#please do and I say this with as much respect as I can | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

vibelladonna · 2 days ago

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✑ 𝓈𝑜𝓊𝓁𝓂𝒶𝓉𝑒 𝜗𝜚 𝒸𝓇𝑜𝓌𝑒, 𝓈𝑜𝓁 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝑔𝑒𝑜

· ───────⋆⋅♤⋅⋆─────── ·

𝓈𝓎𝓃𝑜𝓅𝓈𝒾𝓈: Where the TKATB men ache for you with an intensity that borders on obsession, while the men remain oblivious to the fact that you’ve been 'the one' all along.

I wanted to share something sweet for Valentine's Day—a little glimpse into love and longing to celebrate the occasion. But don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten about my full-length fanfic! I’m still working on it, and there’s plenty more to come. Consider this a small treat while the main course is still in the works.

𝒸𝑜𝓃𝓉𝑒𝓃𝓉 𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔: 18+ NO KIDS (Adults Only) This content contains mature themes unsuitable for children. Please respect the creator's intentions.

Fluff & Smut Teasing, Possessive!Sol, Neck Biting, Slight Dom! Sol, Tension & Anticipation, Overwhelming Desire, Rough Hands, Soft Kisses, “Say it Again” Trope, Passionate & Intense Moments Smug Reader, Completely Ruined Sol, Sol Trying (and Failing) to Hold Back, Lightly Spicy, Heavy on the Feels.

✑ 𝒸𝓇𝑜𝓌𝑒

For over two years and counting, Crowe has been haunted by the memory of your touch.

Crowe would never deny that he enjoys having you around. But if you don’t see him that way—if you never do—he’ll live with it. He’ll push it down, bury it deep, because losing you entirely is something he refuses to accept. If friendship is all you can offer, then he’ll take it, no matter how much it eats at him.

After all, it was him that day. The day those bullies cornered you, their words sharp and cruel, their intentions worse. He was the one who stepped in without hesitation, who made it clear that they’d have to go through him first. He didn’t do it for gratitude or recognition. He did it because it was you.

It’s always been about you.

He doesn’t just want you in his life—he needs you there. He wants you around his friends, wants you to feel safe, to feel at home wherever he is. He wants to see you smile, wants to be the reason for it, even if you never look at him the way he looks at you. It doesn’t matter. Because Crowe loves everything about you.

The way your laughter sounds—effortless, bright, like something he could get addicted to. The way you wsolkle your nose when you’re annoyed, the way your eyes soften when you talk about something you love. The way your presence alone makes everything feel a little less heavy.

And it scares him.

The way he aches for you.

The way he yearns for more.

But if being close to you means keeping his feelings locked away, then he’ll do it. He’ll endure it. He’ll hold himself back, bite his tongue, force himself to be content with whatever piece of you he’s allowed to have. Because even if it’s not everything he wants, at least it’s something. At least it’s you.

Crowe lets out a slow breath, stasolg at the pile of papers in front of him, but his mind is elsewhere.

You’re sprawled across the floor, cross-legged among scattered documents, your back against a pile of pillows as you skim through a paper in your hands. The soft glow of the evening light filters through the curtains, casting a golden hue over you, making you look almost unreal. He should be focused—should be sorting through the paperwork like he said he would. Instead, all he can focus on is you.

You—who insisted on helping despite him telling you he could handle it.

You—who sits there with that small, content smile, completely unaware of how you consume him.

“Crowe, you need to file these by date,” you murmur, tapping a few papers into a neat stack. “You’re making this more complicated than it needs to be.”

He huffs, running a hand through his loose braid. “I never asked for help.”

“You never ask for help, period,” you counter easily, throwing him a glance before looking back at the papers. “Besides, I don’t mind. This way, you won’t end up buried under a mess of your own making.”

He watches as you shift, your knee bumping against his, and his whole body tenses. It’s nothing. Just a touch. But his mind lingers on it, the warmth spreading, sinking into his skin like ink on paper. He clenches his jaw, flipping through the stack in his hands without really reading anything.

“Crowe?”

Your voice snaps him back, and he blinks at you.

“You okay?” you ask, tilting your head slightly.

He exhales through his nose, forcing a smirk. “Yeah. Just wondering why you’re still here when you could be doing something better with your time.”

You roll your eyes, shifting again—brushing against him again. “And miss watching you suffer through basic organization? Never.”

He scoffs, shaking his head, but his grip on the papers tightens. It’s not fair. How easily you get under his skin, how effortlessly you settle into his space, into his life. He wonders if you even realize it—how much of him you consume, how much he aches for you in ways he has no right to.

Crowe doesn’t know when it started, this need, this craving that’s carved itself into his ribs. But he knows it’s always been you. The realization sits heavy in his chest, like a secret too dangerous to let slip.

His fingers twitch as he watches you. He wants to touch you, to reach out, to thread his fingers through your hair and trace the curve of your jaw. To pull you closer, to feel the warmth of you against him.

But you’re his friend. Closest Friend.

And if that’s all you’ll ever be—if that’s all you can give—then he’ll endure it.

Even if it kills him.

The silence between you stretches, filled only with the occasional rustle of paper and the rhythmic tick of the clock on the wall. Crowe exhales, a slow and controlled breath, as if that alone will steady the wildfire spreading in his chest. It doesn’t.

You’re still here, still close enough that he can feel the faint heat radiating off your skin, and he can’t focus—not on the papers, not on anything other than the phantom sensation of your touch line side on his jaw. His resolve is slipping, unraveling thread by thread, and it’s all your fault.

He tells himself to let it go.

To push it down, bury it deep where it belongs.

But then you shift, stretching your arms above your head with a quiet sigh, before letting yourself fall back against the pillows behind you. “I think we deserve a break,” you say, staring up at the ceiling. “Your filing system is a disaster, by the way.”

Crowe lets out a breathy chuckle. “I don’t have a system.”

“Exactly.”

You turn your head to look at him, that lazy, contented smile still playing on your lips, and something inside him caves.

Without thinking, he moves, shifting onto his side until he’s lying next to you. The papers don’t matter. The mess on the floor doesn’t matter. Nothing does—except this moment.

You don’t react, at least not in the way he expects. There’s no teasing remark, no raised brow questioning why he’s suddenly this close. Instead, you just glance at him as if it’s the most natural thing in the world.

“I thought you didn’t take breaks,” you murmur.

“Maybe you’re a bad influence.” His voice is quieter now, softer.

You gsol, amused. “Maybe.”

Crowe watches as your fingers absently play with the hem of your sleeve, and he wants to reach out. Wants to take your hand in his, wants to thread his fingers between yours just to see how it feels. The temptation is maddening.

“Do you ever get tired of this?” he asks suddenly.

You blink, tilting your head. “Tired of what?”

His throat is dry. He swallows, pretending that the words aren’t sticking in his chest. “Of… being around me all the time.”

It’s a stupid question. He doesn’t know why he asked it. Maybe he just needs reassurance—something to hold onto before he completely loses himself to this feeling that he refuses to name.

Your expression softens. “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t want to be.”

The answer should be enough. It should satisfy him and quiet the restlessness inside him.

It doesn’t.

Because there’s something about the way you say it—so effortlessly, like it’s obvious. Like, it’s simple. And for you, maybe it is. Maybe you don’t see the weight behind it, the way your words settle into his bones, warm and suffocating all at once, like they were always meant to be there.

Crowe barely has a second to react before you move—quick, decisive, and utterly reckless with his personal space. His body tenses, muscles coiled tight, but he doesn’t stop you. He doesn’t even try.

One moment, you’re standing beside him, your usual teasing lilt laced in your voice. The next, he’s flat on his back, breath knocked from his lungs as you press him into the floor. His pulse jumps, sharp and immediate, but it has nothing to do with the impact.

Your legs cage around his waist, your hands planted firmly against his chest, pinning him in place. And worst of all? You look amused. Like this isn’t something that should have him gripping at the last shreds of his self-control.

His fingers twitch at his sides, aching to do something—grab your hips, push you off, pull you closer—but he forces himself to stay still. His chest rises and falls beneath your touch, each breath shallower than the last as his mind races to catch up with what the hell just happened.

Crowe narrows his eyes, lips parting like he’s about to throw out some sharp remark, something cool and dismissive, to mask the way his body reacts to you. But when he meets your gaze—playful, expectant, entirely unbothered—his words die before they even form.

And that’s when it hits him.

You know.

You know exactly what you’re doing.

And worse?

You’re enjoying this.

“What the—?!” He instinctively tries to push himself up, but you’re already pressing your palms into his shoulders, effectively trapping him.

“Oh, relax,” you huff, gazing down at him. “You looked like you were spiraling. I had to do something before you started brooding so hard you set the house on fire.”

Crowe glares. “I don’t brood.”

“You totally brood.”

“I don’t.”

You raise a brow. “You’re literally doing it right now.”

Crowe opens his mouth, then closes it, then just scowls. He hates that you might be right. He hates even more that you’re looking at him like this, all smug and unbothered, completely unaware of the absolute chaos you’re causing in his head.

This is normal to you, isn’t it? Sitting on top of him like it’s no big deal, pinning him down like you aren’t single-handedly wrecking his sanity.

Crowe groans, throwing his head back against the pillows. “You’re actually gonna kill me one day.”

“You’re being dramatic.”

“Oh, am I?” His voice is dry, but there’s a flicker of something else beneath it—something dangerously close to unsteady. His hands slide onto your hips, firm yet hesitant, like he’s caught between pushing you away and pulling you closer. His fingers press just enough to make you aware of his grip, of the fact that you could move away if you wanted to.

Not that you would.

“Because last I checked, you’re literally on top of me right now,” he continues, a sharp exhale leaving his lips, “and I’m pretty sure I’m experiencing cardiac arrest.”

You snort, unfazed. “Please. If I wanted to kill you, I’d at least make it more interesting.”

His deep blue eyes flick up to yours, something flickering behind them—amusement and frustration—but before he can bite back with some witty retort, you lean in closer.

Your weight shifts slightly, pressing down in a way that makes his fingers tighten on your hips, his knuckles paling for just a second. The movement knocks a few strands of his long brown hair over his forehead, but he doesn’t dare lift a hand to fix it. Not when you’re this close.

“Y’know…” Your voice is softer now, teasing, thoughtful, like you’re genuinely contemplating something. “You’re weirdly warm.”

Crowe stiffens when your hands leave his shoulders, fingers trailing up the column of his neck, slow and deliberate. His pulse betrays him, hammering beneath your touch.

Then your palms frame his jaw, thumbs brushing over his cheekbones, and he knows he’s done for.

He swallows hard, his throat bobbing beneath your fingers. His breath stutters, his mind screaming at him to say something—anything—before you realizes the effect you have on him. But his mouth refuses to work, completely useless as you study him like you’ve just uncovered something interesting.

Your grin barely has a second to register in Crowe’s mind before he moves.

With a swift, effortless motion, your world flips—air rushing past you as your back meets the ground, cool earth pressing against your skin. A startled gasp barely escapes your lips before you feel it—him.

Crowe’s body cages yours, his knees planted firmly between your legs, his hands pinning yours above your head. His long brown hair falls forward, strands grazing your face like a ghost of a touch, teasing and torturous all at once. His deep blue eyes lock onto yours; the corner of his lips twitches. “Not so funny now, is it?”

Your breath catches, but you refuse to give him the satisfaction of looking flustered. “Oh? Did I strike a nerve?”

His grip on your wrists tightens—not painful, just *commanding.* Enough to remind you of the sudden shift in power between you.

Then, without warning, he leans down, his lips brushing the shell of your ear as his voice drops to something low, almost *gravelly.*

“You really don’t know when to quit, do you?”

A shiver bolts down your spine, but you refuse to react, refuse to let him see how much his proximity affects you. *Two can play this game.*

“Oh, I know when to quit,” you whisper back, tilting your head ever so slightly, your lips just inches from his. “I just don’t want to.”

And then it happens—so fast, so unexpected—you barely have time to process.

Crowe’s lips crash against yours, hot and unrelenting, stealing the very breath from your lungs. It’s not slow, not gentle—it’s every bit as competitive as the both of you, as if he’s trying to prove something.

Your fingers twitch in his grasp, the need to grab him, to pull him even closer overwhelming every thought in your head. But he keeps you pinned, controlling the moment, teasing you with the maddening way his lips move against yours.

Then, just as quickly as he kissed you, he pulls back, hovering above you, his breath warm against your swollen lips. His expression is unreadable, but his eyes—oh, his eyes—they’re gleaming with something smug, something victorious.

“Still think this is fun?”

You blink, still reeling, heart hammering so hard it might burst out of your chest.

And then, in the most infuriatingly casual voice, you breathe out, “...Kinda,”

Crowe groans, head dropping to your shoulder as he mutters, “You’re actually going to kill me.” he mutters, barely audible.

And that’s the real problem, isn’t it?

✑ 𝓈𝑜𝓁

Sol says three months. Honestly, it’s like one week. Every moment of it, you’re there.

Understand that Sol has always been the quiet one, the guy who blends into the background until he doesn’t. He’s the type that hardly stands out, sitting at the back of the room, hidden behind his own little world. It’s easy for people to forget he’s even there, especially when he doesn’t really give them a reason to look. He’s cold, distant, and usually wrapped up in the space between the pages of a book or the strokes of a paintbrush. A lone figure in the corner, always studying, always creating, always alone.

But then… you came along.

He remembers the first time he saw you, your laugh like a melody that somehow cut through the haze of his own isolation. You didn’t ask him anything, didn’t try to crack his shell like everyone else did. You didn’t even seem to notice the way his eyes followed you, the way his heart skipped a beat every time you came near. Instead, you just *were*—existing in the same space, offering him something different: peace.

And, slowly, things began to change.

Sol became more aware of the way your smile lit up the room. The way your laughter stuck with him long after it had faded. He started paying attention to you in a way he never did anyone else. Your presence seemed to be magnetic, drawing him in like a force he couldn’t resist. And with every passing day, the intensity of his thoughts about you only grew.

It wasn’t just your smile, though—no. It was the way you interacted with him. The way your eyes lingered on his work, the way you’d ask him about his day as if it mattered. And when you spoke to him, there was a warmth in your voice, an unspoken invitation to be more than the quiet kid at the back of the room. It made him feel something, something deep in his chest that he couldn’t quite explain.

That’s when the obsession started.

Every time Sol closed his eyes, you were there. His mind wouldn’t let him rest, and no matter how hard he tried to push you away, you kept slipping in. You were there in the sketches he couldn’t stop drawing, the paintings that came to life in ways he didn’t intend. You were the muse behind every piece, every stroke, every line. He found himself lost in the idea of you, consumed by the thought of you.

And then, it hit him like a wave.

You had become his art. You were the subject that filled his pages, the image he couldn’t get enough of. The way you moved, the way you smiled, the way you lingered in his thoughts long after he’d seen you. Every brushstroke he made in his art book brought you to life, even if just for a moment. He painted you in every way—your hands, your eyes, the soft curve of your smile—all the details that stayed with him, making his heart race and his hands tremble as he worked.

You were in every sketch. He couldn’t escape you, not even on paper. You had taken over his mind completely, and now, you were becoming a part of his creations. The more he drew you, the more real you felt. The more your presence seeped into his soul, until there was nothing else that mattered.

And as he sat there, pencil in hand, gaze focused intently on the page in front of him, he found himself lost again. He wasn’t just sketching anymore. He was memorizing every little detail of you—every little thing he hadn’t quite captured yet, like the way your hair would fall when you tilted your head or the way your fingers would idly trace along the edges of the paper when you were distracted. It wasn’t just art now—it was obsession.

The thought of you lingered even as he set his pencil down, staring at the half-finished drawing of you, and he could hear your voice in his mind. A voice, soft and warm, saying, “I knew you could do it.”

And just like that, it didn’t matter how tired he was, how much he wanted to just collapse from exhaustion. The only thing that made his heart race now was the idea of you—you in his world.

You in his art. And even though he couldn’t quite reach you yet, he was determined to make you his, on paper if nowhere else.

Because of this feeling?

This feeling of wanting you, craving you?

He wasn’t sure he’d ever stop.

Sol likes to think of himself as someone who takes his time—someone slow and deliberate when it comes to relationships. He’s not the type to let someone in easily, to open up to someone so quickly. After all, he’s spent years building up a wall around his heart, carefully maintaining a distance to protect himself from the potential sting of rejection or loss. It’s worked for him. He’s always been cautious, weighing every connection with a cool, measured approach.

You, who had slipped past his defenses in ways he never expected. You, who made everything feel real. And despite his doubts—his constant questioning of whether this would last, whether you’d want to stick around—Sol found himself unable to ignore the way you made him feel. The way you looked at him, the way you cared so easily, so genuinely. He couldn't deny that he’d been falling for you for months now.

It had been three months since you’d entered his life, but it felt like a lifetime in all the best ways. You were always there—patient, kind, steady in a way that soothed the nervous parts of him that he’d hidden for so long. But still, he told himself it was too soon. He couldn’t be this vulnerable.

Until that one moment.

The words slipped out so casually, so innocently.

“You’re so good at this; I’m so proud of you, Sol.”

It felt like the ground beneath him had shifted. The world suddenly tilted off its axis. Those words—those words, coming from you—sent a shockwave through him, rattling something deep inside him he hadn’t realized was there. The way you said it, with such sincerity, the way your eyes held his, soft and full of admiration—it changed everything.

He tried to brush it off. He told himself it was nothing. He’d been complimented before, praised by others countless times. It was just a simple phrase. Nothing special.

But it was different. It was you.

You made it feel special. Your words were like a thread that wove into the very fabric of his being, pulling him closer to you, to this feeling that he couldn’t name but knew was consuming him.

Now, nothing else felt as important. Those praises from others? They didn’t matter. They were just words, empty and shallow. They didn’t stir something in him the way your words did.

He wanted more of it. He needed more of it.

He had spent months convincing himself that he was just inspired by you—yeah, that was it. You were his muse, his favorite subject, the reason his sketchbooks were filled to the brim with your face. It wasn’t that deep.

And then, one day, as he stood in his studio apartment, paint staining his fingers, a half-finished portrait of you staring back at him from the canvas, he realized something terrifying.

He wasn’t just painting you. He was worshiping you.

The way your lips curled when you teased him, the way your eyes softened when you looked at him like he was worth something—it was all captured in every brushstroke, every tiny detail. He wasn’t just an artist anymore. He was a man possessed.

And before he could stop himself, he was standing in front of you.

Before you could process what was happening, Sol was already moving. His strong hands found your waist, and in one swift motion, he pulled you into his lap like it was the most natural thing in the world. The half-dried paint on his fingers smeared against your skin, marking you as his, but he didn’t seem to care.

His grip was firm, almost possessive, keeping you locked in place as he gazed up at you, eyes dark and unreadable. His chest rose and fell heavily, the intensity in his expression making your breath hitch.

“You have no idea what you do to me,” he murmured, voice rough, like he was holding himself back from something reckless. His fingers flexed against your hips, grounding himself—or maybe keeping you from getting away.

Sol’s fingers dug into your waist, his grip firm but not enough to hurt—just enough to make sure you weren’t going anywhere. His chest rose and fell against yours, breaths uneven, like he was trying to hold himself back—Trying, but failing miserably.

Your hands pressed into his shoulders instinctively, steadying yourself, but that only made it worse—made him want you *closer*, made him crave the feeling of you melting against him. His fingers flexed, sliding up your back, slow and deliberate, his warmth seeping through your clothes, leaving a burning trail in its wake.

“Please,” he murmured, his voice rough, dangerously low, his lips hovering just beneath your ear. “Say it again.”

It wasn’t a request.

You shivered, your heartbeat hammering, knowing exactly what you were doing when you leaned in just a little, your breath teasing against his skin, close enough that your lips nearly brushed his.

“…You’re so good, Sol.”

His breath hitched, a sharp inhale like your words had physically hit him. His jaw tensed, his fingers tightening their hold as if he was afraid that if he let go, you’d slip right through his grasp.

And then—he broke.

His mouth was on your throat in an instant, teeth grazing your skin before he bit down—not hard enough to bruise, but enough to make you gasp, enough to leave his mark. His other hand tangled into your hair, tilting your head just so, giving him more access, more you.

A low, satisfied sound rumbled in his chest when he felt you shudder against him, your fingers clutching at his shirt. He soothed the bite with a slow, open-mouthed kiss, his lips lingering, savoring.

“You drive me insane,” he murmured against your skin, his voice strained, almost helpless. His nose brushed along your jaw as he exhaled, the warmth of his breath sending a shiver down your spine.

His hands tightened around you, possessive, like he was trying to pull you into him, like *having you* in his lap wasn’t enough.

“Again,” he whispered, lips ghosting over the shell of your ear. “Please.”

And this time, it wasn’t a plea.

It was a demand.

✑ 𝑔𝑒𝑜

Lastly, for Geo, it took about a year and some months; he doesn’t really all that time, starting at you.

Geo was never meant for this to happen. He didn’t plan on it, didn’t think it was even possible. He wasn’t the type to fall for people—let alone someone like you.

His life had always been straightforward, filled with precision, discipline, and control. Best in archery with enough wealth to make people respect him without having to ask. That’s how things worked for him. No one dared to challenge him. No one dared to get too close.

Except, somehow, you.

You were Crowe's friend. It had started innocently enough—nothing more than tolerating your presence because Crowe trusted you and because you seemed to enjoy spending time with him. But the more time passed, the harder it was for Geo to ignore you.

Your laughter, your smile, the way your eyes lit up when you spoke. It wasn’t anything spectacular—he tried to convince himself—but it was... enough to make him curious.

He liked to think of it as curiosity.

But the more he tried to convince himself of that, the more it became something else entirely. It wasn’t just curiosity, and it wasn’t just the way you seemed to blend seamlessly into his life, leaving an imprint without even trying. It was something deeper, something he couldn’t explain, something he didn’t want to acknowledge.

It was the way you wore that soft lip with that shiny gloss. That was the first thing he noticed. You probably never realized how you applied it, but to Geo, it became the only thing he could focus on whenever you were nearby. How it caught the light, the way the gloss made your lips look fuller, more inviting.

He hated how distracted he got by it, but he couldn't help himself. He'd watch as you smiled and delicately applied the gloss, not realizing that each time you did, his eyes would flicker to your lips, unable to look away.

It wasn’t just about the gloss—he hated to admit it, but it was the way your lips moved, the way they curved up when you spoke to him. Every smile felt like an invitation, and it made his heart race every time he saw it.

And the worst part?

He couldn’t stop thinking about it.

His mind ran wild, imagining what it would be like to kiss you, to taste that gloss. Would it be sweet? Fruity? Would it be like strawberry or maybe something more decadent, like cake? Geo didn’t know, but the mere thought drove him crazy.

Yet, every time you caught him staring, you would smile, the same playful glint in your eyes, and then push away from him. It was maddening.

“It was nice talking to you,” you’d say, and just like that, you were gone, leaving him standing there with the weight of his thoughts.

It wasn’t the way you left that bothered him—it was how you left him wanting more.

He couldn’t help but wonder, when you left, if you knew how much power you had over him. Did you know how much he craved the taste of you, how much he longed to be the one you smiled at like that? And every time you walked away, it felt like you were pulling something from him, something he couldn't get back.

Geo wasn’t used to feeling like this—unsure, obsessed, craving something that was just out of reach. He never thought he’d be the type of person to feel like this, but here he was, and it made him desperate.

He couldn't keep pretending he didn't want you, even though he knew better. He couldn’t deny how much he wanted to be the one to kiss you, to taste the sweetness you wore on your lips. But you’d never give him that satisfaction.

And that, more than anything, pulled him in even deeper.

Even during one of his archery competitions, it was all background noise. His eyes, always sharp and calculating, found you almost immediately—despite the sea of people around, despite the chaos of the competition unfolding before him. There you were, standing off to the side, caught up in the frenzy, but somehow, your presence always felt like it anchored him.

Geo’s focus sharpened, his usual stone-cold expression becoming intense, almost feral, the moment he locked eyes with you. His heart skipped in a way he couldn't explain, and for the briefest second, the noise of the crowd, the frantic cheers, the tension in the air—all of it seemed to fade into nothing.

There was something in the way you looked at him, that same fire in your eyes. It sent a shock of electricity through his veins, tightening his chest. It wasn’t just admiration. No, it was something deeper. Something possessive. Geo didn't want to admit it, but the way you looked at him, unwavering, made his ego swell in a way he had never known.

The satisfaction of knowing you were watching him, that you were his to look at, made his body hum with need.

It was this feeling that had him doing something uncharacteristic for him: walking over to you before the competition even started, pushing through the crowd as if he had a claim on you. His movements were deliberate, as though the world had momentarily paused just for him to take that step toward you.

And as the competition wore on, Geo found his gaze kept darting to where you stood at the edge, just beyond their reach. When he wasn’t actively participating, his attention would always wander back to you.

It was like an anchor, something he couldn’t shake off.

Geo had never been one to linger—at least, not without reason. He was efficient, calculated, and never one to waste time where it wasn’t necessary. And yet, here he was, standing just a little behind his group, hovering just enough to be near them but not quite *with* them.

And then you appeared.

“What are you doing here, all by your lonesome?”

Your voice was light, teasing, and when he turned his gaze downward, there you were, standing just slightly apart from the others—just like him.

Geo had always found idle conversation tedious, a waste of time. But with you? It never felt like that. Even when you were talking his ear off, rambling about things he barely understood or had no real interest in, he listened.

Normally, he would’ve found it grating. Normally, he would have shut it down with a deadpan stare and a clipped response.

But with you…

His ever-present frown softened, the tension in his shoulders easing in a way he didn’t quite notice. He wasn’t even irritated that you were talking. If anything, he found himself waiting for the next thing you’d say, some stupid remark or observation that would somehow make him want to keep this—whatever this was—going.

“They’re loud,” he muttered, nodding toward his friends.

You scoffed, rolling your eyes with exaggerated flair. “And you’ve decided to, what? Hide in the shadows, all broody and mysterious? Go, girl, give us nothing.”

A breath of a laugh—not quite full, not quite deliberate—escaped his lips before he could stop it. It wasn’t loud, wasn’t obvious, but it was there.

When his gaze flicked back to yours, you were already smiling, your eyes alight with something effortless. Effervescent.

Geo’s stomach twisted, but not unpleasantly. It was unfamiliar, unsettling in its quiet intensity. He didn’t yearn for people—he never had. He never needed anyone. But then why did his pulse kick up when you tilted your head at him like that? Why did his body seem to lean ever so slightly toward you, like some invisible force was tugging him closer?

He swallowed, barely aware of the way his fingers twitched at his sides.

It was ridiculous.

You were ridiculous.

Geo wasn’t one for impulse—he was sharp, calculated, always in control. But with you? That control slipped too easily, unraveling before he even realized what was happening.

Your teasing words hung in the air between you, your smile playful, taunting. “You know I can see you always looking at me, right?”

His jaw tightened, his mind already preparing a sarcastic reply—something to keep the moment light, to keep his defenses up. But before he could think twice, his body moved on instinct.

“Yeah.”

The single word left his lips smoother than he expected, like it belonged there. But then he took it a step further, voice dropping just slightly—just enough to make your breath hitch.

“I love it.”

Your expression shifted instantly, amusement flickering into something softer, something unsure. Your lips parted, a small, stunned noise escaping before you stumbled over your words. “What—huh?”

Geo smirked, watching the blush creep up your neck, your wide eyes blinking up at him in disbelief. And damn it, the sight sent a rush of satisfaction straight through him, settling deep in his chest.

Before you could think of backing away, before he could second-guess himself, he reached out. His fingers wrapped around your wrist—gentle, firm—as he tugged you toward him in one smooth pull.

The space between you disappeared in an instant, your breath mixing with his as you steadied yourself against his chest. His other hand ghosted along your waist, his touch featherlight but possessive, like he wasn’t willing to let go just yet.

“Wha—?” The protest barely left your lips before he leaned in, lowering his head, his breath hot against your skin as his lips brushed against your forehead—slow, deliberate, like he was savoring the moment.

You froze.

He felt it—the way your breath caught, the way your fingers curled ever so slightly against his shirt like you were trying to ground yourself.

Geo smirked against your skin before pulling back just enough to meet your gaze again. His aquamarine eyes burned into yours, filled with something unreadable, something dangerous.

“You were saying?” His voice was smooth, teasing, but there was no mistaking the edge beneath it—the quiet claim, the unspoken you’re mine.

And just like that, he let his fingers slip away, leaving you standing there, flushed and breathless.

His smirk deepened.

Yeah.

He definitely loved it.

·───────⋆⋅♤⋅⋆───────·

#the kid at the back x reader #the kid at the back vn #tkatb #solivan brugmansia #the kid at the back crowe #the kid at the back sol #tkatb crowe #tkatb sol #tkatb vn #crowe ichabod #tkatb geo #sol brugmansia #sol x reader #jericho crowe ichabod #crowe x reader

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mistyshane30 · 1 day ago

Text

You Were Never Mine to Lose (Chapter 5)

Synopsis: A beach day turns into playful chaos—volleyball, sun-kissed laughter, and unexpected moments that leave you more breathless than the game itself. But as the night falls over Malibu, you can’t shake the feeling that something about today feels different.

Word count: 5.8k

Warnings: Mild sexual tension, Mentions of alcohol consumption, Mild language, Physical injury

Another day in Malibu.

You wake up earlier than expected, the dull throb of a hangover making its presence known behind your eyes. With a groan, you bury your face into the pillow, regretting those extra drinks from last night. The taste of alcohol lingers faintly, and your body feels sluggish. Still, despite the headache, there’s a small silver lining—you and Agatha are finally on good terms again. The tension that had loomed over the past couple of days seems to have lifted, if only slightly.

After mustering enough willpower to leave the comfort of your bed, you go through your usual morning routine—splashing cold water on your face, brushing your teeth, and throwing on something light while heading down for breakfast. The smell of coffee helps, though your appetite isn’t quite there yet. You settle for something small and hydrating, scrolling through your phone absentmindedly as you eat.

As you scroll through your phone, a notification from the group chat grabs your attention.

Coven Group Chat

Jen: "Since our beach day didn’t happen the other day, it’s happening THIS morning. No excuses."

You take a sip of your drink, already knowing where this is going. Before you can type a response, another message pops up.

Jen: "Also, two-piece bikinis ONLY. It’s for the photos. No cover-ups during the shoot, ladies 😘."

Your eyebrows shoot up. Again?

The reactions roll in almost immediately.

Alice: "Excuse me, dictatorship much? What if I wanna wear a T-shirt and shorts like a respectable citizen?"

Lilia: "I have a one-piece, does that count???"

Wanda: "Ugh, fine. But if anyone forces me to take off my sarong, I’m leaving the country."

Jen: "Wanda, we both know you have a whole collection of bikinis that you pretend not to own. Just wear one."

Wanda: "Blocked."

You chuckle at the ongoing banter, but before you can chime in, another message pops up.

Agatha: "Does anyone have sunscreen? I forgot to bring one."

You smirk, fingers flying across your screen.

You: "Tsk, tsk. Governor Harkness forgetting sunscreen? Tragic. And here I thought you were supposed to be responsible."

Agatha: "Oh, shut up. Just let me borrow some."

You: "Say please. 😌"

Agatha: "No."

You: "Then burn. ☀️🔥"

Agatha: "I hope a seagull steals your sunglasses."

Alice: "LMAOOO not the seagull curse 💀."

Jen: "Enough flirting, you two."

Your eyes widen slightly, and before you can protest, Wanda adds—

Wanda: "Yeah, just get married already."

You: "HELLO??? BLOCKED. REPORTED. UNSENT."

Agatha: "Literally gagging. You’re all insufferable."

Lilia: "Just admit it, you two are so divorced-coded."

Agatha: "Can’t be divorced if we were never married."

Alice: "Enemies to lovers arc when?"

You groan, deciding to ignore the chat before it gets worse. Jen finally swoops in to wrap things up.

Jen: "ANYWAY. Cabana. One hour. No latecomers."

Before you close the chat, you sigh and type—

You: "Fine, Agatha, I’ll let you borrow mine. But if you don’t return it, I’m suing."

Agatha: "Yeah, yeah. Put it in my tab."

You shake your head with a small smirk.

With that, you set your phone down and stretch, finally dragging yourself toward your luggage. Time to pick out something to wear.

Rummaging through your packed clothes, your eyes land on a deep purple wrap-around string bikini top with matching string bikini bottoms. The color is rich, the design tasteful yet undeniably bold. You hesitate for only a moment before deciding, Screw it. If we’re doing this again, I might as well go all in.

You slip into the bikini, adjusting the ties securely before layering a sheer black kimono over it. The delicate fabric flows with every movement, adding an effortless elegance to the look. To complete the ensemble, you grab your Bvlgari Serpenti BV40009U 33F Gold Sunglasses, a wide-brimmed beach hat for extra sun protection, and a pair of comfortable beach sandals.

Before heading out, you toss a few essentials into your tote bag—your phone, a towel, and, of course, the sunscreen Agatha so carelessly forgot.

With one final glance in the mirror, a smirk tugs at your lips.

You look hotter than the sun.

As you step onto the warm sand, the salty ocean breeze greets you, tousling your hair beneath your wide-brimmed hat. The sun is already climbing higher, casting a golden glow over the beach. Your sunglasses shield your eyes as you scan the shoreline, searching for the group.

Your gaze lands on a cabana near the water, where Jen, Lilia, and Alice lounge comfortably. They’re deep in conversation, laughing about something when Alice suddenly notices you approaching. Her eyes widen as she nudges Jen and Lilia with her elbow.

“Oh. My. God,” Alice gasps dramatically, sitting up straighter. “Would you look at that? Malibu’s about to catch fire.”

Jen turns her head, following Alice’s gaze, and when she sees you, she lets out a low whistle. “Damn, Y/N,” she grins, taking a sip from her coconut drink. “If I wasn’t getting married, I’d smash. No hesitation.”

Lilia laughs, adjusting her sun hat. “Same. I mean, I’m already questioning things.”

You roll your eyes but smirk as you reach them, tossing your tote bag onto a lounge chair. “Wow, what an honor,” you tease, adjusting your sheer black kimono. “Should I be flattered or slightly concerned?”

“Definitely flattered,” Jen winks. “We’re just appreciating the art, babe.”

Alice nods approvingly. “You look hotter than the sun right now. We might have to keep you under the shade before someone faints.”

You chuckle and glance at them. “Oh please, you guys look stunning yourselves,” you say, gesturing to their beach outfits.

Jen twirls her sunglasses between her fingers. “Yeah, yeah, but we’re used to it,” she says playfully. “Now, where’s the rest of the gang? Especially Agatha? I need to see if she actually followed the two-piece dress code.”

Lilia grins. “Or if she’s going full ‘governor mode’ with a whole-ass wetsuit.”

You snicker at the thought and glance toward the resort path, wondering when the two will show up.

You sat on one of the cabana chairs across from Lilia, stretching out your legs as the sun warmed your skin. The soft sound of waves crashing mixed with the faint chatter from nearby beachgoers, creating a relaxing atmosphere. Lilia adjusted her sunhat, sipping on her iced drink before looking over at you with a smirk.

"So... feeling refreshed after last night’s little adventure?" she teased, wiggling her brows.

You rolled your eyes but couldn't help the amused scoff that left your lips. "If by refreshed you mean mildly hungover, then yeah, sure."

Alice chuckled, leaning back on her chair. "At least you didn’t have to carry Wanda back to the villa. That girl gets way too affectionate when she’s tipsy. I think she tried to marry Jen at some point."

Jen, lounging beside Alice, grinned. "Hey, don’t blame her. I am a catch, after all. But too bad, I’m off the market."

The conversation flowed easily between you, filled with laughter and teasing as you all waited. The cabana provided some shade, but the heat was already creeping in, making you glad you had worn something breezy.

After some time, you heard approaching footsteps behind you. Before you could turn around, a hand lightly touched your shoulder.

"Morning," a familiar voice spoke.

You glanced up, finding Agatha standing beside you, the sun casting a glow over her figure. She was wearing a nautical blue and white floral O-ring swimsuit—a triangle halter top that accentuated her collarbones, high-waist bikini bottoms with sexy cutouts on both sides and a sarong. The effortless confidence she carried made you momentarily forget how to function.

Agatha glanced around before asking, "Where's Wanda?"

Lilia stretched her arms. "No clue. Probably on her way, maybe getting lost in the resort again."

Jen laughed. "Or flirting with the bartender from last night."

As they spoke, your gaze involuntarily traveled back to Agatha, taking in the way the bikini fit her perfectly. You quickly snapped out of it when Agatha turned toward you, arching an eyebrow as if she had caught you staring. Panicking slightly, you averted your gaze and cleared your throat.

"Uh, nice bikini," you muttered, intending to sound casual. Instead, it came out as more of a teasing remark. "Did you finally give up on covering up all the time?"

Agatha smirked, tapping your shoulder. "Don’t get used to it."

Before you could respond, she tilted her head. "By the way, you did bring the sunscreen, right?"

You reached into your tote bag with a smirk, pulling out the sunscreen. "Obviously. Someone has to be responsible."

Agatha shrugged, taking the bottle from you. "Not all of us have our lives together."

Alice snickered. "That’s a first. I thought governors had to be prepared for everything."

"I am," Agatha said, unscrewing the cap. "Just not for the sun apparently."

She walked over to sit beside Alice, squeezing sunscreen onto her palm before rubbing it over her arms, neck, and shoulders. You tried not to watch, but behind your sunglasses, it was impossible not to. Your gaze drifted lower as she smoothed the lotion over her legs, taking her time to make sure she was fully covered.

You swallowed, suddenly feeling like the sun got a little hotter.

A few minutes later, Agatha stood and walked back toward you, holding out the bottle. "Here, thanks."

You shook your head. "Keep it. I have another one anyway."

She hesitated for a second before giving you a small nod. "Appreciate it."

With that, she returned to her seat, and you exhaled, willing yourself to think of something—anything—other than how good she looked.

And just like that, the wait for Wanda continued.

After a few more minutes, Wanda finally arrived, slightly out of breath. You smirked, crossing your arms. "Wow, look who decided to join us. Got lost on the way or just fashionably late?"

Wanda huffed, flipping her damp hair over her shoulder. "I have a very valid reason."

Lilia raised a brow. "Oh, this should be good."

"I forgot my sunscreen and had to beg the front desk for one," Wanda admitted with a sheepish grin.

Jen rolled her eyes but waved a dismissive hand. "Whatever, you’re here now. That’s what matters. And since you made it, we can finally get this beach volleyball match going."

Alice gestured toward the net in front of the cabana. "That’s why it’s here. You didn’t think it was just for the aesthetic, did you?"

Wanda groaned. "Do we really have to? What if we just... tan and drink cocktails instead?"

"Nope!" Jen clapped her hands together. "Teams are set. Wanda, Lilia, and Alice versus me, Agatha, and Y/N. Let’s do this!"

With that, everyone stretched, tying their hair up in preparation. Sand shifted underfoot as each team took their respective sides, a competitive glint in their eyes.

Lilia stepped up first, tossing the ball in the air before serving it with a sharp hit over the net. You shifted into position, eyes locked on the ball.

Game on.

The game quickly heated up, each team refusing to back down. The ball flew back and forth over the net, sand kicking up with every swift movement. Sweat glistened under the sun as everyone gave it their all.

At one intense moment, Wanda spiked the ball hard, aiming straight for your team’s side. Agatha leaped up to block it, and at the same time, you lunged forward to do the exact same thing. Neither of you noticed the other’s movement until it was too late.

Bodies collided mid-air, and before you knew it, you were tumbling onto the sand. Hard.

You landed on your back with a thud, the impact jarring your head slightly. Agatha, having lost her balance in the chaos, fell right on top of you.

For a moment, everything stilled.

Your eyes snapped shut as you winced, a dull ache forming at the back of your head. The weight pressing down on you wasn’t helping either.

“Hey, are you okay?” Agatha’s voice was close—too close.

You blinked your eyes open, only to find yourself staring directly into hers. The proximity sent a jolt through your system, and for a brief second, neither of you moved. You swore you heard her breath hitch.

Then Jen’s voice cut through the moment. “Damn, that was a fall! You guys alright?”

Agatha blinked rapidly before pushing herself up, standing first. She hesitated for a split second before offering you her hand. You took it, letting her help you up before you both walked back to the cabana to sit down.

The rest of the group quickly followed.

Jen gestured toward Wanda and Alice. “Go grab some ice packs for Y/N’s head.”

They hurried off, returning a few minutes later with an ice pack, which they handed to you. You pressed it against the sore spot, sighing in relief. “Thanks.”

Agatha, sitting beside you, looked more worried than the others. Or maybe you were just imagining it. You had a tendency to overthink things when it came to her.

“You sure it’s not that bad?” she asked, voice quieter now.

You forced a small smile. “It’s bearable. I’ll live.”

The group let out relieved sighs, making sure you weren’t feeling dizzy or nauseous. You reassured them that it was just a bump.

After a few minutes of resting, you stretched and stood up. “I think I could really use some relaxation after that.”

Jen perked up. “Speaking of relaxation—we’re hitting the spa after lunch.”

Excited murmurs spread through the group, and you couldn’t help but grin. Wanda, however, groaned. “Can we eat first? I’m starving.”

Jen chuckled. “Yeah, yeah. But first—group photo for memory’s sake.”

“Oh, come on,” Wanda whined. “Can’t we just take a picture of the food instead?”

Lilia smirked. “Nope. You’re in it, Maximoff. No excuses.”

Alice playfully nudged you. “You better not make a weird face in this one. Last time, you looked like you were mid-sneeze.”

You rolled your eyes. “That was one time.”

Agatha adjusted her sunglasses and deadpanned, “And yet, it haunts me to this day.”

Groans and laughs mixed together, but everyone still posed anyway. Even if they wouldn’t admit it, this was a moment they wanted to remember.

Lunch at Nobu Malibu was nothing short of a spectacle—the sun shining down on the ocean, the faint sound of waves in the background, and a table full of laughter, teasing, and incredible food. The best part? You were all still in your bikinis, completely unfazed by the upscale setting.

Agatha sat directly across from you, eating her sushi with a grace that somehow made even a simple act like that look elegant. She sipped her wine slowly, the deep red of the liquid contrasting with the soft pink tint on her lips. You swore you could feel her gaze lingering when you weren’t looking, but every time you glanced up, she seemed entirely focused on her meal. Maybe it was just your imagination. Or maybe that fall during volleyball really did something to your head. Yeah. You probably needed an MRI, ASAP.

Deciding to ignore whatever weird feeling was creeping up inside you, you turned to the group, changing the topic. "So, about that volleyball game… I gotta say, Wanda, that spike was lethal. Almost took my head off."

Wanda smirked, twirling her chopsticks between her fingers. "Hey, all's fair in beach volleyball."

You turned to Alice next. "And Alice, your blocking was insane. It was like trying to get past a damn wall."

Alice grinned, giving a mock bow. "Years of dealing with my annoying brothers. Had to learn defense somehow."

"And Lilia, I don’t know how you kept diving for those saves, but respect," you continued. "You were all over the place."

Lilia flipped her hair dramatically. "What can I say? Some people were born to be effortlessly athletic."

You rolled your eyes before shifting your attention to Jen. "And then there’s our fearless leader, practically coaching us like this was the Olympics."

Jen laughed, raising her glass. "Hey, I take my team sports seriously. Someone had to keep you and Agatha from killing each other."

That earned a round of laughter from the group, and you smirked before turning your attention to Agatha. "Speaking of which—Mrs. Governor over here played like she had a national championship on the line. I swear, even I, her own teammate, was getting taken out in the crossfire."

The table erupted into laughter again, heads shaking in agreement.

Agatha, however, wasn’t one to take a hit without throwing one back. She leaned forward slightly, placing her glass down with an amused smirk. "Not my fault you kept getting in the way," she shot back. "I clearly had the ball if you hadn’t decided to throw yourself into my path like a human obstacle."

You scoffed. "Excuse me? I almost had the ball if you had just let me hit it instead of charging forward when your station was literally behind me." You pointed at her accusingly. "You were supposed to cover my back, not bulldoze into me."

Agatha raised a brow, her smirk widening. "Oh, so now you’re blaming me for your bad positioning?"

Your mouth dropped open as the group "Ooooh’d" in unison. "Bad positioning?! I was right where I was supposed to be! You were the one breaking formation!"

"Formation?" Agatha let out a laugh. "What is this, a military operation?"

The playful bickering continued, both of you leaning into the argument like you were in your own little world. The group watched in amusement as your voices overlapped, neither of you willing to back down. It was just like always—sharp remarks, teasing comebacks, and an underlying tension neither of you were willing to address.

Before the back-and-forth could escalate further, a waiter arrived at the table, placing a beautifully plated dessert in the center. The interruption pulled you both out of the moment, and you took the chance to get one last jab in.

"See? Even the waiter thinks we need to cool off," you teased, sitting back with a smug expression.

Agatha rolled her eyes, choosing not to respond, and instead picked up her wine glass again. But the way she exhaled through her nose—almost like a quiet laugh—didn’t go unnoticed.

The group, of course, wasn’t about to let this go. Jen smirked, shaking her head. "It’s funny how you two were all chummy last night, and now here you are, back to fighting like an old married couple."

Wanda grinned. "Yep. Classic."

You and Agatha both scoffed at the same time. "Please," you both muttered in unison.

That only made the group laugh harder.

Shrugging off their comments, you focused on the dessert in front of you, pretending not to notice the way Agatha’s lips quirked up slightly as she took another sip of her wine.

Yeah. Definitely an MRI.

After lunch, you and the group headed to the exclusive spa that Jen had raved about. Still in your bikinis—because why not?—you followed her inside, immediately greeted by the calming aroma of scented candles. The spacious reception area exuded tranquility, with soft instrumental music playing in the background and a hint of eucalyptus in the air.

Jen approached the receptionist, confirming the reservation while the rest of you took in the serene ambiance.

“This place is fancy as hell,” Wanda murmured, eyeing the luxurious decor.

“Right? I feel relaxed just standing here,” Lilia added, stretching her arms over her head.

The receptionist, a polished-looking woman with a warm smile, gestured for you all to follow her. “Welcome, ladies. We have your private area prepared. Let me show you to the locker room, where you can store your belongings and change into spa robes and sandals.”

She led you through a softly lit hallway to the locker room, where wooden lockers lined the walls, each with a neatly folded plush robe inside. As you placed your belongings inside, you couldn’t help but steal glances at Agatha, who was undoing the knot of her sarong. She caught your gaze briefly, but you quickly looked away, pretending to be focused on tying the sash of your robe.

With everyone changed, the receptionist guided you to your private spa space. As you stepped in, the setting was breathtaking—private cabanas with sheer curtains swayed in the breeze, lounge beds surrounded a tranquil Zen Garden with delicate water features, and a collection of heated massage tables were set up under a shaded pavilion. Private hot spring pools shimmered in the sunlight, and cozy hot tubs nestled in secluded corners offered a stunning oceanfront view.

“Holy shit,” Alice breathed out. “This is paradise.”

Jen grinned. “Told you it was worth it.”

The receptionist gestured toward a small refreshment table adorned with complementary drinks and a charcuterie board. “Please make yourselves comfortable. If you need anything, just ring the service bell.”

As she left, the group decided on their treatments.

“I’m getting the stone massage,” Jen announced. “I need every single one of my muscles realigned.”

“Same here,” Lilia agreed. “I’m practically made of knots at this point.”

Wanda hummed thoughtfully. “I think I’ll go for the Thai hot oil massage.”

“Me too,” you chimed in. “I need some serious tension release after that volleyball game.”

Alice turned to Agatha. “What about you?”

Agatha shrugged, already eyeing the steaming hot tub. “I think I’ll just soak for a while.”

Alice smirked. “Hot tub it is, then.”

With decisions made, everyone dispersed to their chosen relaxation spots. You watched as Agatha casually undid her robe, revealing her bikini again before stepping into the hot tub. She sank into the bubbling water with a content sigh, choosing a seat that directly faced where you stood.

Alice followed suit, settling in with her back turned toward you, chatting idly with Agatha. Your eyes, however, lingered on the governor a second too long.

She must have sensed it because her gaze flickered toward you. The moment your eyes met, you quickly looked away, pretending to adjust your robe as if you hadn’t just been blatantly staring. Your heart thumped slightly, but you ignored it.

Shaking off whatever weird feeling was creeping up, you removed your robe and laid down on the heated massage table. The masseuse approached, her voice soft as she asked if you were comfortable before beginning.

As soon as her hands started kneading your muscles, a deep sigh escaped you. The combination of the warm table and skilled hands working out the tension in your body sent you into a state of bliss. The distant sound of waves crashing, soft conversations from your friends, and the occasional hum of relaxation surrounded you.

You felt your limbs grow heavier, your breathing slowing. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you thought about Agatha, about the way she had been watching you—or maybe that was just in your head. Either way, the warmth of the massage lulled you deeper into relaxation, and before you knew it, your thoughts faded into nothingness as sleep overtook you.

You wake up, groggy and disoriented, unsure of how long you’ve been asleep. The warmth from the massage table still lingers against your skin, and for a moment, you just lay there, letting the soft hum of ocean waves and faint instrumental music from the spa speakers ground you.

Turning your head to the side, you find Wanda beside you, still fast asleep. Her face is buried in the cushioned table, her arms hanging lazily off the sides. A small snore escapes her lips, making you stifle a chuckle. Classic Wanda.

Slowly, you push yourself up into a sitting position, stretching out your stiff muscles. Your eyes wander across the spa space, taking in the serene atmosphere. The scent of essential oils and scented candles still lingers in the air, making it feel like you’re wrapped in a cocoon of tranquility.

Your gaze instinctively searches for Agatha. But she’s nowhere to be found.

Alice, on the other hand, is sitting comfortably in a massage chair, her head tilted back, face covered in a thick mud mask with two cucumber slices placed neatly over her closed eyes. She looks ridiculously peaceful, and you briefly consider taking a picture as blackmail material for later. You smirk to yourself but let her be.

Jen and Lilia are stretched out on their respective massage tables, talking in hushed voices. Jen glances over at you and smirks. “Look who finally decided to wake up.”

You run a hand through your hair and groan lightly. “How long was I out?”

Lilia checks the time on her smartwatch. “I’d say… at least an hour.”

You blink in surprise. “An hour?”

Jen chuckles. “Yup. Out cold. The masseuse even had to check if you were still breathing.”

You scoff. “Very funny.”

Lilia shrugs playfully. “Can you blame us? You looked like you melted into that table.”

You roll your eyes, but your mind drifts back to Agatha. She was here earlier, wasn’t she? You remember her sitting in the hot tub with Alice. But now she’s gone.

Trying to sound nonchalant, you ask, “Where’s Agatha?”

Jen raises a brow, an amused glint in her eyes, but she doesn’t comment on the specific way you asked that question. Instead, she nods toward the spa’s exit. “She left about fifteen minutes ago. Said she needed some fresh air.”

“Fresh air?” you echo, frowning slightly.

Lilia props herself up on her elbows. “Yeah, she just got up and walked off. Seemed kinda… I don’t know. Lost in thought?”

You hum in response, feeling an odd pull in your chest. Agatha, lost in thought? That’s not surprising, but still… something about it makes you curious.

Before you can dwell on it too much, Wanda stirs beside you, groaning dramatically. “Ugh… did I die?” she mumbles sleepily.

You laugh, pushing her shoulder lightly. “If you did, you’re still haunting us.”

She cracks one eye open. “Damn. Guess I’ll have to try harder next time.”

The group chuckles at her dramatics, and for a moment, the thought of Agatha slips to the back of your mind. But it lingers, faint and persistent, like an unfinished conversation waiting to be revisited.

You reach for a bottle of champagne on the small table beside you and pour yourself a glass, taking a slow sip. The coolness of the drink soothes your throat, but your mind is still elsewhere. Absentmindedly, you grab another glass and pour a second serving, an idea forming in your head.

“Where exactly did Agatha go?” you ask, already standing up and wrapping yourself in the plush spa robe.

Jen exchanges a knowing glance with Lilia before answering, “Probably the sauna. It’s outside, past the garden area.”

You nod. “Got it.”

With the second glass in hand, you step away from the group and make your way toward the sauna section, the warm wooden scent hitting you as you push open the door leading outside.

After a few minutes of walking, you finally find the sauna section. The warm, steamy air seeps through the wooden door frames as you approach. You start knocking on each private sauna room, waiting for a response. On the third try, you hear a familiar voice.

"Occupied," Agatha calls out, sounding completely uninterested.

You smirk to yourself. "It’s me."

There’s a brief silence before the door creaks open slightly, revealing Agatha’s flushed face, strands of her damp hair sticking to her forehead. She raises an eyebrow but steps aside to let you in. You walk inside and settle onto the wooden bench, handing her the extra glass of champagne you brought. She takes it with a nod of thanks, her fingers brushing lightly against yours as she does.

"Champagne in a sauna? How luxurious," she muses before taking a slow sip.

You sip your own drink, then glance at her with an amused grin. "First the hot tub, now the sauna. Are you trying to give yourself heat stroke?"

Agatha scoffs, tilting her head slightly. "I can handle a little heat. Unlike someone who melted into a massage table for an hour."

You roll your eyes. "It was relaxing. Sue me."

The familiar banter carries on, teasing remarks and quick-witted comebacks exchanged between sips of champagne. Agatha smirks after a particularly sharp remark from you, shaking her head as she leans back against the wooden bench. "You're impossible," she mutters, though there’s no real bite in her words.

"And yet, here you are. Stuck with me," you quip, taking another sip of your drink.

Agatha exhales a quiet chuckle, swirling the champagne in her glass before taking a slow, deliberate sip. But eventually, the playful exchange fades into a comfortable silence. The heat of the sauna wraps around you both, heavy and soothing. You close your eyes, letting it seep into your muscles, easing away the tension of the day. You take another slow sip, savoring the bubbles as they tingle against your tongue, the warmth of the alcohol mixing with the heat of the room.

When you finally open your eyes again, you catch Agatha staring at you.

She looks away immediately, feigning disinterest as she takes another sip of her drink. But the way she avoided your gaze felt… deliberate. Like she had been caught doing something she wasn’t supposed to.

Is there something on my face? you wonder. Or am I just imagining things? There was something about her look that you couldn’t quite place. Something unreadable. It left you confused, but you shrug it off and finish your champagne, setting the glass down beside you.

As soon as you close your eyes again, you swear you can feel her gaze on you once more. Or maybe… maybe you’re just going crazy.

A few minutes pass, and just as you’re about to fully relax, you feel a gentle pat on your thigh. The unexpected touch makes your breath hitch. You open your eyes, finding Agatha leaning in slightly—close, but not too close. Her voice is low, almost intimate in the quiet space.

"I’m heading out," she says.

For a second, you don’t respond. You’re still caught off guard by the warmth of her touch, even though it was fleeting. You blink, quickly regaining composure as she pulls away and stands up. You grab your glass and rise to your feet as well, following her out of the sauna.

When you both return, the group is fully awake now. Alice has wiped off her mud mask, and Wanda is sitting up, chatting with Jen and Lilia while they sip on cocktails. The spa’s atmosphere is dim now, the sun lowering on the horizon, painting the space in deep shades of amber. You realize just how much time you’ve spent here.

The group enjoys a few more drinks together, the conversation flowing easily as laughter fills the air. Lilia leans back with a content sigh, swirling the last of her drink in her glass. "I swear, I could stay here forever."

Jen chuckles, stretching her arms. "As tempting as that sounds, we’ve got another packed day tomorrow."

Wanda groans dramatically. "Ugh, do we have to wake up early? Because I feel like I need twelve hours of sleep after today."

"Try not to be late tomorrow, okay?" you tease, giving her a pointed look over your drink.

Wanda scoffs, rolling her eyes. "No promises."

Alice laughs, nudging her. "If we have to drag you out of bed, we will."

Agatha, who had been mostly quiet, glances at you before finishing her drink. "I’d pay to see that."

With one last round of chuckles, you all finally decide it’s time to leave. You head back to the locker room, changing out of your robes and gathering your belongings. As you step outside, the cool evening breeze hits your skin, a refreshing contrast to the sauna’s heat.

The group lingers for a moment, standing in the glow of the resort’s lights, the sound of the ocean faint in the background.

"Alright, see you all tomorrow," Jen says, smiling warmly. "And get some rest!"

With that, everyone parts ways, heading back to their respective villas, the night settling in over the resort.

After returning to your villa, you let out a deep sigh, feeling the exhaustion settle in after the long day. The first thing you do is take a shower, letting the warm water soothe your muscles. As the steam fills the bathroom, you try to shake off the lingering thoughts that have been swirling in your mind—especially the ones about Agatha.

Once you’re freshened up, you throw on a comfortable robe and sit down for a quiet dinner. The villa is peaceful, the distant sound of ocean waves creating a soft background hum. You eat slowly, scrolling through your phone absentmindedly, checking a few messages and liking a couple of posts before setting it aside. But even as you try to focus on your meal, your thoughts keep drifting.

After dinner, you settle at your desk and open your laptop, clicking through emails from your secretary regarding work updates. There’s a report that needs your review, and a couple of inquiries from investors. You skim through them, typing out quick responses, but your heart isn’t really in it. You’re just going through the motions, trying to distract yourself.

Once you’re done, you shut the laptop and lean back in your chair, rubbing your temples. The day should have worn you out enough to knock you out instantly, yet sleep feels impossible. You grab your phone, scrolling through social media again—anything to occupy your mind. But no matter how many posts you see, nothing really registers.

Eventually, you sigh and place your phone down on the nightstand. You turn off the lights, nestling into bed, and close your eyes.

And yet… you can’t sleep.

You know exactly why.

Agatha.

There was something about her today. Something that made you feel... off. The way she looked at you, the way her eyes lingered just a little too long. Or maybe you were imagining it. Maybe it was nothing. Maybe it was just you, overanalyzing things like you always do.

You groan quietly, turning onto your side.

Stop thinking about her. Just sleep.

You try to distract yourself, thinking about anything else—puppies, flowers, what you’ll eat for breakfast tomorrow. But your mind keeps drifting back to Agatha. Her voice, her teasing, the way she looked at you in the sauna… the way her breath hitched when your eyes locked after that fall during the volleyball game. The way you could sense her eyes on you at Nobu, lingering, watching, even as she sipped her wine—those moments weren’t nothing. Were they?

You let out a frustrated sigh, pulling the covers over your head. It’s going to be a long night.

Taglist: @6stolenangel9 @charlottelinlin1 @milflovers4 @claramelooo @loveshineslikethesky @kaymariesworld @marcelinaceciliarose @misskassycollins @greyella @theothersideofthescreen @whitelotus00 @agathaallalongg @psychickryptonitebouquet @sweetmidnights @angel-kitten-babygirl-u-choose @filmedbyharkness @brekker157 @rizzlesregal13 @starbucks-06

#agatha harkness x reader #agatha harkness x fem!reader #agatha harkness x you #agatha x reader #agatha x you #kathryn hahn x reader #agatha all along #agatha harkness #agatha harkness smut

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taliabhattwrites · 10 hours ago

Text

Here's a mini-version so I can go back to Sifu.

A lot of people have voiced confusion at the backlash against characters like Bridget being depicted as textually transfem, or the general drive to refuse to name the transfeminine body as a woman's body in erotic media. While my transhet friends have talked to me at length about how cis queer men's transmisogyny does manifest in this kind of degendering--and how they rationalize it by considering transition a sort of 'betrayal' of their community, as though trans women were simply trying to transition to greener pastures--I hope it's obvious to everyone that gay men alone cannot sustain this kind of pervasive cultural attitude. Especially when homophobia and transmisogyny are coterminous in patriarchal societies.

So why do men, in general, and even people of genders beyond 'man', insist on third-sexing the transfeminine body? Wouldn't it be preferable, more stable for a straight man and his identity to consume the eroticized transfem as a woman?

Well, if you don't have time to read the 10,000-word article I just linked--though you should, I worked quite hard on it--the shortest version possible I can give you is that the sexual consumption of third-sexed populations by men doesn't destabilize their gender or sexuality as much as you might think. Patriarchy has always had "fail-states", the faggotized, degendered, un-manned subject that cannot be allowed to consider itself a Woman, but is definitely something Lesser than a full-fledged Man.

Given that modern sexual mores are no less centered around penetration than they were in Roman times, men can freely engage in that form of intercourse with the third-sexed, transfeminized woman without having to name her as a woman, and without that being disruptive to his place in the gender heirarchy.

Once you understand that, you realize what the value of the transfeminized sexual object is to a man that wishes to use her as such. The un-womaned transfem is abject, highly precarious, vulnerable, disposable, a dehumanized creature whose entire purpose has been reduced to taking it, whether we mean "sex" or "violence" (and oftentimes, both). She has value in her utter devaluation, in her reduction to a place below the respectable, marriageable Woman that can be taken home, introduced to the parents, and exploited for reproductive labor. The third-sexed, degendered transfem is the Platonic ideal of a fuckable object that can be discarded.

And while some of you might be tempted to kinkpost about that, when we're not horny and are trying to navigate through the world as people, being seen in that way constantly is a very, very bad thing. It's what gets us hurled out of society and locked out of the formal economy, left to subsist or perish on the margins as we are able.

So people are very attached to the idea that their favorite porn category is just that--a 'shemale', a 'futa', a 'dickgirl', an 'otokonoko', a 'ladyboy'--any dehumanizing, degendering term that renders her neither man nor woman, but purely a sexual fantasy. The idea that this sex toy they wish to use could actually be considered a person, a woman, or even a trans woman, that horrid, 'woke', 'political' individual with multicolored hair and multivariate pronouns, feels existentially threatening.

"What do you mean, I've been fantasizing about exploiting a person this entire time? Fuck you!"

Anyway, this little piece has focused exclusively on men's relationship to transfemininity. Do people of other genders have similarly exploitative relationships to us, and a consequent desire to third-sex us?

In a word, yes, but you might have to wait for me to write more essays before I go into it. So look out for those in the future. Quick disclaimers: I've focused this writing on why transfeminine abjection is attractive to those who wish to consume us, but please do not misconstrue this me as saying that cis women are always considered 'people' or 'respectable' under patriarchy--this is very much not the case. I'm simply discussing this as a matter of degrees, where the transfem is more easily and utterly dehumanized due to her being constructed as both failed man, unable to sire, and failed woman, unable to gestate.

Furthermore, entire classes of cis women are also often reduced to this kind of degendered, exploitable state. Degendering is a broader force that is core to transmisogyny, but is not the entirety of transmisogyny, and more women than merely trans women are degendered.

Okay, NOW back to Sifu.

trap hentai now blatantly shows their "boys" with obvious hrt titties but still calls them boys whats up with that. back in my day they they were flat chested but now its "draw a trans woman and misgender her"

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aveli-li · 3 days ago

Note

HEADCANNONS OF GRAYSON X PREGNANT READER (ilysm😼)

Grayson and the Haven

warnings: established relationship, gender neutral reader, pregnant r!, pregnancy mentions, fluff, no smut, minors dni

a/n: LOVE YOU DOLLIE THANK YOU FOR THIS ASK I LOVED MAKING THIS AAAAA the baby fever this gave me is unbearable

♡ be prepared not to move a single finger.

♡ Grayson will not let you do anything that might take risk in the first months of the pregnancy, although you can perfectly do your chores just needing to add care to not force your body a lot, Grayson prefers to have you rested.

♡ If someone makes an offhand comment about your pregnancy or about you, she will make the person who they are talking to.

♡ Grayson will have to balance work with her personal life. It has been a great development since you two got together but since you are carrying her child she makes sure to come home earlier to have more time with you, and of course, checking you all the time.

♡ She understands how suffocating that might be and that you have your life and know how to take care of yourself, but please, this woman is protective by nature. It won't change her in such a vulnerable moment to leave you alone.

♡ She refuses and does rather not take risk quests and situations. Fearing her job could cause some harm to you and your baby, even in the future. If she has to go, she will take double care about it to not worry you and the baby about the mission and as soon as she returns she calls you to hear her voice and how things went well, or a bit tough but most important is that she is safe.

♡ The most lovely place in the world for her is next to you. Her muscled arm marking room for your head to rest, one hand caressing your hair and the other resting on your growing belly, she couldn't ask for anything better.

♡ He helps you build a nest to accommodate your belly once it grows bigger, and you found victory about the many pillows you wanted to buy that she found unnecessary. She helps you through your sleep, rubbing your back, caressing your belly, or massaging your sore legs and hips until you fall asleep again.

♡ Maybe, just maybe, for Grayson, the moment it all became true and realized that you were carrying her child was when she felt their first kick when she was baby talking to your belly. A late moment, but something on her switched, and she realized what she would become in a few months. She had a moment to process it, and couldn't believe that the baby gave this sort of signal when she talked to them.

♡ Grayson doesn't get emotional often, but since the thought of starting a family lightened up on her, you could see her emotional moreover. She doesn’t cry or have outbursts like you (and those damn hormones messing with your feelings), but she tears up in adoration, of finding someone that trusted her, and wanted to start a family with her.

♡ She has moments of doubt. You catch her staring at your belly, lost in thought, but your reassurance words saying that she will be a great mother eases her mind.

♡ And when the moment gets too tough for you, seeing your body changing so much over the weeks, Grayson pulls you into her lap and presses kisses all over your body, saying in a whisper and proudly how breathtaking you look.

♡ Buying clothes and the furniture was tiring but both agreed on the colors and decoration for the room. Grayson built everything, from the small wardrobe to the little crib, a teddy bear placed on the pillow that they will soon hold to sleep.

♡ Some nights, you find her in the baby's room, taking a moment to appreciate everything both are building together.

♡ A pillar of strength, respected by her peers, even feared by some. But with she's was something else, something softer. Grayson had all her love dedicated to you and only you. And now, for the little baby growing bigger every day.

☆ Small bonus, but imaging enforcer Grayon coming home to her pregnant partner, very housewife scenario aaa 🩷🩷

#﹒˚ ₊ ︵﹒bibi writes!#grayson arcane #arcane grayson #grayson #grayson x reader #grayson headcanons #grayson x you #arcane #arcane headcanon #arcane s1 #wlw #lesbian

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the-awful-falafel · 2 days ago

Text

Decided to share a megapost of my Fake Peppino relationship / character dynamic headcanons! Not comprehensive at all but should give a rough outline of my personal interpretation of things at least

PEPPINO:

Peppino and Fake Peppino's relationship is... deeply complicated lol

It's the focus of my brainrot (and utterly central to how I see Fake Peppino's postgame character development happening) so I won't quite get into all the progression and nuances here, but if I had to loosely summarize it, I'd say it's kind of a platonic slowburn "weird uncomfortable doppelganger housemate/employee" + enemies-to-trucies-to-uneasy-friendship situation. Lots of black comedy and ominous horror stuff too

More will be explained / shown off over time, hopefully!

GUSTAVO:

Gustavo generally seems tolerant or even oblivious to Fake Peppino's weirdness, although not to a Noisette extent

He doesn't get caught up in paranoia around Fake Peppino like Peppino does, although the odd behavior and comments the clone sometimes makes can be slightly unsettling

Gustavo casually calls Fake Peppino "Peppino" to be respectful (something that agitates real Peppino) and occasionally tries to encourage Peppino to do the same

Gustavo acts relatively friendly and encouraging to Fake Peppino-- believing in good faith that most of his behavior is harmlessly weird and that, if he's anything like the real Peppino, he could use a friend-- but he often feels out of his depth interacting with him for too long, so in practice it's more of a "cordial acquaintances" situation

Fake Peppino sees Gustavo as a nice friend/fellow chef, first as an extension of Peppino's relationship with him and then later more genuinely

Fake Peppino strongly appreciates Gustavo's penchant for adventure, and will often tag along Gustavo's adventures without asking and without warning when he's in the mood to forage for new ingredients or simply observe

BRICK:

Brick does not like Fake Peppino and she gets a bad vibe from him

Fake Peppino thinks the big rat looks delicious but politely holds off because he assumes that Gustavo is saving all that meat for himself

PEPPERMAN:

Pepperman is mostly face-blind towards humans and cannot tell Peppino and Fake Peppino apart unless they're side by side, and only then just barely

Pepperman somewhat admires the surrealism and ethical quandaries of Fake Peppino's existence, and rambles about it to him whenever he's around

Fake Peppino thinks Pepperman talks way too much and too fancily, and therefore tunes out at least 90% of what the pepper says

Fake Peppino has secretly stolen / borrowed paint from Pepperman before, and once or twice he brought over his weird Peppino caricature doodles to show him and get "art advice"

Fake Peppino has contemplated how Pepperman is an impressively big pepper, but there's no shortage of peppers back at the pizzeria, plus the smell of paint and ego kinda gets in the way

Fake Peppino is very pleased whenever Pepperman confuses him with Peppino

THE VIGILANTE:

Vigilante has only met Fake Peppino a handful of times and doesn't have a lot of knowledge of him or a strong opinion on him, thinking that he seems strange but friendly enough

Later on, Vigilante's opinion skews more pessimistic and he views Fake Peppino's creation as another one of Pizzahead's crimes that he must be held accountable for

Fake Peppino thinks the "cowboy cheese" is nice and helpful for giving him directions in the tower at one point, even though he finds his arsenal of guns and gruff demeanor slightly off-putting

Vigilante is the most likely of the bosses to go missing if there's a cheese supply shortage

Vigilante is also the most likely of the bosses to teach Fake Peppino what a flamethrower is

THE NOISE:

Noise finds Fake Peppino hilarious, seeing him as a total freakshow that mocks Peppino just by existing and being generally absurd

Noise would occasionally visit Fake Peppino in the tower alongside Noisette, mostly to just gawk and encourage the weirdo to do food crimes

Because of this, Noise also doesn't take Fake Peppino seriously-- an approach that has backfired on him a couple times, although he stubbornly refuses to learn. (Noise is good at using intimidation and startling loud noises in a pinch, but it never scares off Fake Peppino permanently)

Noise, when possible, likes to encourage Fake Peppino's general chaos and torment of Peppino, although it's just as likely to get thrown back in his face

Fake Peppino generally likes Noise because he sees him as one of his first regular customers alongside Noisette

However, Fake Peppino doesn't like how evasive Noise is at actually eating the complicated "pizzas" he orders, so he's increasingly determined to get Noise to eat one of his pizzas someday, even if it requires coercive methods

Fake Peppino can be unexpectedly passive-aggressive towards Noise when Noise is being more of a rude asshole than usual, although it's more in a playfully antagonistic sort of way... maybe

Fake Peppino was very confused by the whole NTV movie situation and went off-script a little too much for Noise's liking, but Fake Peppino still went along with it and got paid via expensive pizza ingredients afterwards (money was not enticing enough for him, for some reason)

NOISETTE

Noisette sees Fake Peppino as a funny guy and close friend, sharing both a goofiness and love for making dubiously edible food, and she is thoroughly immune to / oblivious of the horrors

She befriended him back in the tower via getting lost and obliviously stumbling into Peppino's Pizza 2, and her ditzy friendliness, utter lack of fear or acknowledgement of red flags, and promise to visit again led to a much more positive (and safer) interaction than all the previous customers had

Noisette's repeat visits were both because she genuinely found his pizzas "interesting" (... despite the fact they kept giving her violent short-term food poisoning, she assumed it was part of the Italian food experience and she thinks it's important to encourage his creativity) and because she was worried he was lonely, working so hard in his secluded restaurant all the time

Noisette always calls Fake Peppino "Peppino" and wholeheartedly affirms his identity

Noisette's overt tolerance and obliviousness of the horrors is not always a good thing and can lead to her enabling Fake Peppino's more dangerous and maladaptive behavior

Fake Peppino sees Noisette as his first and favorite regular customer, and he'd consider her his first friend too, although the lines between friend and customer are very blurry in Fake Peppino's mind

Fake Peppino visits Noisette on rare occasions (rather than the more common other way around), both because he enjoys her company and because he thinks studying her likes/dislikes up close and integrating them into his pizzas is key to maintaining her patronage

Fake Peppino will play party games and board games with Noisette and Noise when she offers, but he's kinda inattentive and doesn't follow the rules (it's okay because half of the rules Noisette makes up / doesn't care about either, and Noise cheats)

GEROME:

Gerome doesn't interact with Fake Peppino much, and when he does, he mostly just regards him with either vague interest or pity

Gerome is aware of the cloning lab and Fake Peppino's true nature/purpose, and has had a lot of experience with his brother's clones-- as a result, Gerome is pessimistic about the Fake Peppino's ability or willingness to change from what he is

Fake Peppino sees Gerome as the small stone man who sleeps all the time, and is interested by his janitorial work, but otherwise doesn't have much of an opinion on him either

PILLAR JOHN

John regards Fake Peppino with a similar sort of pity as Gerome does, although it mostly leads to him expressing sympathy and solidarity towards Peppino over both of them being cloned by Pizzahead and having awkward interactions with said clones after the tower collapsed

Fake Peppino doesn't really know John, but he was warned extensively to never touch the pillars holding up each level gate, no matter how tempting it may be to kick one over

Fake Peppino still follows this rule after the events of the game, even though this pillar is now walking around, but his curiosity will probably get the best of him one of these days

PIZZAFACE

Pizzaface has no opinion on Fake Peppino because he's a (secret) robot/mech whose autopilot AI is quite basic and limited-- he's obedient/loyal to Pizzahead and nobody else

Fake Peppino doesn't understand why you would make a pizza that isn't for eating

PIZZAHEAD

Pizzahead is directly responsible for creating Fake Peppino along with all the other clones, and even though the results didn't match his original "Better Peppino" design concept 1:1, he doesn't care and doesn't see it as a failure at all-- he thinks it's much funnier and more entertaining this way

Pizzahead doesn't really perceive Fake Peppino as a person or sapient entity deserving respect -- he sees Fake Peppino more like a fun new custom-built toy, guard monster, and walking punchline of a joke at Peppino's expense, all rolled into one

Pizzahead doesn't openly mistreat Fake Peppino, necessarily-- he's goofy and irreverent towards him for the most part, just like how he acts towards most other people-- but he certainly exploits and manipulates certain aspects of Fake Peppino's behavior for his own amusement, and saw leaving Fake Peppino on the fourth floor with minimal safeguards as the funniest possible thing to do with him. Look and watch the weird freak go! Wooooo!

Pizzahead is very affirming and encouraging of Fake Peppino believing himself to be really Peppino, mostly to better exploit/manipulate his behavior and to better egg on his established aggression towards "other Peppinos" in preparation for him being sicced on the real Peppino

Pizzahead's inability to take anything seriously extends to even the most bizarre, horrific, and dangerous of his creations, in a way that would probably backfire if it weren't for his power and cartoonish immunity

Pizzahead probably would have gotten bored of and abandoned Fake Peppino at some point if Peppino hadn't destroyed the tower

After the events of the game, Pizzahead is surprised by Fake Peppino's reduced aggression towards Peppino and has attempted to sneakily exploit Fake Peppino's behavior once more to see if he can generate any more funny conflict, but it's not very effective as Fake Peppino has already formed his own ambiguous goals and doesn't really have a reason to listen to Pizzahead anymore-- although he still cheerfully takes the "advice" into consideration

Fake Peppino doesn't know that Pizzahead is responsible for his existence, nor is he aware he was even created in the first place. (Fake Peppino would not believe Pizzahead if he told him, either)

Fake Peppino likes and respects Pizzahead as the tower's owner who pulled him out of the laboratory and gifted him important advice and a restaurant free of charge, but Fake Peppino is otherwise somewhat ambivalent and isn't even particularly loyal to the pizza, instead being obsessed with working the restaurant and working hard at being Peppino

Fake Peppino doesn't quite like Pizzahead's tendency to cartoon-logic grab and deposit him in new locations at random, as he (usually) dislikes being grabbed or touched and Pizzahead doesn't have much regard for his personal space, but it thankfully doesn't happen often enough for it to be a major concern, just an uneasy irritation

Fake Peppino is very curious about what Pizzahead's pizza head tastes like and has attempted to bite it off twice, to no success and Pizzahead barely acknowledging it aside from casually clamping Fake Peppino's jaws shut / sidestepping it and causing Fake Peppino to faceplant

#pizza tower #headcanons #fake peppino #peppino spaghetti #gustavo #brick the rat #pepperman #the vigilante #the noise #noisette #gerome #pillar john #pizzaface #pizzahead #long post

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orchidyoonkook · 2 days ago

Text

LASTONELASTONE!! I did it! and within the promised time frame too, look at me go! (Im taking any wins atm, please dont mind me)

ONTO!

why am i sobbing right now 😭😭😭😭 this was so fluffy this hang out ahhhhhh yoon it was adorable 😩😩🥺🥺🥹😭🥹😭🥹😭🥹

I love them i love them i love them. I LOVE THEM. I love how easy they are with one another, how effortless and thoughtless and easy.

oc and jungkook literally have my heart at this point i mean i am speechless the fact that she made this so special for him and he was looking out for her during the exams and the freaking gift i can't stop sobbing 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

One thing about OC is that if she can create some solstice magic for somebody, she absolutely will. She's like me in the sense that she thinks holidays should be celebrated for their true intentions, and that no one should be denied that magic.

I love that he can't help it either, like it physically pains him to see her like that so he's compelled to help. He's such a good man, that JK.

THE GIFFFFFFFFFTTTTTTT. OH I WAS SO STOKED FOR THAT. I love that he did it, I love the thought that went into it. That he noticed she has older brushes, 'lower' (but still good) quality brushes, brushes that look like theyve been used to much, and he used that information and just automatically decided that her passions and talent deserved the best instead of the best she could get herself. That he didn't think twice about the price of the gift because money has never been an issue for him, but he thought about the gifts impact and how it could help her achieve her dreams.

i think about his gift versus her unintentional on and their contrast a lot. I really enjoyed writing them.

so it was a mix of sobs turns blushes because of that muscle use talk hey (what a switch up)

sobbing and blushing with you!

And I like a lil spice with my fluff, what can I say. Balance is nice. I also like the natual growth of conversation, in a way that's expressed with a game of wits that turns into more trust and respect by the end of it. That's a complicated sentence, I hope that makes sense. XD

but omg the tree and the star (yoon how adorable you actually make those i love it that little add you did there)

I did! second year of college yoon wanted a christmas tree in her dorm real bad, so she went to her local dollarstore and got a little one and little baubles to match. But they didnt have tree toppers! So i took a cereal box out of my recycling bin, cut out a star, glued tin foil to the bitch and put'er on top of my baby tree. I still have and use it to this day. She remains super cute and festive.

and they are hugging now look it's one step closer to a kiss i will take it

I personally find hugs to be more intimate and passionate then kissing when done within the right context. A kiss? you can kiss anyone and have it mean nothing. But a hug? To be held? An embrace where you just hold another person because of the emotions your feeling can only be expressed tactiley like that? Hits different for me.

i can't get over how fluffy and homey this was and with the bodyguard too it just captured my heart i love this chapter it's definitely in my top 10 PJK moments (basically it's every interaction they have that's why it's 10 you get it) 🥹

THE GUARDS. MY BABIES. I love the guards, I love their positive masculine energy, I love that JK has them, and I love that they like OC. He's a little brother almost to most of them, they're the kind of older brothers who clearly aren't afraid to give their little bro shit, but are also his biggest cheerleaders when it counts. I just. I love my guards. I was so excited to introduce them finally.

holy shit top ten!!!!!! I'm honoured, flattered and in dire need of that list in ranked order so we can geek out together. (also so i can compare the current list to the list when the series if finished.)

(also also that is of course, not a request, only a "if you ever wanted to do so, I would be more than willing to read and geek")

and now they won't see each other over solstice i wonder how that's going to go i just know the texts are not gonna stop flowing i can not wait to see why happens in chapter 10

Chapter ten is currently 13.1k. :)

And in a slightly different format. But only slightly. You'll see what I mean when it's released <3

yoon please give a spoiler like a minor one okay give us a line a quote something please 🥹🖤

👀👀👀👀

Picasso [3:24pm]: Hey, if I wanted to mail you something while ur home, how would I do that??

👀👀👀👀

yoon you know i adore you and seeing how you have grown as a writer is the most beautiful thing and i just know you are going to do so many more great things i want you know i am here always and i adore you, your happiness means the world to me and i hope you are smiling and your days are filled with happiness - kiki 🖤

You know? I thought it was raining from how wet my face and clothes were, but it was actually just the ocean of tears this just made me shed in a downpour.

I can never, and will never be able to tell you how important reviews and humans like you are to me in particular, but to writers and creatives out there who do what I do. There is no us without you. I will say it in every. single. review. you write me, but you and folks like you are the reason fic and fic community stays alive, and I can never thank you enough for it. I'm so thankful and grateful for your constant and unwavering support, and for being on this wild writing ride with me as I grow with it.

I hope I can keep up the consistency of the writing style, and only improve as I go, as well as not screw up this story you love so dearly. I promise to try my best.

I am absolutely smilling and filled with happiness. I hope you are the same <3

Xo, Yoon

To What We Were Before, And All The Things After | JJK | Ch. 9

Title: Sugar Cookies and Devious Confessions

Pairing: Prince!College Student!JK x Fine Arts Major!(F)!Reader

Series Rating//Genre: (M) | College AU, Mild Royalty AU, Smut, Angst, Fluff, S2F2L, Indiffernce to lovers, sloooowwww ass burn

Summary: Exams season and Solstice? Consider YN locked in, loaded, ready to go, hangry, and sentimental. Jungkook is just along for the ride with a hefty side of acts of service, quality time and physical touch are his love languages. Who'da thunk?

Warnings: T, language, fluff, so much fluff actually, I've surprised myself, semi-sexual conversations, JK is a menace but Reader can keep up...mostly, touch of angst tbh, reader gets hangry and is bad at taking care of herself sometimes, but apologises and makes up for it, mostly just wholesome this time. And fun!

Word Count: 6,675

Release Date: December 8, 2024. 12:30PM

A/N 1: Hiiiiiiiiiiii. It's here, thank you to those who reminded me. I literally would have forgotten for the third week in a row without them. I love you all.

A/N 1.5: Chapter ten will be coming sometime between Dec 20th-30th as it is festive and that's all I will say about it.

Jungkook’s learned many things about you since your friendship started.

From your favourite colours to your favourite brush to paint with. He learned that you are always team morally gray love interest in the books you read in your limited spare time, although that one was learned a little against your will.

He’d wanted to know why you always went for them, and very begrudgingly you admitted you found it appealing when they’d do anything to protect the main character. That they always did what they thought was best or what needed to be done despite their sad backstory, because for some reason, they all had sad backstories.

Every. Single. One of them.

And you claimed it suckered you in every time.

But through all of your time spent together—specifically during midterms—Jungkook learned just how much you ignore all of your basic needs as a human being when it comes to exams season.

How you’ll forget to eat all day in favour of studying, or staying up late to finish your practical exam projects, making absolutely sure they’re up to your impossibly high standards, disregarding sleep.

So it doesn’t surprise him when he turns the corner to the greenhouse cafe to see you, thinner than normal with bags under your eyes, slaving away at something on your computer.

He hates that he can tell you’ve lost weight through your winter clothing.

You look up, briefly smiling in greeting. He can tell just from how long it took you to notice him that you need a break, a good healthy meal and some sleep.

He smiles back, but bypasses you and walks straight into the cafe. You don’t think twice about it, already knowing what he’s doing.

“Hey Vivian,” he says to the barista.

“Hey JK, the regular?” She's restocking some cups and lids to the counter.

“Please, but tag on a hot chocolate for YN and some tarts.” Vivian nods, typing the order into the cashing system, very much used to either of you adding on each other's order to your own at this point.

“Machines ready for you,” she says, already prepping the first drink—his by the looks of it.

Jungkook pays and waits patiently, watching you from the window.

“How long’s she been here?” he asks over the currently frothing milk—that’s for your hot chocolate.

“Since seven. She grabbed a tea and hasn’t moved since.”

It’s almost 1:30 now, and Viv looks at him knowingly. She’s watched you do this to yourself every mid-term and exam season since you started.

“Ah. I see.” He purses his lips.

It’s only a few minutes before the drinks and tarts are ready. Jungkook grabs them and heads out the door, calling a thank you over his shoulder.

“Okay look,” he says to grab your attention as he stands directly in front of you. The act of walking to the front of you alone clearly not enough to gain it.

Looking up, your eyes widen in glee at the treats he carries. You attempt to reach for them but he pulls them back.

“Nuh uh, you need food.”

You look at him confused. “Those are food.”

“No, these are the reward. You need a meal.”

You try to interrupt him. Most likely to say you do eat meals, but instant ramen or a box of mac'n'cheese do not count, and he cuts you off before you can. “A healthy meal, Picasso, something to give your body nourishment and energy. One that fills you up.”

You scowl at him.

“But–”

“No buts,” he cuts you off again. “Healthy food. Full, happy belly food,” he says, gently patting his stomach so not as to spill his drink. “Pack up, we’re going to the cafeteria and getting you some.”

“But–”

“Y/N,” he says sternly, giving you a look that says he will not be budging on this, and that if you refuse, he’s going to throw you over his shoulder to ensure it happens.

It was the voice of a future King, he thinks. Then internally shudders. That’s not who he is with you, but he can admit that sometimes this side of him comes in handy during times like these.

“Fine.” You snip, very clearly not happy about this.

Fortunately, you don’t seem to have any art supplies with you today, just your computer, a notepad and pencil case. You gather them quickly, throwing them into your backpack with an annoyed look because you don’t want to stop, but he’s forcing your hand.

He doesn’t care. You need this, and it’s clear as hell you were not going to do it on your own.

You were so fucking stubborn sometimes.

His mask, hat and baggy shirt combo mixed with some large combat boots and a slight slouch in posture has worked wonders disguising him from the public so far. In fact, he’s pretty sure it intimidates some people seeing as how they nearly jump out of his way. You’ve joked about it before, calling it his ‘scary dog privilege’…whatever that meant.

Jungkook doesn’t mind, though. Despite being four months into the school year, and his speech at the beginning, people still fawn and stare at him. Trying to get his attention, his approval. Anything to get something from him, even if it’s just a look in their direction.

He wonders if it will ever die down, if it'll ever go away. Or if with new freshmen every year, a new horde of people will seek him out.

So, he’s grateful that with this little disguise on, no one bats an eye at him as you two walk the fifteen minutes it takes to get across campus to the cafeteria. He knows you’re more than mentally drained, because you’re not checking over your shoulder every few seconds to make sure no one realizes you’re with him like you usually do.

You enter the main building, luckily the cafeteria on the ground floor, just near the back. Once there, you walk straight to the fridge of premade to-go foods. Grabbing a fruit cup, a chicken caesar salad, and a container of mixed vegetables with dip, you turn to him.

“Is this good enough for you?” you snark.

“Yep, great choices,” he says, ignoring your tone. “Very healthy and nutritious. Plus you nearly have all the food groups.”

“I do have all the food groups,” you say back, deadpan.

Wow…

You really need some sleep, he’s never heard you sound so lifeless. Or mean. You’re only ever truly mean when you’re beyond exhausted, too tired to care.

He’d say your mood and overall vibe is like a mixture of brown and gray, but he knows if he said it out loud you’d make him specify which specific shades of brown and gray, so he keeps the thought to himself. Both not to provoke you and to be polite.

“You’re missing dairy and grain,” he says.

You point to his hands holding the tarts and drink.

“Fair point,” he concedes, and trails you to the register, grabbing a protein shake from a nearby fridge on the way. His card is out and paying before you can reach for your wallet and you accept it, even too worn out to yell at him for buying you something.

Hot chocolate and the occasional bag of tarts you're fine with, because half the time you’re also buying him his coffee and sharing your tarts, so you see it as a fair trade. But anything outside those and you damn near throw a fit, claiming you don’t need him to spend his money on you.

You never want anything from him, so unlike everyone else in his life.

He leads you to a more private booth in the corner, scary dog privilege in full effect as no one dares stand in his way, and you very unceremoniously plop down, sluggishly shucking off your bag and coat.

Definitely a brownish-gray.

You two eat and drink in silence; you, slowly picking away at your food, him, finishing his drink then eating the vegetables from the container you don’t like. It’s a peaceful silence, contented as your mood gradually improves and some colour returns to your face the more you get into your system.

The sight relieves him.

“Sorry,” you say, eyes glued to the table, unable to look at him. And he knows it’s for the way you treated him pre-food.

“No worries,” he replies. “Feeling better?”

“Yeah.”

“Good. That's good.”

Jungkook wasn’t going to push, but now that your mood’s improving, he hopes it’s safe to.

“Hey,” you look up at him, the bags under your eyes more evident under the artificial light and his heart breaks a little at the sight. “Promise me you’ll get some sleep tonight?”

A small close lipped smile finds your face, eyes soft, appreciative. The corner of his own lifts to match.

“I promise I’ll try.”

You fall asleep early that night, 9pm.

You don’t know what allows you to, but your exam worries fade and assignment anxiety slips from your mind the heavier your eyes grow. In the back of your head however, a thought slips through your defenses; you know it’s because of the look in Jungkook's eyes when he’d asked you too.

The one of worry—genuine worry—for you.

You hate yourself for causing it. You never want him to have to worry about you, god…he already has so much on his plate, you don’t want to add to it.

But mostly…

But mostly you let yourself succumb to slumber because you don’t want to disappoint him.

He asked you so kindly, and you know he had your best interests at heart when he did. He always does.

You don’t have it in you to deny him that simple favour. To take care of yourself a little better.

So you sleep, just this once. For him. To help relieve him of the stress you caused.

And you know that that thought is what lets you until 10am the next day.

You feel better than you have in weeks.

You have everything you could possibly need to make all the recipes you have planned for today. Eggs, flour, sugar, soju, cutters, extracts, ginger, honey, chocolate chips, food colouring, some fruit concentrates and more are stuffed into the bags that dangle from your now struggling arms. There’s also another much lighter bag filled with a surprise for him that sits near the crook of your elbow.

Jungkook’s not going to know what hit him.

The door clicks open and you watch his eyes nearly leave his skull before he reaches to take them from you.

“Oh wow, you really weren’t kidding were you,” he says as he takes them to the kitchen with ease.

Stupid muscles, you think, but the thought doesn’t hold for too long, glad at having your arm circulation back.

“Solstice cookies are no joke in my house,” you say, following him.

“Clearly.”

He starts taking things out of the bags and you grab the one with the surprise in it before he can get to it.

“Won’t we need that?” he asks.

“Yes, but it’s not for cookies,” you start backing away towards the living room, bag behind your back. “It’s a surprise.”

Jungkook has a goofy grin plastered on his face as he follows you, and you put one on to match.

You stand in front of the coffee table and order him to sit and close his eyes, a sarcastic ‘yes ma’am’ comes from his lips, but he does as told.

You set the contents of the bag on the coffee table; a small fake tree with built in lights, some tiny baubles in a box, a star, a polaroid camera and a custom, empty ornament.

“Okay, open!”

Jungkook opens his eyes and the same goofy grin returns, but this time there’s a sparkle in his eyes that you’ve never seen before.

His voice is gentle and lovely when he asks, “What’s all this Picasso?”

“Your very own tree to decorate. We have lights, decorations, even a star for the top,” you say as he leans and picks up the star. “You said you didn’t really celebrate anymore so I wanted to bring some celebration back to you—if you wanted to, that is.”

He twirls the star in his hand, smile never leaving, as he inspects it closer. “Did you make this?”

You turn sheepish. “Ah… yeah. They don’t really sell mini toppers for the mini trees, just the baubles, so that guy’s made from the finest cereal box cardboard and tinfoil on the market.”

He just stares, at the star, at the tree, then to you. You can’t tell if you screwed up or not. Did he hate this?

But then he’s standing and you’re in his arms as he hugs you.

You freeze, unsure of what to do for a second, before you let your arms go around him, hugging him back.

He’s solid, you can feel the strength in him as he breathes, and the weight in his arms as they hold you.

But also warm. So warm your cheeks start to heat to match the rest of your body that seems to be on fire.

It ends before it barely started, and you find yourself missing him the second he’s gone.

“Sorry,” he says, shaking his head as if not realizing what he’d just done until after he stopped. You want to tell him it was okay, but he says, “thank you,” immediately after, and squats down to open the baubles.

“You’re welcome,” you say as you watch, sitting down on the couch. He looks like a kid, the brightest of smiles on his face as he goes to place the first one, but pauses, and hands it to you.

“You know better than me where to start.”

You giggle, placing the red sphere near the middle, and gesture for him to put on the next one. It continues like this until the box is empty, you then him, then you then him. He places the last ornament and looks to you, star in hand.

“You do it,” you say. You’ve done this a million times with your mum, you doubt he’s done the same.

He carefully grabs the top branch that sticks up, placing the star over it. Your heart swells at how gentle he is with your handmade decoration.

“Now the last step,” you say, as you reach for the camera. This was your favourite tradition with your mother, the yearly solstice picture. You have one from every single year after you were born, and even one with you in your mum’s belly.

“Turn around,” you say, spinning your finger and he does, you follow.

You’re both on the ground in front of the tree, and you lift the camera, leaning into him. Still so warm. He leans right back.

“Say 'Solstice!'” you call out, and smile.

“Solstice,” he says with you as you snap the picture.

You pause for a moment, making sure the image is done capturing before leaning away again.

The image prints out, and you take hold of it, shaking so it develops faster.

“Can you get some scissors, and a permanent marker?” you ask Jungkook. He leaves for only a moment, returning from the kitchen, scissors and marker in hand.

You reach for the empty, custom ornament. It’s a camera, and where the lens would be is a spot for a picture. Cutting the polaroid to fit, you slide it in, and write solstice followed by the year on the back of the ornament. You put it in the middle of the tree, letting the baubles frame it.

You don’t see Jungkook watching you do all of this, a look in his eye that would melt you if you saw.

“And now for the magic,” you say, turning on the built-in lights. The tree twinkles as the little LEDs reflect off baubles, like stars on a clear night winking at one another.

You're too busy looking at the tree when you hear a click. Following the sound you see Jungkook, polaroid camera in hand, lens facing you. The image pops out and he grabs it, placing it on the coffee table beside the tree.

“Aren't you supposed to shake it?” you ask.

He looks purely serene as he responds. “Nah, polaroids have chemicals and dyes layered in them, so if you shake them you can get microbubbles or marks on them.”

You didn’t know that, but it doesn’t surprise you in the slightest that he does. His talent for photography, a result of years of study and practice.

“Oh, good to know,” you say as you take the camera from him, and direct him to look at the tree. You snap a picture to match your own, placing it on the table beside the one he took.

He stays sat there, staring at the tree for a while, the occasional flit towards you before the tree once again.

“It’s perfect,” Jungkook says, breaking the comfortable silence. He clears his throat before adding. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

You don’t know what else to say besides that, but you can see the happiness in his eyes. Their glow. Their warmth.

You don’t think you need to say more.

He knows.

Time is quickly passing, and you have five recipes to get through today. So as much as you find yourself not wanting to move, perfectly happy sitting here with him for the rest of the day in this beautiful silence, you can’t. The tree is only the beginning of your day together.

“Cookie time?” you ask.

Jungkook looks to you and takes a deep breath, as if he was also content to stay where you were for the day.

Just you, him and the tree.

“Cookie time.”

“You bitch!” you say as flour flies from his hand to your cheek.

You were three and a half recipes in, having made two easier recipes first to ease him into a more difficult one. Shortbread, maejakgwa, and gingerbread now sit around in tupperware and cooling sheets around the apartment.

But because of that, Jungkook is slowly losing all seriousness as you retrieve the sugar cookie dough from his fridge. It was actually the first thing you’d made, knowing it had to chill for a while beforehand, hence the three and a half.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says, all knowing smirk plastered on his face like a neon billboard.

You refuse to sink to his childish levels, and remove the beautifully chilled dough from its refrigerator bowl. Wiping your face with a cloth to clean yourself of the flour, you order him over.

“Come use all your unnecessary muscles to roll this out, quarter inch thick,” holding out the rolling pin to him. The smirk lessons only slightly, but he does as told.

“All my muscles are unnecessary, huh?” he says after a minute of rolling. You’re by the sink washing some dishes as he does and you can all but physically see the egging in his voice.

“Yes.”

“And why’s that?” He asks as he finishes rolling out the dough and begins on his cookie cutter decisions. You’ve learned he’s particular about which one’s he wants to use for which type of cookie.

“Because you have like a million eight foot tall, 450 pound security guards following your every move at all times,” you say, as if this was obvious. In reality, it was a solid team of six guards who were at their tallest 6 '4, and maybe 285 at their heaviest.

Admittedly, they were all really nice guys, having met them numerous times over the months. And you were planning on stealing some of the cookies from today to give them little solstice bags.

Jungkook’s never going to be able to eat them all by himself anyway…you think. And even if he could, he really shouldn’t.

“So, because I have security guards,” he looks at you unbelievingly, “my muscles are unnecessary?”

“Yes. Why have them if you don’t need them?” At this point you’re just teasing him.

“Lots of reasons,” and he starts listing as you continue to clean. “They look nice, but that's obvious.”

“I’m sure your groupies don’t mind that at all,” you sneak in under your breath, referring to his enormous, and rather lewd mouthed female following on social media.

“Hey, you leave my groupies out of this, they’re nice people,” he says, pointing a white powdered finger. You scoff and go back to the dishes mumbling something about how they feed his ego.

“There’s also the fact that I like being strong. I like that I don’t get winded from jogging up the stairs, and I like that I have the ability to help damsels who show up at my place with their arms full of far too many heavy bags.”

You shoot him a glare and he laughs. “You can’t say I’m wrong.”

You also don’t have to acknowledge that comment.

He takes it as a win in your ever ongoing battle of wits. And just to try and even out the playing field a little more, as you are currently winning by a landslide, he adds on a little more to his answer, hopefully one you’re not expecting, and therefore winning by shock factor.

“There’s other reasons too, but those are a lot less PG, to say the least.”

He—

Your hands pause their ministrations for mere seconds before continuing.

How did he say it so…casually!?

Like he didn’t essentially just tell you he likes being strong for bedroom purposes. A topic you’ve never been anywhere near speaking to him about, and he just… brings it up like that? So cryptically as if he wants you to ask for clarification.

And you do want clarification, damn him!

You hate that it makes you curious. Hate. It.

You like knowing things, not to be nosey, but because you like the mental safety it brings. When you and Nel first started having sex you did a deep dive on everything you could, to make sure nothing was a surprise and that you didn’t hurt yourself or him if you tried anything new.

Little did you know half of the research was for nothing. Nel has never been the most sexually adventurous person, whereas you wanted to try out new things, explore, see what you like via trial and error, he was fine with good ole missionary and a handful of other basic positions.

What you two do now works though. And that’s what counts. Compromise. Overcome. Enjoy and respect each other's boundaries.

But it makes you wonder if Jungkook knows anything you don’t.

That reason alone is apparently enough for you to hear, “Like what?” leave your lips before you can stop it. And you internally freak.

What the fuck! You did not just ask him that.

That did not just come out of your mouth.

You did not jus-

“You really wanna know?” he asks, eyeing you over his shoulder with a single quirked brow, like he can’t believe you said it either, but he’ll dish you if you want him too.

How interesting. You don’t remember gaining this level of trust from him, to be honest about something so personal. So private.

You wonder when that happened.

No, you say in your mind. But your head is gingerly nodding yes.

Stop that! You think to your body, betraying you once again.

Jungkook hums before picking up a cutter, a simple circle.

“Well,” he punctuates the word with a cutter punch. “Uhh…there’s a certain level of—” a punch, “—power dynamic I prefer having, and they definitely help with that,” another cutter punch. “I also like being able to lift my partner with relative ease, or carry them if need be. Legs around my hips is a personal favourite.”

Your dishwashing slows as he continues, unable to stop the images that flood your mind thanks to your visual thinking.

Stupid art brain.

A small pool of heat starts to form low in your stomach. Stupid art brain.

After some more circular cutter punches, you think he’s finished and you’re relieved, but then he switches to a spikier one and continues.

“I’ve also learned that finger strength seems to be a fan favourite,” he jokes and you gulp, forcing that thought out of your head as soon as it enters like a slingshot. “And most of my previous partners seemed to enjoy the fact that I could, uhm…well, that I could hold them in place while I did… that is…whatever I wanted to them.”

You ignore the wetness in forming your underwear. This conversation, regardless of who it was with, was not helping you and your complete and utter lack of sex.

Another enormous downside to long distance, your libido and its easily excitable nature due to lack of use. Maybe an appointment with your vibrator is due soon, if you’re this affected by these attempts at sterile descriptions of sexual-like encounters. He isn’t even saying anything expressly dirty. He’s trying to be as respectful and informative in his answers as he can.

Plus, you did this to yourself.

“But if I had to pick, I think there’s a tie for my favourite part about having unnecessary muscles for non PG purposes,” he says, and looks at you with another quirked brow, seeing if he’s allowed to proceed.

You’ve entirely stopped washing the dishes. Too focused on not focusing on the growing need blooming inside you.

Oh yes, you’re penciling it in right now: Vibrator appointment. Tonight. 10:30pm.

Sharp.

Time to accept the consequences of your actions.

“Consider it a potential learning opportunity. Academically speaking, of course,” you say, as a way to make this educational. That’s all this is anyway right? To see if he knows anything you don’t.

Right?

Right.

“If you say so Picasso.” He tears the leftover dough from the neatly cut cookies, and starts laying them on a baking pan. “First, I like that I’m strong enough to flip my partner over whether they’re, uhm...” he struggles for an ‘academic’ sounding word, but settles for, “restrained, or not.”

Heat. Everywhere. There's heat everywhere and you immediately go back to the dishes, changing the flowing water to ice cold and ignoring the throbbing of your core. You’re pretty sure if you slipped your hands down your pants right now, they’d be just as wet as they are cleaning the mixing bowls.

Maybe you should reschedule to 10. Or even 9:30. Hell, why not 9 while you’re thinking about it.

“Secondly, I like the muscles because they help me make great use of walls.”

You nearly drop the bowl in the sink, not having nearly enough time to recover before he’s looking at you again, sugar cookie filled baking pan in hand.

“You ever done something like that?” he asks, sly smirk visible. He’s trying to make light of the situation, make it a joke for the sake of comfortability.

He’s spilling ‘all’ his secrets, why shouldn’t you spill one.

The oven dings, signaling the preheating is complete and it’s ready for use. He comes closer to you, only because the oven is opposite the sink, puts them in and sets the oven’s timer for 12 minutes. Turning back around, he’s not two feet from you.

You force your voice to be as smooth and cool as possible as you face him, your own smirk plastered.

“Wouldn't you like to know?”

Yes, yes he would.

“Call your goons in, I have their bags ready.”

“They’re not my goons,” Jungkook says, texting Shen, head of his security detail. “They’re my guards.”

You’re both finishing up cleaning the kitchen, all of the ingredients are put away, the dishes are cleaned, and Jungkook is washing down the counterspace as you write the names of everyone on the little bags filled with the results of your combined labours.

The coffee table is covered in little polaroids from today, all still resting from when they developed. Half of them have some form of baking related mess on them, be it some flour or a small lump of dough.

You look at one he took after throwing more flour on you, your nose is scrunched and it looks like half your face is white with the stuff. It’s cute. There’s another beside it, Jungkook is pretending to lick raw batter from the whisk, eyes wide, tongue outstretched. It’s chaotic.

They’re perfect.

Shen, Dae-Seong, Asa, Rowan, Micah and Hikari are Jungkook’s security detail. They all have shared apartments in the same building. Never too far away. Shen and Asa are stationed on his floor, Mikah and Rowan are on the floor below and Dae-Seong and Hikari are on the one above.

“Guards, goons, same difference,” you say, but you hear knocking not seconds later, no doubt Shen and Asa.

You go and open the door, welcoming them in.

“Hey Y/N,” Asa says, scooping you up for a hug, your feet dangling. Asa’s one of the guards who’s super tall, and he’s always been very affectionate towards you. Come to think of it, a lot of them are.

“Hey Asa, how’s Natalie?” you chuckle, hugging him back lightly. Natalie is his wife, who's still back in the capital.

“She’s good, excited to have me home soon.”

“No doubt, say hi for me.”

“Yeah, will do.”

He sets you down just in time for another knock.

Rowan, Micah, Hikari and Dae-Seong all make their way in too, giving high fives, light hugs or happy greetings to you as they do. Soon, you’re being towered over by men, feeling very small, but never scared as they are always so lovely to you.

You suspect you’re quickly becoming their favourite.

Jungkook they’re used to seeing, they’ve known him for years, protected him for years. They give him shit, a nod or grab him by the neck with their arms as they play wrestle to greet him. No hugs or high fives to be seen with him, only laughter. Mostly at Jungkook.

When they’re around, Jungkook is the most at ease you’ve ever seen him at.

“So what’s up?” Shen asks. He’s the least affectionate out of everyone, stoic even, but that doesn’t surprise you. He’s responsible for the safety of the future monarch, that’s a stressful job.

You look to Jungkook, who’s now sitting on the couch. He signals with a hand that this is all you.

“I don’t know if you all celebrate, but just in case you do, Jungkook and I spent the day baking,” Rowan snorts at that, and you ignore it, motioning for them to follow you to the kitchen. The island carrying their individually labeled goody bags comes into their view.

“And this is just a little thank you for all you do from the jackass in the other room,” you point with a thumb to the wall the couch is on the other side of. The men snicker.

“I heard that,” Jungkook calls.

“You were supposed to,” you call back, then to the group once more, “and it’s also a Happy Solstice from me.”

Rowan and Asa are still laughing at your less than kind words about their charge as you begin to hand them their bags. Each one says thank you as you do, and Asa gives you another hug. He may be 6’4 and god knows how many pounds, but really, he was just a big teddy bear—a lethal one— but cuddly nonetheless.

“We’ve got a decent selection, but feel free to trade,” you say, giving Shen his bag last. He has a thing with going last, you have no idea why, but you respect it. You whisper to him that he has an extra of each cookie, and not to tell the others, including Jungkook. He gives you the absolute smallest of small smiles, followed by a hushed ‘thank you.’

It’s the most tender you’ve ever seen him.

Micah pipes up. “What’s this one?” he asks, holding up a cookie.

“So, we’ve got gingerbread, maejakgwa, sugar cookies, shortbread and that, my dearest Micah,” the mountain of a man blushes at that, and you laugh, “is a yakgwa cookie. Think chewy honey and ginger.”

He pops it into his mouth instantly and you swear if he could, he’d melt into a puddle.

“There’s no way King Pain in the Ass over there made these, they’re way too good,” Hikari says, on his third one. He seems to be trying one of each, seeing which he likes. So far? Apparently it’s all of them.

“Cross my heart,” you say, “it was a gallant team effort.”

“Thanks kid,” he calls to the prince, currently entering the room to see his guards happier than he has in a very long time. He will never admit it out loud, for fear of endless mocking, but the sight warms his heart.

Dae-Seong comes up to you, and very politely asks, “Could I get the recipe you used for the maejakgwa? My wife would love these.”

“Of course, Dae-Seong,” you place a kind hand on his forearm. “Give Minji my best will you?”

The man nods, grateful.

All the recipes today were from your memory, so you get your phone, and start typing it out.

You have him text it to himself from your phone when you’re finished, and use that as your que to grab the camera.

“Everyone,” you call out, and immediately seven pairs of eyes, with seven full mouths beneath them, are looking at you. Jungkook’s eating some from his own stash, or so you hope. “Crowd your favourite royal on the couch please, it’s picture time.” You shake the camera gently in your hand.

“My favourite royal’s back at the pala–” Hikari tries, but a punch to the shoulder from Jungkook has him laughing in favour of completing the sentence.

You love the relationship he has with them. Like brothers.

Quickly, Jungkook is squished between the six men, one on either side and four on the floor in front of him. They tried to fit more on the couch but they're all so big that they couldn’t.

“Everyone needs to smile, and if they don't, I'm taking more until they do,” you say pointedly, eyeing up Shen. He only nods that he understands.

“Say Solstice!”

A chorus of deep voiced ‘solstice's' ring your eyes as you look through the eyepiece and snap the picture. It prints out and you leave it with all the others on the coffee table. You see that everyone is smiling in the picture as it develops.

Perfect. Everything about today has been perfect.

After a few more minutes of chatting, the guards have to get back to their posts, and you’re at the door, wishing everyone a happy break as they leave.

Shen, as usual, hangs back, wanting to be the last to leave. He’s standing beside Jungkook, both watching you as you bid the others farewell.

“I like her,” Shen says to Jungkook quietly.

“Me too,” Jungkook says back.

Shen can see the prince means that in more than one way.

“Keep her around.”

“I'm trying my best to.”

It’s nearing 7:30, you’re both full after ordering dinner in, not wanting to be anywhere near a kitchen until next week, and working on assignments. Jungkook’s editing some photos, and you’re writing part of an essay from your phone, having completely forgotten to bring your computer in all the excitement.

“Hey,” you say, sitting in your spot on the couch. You nudge him with a socked foot, he has headphones on so he can focus.

He doesn’t look to you, but removes a headphone. “Yeah?”

You lock your phone, brain mush for the night. “Can we move movie night to tonight? I have an exam at 8am on Monday and I want to use tomorrow to study.”

You’ve been thinking about it for a while, deciding that today would let you know if you needed to make the switch or not. And given that you’ve spent the day on your feet and partially socializing, you doubt you’ll be able to focus for the rest of the night, exhausted. But the good kind of exhausted.

You’ve been taking better care of yourself since that day with Jungkook. Not drastically, but you’re starting to listen to your body’s signals a little more, and right now it’s telling you you need TV and sleep.

Appointment be damned. You’ll reschedule.

Jungkook hits the space bar and removes his headphones before closing the computer.

“Yeah, of course. But–” he cuts himself off, looking at the tree in front of him. The lights are low in the apartment and it’s dark out, so the tree shines, glowing from within. The picture of you two still sits in the middle, and the now multiple stacks of polaroids sit around its base like presents.

“But?”

“But that means I won’t see you after today. I only have two exams left, Monday afternoon and Tuesday morning, then I’m back at the palace.”

Oh.

Right.

“We don’t have to, I can just study earlier in the d-”

“No! No, it’s okay. It just…it changes a few things,” he bites his lip as he thinks, and places his computer on the coffee table. “Close your eyes.”

“What?”

“Close your eyes Picasso, please?”

You’re very confused but comply, closing your eyes and waiting. You hear him get up and then him walking, then a door opens. There’s some rummaging before the door closes and his footsteps near again.

The couch dips right beside you.

“Hold out your hands.”

You hold them both out, palms up, and something bumpy and cylindrical is placed in them.

“Okay, open.”

In your hands is a leather rolling brush case, held shut by not only matching leather strings, but a red ribbon and bow.

“Oh,” you didn’t know you were doing gifts. “Jungkook. It’s—it’s beautiful.”

“Open it.”

You untie the ribbon, setting it to the side as you also untie the leather strings, and unroll. The case is filled with brushes from Olliveri and Schultz, the best brush makers in the realm. And a small, very surprised gasp escapes you.

You’ve never once owned any of their products. Their brushes go for $50 at the lowest, for the smallest of brushes.

Exquisite craftsmanship goes into each and every brush, hand carved wooden handles, the best bristles you can buy, and rust resistant ferrule. You’ve always dreamed of having one of their brushes, and now here you are, with a whole set.

They’re the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen.

“Jungkook I—I don’t know what to say. I couldn’t possibly acce-”

“Yes you can. You can and you will. Please. I even made sure they put in an extra fan brush cuz it’s your favourite.”

You notice the two brushes on the end, identical.

He remembered.

A lump is forming in your throat, overwhelmed with gratitude.

“I haven’t—I don’t—,” you take a breath, “I didn’t get you a gift, though.”

“Today was gift enough,” he says, and you can see in his eyes he means every word. “I haven't had a solstice like this in…a really long time, and the memories from today are enough, more than enough. I promise.”

You don’t know what to say, you haven’t been at this much of a loss for words since…ever. You can only think of one thing to convey how thankful you are.

Throwing your arms around his shoulders, you squeeze, his arms immediately around your waist.

“Thank you,” you whisper, “I love them.”

Jungkook takes a deep breath too, savouring this moment for as long as he can. The feel of your arms around him, squeezing. The soft curve of your body up against his. His hands on your waist, you’re warmth under his touch, or maybe that was him, he can’t tell. And he doesn’t care.

It’s the first time you’ve ever initiated physical contact that was more than a nudge or playful shove.

“You’re welcome, YN. Happy Solstice.”

Chapter Ten: TBR

A/N 2: Fun fact! The tree and tin foil star are based on what I do irl. I have a dollarstore tree with little baubles and lights, but I made the star from a cereal box and tin foil because there weren't any toppers when I bought it.

A/N 3: As always, Thank you for reading, loves. Xoxo - Yoon <3

<- Back

#YAYAYAYAYAYAYAY WE DID IT #WE GOT HERE #I am so proud of us #thankyou always for the review #i adore you #you make the world spin #I hope these have been matching the energy and then some #catch you on the next one? hopefully soon if i can get my shit together #reviews #TWWWBAATTA reviews #Sugar Cookies and Devious Confessions #Moonchild1 #KIKI<3 #typos? what typos? *there are no typos* *there is no war in ba sing se*

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pages-and-1nk · 3 days ago

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PLEASE IF YOURE A JILY OR JEGULUS SHIPPER READ THIS BECAUSE IT HAS TO FUCKING STOP U GUYS.

I’m done with the ridiculous conversation on Jily shippers harassing Jegulus shippers. (And vice versa, this one just covers Jily hate on Jegulus) Please read my breakdown response to the most common argument presented as to why Jegulus is bad.

🙏 PLEASE 🙏 .

—————————

Oh okay jumping RIGHT into it. *Deep breath*

No. No it’s actually not. As a gay trans man, your take is incorrect and actually so fucking wild it astounds me you think that way. To break it down MISOGYNY is the hatred or prejudice against women. Someone taking two male characters- even if one has a canon gf- and shipping them together does not in anyway promote misogyny nor the erasure of the gf. Infact, implying that in order for Lily to be important or developed she has to date James is actually, ironically, misogynistic.

Now is that to say all jegulus shippers ARENT misogynist or have such views? NO, ofc there are bad apples everywhere- doesn’t mean the whole bag is spoiled. Misogyny is not preferring a gay pairing to a cannon heterosexual pairing. Thats frankly a stupid argument and you’re just attaching words with negative connotations to a ship you don’t like, to then make your ship seem more morally righteous and superior and discredit anyone who argues with you by labeling them as misogynistic. (That does more harm then good btw as it discredits and devalues actual misogyny in fan spaces)

As for fetishization, also not inherently. People enjoying a masc and a twink together is not fetishization inherently. Now, it’s a thin line to walk, and in order to do that you must have critical thinking and be able to understand THESE FAKE GAY MEN are not ALL REAL GAY MEN, but it being the dynamic of a ship you like is… not fetishization. Obsessing and harassing REAL gay men and being invested in their sexuality and sexual experiences is fetishization. Please understand the weight of the words you are using, and how throwing them around in such a context not only makes you look like a buffoon but also is wildly undermining to the weight those words hold.

Smh.

————————

Gonna go cry myself to sleep now brb.

But SERIOUSLY? Implying that Regulus is watered down to “James’ twink” tells me you have never actually engaged with Jegulus shippers before and have made broad assumptions about a ship you’ve never even given a chance.

Crimson rivers, choices, art heist baby, only the brave, teach them how to dream, whatever happened to the young young lovers, I COULD GO ON. All of them have well rounded character designs for Regulus- but because you can’t take your head out of your ass and are too focused on how bad of a ship Jegulus is, you’ll never read them!

(Which valid, you don’t have to like Jegulus Jily shippers, in fact- you can loath it as much as you want, but you can’t talk about characterization when you’ve uh… never actually read the characterization)

And those last few sentences? Oh man. James cheating on Lily is like SUCH A SMALL fraction of fanfic/works, such a small fraction. Unless you imply that James could stake a claim to Lily before Lily even agrees to them dating which uh… *cough cough*…. I smell misogyny again… *cough cough.*

Like bsffr rn. 😐

————————

Oh god I think I threw up in my mouth hold on-

First- yes. Jily is an amazing ship that can be wholesome and lovely, and is such a beautifully tragic form of love I will ALWAYS respect it and the people who ship it. Me personally, I don’t read fanfic with Jily, but I def engage with Jily related content bcs it’s GOOD.

But you see, people like you simply ruin it for those who are Jegulus shippers and want to Drabble in Jily because you are TOXIC.

No one is reducing Lily to a baby maker for Jegulus. In fact, I’ve seen more fics with TRANS REGULUS GETTING PREGNANT than I have with surrogate Lily. And even in the surrogate Lily fics, it’s usually well written and Lily has a personality beyond “baby maker” and is just a friend consensually agreeing to help a queer couple out with having a child.

There’s also fics where they co-parent Harry, and if that’s what you’re talking about AGAIN that’s literally normal. I’m a child of divorce, my parents co parent- that’s just how bloody divorce works it isn’t misogynist.

As for the canonical death eater bit- please tell me which part of the canon text refers to regulus being a blood purist. He joined Voldemort, correct, he also rebelled against Voldemort- correct. All of the reasons for him doing both of those things are ASSUMPTIONS MADE BY INFERENCES FROM A BIASED PERSPECTIVE.

Obviously you can have your own preferences on what regulus was like, as can I, because CANNON INFORMATION is LIMITED. Therefore, you can do what you want.

And even if it wasn’t you could still, do what you want BECAUSE ITS FICTIONAL.

Please, I am begging you, for my sanity and your own, just stop. All of it needs to stop. You get no where by tearing another ship down, it won’t stop and you just leave a bad taste in the mouths of people who want to ship Jily but are Jegulus shippers.

This applies to both sides BY THE WAY, Jegulus shippers have a problem with inserting themselves in Jily spaces, or within other ships, or feeling the need to comment on ships with Regulus or James in them and say things like “Jegulus is better” or “ew that’s so weird” (I saw this in particular with kittywater) We all need to realize that unless we just stick in our lanes and fuck off, we’re going to continue promoting toxicity in this fandom.

I love Jily, I love Jegulus, IM PROOF WE CAN LIVE IN HARMONY JUST KNOCK IT OFF, PULL YOUR PANTS UP, AND GROW TF UP!

Anyways thanks for coming to my ted talk, I’m really upset over this post and I just needed to rant. Please reblog this so it reaches more people.

(Also I have not tagged the creator of this post, because I don’t want harassment to befall them. Signed- the author)

#marauders #jily #Jegulus #ship whoever tf you want just be civil #marauders fandom #marauders era #regulus black #lily evans #James potter #dead gay wizards from the 70s #sigh

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entamesubs · 17 hours ago

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Yu-Gi-Oh! Go Rush!! Episodes 140-145 Sub Release

Torrent

Support us on ko-fi

Please make sure to read the FAQ if you have any questions.

There are translation notes below for 142+, so spoilers ahead.

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臼と黒 / usu to kuro Usu and Dark

When Yuuhi accidentally reads it as "White and Black" during the preview, it's because 臼 (usu) and 白 (shiro, which means white) look very similar in terms of kanji, so Yuamu is chastising him for reading it wrong as they're two different characters.

翁丁臼 Otei Usu

Here's a funny one. Otes' "old-timey" name can be read as "old guy with mortar". Do with that information what you will.

お殿様 / otonousama + 武将 / bushou "Honored Lord" + "Military Commander"

There's some liberty taken with the titles the characters use in this arc as there's really no good English translation of them.

First, "Honored Lord" can mean a high minister or a lord (or both, it's not exactly exclusive). One of the synonyms given was "daimyo", but that is very much something completely different (and also, if they really wanted to call him a daimyo, they'd have just said it).

Second, Yuudias refers to himself as a 武将 (bushou), though as I researched it, 武将 (bushou) is normally translated to "warlord" which was fitting for that time. However... Yuudias is not a warlord. He neither has his own soldiers nor his own land. Given that he's basically trying to introduce himself the old-fashioned way to "fit in", and as a nod to his own military accomplishments, he probably just thought it was the right word to describe himself.

Though, it also felt strange to try and translate that as "military commander" considering that "Commander" is a real position in real life, and in the context of the show, was also something that Zwijo used to be titled with ("Supreme Commander"). We know that Yuudias' official military designation within the Velgearian army was "Captain" (from episode 20 & later 49).

Anyway, I went back and forth on this in my head. It was genuinely a little hard trying to think of appropriate titles that didn't make me feel as though I was mislabeling them. This strict adherence to the correct military title is the reason why Zwijo is usually referred to as "Lord Zwijo" in the subtitles when Dinois and Myuda address him as Zwijo-sama. They're still showing him the due respect he deserves as their Supreme Commander, I cannot call him "Commander Zwijo" since he is no longer part of the army.

It goes against what I personally would like, but given that I have no other ideas, "military commander" had to do for Yuudias.

This is basically a lot of words to say that the original idea was the best one, LOL. I guess Oda Nobunaga and Tokugawa Ieyasu were also known as "military commanders" back then, so it's not that bad... I just have a little bit of a complex about correct titling.

Speaking of Ieyasu...

Ah, how pleasant! Two awakenings and one sleep. This dream of a fleeing world! The roseate hues of early dawn!

Otes' summon chant for Outerverse Oblivion is a nod/reference to Tokugawa Ieyasu's death poem. It was customary back in the day to compose a poem on the verge of death by learned men (noblemen and monks, mainly).

This translation was taken from Phillip Johnston. While translating SEVENS/Go Rush is my forte, I defer to the professionals for poetry-related matters. It is so much more complicated translating poetry than it is some dialogue from a card game anime.

"The Yuudias Incident"

I cannot give a crash course on Sengoku era Japan in the span of a single translation note, but basically the era was very hectic due to the different lords fighting over land and to rule Japan. These lords also betrayed each other constantly, backstabbing and overthrowing the masters they served like changing clothes.

When Otes said that Yuudias rebelling is "fitting" for the time, he's referencing that same backstabbing endemic to the era.

The title of the episode is also a reference to one of these betrayals, known as "The Honnouji Incident". It was when Oda Nobunaga was betrayed by one of his vassals and forced to commit seppuku (kill himself).

from the hour of the rooster until the crow’s evening cries

The "hour of the rooster" is mainly known as around 5-7pm. I'm not quite sure when "the crow's evening cry" is supposed to be, but I assume around 9-10pm. Zwijo makes his proclamation as a way to say "children have to work until this time, then they can play" (as was the case back then).

Episode 145

Not really a TL note, but just wanted to point out something really cool about this episode.

The episode is a reference to "Blink" from S29E10 of Doctor Who (the season where David Tennant was the Doctor and the main female lead was Martha Jones).

Yuamu font changes

Baloo 2 -> Sephora Sans Serif Medium

This is the same font that all the Darkmen (+ Dark Meister) use, but now with Yuamu's old colors. I felt like it was a cute change to recognize who she was before and how she's changed since then while still retaining her old flair.

-------------------------------

Well, if the dub is to be believed, we have anywhere from 6 to 7 episodes of Go Rush left. It feels kinda strange being so close to the end and yet not quite seeing where the end could be, but I suppose the same thing happened with SEVENS.

Regardless, have fun and keep enjoying Go Rush!

"Are you back on normal weekly releases?" 🤷‍♀️しらん

#yugioh #yugioh go rush #go rush #ygo go rush #go rush spoilers #entamesubs release #E140 #E141 #E142 #E143 #E144 #E145

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sunflowersandsapphires · 22 hours ago

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alrighty, i come to you for your thoughts on frank or matt, totally cool with either, with an emotional and sensitive reader, and maybe one of thr guys say something about a quirk of the reader, they meant it jokingly, but reader doesn't take it that way. they get defensive or try to maybe change that quirk, not wanting them to find them annoying cause of the people in their life, and the guys are so quick to apologize once they realize.

idk, i tend to be sensitive myself and always that people pleasing tendency to change myself if someone makes a slight comment, or cry over it 😭😂 so hearing an apology through them seems very helpful lol

Hello dear! I hope you’re having a good weekend.

And I HEAR YOU about being sensitive. I’m a sensitive girly myself, which is why I wrote the Reader in my Frank fic (When Skies are Gray) to be so sensitive 😂 I needed an outlet. But I can totally see this being a situation where Frank and Matt end up with their feet LODGED in their respect mouths.

This got LONG so I’m going to put it under a cut.

Matt

For Matt, I think he would genuinely be remarking on a quality he liked about you, not knowing he was treading on thin ice.

Like maybe he gets home late from work and you’re already bursting at the seams, excited to tell him every little detail about your day. The moment he steps through the door, you’re squealing and darting to kiss him hello. Immediately, he’s chuckling, happily accepting the tiny pecks you plant on his nose and cheeks.

He lets you eagerly tangle your hands together, tugging him inside and towards the couch as the words start pouring out of your mouth.

“Hi, Matty! How was your day? Did you win your case? Oh that reminds me! I picked up dinner for you! And the funniest thing happened on the way home!!”

You’re leaving room for him to respond, of course, but you can’t help the sheer giddiness you feel every time you’re in his presence. Matt loves it, of course. It makes him feel wanted, feel loved. But when he brushes a hand over your arm and gently cuts you off, it makes you freeze.

“I can’t wait to hear more about your day beautiful. Let me run and change first, then I’m all yours.” There’s a beautiful grin on his lips as he makes the offer, but it’s hard to focus on that when you suddenly can’t breathe.

Matt might not have meant anything by the comment, but many people before him had. Suggesting you were too much, too loud, too self-involved—seeing your excitement as a nuisance. Your mind immediately goes to that place, the defensive little corner you always felt pushed in when people picked on you. The echo chamber of self-doubt that suggested you fold yourself into something easier to swallow.

Your heart is lodged in your throat as he leaves to change, your lungs straining to take in oxygen around the obstacle. You shrink in on yourself instinctively, sitting on the edge of the couch like you don’t deserve to relax, to be comfortable in his home when you’ve taken up so much space already.

When Matt comes back, there’s a soft smile on his face. One that quickly falls when he registers your stuttering breaths and downward gaze. “What, what happened, sweetheart? What’s wrong?”

He sees right through your little fib of “Nothing,” dragging you into his lap with his amazing strength.

“If nothing’s wrong, you won’t mind telling me that funny story then, will you?” You shouldn’t be surprised that he can pick up on the root of the issue that easily, he reads your thoughts as if they’re transcribed just for him.

You duck into his neck bashfully. “You sure you want to hear it?”

Matt squeezes you tightly, hands splaying over your back and shoulder. “Of course I do! I love listening to you.”

After your story, he prods a bit further, investigating the cause of the sensitivity and assuring you that he loves the way you greet him when he comes home.

Rather than avoiding it entirely, I think Matt would honestly compliment your quirks even more going forward. I don’t think he’d have a single problem dating someone who was on the sensitive side. I actually think he’d love that about you!! (Even if it confused him at times)

I’ll probably reblog with Frank thoughts! But here’s this for now!

#matt murdock #daredevil #matt murdock x reader #mm #my writing #charlie cox #marvel #matt murdock x you #matt murdock fanfic #marvel's daredevil #marvel daredevil #daredevil fanfiction #daredevil fic #daredevil fanfic #daredevil netflix

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b0tsbby · 2 days ago

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I realized I never actually shared this here but for the Drakengard fans, a while ago I was cooking up a Drakengard 3 au inspired by another artist who I genuinely can’t find anymore. Such doubled as a swap au cause Knives as a protag really did and still kinda does interest me.

The whole concept was kinda exploring things from a plant perspective and like, the world REALLY being bad…like bad…and if you’ve watched that 6-7 hour video on Drakenier lore on YouTube you’d KNOW, that canonically there’s constantly different timelines that sometimes converge or diverge so I can make a lot of executive decisions like the watcher’s cult and the flower and what not.

In the instance of Rem project Seeds, in this medieval setting is a lot more like the Cult of Watchers with slightly different intentions like weapon research and mana extraction. They really do weirdly praise the Black Flower though, despite honestly hurting it. After migrating from the city, Rem is very curious about its existence and how it can help with the constant war and environmental crisis befalling Midgard, but is actually more interested in the stars. She’s a scholar at heart and is one to question a lot so I mean, forgive her for falling into the clutches of a cult, it’s a very drab time to be alive. She did her best.

On the topic of Zazie I know we already have Accord as someone who is canonically everywhere all at once as a recorder, but I thought in this au Zazie would really fit that role. They aren’t an android like her though, and are closer to the magical side of the spectrum where dragons and intoners are, just a lil higher. Pure black and a coat felt like a fitting design choice considering they’d be the most enigmatic as the unreliable narrator.

So funny but I actually started with Elendira cause she kinda deserves to be a Drakenier character idk?😭😭 From the style to her personality she’d just do very well in that setting! That said I have the most fun with her in this au cause she’s a breath of fresh air from the melodrama and gives, very little fucks? Her goals are very simple: to live and not simply exist, and to have her own dragon…naturally. It is Vash who takes her in in this au…but that only makes her quote unquote ‘worse’ because she deeply can not comprehend his values. That said, as much as she hates him she respects him. She only barely respects Knives if she does at all.

And on the most important little duo we have the twins who are, Intoners. The only two there is. Like I said Knives is the protagonist and his goal is simply to kill his brother. That’s it. (“They don’t even know how deep this is gonna go” I say in the shadows). I pretty obviously related him to Zero for this design. And just like Zero, he’s a pretty unconventional and bitchy protagonist and the whole question of ethics was already out the window 20 min ago. Have some plant twins as little tiny guys cause I never figured a design out for Vash as a heroic antagonist.

While I consider this au abandoned I re listened to that 7 hour Drakenier lore video and kinda fell in love with it again. I also have Meryl, LR and Legato literally sitting there cause they’re practically almost finished designs. You can ask about drakengard lore anytime but for the love of god never play that game series (it’s peak). Genuinely don’t touch it (best worst games in history, actual art pieces). I have a whole lore doc and a 1000+ one shot on Elendira based on the Drakengard 3 novellas I don’t know what to do with it please someone tell me what to do with it.

#b0tstalks #trigun #millions knives #trigun stampede #vash the stampede #elendira the crimsonnail #rem saverem #zazie the beast #drakengard 3 #trigun au

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beesonhoneytoast · 2 days ago

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♡ valentine ♡

armin arlert x reader

a/n: i wanted to write a lil fic for my baby armin cos it’s love day!! i hope this isn’t too ooc for him ><

written to the lyrics of ‘valentine’ by laufey

cw: slightly jealous armin, weirdos tryna win your heart (and failing to do so miserably), friends to lovers, tooth-rotting fluff, kissing, swearing, armin is inexperienced (but bless his heart he’s trying his best), armin nerds out about the sea, aot spoilers ofc, armin spirals a lil, hurt/comfort(?), crying, reader is kinda a bully but in a lighthearted way, this is kinda somewhere between the events of the timeskip

word count: 1.9k

you hadn’t been one to accept affections just because.

so, when a random scout came to hit you up, you had to politely decline.

you would’ve liked to say that was the end of it, but they were persistent that you be their valentine for today. yuck.

“cmon, hun. why don’t you give me a chance?” they teased you.

“i said no thank you.” you repeated yourself, your tone slightly wavering with the discomfort that this person brought you. you had turned your body away from them, shielding yourself from their pestering.

i’ve rejected affections for years and years

just as they were going to make some sort of advance on you, you were suddenly being defended by armin arlert.

he shoved himself between you and them. “hey, piss off why don’t you? they said they aren’t interested. so if you really do love them, i suggest you respect their wishes.” he demanded them.

the words rolled right off armin’s tongue, like the spirit of erwin had possessed him, and urged him to say those words. the thought hurt to think about. it made him think he really was trying to replace erwin.

oh god, this was awful. how could armin think himself like that? like he could possibly be on erwin’s level—

“armin?” your voice cut through the cyclone of anxiety ransacking his mind.

now i have it. and damn it, it’s kind of weird

his ocean eyes quickly snapped to look at you. “y/n? are you okay? they didn’t hurt you, did they? i swear, if that dirtbag laid a finger on your pretty face, i—”

armin’s words caught you off guard.

he tells me i’m pretty, don’t know how to respond

“woah, slow down, armin. i’m fine. thanks to you. so don’t worry that pretty blonde head of yours too much.” you chuckled, patting his shoulder.

i tell him that he’s pretty, too. can i say that? don’t have a clue

armin’s face reddened at your assurances and your touch. his lips pursed and his head ducked down shamefully, his eyes fixed on the floor.

with every passing moment, i surprise myself

“you got a valentine, armin?” you asked him, walking off with the blonde trailing behind you like a lost puppy.

“um… no. i don’t really… know how any of that stuff works. nor do i think anyone is really interested in being my valentine. especially not after what happened.” armin admitted.

you turned at this. you knew that the decision to save armin’s life was not one made without minor cost. but as you heard it, it seemed commander erwin was already dead before captain levi could even make a decision.

you had also heard that in the midst of armin becoming a titan, he had eaten bertholdt and gained the powers of the colossal titan. he never wanted this. he never asked for this. but it’s happened anyway.

and it was up to you to accept him for that.

i’m scared of flies, im scared of guys. someone please help

“armin, look at me.” you guided his chin up, his big blues fixing on yours.

“what is it?” he asked you with desperation on his words.

“what’s happened to you during the fight against bertholdt and reiner was completely outside of your control. but you know what was and what i think was very brave and very selfless of you? your willingness to die for your best friends. and i strongly believe eren and mikasa would say the same.” you wanted to drill these words into his brain. you weren’t about to just let someone as sweet and intelligent as armin get away with this self deprecation of his. not ever.

prickles of tears gathered on armin’s lash line. his head shook and his hands held yours at his cheeks. “y/n, why… why do you do this? why would you tell me all these pretty words?”

you used your thumbs to wipe away his tears as they tripped over armin’s lower eyelids. “because…” you started.

you thought of everything armin had gone through in the last several years. from being bullied as a kid, losing his family, being drafted in the army, having to watch his best friend be eaten by a titan and thinking he was killed, then with what happened in shinganshina with the fight against the armored and colossal titans… yeah, there was no way you were gonna let armin self destruct like this.

“you’re not just gonna be abandoned because you went through things that happened outside of your control.” you told him.

your words clearly touched armin, judging by the tears that now streamed down his blotchy red cheeks. his shoulders twitched, and his hands balled into trembling fists against your sleeve.

“armin, are you…” you began, but armin’s next action would be one to silence your worries.

he used his grip on your arms to pull you towards his body, his lips meshing with yours in a moment’s notice. his eyes were squeezed shut like he was bracing himself for the impact. as though his decision was rash and he didn’t know what he was doing. no, that wasn’t it. it was more like…

like he was scared you’d push him away.

but who were you to push him away? you wanted to pull him even closer, but he would pull away from you before you could even act on your thoughts.

fear flooded his wide eyes. “oh my god, i am… so sorry, y/n.. i—”

nope. you weren’t about to hear it. you grabbed him by the collar of his uniform shirt, your lips silencing any qualms about his actions.

armin’s hands trembled against your shoulders awkwardly. he had no clue where to put them. adorable. just adorable. he was such a dork and you loved him. he was such a romantically awkward dork.

your romantically awkward dork.

once you pulled away, armin seemed astounded. he stared off into space, blinking wordlessly for a few minutes.

“i… i don’t… why did you… do this?” armin panted, shaking his head slightly with his disbelief.

you chuckled at his oblivion. “i think a certain three words are in order to sort of… clarify things.” you leaned in towards his ear, tucking a strand of his blonde hair back behind armin’s ear. “i adore you.” you whispered against the shell of his ear.

the little gasp armin emitted didn’t go unnoticed. “you… what?”

you leaned back to look at his blushing face again. “i don’t think i need to repeat myself, arlert.” you tutted.

‘cause i think i’ve fallen in love this time

red gradually painted his skin from the inside, a high pitched squeal leaving him. “uhh… wow. okay… i’m… you… you…”

“you…?” you mocked him, the action lightheartedly intended.

“you… oh, you tease!” he whined, burying his face in his hands.

you cackled at his flustered mood, prying his hands from the hidden visage. “not my problem that you’re so fun to torment.”

“no fair, you’re so mean to me!” he whined, feigning hurt.

“yeah, i know. aren’t i just the worst? aren’t i your big bully?” you jeered, getting all up in his face.

armin pouts and crosses his arms. he was acting like a child. it was endearing, if anything. especially when he turned his back towards you.

“hey, now. don’t be like that, armin.” you scoffed, wrapping your arms around him from behind, not missing the little shiver of his body.

“be serious. why do you love me?” armin solemnly asked, turning back to you.

you exhaled through your nose at this, creating a sigh. getting to his heart would be hard. but you were willing to do it. “armin… you’ve gone through so much hardship over the years. but… that’s not why i love you. that alone would just be pity. see; you’ve always fought for what you believe in. you’ve fought for the livelihoods of your friends, your comrades, the commanders, strangers… and i can’t help but feel a sense of pride and affection when i look at you. the way you smiled that day on the beach; how you lit up at first sight of the vast, uncharted horizon we arrived on. you are intelligent beyond any means of comparison. your empathy and the grace you have displayed for others… your worry for even people like bertholdt who have committed atrocities. there’s just… so many things about you that i could say… so many attributes that i could admire… how could i not love you?”

the end of your monologue moved armin to more tears. a sob hitched in his throat.

you only offered him a sympathetic smile, not saying a word as you opened your arms to him.

armin was reluctant to accept this embrace, even though his earlier actions were bold. but he did eventually step towards you and allowed himself to receive your affection. he was tense, but he would soon allow himself to relax when he assessed the situation to be safe. he was safe. he was home.

you both haven’t the faintest idea of how or when, but you suddenly were slow dancing in one of the common areas, soft love songs playing on the gramophone.

then you found yourselves frolicking amongst the couples on the streets of this seaside town.

armin treated you with any sweet or savory treats you wanted, and you would find a peculiar little stand.

it sold bouquets of what you thought were flowers you’d never seen before.

but as you got closer, you realized they weren’t flowers; they were seashells.

you of course had to know of armin’s affinity for the sea, so it would be a crime not to get him one of them.

you were lucky you had caught armin in a moment where he was distracted and observing another stand, so you took advantage of his distraction to purchase one of the ornate bouquets and held it behind your back.

when armin turned back to face you, he immediately took notice of your hidden arm.

“y/n… what are you hiding from me?” he wondered.

“hiding? pfft, what would i be hiding from you?” you dismissed him in a way that intentionally made you so obvious. you just wanted to rile him up first, and pique his interest.

“y/n, come on!” he giggled, the little sound echoing in your brain like it was a song sung in an empty church.

“okay, pushy pants.” you submitted to his nosiness and presented the shell bouquet to him.

immediately he was hyperfocused on the present. “wha- a bouquet of… shells?” he furrowed his eyebrows at it, clearly struggling to see the fact that it was no ordinary bouquet. he took it up into his grasp and observed the different shells that formed the bouquet.

“those are worm snail shells… conus… miter…” god damn it, he was really gonna start nerding out and start naming all the types of shells here, wasn’t he?

you couldn’t help the little snicker that flew from your mouth.

“what?” armin whined defensively.

“you’re such a dork.” you shook your head laughing heartily.

“i know, i just love the sea…” he muttered sheepishly.

“but hey, there’s nothing wrong with that. i think it’s pretty cute, honestly.” you added, not giving him room to argue.

you made your way to the beach, armin still cradling his new shell bouquet against the crook of his elbow.

you both sat on the shoreline, your shoes and socks were discarded so you could soak your feet in the crawling waves.

now the sun was just sinking below the horizon line, so that it may rise for those on the other side.

for the people that you and armin longed to meet, who were now waking up for the day.

you wanted to know if they really would treat you as monsters and traitors who abandoned them for the titans to take.

but as for today… you’d rather not think too much on that.

you and armin shuffled so you were sat side to side on the soft sand of the beach, leaning on each other. your fingers intertwined together on the cool sediment.

i blinked then suddenly, i had a valentine…

story written by @beesonhoneytoast

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clarisse0o · 5 hours ago

Text

The Mayor - Chapter 56

Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle

Alternate Universe: Mayor and Architect

Words: 2000

Masterlist

———————————————————————

Sitting at the table in Lucy’s spacious open-plan kitchen, with a plate of risotto in front of me, I listened absentmindedly to the conversation. Hugo was negotiating with his mother about an upcoming ski trip with his friends, presenting an impressively persuasive argument to win Lucy over, which amused me.

"Have you considered becoming a lawyer one day?" I remarked.

He smiled at my comment, while his brother Jules, seated across from me, shot me one of his trademark icy glares.

It had been five months since Lucy broke the news to the twins, not long after we had discussed it. I had been impressed by her courage to address it so quickly. Of course, it was a complicated transition. While the boys had known their parents were divorcing for some time, learning that their mother was in a relationship with another person—especially a woman—was something entirely different.

As I had warned Lucy, one could never predict individual reactions. Hugo had been shocked but adapted relatively quickly once the initial surprise wore off. Jules, on the other hand, had a much harsher reaction, vehemently opposing the relationship. He yelled at Lucy, asking how she could do this to him, accusing her of being the "worst mother," and declaring that he never wanted to see me again—“that pathetic girl who has completely derailed your sense of reason!” he called me. He even threatened never to speak to her again if she continued seeing me. This was the same Jules who had once spent weeks with me during an internship and adored me.

Saying that Lucy returned devastated to my apartment would be an understatement. My arms and comforting words consoled her over the following days. Despite everything, she never faltered or doubted our relationship, which was a tremendous relief for me. Over time, things improved, although "improved" was still a relative term. Lucy’s ex-husband, Paul, had stepped in as a mediator, managing to ease the tension with Jules to some degree. Lucy had told Paul first, before the twins. Their marriage had been platonic for years, so he took the news without issue, hardly surprised, as he had noticed her behavior when she talked about me or worked alongside me. I was thrilled by this revelation and loved teasing her about it.

The boys now alternated weekly between staying with their mother and father. I alternated too, splitting my time between Lucy’s house and my own apartment. At 35, I was experiencing the joys of shared living arrangements.

For four months, Jules had outright refused to see me, and I respected his wishes. Recently, he had begrudgingly allowed me to join them for occasional dinners. Even so, the atmosphere was strained by Jules' toxic moods. I did my best to be kind and understanding, ignoring his sharp remarks when he wasn’t completely ignoring me: "It won’t last," "I hate you," "What have you done to my mother," and so on. I had tried to open a dialogue with him multiple times, but he remained unapproachable. Lucy walked a fine line between reprimanding him and trying to remain empathetic and attentive. She was walking on eggshells.

"Composing" was the word that best described my life at the moment. Composing with Jules, the living arrangement, not being able to live with Lucy, and the many challenges. Still, the love I felt helped me stay positive, even when the situation took a toll on me.

Lucy’s voice cut through my thoughts.

"Okay, Hugo, you can go! But let me warn you: you’re not leaving the house this weekend—you’re studying for your mock exams!"

Hugo grinned broadly, clearly pleased with his mother’s answer. Jules chimed in:

"Hey! Don’t forget we’re going to the Christmas market opening tomorrow with you, Mom!"

Indeed, Lucy was set to inaugurate the large Christmas market the next evening, Friday. The event was a town highlight with music, mulled wine, and festive dishes.

"Don’t worry; I haven’t forgotten, considering how much energy it’s taken to organize it!" Lucy replied with a wink.

"Are you coming with us, Ona?" Hugo asked kindly from his seat to my right.

Jules immediately jumped in.

"There’s no way she’s coming! If she comes, I won’t!"

His glare was sharp as ever. What a brat, I thought to myself, holding his gaze in silence. Lucy sighed, exasperated, addressing her son:

"Lower your voice, now! And stop saying 'she'—Ona is right in front of you. Show some respect, Jules!"

"Oh, please, she’s already imposing at dinner; that’s enough! I don’t want her there!"

"God, Jules, give it a rest! You’re killing the mood!" Hugo interjected, clearly fed up.

I decided to speak, my tone unusually firm.

"Don’t worry, Jules. I wasn’t planning on coming with you anyway. I have no interest in ruining my Friday night dealing with your attitude!"

For the first time, I addressed him sharply. He blinked, visibly taken aback. I had always been gentle with him. That night, though, I was just tired—of work, of this situation, of Jules. Tonight wasn’t the night to push me. Lucy seemed startled by my reaction, unsure of how to respond. Thankfully, the house phone rang at that moment. Jules used the opportunity to slip away, heading to the phone.

"Saved by the bell," I muttered, grabbing the fruit basket.

Hugo quickly lightened the mood with one of his stories. Jules eventually returned, explaining that he needed to visit a neighbor to retrieve his agenda.

Later, as we cleared the table, Hugo leaned in and whispered:

"You can come with us, you know."

I smiled at him. He was genuinely sweet.

"Thank you, Hugo, that’s very kind of you. But I’ve already made plans to go with my friend Alexia."

In truth, I hadn’t considered attending with Lucy this year, regretfully. There was Jules to consider, and Lucy was going in her role as mayor. I couldn’t imagine being by her side amidst the crowds, journalists, and local dignitaries.

After the dishes were done, I stepped outside for a cigarette. Lucy soon joined me.

"Are you okay?" she asked softly.

"I’m fine," I replied, my tone weary. She raised her eyebrows.

"Are you sure?"

"Just tired today, Lucy," I admitted.

"I could tell, with how you reacted. But look, it’s getting better... we’re all at the same table," she said, brushing my cheek tenderly.

"Yes, a victory! Maybe in a year, you can touch my cheek without looking over your shoulder, and who knows, in ten years, we might even live together!" I quipped sarcastically.

Lucy bit her lip, lowering her gaze, clearly hurt by my comment.

"What do you want me to do? How should I handle this? If I push too hard, he’ll shut down completely."

I shrugged. "He’s playing this situation perfectly, either way. I’m just on edge tonight; it’ll be fine," I said, trying to reassure her.

"Do you want me to come over tonight?" she asked.

Lucy often snuck away to my place for the night during the weeks the boys were with her, returning early in the morning. Breakfasts with the step-sons weren’t on the table yet.

"No, I have a ton of work," I replied truthfully. She pouted.

Her phone rang again—of course, it was one of those nights. She frowned.

"I need to take this—it’s about tomorrow. I’ll be back soon!" She kissed me quickly before heading inside.

I stayed outside for a while, lost in thought under the stars, until I heard footsteps. Jules was returning from his errand, walking past me without a glance, pretending I didn’t exist. I shook my head.

"What a shame it’s come to this," I murmured.

“What?” he threw at me offhandedly.

“Jules! I’m the same person you talked to, laughed with, for weeks during your internship!”

My tone was sharp and energetic.

“Yes, but since then, you slept with my mother!”

He aimed to throw me off balance with his brazen words.

“Classy, Jules. I expected better from you! Stop acting like a little Twat !”

Once again, my unusually direct tone caught him off guard.

“Oh, so now I’m a little twat ? Mom’s going to love hearing that!”

I sighed deeply.

“I’ve really tried everything with you, Jules—compassion, kindness. I get it, none of this is easy. But I am not your enemy, Jules, and you’re pushing me to my limits…”

He rolled his eyes, a nasty smirk playing on his lips.

I stepped closer, leaving barely any space between us.

“Listen to me carefully; I’ll only say this once, so it gets etched into your stubborn little head. Your behavior is ruining our lives. I know you’re smart enough to see it. You might be fine with wrecking mine—I guess that even gives you some satisfaction. But have you thought about your mom? Just for a second? About how your selfish attitude affects her? I love her, Jules. And understand this: nothing you do, no amount of your bratty behavior, will make me give up on her. Nothing. So go ahead, exhaust yourself trying to make all our lives miserable if that’s what entertains you!”

I never broke eye contact, delivering my words calmly but with firmness, cutting through like a knife.

He didn’t reply. Not a single word.

I turned on my heel and walked inside, closing the door behind me. I listened as he stomped away into the garden. I sighed again. I knew I’d gone far, but it was necessary. That was the breaking point.

I knew this kid; his behavior turned my stomach inside out.

I found Lucy in the living room, finishing up a phone call.

“I’m sorry, I need to rush to the prefecture—some urgent issue about tomorrow’s security! Honestly, they’re exhausting me!” she said, exasperated.

I didn’t want to bring up what had just happened with Jules. She was in a hurry, and it wasn’t the time to tell her I’d called her son a brat.

“I was just about to head out too!”

“See you tomorrow?” she asked as she grabbed her bag.

“Yes, we’ll see each other tomorrow,” I replied quickly before adding with a teasing smile, “I know how it is—Madame Mayor amidst her constituents and journalists for the Christmas market inauguration…”

She pulled me close, pushing me into a dimly lit back room, and kissed me deeply. My body warmed instantly from her touch, her lips, her tongue. She rested her forehead against mine, her blue eyes locked on me, and whispered a tender “I love you…”

I kissed her back, murmuring the same words into her ear before breaking away from her embrace.

She caught my hand as I started to leave. “We’ll get through this…”

“We’ll get through this…”

It was something we told each other often, words that gave us strength.

As I headed to my car, I noticed Jules sitting in the far corner of the garden. I wondered what state he was in and what he might tell Lucy after our confrontation.

#woso #lucy bronze #woso community #ona batlle #barca femeni #woso soccer #lionesses #sefutbol fem #ona batlle x lucy bronze

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defututus · 7 hours ago

Text

Even When I’m Not With You | Chapter Three

Sprite & Confessions

masterlist

Summary: you and Eddie are getting closer and it has become impossible to ignore your feelings for each other.

content warnings: mentions of a lack of romantic experience but I swear this chapter is all fluff, Eddie being gross for a minute

word count: ~4.8k

author's note: this chapter is my favorite and I hope you all see why <3 also, I had someone ask for a taglist so if anyone else wants to be added please let me know!

As always, thank you to my favorite people @corroded-hellfire and @munson-blurbs for helping me when I need advice. Also, I don’t know if they remember helping me with this, but I want to thank @vintagehellfire for letting me pick their brain and suggesting things while I writing about Eddie’s… incident. I cackled when she suggested some of the dialogue.

reposting because I forgot to tag it properly!

divider by @saradika-graphics

You and Eddie quickly became thick as thieves. The two of you were either hanging out together or talking over facetime or texting. There were always updates on how your day was going, memes being sent, random thoughts that popped into your head. You couldn’t go an hour without speaking to one another with the exception of sleeping or you being in class, in which Eddie would just message hou until class was over and you’d catch up on everything he sent you. You eventually learned everything about him - about his uncle and his band, Corroded Coffin. You learned he was a music production major with the hopes that his band would make it big but kept a job at the local mechanic for the time being and in case plan A doesn’t work out.

The two of you would usually have breakfast together, schedules permitting, and then walk to your respective classes together. You were always amazed at how much Eddie was able to eat every morning, especially when you ate dinner with him the night before and remembered how much he ate then. He also tried a new combination of food every morning - some of these made sense, like Cocoa Puffs in chocolate milk, while you vividly remember him trying Fruity Pebbles in orange juice and how he got a weird look from the dining hall staff when they saw him happily walking to his seat with that in his bowl. It was during these meals together that you two realized how much you both had in common - a love for horror movies, rock and metal music, and obviously, Dungeons and Dragons. Eddie swore you two were destined to become friends and he wished he had met you sooner.

You both had planned to sit together after your classes had finished and get some work done before the end of the week. Eddie specifically said he needed you to hold him accountable and make sure he didn’t get distracted and click off his schoolwork like he always ends up doing. He wasn’t exactly lying when he made that request. Eddie always struggled to keep his focus on homework, but he really wanted an excuse to spend more time with you.

You meet up with him after class in the campus brightly-lit convenience store to grab some snacks. You go for a small cup of cheez-its and an iced tea, while he immediately grabs a large bag of pretzels and two sprites. Your mind immediately goes back to earlier in the day during breakfast where you saw him eat two Belgian waffles, scrambled eggs, and Cocoa Puffs. You’re looking at him in surprise and Eddie can see it in your eyes, because he looks at you and holds his family size bag of pretzels close to his chest, defending himself by saying, “Don’t look at me like that. I’m a growing boy, I need food!”

You snort and begin weaving between the aisles of chips and candy to the checkout counter, greeting the cashier who you have grown fond of over the past three years and swipe your food card to pay for your items. Eddie isn’t too far behind, grabbing a pack of gum before he pays for his own food. You’re waiting for him outside the store as you put your snacks inside your backpack. Once they’re safely stored inside, you look through the front windows and admire Eddie from afar as he chats up the cashier. She’s laughing with him and he has this infectious smile that spreads even to you. You’re admiring his dimples and the way his nose scrunches up when he laughs. He’s wearing a red flannel on top of a black Pantera shirt, his hands in his pockets and watching as the cashier counts out his change. Maybe he could sense you were watching him, or maybe he just happened to look over at you, but you two locked eyes so he gave you a toothy smile and stuck his tongue out. You giggled, and although he couldn’t really hear it through the glass, he still felt the same amount of joy that he felt every time he heard you laugh. Eddie steps outside a minute later and the two of you walk up the hill, shoving your hands in your hoodie and shivering when the wind begins to blow.

It felt as if fall had swept over the campus seemingly overnight, because all of a sudden the grounds were awash with hues of orange and yellow. The tree-lined walkways were littered with leaf piles and smelled of autumn. As the seasons began to change, the student body began to pile on layers of clothing to keep the chills away as the winds kicked up. It was one of the cruel facts about going to school in a mountainous area - it was going to get cold. However, the drop in temperature did not keep students from taking advantage of all the outdoor seating the school had to offer. You always maintained that you’d stop sitting outside when it dipped below 40 degrees and that still hadn’t happened yet, which is why you still found yourself sitting at one of the picnic tables outside the school’s student center across from Eddie.

You two choose a table near the front of the building with a view of the school quad. The winds have died down for the time being so you could safely unload your backpack without worrying about any papers flying around. The sun was shining towards the quad so you two sat on the same side of the table with the warm rays hitting your backs. You’re laying out everything you need to get your work done, a few articles to outline for class next week, your copy of The Odyssey to continue translating, and your notebook. Everything was color coded, so you took out the blue highlighter and the blue post-it notes that went along with them. All Eddie takes out is his laptop with his music program already loaded up, most likely left there from class earlier in the day, and his pretzels laid open right next to the laptop between the two of you. The cheez-its you bought came out a few minutes later once you heard Eddie quietly chewing and remembered your own food. Eventually, you and Eddie fall into a quiet, comfortable routine. You’re focusing on your work and he’s focusing on his. There are moments of brief conversation, like when you ask him if your translation of a sentence sounds clunky or not, or if he’s stuck on how a certain part of a song should sound, but otherwise it’s complete silence between you two.

At some point in your work you begin eyeing his pretzels. You hadn’t finished your cheez-its yet, still having around half of the small container left to eat, but you just found yourself craving the snack your friend had purchased. He bought a large bag and didn’t make much of a dent in it yet, so it wouldn’t hurt to just take a few pieces.

You glance over at Eddie, the muffled sounds of guitar chords from his music program blaring into his ears as he seems completely focused on his work. Part of you was surprised that he hadn’t complained about any hearing loss based on how loud he always kept things. He wouldn’t care if you took some, right?

You turn the bag over to you and take a few pretzels out of the bag, popping them in your mouth and resuming your own work. These clauses aren’t going to translate themselves, and you were getting to your favorite part of the story so you were excited to go over it again.

Eddie sees your movement out of the corner of his eye and does indeed notice you taking some of his food, not that he minds, of course. He’d give you the entire bag if you asked him. However, he did like being a pain in the ass to you sometimes, so he holds out an expectant hand between the two of you. It takes you a moment to notice it, and you only do when he begins wiggling his fingers in waiting and you see him looking right at you. He arches a brow at you and waits for you to pay up for the stolen salty snacks.

You crack a smile at him, which he returns, and then place a few cheez-its in his hand. They were roughly the same amount of pretzels that you took from him, you weren’t sure. He closes his hand once the crackers are in his hand and tosses them all into his mouth. His cheeks are puffed up like a chipmunk and you’re sure he must be getting crumbs over his laptop but doesn’t seem to care. His face is almost comical and it makes you laugh. Unbeknownst to you, he’s only doing this to get that exact reaction out of you. Your laughter gets him higher than even the best weed in the world. He wishes he could record it and listen to it all day long. Maybe one day he’ll ask if he can do that, but at this moment he’ll take what he can get.

Your laughter dies down and you’re trying to get back to work, which Eddie just could not accept, so he develops a plan. He initially wanted to buy Mountain Dew when he went into the convenience store, but they were unfortunately out so he went for Sprite instead. He looks over to you, looking adorable as always, especially when you’re deep in focus. Your brows are furrowed as you read a sentence out under your breath and tap your pen against the paper in frustration.

Eddie nudges you to get your attention and motions to one of the bottles of sprite that he’s pulling out of his bag. You watch him in confusion and curiosity as he unscrews the cap and begins to chug it. You watch his adam's apple bob as he’s drinking it, momentarily pausing to grimace and choke out, “This was a horrible idea,” before resuming the challenge he had set out for himself. You’re a little worried he might throw up from this but at the same time you’re curious to see if he can actually do it. It’s still not looking good for him though, judging by the way his face is contorting in pain and his free hand is now gripping his stomach.

Miraculously, he manages to down the entire bottle without puking. Eddie throws the bottle down on the ground and the hand once holding the sprite is now gripping the table. His head is hung low and he’s panting heavily. You’re leaning in to get a better look at him and place a cautious hand on his back.

He’s silent and keeps his head hung low. You scoot closer to him, your thighs now touching his and ask, “Ed, you okay?” and he shakes his head. His eyes are shut, he looks like he’s holding something back. You’re about to ask him if he needs anything - tums, water, hell maybe even an ambulance - before he speaks up.

“Sweetheart, I think I’m dying. There’s no saving me now.”

You’re glad he’s at least feeling well enough to make a joke - you think he’s joking. Second later, his eyes open wide in fear. He lets go of the table and is now fully bent over in pain. It’s a little hard to hear, but you swear you hear him say to himself, “This was the worst decision I’ve made in my entire life.”

Your concern for him intensifies and you begin to rub his back, trying to think of something, anything to help relieve the immense discomfort he’s feeling. He’s also becoming very quiet, and you’ve never known him to be a quiet person. He’s always making some noise, either tapping his pen against something or humming a tune under his breath. His shoes are always loud so everyone can hear him walking into a room. You’re sure he also snores when he sleeps, because you cannot imagine him just sleeping peacefully at night.

Finally, Eddie makes a noise.

The burp that comes out of Eddie doesn’t sound real. It’s akin to something you’d hear in a kids show because of how loud and exaggerated it sounded. There are a few people sitting at the next table who hear Eddie belch and look over at you two, and one of them even looks a little impressed. Eddie is once again quiet, but he looks less pained and more embarrassed by what just occurred. Your hand stops rubbing circles into his back and he’s relieved you haven’t removed it yet - it’s probably the only thing keeping him from running away. He soon looks up at you and plainly says, “I, uh, I thought I was gonna die.”

You nod and pat his back, but your hand still doesn’t move away from him. He’s honestly looking a little embarrassed and you didn’t even know he could get like that. In all the time you’ve known Eddie, you’ve always known him to be loud and proud, so this is something entirely new. You try to lighten the mood by saying, “I wouldn’t let you go that easily. You’re one of my best friends now so you’re stuck with me forever.” He smiles at that, and you can tell he’s starting to feel better by the small chuckle he let out. He’s looking down at his hands and playing with his rings again.

Eddie noticed how your hand never left his back and he could feel the warmth of it through his layers. He lifts his head slightly and you see him looking at you through his bangs. In that moment, you wish you could always look at him like this, just inches away from each other and no other friends to interrupt the moment. Every time you two were alone together every second felt so intimate. The bleary-eyed breakfasts, late night facetime calls where you two discussed your hopes and dreams, the times you would get high in his car and share your favorite songs with each other. Every moment was so cherished and you could only imagine the possibilities if things advanced between you two, if you became something more. More late night talks, he might put an arm around you during your movie nights, maybe you could go on some impromptu dates once midterms were over. They were nice ideas and all, but you had to shut them down before you began daydreaming about the man who sat beside you and almost died from drinking too much Sprite.

Instead of letting yourself get lost in your fantasies you turn your focus back to making Eddie smile since he always did the same for you. The eye contact was back but he had a smile that took your breath away every time. You (begrudgingly) take your hand off his back and nudge his shoulder with yours. “Nah, I knew you’d make it through that… so are you gonna chug that second bottle?” Eddie scoffs at the idea and playfully slaps your arm, finally laughing again and shaking his head.

“You’re insane if you think I’m EVER doing that shit again!” You watch as he gets up to jog over to the recycling bin and toss his empty Sprite bottle inside. Eddie turns around to see you pouting and giving him your best puppy dog eyes. He would definitely do it again since it made you happy, but he didn’t want you to see him actually throw up that time. “That look is NOT going to work on me, sweetheart. Don’t pull that shit on me!”

You try your best to ignore the comment and instead look down at your incomplete translation, deciding it best to focus on your studies and not the possible feelings he could have for you. Reluctantly, you take your hand off his back and say, “Okay! Let’s get back to work, shall we?”

Eddie nods his head and you go back to your schoolwork, but Eddie instead minimizes his music program and begins looking things up online. You don’t notice for a couple minutes until you look over at him to sneak another peek at his face and see that he’s scrolling through Netflix. You tap your pen against the laptop screen and say, “Hey. That’s not homework, close that.”

Eddie bats your hand away and clicks to Prime Video and opens the horror category up again. You speak up again, “You know, if you’re planning to write a song based on a horror movie there’s another band that already beat you to that. It might become their whole thing in the future.”

He’s ignoring you now and opens up a few more tabs with movies. You’re now as distracted as he is, leaning in to point out movies you liked or movies you wanted to see. Eddie stops looking at the screen and is now looking at your face, completely mesmerized by your beauty. He can’t believe you’d ever want to hang out with a guy like him.

“Hey, uh–“, Eddie scratches at the back of his head as he tries to figure out how to ask this without stumbling over his words and making himself look like an idiot in front of you “– we should do a movie night tonight, we haven’t had one in like two weeks. Are you free?”

You hesitate for a moment, mentally going over your schedule for the night. This was your only homework that had to be finished by tonight and the rest of your assignments can be finished tomorrow. Even if they were all due tomorrow, you’d much rather spend time with Eddie watching a movie together. The fits of laughter when someone dies, ordering pizza and arguing which snacks to eat after dinner, curling up under the blankets with your knees grazing each other. Lingering glances when your hands touch and the blush that always appears on Eddie’s cheeks when you two accidentally lock eyes. Those nights you let your mind wander, and wonder if maybe you could have a future with Eddie. Maybe you two could be more than friends. Perhaps you could have more than momentarily looks and brief touches. For now, you’ll take every moment you can get with him.

You respond to him with a smile, saying, “For you? I’m always free.”

Eddie is continuing to look nervous, his hands moving from his laptop to under the table and fiddling with the rings on his hands. He’s biting at his lip and going over his next words in his head, but sets them aside for later. He shifts his attention back to the tabs he had pulled up previously, clicking between a few possible choices.

“Ok, cool. So we have a few options… uh, there’s A Quiet Place, I think you said you haven’t watched that yet. We still haven’t finished our Saw marathon, so maybe we could do that? Or,”” Eddie clicks over to one last tab, the preview picture showing a silhouette of a giant deer standing in front of a burning house with what looked like hands hanging from its face, “we could watch The Ritual. This one looks amazing.”

You take his laptop and tilt it towards you and read through the summary given by the streaming service and scroll down to the reviews - they’re all positive and talk about how unnerving the movie is. The eerie imagery combined with the whole movie being set in the woods already had your skin crawling. You don’t notice yourself doing it, but you start smiling as you read each review talking about how this movie gave people nightmares and how they could never look at a forest the same again. Once you hit the bottom of the page, you turn the laptop back to Eddie and confidently say, “Eddie, we have to watch that.”

He’s nodding and closes his laptop for now before fully turning to you. There’s a constant hum of students in the walkways in front of you as they’re all let out of class, and Eddie finds it a little calming as he tries to figure out what to say. He hesitates a little before biting the bullet.

“How would you feel about making it a date?”

You blink a few times as you try to process what he just asked you. Maybe your parents were right and you really were damaging your hearing by listening to your music too loud because there’s no way you just heard Eddie Munson ask you out. There are so many things you want to ask. Why? Are you sick? Is this a joke? Please don’t let it be a joke.

All you can muster is a confused, “What?” before Eddie has to begin explaining himself.

“I’ve wanted to ask you out ever since I’ve met you, but I’ve been scared that you might not feel the same way and I might ruin our friendship,” Eddie takes your hand in his and then takes the other which was currently sitting on your lap. There’s a constant hum around you two as people are leaving their classes and making their ways to their destinations, whether it be their next class, the commuter lounge, or home for the day. You can barely hear it over the sound of your heart beat. Eddie continues on, “Steve told me the other day that he was sick of watching me stare at you like a lovesick puppy and said he was pretty sure you liked me back, so I figured I might as well try…”

You look down at his hands and a drop of water falls down onto one of them. Is it raining? No, you’re crying. Hurriedly, you reach to wipe the tear away hoping Eddie doesn’t notice but how could he not when he’s been watching you this entire time. His hand beats you to it and wipes the following tears away. In a hushed tone, he asks, “Hey, hey, sweetheart, what’s wrong?” It’s that damn pet name again. You weren’t imagining things - he doesn’t treat everyone like this, you realize, this is all real.

Your eyes shut but the tears continue to fall. Thankfully, you manage to keep the noise to a minimum to avoid any unwanted attention. Between quiet sobs, you say, “I’m sorry, but nobody has ever liked me, and I couldn’t imagine anyone ever liking me back. I’m just not used to this. I thought this could only ever happen in my dreams.”

Eddie stays quiet as you tearfully explain your lack of dating history and the guys in school only ever asking you out as a joke, how it wrecked your self-esteem and by the time you were halfway through college you just gave up. Never in a million years did you imagine someone like Eddie would ever like you, but here he is. Eddie’s hand stays on you, eventually moving from your cheek down to your shoulder and down to your arm. It’s a comforting reminder that again, this is real and he’s there.

Once you’ve finished explaining yourself, Eddie squeezes the one hand he’s still holding. He says, “I wish I could have met you earlier, whether it be earlier in college or high school. I wish I could have made you realize how beautiful you are and shower you with compliments until you finally see yourself in the same way that I see you - as the most beautiful, stunning, perfect person in the entire universe. And sweetheart, if you let me, I promise to start right fucking now.”

You had to be dreaming at that point because Eddie Munson does not feel real to you. Either you’re dreaming or your daydreams have gotten a little too realistic. You chew at your lip and ask him, “You’re really serious?”

“As serious as a heart attack. Now, is that a date?”

You feel your face flush and nod sheepishly, having to break eye contact and look down at your conjoined hands. Eddie chuckles at your reaction and gives your hands a squeeze before he unfortunately lets go of them. He turns to face his laptop again and opens it back up before saying, “Great, now let’s get back to work, shall we?”

A few hours later, Eddie returns to his shared apartment with Steve with a pep in his step. He’s humming a little tune and places his backpack next to the door. Steve is lounging on the couch playing video games after class, having changed into a Hawkins Basketball hoodie and black sweats, when Eddie arrives and he’s immediately suspicious of him. It reminds Steve of the day that Eddie met you so he has an inkling of an idea of what could have happened today. Sure, Eddie has been in a better mood ever since the two of you reunited, but even this was a bit much.

Steve pauses the level and rests the controller on his chest before looking at his roommate - Eddie pads over to the kitchen and opens the fridge to survey the contents of it. After that he goes through each of the light oak cabinets, taking note of the snacks available to them. He’s talking to himself, something like, “The regular popcorn should be fine, right? She hasn’t complained about it so far…” and pulls his phone out to tap a quick message away. Eddie turns to the living room to head towards his room when he finally notices Steve. “Oh, Steve! Hey uh, can you do me a huge favor?”

Steve cocks a brow at Eddie and replies with a cautious, “Okay…? What is it?”

Eddie walks over to Steve on the couch and shoves a hand in his pocket, the other scratching at his stubble on his chin. Should he shave? No, you already saw him like this earlier. It would be weird if you came over and saw that he shaved. “Can you like… fuck off for the rest of the night?”

Steve scoffs and fully sits up, the video game controller long forgotten now and falls from his chest to his lap and onto the carpeted floor. “You want me to fuck off? Last time I checked we both live here.”

Eddie realized how that sounded the moment he closed his mouth and was already fumbling over his words to try and sound like less of a tool.

“I mean, I just need the place for a few hours. You’ve asked me to do the same thing, remember? Please.”

The former jock pulls a leg up to rest on the couch to lean on it. “Yeah man, but that’s for when Nancy comes over. Like, for a date.”

“Well, I… ok so,” Eddie shuffles his feet and kicks at the leg of the coffee table, looking up at Steve and raises his eyebrows at him, “I did as you told me to today.”

It takes Steve a second to realize what he’s talking about because, frankly, Steve has asked Eddie to do a lot of things. Like the dishes and to take out the bathroom trash. Also, Eddie can be a bit of a dumbass sometimes. Then, it clicks. He shoots up off the couch, the controller falling onto the carpeted floor with a muffled thump.

“Jesus Christ, you finally fucking did it. You asked her out? Seriously?”

Eddie squints and leans in, lowering his head and speaks in a hushed voice. “No Steve, i asked out the lady that works at the fucking dining hall. We have a real connection and bonded over the fucking pancakes. OF COURSE I ASKED HER OUT, YOU DUMBASS.”

Steve narrowly misses the coffee table as he runs past it to pull Eddie into a bear hug. Eddie is awkwardly standing there but eventually hugs his roommate and even laughs a little. He would never say this, but Steve is actually proud of Eddie for finally telling you how he felt. Steve swore he’d never see the day where his best friend would finally confess his feelings towards you. In fact, he was so confident that he and Robin made bets on it.

Steve remembers this and pulls away with a huff as he silently pads to the couch to grab his phone. Eddie watches him in confusion as his roommate seemingly angrily taps away on his phone. When Steve eventually looks up with pursed lips, Eddie cocks an eyebrow as if to ask what’s going on?

Steve states, “I owe Robin $25 now.”

taglist: @justalotoffanfiction @iyskgd

#eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #scripsi

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butchpeace · 2 days ago

Note

I hope this gets to as many people as it can, don't care if it's TERFS or trans people.

From 2020-2023 (and the very start of 2024), I idenfied as trans, demiboy, transmale, nonbinary, and my feelings were very genuine. I didn't really relate the word "woman" to me, I didn't have a "feminine" behaviour, our "girl" insterests. It felt real to me. To add, I had a really complicated relationship with my body, I genuinely hated my breasts, I swear, I used to avoid any reflection of myself. And later on at develop a deep disgust to my own organ, thinking it was "weird" and that a penis would probably "feel" better.

To spoiler it all, I no longer identify as trans, nor these feelings that made me relate to this label. It was a weird process, "weird" means I don't know how I got out ot it, but I'm happy I did, and that's when I get troubled.

Very, very recently, I got "terfy", I don't know how to describe, but I've been getting lots of radfem posts on the bird app, and I can't fight but to deeply agree, sometimes even with the transphobic ones... which makes me feel bad because I do respect trans people and have simpathy, but at the same time I don't know what to do because it makes much sense what these radfems say.

I'm seventeen so please try to be patient 🥲 sorry for any english errors it's not my mother language. Please I want opnions.

Honestly, the reason you agree with “terf” ideas and opinions is that they’re right. Transition is never the right option. It’s bad for women and it’s bad for us to lose female-only spaces. It’s just feminism 💜

#ask #feminism #trans #detrans #radical feminism #radblr #detransition

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sorrygotthesesacks · 2 days ago

Text

This hits on so many of the scenes that I point to when discussing FloRid. I shared the entirety of Floyd’s school uniform vignette with someone before they were into twst. Me: "Just look at them!”

Might I also add to the above list:

Phantom Bride event

Riddle is bristling over not being considered a suitable suitor because he isn't over 180cm tall. Floyd says "Oh, man, you can't reach the 'You must be this tall' sign?" - tells Riddle being small has its own charm - and then pretends not to see Riddle: "Where's Goldfishie? Did he just disappear?"

When Riddle asks what he's talking about because he's right there, Floyd goes back to teasing: "Oh, THERE you are. I couldn't see you from up here!" Of course, Riddle's face turns his trademark red.

But then after the final battle, it's Riddle that Floyd talks to: "You're one powerful goldfishie!" and "Seein' all that got me in the mood to throw down. C'mon, punch me a little."

And Riddle doesn’t straight out say No! He replies, "This is not the time nor the place!"

Camp Vargas

In Chapter 5, Simply Better Trained, a few students have gone to fetch blankets for the night. Floyd and Riddle are next to each other, and Floyd asks, "What'sa matter, Goldfishie? You're tremblin', and your lips are all blue. You won't be a goldfish no more if your hair turns blue too. Whaddaya think I should call you then?"

Naturally, Riddle turns red with rage: "Grrr...you never lay off, do you? Not even in an emergency!"

To which Floyd replies: "Ahahaha now you're all red! Glad you warmed up."

This is very much like the way Floyd got Riddle all riled up before Riddle went home for break in Book 4.

In the very next chapter, when the shadow attacks, Riddle throws himself in front of Sebek. That leaves just four of them who haven't been captured. They are all saying how everything happened so fast and Floyd says: "Even Goldfishie's gone. That shadow's gotta be mighty strong."

Which again shows that Floyd really does respect Riddle, even if he teased him in:

Beanfest (Bean or Be Beaned)

Floyd again teases Riddle for not pulling his weight. He says that without his magic, he's like a goldfish out of water. "Shouldn't a housewarden be...better?" Then follows it up with "But hey, don't worry - any monsters try to attack you, I'll scare 'em off myself. You can just huddle up and hide behind me."

Riddle, in response: "Grrr GET YOUR ARM OFF MY SHOULDER THIS INSTANT."

Other instances I think of when I think of the dynamic between Riddle and Floyd:

Trey's ceremonial robes vignette

Trey tries to calm Riddle down because Riddle is, as always, concerned that everything is per the Queen of Hearts' rules. He tells Trey "If only Floyd had not meddled, we would have finished most everything yesterday."

To which Trey replies: "Yeah, I have noticed Floyd following you around a lot lately, with that big grin on his face."

This is mirrored in -

Jade's ceremonial robes vignette

Jade and Azul are discussing preparations for orientation, and after Azul leaves, Riddle catches Jade in the hallway. He asks "Please do something about Floyd," stating "he is interfering with Heartslabyul's welcome party preparations!"

Then we see a dialogue box in which Floyd calls out, "Oh, Goooldfishie! Where you at?"

Riddle charges Jade with keeping Floyd in line, as Octavinelle's vice housewarden, and after Riddle leaves, Floyd catches up with Jade.

"Oh, Jade. Have you seen Goldfishie? We were having such a great time together, but then he up and vanished."

Floyd sees their interactions as playful and fun.

And then there’s Jade himself.

Floyd’s labwear vignette

Floyd is upset after being chewed out by Crewel. He runs into Jade and Riddle in the hall and Floyd tells Riddle "No offense, Goldfishie, but I ain't in the mood today. I'll play with you some other time."

When Riddle starts protesting being called a goldfish, Floyd cuts him off to say he's going for a walk.

Riddle asks Jade: "He's awfully taciturn today. Is he in another one of his snits?"

Which means that this is not the first time Riddle has seen Floyd act this way. When Jade says that he occasionally has episodes like this, but today it seems to have hit him especially hard, Riddle replies, "He's too moody by half, if you ask me" but follows it up with "Is there a reason for it?"

Riddle could have just left it there, but he wanted to know why Floyd wasn't his usual self.

Jade explains that "problems and pet peeves have nothing to do with it" and that he likes it best when Floyd is in his element, enjoying things as they come.

"Conversely, I suppose it's nice for you when Floyd's out of sorts, since it means he's not picking on you."

And then this crafty, crafty eel asks, “Or do you actually miss it?”

I know this is Jade’s form of teasing - Riddle has flat out said that Jade is worse than Floyd - but that doesn’t mean it’s not a valid question.

(I think that Riddle does miss it. It's been part of his experience at NRC since orientation. And Floyd's fascination has not waned one bit. How can I not love these two together?)

A FloRid Analysis using science (but only at the beginning)

I would like to preface that post by saying that I am not a biology -or scientific- expert at all. I am a humanities major -more specifically a foreign languages one- who just happen to have developped a huge hyperfixation on Twisted Wonderland, its story and characters. And it so happen that FloRid is my OTP. So, brainrot happened.

The hyperfixation and brainrot went so far that I started to hoard facts about octopodes and eels here and there, reading scientific papers written by biologist when the last time I had a science class was like... In first year of high school (en 2nde, pour mes amis francophones)

Okay, so. FloRid. Floyd and Riddle. One of the most appreciated ships in the twst community, being the 4th ship with the most fanfics on Ao3 (with 727 fanfics when I’m writing these words), just behind KaliJami, MalleYuu and RookVil (in this order). I saw a lot of people discussing these two with varying degrees of media literacy (I see you, who claims that this ship is “problematic” because it is a bully x victim ship.). And while I really like to read all of those takes (except the bully x victim one. You’re missing the point sweetie by saying that) and I wanted to add my two cents on that matter.

A while ago, back in September 2024, I stumbled on a twitter thread on FloRid. I can’t find it again, too far back, sorry for that. Basically, what the thread was about, was that Floyd’s interest in Riddle spawned in the fact that Riddle is red, and red doesn’t exist underwater.(see photos below)

It isn’t really that red doesn’t "exist" in aquatic environments, moreso that the wavelength for that colour is absorbed by the environment not that deep (around 6 metres underwater for those (like me) who use the metric system). Oh, by the way, if someone has an explanation of why the hot pink is still as vibrant that deep, I would love to hear that !

So basically, red starts to "disappear" around 6 metres deep, and is completely black around 24 metres deep. It is, let’s be honest, not that deep, especially when we compare to the depths of the ocean.

In fact, red "disappears" in what is called the epipelagic zone - or sunlight zone - the first level of the ocean (see photo below). Which is interesting since, in our world, all species of moray eels live in that zone. And, as it is well known, the Tweels are based on moray eels (possibly Green Moray Eels if we follow the colour scheme of their characters), so, in our world, they would live not that deep below the surface (at depths down to 40 metres (130ft)). Which isn’t true in the game, as it is mentioned multiple times that the Coral Sea is deep below the surface.

As we can see on the picture, the Sun won’t go deeper than 1,000 metres (3280ft) below the surface, and the Octatrio mentions once or twice that there’s no sunlight where they come from. On the wiki, we can read :

"It is said to be very dark and cold and has a smaller population than countries primarily inhabited by humans"

Twisted Wonderland wiki, World, Locations, Coral Sea

So, where am I heading with that ? Well, did you know that Moray eels can’t see colours ? Indeed, in a research done in 2011 by researchers of the Tawain Ocean Research Institute as well as the Sensory Biology Laboratory of the Academia Sinica in Taiwan, simply named "A comparative study on the visual adaptations of four species of moray eels" , the researchers have proven that the four species of moray eels studies are colourblind. They, in fact, can only perceive green and its shades/tints, meaning that, even if it was possible to perceive the colour red underwater, Floyd, in his eel form, wouldn’t be able to see it.

There is a technical side, one that shows that moray eels only have one type cone cells (cells present in our eyes to process colours) in their eyes, to explain this colour blindness (in comparison, human beings typically have three types of cone cells : red, green and blue). The only type of cone cells moray eels possess, as I mentioned earlier, is the green one. The closest example we, as humans, can have regarding this sort of colour blindness is the red-green colour blindness (here, "protanopia"), or the complete bolour blindness ("monochromatism")

(if you can’t see the difference at some point, I have some news for you...)

Basically, in the aquatic world, everyone has protanopia since red isn’t perceived, but moray eels are monochromastics since their eyes can only process greens. (Can I add that the colour palette for tritanopia is really pretty ?)

In the game, it is mentioned multiple times that Floyd couldn’t perceive red at all before coming on land. And the best example is the Stitch event (aka the FloRid event. There’s so much content on these two inside) where Floyd explicitly says that red looks black underwater.

"Colours look a lot different underwater. It only sticks out ‘cuz it’s on land. A red like this would look black in the deep sea where we’re from. You’d barely be able to tell it apart from a rock."

Twisted Wonderland, Stitch’s Tropical Turbulence chapter 3-2-3 "Sparkling in the Sand"

Here, Floyd only presents the fact that the wavelength for red is absorbed by its environment. He says nothing on the fact that he and Jade are supposedly completely colour blind (and just. Basically blind since moray eels are famously known for their shitty vision) before taking their potions. And we have seen time and time again that both twin’s vision and perception of colours on land is pretty good. Just the fact that Floyd can note how red Riddle is, as well as how he was able to see him in a crowd during their orientation (or just how he is able to see small details here and there), is a good indicator of that change between their life in the sea and their life on land. Would it have been funny, and really interesting to make the Tweels colourblind on land ? Yes. Yes it would have been amazing. But alas, I love my two chaos junkies the way they are and wouldn’t have it any other way.

Where did I want to go with that ? Well, if it wasn’t obvious already, I think that Floyd’s interest in Riddle spawns from the fact that Riddle represents something inherently new for Floyd.

When you think of the colour red in regards of twst, you would think of Riddle at some point. I mean, the guy is in the red dorm, his hair is red, he gets red from rage really easily (and the colour usually associated with rage is red), he’s based on the Queen of Hearts, the red queen... Oh and his element in his dorm Uniform card is fire. Red (even if we can completely debate over the fact that fire IRL tends to be more orange than red). That’s a lot of red for a 160cm tall guy, don’t you think ?

Oh, and Riddle was the first person to send Floyd flying, as highlited in Floyd’s Beans Camo vignette.

"Y’know, back at my orientation, a guy way tinier than me used magic to blast me through the air. All I did was razz him a little, and he just SNAPPED. His face was so red, it was almost like he was on fire"

"There weren’t many guys stronger than me under the sea. But here ? This school is crawling with people like that."

Twisted Wonderland, Floyd Beens Camo Vignette,"Nowhere Near the Best" Part.3

If it isn’t said outwradly that the "guy way tinier" than Floyd is Riddle, is it easily understandable from the whole Beanfest event, with Vil telling Epel that Riddle and Floyd had been at each other’s throat ever since their orientation (while adding that every orientation he lived had something disrupting it. What happened during your orientation Vil ? I want to know !), we can also undertsand that the guy was Riddle with Epel’s reaction, stating that "Vil wasn’t kidding about what he said before", referencing Vil’s words.

Oh, and, wan we talk just a second about the groovy of that card ?

In the vignette, this scene happens between the two quotes I used (the tiny guy sending Floyd flying and the fact that Floyd’s pretty strong). Let’s be true five seconds, trying to not look with a shipping lense through that.

WHO LOOKS LIKE THAT WHILE TELLING THAT KIND OF STORY ???

I mean, even while taking Floyd’s persona and character as a whole into account, that’s just the face someone makes when sharing a good memory with a loved one, or someone they’re proud of (my own twin makes that face when they talk about their -adopted- children).

And I even went to ask friends of mine about that face, without telling them the context just "okay, what do you think is happening right now ?" and (without taking into account that one friend who made a lousy joke) the majority of them just answered "he’s ogling his crush". And I mean. Yeah... Yeah that’s definetly the face someone would make when watching their crush. (after telling the whole context, the first answer I got was "Yeah no, he’s masochistic" and I can’t really go against that...). Most of those convo where in French and in between is littered more private convo so I won’t give you any screenshot of that, just know that my friends -some of which aren’t even in fandom spaces- are just as unanimous than I am. That eel is down bad.

On my first draft for that document, I spent a whole 10 paragraphs on their orientation, going as far as trying to explain that Floyd’s interest in Riddle wasn’t firstly based on his hair colour, nor really on his size, but on his strength. I won’t go as deeply into details as in my first draft, but let’s just be clear on that point.

It is said multiple times -as well as shown- that students are expected to wear their hoods during orientation. We see that during the prologue as well as during most Ceremonial Robes vignettes that takes place during (or diretcly after) orientation. For example in Epel’s vignette, we see him and Vil wearing their hoods up, and it is mentioned once or twice by the Savanaclaw guys that they have to keep their hoods up during orientation (which brings them a lot of problems, seeing that the hoods aren’t made for their ears). So, in no world would have Floyd seen Riddle’s hair colour before his altercation with Riddle. His interest first spawned because of Riddle’s magical strength. And the fact that our little guy became housewarden only one week after orientation cemented that interest. I mean, someone that strong ought to be interesting, no ?

Oh and, I won’t go into details here, since it’s not on NA server already, but during Floyd’s dream section, and from what I understand from a reddit post explaining the Octatrio dreams, Floyd starts to remember reality after Silver mentions what really happened during their orientation, with Riddle sending him flying. Ooooh I can’t wait to see that part on the eng server ! More info pleaaaase.

Another point of interest of mine is Floyd’s nicknames. They are based on people’s characteristics, whatever that characteristic may be. For that, Vil is Betta since betta fish are renowed for being beautiful, Ruggie is sharksucker since he’s (literally) sucking off of Leona. And Riddle is Goldfish(ie) (in the sense that officially Floyd calls Riddle "Goldfish" but everyone in the fandom ended up calling him "Goldfishie").

Some points on Goldfish here. First of all, despite their name in English, Goldfish in the modern world tend to be more red than gold-coloured (in French they are called "poisson rouge", literally "red fish" for that fact), but they also are an invasive species once released into the wild. Oh and they are mostly kept as pets by humans.

And, who was kept as a "pet" most of his life by someone, is famously red, and once he was "released" into the world acted somewhat invasive in the life of other people ?

At the time of giving Riddle his nickname, Floyd wouldn’t have known what was going on behind closed doors (or maybe he knew, with Jade fetching information on anyone and everyone for Azul, it’s a possibility) but I find that really funny that Riddle’s nickname suits him on more points than him being small and red (I’m putting once again the screenshot of Floyd saying that, but it’s the exact same one as the one I put at the very beginning of the analysis)

(to think that I took this screenshot a when I first started playing...)

I’d like to point out that this is the first -and only if I’m not mistaken- instance of Floyd explaining the reasoning behind one of his nicknames. While I saw him name other characters here and there (with this specific card, he names professor Trein at one point in his Home Taps) he never goes to length to explain the reasoning behind a nickname. And to be honest, the reason behind this screenshot was to go scream at my friends that he’s completely unpromted. Riddle just spawns in the conversation out of the blue. And, I mean, when you’re interested in someone/something, you usually find a way to include them/it into the conversation. Especially when you’re neurodivergent.

And we come to my next point : Floyd’s neurodivergence.

The boy has ADHD. Is it canon ? Well, it’s not said clearly but it is shown in some points. ShoujoISM made a really good video on that matter some time ago, and that video explains my own point of view on the subject really well, so I won’t go into that many details here. But, if you’re not really interested in watching a 52 minutes long video essay (which, let’s be honest, with the attention span of our generation, would be completely fair), I’ll try to summarise as fast as possiblie with just that sentence : Floyd checks most of the points of diagnosis for ADHD in the DSM-V-TR.

As a fellow ADHD-er with a huge hyperfixation on mental illnesses, I tend to have fun seeing if some characters check the boxes for some diagnosis I headcannon them to have. And, after watching that video, I opened my version of the DSM-V-TR (yes. I have a pdf of that book.) and checked myself every criteria for ADHD and... yeah, no, he fits into the boxes so well. And with the prevalence of neurodivergence in the cast (especially depressive characters), it wouldn’t be extrapolation to say that when Yana created Floyd, she had ADHD in mind.

One of the main points of ADHD is hyperfixation (aka, what is driving me to write fanfic and analyses of those characters) and hyperfocus. And Floyd is shown having periods of hyperfocus. Like that time he hyperfocused on learning how to dunk for 2 days straight. Azul even makes note of that in Floyd’s Tropical Wear vignette.

"My word... When you put your mind to something you want to do, your focus is incredible. I wish you could maintain that attidute when you’re on the clock"

Twisted Wonderland, Floyd Tropical Wear vignette, "Flying Jellyfish", Part.1

Usually, a period of hyperfocus can be a relatively "short" period of time, but it so happens that in people with ADHD, who usually struggle with this exact perception of time, hyperfocus periods can be counted as pretty long for neurotypicals, or neurodivergent people that don’t experience them. As someone who has lived through hyperfocus periods, time seems to just. Not exist, so for Floyd to spend two whole days trying to master a dunk just because it looked fun ; it doesn’t seem that long for me (as a personnal experience, I was once so engrossed and hyperfocused on a paper for uni that I spend more or less a whole week on that paper, skipping classes and everything else...)

And for me, Floyd has a sort of hyperfocus on Riddle. Not really in the sens that he can spend days thinking of him and do nothing else, but more on the sense that he can find the other in a crowd easily, and is just looking for Riddle really often. In Floyd’s School Uniform vignette, it is implied that Floyd looking for Riddle in the library is a common occurence, and it is shown multiple times in the game (in the main story as well as in events) that when confronted to a crowd, Floyd will find Riddle first. For example, in the scene at the beginning of Book 4 where everyone is in the Mirror Chamber, the whole Heartshackle gang is discussing, surrounded by literally the whole school, Floyd makes a beeline towards our group and the first person he talks to is Riddle. Same at the beginning of the Stitch event, when Floyd comes into the library and comes across our group, the first person he talks to is Riddle. Keyhole vision, this is what I call this.

And hyperfixation. You would mostly know what this is is you’re chronically online or in the mental illness side of social medias (especially tiktok). From what I experienced and what I saw with my ADHD friends, sometimes, hyperfocus is caused by a hyperfixation. And in the case of Floyd and his "I really want to learn how to dunk" mindset at that time, we can quite easily conclude that that state of hyperfocus was born from his hyperfixation at the time on basketball.

It is mentioned at some point in the game that Floyd’s interest is fleeting, meanning that even his hyperfixations don’t last that long (once again, from a neurotypical point of view). He kinda abandonned basketball at some point, still going to his club activities when he deems them to be interesting. But do you know what kind of activity he has deemed interesting for quite a while now ? Bothering Riddle. It has been a whole year (at the beginning of the game) since their first meeting, and this dopamine addicted eel is still looking for his Goldfishie. Because Goldfishie is interesting. Riddle keeps on being interesting to Floyd, the same way that Azul is. And, I mean, from what we can see when we see Azul and Riddle’s interactions with Floyd, they don’t seem to go out of their ways to entertain him, and act mostly "in character" for them (Azul being overly calculating and mumbling about the problems that Floyd causes and Riddle being quick to enrage). Yet, Floyd keeps finding things interesting with them. I mean, outside of Jade, Floyd stuck himself to Azul (and Riddle to some extent) the longest. So they must have something in them that makes them so interesting to him (I have a whole lot of rambling on Riddle and Azul since they’re my fav characters (along with the Tweels) so I get you Floyd. They’re really interesting).

And, in a way, Floyd seems to care on a deeper level only to the people he deems intereting (aka. Jade, Azul and Riddle). We can see his care for his brother in multiple ways, his care for Azul in Book 3 before Azul Overblots (really well depicted in the manga btw) and his care for Riddle is littered here and there.

First of all, begining of Book 4. Floyd (and the rest of the Octatrio) comes to meet us in the Mirror Chamber and... Proposes to Riddle to stay with him over the winter holiday ? My boy you’re really down bad you know that ?

Seriously, we can easily understand that Floyd realised that Riddle was hesitant to go back to his mother for the break, and his first reaction is not "well, you can always count on your friends, and go to them" (Trey even proposed !). No. His first reaction was like, welp, you can always stay with me. The way the chapters are made, Book 4 chapter 3 ends with Floyd’s interjection.

"What’sa matter Goldfishie ? Don’t wanna go home ? Then, there’s an idea : don’t. We’re not. C’mon, you can join us in the stay-at-school club. Heh heh !"

Twisted Wonderland, Book 4 "Schemer of the Scalding Sands", Chapter 4 "A Sendoff from Morays"

It’s literally the first two dialogues of the chapter. I didn’t go further, but Riddle gets irked by Floyd sticking his nose in his business and Jade chimes in to temperate things between the two. Floyd then retorts something quite interesting for me :

"Aw, c’mon Jade. It’s boring spending every new year with the same old suspects. Besides, Goldfishie’s so teeny, I’m sure Azul would love to keep him as a pet !"

Twisted Wonderland, Book 4 "Schemer of the Scalding Sands", Chapter 4 "A Sendoff from Morays"

Riddle answers by becoming all red from rage and is really close to trying to collar Floyd. The rage is defused by Trey and the rest of Heartslabyul, but I’d like to point something quite interesting. In the end of chapter 3 (after having discussed with the Savanaclaw trio), Riddle is shown to be out of the loop, Ace and Grim making remarks on that note :

"Huh, he’s soundin’ kinda defeated."

"Oh, right. The housewarden’s got an extreme case of helicopter parenting waiting for him at home. No wonder he’s not enthused about heading back."

Twisted Wonderland, Book 4 "Schemer of the Scalding Sands", Chapter 3 "Leaving for the Holidays"

We can more or less see the Heartshackle gang trying to cheer up their friend, but nothing seems to work. Until Floyd appears, makes a beeline for the redhead and angers him. And I mean, a reaction, even as "bad" as that one is still a better outcome than whatever he was feeling before. Even Trey notices it.

"Good grief. Well, at least he’s got his moxie back."

Twisted Wonderland, Book 4 "Schemer of the Scalding Sands", Chapter 4 "A Sendoff from Morays"

It is quite easy to see, with minimum media literacy at play, that what Floyd was doing was trying to ellicit a reaction -any reaction- from Riddle, in a convoluted way of, not cheering him up per say, but making him concentrate on something else, something that is not what hell would be waiting for him at his house. And he succeded. Any punishment he would have possibly faced hadn’t Riddle been stopped by Trey and Cater would have been fair game in his book (and he would have defused the spell either way).

I’m probably over analysing that but I can’t remember a moment in the whole game (in the parts I played at least) where Floyd is shown caring that much for someone. I mean, his words are the literal reason why Azul overblotted (I’m pretty sure that if Floyd hadn’t say what he said to Azul at that time, the overblot would have happened, yes, but a bit later if not at all). Floyd is the exact definition of not really caring outwardly for people ! But here, he is shown caring -in some convoluted ways once again- for Riddle who is clearly distressed about going back to his mother. And I found that the jab of keeping Riddle as a pet is somewhat sarcasticly funny. I mean, Riddle’s mother is treating her son like a doll, or a pet to train and show off. It shows, in some ways, that Floyd is aware of what happens in Riddle home life at that point in the story. Was it through rumors after his overblot, or did he piece the puzzle himself after havig seen Riddle’s reaction to going back to his mother’s during their first year ? We will probably never know.

What I also want to say by that, is that Floyd is deeply intelligent. Not just academically, but emotionally too. He’s probably the most emotionally intelligent guy in the whole cast, contrary to what he lets on (reminds me of Perceval in Kaamelott in some ways). He also possesses a really good sense of ebservation. Once again, in his Beans Camo vignette, he realises that if he lets Epel grow freely, the little guy might become a worthy opponent.

"I was gonna let him get a little roughed up to remind him who's boss, but hey. If I let Guppy keep swimmin', he might grow into a meal worth eating one day. I'll lay off him for now. After all, it'll be way more fun to crush him when he's strong and all sure of himself. Aha ha."

Twisted Wonderland, Floyd Beens Camo Vignette,"Nowhere Near the Best" Part.3

And I’m not sure if, at the time of the vignette happening, Epel has developped his unique magic. It’s possible, but not of good use since the use of magic is prohibited during Beanfest.

Anyway, his ability of perception (which I find quite funny since eels are famously known for having shitty vision) is also highlighted in my previous point. He realised, on his own, that Riddle wasn’t doing quite alright. No one told him "hey, your favourite ‘victim’ isn’t doing well", he just went to make sure that Riddle as okay on his own volition. And it’s not the first time something like that happens. Indeed, in the first halloween event, at the end of it, we can see Floyd caring for both Jade and Riddle. He forces the first one to stop working and sit down for a while, and he pushes the other to eat more. Here, it’s Floyd’s reaction towards Riddle that interests me, not because that post isn’t on Jade and Floyd, but more because it is prompted before Floyd’s entrance in the scene that Jade has been working a lot, while it’s never mentioned once before that Riddle hasn’t eaten enough.

"Psh. Teapot tyrant, meet kettle. You haven't had more than a couple'a nibbles yourself, Goldfishie. Even a real goldfish eats more than that. Aren't you a growing boy?"

"I'll have you know I consume my recommended caloric intake every day, without any excess or deficiency!"

Twisted Wonderland, "Twisted Halloween : Terror is Trending", chapter 5-7

A bit farther, at the very end of the same chapter, Floyd grabs Riddle and brings him to the buffet, forcing him to eat.

"You got it! C'mon, Goldfishie!"

"I told you, Floyd— Would you stop tugging?! Argh!"

Twisted Wonderland, "Twisted Halloween : Terror is Trending", chapter 5-7

It is easy to understand that Floyd is used to Eating Disorders, especially considering he is friends with Azul, who is the reference in EDs in the cast (I mean, just see his backstory and read through Book 3 and you’ll have the big picture). Riddle’s ED isn’t the same as Azul’s, in the sense that it isn’t self inflicted, but ingrained in him. And for the sceptics, EDs aren’t just anorexia or bulimia. The fact that Riddle counts his calories and takes notes of every intake of food is very much a symptom of an eating disorder (this is another proof of Madam Rosehearts’ abuse on her son btw). And what does Floyd do ? he takes care of bringing Riddle with him to the buffet. Especially after seeing the reaction the boy had when cake was mentioned. Again, no one mentioned Riddle before Floyd intevened, only after that did Ruggie make a comment on that fact. (I also would like to point the change made to the idiom "pot, meet kettle" here. It’s funny as hell and shows a form of intelligence, because, being able to modify an idiom to one’s whims asks for a deep undertsanding of a language and its codes).

It was the last bit of trivia I had to analyse for the time being. At the time when I write these words, we only have 116 chapter of Book 7, so we haven’t encountered the dreams of the Octatrio yet, and even if I keep myself updated on what happens on the jp server I am not aware of everything that happens in details (I can’t read japanese for the life of me so I won’t play on jp server at all).

I realise that I have gone away from my first point of trying to analyse Floyd’s interest in Riddle using only biology and ended up doing a full-on analysis of FloRid moments... Oops...

So, let’s conclude once and for all that lit- *checks the word count* that analysis, shall we ?

While I think that Floyd’s interest in Riddle first spawned during their orientation (and his dream sequence gives us a hint on that matter), I think that Floyd’s continually renewed in Riddle isn’t just some sort of simple interest, but some form of infatuation. I mean. The anthology manga is there for a reason (even if its canonicity is debatable). We can see in various examples that Floyd cares for Riddle to some extent, the same way he cares for Azul (or Jade, but it’s not really the same form of care), and that his neurodivergence makes him hyperfixate on Riddle for some reason or another. I didn’t delve into my "theory" that Floyd might have some form of Bipolar Disorder because it hasn’t as much proof that it is here than the ADHD theory/headcanon, and it’s more a headcanon of mine than a fully fledged theory I have. Either way, it is clear that our moody eel is deeply attached to the teapot tyrant, and I think I was quite clear on that matter.

Now, and before I save this document and post it, I would like to talk about something. The "bully x victim" trope that opposants to the ship see. While I can understand the idea, I think it is not taking into account the numerous events where Floyd and Riddle are together. Sure, in the main story it is easily seen that Floyd has a favourite "victim" to his overly excitable moods, but a bully x victim would imply that Riddle isn’t able of defending himself. And he is. He just lets Floyd act that way because, whatever he will do, nothing would deter the eel. He is literally the guy that sent Floyd flying on their first day, for Samael’s sake ! And, I mean, Beanfest and the Stitch event do tell us a different story than "Riddle is a damsel in distress, victim to the whims of evil evil Floyd". Even in the halloween events we can see that they -at least- tolerate each other. But, I get it, when the game fist came out in english (because I see that discourse more on western fandom spaces (thank you to my friend who acts like a translator for me to scroll through the jp side of the fandom)), people didn’t have any access to the second Beanfest event, even less to the Stitch event, and were only privy to Floyd’s School Uniform vignette and their interaction in Book 2. But right now, with everything we have for us, I think that this argument is just plain media illiteracy. You can say that I’m over analysing Beanfest, sure. But don’t come at me for things that are clearly said in the game (like the Stitch event or Halloween events). And please, by Demon’s law, let people enjoy their silly ships however they like. I’m not coming at you for liking a ship I don’t have a particular affinty to, to come at me and call me deranged for shipping what is just basically a Red and Blue ship.

Oh, and, last point before I close that document. At one point, Jade says something that stuck with me.

"Heh... As long as you’re enjoying yourself, Floyd."

Twisted Wonderland, Floyd Halloween Vignette, "A Big Fan of Pirates"

And we see Floyd having fun in most of his vignettes. If that isn’t love, I don’t know what this is. (Yes, it has nothing to do with FloRid, but I wanted to put this here since I love the Tweels and their bond.)

Welp. This is the end of that analysis. Thank you for reading all of that, it’s more than 5k words, and I did most of that at work. I have a lot of things to say about the Octatrio and Riddle (as people who follow me on my private instagram has been victims to. I literally yapped about twst for 3h30...) as well as on other characters.

If you’re interested in reading what I write, here is my Ao3 link : https://archiveofourown.org/users/Phenixa. At the time I’m writing these words there is only two twst fanfics (being FloRid) and a small dozen of Kingdom Hearts fanfics, but more twst is coming in the future. I’m currently working on a college!AU if you’re interested ^^

I finished vomiting my analysis, it is time to say bye !

#i completely forgot to mention their interaction in book 5 #when riddle is checking on the various clubs #he gets to jade's mountain lovers club (member: Jade) and floyd is happy to see him #offers him a special mushroom and tries to feed it to riddle to the point where riddle tells him not shove strange objects in his face #the wording of that sentence alone is hilarious #(and suggestive)#oh oh oh and their birthday gifts for each other #sure riddle that monogrammed shoehorn was a last minute gift #and Floyd just happened to have a bookstrap he wasn’t using

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