arm darting out to whack her as a response. "the race is going to start and you're not going to-"

"go!" oscar shouts, waving the handkerchief into the air. he darts to the side to get out of their way with a giggle.

almost immediately, logan and mick have already pulled back their handles, darting away from the williams racing home. she shrieks and shoves liam, causing him to lose his balance slightly, hops onto her scooter and drives away.

"oh, liam!" a deep voice calls. "i've been looking for you everywhere!"

"fuck's sake," liam sighs, shaking his head as he turns to see christian walking up to him. but he smiles as he is approached by the team principal. "yeah, christian?"

up ahead, she frowns to herself as she watches mick and logan racing head to head. there's no way to catch up to them on these scooters - it's simply not like an f1 car. she can only bank on the fact that someone, somehow, will stop them to give her some sort of window to pass them.

with the little number of people in the paddocks on a wednesday for the weekend proves that they should have done this early in the afternoon on friday. there could have been more obstacles and distractions for them.

if only the boys had listened to her.

she shrieks when she sees george flagging mick down ahead of the alpine racing home, forcing mick to come to slow stop. she screeches loudly when she passes mick, her hair being blown back by the wind and speed she's going at.

"thanks, george!" she screams, momentarily waving at the brit as she passes the mercedes pair. she can see logan ahead of her, speeding and manoeuvring around the crowd flawlessly by the ferrari home.

surely, somebody will recognise him and pull him to a stop, right? if nobody does, she can only hope that alex is somewhere in the paddocks wondering where his rookie has gone.

the race, objectively, is going fine for her. logan was momentarily stopped by a williams engineer. she passes them screeching, also thanking the nameless woman and waving at logan smugly as she accelerates her scooter.

when she does that, her eyes widen when she sees mick also passing logan. she has no idea where liam has gone, or if christian has even let him go from their conversation at the back of the paddocks.

she does get stopped, once, by susie who stops her to ask her a question. it was a simple question that she easily had the answer to and susie let her off in seconds. she excitedly presses a kiss on the older woman's cheek and quickly accelerates away, shocked that mick is suddenly riding next to her.

behind them is logan trailing shortly, and liam's conversation with christian is actually short. so behind logan is liam, held back by a couple of seconds only.

it's just that christian had overheard them whispering earlier that day about their race and he had lurked by the williams racing home to mess with his driver.

she, unfortunately, does get stopped another time, by a fan that was being brought around for a tour of the paddocks ahead of the race weekend. she grumbled under her breath when the three boys passed her: mick mimicking her shrill screech, logan passing her with his fingers in an 'L' shape, then liam simply ignoring her.

the race is short. suddenly they're all at the final stretch, now circled back at the ferrari racing home as they aim to make it to the finish line where oscar sits in a plastic chair, hunched over as he texts his girlfriend.

she screeches when she sees mick come to a stop right by the aston martin home. it's then questionable when she sees logan stop, and then liam. and suddenly she's getting flagged down by liam.

she rolls her eyes and ignores them, clearly being sore losers that she is now destined to win their little race. she goes right past them, slowing down slightly since it seems that she is the only competitor left in the race.

"(y/n)!" she hears a familiar accent. her eyes widen as she looks back, seeing sebastian with his hands on his hips, surrounded by her friends with the guiltiest expressions on their faces.

it all happens very fast. she had all intentions to slow down and go back to where they were, but she hadn't seen the rock up ahead.

if only she'd been looking ahead.

the front wheel of her scooter is caught against the stone, sending both her and the vehicle flying forward. "fuck!" she screams, her arms stretching out to try and break the fall.

"oh, my god!"

"that's going to hurt."

"are you stupid?"

"are you okay?"

she stays in her spot for a couple of seconds as she tries to digest the events of what just happened to her. one second, she had been on her scooter, the next she's knelt on the ground with her hands planted into the ground.

then it hits her: all of the pain from her fall.

she removes her hands from the ground and blinks rapidly, allowing the blood to seep from her now wounded palms. she feels it in her knees, surely scraping her favourite pair of pants when she had skidded against the floor. one of sebastian's pair of raybans is strewn not too far from her on the ground.

her scooter is ahead of her, which oscar is now bent over and pushing it upright.

she looks up, meeting logan's eyes with a hand over his mouth.

"it's not funny!"

"it's a little funny," logan shrugs before he bends down to meet her. "are you okay?"

tears immediately well in her eyes. she stretches out her hands and shows logan her injured palms. "i hurt my hands!"

"we can see that." mick is the next to kneel next to her, taking her hands into his. he moves her hands about and tries to assess her wounds. "we should get you back to your room and treat these."

"where are my glasses, you fucking- seriously, (y/n)?" she hears sebastian mutter. she lifts her head and watches sebastian pick up the pair from the ground and turn to her. "seriously? a race on the scooter i had to beg to get you?"

"it was liam's idea!" she cries, wiping her eye on the sleeve of her blouse. "he challenged me!"

"it was premeditated!" liam screams in an attempt to defend himself. "she said we would race once you got her scooter approved!"

"shut the fuck up!" she screeches, reaching out to push liam. "i told you not to tell on me!"

"okay, enough fighting," oscar sighs. he bends over and is the only one to think that she should not let her wounds be against the dirty ground for too long. "come on, let's get you all patched up."

"but my knees!" she cries, sniffling as she looks down at her scraped jeans. there's a small hole on both of her knees, the edges seeped with blood and small matching wounds on either. "i can't-"

"enough crying, drama queen," logan mutters, already hunched over and tapping his shoulders. "i'll carry you back. stop crying."

taglist: @wcnorris @treehouse-mouse @laura-naruto-fan1998 @mindless-rock @vellicore @leilanixx @ironmaiden1313 @angsthology @cherry-piee @christianpulisic10 @elliegrey2803 @cashtons-wife @sadg3 @a10vely-yutazen @mellowarcadefun @glitterf1 @megatrilss1885 @peqch-pie @gentlyweeps-world @woozarts @inejismywife @meadhgbcavanagh @2bormaybenot @love4lando

[delta-piscium]

Steddie | 1.7k words it is (swedish) midsummer so I wrote this based on my favorite old tradition because I can and will make anything steddie, so like glad midsommar (happy midsummer)

“What are you doing?” Steve asks as he follows Eddie to the hallway where he’s frantically putting on his shoes. 

“I almost forgot,” he mutters under his breath not acknowledging Steve at all.

“Forgot what?” 

“I can’t believe I almost forgot.” 

“Eddie,” Steve says a little louder, more adamant.

He does look up at Steve then and almost looks surprised to see him. As if he’d forgotten he was there, as if they haven’t been hanging out for hours. 

“Oh,” he says. “Uhm,” he squints at Steve who waits for him to continue, to explain. He doesn’t.

“Yes?” Steve implores because he would really like an explanation. Eddie had just abruptly stood up halfway through telling Steve about some folklore he’s using in his new campaign, just cut himself off mid-sentence and walked off. Steve doesn’t think it’s especially weird or demanding of him to have questions. 

“Did you have other plans that you just now remembered?” Steve frowns, starting to feel unsure when Eddie still isn’t saying anything. It’s just past eleven at night and Steve doesn’t know what plans those would be but he had showed up unannounced earlier in the evening so it’s not impossible that Eddie had plans that Steve interrupted. 

“No, no, no,” Eddie assures him finally breaking his silence, “it’s- okay it’s a little silly but I read this thing researching and I want to try it.” 

And well, okay then.

Steve raises his eyebrows and waves his hand gesturing for Eddie to go on. 

Eddie’s cheeks turn a light pink and he resolutely looks somewhere above Steve’s shoulder instead of at him. 

“Midsummer, which is today, is supposed to be this magical night and there are all these traditions and old myths about it.” 

Eddie glances at Steve and he smiles. Tries to show he’s listening and wants to know whatever thing Eddie read about. 

“And well, okay so there’s this one tradition where you pick seven different kinds of flowers before you go to bed and then put them under your pillow and you’re supposed to dream about who you’re gonna spend your life with.” 

Steve blinks, wasn’t expecting that and doesn’t know what to say about it, so, he blinks again. 

“Maybe it’s dumb, but with all we’ve seen magic and folklore don’t seem so far-fetched and,” he shrugs, “I wanna try. And like, it’s close to midnight and I don’t know if that’s a rule but I don’t wanna risk messing it up.”

“It- huh,” Steve frowns slightly and looks at his shoes then back at Eddie. “Yeah alright, let’s do it. Can’t hurt right?” 

His voice is light, like it’s not a big deal and just a fun thing Eddie read about because that’s what it is, isn’t it? But something about it settles deep in Steve’s gut. Makes it feel important in a way he’s not sure he could explain if he tried. Maybe it’s just the fact that Eddie is getting so worked up about the possibility of dreaming about the person he’s gonna spend his life with when Steve maybe a little bit wishes it would be him, but like, only a little. 

Eddie looks at him with wide eyes like he didn’t expect Steve to want to join, like maybe he expected Steve to make fun of him for wanting to do it. But then something seems to switch in him and a slow smile spreads over his face and he gives Steve an exaggerated once over. 

“Looking to find your true love huh, Harrington?” 

“I thought you said it was the person you spend your life with, not the same as true love necessarily.” Steve quips back because technicalities are easier to argue over than answering that question, especially when Eddie is the one asking.

Eddie shrugs. “Different sources say different things, sometimes it’s true love sometimes it’s who you marry.” 

“Well, then I guess we’re both looking to find our true loves?” Steve hedges, drags Eddie down with him if they’re gonna go there. 

A soft look passes Eddie’s face before a responds, voice quieter. “Guess we are, yeah.” 

They pick their flowers in silence, something about the magic being broken if you speak. Walking around the edge of the woods behind Eddie’s trailer a couple of feet apart, every once in a while coming together or crossing paths. 

After, Steve stands in between Eddie’s trailer and his own car. Holding on to his bouquet of seven flowers unsure what to do. He could go home, he should go home, but he doesn’t want to. He did have some beers hours ago and if he was allowed to speak he’d use that as an excuse to not drive and ask Eddie to crash on his couch. Right now he can’t though so he sighs inwardly and turns to his car. 

He makes it about two steps before a hand reaches out and grips him around his free wrist stopping him. When he turns around Eddie is giving him a look that very clearly says ‘stop being stupid’ and jerks his head towards the trailer silently telling Steve to go with him. He doesn’t let go though and uses his grip on Steve to drag him along like he can’t be sure Steve will actually listen and follow. As if Steve would ever not follow Eddie. 

They quickly get ready for bed. And again when Steve walks toward the couch Eddie grabs him and shakes his head. He waves his arms around a bit like that’s supposed to explain anything but Steve isn’t too bothered about an explanation anyways and easily follows Eddie to his bedroom. 

They’ve shared a bed before but always when they’ve been drunk or high so this feels different. Steve is a little glad they can’t speak or he’s sure he’d blurt out something way too revealing about it all. 

He avoids looking at Eddie as he tucks his flowers in under his pillow, knows Eddie is doing the same next to him. Is aware of it only being an old myth from a region halfway across the world but there’s a weight to it. Something real and tangible. 

He expects it to take a while for him to fall asleep like it always does. For him to twist and turn and lay awake until the early morning. For once though, that doesn’t happen. With the weight of Eddie next to him and to the sounds of his soft breathing and small movements, Steve falls asleep.

And he dreams. He dreams of big brown eyes and bright laughter. Of wild hair and warm arms embracing him. He dreams of growing old next to someone and how every wrinkle on their face tells a story of their shared love. 

He wants to stay in the dream forever, desperately tries to hold onto it even as he floats into consciousness. He turns and groans, gets a mess of someone’s hair in his mouth and nose and that’s enough to startle him into full wakefulness. 

Eddie grumbles next to him, clearly also just waking up. Steve looks at him, with his wild hair and his big brown eyes that are slowly blinking open and of course. Of course, it was Eddie he dreamed about.

Their eyes meet and Eddie freezes. Eyes widening as he looks back at Steve. 

“Oh,” he says. 

And yeah, oh.

“Eddie?” Steve asks, unsure of how to bring it up, to ask about it. If he even should? 

He puts on a teasing smile, even though he feels like goo inside, but making it lighthearted is all he can think of because what if he’s taking this whole thing way too seriously? Jumping to conclusions? 

“Dream of anyone?” 

Eddie nods and looks away, “I did.” He says it simply, voice careful. 

And maybe it isn’t just Steve.

“Who?” He asks, dropping the teasing tone. 

Eddie swallows and looks back at Steve. “The person I wanted to dream of,” he says and it’s not really an answer but he’s looking at Steve so intently he thinks it still might be. 

He thinks about Eddie’s quiet but delighted surprise at Steve wanting to join him yesterday. About Eddie dragging him first into his trailer and then into his bed. How they’re so close on Steve’s side of the bed and Eddie must have drifted towards him in his sleep.

He bites his lip to stop his smile from spreading too wide, there’s still a chance he’s misinterpreting things, “yeah?” 

“Yeah.” 

“And who would that be?” Steve asks, leaning in even closer until he feels Eddie’s small puffs of breath across his face. 

“You,” Eddie whispers but Steve hears it clearly. 

He takes a moment to bask in it, to let it wash over him before he responds.

“That’s good,” Steve tells him eventually and Eddie’s eyes are so wide and open, and so pretty, “because I dreamt of you.” 

He knows it’s cheesy so he doesn’t give Eddie time to respond, just leans in and closes the remaining gap between them. Slots their lips together. Eddie gasps into the kiss, grabs Steve by the hair, and pulls him in. Makes all these cute noises that make Steve want and want and want. 

He shifts, goes to put his leg in between Eddie’s to move on top of him and get a better angle. But he only gets halfway before Eddie grabs his hips and twists them around. Pushes Steve flat on his back and straddles him. 

He grins down at Steve. 

“You think the Scandinavian magic worked or was it just dream psychology and wishful thinking?” 

“Does it matter?” Steve asks, way too earnestly. But like, they’ve just spent this whole time doing some true love magic so he thinks it’s fine, “got what I wanted.” 

“It’s forever though,” Eddie points out, bending down to bite at Steve’s jaw, “if we believe the old Norse people.” 

Steve hears the question there, thinks this might be Eddie’s way of asking what this means to Steve. His way of telling Steve this isn’t just a hookup for him.

“God yeah,” Steve exhales, “I fucking hope so.” 

He feels Eddie smile into his neck and grabs his hair, uses it to pull him back and steer him into another kiss. 

[writingtips-resources]

Here's How I Structure a Multi-POV Novel Without Confusion

Multi-POV novels—the kind that can either be a masterpiece or an absolute mess if you’re not careful.

When I first started writing one, I thought, How hard could it be?

But now, after some trial, error, and a lot of coffee-fueled nights, I’ve nailed down a structure that keeps things clear and engaging for readers.

Let me walk you through it—step by step

The First Rule is Every POV Must Have a Purpose and Unique Voice

If a POV doesn’t add something valuable to the story—cut it. Readers shouldn’t have to wade through pointless internal monologues about side character #47's childhood traumas.

Ask yourself:

Does this POV reveal crucial information the reader wouldn’t otherwise know?

Does it deepen emotional stakes?

Does it move the plot forward?

If you’re nodding along then.....

Good—you’ve earned that POV a seat at the table.

Imagine this:

you’re halfway through a chapter, and you can’t figure out who’s narrating.

Disaster, right?

That’s why giving each character a unique way of speaking, thinking, and being is non-negotiable.

Here’s how I do it:

Lucas: Logical, sharp, always weighing pros and cons. He’d say something like, “Emotions don’t win battles. Plans do.”

Sophie: Spirited, emotional, and unapologetically blunt. Her take? “Oh, great. Another lecture from Mr. Perfect Plan.”

See the difference? It’s not just what they say—it’s how they process the world.

The Second Rule is "Anchor Each POV with a Clear Voice and Goal"

Each character’s perspective should feel distinct. If readers can’t tell your brooding knight from your witty rogue based on narrative voice alone, you’re in trouble.

Try these tips for Voice

Adjust sentence length (a soldier might speak in short, clipped thoughts, while a scholar might ramble).

Use vocabulary that fits their personality.

Keep internal thoughts consistent with their motivations.

Also, keep in mind that "Every POV character has their own agenda".

If Lucas is all about closing a business deal, and Sophie’s trying to uncover the truth about her goddaughter’s past, their internal monologues and actions will naturally feel distinct.

Here’s what that looks like:

Lucas is obsessing over a strategy: “The numbers didn’t lie. If she couldn’t see that, it was her loss.”

Sophie is focused on her next big move: “I wasn’t backing down. Not until I got the answers Alex deserved.”

The goals drive the story forward by keeping their perspectives crystal clear.

The Third Rule is "Make the Transitions Crystal Clear and in Flow

Head-hopping mid-paragraph? Please, no.

Switching POVs mid-scene without a clear break? Also no.

Please understand that "Smooth transitions are key". Instead of jumping abruptly from one character’s head to another, I leave breadcrumbs. Like:

End Lucas’s chapter with: “I’d like to see her try.”

Start Sophie’s chapter with: “Challenge accepted.”

It’s seamless, keeps the pacing intact, and gives readers a little thrill.

Here are three golden rules for smooth transitions:

Use chapter or scene breaks.

Start each new POV with a strong opening line that grounds the reader.

If possible, include the POV character's name at the beginning.

Also, one more thing to add( before i forget)

"Use the setting to ground readers in a character’s world. If the scene opens with a high-rise office view, they’ll know it’s Lucas. If it’s a messy studio with books everywhere, it’s Sophie".

The Fourth Rule is "Keep Timelines Straight"

If two characters are narrating events that happen simultaneously, make sure the timeline aligns. Readers shouldn’t have to create a conspiracy board to figure out who was where and when.

I always create a timeline cheat sheet for myself. Sticky notes. Spreadsheets. Hieroglyphs on my office wall.

Choose-Whatever works for you...

Also, you should Clear Breaks Between POVs

No reader wants to play detective to figure out whose head they’re in. I stick to clear chapter or scene breaks for each POV switch. And yes, I label chapters with the character’s name when needed.

For example:

Chapter 5: Lucas I wasn’t in the mood for interruptions, but Sophie didn’t care about moods. Or interruptions.

Chapter 6: Sophie He looked at me like I’d just derailed his perfectly planned life. Honestly, I probably did."

The fifth Rule is "Maintain the Balance among POVs"

Not every character needs equal screen time, but every POV should feel intentional.

Main characters can carry more chapters.

Side characters should pop in when their perspective really matters.

Readers love patterns. If you’re alternating between two or three characters, stick to that order as much as possible. Don’t go: Lucas, Sophie, Lucas, Sophie, Random Villain. Chaos.

And please, for the love of storytelling, don’t introduce a new POV in the final 10 pages unless you’re trying to give your readers whiplash.

One of my favorite tricks is 👇

Ending a POV with a cliffhanger, then switching to another character. It’s a love-hate moment for readers—they have to keep going to find out what happens.

The Sixth Rule is "Work on Emotional Arcs because They Still Matter"

Every POV character needs their own emotional journey, even if they’re not the protagonist. Readers should care about their stakes, struggles, and triumphs.

Some of Key Emotional Arc Considerations are👇👇👇👇👇

What is the character's primary goal or motivation?

What obstacles or conflicts are preventing them from achieving it?

How does the character evolve or transform by the conclusion of their arc?

NOW, It's time to Test It Out (Seriously)

Hand your manuscript to a beta reader or your critique partner or maybe a writer fellow- and ask:

Did any POVs feel unnecessary?

Were the transitions smooth?

Did you ever feel lost or confused?

If they respond with, “Oh yeah, I knew exactly whose head I was in every chapter,”

Then

Boommmm—you nailed it

Share your favorite examples of well-structured multi-POV novels in the comments, and let’s discuss what made them effective.

Feel free to highlight specific techniques or moments that stood out to you.

free resources, blog, services,

[motherraid]

I can’t find any rules so if your uncomfortable plz feel free to ignore this but I recently found out that when a afab person sits on someone else lap, they can feel the *throb™*

So I’m currently thinking what would Sebek do if during the Masquerade s/o fem!reader ended up sitting on his lap and he felt the throb. What would he do? Would he get hard or would he wonder what it is?

Can I be ✨🎀 anon plz? If you do those kinds of anon thingies lol

Omg of course???!?!?! It's been so long since I've taken an ask from a named anon what you're so nice 😭😭😭

AND YOU HAD TO PULL A SCENARIO FROM MY FAVORITE EVENT TOO ILY

((Grinding, manipulation/gaslighting(??), boners (lol), slight exhibitionism(?? If you squint i think) more big boy words and can't really think or anything else as a description, IM SORRYYY I NEED CHARACTER EXAGGERATION IT'S AN ADDICTION))

Well, well. Back to lap sitting. It seems you all have a certain taste.

Boring answer is he feels it, gets embarrassed, and asks you to get up before he even begins to feel anything. He'd probably offer you his seat and walk off to find another seat he can sit down in. He's red faced, but that's it.

Fun answer?

I believe that Sebek WILL know where it's coming from. I'm sure he has some knowledge in sex ed or smth and if he doesn't, he's still very smart. He can make the connection and what was causing it easily. And when he looks up at you in concealed confusion, he can tell by your nonchalant expression that you aren't doing it on purpose. He assumes it's a natural thing that you shouldn't be ashamed of. So, by that logic, if you feel something hardening under your ass, surely you can understand that it's just natural, right? It's nothing to freak out over, I mean, who wouldn't get hard when there's such a darling sitting in his lap?

And who could possibly have known that something as simple as a pulse could be so alluring?

I mean, if we're talking sweet ol classic Sebek, he'd probably be aaaaabsolutely mortified. His immediate reaction would be to politely tap you on the shoulder and ask you (in the quietest voice he's ever had in his life) to stand so he can use the restroom. He won't even make it to full erection by the time he's flown from the room lol. And as soon as he makes it into semi-privacy, you won't see him for a good while. Well, at least until he can either will his erection to die or pathetically rub one out in a restroom stall like a loser (lmao). Most likely the former. His pride wouldn't allow him to do something so humiliating. If someone heard or caught him whimpering while he spazzes with his dick in his hand mid orgasm he'd truly never show his face in public again.

If you two are in a relationship then maybe he won't be so quick to run away and pitifully consider jacking off to the feeling of you throbbing in his lap- wishing he could feel your throbbing while deliciously stretched around his dick and welcoming every inch deeper into your warm cunt until either he runs out of inches or you run out of space.

No, no. He may just steadily place both hands on each of your thighs and bury his face into the back of your shoulder. Or the crook of your neck depending on how tall you are.

("Please... Just stay here for a moment. I swear that I'll let you up soon.. But for now I need you to stay put... and try not to move too much." )

And uhm.. Mk so you know it's not a Duke post without some sort or freak in there, and I just can not write something without going feral about it and the only way I can go feral about it is if I exaggerate his character so PERVY SEBEK

So if you somehow had managed to sit down in his lap and he feels his zipper area becoming a bit uncomfortable, you'd better have a strong will. The absolute degrading filth this boy will spew into your ears will either have you grinding into his crotch and begging him for more or trying to muffle your hurt/confused sobs. Best believe he ain't going nowhere, and neither are you for your little stunt. Sure, you may not have been intentionally trying to arouse him, but you are the one who insisted on using him as a seat when there are plenty of places to rest. That must have been what you wanted, huh? To see him all red faced and bothered? You probably like seeing him breaking a sweat, lip between his teeth and digging his digits into the underside of the seat. You must loove making him horny. It's like you get a kick out of it. Is it funny for you? To see him in agony?

Well, two can play at that game. Don't even bother acting surprised when he wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you tight to his chest. He might wait for a person or two to pass out of view before his tongue sneaks a quick swipe against your earlobe. His breath is heavy on your neck while he nuzzles his face into your hair. Thank the Seven for the loud(ish) music echoing off the walls, or else anyone a good few feet from you would be able to hear him groaning in your ear. All while one of his hands slowly slides towards the inside of your thigh and gives it a good squeeze.

And don't even think about saying anything. It's all your fault, you know. You just casually decide to sit in a guys lap and act surprised when he gets hard? Just like your enticing second heartbeat, an erection is something that can not be helped sometimes. They can happen anywhere, and every guy can agree to that. So what will it look like when you purposefully sit in his lap, throbbing against his thigh with your ass sat firmly against his crotch? Did you forget you're in a school of boys? They'd understand him in a heartbeat. Some may even say you did it on purpose. You'll only embarrass yourself. So stay still, stay inconspicuous, and stay silent.

Let's be honest, though. He's hanging on by a thread. He's just so embarrassed that you've managed to get him this vulnerable and he's taking that out on you. You feel so warm and smell soo good. It's taking every ounce of restraint to hide his gasps and grunts from the spread crowd around you both. Trust they can't be concealed from you, though. You can hear everything. Not to mention feel everything. It's impossible to ignore him spreading his legs a bit and slowly rolling his hips into you.

If he's miserable and desperate, he'll make you feel even worse. Unless you'd rather sneak away and give him the blow job he deserves for putting up with you. Lend him you pussy for a while and he might even spare you a lecture about public decency once this trip is over. (How hypocritical.)

And he's lying. Of course you'll be getting properly disciplined when this is all over. A hands-on lecture is a must. Best not to worry about that now, though. Just enjoy the moment. He sure is.

("I should have known better than to humor you. To think I actually believed you might have been behaving decently for once.")

[ozzgin]

Ok, could I just say I LOVE how you write for your Baki characters, they're always a treat 🥺✨️

May I request another prehistoric reader, but when they revived her along with Pickle, she just looked so roughed up that she looks like the definition of surviving

What could cause such scars? Well they wouldn't have to wait long since turns out she's like really clumsy, like "nearly losing an eye by tripping on air and onto a metal pole" clumsy

Pickle just has to be by her side every time to catch her before she actually lose something

I love the idea! I can definitely picture it, thank you for the suggestion and the kind words!

Baki Headcanons: Prehistoric! Clumsy Reader

Featuring Pickle and his challengers and one tough looking reader that turns out to be just extremely clumsy.

The men scan your features with a cautious defensiveness. Here you are, standing tall next to Pickle, with a similarly toned body yet peppered with scars and old wounds. Assuming you have the same survival skills as Pickle, what could you have possibly fought to leave you with such extensive damage? The air is tense as they analyze the possibilities. A T.Rex? It was your main source of food. Multiple of them? Entire packs of ancient elite predators? Were you the main hunter of the pack, taking on challenges that left the other humans scurrying away in fear?

It doesn’t take too long for the mystery to solve itself. The first one to pick up on it is Baki, who just happened to be visiting the enclosure. You’re in the middle of a playful scuffle with Pickle when you decide to impress the newcomer with your signature move. You extend one arm and twist your body slightly, as if gaining traction. Pickle can immediately tell what is about to happen and growls at you, but it’s too late. You swing, and the fist lands in your own face. Baki gasps in shock and you blink a few times in order to process the succession of events. Good Lord, you’re just clumsy. Terribly so.

Now, they have to admit, being this dangerous to yourself and making it this far is rather impressive. Whether in a good or a bad way is another story. The major force of reason in your life seems to be Pickle. Whenever possible, he’s there to stop your ungainly displays. He’s lifted you from the ground more times than he could ever care to count. Truth be told, he does enjoy the fact that you’re this dependent on him. Outside of your clumsiness you’re quite capable and he likes to have one area where he can prove himself as a partner to you.

It’s almost like you and Pickle crawled out of a slapstick comedy. The men are nearly temped to fabricate their own scenarios to check whether you come out unscathed. They’d rather not upset Pickle more than necessary, however. And witnessing your lack of coordination first-hand has also awakened a similar worry towards your safety.

Before they know it, they’re stopping mid-conversation to check on whatever shenanigans you’re up to, ready to interfere. Retsu will silently interrupt your failure and pretend nothing has ever happened, sparing your embarrassment. So does Katsumi, after having a good laugh about it. He finds you extremely entertaining and always compliments your gift of getting into trouble.

Jack doesn’t like to make his empathy known. He’ll ‘accidentally’ step in front of you moments before you’re about to crash into a wall. He just so happens to hold the edge of the barrier right before your head collides with it. Move along, there’s nothing to see.

With Baki there's always a 50% chance he'll fail miserably together with you instead. He's about to stop you from tripping and in doing so his chin hits the pavement at the same time as you. Thankfully Pickle has two hands.

Even Yuujirou is forced to comply with the unspoken rule. He’s been told repeatedly of the importance you and Pickle hold from a cultural and scientifically perspective and he doesn’t disagree with it. Depending on his mood he will laugh at your misfortune or arrogantly scold you, but either way he will prevent your injury. He’s also secretly impressed by your durability.

[rubra-wav]

Hello! If you’re still taking requests for Hazbin Hotel x Reader, how about a one where a new housekeeper captures Husk’s attention and he tries to impress her.

Another separate prompt suggestion can be Husk & the reader wake up in bed together & Husk playfully teases her, I.e, neck kisses, soft tickles, telling her how cute she is, etc.

Husk x housekeeper reader hcs/drabble-ish

A/N Lemon Boy by Cavetown came on as I was writing this, and now I can't stop thinking about it with Husk haha.

Cw: SFW, Fem!reader, romantic

- When Husk first sees the new housekeeper, he's immediately struck by you, surprising himself greatly.

- He inwardly cringes, chiding himself and pushes it to the back of his mind where it sat annoyingly restless.

- Someone like him could never have the type of thing he felt momentarily. Not with his deal weighing heavy on him at least.

- But as you stand there, in much a similar outfit as Niffty with your hands fidgeting with your skirt nervously as Charlie introduces you, he cannot deny how taken he truly is deep down.

- After that, it just gets even worse.

- He notices everything in rapt detail that you do as you around the hotel, and it freaks him out how whipped he is.

- The way your smile lights up when he talks to you is an absolute killer for him.

- He makes a point to be as bitter as possible to scare people away from him and rule out who's actually good verses who's not.

- And when even through all of that, you still smile freely, genuinely with such brightness every time you see him? Has his 'nonexistent' ability to love hard to cover for.

- When it's clear to Husk that his feelings aren't going away, and they are just getting more and more deep, he switches up his approach despite the more pessimistic part of him telling him not to and begins to try to impress you in various ways.

- Showing off tricks he knows how to do with cards, his talent in playing practically any kind of games to do with gambling, stepping in to lift things that are too heavy for you, making you drinks, cooking you stuff.

- Actually smiling at you and talking to you without the usual level of his bitter attitude.

- Other members notice this and tease him about it, but he doesn't let them to get in the way of him trying to woo you.

- When you respond well to it and seem genuinely interested in what he's doing, he thinks of trying to actually approach you to try officially ask you out.

- That's easier said than done, however.

- Every single goddamn member of the hotel seems hellbent on interrupting him every time he finally gets the courage to go try asking.

- Cough. Alastor mostly. Cough.

- After a long line of attempts at asking you out being interrupted, he essentially rage quits at it.

- Storms off as Alastor shows up randomly out of absolutely nowhere in front of his bar, interrupting him mid question as he's just about to try asking for the 7th time that day.

- "God, just fucking forget it. Nevermind." He grumbles out, sending a scathing glare to Alastor who just seems to know what Husk is trying to do and is grinning ecstatically as he sabotaged it yet again.

- After barging out to the hotel balcony, holding his head in his hands as he grits his teeth furiously, he's surprised when he hears your footfalls come to stop behind him.

- He turns to look at you in some confusion as he observes the slightly unsure, nervous look on your face.

- Husk's eyes widen as you ask him the exact same question he was trying to ask, and he feels his heart squeeze embarrassingly warmly at your words.

- Walks up to slowly you and places his hand on your forearm gently as he looks into your eyes and says yes, breathless with how relieved he is that he finally can move to get closer to you.

- You, the sweet maid who'd captivated him from day one.

[hazyange1s]

the process of detonation (g.w. x f!mc)

summary: Garreth has a bit of a crisis when the reality of growing up starts to hit hard. While trying to overcome self-doubt and bottle up the explosion waiting to happen, she’s there to show him that there’s nothing wrong with a little chaos.

tags: allusions to adhd, alcohol use, seventh year, awkwardness and fluff, literal fireworks, too many food metaphors?, friends to lovers, gryffindor!reader, garreth is an ace at pining, beater!Garreth because yes obviously, the “wearing his sweater” trope, seniors and their existential crises, mc only referred to by she/her pronouns

word count: 5.6 k

rating: T

a/n: my entry for @garrethweasleyfest ! the prompt I used was “explosion” (kind of got inspired by explode - mother mother)

read on ao3

Garreth wasn’t all that good at really explaining the inner workings of his mind, but perhaps he could give it a go.

He might be biased, but in a way; he thought people could be compared to potions. They’re messy, complex, and each have their own set of ingredients that make them what they are — and change how they react. Some people have a little extra rose petals to them, some a sprinkle of stardust, and others are just…pure poison.

In Garreth’s case, his brewing tended to say a lot about his own concoction of self.

Of course, for most of his life, he never really considered that there might be something fundamentally wrong with whatever recipe God or whoever had used to create him. It wasn’t until seventh year when he was finally considered a grown wizard that Garreth began to suspect… and to wonder if there was any leaf or powder out there that could be thrown in to stabilize him.

̶̶̶̶ ̶«̶ ̶̶̶ ̶ ̶ ̶̶̶ ̶«̶ ̶̶̶  ̶»̶ ̶̶̶ ̶ ̶ ̶̶̶ ̶»̶ ̶̶̶ ̶ ̶

In Garreth’s defense, he had a lot on his mind that day.

Between his growing stack of homework assignments, early morning Quidditch practices three days a week, and the NEWT study group he’d been strong-armed into joining by Natsai and his Aunt, it was a wonder he had any working brain cells left at all. And that didn’t even count the time he spent on his own, er… creative projects.

So it wasn’t all that surprising that he’d accidentally broken a golden rule of potion-making in his sleepy endeavor at a cure for ague. Not once as his knife rocked against the cutting board did he consider that everybody else was flattening the blades and pressing down instead, and the rest of his friends were too oblivious to, either.

“— But then, he tried to kiss me! No request, no warning, nothing! One second I’m mid-conversation about centaurs’ rights, and the next his tongue is two inches from my face! All of that time wasted when I could have been doing any of the million other; more important things I have going on!”

Oddly enough, hearing about his friend’s failed attempts at courting (which were rather numerous) was the best part of his day so far.

Garreth nodded along politely, offering a vague “mhmm” and “you can’t be serious” at appropriate intervals, gaze flickering between his workstation and the witch in the midst of a passionate rant while turning her ladle idly in her own cauldron. He’d never been good at strictly keeping his eyes on his own work, and it was that much harder with her directly beside him; her vest unbuttoned and cheeks fairy floss pink from the vapors surrounding them.

She gave a resounding huff, dropping the ladle to rest her elbows on the textbook open in front of her. “All that is to say; I’ve come to the conclusion that men are incorrigible.”

“Sounds fairly accurate,” Garreth snorted. He gently nudged her off of the book (they often shared his, as it was filled with helpful notes) to double check a measurement.

Even if some little voice whispered that reasonable was boring and she should keep her — ahem — mind open to other possibilities, he dutifully ignored it.

“Although, we’re not all pigs, you know. Some of us have a spot of…well. Class, I suppose.” He grumbled.

“I hope you’re not referring to yourself,” her laughter rang out like the peal of a bell. “You’re a lot of things, Garreth, but you’re not exactly the epitome of a gentleman.”

His face pinched, and again she chuckled, which was a small consolation.

It stung because it was true. Garreth wasn’t exactly a rake by most standards, but he flirted with too many witches and wizards and had snogged half that number besides to be much else. He was a terrible dancer, didn’t have a fortune to inherit (even if he had been the eldest Weasley), and flaunted most rules and regulations.

So, no, he wasn’t winning any awards in Witch Weekly for Bachelor of the Year.

To spite her, he did the gentlemanly thing and conceded, albeit not so gracefully. “I’m only trying to say…you shouldn’t lump us all in with a few bad apples. I certainly wouldn’t have disappointed you like that.”

“How comforting to know. I’m still sticking with my hypothesis, but thanks for trying.”

Well, now he was thinking about how he would kiss her, if given the chance.

(This was purely for scientific reasons, of course.)

Garreth, eager to salvage what remained of his pride, readied another reply as he sprinkled the flakes of dittany into his lightly smoking cauldron. It would have been a good one, too, if not for —

“Garreth!”

There was only a hair of a second between her shouting his name in warning and what was possibly one of his most impressive explosions to date. Even though she lunged for him, she was too late to stop the blast from sending him reeling backwards with a hand over his burning-hot face and a very unbecoming cry of surprise.

Having expected him to be closer, she stumbled in her attempt at pushing him out of the way, and thus they collided like two atoms — tumbling to the stone floor in a jumble of limbs and hissed curses.

“Come on, seriously, Garreth?” Sebastian groaned from an adjacent potions station. He, along with a few others who’d been close to the blast, were coughing and waving away billowing clouds of smoke.

Natty sighed. “That’ll be another ten points from Gryffindor.”

But their protestations fell to the wayside once he was peering up at the sheepish face of his savior; no more than a few inches away. Within kissing distance, even.

Wait. What?

“Fuck. Ow. Sorry,” she groaned, trying to untangle their aching limbs as she lay half-splayed across Garreth’s chest.

It was then that his traitorous mind started paying attention to how warm she was, how bright that ring of pure gold in her eyes was, how infuriatingly good the blend of mallowsweet and smoke clinging to her like a second skin smelled…

Shiiiiittt. Shit, shit, shit.

“No, it’s, uh, it’s my fault. Totally my fault, I wasn’t, er…paying attention,” he panted. The wind had been thoroughly knocked out of him — and it wasn’t just because her elbow had struck him right in the stomach when they’d fallen.

When she managed to sort herself out and hastily climb to her feet, that stinging feeling from before returned, and Garreth didn’t notice the developing bruise on his tailbone one bit.

“Are you alright?” She asked.

“Oh, er, I think so,” he stood up, legs wobbling like a newborn thestral, and dusted off his robes. “My pride took the biggest blow. Though I suppose I should count myself lucky I had the Hero of Hogwarts to save me.”

He waggled his brows, and her jaw went slack before she was doubled over in a fit of raucous laughter.

“What?! It wasn’t that funny.“

“No, you —“ she can hardly get the words out between breathless giggles. “Garreth, your eyebrows.”

Reaching up, his fingers found the ridge just above his eyes — where, indeed, great chunks of what was once thick ginger hair are missing. “Bollocks. That’s the third time in six months.”

The unfortunate loss of his eyebrows (and dignity) became yesterday’s news when she traversed the newly formed space between them to rub what he assumed was soot off of his nose, still chuckling to herself. He resisted the urge to brush away the wayward hairs sticking to her forehead in kind.

“I’ll give you this — you’re definitely not most men,” she grinned.

It was probably an insult, but all Garreth heard was a ringing endorsement. Against the odds, he cracked a lopsided smile of his own.

Maybe he’d even call it a victory.

Professor Sharp waved his wand, and the thick fumes disappeared, allowing them all a good glimpse of his signature long-suffering scowl.

“Ten points from Gryffindor. Shocking, I know,” the ex-Auror sighed, resigned. “And I expect that cauldron to be replaced within the fortnight.”

Well. A bittersweet victory, to be sure.

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Everything tumbled downhill from there.

In the spirit of further self-reflection, Garreth knew that their unceremonious meeting on the dirty floor of the Potions classroom wasn’t some hit-him-over-the-head moment of recognition — even if most of his revelations came in that form. This one had been creeping up on him since fifth year, like a wily sort of poison; disguised with a sweet scent to throw him off.

But just how massively fucked was he, you may ask?

That became clear one rainy afternoon. Not just any rainy afternoon, mind you, because those were a galleon a dozen during autumn in the Scottish Highlands; but the afternoon of their first Quidditch game of the year against Slytherin.

Which didn’t help the fact that his head was already so not in the game.

It started out well enough, with Gryffindor managing to make several goals in a row that had their swaths of supporters in the stands crowing with pride. Garreth did his best to keep up as he weaved and dodged and looped around the field, trying to focus solely on the hunt for Bludgers. Of course, this required him to pay equally close attention to his teammates lest they fall victim to one of the bloodthirsty balls.

One teammate in particular more than the others, perhaps.

Flying was made all the more difficult by the sheets of icy rain pelting his face. Not even the goggles – with the assistance of an Impervious Charm – were helping him distinguish much more than vague blobs of color streaking through the cloudy sky. This, he justified, was why he started to miss more swings than he made and almost dropped his bat (twice). It wasn’t Garreth’s fault the elements were working against them.

Despite that, they were still forty points up when the conniving snakes switched tactics and started going after Gryffindors’ three female Chasers. Natty was an expert at evasion, and Nellie tended to fly high to avoid them… but not her.

She always had to be in the bloody thick of it, didn’t she?

It might have been annoying, if it wasn’t so damn impressive. Garreth couldn’t help but admire the way she moved; how she’d feint and crack a little smile each time someone fell for the trick. The way her red sweater clung, dripping, from her frame and strands of hair curled around her wet forehead were particularly distracting, too.

For the first time in his career, Garreth found himself wishing he was in the crowd – just so he could watch her.

Sebastian tossed the Quaffle to Imelda over Natty’s head – only for his face to contort with rage when it was snatched from the air between them. Garreth whooped proudly when she took off towards the goal posts. The first Bludger was hot on her tail, but so was he, maneuvering between her and the ball. He spent the next few minutes as her guardian until having to turn tail at the last minute to rescue Lucan.

The next events happened so quickly he couldn’t quite recall much but this: a familiar, feminine cry of alarm from behind him, the brown blur of a Bludger streaking towards him, and the reverberation in his arm when his bat connected with it. There was a thunderous crack, and then another scream.

What he’d meant to do was send it towards any of the three Slytherins trying to overtake her, but instead…

Garreth’s entire world narrowed down to the moment when she just barely managed to duck out of the Bludger’s path. He’d come to a screeching halt on his broom, hovering mere feet away from her with his eyes wide as saucers behind his foggy goggles, something sinking inside him as the Slytherins flew off with the Quaffle. The stadium erupted into cheers for them seconds later.

“What the hell was that?” She panted, her indignant scowl apparent even through the downpour. “You almost took my bloody head off, Garreth!”

“It — it was an accident. And you’re fine, right, so no harm, no foul?” He had to shout to be heard over the spectators and the wind.

“An inch to the left and I wouldn’t have been fine at all! I don’t know what’s wrong with you, but you need to get it together!”

“I just –”

She sped off so fast the resulting wind made him shiver. Either Garreth was simply losing his touch, or there was something seriously wrong with him lately. Cursing to himself, he shook off the chill her anger had left him with and the shame that followed, and threw himself back into the game comforted by the knowledge that he’d be able to get roaring drunk at the after party.

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Drunk might be an understatement, actually.

By the time the party was in full swing, Garreth had already downed more than his share of the sneakily procured liquor (courtesy of yours truly, Sirona’s unrelenting generosity, and several bribes to the house elves in the kitchens). Someone had enchanted a few of the lamps to change color occasionally, throwing red and green and blue lights around Gryffindor’s common room, which teemed with House members in Quidditch jumpers and all other manner of memorabilia. Even little Doge and Dumbledore had emerged briefly to shyly congratulate the team.

Not even the jubilant music pouring from the gramophone or the well-earned laughter of the partygoers could drown out what was going on inside Garreth’s head.

He’d never embarrassed himself so profoundly at a match before. Quidditch, like potion-making, was one of the few areas Garreth excelled in, and he couldn’t even do that right. Ever since school had started up again, he’d been a mess. Exploding cauldrons, racking up more detentions than ever, always saying the wrong thing…

It was seventh year, for Merlin’s sake, and he was a grown wizard now. But while everyone else was coming into themselves, it seemed like he was just coming apart.

So instead of enjoying the victory, Garreth had taken to drowning his sorrows in drink while watching from the sidelines; neck-deep in an early quarter life crisis while slumped in one of the armchairs. Leander found him there eventually, his freckled face a mask of concern as he leaned against the wall beside him.

“What’s with the sour face?” Leander raised a brow. “We just beat Slytherin! I thought you’d be dancing on the tables or something.”

“I’m not really in the dancing mood. Go on, I’ll live vicariously through you.” Garreth grumbled.

“As much as everyone would probably love to see that, I’d rather find out what’s got your wand all knotted up.”

Garreth sighed, raking the hand not currently clutching a glass of Firewhiskey through his still-damp curls. “You saw what happened, Lee. The team’s probably pissed at me for being a massive disappointment, especially…”

He gestured vaguely to the hero of the hour (the hero of every hour of every day as far as he was concerned, and she’d earned the title several times over) across the room. She was talking with Natty, Nellie, and Cressida by the fireplace, her smile brighter than the flames’ glow that lit her from behind. A clawed hand squeezed at his heart.

“Oh, that? That was…I mean, you made a minor miscalculation. Most of them have forgotten already, I reckon.” Leander’s eyes darted to the side — as they always did when he was lying horribly.

“A minor miscalculation that could have led to the untimely death of one of my best friends.”

“You’re being even more dramatic than usual…are you tossed already?”

”I dunno, mum; am I?”

There was a quiet rumble around him, like thunder. At first he thought it was just his stomach informing him of how much he’d indeed had to drink, but then a fat drop of rain landed on his nose.

Leander’s big, dark eyes rolled to the ceiling, and he dragged Garreth onto his slightly unsteady feet with an arm in his. “Alright, you’re being bloody insufferable, and you’ve quite literally got a dark cloud hanging over you. Come on, up you get — go talk to her and apologize.”

“No, Lee, please!” Garreth whined. “I’ve suffered enough humiliation today.”

”Don’t be a coward, you’ll be fine.”

The taller boy weaved through the crowd easily, pulling a stumbling Garreth along beside him until they came face-to-face with the very group of girls he had been avoiding all night. They all went quiet immediately — which was not a good sign.

Garreth scratched the back of his head, glancing between Leander and the witch with the suspicious scowl in front of him, feeling for all the world like he’d never been less of a Gryffindor than in that moment. Surely the alcohol was supposed to help with these things, right?

”Er…would you like to dance?” He blurted.

Well, that wasn’t what he’d meant to say at all. But having to talk to her at all in his clumsy state seemed even more daunting with all eyes on him, and getting her alone was a simple solution.

“You sure you’ll be able to without tripping over your feet?” Nellie snorted.

“‘M perfectly cohabitated — uh, coordinated, I mean,” Garreth argued.

Natty shook her head, hiding her laughter behind a hand. “Oh, dear.”

His favorite witch turned a familiar shade of pink, and for a moment Garreth feared that she’d laugh in his face, but eventually she sighed and handed her bottle of Butterbeer to Natty.

“If you step on my toes, I’ll jinx you,” she warned, leading him to the center of the room where groups of friends and cozy couples were scattered to dance to the magically amplified music (it was a miracle none of the professors had come to complain about it, really).

“No promises.”

Garreth wrestled with what to do when they got there. Was he supposed to take her hand? Her waist? Or, rather, should he keep it friendly and avoid touching her at all? The latter option seemed much less risky, and yet he found himself longing to feel her hand in his and the heat of her body. He’d been hooked ever since that day in Potions.

Deciding it would be better to keep his distance for now, Garreth went with swaying awkwardly on the spot instead, but she had other ideas — her hand sought out his, and she threw him into a dizzying little turn that evoked both laughter and a slight wave of nausea.

“Oh, are you leading?” He chuckled, suddenly thankful for the ballroom lessons they’d all received the year prior as he mimicked her move, twirling her playfully with ease that surprised even him.

“That might be safer,” she said. “Although you’re not doing half bad so far.”

“Always the tone of surprise,” Garreth grinned proudly.

He spent the better part of five minutes praying he wouldn’t step on her toes while simultaneously working up the courage to acknowledge the erupment in the room. And, because the universe didn’t like to make anything easy for him, Garreth had to compete with the little flutters in his stomach that beat their furious wings each time she laughed or squeezed his hand.

Merlin, just pull your wand out of your ass.

“Hey, so, about earlier. You know, during the game… you’re right, I wasn’t…I don’t know where my head’s been lately. I didn’t mean to muck things up.”

His breath held until she shrugged, her easy smile fading into something edged with concern. “Don’t worry about it. We won, and my head’s still attached to my body, so no hard feelings.”

She drew back, the impish grin back as she spun him again — which wasn’t very easy considering he had to duck under her arm. The room seemed to be moving with him, and Garreth had to right himself as subtly as possible when he came to a stop as colors that didn’t belong to the lights danced in his vision.

“You alright?” She chuckled, her hands braced on his biceps to steady him. “I think Nellie might have had a point about you tripping.”

“No, no, I’m good, just waiting for the room to stop spinning so I can look at you again.”

That hadn’t quite come out right. In place of the eye roll he was expecting, she giggled, adding fuel to his liquid confidence.

“Gods, you’re cute when you laugh,” Garreth found himself saying. He realized she was leading him away from the crowd, and soon he sank into a squashy cushion beside her. “I mean, you’re a bit blurry right now, but…still cute.”

“Okay, what’s gotten into you lately? Not that I mind the flirting… but you’ve been a right mess for weeks. I don’t think I’ve seen you this drunk before; not even when you saw your OWL results.”

A low groan rumbled in the back of his throat. “I’m peachy, pinkie promise.” Did she just say she didn’t mind his flirting?

Giggling at how absurd the words sounded together, he stuck his pinkie out to her and waited. “Come on, these are sacred!”

She did actually roll her eyes this time, but then her smallest finger hooked around his, and it didn’t pull away even when they were certainly exceeding the normal amount of time for a handshake. Garreth could smell the sweetness of Butterbeer on her breath.

It wasn’t enough to convince her, though. “Are you stressed about NEWTs? Who am I kidding, everyone and their grandmothers are. But if it’s really getting to you, then —“

Apparently, she wasn’t giving up, so Garreth sighed and rested his head against the back of the couch.

“Yes, I’m a bit strung out over the exams that will decide our entire career, what d’you think? I’m not going to have a fit over it.”

“Sorry,” her hands raised in surrender. “Just trying to figure out why you haven’t quite been yourself since the term started because I bloody care.”

“I would argue that blowing things up and making stupid decisions is very much on brand for me.”

Releasing a heavy sigh (more like an impatient huff, really), she wrested her pinkie from his, leaving Garreth more than a bit disappointed. But then again, what had he expected? That she’d sit there and hold his hand?

He hadn’t earned that. Somehow, he had earned her friendship from the very first day of their fifth year, but in no way did he reserve the right to even hope of something more. She was, well… extraordinary, and Garreth was an extraordinary disaster.

Maybe it was time he rectified that.

“Wait,” he tugged pathetically on her sleeve when she rose from the couch. “Sit with me for a little bit longer? I might need someone to Accio a rubbish bin over here soon.”

To his great relief, she sat down again, shaking her head to disguise a little chuckle. “You’re something else, y’know?”

”I’ve been told once or twice.”

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Bonfire Nights had been sparse the past couple of years around Hogwarts, as many of the residents had feared drawing attention to themselves with the looming threat of Ashwinders and goblins and the like. This year, Garreth had had the pleasure of seeing pyres built weeks beforehand, and by the end of October Zonko’s had sold out of Filibuster’s Fireworks.

As night settled over the Highlands, bonfires began to flare to life all along the rolling hills, appearing like flaming stars from the view at the castle. Garreth, alongside a group of fellow seventh years carrying sparklers and mini-fireworks, spent the brisk walk to the hill above Hogsmeade village lost in uncharacteristic melancholy. He’d never been the sort to reminisce; preferring to live in the here and now whenever possible, but for some reason the knowledge that this would be his last Bonfire Night at Hogwarts made it all a bit bittersweet (the flavor of the month, it seemed).

They drank hot chocolate in ceramic mugs provided by Sirona, surrounded by the body heat of the villages’ residents as they talked and laughed and chased their children away from the forest at the edge of the plateau. Hogsmeade’s lights had been dimmed for the occasion, glowing softly below them to allow the six foot pyre they gathered around to shine.

“I can’t believe next month is Christmas already,” Leander was saying between greedy sips of the drink cupped in his blue-tinged hands. “Then it’ll be the New Year, then Spring Break, and before we know it we’ll be taking our NEWTs and graduating…”

“Breathe, Lee,” Garreth chuckled. At least he wasn’t the only one getting hit with the terrifying reality of time all at once.

”I know, is it not amazing? The last few years have gone by so quickly. I will miss this place come summer, though,” Natty sighed wistfully.

Nellie snorted. “Speak for yourself. If I never have to open a textbook again after school is over, it’ll be too soon.”

“Where’s your sense of adventure, Leander?” His favorite Gryffindor (don’t tell Nats or Leander) joined their little circle, her frame wrapped in a thick red scarf and one of his old Christmas sweaters she’d stolen from him in fifth year and never given back — not that he minded, as it didn’t fit him anymore and looked far better on her, anyway.

The lanky redhead grumbled a reply, “Easy for you to say. Half of my job will be desk work.”

“No shame in that,” she shrugged. “Garreth’s going to be behind a cauldron, after all.”

“Hey, Potioneers do other things besides just… brew. I’ll still forage for my own ingredients, travel to sell them… hell, one day, I might just have my own shop.” Garreth said with pride.

“So long as you don’t blow it up,” her cheeks dimpled when she smiled.

As if on cue, a loud boom shook the ground beneath them. Everyone’s eyes shot to the sky, cheers swelling amongst the crowd as the first firework exploded in a shower of golden sparks, dissolving back towards the earth like falling stars. Despite all their talk of the future, Garreth felt like a first-year again as a smile broke out on his slightly chapped lips, apparently not immune to the childlike wonder the fireworks always seemed to bring.

The next one was even louder and brighter. Garreth nearly jumped out of his skin when an iron grip closed around his arm and a body pressed into his left side. She had buried her face in his shoulder, too, and a warm feeling unrelated to the cocoa spread from his stomach.

“Aww, is the big, bad Gryffindor afraid of fireworks?” he teased, trying not to enjoy the smell of her shampoo or the color in her cheeks too much as she looked up at him sheepishly.

“Shut up!” The shivering witch hissed. “Am not. I’m just…cold, and you’re a damn furnace, as usual.”

“Oh, you’re cold,” Garreth pouted just for the drama of it. Then, before he could convince himself it was a bad idea, he wrapped his arm around her shoulders to pull her closer still. “I suppose I’ll have to keep you warm, then.”

”And they say chivalry is dead.”

She flinched after the third blast, leading him to rub her shoulder in a subtle attempt at comfort, his heart thumping almost as loud as the fireworks now going off in quick succession when she curled into him. It was then that his Neanderthal brain concluded why she might have been so terrified; after fighting in a bloody war just two years ago.

“Sorry,” she mumbled.

“Don’t be. I don’t mind.” At all. Garreth laughed to himself and set down his mug in the grass so he could cover the ear she didn’t have pressed to his chest with his hand.

“You know, you’re really sweet when you want to be,” he thought he heard her say over the explosions echoing throughout the valleys.

He lowered his head to speak into the ear closest to him, lips brushing the flyaways from her hair, rubbing her arm again when he noticed her shiver. “Don’t tell anyone. I have a reputation to uphold; can’t have everyone think I’ve gone soft.”

Truth be told, his limbs always felt like melted taffy around her — he was practically a puddle at her feet.

They were quiet for a few minutes. Eventually, her head lifted partially from his shoulder, and with a sidelong glance he caught her peering up at the sky with a look best described as wonder. Each burst of sparks was reflected in her wide eyes, and Garreth felt tiny pricks of electricity along every nerve in his body at the sight.

“So, um…” he scrambled for something to say so he wouldn’t think about how close her lips would be if she turned to the side a bit. “Are you still going to write to me after school’s over? Or will you forget all about us little people when you’re off traveling the world in search of ancient relics and having daring adventures?”

“Of course I’m going to write, you moonmind,” she looked up at him, then, and his hand fell from the side of her head. “And I’ll come visit, too, so I can see that shop of yours.”

Perhaps she was just humoring him, but Garreth found nothing but sincerity in her soft smile, and his own crooked grin widened at the thought that she might be one of the first to genuinely believe in him.

“What’s got you so pensive all of a sudden?”

He shrugged, absentmindedly playing with the frayed edges of her cashmere scarf. “Maybe it’s just the old age catching up to me. It pairs well with my bum hip, I think.”

”Come on, I’m serious. I won’t tell anyone and ruin your sterling reputation, I swear.”

“I don’t know,” Garreth let out a sigh, his breath clouding in the air between them. “Just realized how much I’m gonna miss you.”

“And here I thought you’d be sick of my face after seeing it every day for three years,” her eyes darted away from him to watch a spray of green and red fill the starry sky. She wasn’t shaking anymore.

Never, he almost said. Garreth knew, as he gazed hopelessly at her perfect profile, that he would never be tired of her face — well, of all of her, really. In fact, he wouldn’t mind seeing her every day for the rest of his life.

“If you’re going to miss me so desperately… Perhaps you could join me on one of my so-called ‘daring adventures’ sometime; on the off chance Pippin gives you a holiday.”

His brows shot up as she met his stare. “Really? You’d want me to tag along?”

Their classmates and the villagers burst into raucous whistles and hollering as the finale began, fireworks filling the air with the smell of gunpowder and a rainbow of light that flashed on everyone’s uplifted faces. Garreth held her tightly lest she start to panic again, but the witch in his arms just laughed jubilantly at the crowd’s infectious excitement, nodding in response to his question.

“Sure. Never know when you might need a talented Potioneer to back you up. Fair warning that we’re bound to run into some trouble now and again, naturally.”

The thump of his heart became something wild and frantic, beating away beneath the hand she’d placed on his chest until he feared it, too, would simply explode. Gods, if they weren’t careful, he would wind up doing something massively stupid… or massively genius, depending on the results.

“As long as you’re there, I say bring it on,” Garreth beamed.

He could hardly believe his luck. She’d asked him to accompany her on her travels! That had to mean something, right?

Only one way to find out for sure…

“And would it be…er, just the two of us, or would Sebastian and Ominis and the rest of the crew be joining as well?”

Her eyes sparkled with recognition. “That depends on how you would feel about us traveling alone.”

”Would it be rather selfish of me to say that I’d love to have you to myself for a bit?”

“Probably…” her breath warmed his cheeks, though they were already burning hotter than a cauldron flame as Garreth became hypnotized by the way her teeth worried at her reddened lower lip. “But then I’d have to admit that I’m selfish, too.”

Now, that was a sign.

The last round of fireworks were utterly deafening, so Garreth had to lean in once again until the cold tips of their noses brushed to say, “Could I be even more of a self-serving bastard and ask you for one more thing?”

”Yes, you can — and yes to anything you want,” her lashes fluttered as her gaze dropped down to his slightly parted mouth.

“Anything?”

Garreth wasn’t one to ignore an opportunity when it arose. He took it and ran, gently placing his hand beneath her chin at the same moment his eyes slid shut and their lips brushed together with such a delicate touch that he shuddered. Then she took the lead, deepening the kiss with a wispy little sigh that had him weak at the knees and left him unable to form any solid thought but for how fucking incredible she tasted with the remnants of rich chocolate on her tongue.

When the two of them disconnected, the last sparks were fading from the sky, but they lived on in Garreth’s veins, popping and crackling like Fizzing Whizbees.

“See?” He murmured while still trying to catch his breath. “Didn’t disappoint you, did I?”

Her laughter bubbled up between them, brighter than any display. “You never disappoint, Garreth Weasley.”

Garreth had wondered before if he’d been made wrong; like one of his failed experiments with just a splash too much of the wrong thing. But perhaps — especially with someone like her to help keep him stable — some of the best things could come from the unpredictable and the unexpected.

He didn’t exactly find the missing ingredient…it had been there all along.

[hirocimacruiser]

Amazing! The first kei car with gull-wing doors and a midship layout!

Intimidate everyone else!!

AUTOZAM AZ-1

Shut up and follow me!!

Following the Beat and Cappuccino, Autozam has released its 3rd light car! The AZ-1 (Autozam's top pick!) is an evolved version of the AZ-550 that appeared at the Autozam show three years ago. What's more, the AZ-1's top pick is that it's the first gull-wing light car in the history of the car. The drive system is also midship, just like the Beat, so you can expect great driving performance! This is the kind of car it is.

This is what the AZ-1 is like!!!

The AZ-1 was born from the idea of play.

It all began three years ago when Mazda's development staff created the AZ 550 (there were three types, A, B, and C), which they had been playing around with in their spare time from their regular work, and exhibited it as a concept car at a motor show.

The reactions of visitors to the motor show were surveyed. Many people said they "definitely want to buy it," "want it," and "want to drive it," so the upper echelons of the manufacturer began to think seriously about the matter. They then had automotive critics test drive the car and sought a wide range of opinions.

As a result, the "go" was given and full-scale development for commercialization began.

Naturally, the overall body length and engine displacement were also revised.

The distinctive gull-wing doors (named for the way they open, resembling the movement of a seagull's wings) are the second to be adopted by a Japanese car, following the Toyota Sera. However, this car is more authentic.

The engine is a 3-cylinder twin-cam turbo purchased from Suzuki, the same as the Cappuccino. This is the birth of a mid-ship car, following the first in the kei car series. The plastic body is bolted together, so the frame of the chassis is not visible from the outside, allowing for a large number of welds and ensuring considerable body rigidity. The body is available in two colors: red and blue.

PIC CAPTIONS

AZ-1 5MT 1,498,000 yen

◆The authentic bucket-type seat provides firm support for the driver's body.

★The small 35cm diameter handlebars are one feature that will inspire your sporty spirit.

This is what it looks like from the outside!!!

The Gullwings and Midship layout are lightweight and futuristic in shape.

Although it is basically the same as the model exhibited at the motor show, you will notice that some small changes have been made for the market. The first thing that catches your eye are the headlights. The retractable lamps have been changed to two exposed round lamps. However, they are angled to blend in as much as possible with the steeply sloping hood, and are a modified oval type.

Because of the gull-wing design, the outer door handles and door locks are positioned low, which is a bit of a concern as they get muddy easily on rainy days or after driving through muddy roads. The side air intakes behind the doors are a sign of a midship design and look cool. Air is introduced through the intake duct to cool the engine.

The single wiper type gives a sporty impression, but since it does not have any mechanism to expand the operating area like Mercedes Benz's, it may be slightly less practical than the dual wiper type.

There is also an air intake on the hood, but please be aware that this is not for the turbo intercooler. It is actually just an air intake for the interior. The door mirrors are also taken from the Carol.

The interior looks like this!!!!!!

The mysterious living space created by the gullwing!!!

The threshold is twice as high as that of the Cappuccino, so getting in and out of the car is not smooth. The threshold is higher than the seat, so it is impossible (not physically, but psychologically) for a woman wearing a skirt to get in. That being said, this is an exception to the rule for women who want to please men.

The interior has a narrow center tunnel that separates the driver and passenger, like the Cappuccino and Beat, and the driver and passenger seats are very close to each other. The inside door handles are the same as those of the Eunos Roadster.

The steering wheel is sporty with a small diameter of 35cm. The controls for the standard air conditioner are located on the center console due to space limitations, but the dial-type main switch (which also serves as the fan switch) has the numbers indicating the air volume facing downwards, making it difficult to see.

The seats are bucket type. The driver's seat slides but has no reclining (angle adjustment).

There are no adjustment mechanisms in the passenger seat.

The seats are fixed, with no room for movement. A heavy spare tire is placed behind the driver's seat to improve cornering performance. There is plenty of headroom.

The gear shift lever is less appealing than that of the Beat and Cappuccino, as it feels more tacky. Also, there are no power windows to keep the vehicle weight down.

PIC CAPTIONS

★The AZ-550 was released three years ago. The only changes from the AZ-1 are the retractable headlamps and aluminum.

★The AZ-1's side air intakes are proof that it is a mid-engine car.

★A gorgeous figure!

AZ-1when opened. This is the gullwing.

◆The most distinctive feature of the AZ-1 is its gull-wing doors that look as if they could pop out at any moment.

↑Seen from the front, the gull-wing doors look somewhat threatening...

→Is it just me or does it look like a goldfish? →AZ-1 seen from directly above looks like

◆The rear view has four round lamps. The engine is mounted behind the seats.

◆The short, easy-to-operate gear lever is very sporty.

◆The seats are also full-fledged bucket type, designed with sporty driving in mind.

★It is the smallest and sportiest steering wheel on a commercially available vehicle.

★This air conditioning control switch is vertical and has an unusual shape that has never been seen before.

Introducing the Autozam AZ-1, the first gull-wing light car!

Here's the mechanism of AZ-1!!

It's a sporty mechanism that goes beyond being a lightweight car.

Both the front and rear use strut suspension, and the brakes are four-wheel discs, exactly the same as the Beat. The AZ-1 is 25mm lower than the Beat, and its wheelbase is 45mm shorter, so its cornering performance has reached a considerable level.

The tires are the same size on both the front and rear, and are specially designed TOYO Trampio 155/65R13 inch. Aluminum wheels, which can reduce the weight by 2 kg per wheel, are available as custom-made equipment.

The body is a skeleton monocoque.

The structure is called a "shell," and the plastic outer panels are bolted together, which has the advantage that the welds are not visible from the outside, and the number of spot welds has been increased to increase rigidity.

PIC CAPTIONS

▶AZ-1's rivals

▼SUZUKI cappuccino

▲HONDA beat

If you were to compare it simply in terms of power performance, the Cappuccino would be its rival (which can't be helped, since they have the same engine), but if you were to compare it in terms of drive system, the Beat would be its rival. It is the only one that is not an open-top car compared to the other two, but it can be said to have both the acceleration of the Cappuccino and the midship of the Beat. In other words, since all three cars are different, it is difficult to compare them as equal rivals. The only choice you can make is based on these three factors - gullwing, midship, FR - and your budget.

■This is the AZ-1 chassis (framework) and suspension!!!

◆The suspension is equipped with disc brakes and strut suspension.

The body uses the latest skeleton monocoque.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for getting upset at my ex for being PDA with his boyfriend?

🌱🚌🍰<- To find later

Ages aren't super relevant here but everyone is in their mid-late 20s. About a year ago, my fiance of about 8 and a half years, Jake, broke up with me. It wasn't the smoothest breakup, I didn't take it well at the time, but I've since had a lot of time to think about it and I do understand (and agree with some of) his reasons for it. We're still on friendly terms and recently started casually chatting again 2 months ago after he said he needed a break for a while. I admit I do still love him and we had said at the time that we would want to get back together someday but that it would be a long time before we could consider that again and I wouldn't be upset with him if he changes his mind. There are a number of reasons why things weren't going well, I know I have a lot of body image issues and that had a lot of impact on our sex life, and there was also just a lot of baggage from old issues that built up over the course of the relationship. I've since been in therapy which I know was long overdue and working on a lot of the issues that contributed. Ultimately though, what ended up being the breaking point was issues we were having with polyamory.

I'm going to try and keep things as succinct as possible because the including all the details would make it way too long, but here's basically what happened: Jake and I agreed to be open about sleeping with other people, as long as we kept things out of our shared space. We weren't sure about dating others yet, but we said we'd talk about it if it came up. I know Jake felt jealous about me being with others while I worked on our own intimacy issues, but he told me that he knew that was unhealthy especially if we wanted to eventually be poly. A few months in, I heard from one of our friends, Emily, that a new friend of ours, Daniel, thought Jake was hot and might have a crush on him. I was shocked that Emily would tell me that because she knew Jake and I were together, and I told Jake to discuss what to do about it. He was kind of upset that I told him because he said he would've wanted to hear that from Daniel directly, I argued it was relevant but apologized anyway and dropped it. Over the next few months, Jake and Daniel started texting a lot and Jake started developing feelings for him. When Daniel confessed during a movie night, Jake said he felt the same but that he'd have to talk to me about it first. Jake told me he wanted to go for it, which was surprising because he had said literally the day before that he wasn't sure, but we decided to try poly with some ground rules. Ultimately the issue came down to the "shared space" rule we were already following. I considered making out as sexual, but Jake disagreed and told me that was too controlling if we were allowed to have dates at the apartment. This led to a fight, and when I went to the other room to calm down, I realized that if I couldn't handle seeing Jake with someone else so close to me, I couldn't do poly, so I went back out to tell him. He asked why we couldn't keep talking about it, I said I couldn't change how I felt, and he got upset that I wasn't willing to have a conversation about it now that he had feelings for someone else, so I asked him what he'd want to talk about and he said not to bother because it was obvious I had already made up my mind. The next day he told me we should take a break, and we broke up a week later. I want to make it very clear that I don't blame Daniel for any of this and I don't think anyone was "cheating". As far as I'm aware, Jake and Daniel started dating about 4-5 months after we broke up. I'm not going to lie and say that seeing Jake so happy with someone else doesn't hurt, but I know that's immature of me and I'm working on getting over it.

About a week ago, Jake invited me to go to a bar with a bunch of our old friends. It was a lot of fun and I had really missed hanging with everyone in a group. At some point during the night though, I noticed Daniel being kind of handsy with Jake. I brushed it off because everyone was drunk, but as time went on it became less and less subtle, and I started getting a little uncomfortable. I noticed that one of our more reserved friends, Jason, was also looking a bit flustered. At one point Daniel pulled Jake away from the table to go off somewhere, and everyone just kind of laughed awkwardly before continuing conversation. I know that Jake didn't like PDA before but it's possible that changed, idk.

At the end of the night when people were saying goodbyes and starting to head home, I pulled Jake aside to thank him for inviting me and saying it was a lot of fun and great to see everyone again, but that I noticed people were kind of uncomfortable with Daniel's PDA and suggested that he tone it down a little in the future, especially around Jason. Jake didn't say anything at the time but his smile dropped a little bit and he said he'd talk to Daniel about it.

The next day, I woke up to messages from both Jake and Jason telling me I was out of line and that nobody but me had any issues with their PDA. I even mentioned Jason looking uncomfortable and he said that it was because he had had a crush on Jake for a while now, but that it would be unreasonable for him to ask Jake and Daniel to change their behavior around their friends (which I completely disagree with when it comes to PDA and being inappropriate in public). Jake told me that if I was going to bring our breakup back into the group dynamic it would be better if I didn't come in the future. I asked a few of our other friends and one said that it could be too much sometimes but only when everyone was really drunk, one said that if it did go too far they'd say something, but that it never had, and the last one told me that I was being rude and was clearly just not over Jake.

I don't think I'm an asshole for being uncomfortable with PDA and even if nobody else agrees with me (and at least a couple do), I didn't go about telling them in a rude way at all, but most of the group is saying I was overstepping and to get over myself. AITA here?

[checkoutmybookshelf]

The Most Toxic Situationship I have ever Seen...And I Loved Every Second

As far as sequels go, I cannot deny that this one rocked. It can be so, so hard to follow up a first book without it feeling like retreading old ground or that there is arbitrary or artificial conflict that doesn't feel natural. Xiran Jay Zhao did not have those problems. This book felt immediate, vibrant, and deeply fucked up in the best possible way. I loved how messy it was, and how it refused to make deeply morally, ethically, and organizationally messy things simple, instead giving us the chance to watch the mess unfold and force characters to make choices in situations where there is not right answer. Let's talk Heavenly Tyrant.

This is you SPOILER WARNING. If you go below the cut, I'm SPOILING THE END of the book in like the first two sentences. You've been warned.

Sooooooo...she fully stabbed Qin Zheng in the heart, which somehow radicalized him into a full-on misogynist and patriarchal asshole (although let's be fair, that wouldn't have happened if he wasn't already well on his way to this point), and Shimin is a mechanical bird now. That's a LOT to deal with, and we're going to get there, then this whole book was a LOT. You don't just casually wake up a historical hero, crown him emperor, end up in a toxic situationship with him where you both plan to take down the gods and then murder the hell out of him without a lot of other elements.

Oh also, there was a reign of terror in there that got a little out of hand before they reined it in.

Now, as a heads up for those of you who like all the sci fi stuff in these books: I'm not so much a sci fi girl, so I'm not really going to talk much about those elements of the book. They were well executed and fine, but I was here for other things, so if you want a deep dive into the more sci fi elements, this is not the review for you. My focus is really going to be character dynamics and the politics.

Zetian and Qin Zheng

Sooooooooooooooo. So so so so. These two. The absolute fuckery that is the power dynamic between Zetian and Zheng is unquestionably my favorite part of this whole book. She is out here without the education and experience he has, but the conviction that women are people, the end. He's over here being this weird combination of toxic Mr. Darcy who has the education and principles but SO MUCH PRIDE and patriarchal baggage that it fucks up his implementation and Phantom of the Opera who thinks women are property.

This is what we in the business call an irreconcileable difference. So naturally they have to rule Huaxia and defeat the gods together, which requires finding some way to WORK together. And they do, technically. They get into all these weird power and dominance struggles behind the scenes, but there are also some AMAZING saves because the truth is, they need each other for now. I'm thinking particularly of when Zetian saves Zheng's ass at her coronation and pulls off a "it was a tech glitch" cover for him low-key almost dropping dead mid-ceremony. That was an A-level situation save.

And then she goes around licking things in front of him to assert dominance, which...is a choice. That I kind of loved, not gonna lie.

That said, Zheng did that absolutely bonkers thing where he had to interact with Zetian every day, heard her advocate for women, and somehow STILL managed to think she'd be chill with being his personal fantasy of a tradwife? Like...my dude. She crushed a building of people who wanted that for her, and you think you're going to be the singular dude who changes her mind? And then he had the SHEER NERVE to be surprised when she stabbed him.

Qin Zheng. Sir. Zetian fought you tooth and nail this entire book and was in the single most mutually toxic situationship I have ever seen and you genuinely thought she LIKED YOU??? The cognitive dissonance and self-delusion there is astounding. And somehow also completely unsurprising. Although the fact that he went full paternalistic patriarch in the epilogue had me just DREADING what was coming for Zetian in the next book. And "After all, his son cannot grow up without a mother" is a HELL of a line from this man.

Now Zetian...Zetian learns SO MUCH in this book. She learns about building her own power base separate from Qin Zheng, but also she kept getting hit in the face with patriarchy. She kept getting "be a wife and mother" and "get pregnant" and "don't hurt the (extremely fake) baby" and "use your sexuality to get what you want." All of which are SO IRRITATING even as she learns to weaponize them. Literally patriarchy hurts everyone, and watching her having to use the tools of the patriarchy and hating it but having no recourse was painful and infuriating in the best way. And Qin Zheng somehow didn't see it coming because he didn't see Zetian as her own person.

I seriously want to shake this man.

Zetian and Yizhi

Yizhi just kept making me go, "Sir. SIR. Explain your damn self" through this entire book. Taking down his family made sense, but then he kept doing cloak-and-dagger secrets and betrayals and double and triple agenting, and SIR WHAT THE HELL IS YOUR ENDGAME HERE??? It seemed to be some combination of protecting Zetian as much as he could with what he was given, having a weirdly personal beef with Qin Zheng, and taking down capitalism, but I want this man's perspective and inner monologue because WHAT EVEN.

I did ADORE that he was over here quadruple agenting and conspiring to trick Zheng into thinking he would die horribly if not in isolation and mucking around with IVF procedures. Although the "Dammit Zetian, I'm a political and criminal mastermind, not a doctor" line when he said the baby PROBABLY isn't Zetian's was just...*chef's kiss*

That said...he did still definitely violate Zetian's bodily autonomy, even if it was to stop Sima Yi and Zheng from forcing her into having a biological child. It's...one of those situations that is so fucked up there just isn't a RIGHT answer, there's only the answer that you and the woman you love can (probably, we all hope) live with. I love how MESSY this whole thing was. Yizhi is a messy drama queen in the very best way possible.

And the vibes I got from how Yizhi said "entertainment establishments" on the giant-ass space station made my heart hurt for him. I was really impressed that Yizhi could be as hard and soft as he was simultaneously.

Zetian and Her Various Girl Squads

Zetian is absolutely correct that women need more autonomy. Does she go about this perfectly, or even in the most effective way possible? Big Sister showing up in a dream to ask what she's doing for the 97% of women who can't be pilots would suggest no, but we aren't going to be the people who stop trying because the solution we have in the moment isn't perfect. And one of the strengths Zetian has is that she pulls lots of different kinds of women around herself and she listens to them.

She reforms the Iron Widows and she takes as much of a personal interest as she can in these girls, helping them follow in her footsteps. Then she also brings Wan'er and Taiping into her circle and she takes the different perspectives in, synthesizes them, and does her best to advocate for them with Qin Zheng before they collectively figure out how to scaffold other structures and organizations to do that work independently. It's not perfect, and it's probably not going to be enough now that Zheng has decided he understands why binding women's feet is a GOOD idea, but Zetian made real, concrete strides forward to support and protect women.

I also love her relationships with Wan'er, Quielo, and Taiping, because again, this whole book is about fucked up situations and relationships, but Zetian does manage to make these real, valuable, and lovely connections that bring meaning to her life, both personally and publicly. I love a good girl squad, and Zetian manages to find hers, even after being surrounded by men and betrayed by a female mentor figure in the last book. That kind of resilience and willingness to see messy nuance and keep moving? Impressive as all hell.

The Shimin Thing and the State of the Polycule

Shimin is a metal bird now. Shimin is the Vermillion Bird. This honestly left me with more questions than anything else, because it's not entirely clear what Shimin is, where his head is at, or how he is. And it's not clear how Yizhi and Zetian are about getting him back in this form, in this way, especially after accepting that he was gone.

Not to mention that the Yizhi-Zetian size of the iron triangle is...a little rusted, to say the least, and Zetian had whatever the hell she had with Zheng too. Yes, she stabbed him. But that was complicated by the relief mixed in with the frustration when she didn't succeed in killing him. So uh...the triangle is doing something weird and we're going to need to address that more in the next book. None of them are ok, and they're ALL going to need to deal with the aftermath of the past year-ish.

The Politics

OK SO. The sheer amount of cognitive dissonance in Qin Zheng's whole "the products of labor should belong to the laborers" and the whole productivity fetish and the "don't be a money-grubbing capitalist" thing coexisting with "women aren't really people" thing is insane. Also, the whole, "your value in society is contingent upon the labor you provide" tends to rub me the wrong way because it does not take into account things like severe disabilities or illnesses and implies a devaluation of anyone who does not provide labor that society considers valuable. Which Zetian DOES address from a gender perspective, because Qin Zheng clearly misses the amount of labor women do that simply isn't acknowledged as such. And Zetian tried to ameliorate this. But I also wish just a little that the existence of a human life was valued more than anything else.

Zetian also learns how to perform politics in this book, which is a really interesting journey to watch, and having her go from randomly screaming slogans Wan'er feeds her to actually plotting photo ops and events is intriguing.

Overall, this was a FABULOUS book, and I cannot wait to see where these characters go and what Zhao will do next.

[lau219]

👀 Sneak Peek 👀

After Hours

•• Robert Fischer x Reader ••

Summary:

The bittersweet ache that comes with loving someone you can’t have…

As an employee of Fischer Morrow, Y/F/N Y/L/N is determined to make a positive impact, even if that means bending the rules now and then. Really, she shouldn’t get away with some of the things she does, but with her warmth and sweetness, she can convince her boss, Robert Fischer, to agree to pretty much anything. And it’s really not that hard, seeing as Robert can never quite get Y/N off his mind.

But when the work day is done, she has another secret job after hours, and when Robert happens to learn that Y/N moonlights at the city’s burlesque club, he can’t seem to resist going to see if she’s just as good at that job as she is at Fischer Morrow…

Mood Boards

……………………………………………………………………………

This is not the story’s beginning, but rather, a little mid-story snippet.

Please tell me what you think!!!

“Mr. Fischer, what are you doing here?” the receptionist asked him, looking up with an expression of confused surprise. But as soon as she’d said it, her face flushed with nervous embarrassment and she spoke again.

“I mean…I’m sorry, Mr. Fischer. Can I help you with something?” She fumbled with her ID badge, likely thinking he was going to take note of her name so that he could ensure she was fired later.

“Yes, I need to pick something up from Miss Y/L/N’s office,” Robert replied, not even noticing how the woman had greeted him or that she was anxious because of it. “Is she still at lunch?”

The receptionist’s nervous expression didn’t change.

“Uh, yes, she is,” she said, of course unaware that that was the answer Robert was hoping for.

“I need to pick something up from her office that she left there for me,” he repeated, “if you could show me where it is.”

After saying that, Robert realized it was not such a great reflection on him that Y/N had been working as closely with him as she had for almost two years and he didn’t even know where her office was. He’d never even come to this floor of the building before.

Five minutes later and Robert was in Y/N’s office with the door closed, standing behind her desk as he looked for her planner. If she had a schedule or calendar of any kind for when she performed, it’d be in there. She lived by that planner, and he had to find out when she’d be performing again.

His heart pounding, Robert knew he was running short on time — Y/N could be back any minute and find him there. He also knew what he was doing was wrong, but in the moment, he didn’t care.

But after five minutes of looking on her desk and in her drawers, and being very careful to make sure nothing looked like it had been disturbed, he couldn’t find her planner anywhere, and he’d almost given up. Maybe she’d taken it with her to lunch.

But then, as he turned to push Y/N’s chair back in, Robert spotted the familiar floral patterned cover of her planner, which was sitting on top of her computer tower, the corner of it peeking out from under the papers she’d given him to sign earlier that day.

Immediately reaching for it, Robert lifted the planner from the tower and opened it, his eyes landing on the neatly organized pages with notes jotted everywhere in Y/N’s handwriting. As he leafed through the pages, he noticed she had color-coded the commitments she’d written in for herself each day, and after a moment, his eyes landed on a spot where she’d written his name…well, a version of his name, in pink ink.

Robbie - 10:45 a.m.

Then he looked to the next date.

Robbie - 9:30 a.m. (Remind him about this one!)

Then he flipped the page to the following week.

Robbie’s speech @ The Hilton - 1:00 p.m. (Bring an extra copy of his notes!)

Robert flipped through a few more pages, and on each one, in every slot where Y/N had a commitment with him or pertaining to him, she’d written it in that same way.

Robbie.

She’d never called him that, at least not to his face. Of course, it was possible that she could have been referring to someone else, but he knew that wasn’t true, seeing as each entry for “Robbie” was a duplicate of his commitments that he knew he had on his own calendar.

No, it wasn’t someone else. It was him.

Slowly inhaling, Robert glanced down again. His heart pounded once more and a rush went through him as he thought of Y/N and looked at her writing again.

Robbie.

Quickly, he lifted the entire set of pages in the planner and flipped through them, and as they fanned backwards, they suddenly stopped on his thumb when he reached a section that was divided from the rest. Once he saw she had things like “Manicure”, “Dentist”, and “Dinner with Nicole” listed on the pages, he realized this was the section where she kept her personal calendar.

And then there it was. The club’s name, written in purple ink.

Plume - 9:00 p.m.

He flipped to the next week.

Plume - 10:00 p.m.

The next week.

Plume - 8:00 pm (Serving first, onstage at 10)

Each week, it was entered somewhere. Which day she’d entered it during the week, however, varied slightly among Thursday, Friday, or Saturday.

As Robert turned to the current week, his eyes scanned the page until he saw the entry he was looking for. It was written in on Thursday.

Plume - 10:00 p.m.

Looking up, Robert inhaled, and then he quickly grabbed a pen and Post-It off Y/N’s desk, hurriedly copying down the dates and times noted in her calendar for the next several weeks, then slipping the paper into his pocket. He then slowly closed Y/N’s planner, and then turned and replaced it on her computer tower, making sure to put it back the way he’d found it under the other papers.

As he exited her office, he closed the door behind him as it had been and then quickly walked through the reception area before making it to the elevators and pressing the call button.

After seeming to take forever, the bell finally dinged and the elevator opened, and thankfully, it was empty. Once inside, Robert pressed the button for his floor, and as soon as the doors closed, he released a heavy exhale.

At the moment, he couldn’t even recall what was on his own calendar for Thursday night, but whatever his plans currently were, he’d just decided they’d been cancelled.

Part 1

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