#or something i 'should be doing'. writing is the only thing that i do and i push myself in bc i love it

[yanderenightmare]

Bakugou Katsuki

♡ TW: boyfriend Katsuki's strange guilty pleasure, harassment, nasty online comments, noncon ideations, online pervs

♡ FEM reader

Your laptop’s out of battery, and you have something you need to check—so, instead of waiting for it to charge, you decide to just use Katsuki’s. The guy’s so anal-coded—he has it plugged into the charger every second of every day to avoid running out. 

“I’m borrowing your laptop, Kats!” you call. 

He’s the bath, so you’re not sure he heard you, but also, you don’t think it’s any big deal. You’ve been a couple for years now, and living together has only brought you closer. Besides, it’s not as if you’re going to snoop or anything—you’re just going to check something real quick.

You rethink it when you have to write in his password. Maybe it would be better to just wait for your own machine to get ready—it’s not as if you’re in a hurry or anything. But then again, at the same time, it doesn’t hurt to give it your best guess.

Right on the first try—your name and birthday. Though you appreciate the gesture, he really should see into getting something stronger than that. The information he is privy to through his work is quite sensitive, after all.

But anyway. Onto the task at hand. You click into the browser. It’s already got some tabs open. 

You don’t mean to let your eyes wander, but it just can’t be helped. Katsuki sits before this thing, sometimes for hours during the day. Of course, most of it is surely work-related, writing incident rapports and profiles and the like. But this page right here… you don’t know… something about it seems strange.

“Some type of forum…” you mutter to no one but yourself. Katsuki had never struck you as the type to neither read nor partake in other people’s banter. Again, you’d promised yourself you weren’t going to pry, but it only takes a few seconds to read the comments—it’s over before you can stop yourself.

I bet she’s a squealer, like a really cute squealer

I wanna tie her up in an abandoned building somewhere no one will hear her scream

Same, but not on the bed though, on the floor and take her like a bitch

I‘m sure dynamight fucks her every day, i know i would! 

Dynamight’s such a lucky guy I hate him

You blink reading through the comments—completely having forgotten what you were doing in the first place. Who are these people? What are these comments about? You keep scrolling, eyebrows knit, and then you see it—your name. 

She looks like the type of girl that lets her man fuck her anywhere he wants whenever he wants

I’d literally kill for an hour of having her alone. And I’d make good use of that hour. Make her dump that blond asshat to be with me.

If she were my girlfriend, I’d keep her leashed to the bed with a collar. Can’t have other guys looking at her when she’s mine.

I’d only feed her cum. Trust me, she wouldn’t go hungry.

You’re eyes are fully wide now. Are all these chats about you? What’s Katsuki doing in a place like this? Reading all these sick comments as if he isn’t your boyfriend.

“Hey!” A shout knocks you out of your trance—and startles you enough that it very nearly even knocked you off balance.

“What’re you doin’ on my computer?” he asks in accusation while taking hurried and thundering steps toward you—still wet from his shower, wearing nothing but a white towel around his lower half.

“Uh,” you struggle to find your voice, heart hammering in your chest, head spinning—feeling both caught red-handed and the exact opposite. “Uhm, nothing—I just—”

He rips the laptop off the desk, angry eyes staring at the screen—then quickly going round.

His face pales. You can practically see the goosebumps as they rise in a rush across his skin. 

He swallows thickly, jaw-locked—doesn’t even dare look at you as he asks the question, “Did you read?”

You almost consider saying no but decide against it. This wasn’t something you could just ignore. No, you needed an explanation. Who knows? It might be completely innocent.

“Some of it…” you confess.

He shudders, and then he places the laptop down again, slowly, soundless. He rests his hands on the table and leans his weight on them, head bowed, voice small.

“I just… I… It’s, well…” He scratches the back of his neck, looking for the words.

You’ve never seen him like this before. Katsuki is nervous. But you suppose it’s for good reason.

“It’s not what you think, okay?” he declares, finally looking at you. 

His face is something unfamiliar—riddled with this guilty anxiety you’ve never pictured before—frazzled. It’s completely odd.

“Okay,” you say calmly. You don’t know if you’re angry or not yet. You know you probably should be, but the look on the man’s face is making you feel sorry for him.

“I don’t agree with any of this,” he insists, gesturing to the laptop. 

“Well, yeah, I sure hope so,” you say, although the question still remains, “But why are you on there then?”

“It…” He’s blushing—profusely—bright vermillion-tipped ears and apple-red cheeks. He looks away again. “I don’t know…”

I don’t know is an excuse you’ve never heard come out of his mouth. In fact, excuse or not, it’s a phrase you didn’t think him capable of. But look at him now, using it the same childish way a kid would after being caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

“You better not lie to me, Katsuki Bakugou—or I know someone who’s sleeping on the couch,” you finally find your strict tone. He’s crazy if he thinks this is something you’ll just forget about.

He sighs and then he falls into his desk chair, back hunched, hiding his face, wrapping his arms around your thighs and pulling you close, nuzzling his head against you, mumbling under his breath, “It’s sick, and it makes me sick…”

You wait, giving him the time to figure it out.

“But it…” he continues. You feel his hands tremble just a bit before he confesses, “It makes me feel good.”

You’re not sure you understand, and so you ask for clarification, “What makes you feel good?”

He sighs again, and this time, his voice comes out dark and lusty, leaving no room for confusion, “To know that I have something everybody else wants.”

♡ BAKUGOU KATSUKI masterlist ♡ BOKU NO HERO ACADEMIA masterlist ♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist ♡ ALL masterlists

[rauspberries]

still a friend. - s.r.

sure hope it was one hell of a kiss, my friend.

spencer reid x bau liasion!reader.

summary: after your new boyfriend turns out to a murderer, spencer will do anything in his power to help you smile again.

tags: afab reader, sunshine x sunshine, mentions of guns, kidnapping, murder & other themes present in criminal minds, panic attack, hurt/comfort, forced proximity that’s not forced at all, i like to imagine it as later seasons reid [however there's no mention of prison arc], still a friend by the backseat lovers

word count: 3.1k

notes: ok hear me out. think about the episode 'lucky' and the episode 'penelope.' that's what i'm going for here. this is my first ever time writing spencer. it took me days. free me.

hey @reidswrld

If you closed your eyes tight enough, you felt like you were still there. Cold metal pressed against your temple, harsh words in your ears, the pull of rope against your wrists. Despite the familiarity of your home, decorated in low lights and multiple potted plants that were loved like your own children, you had been afraid. He had turned it into a place of fear, a spot for nothing but bad memories and bloodstains in your carpet.

It had been almost three weeks since your team had pushed into your apartment, only to be met with the sight of you bound to your dining room chairs, your boyfriend of only a couple weeks holding a handgun to your head. You loved those chairs, and had told the whole team about them right after you had purchased them. They were thrifted, hand-carved by an artist you never had the pleasure to meet. Shame that you’d never be able to look at them the same anymore.

Your boyfriend had been an idiot. A psychotic one, but an idiot all the same. He had left too much evidence behind with his three victims, making it too easy for your team to profile him and pick him out of their list of names. Once you had accidentally let it slip that the BAU was on the tail of their suspect, you had become a problem, needing to be eliminated. So he had tried.

You had worked as a liaison for long enough to learn a few tells of body language, or the original signs of psychopathic behavior. Despite this, you had missed all of them when it came to him. You had been too excited to find someone that could handle your busy and erratic schedule, someone that loved you for you, something that was rare in this day and age. You had even let his passive-aggressive demeanor slide, along with the comments that always tended to sting somewhere deep inside.

After he had been taken down by Morgan and Hotch, you’d wanted out of your apartment as soon as possible. JJ and Garcia had packed up your stuff based off of a small list you provided them once your hands and voice had stopped shaking. They had whispered in your presence, keeping secrets about the case to each other and asking if you were okay. They hadn’t needed to whisper – your ears hadn’t stopped ringing.

For a while, you stayed in a hotel, curled in the cool sheets that smelled like nothing as you stared at the plain walls, so different from the house you had turned into a home with wallpaper and pretty colors. For a while, you chastised yourself for not getting over it faster. You thought about how you should be stronger in times like these, especially with everything you saw on a daily basis in your job as the BAU unit’s liaison. Unfortunately, it was a lot easier to compartmentalize when it wasn’t happening directly to you. 

You weren’t like everyone else on your team, you couldn’t just act like these things didn’t happen.

You tried to trick your brain into producing serotonin. You attempted to shower every morning, eat three meals, even exercise in the seclusion of your hotel room. But every shower ended with you staring blankly at the wall, every meal went untouched, and once you were on the ground, you couldn’t get back up. 

As normal protocol, you were given a minimum of three weeks of leave in the wake of the event. For the first week, everyone took turns checking on you. Penelope brought you fun-colored stress toys that collected dust on the side table, while Emily and JJ sat with you to chat about anything but what had happened. 

And Spencer? Spencer brought you company. He sat at the desk chair in the corner, long legs stretched out as he babbled about anything and everything. Sometimes, he sat there quietly, only speaking up to ask you if you knew the answer to a certain crossword question. Usually, it was something easy, something he already knew. Like, a passionate declaration, like in marriage vows – the answer was too obviously avowal.

Each time he visited, he left a book for you, annotations directed towards you scribbled in the margins and tabs marking the parts he thought you’d like best. The first book, Sense and Sensibility by Jane Austen, had a scrawl on the author’s dedication page, with Reid noting both opinions and facts about the book. You felt your lips twitch with the ghost of a smile as you read the definitions of both of the words in the titles and how they were related to the actual book, as you read the words and the facts the doctor had written in the blank spaces.

After a week of Spencer stopping by every day before and after work, you gave him the extra keycard to your room that you had been given when you checked in. A lot of the time you didn’t have the energy to crawl out of your bed, so it made it easier for you. Despite having the key card, he still always knocked, waiting on some type of verbal sign before actually opening the door and stepping in.

One night, he stopped by your hotel room, a take-out bag looped over his forearm as he rustled in his bag for the keycard. Once it was curled between his palm and fingers, he lightly rapped on the door, leaning his head closer to it to listen for your voice calling for him to come in. His brow furrowed when he was only met with the sound of your room’s AC unit and the faint sniffles it attempted to cover.

Immediately, he had bursted into your room after sliding the key card into the slot above the knob, long legs getting him to your bedside as soon as possible. His eyes had softened as he took in the sight of you sitting up, arms laced around your knees, which were pulled up to your chest defensively. Your eyes were dark, sullen, the whites of them red with irritation from pushing away tears. Even your breathing was erratic, chest rising and falling quickly until it sounded like wheezing.

Spencer had pulled you practically into his lap, your fingers gripping at the soft material of his sweater as his large hand ran up and down the expanse of your back. He had murmured soft words that didn’t quite register to you, however were soothing all the same, as he pressed your hand to his chest, letting you feel the steady beat of his heart.

Once you had finally been soothed properly, your breathing evening out as his hand slowed until it lay still on your spine, you explained to him that you had been woken by a nightmare, the same one that had been playing through your head for the past two weeks. Immediately, he insisted that you stay at his apartment. As if proving it would help steer your decision towards a “yes,” he spilled out facts about processing traumas, like how talking to people and reminding yourself of pleasant hobbies, along with being in a familiar place, would help with recovery.

Which is how you ended up curled up on his couch, fingers tracing the pages of the book in your lap. You had been picking through all of Jane Austen’s books since you had started sleeping on his couch, with Emma being your pick of the week. Spencer hadn’t gotten to annotating this one yet, too busy with a new case that had just come in, so you had plucked a pen off of his desk, scribbling notes just like he usually did. It didn’t matter much, since you tended to spill your opinion to him the minute he stepped through the door, however it kept your brain occupied.

Your head raises as you recognize the sound of his key in the lock, looking up and over your shoulder just as it opened. “Welcome home. I’m almost done with Emma. It’s quite amusing, less factual, so I’m not sure if you’ll like it, but it’s good.” You glance back down at the pages as you stick a receipt in the fold of the book, shutting it before continuing. “It’s about a matchmaker named Emma. She thinks she’s the best at it, especially because she set up the governess and a wealthy widower, but she ends up missing all of the signs that the men she’s matching are into her.”

As you speak, Spencer takes his satchel off, laying it on the armchair near the front door before slowly making his way towards his couch. A smile pulls at his lips as his fingers work to undo the buttons on his wrists, brow raising slightly. “You have been reading quite a bit since you settled in here.”

A soft huff leaves your nose as you settle back into the cushions, watching as he perches himself up onto the back of the leather couch. It feels wrong to be so comfortable in an apartment that’s not your own, but it’s almost impossible to not feel soothed by the dark wood that makes up his desk and bookshelves, which were stacked with books upon books of all different genres. The verdun color of the walls alongside the sets of patterned couch pillows and comfortable throw blankets were ten times better than the impersonable decorations of the hotel room you had lived in for two weeks.

“Well, you don’t have a TV, and you can’t play chess by yourself.” There’s a pause, and then you speak again. “Unless you’re you. And I’m not,” you add, pulling your knees up to your chest and wrapping your arms around them.

He folds the edges of his sleeves back towards himself, pushing up the fabric up to his elbows, revealing his forearms slowly. “Playing chess by yourself is actually the best way to learn how to play and hone your skills. Many professional chess players, such as Bobby Fischer, often play chess alone. It helps you learn the game and discover what type of player you are. It gives you more time to focus on your moves so that, in an actual chess match, you don’t run out of time before you know what to do.”

You toss the ballpoint pen in your hands at his chest, huffing in mock irritation as he easily catches it and tosses it back to you. “Good thing I’m not looking to switch career paths anytime soon, hm?” Your brow quirks slightly, your amusement apparent only in that little movement.

“That it is.” He responds, still holding a soft smile as his coffee-colored eyes soften around the corners edges. His gaze averts downwards at his fingers as he starts to tug on them, growing sheepish. “How have you been?” 

Despite the vagueness and normalcy of the question, you immediately know what he’s referring to, suddenly finding the loose threads on the blanket over your lap very interesting. “Better,” you admit, seeing no reason to lie. “The nightmares aren’t as bad as they were back at the hotel, but they’re not gone. The panic comes and goes.”

Slowly, like he’s afraid he’ll spook you, he stands back up, moving around the couch before settling a cushion away from you. He leans back against the arm of the couch as he starts working at loosening his tie, pulling it over his head before laying it on his coffee table. “Do you want to talk about it? All aspects of trauma can be lessened by communicating it to a trusted individual. Not necessarily go through it again, like cognitive interviews, but speaking more about the depth of it. How you felt, why you still feel it even after that, the direct cause of feeling like you’re still there.”

Just like that, you’re setting your book aside, knees pulling up to your chest in an attempt to shy away. It’s funny how you can know body language so well and yet not stop yourself from giving yourself away with it. Knees to chest meant a multitude of things, such as defensive posture or an intense interest in wanting to leave conversations or situations. You had to look at the situation as a whole to figure out the exact reason, or the other cues. Hunched back and averted eye contact usually indicated sadness, fear or insecurity. The rub of your own hand against your arm indicated self-soothing. It was all about the context.

Spencer notices quickly, reaching out to brush his fingertips against your kneecap. Despite the soft touch, he doesn’t speak, lips pressing in a harder line as he simply gazes at you. He’s waiting for you to speak, to take in whatever information you’ll give him. 

Looking into his eyes, you realize why people call them ‘puppy dog eyes.’ Glancing into them, you’re ready to spill your guts about just about everything. You’re tempted to tell him about the candy bar you stole when you were in sixth grade, or when you tripped someone in the high school hallway because they kept shoving into you.

“I thought he liked me.” You mumble once you realize you had just been staring at him for the past few moments, plucking at the throw blanket again as you avert your gaze. “But looking back, he was a bit mean. He’d always make these little comments.” You clear your throat as you glance towards the ceiling, blinking quickly to try and avoid the sting of tears. “Like ‘didn’t you wear that shirt yesterday,’ or ‘sure you don’t want to change’?”

As you speak, Spencer’s hand moves to cup your entire kneecap, thumb brushing against the soft spot in the middle. His touch is warm, heating up the skin underneath your sweatpants. He can practically see the words on the edge of your tongue, allowing you to continue. 

Your focus doesn’t stray from the hand on your knee as you let the words fall out. “He’d knocked on my door. It was normal. Stepped inside, let me kiss him on the cheek. Thinking about it makes me want to gag.” One of your hands lifts to touch your fingers against your mouth, tracing the line of your lips as you remember the feel.

“You can feel the change in the room when someone goes from good to bad. I didn’t think it’d be like the movies and shows, where they describe their eyes as darkening or their smile as wicked, but it is. The energy changes. It feels like slow motion.” 

Your breathing picks up as you speak. Spencer’s quick to notice it, body leaning closer towards you, like he’s prepared to catch you if you fall. Your lips part in an attempt to speak again, but the words are swallowed by a soft sob. Before you know it, you’re tumbling down a hill, heart beating faster and breathing growing quicker.

Memories, the science that comes along with them, are all one hell of a thing. Everything about them has an effect on the brain. Things like sounds, smells, textures, they’re connected to the memories. Meaning if you think about them, if you feel them, you end up right back where you were at that time and place. Like how sunshine on your skin reminds you of days at the park as a young kid, or how the smell of flowers brings you back to the farmer’s market on a Sunday after you just moved to DC. 

Thinking about what led up to you being tied up to the chair, you can feel it. The icy chill of fear that cascaded over your back, the dread that sunk deep in your stomach, even the goosebumps that traveled up your arm. They’re all there. It’s like it’s happening again.

Your vision blurs around the edges as you struggle to take in air, hand grasping at Spencer’s for any type of support. You’re aware of what’s happening, but you cannot stop it, not even as you try to take in air into your nose and out through your mouth. His voice echoes in your head, but it morphs into something different, something distorted.

You’re only brought out of your panic by the feeling of lips on yours.

Your eyes widen at the shock of it, chest still heaving as your breath evens out. Your hand still clutches at Spencer’s as you feel your entire body relax, allowing yourself the comfort of kissing him back.

After your entire body has relaxed, your chest no longer hurting with the strain of lost breath, Spencer pulls away. His eyes are slightly wide as he looks at you, studying your face for any signs of being uncomfortable. “I’m sorry. Uhm.” He clears his throat, leaning away from you as he runs his hands through his hair. “Uh, kissing. It releases so-called happy chemicals, such as oxytocin and serotonin, tricking your brain into leaving the panic behind. It also helps you steady your breathing. Nothing else was working so, uh…”

As he trails off, you reach out to grab his hand again, giving it a soft squeeze. “Thank you.” It’s not meant to be a reassurance, but it's close enough. 

You watch as the panic slowly leaves his eyes, settling into only a soft worry, although his cheeks are still dusted with a light shade of pink. “You’re welcome,” he responds bashfully, eyes still looking down at his lap.

A soft laugh leaves your lips as you reach up to brush your tears away, leaning back into the couch again. After a moment of silence, you roll your lips into your mouth before speaking. “Can we go see a movie?”

Spencer’s brows raise in surprise, the lines on his forehead from focusing so much prominent. “Like, at a theater? Are you sure?” He’s still tugging at his fingers as he speaks, head tilting slightly as he assesses all of your body language.

You smile sheepishly at him, body slowly uncurling. “Yeah. I have a tough BAU agent to protect me, don’t I?”

He smiles brightly at that, eyes softening as he glances back up at your face. “That you do.”

[rinffection]

୨ৎ Let me do your makeup, love!

when you’re too sleepy in the morning to do your makeup.. so your boyfriend helps you do it instead!

featuring! Itoshi Rin x female reader. Pure fluff!!

a/n : my first work.. I hope you guys enjoyy :3 sorry if it’s short I get bored of writing really fast ;(

notes : afab!reader, mxf, NOT PROOFREAD, rushed!

“Why’re you still in bed?” Rin narrowed his eyes at you as he examined your current situation, — messed up, still sprawled on the bed and hugging that stuffed bear he had won for you at the arcade last Saturday.

The alarm clock on your bedside table flashed 11:57am. You had overslept. You groaned, flipping over and slowly sitting up as if it was a pain to do so.

You knew that you and Rin always went out together on a Saturday, except today, your limbs were giving you a hard time, and you really didn’t want to get up at the moment.

“I’m too tired.” You whined, rubbing your eyes to focus on your vision. “Let’s stay home today,” you mumble after yawning.

“Too tired?” He scoffs, raising an eyebrow at you. But it didn’t take long before he sighed and sat on the edge of your bed, as if complying to you.

“Come on, I’ll help you get ready.” He mutters, reaching his hand over to your face to brush away a few strands of your hair messily framing your face. You grumbled and whined in mumbled complaints as he hooked you up into his embrace, carrying you to the bathroom.

—

“What are you doing?” You let out a sleepy chuckle as he applied foundation over your face with a makeup sponge. His phone was playing one of those makeup tutorials on YouTube as he followed the steps precisely.

“Doing your makeup.” He huffed, setting the sponge down and lifting your chin to observe how well he did.

When he let out a grunt of approval, he pressed play on his phone, watching intently once again. You smiled faintly at his determined expression.

“Awh, are you my personal makeup artist now, Rinnie?” You teased, poking at him for a reaction. His lips curved into a slight frown as he shot you a small glare, before pausing the video again.

“This is only a one-time thing.” He mutters, before scanning all your makeup items and eventually finding some concealer. As he dabs some over your blemishes, you give him a teasing grin.

You hum a playful tune, letting him follow the instructions on the YouTube video playing on his phone. He seemed too intent to make sure your makeup looks flawless, so you didn’t bother ruining his focus as he did your makeup.

Once he was done, he clawed the top of your head and turned your head to face the mirror. It was an hour later, which was longer than you usually took. But considering it was his first time, you shrugged it off. At least he didn’t create a monstrosity on your face.

Well, he was the Rin Itoshi. Your boyfriend who was precise and detail-oriented. You figured he would’ve probably freaked out if he messed something up anyways, — even if he didn’t show it on his face.

You beamed at your own reflection, before catching his nervous expression from the corner of your eyes.

“You did so well, Rinnie. You should do my makeup more. Maybe when I’m sleepy in the mornings, mhm?” You smile, turning around to give him a small peck on his lips.

“Whatever. It’s nothing.” He huffs. Though, you giggled at the light shade of pink dusting his cheeks as he turned his head to the side.

after notes! : HII! I hope you enjoyed this one. I got this idea from a instagram reel where the girl was letting her boyfriend do her makeup because she was too sleepy… and I was like, bye, this is literally me. (Except I have no boyfriend 😭)

[kashverse]

love your writing style kash!! thank you for the beautiful fica that are so soft and heartwarming to read 😞🫰

could i request for a scenario where mamakuna is sick (like a flu/fever) and how babykuna and dadkuna work together to help her feel betterrrrr 😇 -v

the flu had been going around, and you knew it was only a matter of time before it got you. but knowing it was one thing—experiencing it was another. it hit you like a truck. fever, chills, congestion—the works. so when you called sukuna at his office, your voice hoarse and pitiful, he dropped everything, canceled an entire board meeting (screw the shareholders), and stormed out. by the time he gets home, he's expecting pure chaos. maybe the maids scrambling, maybe you barely conscious—something. instead, he walks into your shared bedroom and stops dead in his tracks.

there, at the edge of the bed, is babykuna, her tiny legs swinging, her face set in deep concentration as she places all her plushies around you in a perfect protective circle. labubu is at your pillow. sonny angel squad is stationed near your hands. he even spots one of his socks stuffed into the arrangement like some sort of talisman.

"…what are you doing?" sukuna asks, raising a brow. babykuna, without looking up, adjusts a bunny plush near your shoulder. “making mama better.” sukuna sighs, making his way to the bed, crouching beside you.

"baby, i have an entire medical team on speed dial. your mama doesn’t need—"

"papa, hush," she interrupts, waving a hand at him dismissively. “you don’t get it. they give comfort. the magic of the plushies is real.” sukuna opens his mouth, then closes it. you, meanwhile, weakly lift your hand. “it’s okay, love. i believe in the plushie magic too.” babykuna nods sagely, satisfied.

but sukuna is still sukuna, so even though he knows the maids could easily take care of you both, he wants to do it. so he sighs, rolls up his sleeves, and trudges to the kitchen. if you’re sick, then fine, he’ll do this properly. twenty minutes later, he returns with a bowl of steaming hot chicken soup, the way you like it. perfectly seasoned, just the right amount of garlic, and not a vegetable in sight (because he knows you’d push them aside). but before he can even set it down—

"mama should eat bread and jam," babykuna suddenly announces, pointing a spoon at you. sukuna’s eye twitches.

"she needs soup."

"she needs bread and jam."

"she needs something warm."

"bread is warm if you toast it."*

sukuna rubs his temples. "she doesn’t need bread and jam, brat—"

"what about appy juice?" babykuna interjects, swinging her legs, completely unfazed. "appy juice is good."

"baby, soup is literally proven to—"

"orange juice?"

"oh my god."

you, snuggled in your fortress of plushies, weakly smile, watching the two most important people in your life bicker over what’s best for you. sukuna sighs in defeat, scooping a spoonful of soup. "open up, baby," he murmurs, bringing it to your lips. before you can take a sip, babykuna gasps. 

“wait! the plushies have to approve first!”

sukuna, face blank, stares at his child. 

"…you’re kidding."

but babykuna is dead serious. she picks up labubu, holds it over the soup, then dramatically nods. “labubu says okay.” sukuna exhales slowly.

"great. tell labubu to shut up next time."

babykuna gasps in pure, unfiltered betrayal. “you take that back.” 

you, sick as you are, wheeze at the scene, your fever momentarily forgotten.

[ghouljams]

Why is c.ai bad? Like genuine question

One of the main reasons you will see people giving as to why c.ai is bad is that much like all "generative" ai it's basically a copy/paste machine. The algorithm that runs c.ai is made by scraping the writing of millions of human authors in order to train the machine on how sentences and "romance" should be structured in order to appeal to the people using it. This is, by and large, just straight up plagiarism and authors like @/ceilidho end up having their content stolen by c.ai users in order to farm more bots.

If you don't care about the plagiarism aspect of c.ai bots then you should care about the environmental aspect of them. ChatGPT alone uses about 2.9 Wh of electricity just to run a single query, and the water used to cool the servers (again for just one question) is equal to about 3 16 oz bottles of water. Google reported their greenhouse gas emissions rose 50% in 5 years just due to ai use. 1 query can power a lightbulb for about 20 seconds, and every question is routed through a data center which uses even more electricity to answer the question. So you sending a chat to c.ai uses a massive amount of electricity, and for the bot to respond takes even more.

Not to mention data centers have to be built, which consumes a lot of resources and energy, and releases a lot of greenhouse gases. Then they have to be powered, which consumes more energy and more water, and releases even more greenhouse gases.

If 1 in 10 working US Americans asked 1 question every week for a year (52 x 17 million) that would use the same amount of energy that it would take to power EVERY HOUSEHOLD IN WASHINGTON DC (671,803) for 20 days. NPR reported on this as an "energy emergency" this is an unprecedented and explosive amount of energy being used very suddenly, very often, and by a lot of people.

Ok you don't care about that either, then let me appeal to you the person who uses c.ai. Maybe you love your favorite author's work and you really want to rp with one of their characters. Is the bot's ability to write that character really as good as the author's? Is it as satisfying? Or are you just caught up in the short-term dopamine rush of the rp?

Because I tried c.ai when it was first getting popular and let me tell you, it was nowhere near as good as the human role plays I was used to. There was no riffing, no plotting out where we wanted the rp to go, no standard reply length, I had to retry replies multiple times to get something even remotely close to something I could work with to respond to. There were filters, I couldn't use certain words or phrases. The bot couldn't remember anything past a few replies. It was BAD. The shot of dopamine I got after the first reply was gone by the time I was on the third one.

Now maybe I was just spoiled by good human rp partners, but I kept seeing people on tiktok complaining about the same problems. "How to break the c.ai filter" was a major issue. People wanted the experience of role playing or writing a fic, but they didn't want to put the effort into actually doing either of those things.

"Just let people enjoy things!" I hear you cry.

You go on c.ai because you're lonely, or bored, or because you think that finding a human to rp with is too hard or they won't like your scenario/kink/whatever. You are actively contributing to the expulsion of artists from fandom spaces and the destruction of the planet in equal measure. If all you care about is short term gratification, then go on the r/IWishIWasHer subreddit and read the rps threads there. If you actually want to roleplay with someone there are a million discord servers that do that. Hell, there are communities on tumblr that you could join and ask about roleplaying!

Relying on instant gratification will numb you to all the joys that creep towards you. If the only thing you can see is the object in front of you, then you're never going to reach for something better further away.

Not to mention none of your chats on c.ai are actually private, the server is scraping all your responses to have the ai send to other people. So if you're telling the bot some real smutty/embarrassing things that you wouldn't want anyone else to see, congrats on everyone else getting a piece of it.

[umblrspectrum]

updated some ref sheets and also actually made jcj one

[ravens-bird]

"You really want to test me right now?" - Zayne.

Pairing: Zayne x F!Reader/MC

Tags: Boyfriend Zayne, uh not-quite-smut smut, oral F!receiving, kissing, fingering, thought of adding semi-exhibitionism, but i have no brain juice left - it's literally 3am. "Love" used as nickname

wc: 1.5k.

Note: Y'all... Guess who just had a dream and decided to write this right after 😮‍💨 Definitely not proofread 🦦 (I don't know what happened, the post got fucked zo repost)

You arrive at Akso Hospital and make your way to the receptionist’s desk, finding Yvonne sorting through paperwork.

"Hey, Yvonne. Busy day?"

She sighs, rubbing her temples—a rare display of exhaustion. You quirk a brow.

"You have no idea," she mutters. "Between the long shifts and this mountain of paperwork, I could use a vacation."

You chuckle. "I bet. Speaking of rounds, do you know where Zayne is?"

"In his office. He just finished up his last patient visit, so he should be resting right now." Then, with a knowing glint in her eyes, she adds, "But he mentioned clocking out early today. I wonder why…"

A playful smirk tugs at your lips. "I might have an idea."

She grins. "Go on, then. Before something else comes up."

You thank her, and make your way up to his office, your heart picking up speed at the thought of finally seeing him after so long.

It had been two weeks since you’d last seen Zayne—his business trip to Mt. Eternal with Dr. Noah had kept him away, and by the time he returned last night, you were already gone on a last-minute mission. This morning, he’d left for work before you even got home, and seeing him had been the only thing on your mind the whole day.

Naturally, the first thing you did after getting off work was come find him.

Stepping inside, your eyes land on him immediately.

Zayne is seated on the couch, his coat and glasses set aside, tie loosened as he leans back with his head resting against the cushions. Was he asleep?

You hesitate for a moment before softly calling his name.

He stirs, blinking up at you in surprise. That’s all the confirmation you need. In a heartbeat, you close the distance, launching yourself onto him before he can even stand.

Zayne grunts at the impact but recovers quickly, wrapping his arms around you as you settle into his lap. "You could’ve just said hello, you know."

You nuzzle into his neck, inhaling the faint, yet familiar scent of his cologne. "Where’s the fun in that? Besides, I missed you."

His hands settle at your waist, fingers squeezing gently. "I missed you too." His voice is softer now, more intimate. Then, amusement flickers in his eyes. "You’re awfully energetic for someone who spent the night hunting down wanderers."

You groan against his skin. "I should just kidnap you for the weekend."

He chuckles, the sound low and warm. "Oh? And do what with me, exactly?"

You pull back slightly, to playfully glare at him. Before you can speak, he lightly presses the back of your neck to bring you closer, pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

“How was your day?” he asks, kneading the back of your neck gently and you melt into his touch, instantly distracted.

“Tiring, but it wasn’t as serious as Tara had made it sound,” you sigh. While the clean-up itself had been a walk in the park, the travelling had been tedious, even with the faster and advanced motorcycles from the Association.

His eyes were bright, and he was looking at you so warmly that you couldn't help but beam at him.

"Yvonne said you were clocking out early." Your fingers find the loose knot of his tie, tugging playfully. "Any particular reason?"

His gaze dips to your lips before he clears his throat. "I figured we deserved a night in."

"Mmm." You hum, letting your hand drift from his tie to his chest, feeling the steady pulse beneath your fingertips. "You’ve been gone so long, Zayne. Do you know how hard it was to sleep alone?"

His jaw tenses slightly, but instead of addressing the obvious implication in your words, he exhales slowly, as if willing himself to stay composed. "We have chamomile tea at home. Studies show it can improve sleep quality with its mild sedative effects when taken before bed."

You blink up at him. Then a slow, sly smile spreads across your lips. "Chamomile tea?" Your fingers graze the fabric of his shirt, trailing lower. "Right, but that wouldn’t help."

His brows knit slightly. "The white noise machine in the bedroom has a setting that mimics rainfall—"

"Not the same as having you next to me."

Your voice is softer this time, but there’s no mistaking the way your fingers press against his chest, the way your body leans into his just enough to make your point.

His grip tightens slightly. "We are still at the hospital," he reminds you, though his voice lacks its usual firmness. "And you're making this difficult."

You smirk, tugging the tie loose until it comes off. "Am I?" You shift just enough for him to feel the friction, watching as his breath catches. "I’m not even doing anything."

The first button of his shirt comes undone beneath your touch, your nails grazing his collarbone.

His hand snaps up suddenly, fingers wrapping around your wrist—not rough, but firm enough to make your breath hitch.

"You really want to test me right now?" His voice is a quiet warning, laced with something dangerous.

Your pulse spikes.

"What if I say yes?"

For a moment, he just watches you, tension coiling between you like a drawn bowstring. Then, Zayne exhales slowly, the warmth of his breath brushing against your skin before he tilts his head, capturing your lips in a kiss that steals your breath.

There’s nothing hesitant or soft about it this time.

A small gasp escapes you, and he swallows it greedily, his hands sliding up your back, pulling you closer, pressing you flush against him.

"You’re doing this on purpose," he murmurs, his voice rough with restraint.

You don’t deny it.

When he finally pulls away, you barely have a moment to catch your breath before he shifts beneath you, his hand trailing up your thigh and to your heat, rubbing you through the thin material of your pants.

"Zayne—" your voice hitches as his fingers press more firmly.

"Yes, love?" His tone is teasing, though his own breath is slightly uneven.

"What happened to being at the hospital?"

"You talk too much."

Before you could retort, he moves again, picking you up with startling ease and changing your positions until you're the one beneath him, pressed into the cushions. The feel of his weight against you, the press of his hips, and his growing arousal, makes your stomach flip in anticipation.

His fingers make quick work of the button of your pants after undoing your belt, pushing them down just enough before his hand dips between your thighs, his touch firm and teasing.

You suck in a sharp breath, hips jerking against his palm as he rubs you through your underwear. He watches you closely, his pupils blown wide with desire. His fingers slip beneath the last barrier of fabric. The sensation makes you whimper.

"So impatient," he speaks in a low voice, his voice a rough whisper as he presses down just right, making you arch into him.

"Zayne—"

He silences you with a heated kiss, swallowing every sound you make as he finger-fucks you. His free hand grips your hip, keeping you pinned as he builds a slow, torturous rhythm, his breath hot against your lips.

"Is this what you wanted?" His silken murmur makes you want to clench your thighs together, but he holds you in place, lips trailing down your throat. "Say it."

You barely manage to gasp out a needy "yes" before he rewards you with a deep stroke that has you trembling beneath him. His chuckle is dark, satisfied, as he continues his slow, deliberate pace, drawing every reaction from you with precise, practiced movements.

Your fingers clutch at his shoulders, nails digging in as the tension coils tight within you. You clench around his fingers, feeling the start of a wave of euphoria when he pulls his hand away, and a desperate, needy noise escapes you.

“Be patient,” he chastises, and you resist the urge to swear when he slides your pants down further, his fingers trail teasingly against your bare skin before he shifts downward, pressing open-mouthed kisses along your inner thigh.

A strangled moan escapes your lips as his mouth finds you, his tongue stroking in slow, deliberate patterns that have your fingers twisting in his hair, your thighs trembling around him.

Zayne works you open with his mouth and fingers, his name falling from your lips in breathless gasps as he devours you with unrelenting focus.

“That’s it, love.” The roughness of his voice was so damn sexy. “Be a good girl, and come for me.”

That finally did it.

When you finally shatter, he groans against you, holding you in place as you ride out the waves of pleasure.

As you pant, still trembling, he wipes the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand, his eyes locked onto you with something dangerously intent.

Before you can catch your breath, he’s already reaching for his belt, a wicked smirk playing at his lips. "We’re not done yet, love. You started this."

[womenclature]

what makes you feel excited, and why? (a) Making art because I get to create something. Because moving paint around is fun. Because colors bring me joy. (b) Watching stunt or dancing videos because other people doing recreational physical activities likewise makes me want to get into my body, jump around, and play.

reflect on a time you faced a challenge. what did you learn from it? Preparation went a long way to help me face the challenge.

write about some media (book, movie, song) that has had a big impact on you. why did it make you feel this way?

think of a person or experience that has positively influenced you. how did they/it inspire you? My boyfriend because he has shown me unconditional love and care.

list three goals you want to achieve before this year ends. how can you take small steps towards them? (a) Less bloat / more defined waist / flatter stomach, achievable by stomach vaccuums each morning. (b) Exercise 3-5x weekly (already doing this) (c) Restraighten my teeth using my retainers (one retainer at a time, starting with just 10 minutes then working up to 30 minutes, and so on, each day) (d) Learn to play 1 piano piece (try practicing just 5 minutes each morning) (e) 10 minutes of Spanish TV daily

describe a time when you discovered something new that sparked your curiosity and inspiration. Well, this isn’t exactly a positive thing, but recently, I have had some interest in learning more about the rise of the USSR. I think I want to finish The Gulage Archipelago by Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn. This is how my curiosity was piqued initially. Another thing is this “History in Maps” book I have, I think published by DK, and on each page (or couple of pages) there is a map demonstrating locations and movements across land during important historical events. For example, it covers the major world wars. I’m really excited to read this book. I bought it last year and have only leafed through a little. It’s a large and heavy hardcover book. It was around $30-$50 from Amazon.

write about a challenge you currently face. what can you do to overcome it? Challenge: I get sucked into the political side of social media and end up just very frustrated with how stupid and ignorant and mean people are. I end up wasting a lot of time on this. Overcome: By exploring more creative pursuits and other personal interests both online and offline (such as I am doing right now) to encourage self-discovery and deepen my understanding of other (non-political) areas.

what are some things in nature that inspire you? how do they make you feel, and why? Animals for sure. I love that they inhabit our world so directly. Sometimes I joke that all wild creatures are “homeless.” What’s so fascinating about them is that the outdoors is their home. They know it and understand it better than any human. I also love seeing the little parallels between their behavior and ours – The way the ducks care for their young little chicks (ducklets? hehe). I also think animal behavior is silly sometimes and they make me laugh, like how the iguanas will just toss their bodies into the canal to flee, or peacocks will cross the streets sooooo slowlyyy as if there aren’t 5 cars waiting for them to move. So oblivious and un-self-aware. It’s cute when animals do it – not so much when humans do it, I guess!

reflect on a time when you felt super proud of yourself. what did you achieve, and how did it make you feel? I think graduating from college and getting my degree was my number one proudest moment. I couldn’t stop smiling. I don’t honestly remember being very proud of myself before or after that. I can’t wait to have that feeling once again.

write a letter to your future self. what are some hopes and dreams you have? how can you work towards them? Future self, this letter is shorter than maybe it should be because I’m feeling impatient at the moment and I need to get to work. However, I want you to know I wish you the best. I hope you found a way to worry less and look forward to the future more. I hope you found a way to be brave and enjoy traveling alone (in situations where you have to travel alone because no one else is available). I hope you figured out how to connect with other people better, and if you didn’t yet, don’t be too hard on yourself. It would be enough if you just gained more self-knowledge. I hope you are more patient than me, and if you aren’t yet, that’s okay too. I hope you have learned to notice and praise yourself when you do good things. I hope you are beginning to feel that maybe, just maybe, you are allowed to think you actually met your own standards. Maybe you can feel proud of yourself more often. Maybe you can see more good in the world; maybe there are more people in your life who bring value to it. I don’t know how far in the future you are, but if it has been more than 3 or 4 years, I hope you now know the joy of motherhood. I hope you have help and I hope you are able to take breaks and take care of yourself. You deserve that. Maybe you have a good babysitter! I hope so. I know this has been pretty rambling so far, and I apologize. No matter what has or hasn’t happened yet, I wish you the best and I just want you to know that life isn’t over until it is literally over. Until then, anything is possible. Never say never. You may not feel like it in this moment, but you got this, and you will see more and do more and achieve more before the fat lady sings. - Past You

journal prompts: for when you're feeling unmotivated

what makes you feel excited, and why?

reflect on a time you faced a challenge. what did you learn from it?

write about some media (book, movie, song) that has had a big impact on you. why did it make you feel this way?

think of a person or experience that has positively influenced you. how did they/it inspire you?

list three goals you want to achieve before this year ends. how can you take small steps towards them?

describe a time when you discovered something new that sparked your curiosity and inspiration.

write about a challenge you currently face. what can you do to overcome it?

what are some things in nature that inspire you? how do they make you feel, and why?

reflect on a time when you felt super proud of yourself. what did you achieve, and how did it make you feel?

write a letter to your future self. what are some hopes and dreams you have? how can you work towards them?

(images are from pinterest)

[heartsforjh]

I shall break my Quinn strike and ask for my favorite Hughes

Gimme Luke with “i thought you hated when people touch you?” he needs a black cat girlfriend for his golden retriever vibe😔🙏

this one was suspiciously easy for me to write so if it’s actually bad i’m VERY sorry… i knew something was up. 🙏

“Mom! Luke won’t stop making me upset!” your best friend, Jack, calls out.

“Luke, quit messing with your brother!” Ellen says, sorting through old family photos.

“I’m not messing with him! I’m messing with Y/n!” the younger boy whines.

“Your brother and his friend don’t want to play with you right now. You can play with Y/n when Jack has to go back to school,” Ellen explains.

“And he won’t stop touching her, Mom! He knows she doesn’t like it, but he keeps grabbing her hand and pulling her!” Jack continues to snitch.

“Alright, Jack. I’m handling it.”

“Okay, just making sure. Come on, Y/n. We don’t have to play with him,” Jack says, ushering you out of the living room. You feel bad, looking back at Luke as Jack pushes you out of the room without actually putting his hands on you. You give a little wave to Luke before disappearing from sight.

“Are you guys excited to start middle school?” Quinn, the oldest Hughes brother, asks as you and Luke sit at the dinner table.

“Well, I guess I am. I’m kind of nervous because I know it’ll be so different,” you admit before taking a bite of your food.

“It’s a good thing you have Luke! I’m glad the two of you get to start these milestones together!” the boys’ mom says.

“Yeah, Y/n! We have each other! It’s gonna be fun. We can sit next to each other at lunch and everything,” Luke says excitedly. He gets carried away while talking and starts messing with some strands of your hair, which Jack immediately notices.

Jack is quick to slap Luke’s hand away from your hair. “She doesn’t like you touching her! And she doesn’t need you. I already started middle school a year ago. I can tell her everything she needs to know.”

“Fine. I won’t touch her. It was an accident,” Luke says, feeling bad for forgetting again that people touching you makes you uncomfortable.

“How do you accidentally touch someone?! That doesn’t just happen! You—” Jack starts, only to be cut off by his dad stepping in with a stern, “Boys!”

It would be a lie to say that the rest of the dinner was ruined. This happens a lot, and everyone is used to it. Luke gets to talking, becomes excited, and, being a touchy person, accidentally does something to make Jack upset. It repeats like clockwork.

You got in. You really got in! The University of Michigan has accepted you as a student, and you couldn’t be happier. Of course, Luke is going too. You’re not mad about it at all. You expected it and, honestly, you’re glad. While you’re closest with Jack, having Luke complete all the same milestones with you has always been comforting.

You’re at the small party your family and the Hughes family put together to celebrate you and Luke. After finishing a conversation with one of their cousins, you head into the kitchen for a drink. Luke is already there at the counter, grabbing a drink for himself. When he turns around and sees you, he smiles.

“Hey!” he says, his eyes lighting up. You walk over to stand next to him and grab a cup.

“Hey. This is a cool party, right?” you ask, looking up at him and trying to make conversation.

He nods and grabs your favorite tea, pouring it into your cup for you. “Oh for sure. It’s great they did this for us. You ready to go to UMich?”

You smile a little nervously, looking at him. “I mean, I guess. I’m kind of nervous. You’re not?”

“No way! I’ve wanted to go to this school forever. So have you! You should be ecstatic. What’s the matter?” he asks, concerned.

“Well… y’know, it’s gonna be so different,” you confess, the nerves clear in your tone.

“It’s a good thing we’ll have each other, then. I’m not just gonna let you fall on your face, Y/n. I love you too much for that,” he says, his face full of emotion.

For the first time since the whole college mess, you feel relieved. “Really? Thanks, Lukey. I love you too.”

You close the space between the two of you and wrap your arms around his waist, laying your head on his chest. However, Luke freezes.

You frown a little and tilt your head to look up at him, your chin still resting on his chest. “Uh… Y/n? Is this, like… on purpose?” he asks, looking stressed.

You laugh, confused. “What are you talking about?”

“I thought you hated when people touch you?” he says, his voice cracking slightly.

You think about it for a moment before responding. “I suppose I do. But not you.”

“Not me? I get yelled at every time I so much as look at you!” he says, surprised.

You pat his stomach and shake your head. “Lukey, that’s all Jack. Take it up with him. I like you… a lot. I always have.”

“You’ve liked me back this whole time and Jack’s ruined it?!” he asks, shocked.

You smile and nod. “Yeah! To be fair, I don’t think he knew. He just thought you were annoying me.”

“Whatever. He’s not here to ruin it now,” Luke says, wrapping his arms around you and squeezing you tight.

In the next room, Ellen turns to her oldest son, beaming. “It worked!”

Quinn smiles. “I told you they’d figure it out, and all it took was distracting Jack a little.”

tags: @beenucks @lukey-pookie-hughes43 @sweetestdesire @emsdevs @puckmedude @joesnumerouno @alex-wotton @r0wdymaize86

join the taglist here! :)

[captain-huggy-bear]

In The Firing Line

Pairing: Quinn Hughes x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Lil' bit of hurt/comfort, lil' bit of angst, lil' bit of panic

Summary: You break up a fight at your school getting hurt in the process. There's only one person you want to call in that situation.

Notes: I have in fact been punched in the line of duty as a teacher and while it's not common it is truly a scary experience and I very much wish I had a Quinn to pick up the pieces when those things happen.

Another kinda angsty one? I keep putting the reader through some stuff in this series, I promise teaching is not always this eventful...please don't be scared of it <3

Totally happy to take requests/ideas/prompts at the moment in my ask box :)

Writing Masterlist

There are some dangers to your job, hazards you might say...while generally speaking teaching is a safe profession except for your stress levels, the reality is you're dealing with human beings who aren't yet capable of fully regulating their emotions and thinking through their actions. So things happen...like fights...and fights are...unfortunately something you can't just ignore as a teacher. They are in fact something you have to actively deal with.

There's a deep seated desire not to get involved, a sense of self preservation that says don't stand in between two teenage boys who are going at each other. That unfortunately is overridden by two things: 1) The duty of care you have to keep your students safe and stop them hurting themselves or others and 2) Your genuine desire to not see any of your students hurt.

At this point in your career you work off of instinct. The moment Carl throws a punch at Gabriel, while you're in the middle of teaching mind you, you're ushering every other student out of your classroom with directions to find another teacher. That leaves you with 2 teenage boys flipping tables and intent on pummelling each other. Really, you'll later find out the fight is over something silly, Gabriel had talked to the girl that Carl liked, Carl had been told that Gabriel was flirting with her and talking shit about Carl. He wasn't. Later they'll both apologise to you profusely and their sets of parents will come in and apologise to you too, but in that moment? Your only concern is stopping the fight from progressing any further and stopping blood from being spilled.

Perhaps it's misguided, but in your experience getting in the middle works. Often students stop, pulling their punches out of fear of hitting an adult, like a sort of reset button. The fact that you're there usually does the trick. So that's exactly what you do, you wedge your significantly smaller self between two teenage boys who stand well over 6ft tall, one of whom is on the boxing team and the other on basketball team. You think this is a good idea, spoiler alert, it is most certainly not.

You misjudge this, it's almost like slow motion the way that Carl's fist comes towards you, his eyes seeming to widen as he processes that you're now in the way and in the line of fire. You have just enough time and thought to turn your back to him so that he doesn't hit you anywhere soft and vulnerable.

But, fuck does it hurt to have a junior boxing champ throw a solid punch straight at your shoulder blade. You jolt straight into Gabriel who breaks your potential fall and both boys fall dead silent, fight ended as quickly as it had began. Whatever haze of red had come over them completely diffused. All you can hear is a series of swear words followed by the sounds of some of your colleagues coming in to take both boys away.

You're dimly aware of one of the English teachers wrapping an arm around you and carting you down the corridor towards the staff room, of being sat in a comfortable chair and handed a warm drink that you have little desire to sip at.

"I think she's in shock..."

"She can't teach like this, can you talk to Lisa about covering her lessons for the day?"

"Should we phone someone?"

The conversation happening near you is practically underwater, dull sounding. You register it but you don't really hear it, words that go in one ear and out the other like water off a duck's back.

Your gaze fixes on your principle who crouches in front of you with a soft smile, "Y/N, do you want to phone someone? Get them to take you home, we're going to give you the rest of the day off, okay?"

You nod more out of instinct than anything else, you feel like you're underwater or not in your own body. Adrenaline still pulsing through your system, shock having hit you so hard that you don't feel real. You feel floaty, not really present.

When you're left alone, an empty staff room, you reach for your phone. You unlock it on autopilot, find the contact without really thinking and listen to it ring, once, twice before being picked up on the third ring. Reliable and steadfast as always, he never fails to answer the phone to you.

"Hey, baby, you okay?" Quinn's voice is soft, sweet but curious with an undercurrent of worry because you almost never phone him while you're at school. It's that that seems to break you, seems to dissolve the numb shock and bring forth the waterworks.

"No..." You can't help it, you're sobbing in an instant, breathing rapidly as the shock gives way to panic, like Quinn's voice broke the dam that had been holding your emotions in check. "I-I-I..."

"Breathe, baby! Hey, hey, breathe...you're okay, what happened?" You try to follow his instructions, but your breathing is still sharp, short, stunted. Every breath cutting itself off by the next. Each sob interrupting your words and your attempts to get a full breath in.

"Baby, listen to me, okay?" You try to tune into Quinn's voice, the steady stableness of it, the way he tries to keep it as even as possible, "Breathe with me, okay? Breathe in..." You listen to him as he instructs you on how to breathe, breathing in when says and out when he says until your own breathing is back to a point where you can at least talk, still the tears don't disappear.

It's like your body has finally realised it was in danger, like it's finally realised what happened. You're just thankful that the room is empty, that everyone else is teaching right now because you can't help but feel embarrassed as you cry over the phone to your boyfriend over something that feels silly in your mind. It was just a punch and it wasn't even intended for you, you probably won't even bruise....

"What happened, baby?"

"I...I tried t-to break up a fight..." Your shoulder aches now that some of the panic has worn off, right in the shoulder blade. A reminder of the fact you've been punched by a junior boxing champ.

"Are you okay? Did you get hurt?" You can tell he's worried, the stability of his voice disappearing in favour of concern but you stay silent...you don't want to make him worry... "Sweetheart...?"

"I...I got punched in the shoulder...I'm okay...I...I think." You don't want him to worry more than he already has, you know what Quinn is like...if he could wrap you in bubble wrap and keep you with him all the time he would. You know he supports you having your own life, own career, but he also hates you being unsafe in any way. You don't want him to worry especially when he's not around, the idea that he might worry when he's away on a roadie kills you inside.

"Has anyone had a look at you?"

"No...they want me to go home though..." Not like you have a proper nurse in school anyway, besides, you're certain you're just going to ache. You doubt there's any lasting damage.

"Okay, okay, give me 20 minutes? I'll get Petey to drop me off and I'll drive you home."

"You don't have to, Quinn..." You don't like feeling like a burden and that's how you feel right now. Quinn shouldn't be spending his day off picking you up from work and looking after you. He should be relaxing, enjoying the little free time he gets between games and practices, resting his own injuries like his hand that's still braced.

"Baby, respectfully, shut up. I'm going to get you, you aren't driving home, and we're going to spend the afternoon cuddling, okay?" You can't help but smile, wiping some of the tears that have tracked over your cheeks away, the salty taste on your tongue from where a few drops had hit your mouth.

"Okay...I love you."

"I love you too. Get your stuff ready and stop feeling like a burden. You're not. I love you, so I want to help you." You can't help but huff out a laugh at him calling you out for the thoughts you don't voice, because of course Quinn would know what you were thinking, of course he'd know you were feeling like a burden already.

"You know me too well." You roll your eyes, easing yourself up from the seat you'd been placed in earlier and making your way to the door knowing you need to venture to your room to grab your things. A little bit anxious about it, but knowing the students in question were likely already in isolation or the principle's office or been sent home after everything. Even though you know without a doubt Carl and Gabriel never intended for you to get hurt.

"That's my job, sweetheart."

"We've had this discussion before, your job is to hit a piece of vulcanised rubber around on the ice." Quinn's pretty certain you sassing him is a good sign that you're getting over the shock of being punched on the job, a good enough sign that he can't stop the laugh that comes out because at least you're okay.

"That's my paying job, not my proper job. My proper job is to look after you, baby."

"Mmm, do you want an ID badge for that?" Your classroom is empty when you get to it, students having been taken somewhere else for the period, most likely to the gym. It makes it easier for you to start grabbing your things without a million and one eyes on you.

"Yes please, and a lanyard."

"I'll get that printed for you right away," You're putting your work laptop away, grabbing your water bottle, phone balanced between your ear and your shoulder. Quinn finding away to calm you without even being in the room was something you were thankful for, while that well of anxiety still sat deep in your chest, you felt at least functional in that moment. More functional than when it first happened at least.

There's a beat of silence, where Quinn is unsure if he actually wants to come off the phone. Hearing you reassures him you're okay, not perfect, but okay...but he knows that to get Petey to pick him up he needs to actually say goodbye to you. A dilemma if he ever saw one.

"I'll see you soon?"

"See you soon...thank you, Quinny," You mean it, you always mean it. For a man who is so busy, so stressed all the time, he truly never failed to be there for you. You never thought twice about phoning him because you knew he'd pick up, knew he'd help no matter the situation, even if he wasn't around he'd find someone who could help. It was his reliability that always had you reaching for his number, even when past boyfriends had been last person you might have called. Quinn was always steady, always there, always on hand.

"Anytime, baby."

You're waiting in the car park when Petey's car drives up next to you, the window rolled down for the blonde man to give you a sympathetic smile.

"Hey, Petey..." You give him your best attempt at a smile but you know it's a weak one, his features scrunching in sympathy. You can see Quinn in the passenger seat, hoodie on, beanie over his hair.

"Hey, Y/N, you okay?"

"I will be..." You answer as Quinn gets out of Petey's car, your smile starting to turn more genuine when Petey throws a bar of chocolate at you out the window. Not even just any chocolate, but the good stuff, European chocolate.

"Feel better soon, okay?"

"Thank you, Petey." You stand back as Quinn thanks Elias for the ride, tapping on the roof of the car as a sign it's okay for him to leave and you grasp the bar of chocolate tightly, feeling emotional over the thoughtful gesture.

That emotion spills over with one look from Quinn, tears starting to silently stream down your face as he pulls you into his warm arms. You feel so utterly safe the moment he does, your face pressing into his hoodie and just breathing in the scent of his cologne, the sea salt smell of his old spice deodorant. He practically traps you in his arms, trying to give you a sense of security and safety by wrapping you up tight, one hand coming to comb through the ends of your hair, the other stroking down your back in slow motions.

Quinn presses a kiss to your hair as he rocks you side to side, feeling the way your body shakes in his arms, the residual adrenaline left over from the whole affair coursing through your body. He knows better than most how your body responds after taking a hit, he's felt it time and time again on the ice, but the adrenaline usually gets worn off in play for him. For you? This is unfamiliar territory, unexpected and with no way to get all that adrenaline rush out of your system.

"I've got you, sweet girl...let it out, you're okay..." If there's one thing Quinn will always do, has always done, it's make sure you understand you can rely on him. That you don't need to hold back any of the ugly parts, the difficult parts, the raw parts, out of fear of being a burden. He doesn't care that his day is being spent stood in a school parking lot holding you while you cry, in fact he prefers it to the alternative, you pretending nothing happened, not telling him, crying on your own somewhere...

"Wanna go home, baby?" You nod into his chest, arms so tight around his waist that he almost worries he might not be able to breathe if you just squeeze a tad tighter. "Keys in your pocket?" You nod again and he slips his hand into your pocket, then the other one, fishing out your car keys.

The walk to your car is hindered by your refusal to come out from your spot hiding in his chest, you walk backwards while he walks forward. A strange sort of dance that shows just how much you trust him not to let you fall over.

It's obvious when he gets you to your car that you don't want to let go of him, that you feel safe surrounded by him in every sense of the word. Surrounded by his arms, surrounded by his hoodie, by his scent. But, Quinn is good at compromise, at finding solutions to problems, seeing the gaps in the defence and making a solid play.

"You want to wear my hoodie for the ride?" Your nod is all he gets and he's quick to strip himself of the oversized hoodie, pulling it over the top of your head and helping you work your arms into it. It's large on him and large on you, sleeves long enough to cover your hands, fabric billowing in a way that makes him think he could probably slip in there with you if he tried hard enough. He helps you pull the hood up and over your head, watching as you burying your face into the neck, breathing in the familiar smell of his cologne.

It's like hugging him when you can't and it helps you feel that comfort still when he can't hold you because he has to drive. You still feel surrounded by him, his body heat having infused the fabric, his scent in the cotton, the sheer size of the hoodie comforting you. It brings you security that you need right now.

"Better, baby?"

"Mmhm." You hum from within the hood, eyes wide and soft and it makes Quinn's heart ache a little to see you like this, so withdrawn, so needy because of something that shouldn't have happened in the first place. There's part of Quinn that wants you to stop working altogether, wants to just pay for you to put your feet up, relax and enjoy your hobbies but he knows you love your job despite the issues. He knows he could no more ask that of you than you could ask him to stop playing hockey because of the dangers associated with his career.

"Okay, let's get you home, yeah? Then I'm going to check you for a bruise, okay?"

Quinn's gentle with you as he opens the car door and helps you in, doing your seatbelt up for you and making sure you're as comfortable as possible for the ride. Your music plays the moment he starts the engine and you smile just a little when you watch him have to adjust the driver's seat, complaining that your legs are far too short.

That smile eases some of his worry but you can see his concern in the way his fingers alternate between tapping the steering wheel and gripping it tight between his palms, tight enough that his knuckles go white each time. Every now and then he reassures himself that you're okay by reaching a hand out for your thigh, palm squeezing the plush flesh once, twice, before returning back to the steering wheel.

You don't say much on the way into the apartment, just let him reach his hand back for yours, gripping it tightly with your smaller hand and letting him guide you through the apartment building hallways and through your front door. You let him guide you all the way to the bathroom until he has you in front of him under the bright florescent lights. Quinn's large palms run up and down the tops of your arms in gentle strokes as you peer at him from beneath his hood, still buried deep, breathing in his familiar smell.

"Let's take a look at you, baby, okay?" You nod and help him as he lifts the hoodie up and over your head, turning you around until your back is facing him. It's intimate but rather clinical, not the sort of undressing you might usually experience with Quinn and you appreciate that. You appreciate that he can see you undressed for practical reasons, genuine reasons without making it sexual or strange, you appreciate that Quinn's concern right now is making sure you're okay not the fact he can see your bra.

You can feel his hands glide over the skin of your back and shoulders, assessing, the careful way he looks you over as if a single touch might cause you more unnecessary pain.

"Has it bruised?" Your voice is rough from the crying and the period of silence you'd entered into and Quinn takes it as a good sign that you're starting to talk to him again.

"Yeah, baby, practically black and blue...the kid a boxing champ or something?" He means it as a joke, but the irony is that he's not wrong.

"Yeah, he was actually..."

"Shit, baby...stay here, 'm going to get some ice and paracetamol for that bruise, okay?" You let him go but the moment he's gone you're looking in the mirror, twisting your head round as far as possible to see what the damage it.

Quinn's not wrong, you're legitimately black and blue, your shoulder has a nice fist sized bruise that is already turning various shades of blue and purple, blood pooling under the skin. It explains why each roll of your shoulder aches like nothing else.

"Here, baby," Quinn returns to the bathroom with a tea towel filled with ice, pressing it against the bruise and holding it there. It's cold, uncomfortably so, causing you to hiss.

"s cold..." you mumble frowning at him in the mirror and Quinn gives you a sympathetic look and a quick, commiserating kiss to the top of your shoulder.

"I know, but it'll bring the swelling down, just a few minutes for me, baby?"

"Okay...a few minutes" You agree watching him tend to you in the mirror, downing the paracetamol he brought back for you from the first aid drawer he keeps in the kitchen. Quinn's attentive, even as he holds the ice filled towel to your skin he checks every now and then that he's not giving you freezer burn, that it's helping reduce the swelling and not actually hurting you more.

"Atta, girl," Quinn's free hand cups the back of your neck, thumb rubbing back and forth soothingly, every now and then digging in to a sore spot to distract you from the uncomfortable cold sensation against your shoulder blade.

"Can we cuddle now?" You're patient for the first few minutes but that starts to wain as the cold becomes almost painful against your skin.

"Yeah, sweet girl, we can cuddle now...think you've earned it," Quinn throws the melting ice into the bathroom sink, hand trailing down to grip yours to tug you back to the bedroom.

He helps you change into comfy clothes before tugging you down into the bedcovers with him. You breathe a sigh of relief as you curl into his side, face pressed into the warm crook of his neck, leg slung over his waist. Quinn rests a hand on your thigh, pulling your leg tighter against him while his other hand finds its way into your hair, scratching gently across your scalp.

"You tired, baby?" You can't help but close your eyes at the way Quinn's fingers curl in your hair and run through each strand, burrowing as deep into his neck as you can as he pulls the covers up and over the top of the two of you to create a cosy little nest of warmth.

"Yeah...really tired..."

"Eventful day, huh?" You nod into his neck in agreement, feeling like your body has been through the mental and emotional wringer. There's the physical discomfort of being punched obviously, but the bigger issue is how emotionally exhausted you feel. Your nervous system having been put through fight or flight, only to have to come crashing down from that adrenaline high.

"You can sleep, baby, it's okay, I'll be here when you wake up..."

"You promise?"

"I promise, 'm not going anywhere." It's his reassurance, the firm but gentle hold on you that helps you fall asleep because you trust him, you believe him. You know that if Quinn says he'll be there when you wake up, then he'll be there.

[evelyns-envy]

Hi, I really liked your account <3. Could you make a hc of Daisuke with the reader being Swansea's daughter? But I understand if you don't want to :>

(sorry if the writing is bad, English is not my first language and I used the translator ಥ_ಥ)

YES YES I WILL HAPPILY WRITE THAT (your english is better than mine and english is my first language lmfao.)! this is such a cool idea though and i never even thought of it. this is my first req ever im so excited tysm!!

✎ "but daddy i love him!" (i'm havin' his baby, NO IM NOT but you should see your faces ;)) -taylor swift

warnings! - SMUT HCS + SFW!, vibrator, pegging, reader being swanseas daughter and getting w daisuke, MY FIRST REQ GUYS BE SO PROUD, evelyn is freaky 😼

SFW!!

oh jesus this is certainly a concept

you're there for almost the same reason daisuke is, for in internship.

however... daisuke is there since his parents are rich asf and paid for him to go, you're there because you've been rejected from your dream job and went into a depression due to it.

swansea knew he wouldn't let his daughter suffer, so he asked if you could been an intern on the ship for Anya.

the Pony Express executives were hesitant at first, but caved when Swansea offered for them to renew his contract for longer.

your first day aboard, you make fast friends with Anya and faster friends with Daisuke.

you ended up having to share a room with daisuke, in bunk beds.

a flirty/silly argument about who got top bunk, ending with daisuke going “what if we just share?”

he knew damn well

taking advantage of your stunned face and mind, he jumped up on the top bunk and stuck his tongue out at you.

”i was just joking, mini mechanic.”

100% calls you mini mechanic for the rest of the time on the ship even though technically HES the mini mechanic but wtv let him have his fun

is actually so glad you’re relatively the same age as him, and was really excited to be able to talk w you about younger and occasionally inappropriate stuff

UNTILL he found out you’re his boss’s daughter..!

tries to keep the dirty jokes to a minimum, but fails miserably

it was always pretty obvious that he had a thing for you, even before yall got together

would be asking swansea abt you 24-7 and your hobbies and favorite things only to be met with “stay away from my daughter, juarez.”

is now 10x more scared

and you’re also 10x more attractive to him since he knows he can’t have you

intentionally gets his finger jammed in something while helping your dad so he can go to medbay and see you

once you’re about a month into the trip, you two have regular staying up late and YAPPING sessions in your room

he’ll occasionally come down from his bunk and sit on the floor next to your bed if the topic is deeper, until you notice he looks uncomfortable on the metal floor and tell him to come sit on the bed

anddd thats how babies are made folks! the end!

nah jk anyways you two talk until the early hours of the artificial ‘morning’ on the ship

when yall finally run out of things to talk about, you realize he’s laying next to you and you’re laying on his arm

oh nooo how did that happen (fuck already damn)

“comfy there?”

”shut up.”

”make me, mini mechanic.”

”now is not the time to bring up my father, dai.”

you playing w his hair and growing to understand how much he loves when you do that

eventually falling asleep in each others arms

you cannot tell me this mf isn’t SO comfy to sleep on be so fr

waking up to YOUR DAD 🤗 banging on the door demanding that daisuke get up and come help him fix smth in the storage

getting jump scared and shaking dai awake bc bro is knocked out and snoring

him opening the door and yall having to act like you weren’t wrapped in each others arms, entirely consumed in the other

holy shit that was fuckin poetic

awkwardly waving bye to him, both of you having a knowing smile tugging at your lips

he eventually asks you out, VERY awkwardly and in the middle of one of the routine late night talks

you accept happily (no shit)

doing basically everything together

always bringing dai along when you’re in front of your dad js for funsies and to piss him off a little

even while swansea doesn’t seem like he approves of the relationship, he secretly loves how sweet and gentle daisuke is to you

+ his parents are rich so you’re set!!

always telling Anya you need to go ask your dad something when really you js wanna see your pretty boyfriend

you both love each other so fucking much it’s insane. and getting your dad to approve is next level

NSFW….!! (watch out 😛😼 ‘ya girl evelyn is a wee bit freaky)

if you’re a little bolder, you definitely jerk dai off under the workbench where both he AND YOUR FATHER are working (this hc isn’t mine i saw it somewhere else on tumblr btw i js love it sm)

ok listen. dai is a sub at heart, but a bratty sub.

tries to talk back to you? his ass is getting bent over the nearest surface and fucked stupid by your strap (it’s always close by 😼)

also jacking him off while another crew mate is nearby, one i think would be good is curly’s bday celebration. jacking dai off as he’s trying so hard to focus on making the cake while all you can focus on is his slutty noises spilling uncontrollably from his mouth.

going down on him while he’s talking abt his usual unluckiness when trying to find a girl to truly love him, and now js his money. slowly unzipping his jeans while he keeps ranting, breath slightly jagged now.

“they alway-.. (y/n)? uh- what are y- mhmmm. never mind. feels good.”

he says as you gently tug his pants down, letting him fall around his ankles as you look up at him w those fucking eyes. shit. he’s a goner.

leaning back against whatever wall you undoubtedly have him pushed against, head thrown back as his trimmed nails run through you hair, egging you on.

you’re totally in swansea’s office change my fucking mind and he’s sitting on your dad’s desk 😋

“don’t mess up any papers, pretty. don’t want my father finding out you were gettin’ all ruined by his daughter on his desk, now do you?”

“n-no.. don’t mm- don’t want that.”

“then keep quiet and be good.”

he’s so fuckin freaky he’s defo an exhibitionist

you’re a girl- so you obviously brought a vibrator be SO fr w me rn

you definitely press it against his tip while slowly licking up the base

he is SO vocal that you have to tie his hawaiian shirt around his mouth so that he won’t YELL

gets cum on an important paper and yall have to throw it away lmfao

swansea being confused as shit abt where the document went and has been searching the Tulpar and asking all the crewmates if they’ve seen it

oopsies…

[heliosunny]

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE MEAL 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻 i hope yew write more yan!phainon x reader fics in the future

Yandere! Elf Phainon x Reader

Art credit: CH203r on X Do not use this art without permission!

You are a bounty hunter in need of money, so you take on various requests. Somehow you accidentally kidnap the wrong target, but instead of being angry, he seems intrigued by you.

The job was supposed to be simple. A quick bounty, a bag of gold, and maybe a hot meal at the end of the day. But as you stared at the man bound before you, his calm expression unsettling against the flickering campfire, you had the nagging feeling that something was terribly wrong.

"What do you mean you are not Kevin? Look at this description, you're definitely him." You shoved the crumpled wanted poster in his face, pointing at the sketch of a white-haired man with sharp features.

He tilted his head slightly, amusement flickering in his blue eyes. "Miss…"

"Y/n L/n."

"Y/n."

"Don’t address me so casually! Answer me!"

"You see…" He gestured toward his pointed ears. "This man right here is a human being. While I’m…an elf"

Your eye twitched. Dammit. This was bad. You had wasted days tracking down this guy, only to end up with the wrong target. And now, with barely any coin left, you were in serious trouble.

As if to make matters worse, your stomach chose that moment to let out a humiliating growl.

Phainon chuckled softly. "I have an idea. How about I take you to a place full of treasure?"

Your eyes narrowed. "Why would you help me?"

His smile deepened. "Because, dear hunter, you intrigue me."

You should have known better.

Despite being an experienced bounty hunter, you found yourself struggling to keep up with Phainon as you ventured deeper into the dungeon. The elf moved effortlessly through the ruins, his magic lighting the way, effortlessly dispatching the creatures that lurked in the shadows. Meanwhile, your stamina drained at an alarming rate, your sword heavy in your grip.

"Try to keep up." he said over his shoulder, his smirk teasing.

You scowled. "You could at least pretend to struggle."

"If I did, would you feel better?"

Before you could retort, the air shifted. A dark presence loomed from within the cavern, the final challenge of the dungeon making itself known. A monstrous creature, wreathed in shadows, launched itself toward Phainon. Instinct kicked in before you could think. You threw yourself in front of him, taking the brunt of the attack.

Pain lanced through your body as you collapsed to one knee, struggling to stay upright.

"Cover your eyes" Phainon ordered, his voice uncharacteristically firm.

You barely had the strength to obey before a deafening boom erupted around you. A rush of magic swirled, and suddenly, you were no longer in the dungeon.

Instead, you found yourself in a quiet clearing, bathed in moonlight.

You blinked in confusion, your legs unsteady as Phainon steadied you with a firm grip.

"Where are all the gold you promised?" you demanded, gripping his sleeve.

"Oh, that?" He tilted his head, feigning innocence. "I forgot."

Your eye twitched. "You-"

"But instead…" He leaned in closer, his lips brushing your ear. "I’ll treat you to a meal."

There was something unnerving about the way he said it, something ..possessive in the way he held onto you. Your instincts screamed at you to pull away, but you couldn’t. You were exhausted, and despite everything, the warmth of his touch was oddly comforting.

Maybe… just for tonight, you’d let your guard down.

You woke up earlier than him, the fire reduced to embers. The peaceful rise and fall of his chest was a stark contrast to the brutal elf you had seen in battle. He looked... human, in a way that made your heart twist. Without thinking, you brushed your fingers through his short white hair, a soothing gesture you weren’t sure was meant for him or yourself.

With quiet steps, you packed up your things and slipped away for another bounty hunt.

Phainon woke up moments after you left, feeling strangely refreshed, an unfamiliar clarity settling in his mind. He had never slept so well before. Something about you soothed him, and he needed to know why.

Later that day, he stood at an information booth, gathering any details he could about you. The thought of your absence sent an unshakable emptiness through him. He needed to find you.

Meanwhile, your bounty hunt led you to a hidden dungeon, one far more treacherous than you expected. Your body ached, your movements sluggish as you struggled against relentless monsters. Just when you thought your strength had run dry, a monstrous foe loomed over you, ready to strike the final blow.

A single, devastating strike obliterated the creature before it could touch you.

Phainon stood before you, bathed in a strange aura, his presence suffocating. His normally cool blue eyes glowed with something dark and unreadable.

"Even godlike creatures can bleed huh..." he murmured, voice like a whisper of death.

You stared, shaken by the raw brutality in his movements. This was no ordinary elf.

"What… are you?" you rasped, your wounds stinging.

He smiled, sharp and knowing. "You bring me peace. I wanted to test that."

Your heart pounded as realization dawned. You were an experiment to him.

Despite your fear, you reached into your pouch, pulling out a small vial of temporary medicine. "Drink this" you ordered, tossing it to him. "We’ll talk after you stop looking like a vengeful god."

To your relief, he complied, downing the liquid in one swift motion. As his aura dimmed, you grabbed his wrist, dragging him along despite your own injuries.

"Come on" you muttered. "You saved me. Now let’s get out of here before you go berserk again."

Later that night, after patching up your wounds and sharing a proper meal, you finally had a real conversation. Phainon was still his usual smug self, but for once, he wasn’t avoiding direct questions. Despite that, when you firmly refused to let him follow you as a partner, his expression darkened.

"You’re better off without me tagging along" you said. "Go find your own adventure."

Phainon smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. "If that’s what you want."

You should have known better.

Even as you continued your travels, it was obvious someone was tailing you. As a hunter, you were attuned to being watched. Coins mysteriously appeared in your belongings. Pathways that should have been riddled with monsters were eerily clear. Every time you set up camp, you had the sense that someone had passed through before you. You ignored it, pretending not to notice.

Then one evening, you found him curled up near your campsite, face pale, breath labored.

You cursed under your breath. "You’re faking it."

Phainon groaned weakly. "Am I?" His eyes fluttered shut dramatically.

You sighed, dragging him closer to the fire. "Fine. Just for tonight."

As you tended to him, you finally asked "What’s your deal, really?"

Phainon smirked faintly, his voice softer than usual. "That depends. What do you want to know?"

He spoke in riddles, half-answering, half-evading. The past he revealed was fragmented, a puzzle missing its most vital pieces. He let slip details about powerful magic, about a home long abandoned, but when pressed for more, he simply smiled and changed the subject.

You should have been frustrated. But somehow, against your better judgment, you found yourself listening intently, watching the way the firelight reflected in his blue eyes.

For just one night, you allowed yourself to be curious.

Days passed, and despite your efforts to shake him off, Phainon continued his silent pursuit. You should have been annoyed, but a small part of you had grown used to his presence.

Then came the dragon.

An SSS-ranked beast, towering and relentless. Despite your skill, you were outmatched, forced to retreat as it bore down upon you. A sharp pain burned against your wrist, and in the chaos, you heard Phainon's voice.

"Now, call upon it!"

You didn’t understand, until your body moved on its own. A sigil, glowing and intricate, flared to life on your skin. Magic you had never wielded before surged through you, your blade carving through the dragon with inhuman precision. In mere moments, the once-impossible battle was over.

Panting, you turned to Phainon, who looked far too satisfied. "What… what did you do?!"

He approached, smirking. "Oh, nothing much. Just a little contract magic. You’re my partner now."

Horror settled in your chest. "You tricked me."

He tilted his head playfully. "You activated it yourself. That makes it binding."

You clenched your fists, resisting the urge to strangle him. Whatever this was, you needed to figure out how to break it.

Later that night, as Phainon slept soundly, you saw your chance. Quietly, you slipped away from the camp, making your way to the nearest information booth. Your heart pounded as you inquired about the strange sigil now marking your skin and about Phainon himself.

The answers you received chilled you to the core.

Whispers of ancient magic, forbidden contracts, and a bloodstained past surrounded his name. The sigil you bore was no ordinary mark, it was a binding far more dangerous than you had realized.

Before you could process it fully, a shadow loomed over you.

"I was hoping you'd trust me more than this" Phainon's voice was deceptively soft, yet his presence was suffocating. "Did you find what you were looking for?"

Desperation clawed at your throat. Your fingers twitched toward your weapon, but you knew it was useless. Instead, you took a slow breath and did the only thing that came to mind.

You pulled out your dagger and pressed the tip against your own skin. "Don't come any closer. I'll-"

Phainon's expression changed instantly. His amusement vanished, replaced by something raw, something you didn’t expect.

"DON'T" he said, his voice unusually strained. "You can hurt me, but don’t do that to yourself."

You hesitated. The way he said it like he had seen this before, like he had lived through it, unsettled you more than his usual antics. There was something haunted in his eyes, something broken beneath his smirk.

Still, he didn’t remove the sigil. Instead, he took a slow step forward, hands raised as if approaching a wounded animal. "Listen to me, Y/n. I can't undo it. Not yet. But I can make you accept it."

His voice was gentle, persuasive. He didn't plead, didn't force, but something in his tone wormed its way under your skin. Because despite everything, despite the lies and the trickery, you realized something terrifying.

You did feel calmer around him. Your presence soothed his mind, but was it possible that his presence had started to soothe yours, too?

You swallowed hard, lowering the dagger just slightly. "How?"

He smiled, not victorious, but relieved. "Let me show you."

He reached out slowly, his touch feather light as his fingers brushed against your wrist, just above the glowing sigil. Warmth seeped through your skin, not just from his magic, but from the steady reassurance in his gaze. "You're not alone in this, Y/n. I understand your fear. But this bond.. it's not a prison. It's protection."

You wanted to argue, to pull away, but something about the way he spoke made your resolve waver. The exhaustion from fighting, from running, from resisting, it all weighed heavily on your shoulders. Would it be so bad to surrender, just a little?

He stepped closer, his presence wrapping around you like an unseen force. "You’ve been alone for so long, haven’t you? Always fighting, always struggling. You don’t have to do that anymore. With me, you’ll never have to be alone again."

He was right. You had spent your life surviving, but never truly living. The warmth in his voice, the certainty in his promise, it was tempting.

Phainon tilted his head, watching you with a knowing smile. "Say it. Accept it. You already feel it, don’t you? The connection between us."

The words came unbidden, barely a whisper. "I... accept it."

The sigil flared brightly for a brief moment before settling, the magic no longer a foreign force but something familiar, something… comforting. A sense of belonging, of purpose, filled the void you had ignored for so long.

Phainon exhaled softly, his smile deepening as he cupped your cheek. "Good. Now, let’s go home."

[gay-dorito-dust]

Idk if your requests are open, but if they are, can you do batboys when the reader has a flu or something like that??🙏

My requests are open! But I would some fun, fluff stuff as I’ve been going through some personal stuff that have been affecting my focus and other things, leaving me a little more less then eager to do much of anything really. I’ll try to keep writing but i can only guarantee so much.

Dick is probably patting your back with a broom from another room

kidding! Dick would be very attentive and sweet when you have the flu as he would have everything you need in bulk and smother you beneath several thick blankets, tightly tucked and everything to the point you couldn’t even move a pinky, much to his amusement.

Hayley also acts as a massive help in your recovery or should we say nurse Hayley as dick would have the poor dog dress up for the bit…only for Hayley to grow bored and take her outfit off, all the while Dick becomes dramatic at how his loyal nurse has just up and quit on the job because she wasn’t get any treat treats for her service.

It was high entertainment for you as you’d watch Hayley come back into the room and tuck herself next to you on the bed, whining for your attention as she exposes her belly towards you, and who were you to ignore the cutie? You give her the belly rubs she deserves for putting up with Dick and his antics.

Other then giving you what you wanted (Hayley) dick would make sure to take care of you, going so far as to even tell you a story of his brothers to help you sleep if you couldn’t find it within yourself to do so. Dick is more than happy to risk getting sick just to cuddle you and give you a plethora of kisses, why? Apparently he couldn’t help but give you affection when you looked like a wet puppy. So when you tell him that he shouldn’t be surprised when he becomes sick himself, he only laughs and says that his immune system was good enough to prevent himself from getting sick easily, however he does indeed get sick the next day and acts surprised by it too.

‘I told you not to cuddle me, you’d get sick.’ You tell him through chuckles.

‘And leave you without knowing my love? No way, if anything it was worth the risk.’ He replies as he smiles at you before covering his mouth to cough, making you sigh sympathetically. ‘You’ll be okay.’ You reassured him as you rubbed his back soothingly, ‘I’ll even bring nurse Hayley to help bring you back to full health.’ You add.

Damian is far more stern with you when you get ill. There’s no excuses when it comes to avoiding your medication because Damian will find a way to slip the medicine into your system regardless. Seriously he’ll sneak it into your food when you’re not looking for he didn’t want your stubbornness towards the weird tasting medicine to hinder your recovery process, finding this seemingly childish reaction of yours rather ridiculous.

He often ponders whether you wanted to get better or not with how often you seemed to rebuke the medicine he gave, but he was only doing this for your own good and that was a good enough drive for him to taking care of you to full health once more.

Yet while he might have some grievances of taking care of you, he didn’t mind the idea of being your caretaker as it meant getting to be soft with you, as if he wasn’t already but the fact that you were sick only made Damian treat you more like porcelain. He would even have Titus, Ace and Alfred the cat to keep you company when he knew you were feeling a little down from time to time just to see you smile again when the dogs licked your face, whereas Alfred would be purring contently in your lap.

He knew being sick was your idea and he would always remind you that he wasn’t upset at you for it, but he just hopes that this acts as a lesson to be more carful in the future, all the while coming up with some drawing activities with you to pass the time; which ends up being a ton of fun and an absolute laugh when you see Damian genuinely try to be bad a drawing but only for it to come out better then most of the things you produced.

Jason is another one who’s rather strict about taking care of you, much like how he would be rather straightforward and blunt when you needed to eat, Jason wouldn’t let you move a single finger when you were found to be sick with the flu.

Wear all the hoodies of his that you can get your hands on, he doesn’t mind as long as it would keep you warm and comfortable, because until the day you were better he was going to wait on you hand and foot by giving you the needed medication or brining in food and water throughout the day.

Jason didn’t care what he had to do because as long as he could take care of you to the best of his abilities then that was more then enough for him, he’d even take some time away from patrol as he didn’t feel comfortable leaving you within your shared home when you were in a vulnerable state.

Thankfully Gotham wasn’t in as much need for him when his brothers Dick, Tim, Duke and Damian were overseeing the city in his absence, it helped take his mind off of that aspect while he was taking care of you by frequently checking your body temperature or make you soup, and or being there to comfort you should you feel the need to empty your stomach. Jason could fully bring his attention to you like he should and you needn’t worry about waking him up early in the morning, or even late at night because Jason was more then willing to get whatever it was you needed without compliant.

[angelluv16]

Lose something good, Win something Great

-------------------------✩-------------------------

✩ : You broke things off with your long-term Boyfriend due to Emotional and verbal abuse. You did what any Singer-songwriter would do, write a song. Thanks to that one song You met the one and only Lando Norris

faceclaim: Maddison beer

pairing . . . lando norris x singer!reader

request . . . no!!

warnings . . . none If their is let me know

-------------------------✩-------------------------

69,654 likes

TMZ: ynuser and joshrichards were seen having a heated argument outside of a restaurant? y/n was seen in tears as Josh Left. Is there trouble in paradise?

View all 7,710 comments

username43: I will beat his ass for hurting my girl

username44: I'm with you

username45: Count me in too

username46: I bet she cheated

username47: go eat rocks No one asked for your unwanted Opinion

username48: Okay But Like Where tf is their Privacy like I know if I were them I wouldn't want to see this the next morning like wtf

username49: rightt ugh poor girl

username50: And what about josh she probably caused this.

username51: I don't give two shits about him he caused my girl to cry he can eat shit

username52: Who is she???

username53: only one of the greatest singers rn and one of the most underrated singer ever

username54: I know I shouldn't but NEW MUSIC NEW MUSIC

username55: Bad timing but I agree

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

ynuser hasn't posted in 5 months

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

ynuser has added to their story

[caption 1: In the Studio!!] [caption 2:🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍 ]

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

ynuser

Liked by lando, addisonrae,gracieabrams and 877,168 others

ynuser: My New Song "Good In goodbye" Is Out on all platforms

View all 11,909 comments

username56: Girl wtf no warning no nothing?!?!?!

username57: We should know by now she did that with her last album

username58: this song omfg.

username59: lando??? What are you doing here

lando: The same as you 😁

lando: such a banger

username60: hahah Not lando shooting his shot

username61: Okay but they would make such a cute couple like

username62: "I would take a bullet for you just to prove my love Only to find out you are the one holding the gun" Has me sobbing my girl was in love

username63: "I'm just tryna get focus Take some time for me People started to notice all the shit you couldn't see" Like?????? Girl we've been noticing.

username64: This song is going to be her Expresso I just know it

username65: Me and my delulu are agreeing with you

username66: Same this world doesn't know what good music is anymore 😪

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

lando has added to their story

(let's pretend it doesn't say madison beer)

[caption 1: On repeat ! @ ynuser]

replies:

ynuser: Awww thank you. Glad you liked it 🥰

lando: wow okay u replied. I don't like it I love it. You did amazing as always

carlossainz55: Mate pls she's not going to notice you

lando well well well

oscarpiastri: Damn it are we going to have to listen to this every day in the garage now?

lando: You know it mate

username67: wait this is so cute he's supporting

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

lando

Liked by ynuser,carlossainz55,maxfewtrell,oscarpiastri and 891,472 others

lando: Only playing ynuser

View all 12,670 comments

ynuser: Thank you for the free promo

lando: I'll give you all the free promo you want

username68: okayyy shotting his shot

username69: are they.... are they flirting ?????

carlossainz55: You finally got her to notice you 🥳🥳

lando: shut up

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

ynuser

{caption 1: the view!} {caption 2: The fit is fitting}

replies:

username70: Wait what?

username71: were are you going??

username72: Pls pls pls be a grand prix

mclaren: See you soon !!

ynuser: Can't wait !!

username73: Gorgeous

username74: I want this fit

username75: Were are you tf???

username76: You look so cutee!!

lando: Looking beautiful 💕

ynuser:💕💕 Thank you lan

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

Liked by ynuser, carlossainz55, oscarpiastri, lando and 1,081,828 others

f1: Just arrived: The Great ynuser Just arrived to the Miami Grand prix.

View all 8,325 comments

username77: She looks so good

username78: ew what is she doing there

username79: right can we actually give the chance to a real f1 fan to attend not these influencers who pretend to like it

username80: hate to break your little bubble of hatred but yn has been an f1 fan since a kid her dad was a huge fan and even took her to races when she was a kid but she stopped going when her dad sadly passed. I'm glad she's attending she hasn't been to one since 2018.

ynuser: Mom I made it! And dad He's proud of me for making the f1 page

username81: Oh girl he's the proudest

username82: girlll

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

Liked by lando, oliviarodrigo, alexandrasaintmleux and 891,472 others

ynuser: P1 BABY!!! So proud. So Happy I could be there to see you win your first grand prix this year.

View all 12,480 comments

lando: I won because my lucky charm was with me (you)

ynuser: No, You won because you are the best

username83: This is so cute

username84: THEY MET I REPEAT THEY MET

username85: I KNOW LIKE HOW CUTE IS THAT PHOTO HE'S ALL SMILEY!!!!

username85: The photo?? y/n you should be a Photoghrapher

ynuser: hehe I wish. I did do it when I was a kid from middle school to high school (while I was doing singing) so that's why I'm so good.

username86: I love how this post is only Lando.

username87: So Now you've met now date 😁

username88: ugh she better get away from lando he's too good for her

username89: Lando make her drop an album pls.

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

Liked by lando, alexandrasaintmleux, charlesleclerc and 2,377,677 others

ynuser: Life Support is out now !! This album helped me say the feelings I couldn't say out loud. And Because you guys loved Good In goodbye so much... The music video is out now !! Thank you so mich for all the love this past year.

View all 17,809 comments

lando: 🧡🧡🧡

ynuser: 🖤🖤🖤

username90: the hearts what???

username91: Ahhh It's happening stay calm

username92: Holy shit !!! A whole ass Album

username93: Okay But can we just talk about the Good in Goodbye music video what the actual fuck

username94: Right, My girl can sing, Do Photography, and now Act ugh to be her

username95: The album is sooo good like Selfish omg I want lando to run over J*sh with his car

♥︎ by lando

username96: hahah Lando We see you

username97: he's not even trying to hide his hatred for J*sh

username98: We love ourselves a man who supports their gf or crush whichever is fine.

♥︎ by lando, ynuser

username99: Ugh This album is and forever will be on repeat

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

ynuser

{caption 1: were matching}

replies:

lando: Ohh Are we soft launching now?

ynuser: yesss

username100: Who is this???

username101: Girllll this better be lando or I'm going to ur house and taking his ass out. All love

username102: pls be lando

alexandrasaintmleux: This is so cute

ynuser: he didn't want to match with me at first

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

lando

{caption 1: she thinks she's a better driver🙄}

repiles:

ynuser: Okay in my defense You looked hot so I got distracted

lando: whatever you say baby

username104: Yup that my girl I know

username105: Yall couldn't make it more obvious

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

Liked by ynuser, carlossainz55, oscarpiastri and 1,081,828 others

lando,ynuser : You lose something "good", You win something greater 🧡🧡

View all 14,994 comments

ynuser: I love you so much🥺🖤🖤

♥︎ by lando

username109: That's soo cute

username110: LANDO WTF HARD LAUNCH

username111: I'm going to act surprised

username112: Now we need A love album or song

ynuser: 🤭🤭

username113: OH SHE'S WRITING A LOVE SONG

username114: Stopppp This is so cute. The pictures, the caption my dude's in love love

♥︎ by lando, ynuser

username115: I want someone like lando.

-------------------------✩-------------------------

a/n: So I might have to do a part two since it doesn't let me post more photos. Let me know what you guys think in the comments. Love you guys.

-------------------------✩-------------------------

©angelluv16// do not copy, rewrite, or translate any of my work on any platforms

[enyaliuswrites]

➽ Love and Deepspace University/College AU

Multiple characters x gn!reader tags: fluff, reader doesn’t have to be mc, college au, university au, reader doesn't have to be in a relationship with character but it is slightly implied wc: 3.17k A/N: totally wasn't writing this while stuck in accounting class. This actually took me longer than I thought and I bet I still have more things to add even now, but this is what I imagined in my head today. Stay delusional! (*´∀`*)

Xavier

Xavier is an Astronomy & Astrophysics major typa student with a minor in Philosophy. You guys can disagree with me, that's just what I see it as.

Xavier is the student that is always asleep in class and just stays there even if the next class is coming into the lecture room (poor boy, someone should've woken him up fr).

However, his grades aren't in the earth’s core. His grades are actually pretty decent, above average actually. He probably dreams about his studies in a fun way or something.

Xavier is the type of student that walks around campus to find the best places to sleep and professors and students are genuinely worried when they find him sleeping on a tree. (The shade was better and no one would disturb him, he argues).

He doesn't have many friends, only 1 really close one, Jeremiah, whom they both don’t see each other very often. They have a sort of friendship that without meeting they know they’ll forever be there for each other.

You guys met because you were taking a nap on a particularly windy day, the weather wasn't so sunny and the breeze wasn't so cold, a perfect day to study under a tree and accidentally doze off I say. Unbeknownst to you, that was where Xavier would usually sleep as well. He was about to leave to go to one of his other sleeping spots but then something caught his eye.

A butterfly flying over to you and landing on your head. It was quite a sight and just in that moment you woke up. You were startled by the Sophomore Xavier in front of you and scared the butterfly off. You guys stayed there in silence for a bit before somehow it turned into you both dozing off under the tree.

From that day onwards, you guys would meet under that tree to study, talk or nap and you guys grew closer day by day.

Xavier definitely tries to help with your homework but instead his head is on the table and his mind is in the land of dreams. He really tries, but his sleeping schedule is too packed.

Watching the skies is definitely a must with him. Whether it be the night sky or the day sky—setting up a cute picnic to lie down and just point at clouds, saying what they reminded you of. Or watching the stars and the moon while basking in each other’s comfortable silence.

Xavier definitely writes love poems in class to give you later but he’ll never read them out loud to you, only when you’re about to fall asleep then he’ll read it.

He always tries to cook for you but always somehow starts a fire, even while trying to make something as simple as Kimbap or sushi. So now he’s banned from the kitchen and you have him help you with the most simplest of tasks (measuring out ingredients or cutting vegetables) instead.

“Xavier, why do I smell burning?” “I think the egg might be a little overcooked.” “Xavier, it's on fire! How on earth did you mess up an omelet that badly?!” “I followed what you said. Should I try again?” “NO!”

Xavier definitely takes you to places where he naps and the most breathtaking, picturesque and comfortable place. An old cathedral courtyard, a secluded rooftop garden on a building on campus, a secret garden on campus with a clearing in the middle. During these times when the sun is setting is when he recites poems he read or wrote to you.

Zayne

Zayne is obviously a medical student specializing in cardiology. I mean it’s clear as day.

He’s the type of student that never skips any school and doesn’t break any rules whatsoever. Sick? At school with a mask on. Injured? At school with a cast. Literally on the brink of death? At school with an IV bag and breathing tube. (exaggeration)

His back is straight in classes and you’ll never catch him slacking off his perfect posture. It’s kind of creepy, sometimes. He’s the student that always raises his hand to answer the professor that over time the professors are like “I know you know. I want to see if other students know.”

He’ll never share notes. As in, even if other people look at his notes they can’t understand his handwriting. Zayne’s notes are always so organized and clean that no one believes that he did that in a single class alone.

He definitely gets a lot of love letters. Girls go crazy for this man, (you and me included) they often try to invite him to help tutor them or to grab a bite. He always says the same thing, “If you’d had paid attention then you would understand.” and then just leaves.

He’s always in the library, studying during freshman and sophomore year. In his Junior year he started interning at a nearby hospital and from that day he just became 10 times more busy.

You guys met by chance—Senior Zayne was interning at the hospital and treated you after you pushed yourself too hard, eventually fainting, which is how you ended up here. (Gotta thank your bestfriend for being so worried she rushed you to the hospital.)

He saw you on campus the next day and at first he didn’t really care much, however after seeing you stumble around (you were just daydreaming) he came over and gave you a tiny lecture about caring for your health.

Somehow, that led to him visiting you after classes to give you a juicebox “To regulate your blood sugar” or a fruit, like a banana “Bananas are high in potassium, lowering the risk of a heart disease.” He’ll say that he’s your personal doctor-in-training and always encourages you to eat healthy by getting dinner at a clean restaurant. But, you still often catch him eating sweets and it always makes you laugh.

He never outright says that he wants to see you, he’ll make a thousand excuses instead. Sometimes, he’ll say that you’re late to a scheduled appointment with him.

“You’re late to your appointment.” “I’m pretty sure I just had one with you the day before yesterday.” “You left your pen here the other day, you should come get it.” “Zayne, just say you want to see me.”

Study dates are 99% of the dates you have with him. Both of you are entirely focused on your piles of assignments and study materials. If one of you has more free time than the other, you simply sit in silence and watch him concentrate—and he does the same for you.

Even though he’s extremely busy, as a medical student in his Senior year, he still makes plenty sure that you can feel his love. Whether that be sending a quick text in the morning or before he does something.

Sometimes when you guys meet he’s really tired so don't mind him taking a quick nap on your shoulder or around you. Make sure to snap a picture and use that as blackmail material afterwards, hehe.

Rafayel

Rafayel is a Fine Arts student for sure. He loves arts in all forms, painting, sketching, photography, scrapbooking, sculpture, fashion, the list goes on and on.

He’s the type of student that arrives fashionably late and always has some crazy ideas with his final projects and in the end he gets the highest grade. His artwork is actually one of the prides of the university/college and he’s extremely down to earth about it, only wanting to paint the things he sees in his dreams perfectly.

He definitely has people who want to be friends with him but he just treats everyone the same. Sassy and indifferent. Except for one friend who saw incredible potential in him and always helped him, making his art go famous around campus and earning Rafayel some money.

Rafayel is the type of student that walks around the campus for inspiration as well as walking around the city to get inspiration, often finding hidden treasures of places, tucked-away cafes, historic museums, indie theatres, vintage shops.

He definitely spends a lot of his time at the sea and most of his artworks are inspired by the underwater world. He spends time near the swimming pool when no one is there, during the late nights or early mornings.

Being very popular and famous around campus, he has many admirers which he all just waves away. He couldn’t care less, the only thing he cares about is his art and the girl he met when he was at what he called his ‘secret hideout’.

You were a little stressed from studies so you decided to walk around campus, exploring the different buildings and rooms. Unexpectedly, you found yourself in an old art gallery—the lights were turned off and the only source of light was from the sun’s rays. You stayed there for a while, even though the door was dusty and the room was cluttered with old art supplies, you presumed that this was an art supply room.

Suddenly, that was when a Sophomore Rafayel walked in and saw you standing in front of one of his old paintings. A painting that he tried experimenting with a new style of technique, one that he was embarrassed of so he hid it here. He yelped when you saw you, he thought you were a ghost.

You guys talked for a while before you parted ways, however after hearing you talking about why you liked his art (he didn’t admit it was him) he grew an interest in you.

A few days later when you were free you decided to come and absorb the peaceful atmosphere of the old gallery again, however much to your surprise Rafayel was there as well.

“You know how many days I waited for you? Why didn’t you come sooner? If I get an allergy from you you’re paying for my medical bills.” “I don’t think that’s how allergies work-” “Don’t change the subject!”

You guys became close pretty quick. His words, although sometimes quirky and sassy, were also full of depth and emotion. Whenever he talked about art or the sea he had a glint in his eyes and a nostalgic solemn tone in his voice.

Dates with him are usually you doing your work while he paints or sketches you. He’ll always show you what he cooked up while you were focused but he’ll always say how it’s never perfect and that, “I can’t capture how perfect you are, cutie.”

You guys often visit the sea, taking long walks on the beach during the day and during the night while he tells you stories of his dreams and his own fascination with the world under the waves. He often makes you cute accessories out of seashells and will always gift you something handmade after classes.

Walking around campus and finding more cool places where you’ve explored is a must with him. He’ll rub circles with his thumb, holding your hand as you guys explore rooftop gardens and just talk about dreams or studies.

Sylus

Sylus is definitely a business faculty typa student. For his major it might be international trade or something of the sort.

He’s the type of student that skips most of his classes but gets a perfect grade.

When he does come to class he’ll definitely be dozing off but when there's assignments he always somehow gets full marks. If the professor calls on him he’ll answer correctly and eventually professors just stop trying to catch him lacking (they never can).

He’ll come and go as he pleases and no one really says anything, too afraid to mess with him since everywhere he walks people just keep their eyes down or walk the other way. (I mean have you seen the Lunar New Year event? Bro was sticking out so much)

He definitely has LOADS of rumors about himself on campus but bro does NOT care. And the rumors are hella crazy too, and what's even crazier is that no one knows if they’re true or not. “I heard that he beat up a couple of students the other day so badly they were all hospitalized.” “Well, I heard that he’s involved with the mafia and does their dirty work for them.” “You guys are all wrong. He is the Mafia boss! He’s just working undercover here!”

Sylus doesn't have any friends. Well, except two identical twins that always follow him around as well as a crow (strange friends if you ask me). Luke and Kieran are like his lackeys but without the mistreatment, they’ll always help him with the little things while he’s out and about doing some shady businesses outside of school.

You guys definitely met because of something random and cliche. Sylus, the mysterious senior that you bumped into in the hallway, causing your drink to stain him, you and your work. You apologized and after a while he shrugged it off and let you off the hook. However, you kept seeing him around after that day and on the days that you didn’t, you would see a crow instead.

The crow would sometimes have a candy in his mouth or a kopiko (those coffee candies). Over time you’d see Sylus more often and he’d sometimes strike a conversation and you’d continue it and before you know it he’ll be showing up outside of your class and walk with you around campus for a quick bite or even to send you to your next class. Of course, people always stare or quickly shuffle away whenever you pass by.

He sometimes brings you a little something after class when you meet up. A juicebox. Milk. Coffee. Maybe even a little baked good. He often drives you around, whether that be on his motorcycle or his car, he lets you pick. Honestly, at this point he’s like your chauffeur. All he wants to see is your smile.

Dinner dates are an absolute must with him, whether that be eating out at a fancy restaurant or him cooking for you at his place.

During study dates you guys will definitely go to a reclusive hidden cafe that he found and order something little to help fuel you. He’ll watch you and help you if you need it (you have to beg a little for it though). He has the most messed up sleeping schedule so please let him rest when he suddenly dozes off while watching you study.

Sylus will definitely drag you out of class, saying that there’s an emergency and the professor allows him too, totally buying into his words as you both walk away. Why? All because you complained to him that you didn’t want to sit in this class and that it was boring.

“Sylus! Why’d you do that?!” “Didn’t you say that you didn’t like it? That you hated it, sweetie?” “I did, but you can’t just do that!” “Let’s go get dinner. We can go to that place you love to go to.” “…Okay, let’s go.”

Caleb

Caleb is an Aerospace Engineering student and a good one at that. (I mean have you read his anecdotes??)

Caleb is similar to Zayne, he never misses a class and is a top grade student. Scoring the top in every class. Honestly, everyone is jealous of him (me included).

He’s the type of student that shares his close friends with his notes and even sometimes helps tutor them. He’s loved by all his friends and everyone who works with him, whether that be group work or just striking up a conversation with him.

He’s extremely popular, due to his energetic personality, natural leadership and how reliable of a person he is. However, it feels like almost no one really knows him. He seems like an open book but he’s really a mystery to everyone, even his close friends.

He gets a lot of love letters as well, however as soon as he sees them he rips them and throws them in the bin.

He’s a great actor, (He definitely fooled me in the main story, got scared so much) and uses that to his advantage. He’s definitely involved in some shady things on campus, but no one knows. One time someone tried to create rumors about him and the next day those rumors instantly stopped.

You met Caleb through your friend. Caleb being a Junior at your university as well as the older brother of a friend of yours since middle school. You guys met once or twice back when you were in middle school but he remembered you up till the day he saw you on campus, dozing off at the library.

When you woke up you didn't expect an apple to be on your table along with a little note, “Fuel yourself for the rest of the day!” along with a doodle of an apple. You didn't eat it, afraid that it was poisoned (You weren't going to be snow white).

One day you bumped into him while leaving one of your classes and he immediately striked a conversation. While reminiscing about when you guys were younger you guys walked to a nearby cafe and grabbed a drink together. The conversation developed into updating each other about life and what you guys were planning for the future and you realized that you were about to be late for your next class. Before going he quickly scribbled his contact on a piece of sticky note and you swear that you’ve seen that handwriting somewhere before.

Ever since that day he’s always accompanied you to your classes and back. 9am class? He’ll be there to walk you there, even a little snack in his hand, usually an apple. 5pm? He’ll be there with a piece of candy, to help fuel you for the last class.

He’ll always scare other boys off, whether it be putting an arm around your shoulder when he sees someone looking or holding your waist and pulling you towards him. He’ll take whatever you say after, nagging him for being too open or catching you off guard.

It’s a back and forward of him going over to your place or you going to his and eating his home cooked dinners. Eating out is barely a thing with Caleb, he loves to cook for you and secretly wishes that you love it too.

He’s extremely clingy and possessive. Even if you want to hang out with other people he’ll always ask a lot of questions, but he’ll never be overly possessive.

“Who are you going with?” “Just a few friends.” “Where? For how long?” “Nowhere. I’ll take a couple of hours, maybe. Caleb, don't worry.” “I’ll pick you up when you finish. Just tell me when and where and I’ll be there. You can tell me if you want to leave early.”

He’s definitely the type of student that’ll help you with your assignments even if that means doing extra research on the topic you’re struggling with to help you.

Art creds : SuJi酥吉 on Weibo Dividers by @cafekitsune

[wheeloffortune-design]

GUYS. MEN. BOYS.

and other people that have awful dating website pictures and profiles.

Please, make an effort. Girls don't swipe left because they're superficial and wouldn't understand you. They swipe left because your profile is either uninspiring or you look like a serial killer.

Just. Make an effort.

YOUR PICTURE.

Please learn how to take a selfie. This is the right selfie angle:

Up, and a little bit to the side. You want a nice 3/4 view from above, it hides the double chin, gives your face definition and depth, and looks way better than just a front picture. Learn how to take selfies like a girl, we look amazing in them.

Don't take it from too close, you need to stretch that arm. You need to frame your full head, neck and shoulders.

The white light from the bathroom will highlight all your redness, your pimples, your face imperfections. You want a nice warm light with yellow tones, not white. Or maybe natural light, go stand next to a window.

The left picture is an immediate no. The right picture is a 'He seems nice, I'll read his profile.'

If you have one of these photos in your profile, sure, just don't make it the first one people will see.

The sunglasses-and-hat combo hides you. And we honestly don't care about the fish, no matter how huge it is.

YOUR LOOKS

Contrary to general belief, women don't systematically go for traditionally handsome guys. But they do go for well groomed ones. And it's not even that hard, the bar is in hell.

Clothes: wear something clean that fits you nicely. You can look presentable no matter your weight or musculature if you wear the right clothes.

Hair: If you have very thin and lifeless hair, and sometimes a receeding hairline, wearing it long and untied does not help you at all. It makes you look like RiffRaff from Rocky Horror.

A good haircut can frame your face, highlight your best features. There is no bad hair, only bad haircuts. And don't worry if you're greying or going bald, women don't judge your hair like that. But a bad haircut can make you look like a serial killer.

Also, please, no fedoras or trillbys. They're a red flag and also don't look good on anyone.

And trim that beard.

OTHER PICTURES

You don't need a lot. A good, first photo should be your face, well lit, smiling. You're not aiming for pretty, you're aiming for 'functional member of society'. You just need to look like a normal person.

For the others, try some photos doing the activities you like to do. Don't force the gym photo if it's not really your lifestyle, we're not that impressed anyway. But photos doing the things that you love, that's what will change a 'maybe' into a 'oooh I also like doing that!'. And don't worry about nerdy pictures, if the girls are nerds they will like it. I've swiped right many times when I see cosplay.

YOUR PROFILE

Now, a man is his own worst enemy. Women on dating websites are already open to try, but men so often shoot themselves in the foot.

Don't write something negative about women in general, relationships sucking, your ex, etc etc. If someone has reached your profile text, they don't want to read your bitching. They don't know you, they don't care.

You need to be polite, nice, approachable. Interesting. Tell what you like to do in life, and what you're looking for. It's not hard:

'Hi! I'm Mark, I'm back on this dating app, hoping this time will be the right one! I work a boring desk job, but what I really love is reading weird horror novels, playing retro games, and trying new recipes. I have two dogs, who rule my world. I'm open to new friendships, would like a steady relationship in the end.'

It's that simple.

Also: MAKE UP YOUR MIND ABOUT WANTING KIDS OR NOT.

If I see another profile of a guy who's 40 and still undecided, I will burn down a building. Women need to know if they want kids or not because we have a deadline. They're looking for this in a guy's profile. Wether you want kids or not, write it somewhere.

Don't explicitely talk about sex in your profile, it's creepy. We don't know you. Also, if you manage to chat with a woman, don't start asking questions about sex right away, that never works. You need to understand that we deal with so many creeps. Please don't be another one.

So, tl;dr:

You need to look and talk like a normal, functional human being, who has a job, and hobbies.

You don't need to be extremely handsome, you just need to not scare them away. Dating websites are so full of badly taken pictures and creeps, that seeing just a normal dude who likes dogs is a relief.

The bar is in hell. The effort required to rise above the creeps and weirdoes is minuscule. Go take a well-lit selfie.