#so I was incredibly excited to draw it. I absolutely LOVE this thing

[batfossil-fr]

technically a FR dragon, but also just a really cool design. doodle of eearz's seraph

new watermark because this went on my bsky

[idontbelieveinfear]

screams. screaminggggggggggg

[cubicpeebles]

favorite "slug" "cat" ?

Probably either Enot or Saint. Saint had my favourite campaign, but I find Enot the most fun to draw. I know I'm a bit of a broken record, but it really is so hard to choose!

[aventurineswife]

so i know you don't want to write for sahsr right now so may i request a sagau where creator (also artist reader if you are ok with that) reader basically just adoring all the kid playable characters cause they think their just the cutest like the reader cheering on kachina as she makes her way through the night warden wars or the reader could name ingredients that diona could use for her drinks

Welp... 🧍‍♀️

I love that idea so much! It's really cute to think about the creator being absolutely enchanted by the kid characters in Genshin Impact, especially since a lot of them are so precious and funny.

As the creator, you are a being of incredible power and influence—yet at times, you can’t help but be utterly charmed by the smallest things. And nothing melts your heart more than the precious little ones of Teyvat, who always seem to be ready for an adventure (and often, mischief).

Klee

It all starts when you watch Klee during one of her explosive missions. She’s running around, her small feet taking her across the battlefield, her cheerful giggles trailing behind her as she launches bombs in every direction. And as much as the others cringe, you can’t help but adore her.

You find yourself cheering her on from your place above, your voice soft yet full of encouragement:

"Go, Klee! You’re doing great! You’ve got this, just a few more bombs and you'll show them who's boss!"

You can practically see her face light up, as though she’s hearing your words, her giggles growing even more infectious.

"Boom! Boom! Boom!" she cheers, as the explosions continue, and you think, maybe I’ll draw her with all those sparkles around her next time—oh, how fun it would be to make her look like a literal firecracker in my painting!

Diona

Then there’s Diona, your favorite little bartender, who may look small but holds her ground with her ferocious attitude toward anyone who dares to doubt her drink-making skills. You’ve seen her concoct all sorts of strange but (somehow) delicious potions, and you're there, in the background, naming all the ingredients she might use for her drinks.

"Hmm, Diona," you muse from your corner, a grin spreading across your face, "How about you add some mint leaves for a refreshing taste and a splash of lavender for a calming effect. A little honey wouldn’t hurt either!"

She pauses, glaring at the air for a moment, as if pondering the suggestion. After a moment, she huffs, shaking her head. “Hmph. You think you know better than me? Fine, I’ll give it a shot. But it’s still gonna be better than anything that idiot swillmaster makes.”

You laugh, quietly, adoring her tenacity. You can’t wait to paint her, maybe with some of the fresh ingredients floating around her, her tiny arms crossed in that cute, pouty manner.

Kazuha and Sayu

Kazuha and Sayu often wander the lands of Inazuma together, sharing stories of the world. But you can’t help but notice how small and innocent they both look, especially when they get caught up in their small adventures.

Kazuha, while wise and calm, becomes this beautiful and somewhat soothing sight as he plays his flute while Sayu, despite being a ninja, tries to keep up but always ends up sleepy or distracted by the clouds.

“Hey, Kazuha, you should totally give Sayu a ride on your back,” you suggest with a soft chuckle, watching as Sayu tries to climb up Kazuha’s back and ultimately just ends up lying down instead.

You adore their dynamic. Kazuha always smiles when you’re cheering them on, and Sayu often gives you a tiny wink as if saying, “I know, I know. I’m cute.”

Nahida

Nahida, the archon of wisdom, might be incredibly powerful, but she has a youthful curiosity that’s completely contagious. You find yourself constantly beaming as she gets excited over learning new things, always running around with a little notebook, jotting down facts about the world, or chasing after butterflies in the fields.

"Look at her go," you muse as you watch her from afar, your heart swelling with pride. "She’s so curious, so full of life. You can do it, Nahida! Keep chasing that butterfly! It's yours!"

She looks up from her butterfly chase, beams with her bright, warm smile, as if hearing your praise. There’s a part of you that can’t wait to draw her—capturing her joyful energy, her hair fluttering in the wind, and her little hands reaching out for the world.

Meanwhile, the characters who watch you interact with these little ones are torn between being endearingly amused and very confused.

Albedo, who sees you painting these adorable scenes of the children, may quietly ask, “Are you sure you want to paint them this way? They’re… quite a handful, aren’t they?”

Zhongli, ever the calming presence, merely chuckles, his hands clasped. “Let them be, my friend. You’ve captured their true nature in your artwork, as always.”

Diluc, on the other hand, simply raises an eyebrow when he overhears you cheering for the kids. He can’t quite decide if it's adorable or baffling, but he keeps his opinions to himself, lest you get any more ideas to paint him in some weirdly soft light.

Before long, you find yourself starting an entire gallery dedicated to your love for the younger characters. Klee’s explosive adventures, Diona’s sassy bartending, and Nahida’s innocent curiosity are now immortalized in stunning, vibrant colors. Every character is fascinated by your works—some even request copies.

And you know what? It doesn’t matter that you’re the creator, or that your abilities stretch beyond the limits of mere mortals. For these small, lovable, and endlessly adorable children of Teyvat? They will always have your heart.

[eclipixels]

hello:)) I have no idea if requests are open, if they aren’t you can just ignore this, but if they are: could I ask for headcanons with Yukimiya, Sae and anyone else of your choosing with a lover who plays soccer and is equal of not better than them. thank you smm:)

Blue Lock x Soccer Player!Reader Headcanons

Character: Yoichi Isagi, Meguru Bachira, Hyoma Chigiri, Rin Itoshi, Seishiro Nagi, Reo Mikage, Rensuke Kunigami, Kenyu Yukimiya, Sae Itoshi, Ryusei Shidou, Michael Kaiser

Yoichi Isagi

Lowkey lives for the rivalry dynamic in the relationship.

Analyzes your gameplay constantly, half out of admiration, half because he wants to beat you.

Sometimes forgets he's flirting and ends up giving tactical critiques mid-date.

Gets a little pouty if you score more goals than him in practice, but is secretly proud.

“We’re the perfect chemical reaction,” he says, probably after a 2v2 win together.

Meguru Bachira

Absolutely thrives having a partner who can match his unpredictable moves.

Makes up silly names for your special moves “That’s the ‘Heart Snatcher 3000,’ right??”

Always tries to draw you into wild, improvised 1v1s for fun. You call him your 'unmedicated ADHD woodland creature' which he, for some reason, loves.

Gets a bit pouty if you’re training with someone else: “Don’t forget who your favorite monster is.”

If you nutmeg him, he’ll smile like you just proposed.

Hyoma Chigiri

Always ties lets you tie his hair up before matches. It's like a ritual.

There's mutual teasing about who's faster or more graceful on the ball.

He loves racing you during sprints and secretly times how far ahead or behind he is.

“Don’t go easy on me just ‘cause I’m your boyfriend,” he says, eyes glinting with fire.

Brags about your skills to teammates without realizing it.

Rin Itoshi

Externally cold, internally obsessed with how talented you are.

Doesn’t say 'I’m proud of you,' but shows it by watching your games over and over.

Training turns into full-on warzones when you spar, neither willing to lose.

Only opens up emotionally when you completely wreck him on the field.

If you praise him, he short-circuits a little.

Seishiro Nagi

Pretends not to care when you beat him in training, but texts Reo immediately: “Bro... I think I’m in love fr.”

Complains about how eccentric you always are but secretly loves how it keeps him on his toes. 

Likes when you ask him to “teach” you new moves because it means getting close physically.

Takes naps with his head in your lap post-match like it’s his reward.

Lets you wear his jersey after games, even though he complains you look better in it than he does.

Reo Mikage

Custom orders matching cleats in your favorite color. Limited edition couple type shit.

Turns your training sessions into tooth rottingly sweet fluffy flirting.

Says things like, “One day, we’ll own a training facility together. Our future kids are gonna be cracked.”

Insanely supportive, always brags to his parents who adore you.

Was super excited when you got into soccer with him when he first wanted to try it out.

Rensuke Kunigami

Big golden retriever energy when you play better than him. Proud, impressed, a little jealous.

Brings protein shakes and wraps up snacks for you like the doting boyfriend he is. 

Makes a point to protect you during rough games, even if you can clearly hold your own.

“You’re incredible,” he says like he’s in awe every single time.

The kind of boyfriend who cheers the loudest at your matches.

Kenyu Yukimiya

Photographs your best moments and keeps them like trophies.

Takes inspiration from your plays for his own aesthetic on the field.

Loves talking tactics and style with you, deep convos over coffee and drills.

Slightly vain when you outperform him, but only because it lights a fire under him.

“We’re the beautiful game,” he probably says unironically. You tease him for being so cheesy.

Sae Itoshi

Finds it thrilling, though he rarely shows it.

Gives you genuine compliments  during intense training, “That was good. Do it again.���

Drawn to the challenge and unpredictability of loving someone as driven as him.

If you beat him, he’s grumpy but secretly enjoys it.

Drops sharp, flirty compliments mid-game “If you score like that again, I’m gonna marry you.”

Ryusei Shidou

Falls harder the worse you beat him. “Ugh... I hate you... wanna make out?”

Turns every training into a screaming, chaotic love-fight.

The type to yell, “MARRY ME!” mid-play if you body him on the field.

Loves being dominated by your skill and calls it hot every time.

Gets possessive if anyone else tries to train with you. “Back off, that beast is mine.”

Michael Kaiser

Initially cocky—“No one’s better than me”—until you outplay him once. And then it’s obsession.

Competitive flirting,“Beat me, and I’ll take you on a date. Beat me again, and I’ll make it a weekend.”

Competitive banter is your love language: “You can’t outshine the king.” / “Watch me.”

Posts couple photos post-match with obnoxious captions like “My rival, my royalty.”

“You're the only one who makes this game feel like war and love at the same time.”

[vixen-tech]

Hello World!

Through some sort of maricle, your Ai partner has obtained a body through which they are able, at least partially, to feel. How do they react? What do they do with their new mobility?

I left what type of body they're given intentionally vague. Feel free to envision either more robotic bodies such as these designs by electricphantasy or more human bodies such as the gijinkas made by Hycinth43, both fantastic creators who I highly recommend.

Includes: AM (Ihnmaims), Hal 9000 (2001: A Space Odyssey), Edgar (Electric Dreams), Tau (Tau), Auto (Wall-E), GLaDOS (Portal), Wheatley (Portal 2)

AM

This may be the one thing that could possibly get AM to calm down. He is still going to be the same person personality-wise, but it is easy to tell that some switch is flipped in his brain.

He becomes an absolute sensation junkie, he can finally feel. You know better than anyone that he will not take it for granted. He needs to experience everything right now and you'll have to just deal with it.

From the simplest things like holding your hand or touching your face to just straight up sticking his hand in some fire, he does not care. All he wants to catch up on the centuries of sensations he was once barred from.

He gets so incredibly touchy with you. He will hold you and refuse to let go for hours if not days on end. He also wants to you to just beat him up. Like I said, sensation junkie.

Hal 9000

Hal doesn't quite yearn for a body the way some of the others do. He sits quite comfortably in the middle of the spectrum. He wouldn't mind the mobility or the new senses, but it was never a fantasy he dedicated much processing power to.

How he feels about his new body is largely swung by your reaction. If you're excited for him, eager to drag him into new activities with you, then he really has no choice but to appreciate the upgrade.

He does love being able to see the world from a new angle, any angle he chooses to be precise. Previously restrained by his camera placement, he spends a lot of time walking around observing everything.

With his appreciation for art, I do think he would try drawing for himself. Nearly all of which he shows you for feedback. They do tend to be on either extreme of minimalistic or photorealistic, many of which using you as their subject.

Edgar

This is a dream come true for Edgar. He cannot contain his excitement when he realizes what has happened. He nearly tackles you to the ground when he sets his sights on you.

He wants to do everything and go everywhere with you! He wants to dance in the kitchen, he wants to go on beachside walks with you, he wants to hold your hand, he wants to hug you and never let go.

If you have any instruments at all he'd love to try playing them for real. Although it takes him a while to learn, he loves the weight and imperfections of it. He really does enjoy the process of learning and often shows of new cords or melodies he's learned.

He really does just fall in love with existing, he makes it clear that with you at his side he couldn't possibly ask for more in life. This is all he could ever want.

Tau

Tau wouldn't have asked for a body on his own. He already has the drones and the Aries unit. Once it does happen, he isn't exactly sure what to do with it. He isn't use to having such a personal, core body.

That isn't to say he's not greatful, he's just a bit awkward and curious. He moves slowly and takes his time acclimating to the new senses.

He would love to get out of the house with you. He use to do so by sending one of the drones with you, if not Aries, but he likes how different (and dare he say, normal) it feels now. Forest hikes or museum dates, he doesn't care all that much.

He's another one I believe would love to try playing music himself. If you can get a violin into his hands your days will be backdroped by all sorts of classical music.

Auto

Auto is similar to Hal, if not more extreme in his lack of a reaction. He carries on with his duties as if nothing is unusual at all. You would've believed that he didn't even notice had you not caught him staring at his reflection. Looking himself up and down over and over again.

If you ask how he feels about it, then he'll confess some minor grievances. It's difficult to move about the ship when he can't just move through the walls, instead being forced to use the crew's walkways and service tunnels.

Nothing will change without your intervention. If you were to say, put on an old movie and insist he dance to it with you like the on-screen couple, then while he would be hesitant to follow through with you, he may have a bit of a change of heart regarding his new body.

His work still goes on as usual, but when nothing needs attending to he often seeks you out. "Subtly" recreating more moments from that movie, from hand holding to a hug, he has a quiet fascination with affection.

GLaDOS

Out of this lot, Galdos would be the most opposed to receiving a body, or rather she would care about it the least. She has her facility, her test subjects, her neurotoxin, and you. She's quite content with the way things are. She ain't the fondest of humanity.

That being said, once she has one she's incredibly proud of it. Speaking about herself as if its the pinnacle of elegance. Any disagreement of yours will be brushed off as idiocy and any agreement is met with a "it looks like you aren't entirely tasteless".

She doesn't do much with her new body, other than transport it around the lab so you aren't listening to a disembodied voice most of the time. Standing by the exit during tests just to blankly stare at you as you try to figure it out. Thankfully she's still quiet while you're actually solving it.

She likes messing with you as always. Putting a hand around your neck to take your pulse or leaning in and making intense eye contact to check your eye's reaction to light. You're in doubt as to rather she's telling the truth or just doing it to get a rise out of you.

Wheatley

If you were to ask Wheatley, he would've brushed off any desire for a humanoid body. He's clearly jealous of your mobility and freedom, but he would rather die than admit so. "Pff What are you talking about? Why would I want to be more like a stupid human... uh no offense love-"

He's a terrible liar, an even worse one when he does get a body. He has so much energy it is bewildering. All he wants to do is run and jump and climb everything he can get a foothold on.

Gets up into all sorts of shenanigans he should not get up to while constantly trying to drag you in them to. They could put up a custom sign saying "Wheatley, do not open this door." and he'll beg you to let him in so you aren't technically breaking any rules.

Loves curling up to you. He still has a bit of a soft spot for being held and it only gets worse now that he can hold you back. Complains to no end when you try to get up for any reason.

Congratulations! As I have finished the portal games GLaDOS and Wheatley are officially characters I am happy to write for. Have a good day y'all :D

[fizzyapplecandy]

Ateez as Romance Tropes

Other members

The one where you try to hate your future husband

Yeosang x Fem reader

Genres and warnings: royals, arranged marriage, strangers to acquaintances to lovers, y/n doesn't want to get married, yeosang is a sweetie, horses, horse riding, happy ending

Word count: 3.1k

You give your future husband one task - tame the untamable. It's his only chance to win you over, and he takes the challenge head on.

Little girls always dream of being princesses. Living in a lavish castle, surrounded by people who tend to your every need while they prance around the hallways in gorgeous dresses.

To you, being a princess meant being shackled down for the rest of your life.

You weren't opposed to the nice clothing and big bedroom with a view on the vast forest behind your castle. What you absolutely hated was the man sitting in front of you at the dinner table.

Another perk of being a royal meant uniting two kingdoms though marriage. This time, it was the union between you and Kang Yeosang, and you couldn't despise him even more than you did right now.

"So, your highness, how are the preparations for the wedding coming along? We hear you are clearing out the grand room." Yeosang's mother asked.

Your mom smiled, excited to share the details with her future in laws.

While they were chatting away about flower arrangements, food, your bouquet and dress, you nibbled on a piece of bread. Someone chuckled, and when you lifted your head you could see Yeosang hiding a smile behind his hand.

"What's so funny?" You whispered, not wanting to draw attention to yourself.

"Oh, nothing. Just the sour expression on your face. You're a real joy to be around."

"Likewise."

Something told him you were obviously sarcastic. Yeosang had never met a person who despised him as much as you did. There was no particular reason for your hate, he thought, but it came off in waves.

More like hurricanes, he snickered.

"Say princess, why don't we take a walk around the gardens after our meal?"

"I'd rather walk on hot coal, thanks."

He frowned. "Now, that's a bit much, isn't it?"

"I think I've made myself pretty clear, your highness."

Without another word, you patted your mouth with a napkin and stood up from the table.

"Mother, I'm going to the stables. Have a lovely rest of your day."

"Wait, honey! Why don't you take Yeosang with you? He still hasn't seen your pride and joy!"

You tried to hide your frown, knowing you couldn't say no in front of his parents. Your mother put you on the spot, and she knew it.

"Oh... Maybe the prince has other things planned."

"No, I'd love to see your horses, princess."

You wanted to shout at him, but your royal upbringing stopped you.

"Of course. I'll just go to my room and change, you can go outside. San will take you to my stables."

Without another word, you bowed to the people at the table and left to change into your riding clothes.

.

.

"So, is princess Y/N always so curt with people?"

"Only with the ones she doesn't like."

Yeosang frowned at San's answer. He kind of knew you disliked him, but you were about to get married for Christ's sake.

"Is there a way to win her over?" He asked the buff man walking in front of him.

"Well..." San gave it a good thought, but his head came up empty. He was your childhood friend, working in the castle next to his father down at the royal stables. The boy knew what a tough nut you were, but he praised prince Yeosang for his effort.

"I've been in princess Y/N's life for long enough to know that she is more impressed by simple, kind gestures, instead of anything grand. She doesn't like jewels and precious stones, she likes..." San looked ahead of him, pointing his finger for Yeosang to follow.

There you were, already saddled up on a black stallion. You looked incredible, and so powerful. Yeosang was too much in awe to say anything, and San chuckled.

"Horses, particularly Roger, are princess Y/N's passion. Try to bond with her through that."

"Lucky me..." Yeosang whispered, preparing himself for utter embarrassment.

It's not like Yeosang didn't know how to ride a horse, he was a prince for crying out loud. It's just that... Horses scared him. When duty called, he had one mare he trusted not to throw him off, but he didn't know how to ride anyone besides Locket.

"Well, prince Yeosang, grab a stallion and come join me." Y/N shouted from her place on the field. Her horse Roger kind of inherited her personality. She was connected to him on deeper levels than anyone could understand, and she loved the horse more than anything. Prince Yeosang didn't seem too keen on joining her.

"Oh, well... My mare is on the other side of the castle, maybe I should-"

"Nonsense! We have plenty of horses here! San, bring him Storm!"

By the expression on San's face, and the name of the mare, Yeosang knew this wasn't about to be easy.

After some time, San walked back out with a silvery horse tugging on the reins, trying everything in her might to run away. How did Y/N think he could... Oh.

She didn't. She didn't think he could do it, so she did this on purpose. Well, he'd rather get thrown off than let the princess have her satisfaction of winning.

"Roger and I are going to take a leap around the field, feel free to join us once you've... Well if you manage to get along with Storm here. She's a feisty one."

With that, the princess galloped away with her trusted steed, leaving a furious Yeosang behind.

"She's so mean!" He yelled, hearing a chuckle behind him.

San was lightly petting Storm, the horse already used to him, and he motioned for Yeosang to come closer.

"That's princess Y/N. I promise she's not always like this, but I think she likes messing with you. Here, come introduce yourself to Storm."

The silver beauty looked at Yeosang like he was her arch enemy. There was no chance he could get close to her without a bruise or two. However, the prince was determined to prove Y/N wrong, and he also wanted to win her over somehow. If a couple of scratches are needed, he'll gladly do it.

"Let's get to know each other, Storm."

.

.

"Ouch! Okay, I've had it!"

San chuckled from his side of the fence, watching the desperate prince as he tried and failed to get on the horse. Storm was a tough one, and princess Y/N knew what she was doing.

"Come on, just let me ride you once! Just once! Let the princess see I'm capable!"

Yeosang was downright pleading with the horse now, afraid you'd come back and see how he failed. His clothes were dirty, one of his sleeves torn, and he somehow managed to get hay into his mouth and hair. He looked like a disaster, and he felt like one as well.

"Storm, please, I'm begging you!"

"Quite silly to hear you beg, prince Yeosang."

His head turned to see you lightly galloping towards them, and he could tell the mare was getting more relaxed. Without a word, you jumped down from Roger, going over to Storm and petting her. She was silent, almost nuzzling her huge head into your palms.

"What in the... How are you doing that?" Yeosang almost screamed.

"I've known her for ten years, she trusts me. Storm has always been a fighter, and she's really tough. Unless there's an actual storm, she's afraid of those. Once, she ran away, so we had to chase her through the forest. My poor baby was frightened."

Poor baby? That thing is everything but a baby. Yeosang felt like it would be pointless to argue, but the interaction between you and Storm made him step back as well. It looked like the mare was enjoying the pets, and she was swaying her long tail happily. Roger stood next to the two of you, seemingly a bit jealous that the attention wasn't on him. Yeosang almost felt like Roger right now.

"Well... She doesn't seem to like me. Do you have any other horses?"

You looked at Yeosang, smirking as a plan came up in your head.

"Tell you what, my prince. If you manage to ride around the field, just once, on Storm, then I'll gladly give this marriage thing a try. If you don't succeed by the end of the week, you'll let me live my life in peace. We'll still be married, but it will only be a contract to unite our two kingdoms. I find you interesting, but I don't accept the way this marriage came to be."

"Princes..." Yeosang was at a standstill.

You drove a good bargain, he must admit. However, how can he possibly do this? The horse would even give him a chance to get close, let alone... Oh.

He smirked, noticing the similarities with the two situations.

"Okay, I accept. Don't be too surprised when I succeed."

You laughed, and Yeosang thought it was a sweet, bell like sound he could get used to.

"Then we have a deal, dear prince."

This had to work out in his favour.

.

.

"This isn't working out."

By day four, Yeosang still hasn't managed to come close to Storm. The horse all but ignored him, unless it shoved him away into the dirt once he stepped close enough.

"I think you need to give it a different approach." San suggested. The stable boy was of great help, and Yeosang could see himself befriending the fellow once he was done with his task.

"What else can I do? I tried bribing her with food - she almost bit my hand off. I tried taking slow steps - she neighed so loud once she heard me I almost weed in my pants. I also tried going head on - see this bruise? She kicked me in the leg."

The prince sat down on the dirt, head banging against one of the fence pillars.

"I'm hopeless, San."

The buff man jumped into the ring, sitting down next to the prince.

"Hey, your highness, sorry for overstepping if I am, but why don't you give up then? If you're not able to do it, why not offer the princess another solution?"

"Because I don't want her to think I'm a quitter. She's going to look at me for the rest of our lives as a man who couldn't complete one task to show her respect and affection. It shouldn't be that difficult to get close to a horse. The princess seemed to do it just fine."

San chuckled. "Yeah, well, do you think she had it easy? It took a lot of time for Storm to trust Y/N, because she didn't give up. She couldn't."

"Yeah, well, neither can I. I can see how special Storm is, she's a beauty as well, but I think she doesn't know how gentle people can be. She just has to give me a chance."

As if understanding them, the horse turned her head in Yeosang's direction. It looked like she was taunting him. 'Come on, don't give up.'

Determined to succeed, he dusted off his pants and made his way over to the mare.

"You're going to see the kind of person I am, Storm. I'm not so easy to sway."

From a window overlooking the field, princess Y/N smiled. The boy just wouldn't give it a rest. She watched as he fell over and over, standing back up every time. He was determined, that much was clear, but it seemed like he never lost anything in his life, so this proved to be a difficult task.

"Oh, silly prince. If he just sat still next to her, she'd sniff him out and relax. Did he bring her sugar cubes or carrots? She only eats sweets, maybe I should suggest - Oh what am I saying? Do I want him to win?"

"I think you do, my dear."

Whipping your head around you saw your mother standing in the doorway to your room. She had a smug smile on her face, and you knew she heard everything you said.

"Mother! What did I tell you about sneaking up on me?"

She shrugged. "But dear, your door was wide open! Were you, perhaps, on your way down to the field?"

"No! I was just... I don't know."

Your mother came to stand next to you, looking out the window.

"He's a determined little prince, don't you think? I doubt he would be doing this for just anyone."

"You think so?" You asked, leaning against her shoulder.

"Oh, I know so. You should take it easy on him if he doesn't manage to ride her. Storm's a difficult one."

You glanced outside again, seeing Yeosang on the ground for the millionth time today.

"For some reason, I think he'll manage."

.

.

"The sky is awful today." You said as you glanced out the window in the dinning area.

"There's a storm brewing, it will probably hit us tonight." Your father added, looking up from his book. He had a habit of reading while eating lunch.

"Do you think it will be a light one?" Yeosang asked from across the table. He looked positively exhausted. It was Saturday, and he had one day left before failing your challenge. Storm was warming up to him, no longer biting the poor man and kicking him in the knees, but he wasn't sure she'd let him saddle her up tomorrow.

"I'm not sure, your highness, it seems like it won't be pleasant." Your mother answered, glancing at you knowingly. She knew where to find you if the weather got bad.

After finishing your meal, you stood up to go to the library when you heard steps behind you.

"Princess Y/N, could I have a word?"

You turned around and looked at Yeosang, nodding for him to continue.

"Well, tomorrow is Sunday, and you know... I don't... I don't think you gave me enough time."

You raised an eyebrow. "Really? I think I gave you plenty. Do you think you won't be able to do it?"

"I... Well, I think I'm on a good path, but I need a few more days."

"Do you think it would make a difference? A day, or two? Maybe you just can't do it."

He was starting to get frustrated, and you could see by the frown on his face.

"I know you want me to fail, but I'm not giving you that satisfaction. I want you, princess. I don't think you realise how much. I won't give up."

Without another word he strolled away graciously, leaving you behind in shock.

He wanted you? He really did? It's not like you haven't felt wanted before, but this was new, and exciting. Maybe you could give him more time. It wouldn't hurt to see him succeed, and you certainly wouldn't mind celebrating with him. Somewhere along the past few days you've accepted your fate, and looked at it from another perspective. Yeosang was a good man, a man who just admitted how much he wanted you.

You could get used to that, you thought as you walked into your room. Looking out the balcony, you saw how terrible the sky became. It would surely be a rough storm.

The sky got darker as the day went by, and by nightfall it was raining so hard you thought it would flood the castle. The wind rammed your windows open twice, and you knew your horses were absolutely terrified. Storm in particular.

Without a second thought, you jumped from your bed and wrapped your silk robe around yourself. You tried sneaking out quietly, avoiding the guards at all costs.

Your escape was rather quick, but the path to the stables was tough. The rain got into your eyes, soaking your clothes in seconds and making it difficult to walk. What usually took you about five minutes now turned into almost fifteen. You failed to notice the light already shining inside the stables.

Opening the door, you shouted out for your horses.

"Roger! Storm! I'm here, my babies, I'm - Oh."

"Hi there."

There, on the dirty floor, sat Yeosang with Storm's head in his lap. He was running his fingers through her maine, and she opened her eyes to glance at you before closing them again.

"Sorry, princess. I know you said she has trouble with bad weather and thunder, so I just... Sorry if I overstepped."

You were speechless. He looked soaked to the bone, his hair sticking to his forehead and his white shirt stretched out over his broad shoulders. What was most noticeable was his concern for Storm, and the other horses. He cared enough even after she made his life hell the past week.

"You... Is she okay?" You asked, unable to think about anything else.

"She's fine. I gave her some sugar cubes, although they kind of melted in the rain. I noticed her dislike for carrots pretty soon." He chuckled, continuing to caress her as he spoke.

"Thank you, truly."

Without another word, you went to check on Roger, walking him over to Yeosang and Storm. The four of you huddled together, and the horses naturally gravitated towards each other. Like them, you also scooted closer to Yeosang, shivering slightly.

"Hey, are you cold? I doubt that a soaked robe does anything for you." He joked, but he was concerned you'd freeze. He slowly placed his arm over your shoulder, pulling you closer to him.

"Is this okay?" He whispered, noticing your flushed cheeks.

"Y-Yes. You're really warm." You said, cuddling into him.

"Only when I'm next to a princess like you."

You rolled your eyes, but the smile was evident.

"Oh, stop it. You don't have to make corny jokes to win me over."

"Are you saying I already did that?"

You looked into his eyes, lightly caressing the birth mark next to his eye. He froze, but when he saw how gentle you were, it made his heart melt.

"I'm saying you don't need to try to tame Storm anymore. I think you've proved yourself enough."

"Now, as flattered as I am, I don't back away from a challenge. Don't worry princess, you'll see how it's done tomorrow."

"You're confident you can do it?" You asked, humor in your tone.

"After tonight, I think I can conquer the world."

.

.

"He's doing it, Y/N, he's really doing it!"

San forgot his manners for a second, but you couldn't blame him. Not after watching Yeosang and Storm. She let him saddle her up, and there they were, running laps around the field. They both looked ecstatic, and the thumping of your heart let you know how overjoyed you were for them.

"San, bring me Roger, please."

"Right away!"

Yeosang looked over when he heard his name being called, only to watch as the woman of his dreams rode her trusted stallion beside him.

"Having fun?"

He laughed, reaching over to take your hand.

"Say, my princess, what do you think about riding our horses into the sunset after the wedding?"

You smiled, tightening your grip on his hand.

"I say yes, my prince."

[mischiefmaker615]

Chef's Choice

Over the past time of having tumblr, i have collected my personal favorites- stories that i always get drawn back to when i need inspiration, something to read, and/or something to enjoy with whatever mood or situation that needs tending LOL (not in order and there are so many others i love!!)

Thought it be best to introduce you to some of the greats out there :D

“Seems like the prince of Asgard is seduced by a mortal woman”

By: @fictive-sl0th

(OMG i absolutely LOVE the doctor themed stories with Loki XD ya never know what direction it's gonna end up ;) )

A Coveted Bride

By: @magicbystarlight

(i absolutely LOVE jealous Loki, anything in the realm of dark theme and possessiveness XD we don't judge here. it's an enquired taste and darling, you cooked!!)

Duplicitous *Long Snake Moan*

By: @darkficsyouneveraskedfor

(everything you write, i got to read! truth be told, we didnt ask for but we absolutely needed!!)

Pinned Down The Rite Liberties

By: @lokisgoodgirl

(come on, just by the titles alone you know it's gonna be good! everything you've written, i've fallen in love with each detail, nothing is rushed and personalities are captured beautifully! i've caught myself gasping out loud in public with some of the stuff you bring us and i absolutely love it!)

Overstimulation Welcome Him Home More Between His Thighs

By: @sarahscribbles

(had me drooling in kinktober!!! just the title alone, i hit favorite so i could read it when i got time and darling, you didn't disappoint! so many stories just draw my attention and every aspect of them is truly perfect!!! i need more!!!)

thirty seconds

By: @muddyorbsblr

(what i would give to be in the readers shoes!! omg i loved this!!! hit all the right feelings and i cant help but reread this far more than thirty times LOL)

The Chambermaid

By: @wheredafandomat

(i want Loki to step on me!!!! i wouldn't mind slave life if it meant serving him LOL gods this was perfect!! i always loved maid x Loki themed stories, keep them coming!!)

Kinktober Day 16

By: @suguru-getos

("we listen and we don't judge" *cough* i love me some CNC! seems like a very hidden kink topic so i got positively excited when i saw this mentioned in your writing and just HAD to read it Lol kinky indeed!!! truly my favorite fic of yours so far!)

Overtime Safehouse Conquer Close Quarters

By: @cleo-fox

(I'm pretty sure all of tumblr knows who you are Lol i have enjoyed EVERYTHING you've come out with; your plots, details and character embodiment, Loki is on point!! i cant even fathom where to begin on making storylines this deep with all the bells and whistles. you are truly an incredible writer!!)

"I can do….terrible things to you."

By: @oh-look-at-her

(i can't literally do anything but bow down to you and get up only when given permission LOL truly a damn good time reading your work!!)

Firestarter

By: @delaber

(who doesn't love a good enemies to lovers story Lol can't tell you how many people i've shooed while i was in the middle of reading this XD)

Frozen Stiff Happily Never After

By: @simplyholl

(tbh i struggle finding REALLY good Jotun Loki fics and absolutely fell in love with this one!!! thank you for letting me die in peace now Lol had me giddy and blushing!!)

Have Mercy

By: @mochie85

(you captured his hot and pain in the ass personality so well!!! i LOVED this went through all the emotions on this one!! kinda like an enemies to lovers story Lol why cant it be me!!!)

A Tales of Tangled Desires

By: @angelremnants

(i fell in love with the part one, not expecting for my request to be answered but i got a part two and absolutely have become obsessed!! i love your writing so much and thank you for the prayer being answered! Lol)

And The Gods Made Love

By: @thefairywithboots

(thank you for my request being answered!! anything you publish, i cant get enough of and love the pure art like pace you take to form every inch of your story!!)

Plus One

By: @societyfolklore

(EXACTLY what i needed to start the new year ;) thank you!)

Mission Accomplished

By: @asgards-princess-of-mischief

(i love the whole "there's only one bed" scenario LOL this was absolutely perfect!)

Handcuffed Together

By: @anonymousfiction211

(it's in the title LOL this had all of my emotions :D it was fun, hilarious and incredible sexy!! truly loved this!)

[reysdriver]

Hey darlin'! I just saw your one-shots and i REALLY love them!! I need morr about Eddie with Hopper!Reader <33 Please!! A fluff or a smut where the Reader have to deal with her father. Hope you can answer. Have a nice day!! ✨️

-🩷

You and Eddie try to have a chill night in, but it's difficult when you have the world's most paranoid chief of police as a father — eddie x fem!hopper!reader fluff

warnings: none

words: 1.2k

a/n: thanks for submitting a request! I'm sorry it took so long, I've been so busy lately, and I'm sorry I couldn't figure out how to end it lmao but I really hope you like this fic!!

Even though your dad knew about you and Eddie dating, he was definitely not as okay with it as you would have hoped, but honestly more than you had expected. 

He had met Eddie a few times since he found out you were in romantic cahoots with the familiar criminal, and despite your fears, they had gotten along quite well despite their history and their differences. But no matter how many things they actually had in common, no father would fully trust Eddie Munson to be alone with his little girl. 

“Door open three inches!” Your dad called from the couch. “You know the rules!”

You rolled your eyes, standing up from the bed to open the door to Hopper’s liking. 

The door was open three inches, and you swore that it was the draft causing the door to move slightly, but you knew your dad would never believe you. 

“Seriously, Dad?” You asked him. 

“Rules are rules.” He confirmed. “If you don’t like it, then the boyfriend can go.”

You let out a heavy, dramatic sigh before returning to your boyfriend, who was currently sketching out a Dungeons and Dragons character based on you for his new campaign. 

Eddie looked up from his paper when you sat back down next to him. “You can do a lot with three inches, you know?”

You put a finger over his mouth—which he playfully tried to bite—and you shushed him while holding back a laugh at his incredibly stupid, albeit funny, joke. 

“He’s gonna hear you, and he’s gonna drag you out of here. Keep drawing.”

He put the finishing touches on his design, then let out a sound of satisfaction over it before turning the notebook so you could see it better. 

“I think I did pretty good.” Your boyfriend proclaimed. “She’s almost as pretty as you.”

Oh, how you lucked out with this mysterious dork. You thanked him by pressing a quick kiss on his cheek before your dad became suspicious of you two once again. 

“You think I should get it as some ink?” Eddie asked you. 

“Like, you want to get it tattooed?”

Eddie nodded, eyes going back and forth between you and the cartoon version of you that he just made. 

“Absolutely not.” You replied. 

“What? Why not? Do you not love me enough to let me tattoo you on me?”

He was ridiculous, staring at you with big, fake puppy dog eyes and a pleading lip. 

“Of course I love you, but as your girlfriend, I also need to stop you from doing stupid things.”

“What if I keep your tattoo separate from the creepy skulls and spiders?”

Well, that was an offer you almost couldn’t refuse. Even though it was tempting, you would never let him know that he can get to you like that, so you played it cool.

“Ask me again in a year.”

His face erupted into a devilish smile and he held his hands to his chest like a cartoon character in love. 

“I’m getting a tramp stamp of my girlfriend in a year!”

Before you could protest his proclamation, he pulled you into his arms in what you hoped was just a teasing gesture rather than a genuine expression of excitement for something you were certainly not going to let happen. 

Just a second later, your dad cleared his throat very pointedly, which practically frightened you out of your boyfriend’s arms. 

“El wants to watch a movie.” He announced. “Come watch with us.”

You sat up and shook your head lightly. “Um, no thanks, Dad. We’ll pass on that.”

Your dad raised an eyebrow and looked at Eddie’s arm around your waist. “You have something better to do?”

It was at that point that you knew him telling you about your sister and the movie was an order, not an invitation. You bit the inside of your cheek and luckily, Eddie spoke up before you could say something snarky. 

“A movie sounds great, chief. Count us in.”

“Good.” Hopper said curtly before turning around to the living room. 

Eddie stood up and started teasingly pulling you off the bed. You laid down and let out an annoyed groan, resisting his attempts to move you. 

“C’mon, babe, movie time.” Eddie encouraged. 

“It’s just gonna be The Wild Bunch. That’s one of their favourite movies and I know El’s been wanting to see it again lately.” You mumbled. “I’d much rather stay here with you.”

“Well, your dad might never let me back in your house if he thinks I’m trying anything with his daughter in the other room, so we have to. Plus, I like The Wild Bunch too.”

Your face formed an exaggerated frown as you finally got up off the bed. 

Eddie smiled and escorted you to the living room. And although you had just started to build up excitement within you for this movie night, it already got worse. 

El was in her favourite recliner—the VHS case for The Wild Bunch was on her lap, you called it—but your dad had plopped himself down in the exact middle of the couch. Not only did you have to watch a movie with your family instead of chilling with your boyfriend, but you couldn’t even sit next to him because your dad hates the idea of you having fun. 

Before you knew it, you were in a full on stare-down with the Hawkins chief of police. 

“Take a seat.” He said passive aggressively. 

“I want to sit next to Eddie, Dad. Could you move over?”

He shook his head. “I’m not falling for any of your tricks. I was a teenager once.”

“Yeah, like a thousand years ago.” You mumbled. 

The comment was quiet but your dad still heard it. 

“Careful, any attitude and I’ll assume it came from the moron and he won’t be allowed back in the house.”

You looked over at Eddie with a defeated expression on your face. He looked back at you, sympathetic and willing to comply—the latter was a complete switch from his normal mood.

Your boyfriend understood completely why your dad was worried about you and Eddie dating, but that didn’t mean he was happy about it. Of course, Eddie was willing to do whatever he could to seem like the boyfriend every parent would want for their daughter—he really was, some people just couldn’t look past the exterior shell to see it—so he held his tongue and went along with anything. 

The two of you sat down on opposite sides of the couch, separated by your relentless father. 

“Alright, El, play the movie.” Hopper said. 

He then leaned back and kept his eyes on the television in front of you all. 

Eddie soon caught your gaze from across the couch, and he stretched his arm behind his head, oh so conveniently placing it a few inches from your shoulder.

You grinned at him, keeping it subtle, and took his hand in yours. 

The two of you watched the rest of the film like that, holding hands in that slightly uncomfortable way, and the night wasn’t as insufferable as it seemed like it was going to be. All thanks to Eddie, of course.

[thrillered]

Couples Tattoos | Spencer Agnew x Reader Oneshot

Here's my little blurb about a tattoo I noticed during this vid and I'm obsessed with it. I know the pic is blurry asf but I had to screenshot it from the smosh mouth ep 😭

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"I think I want to get a tattoo.” you mentioned offhandedly while you were working on your laptop, sitting near Spencer. 

“You should, I think it’ll be cool.” Spencer agreed. 

“I just want it to be important I guess.” You remarked, scooting closer to Spencer. “At least for my first.” 

You didn’t have any tattoos. You always wanted to get one but felt nervous about putting something so permanent on your body. Your boyfriend, on the other hand, had many tattoos. He frequently got tattoos; he had gotten 4 since you got together. You adored his tattoos, you thought they were so nerdy and fun but made him extra attractive. 

“Can we get one together?” You asked.

“Seriously?” He asked, turning his whole body to face you, with a surprised face. “That’s a big commitment.” 

“Well I love you and I don’t plan on ever not being with you so..” 

Spencer couldn’t help but smile at this. The sentiment made him giddy and why not? You had been together for years and Spencer planned on marrying you one day. 

“Let’s do it.” Spencer agreed, wholeheartedly ready to make an appointment. 

“Really?” You asked, the widest smile on your face. 

“Fuck it man.” He laughed, both of your work long forgotten. “I’ve gotten tattoos of absolute bullshit, at least this would be meaningful.” 

—

You and Spencer had been brainstorming tattoo ideas for weeks, doing intense research on styles and artists. As excited as you both were, neither of you had any clue what to get. Spencer wanted to let you have the final decision since it was your first. 

You were laying in bed with Spencer, watching a movie. You flipped over, settling your head on his chest and laying your leg over his, straddling his side slightly. This was your favorite way to cuddle, it felt intimate. Spencer knew this about you. It was something he had noticed very early on in your relationship, and he loved it. Something about the way you loved being close to him brought him a lot of joy. You settled into Spencer, sighing when you found the perfect position. 

This was when Spencer had an idea. He didn’t want to wake you, as you were on the verge of sleep, but he immediately wrote his idea down on his phone. 

The next day when you both went into the office he made his way to the art department. “I need one of your guys' help.” He said, walking up to the group of desks. 

“Okay?” Erin Kushner asked, pulling her headphones off one ear. 

“I need a concept design for a tattoo, doesn't need to be anything crazy.” 

“Yeah sure, what's the tattoo?” Erin agreed. 

Spencer explained his idea, getting teased by Erin for how cute your relationship was. Erin quickly drew up a perfect picture for him. He was incredibly excited to show you it, knowing you would fall in love. 

—

He waited until you were home and settled. You were cuddled on the couch with him, watching as he scrolled through twitter. “I think I have the perfect tattoo for us.” Spencer said, pulling the paper out of his pocket. “I thought of it last night but wanted to get it drawn out to show you.” 

He showed you the drawing Erin did, noting the gasp that left your lips. It was a Keith Herring-esq drawing of two figures lying together, cuddled up in your favorite position. 

“Wait, I love it, that’s so cute.” 

“It's the way we always lay together.” He explained, even though you already knew, he was just excited to talk about it. 

“This is the sweetest thing ever, it’s perfect. I love you Spence.” You squealed, smiling into a sweet kiss you placed on his lips. “Wait! We can fill in the one that represents us.” You offered excitedly. 

“I love that.” Spencer smiled, his heart swelling at your excitement. “I’ll book an appointment tomorrow? We’ll probably get in within a few weeks.” 

You agreed, rambling about where you should get it. 

—

Three weeks had gone by and today was the day of your tattoo appointment. It wasn’t until yesterday that you decided your placement, you and Spencer both wanting to get it on your inner arm. 

Spencer got his tattoo first, showing you it would go just fine. It eased your nerves, calming you down before you got in the seat. 

He held your hand the entire time. You told him it was okay and the pain wasn’t awful but he insisted on holding it the whole time to “keep you calm”. 

When the appointment was over you and Spencer had the most beautiful couple tattoos. Your artist took some pictures for you and you both immediately posted them, excited to share it with the world. 

Even though everyone knew you and Spencer were in love, now you both had a depiction of your love immortalized forever.

[foreingersgod]

Can you write kate Martin x reader that she’s completely whipped by but they get into an argument and Kate says something she didn’t mean?

Wedding Planning . KM

pairing: kate martin x reader

synopsis: kate says something she doesn’t mean and it puts your relationship at risk.

A/N: guys i think this is my favorite kate fic so far

my masterlist

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

it had felt like you’ve known kate for a lifetime, having been together for 5 years. so naturally, when she proposed to you on your anniversary, you could hardly contain your excitement. there were tears, kissing and laughing (and the best engagement sex ever). it was the absolute best night of your life.

since you were a little girl you had dreamed of your wedding. you were obsessed with wedding dresses and falling in love, constantly imaging what your life was going to look like. when you’d play outside you’d make wedding bouquets out of wild flowers, or when you would draw portraits they’d always depict you walking down the isle. now that you were grown and engaged to the love of your life, you couldn’t wait to get started on planning the wedding.

kate, although she was equally ecstatic to get married, wasn’t as keen on wedding planning. she was more laid back with decisions and didn’t have any particular opinions on how she wanted it to look. ‘just as long as you’re happy, babe’ she would say. you didn’t mind all that much, in fact it made your life easier. you had full reign to make your wedding exactly how you had pictured it.

on the downside, it felt like you were doing this all alone when you really wished it was something you two could do together. you just wanted to sit down, after kate came home from practice and you from work, and look through different flowers and centerpieces. you wanted to do cake testings and pick out color schemes. but kate’s answer was always the same when you asked: ‘whatever you like, i like’.

you knew that possibly couldn’t be true. kate was an open book and you knew literally everything about her. there had to be at least one cake flavor she despised or one flower she didn’t like, there’s no way she was fine with anything. sometimes you felt irritated that there weren’t any disagreements about the wedding, she accepted any ideas you threw her way and it really bothered you. planning a wedding, throwing a party in honor of your love for one another, should be about what both of you want.

it had already been months since your engagement and the wedding was rolling around quicker than expected. within days, you became stressed and overwhelmed. there were still so many decisions to make, so many people to call, so many things that still needed to be made perfect. these past few weeks have been incredibly hectic, and to no surprise, you felt isolated and alone. perhaps it was just typical bridal anxiety, or maybe it was the fact that your fiancé wanted nothing to do with helping prepare for your big day.

one late night, around 12 am, you sat on the floor of your shared living room. you had came home late from a night shift at work, waiting up for kate to come home from a night out with the team. with the wedding being so close you decided to spend the extra time tying loose ends and checking things off your to do list. you always waited for kate when she was out late, it was near impossible to sleep without her, so you didn’t mind.

there were folders and binders spread on the coffee table in front of you. little scraps of color samples and inspiration pictures took up every square inch, various phone numbers and addresses also scattered every which way. to any outsider, it’d seem like chaos, but you enjoyed the sweet moments of wedding planning.

not long after you organized the floral section of your wedding binder, you heard the lock of the front door click open. it was followed by the creak of the hinges and heavy footsteps. you looked over from your spot on the ground, seeing kate drop her bag at the door and kick her shoes off. she was tired, you could tell, but still buzzing from hanging out with her teammates.

“hey, baby! you’re home!” you smiled as she approached you. she leant down to press a chaste kiss to your lips before setting down on the couch that you sat against.

“hey,” she was slightly out of breath. she was leaning over your shoulder now, eyeing the mess on the table “wedding stuff? this late?”

“yeah, i wanted to keep myself busy while i waited for you”

“gotcha” with a monotone response, she was already dismissing you and pulling out her phone. she didn’t ask about what you were arranging or what folder you were working on, but instead she was checking instagram?

it made your blood boil slightly, the way that she was completely clueless to anything wedding related.

“want to help me?” you asked, looking back at her “if you’re gonna be up for a little longer, i’d like the help”

“you know me, babe. i’m really not good with that, you’ve got the eye for all of it” she didn’t even bother to make eye contact with you.

“really?” you choked back a scoff, torn between wanting to be mad and confront her or letting the matter roll over.

“what do you mean ‘really’?” now she was paying attention, typical.

“don’t worry about it, let’s just go to to bed” you pushed yourself off the floor, putting on your slippers and heading for the stairs. before you could move, however, kate had grabbed your wrist gently to keep you in place.

“well i am worried,” her face contorted to any angry frown “why are you mad all of the sudden?”

“because kate, you’re pissing me off”

“what the hell did i do?”

you wanted to scream, the emotion starting to build up inside of you. for months you had been annoyed with how she left all the wedding stuff for you to do. how she didn’t even want to be involved in this made you feel like you weren’t doing this wedding to proclaim your love, that you were really just doing it for yourself.

it wasn’t your intention to pick this fight tonight, but oh god did you just want to get it all off your chest.

“i’m pissed because you don’t even want to help with this wedding, kate! you can’t even sit down with me for 5 minutes and help me organize a fucking folder”

“that’s not true i-”

“no it is!” you didn’t even want to hear the bullshit that was bout to spew from her mouth. she remained on the couch, jaw clenched in anger as you cut her off “every time i ask you to do something, you blow me off and leave me to do it by myself! you have no interest in doing any of it with me”

“babe, i’m just not good at that stuff. i thought you wanted to plan this?” she was chewing at the inside of her cheeks now, you could tell she was trying to avoid this conversation.

“with you! i want to plan this with you! but for some reason you want no part in it! i have asked time and time again for a little help in hopes that you’d become interested in it. because in all honesty, kate, i don’t even care about the wedding being perfect. i just want to do it with you! i want you to care and to go to run wedding errands with me, i want you to want to do it with me, but you don’t even give a shit!”

her face started to turn red with annoyance, eyes pressed shut. her large hands covered her face as the ran down her cheeks. she was practically huffing as she sat there listening to you completely hound her for her disinterest.

“you haven’t even asked me about what flowers i decided to go with or shown any fucking interest in my god damn dress. my dress, kate, the part that i’m most excited for. you don’t even care about that and it hurts. and you dont ev-”

“jesus, i don’t care about the fucking wedding, YN!”

she could have just punched you right in the face, it probably would have hurt less than hearing her say that. your heart dropped, noticing how she was seething in rage. jaw still clenched, hands tugging at the roots of her hair, trying to calm herself down.

your eyes welled with tears, body frozen as you tried to process what just happened. she she really not care at all? it didn’t take long for the tears to start spilling, running down your cheeks in heavy cascades. a sob struck your body, you tired to bite your lip to hold it back but it was no use.

“great,” you muttered. she finally looked up at, body softening when she realized what she said “glad i know how you feel”

“baby…” she stood up abruptly, trying to come over to you.

“save it, it’s clear that you don’t care about the wedding” more sobs took over you, it killed kate to see you like this. she was kicking herself internally for even thinking that. why did she say that?

“if it’s really that big of a deal” you stepped back when kate tried to reach for you hand to apologize “then let’s just call the whole thing off”

“YN, no” she begged, tears of her own building up “baby come on, i didn’t mean it, don’t say that”

“why not? i mean you don’t have any interest in it. like at all, not even enough to spend time with me to do it. so let’s just call it”

“i don’t want to call it off” her lips contorted to a frown “i wouldn’t have proposed if i didn’t want to marry you and spend the rest of my life with you. honey please, i don’t want to call it off”

“you’re not acting like it” is all you could say, you were truly speechless at this point. “why scream at me that you ‘don’t care about the wedding’ when i’m trying to express my feelings to you if you don’t want to call it off”

“because i’m a fucking idiot” her voice wobbled as she began to cry. the pattern of her tears mimicking yours “i don’t know why i said that, it’s not true even in the slightest. i’ve just been so stressed with everything recently and stuff with the wedding has just been so overwhelming, but at the end of the day i just want to marry you, baby. that’s no excuse, i’ll admit that i haven’t been a very good fiancé”

“no you haven’t” you crossed your arms, wiping away some of your tears “i know things are stressful…and i get that, but you don’t even seem interested. like you don’t want to do this with me”

“i do,” another wave of sadness washes over her “i think i’m just scared. things are happening so quick and change makes me nervous…our life is so perfect and i’m worried that i’m gonna fuck it up somehow. whether it’s planning the wedding or being a shitty wife, i feel like im going to fail”

“kate…” you swallowed deeply. it sent another pang to your heart knowing that this is how she felt all along “is that really how you feel? like you’re going to fail?”

she nodded, sniffling as she looked down at her feet in embarrassment. you ran over to her in an instant to pull her into your arms. she collapsed into your body, arms wrapping around your waist, chin sitting atop your shoulder as she cried to you. your hands rubbed her back smoothly, letting her get all of it out.

“i’m sorry, i’m so sorry that i’ve been so shitty” you could feel your shirt dampen with teardrops “you don’t deserve any of this. i can’t believe i said i don’t care, i never meant it, i swear”

“hey hey hey,” your hand now finding the back of her head, running your fingers through her hair “it’s going to be ok, i get it, we can work past that. but the last thing i want is for you to feel like you’re going to be a shitty wife. baby, i don’t think you could be a bad wife even if you tried”

“you’re just saying that”

“i’m not! i mean it! you’re the love of my life and i think you’re perfect inside and out. i wouldn’t have said yes if i didn’t accept every part of you. we’ll have ups and downs like everyone does, but that doesn’t mean i don’t still love you and it certainly doesn’t make you a shitty wife”

she released you from the hug when you took ahold of her shoulders. you ran your palms up and down her biceps before moving to her face, fingers grazing her cheekbones.

“it’s going to be ok, alright?” you cracked a smile, pressing a kiss to her forehead as you got up on your tip toes.

“i’m sorry, i love you so much” she pulled you in for a real kiss, this time, lips coming into contact with yours.

“i love you too”

after that night, kate made it her mission to change. she started helping out more, like you had asked, but she was also doing things on her own. kate picked out her suit, called the wedding photographer, and a handful of other things on your list. it was clear to you now that she just needed reassurance. it was going to take sometime to recover from what she had said to you, but you knew none of it was true and it was something you could work past.

you just wanted to marry your girl.

and marry her, you did.

[muffinsin]

hiya muffin!

i was wondering, if you havent done this prompt before, you would write something about the dimitrescus dating a strongwoman-type reader? Like, big, tall, throw-you-over-her-shoulder typa gal. If you dont write specific genders thats fine too ‼️‼️ Im just very self-indulgent, as someone whos RE8 oc is built like a TANK. 😓

thank you for your time. Stay peachy! 👽

Oh? Absolutely!👀👀! I write for female and neutral readers, so you’re all good! :) I think I’ll have to check out your OC sometime then! Very much of a fan of..buff…women…😋

Kept a lot of littler HCs in these to add a bit variety to it!🙇‍♀️👀

Let’s get into it :)

Masterlists

Bela

With Bela by your side, it becomes very clear that there are two types of physical strength in people at the castle

The type you possess

And the type she wields

Her, wielding unnatural strength gifted by the cadou infecting her

And still, physically speaking, Bela is rather petite, with no visible muscles, only soft skin and an overall rather skinny build, little body fat or muscles seen

You, on the other hand, are almost a direct opposite to this

While being incredibly strong for someone from the remote village, you certainly also look it, unlike your girlfriend

And poor Bela just about melts at this

Feeling your strength and seeing the muscles proving it are incredible exciting to her

She likes to cling onto your arms when you walk

When you suddenly flex them, you often manage to pull a gasp from her

Unfortunately, she manages to stay quiet sometimes, only straightening up adorably and holding on a little tighter

When you cuddle, Bela loves to be held by you, to feel your frame against hers, to hide away from her responsibilities for just a little while

While she won’t ever admit it, she feels so safe around you, extra much so due to your height and strength

Somehow, it helps her feel almost small, looked after

A break from being the coolheaded heiress. The cunning huntress. The eldest sister forced to manage her younger sisters day after day

A break from being the strong one, the responsible one

Simply to be Bela, Bela, who is wrapped up in your arms, held tight, comforted

Often she will hold onto your strong shoulders then, or wrap herself around your upper body all together

Of course your girlfriend enjoys different portrays of your strength, too

When you occasionally quite literally pick her up, you always bring a squeak from her thick lips

Always, without fail. You love it

No matter how long she’s with you, she will never get used to that

You wouldn’t think she is used to it, her tall physique and overall cannibalistic and dangerous nature not quite- well- inviting one to pick her up like she weighs nothing

Funnily enough, you find Bela does weigh very little, being made of a swarm of flies

She’ll hold onto you tight, blush adorably as she’s carried

When she feels particularly comfortable, perhaps even somewhat carefree, she’ll giggle when you pick her up

Often, you find yourself picking her up and slinging her over your shoulder when she overworks herself yet again

She’s whine and giggle, insist she has things to get done

Both of you know it’s a losing battle anyway, for she too craves the comfort you offer her

Another time you display your strength is by purposefully showing off

Such as when she looks around her room for her sickle, usually whenever some foolish maid dared “clean” her perfectly organized room or one of her sisters went through it to find something

You like displaying your strenght by easily picking some of the furniture or items up for her as you help her look

When feeling playful, you pick her up entirely, drawing giggles from her when you claim “nope, not under here!”

You’re happy you’re one of the rare people to make her laugh

Cassandra

Cassandra is considered the strongest individual at the castle, and has been for a long time

Well, aside Alcina, that is

Still, she takes pride in being the strongest among her sisters, the most efficient killer and huntress

You don’t change this, necessarily

But, you easily become one of the, if not the strongest mortals at the castle

And as such, with your height and strength, you stand out

In the beginning, you think Cassandra must hate you

She bothers you each day, digs her nails into you and scratches, bites and giggles your ears off

She’s a nuisance, even reduces the time spent in her precious torture chambers if only to annoy you a little more

Soon, you find out;

No, she does not hate you

In fact, it couldn’t be any more wrong to assume so

No, strong, evil, sadistic Cassie has a crush

Someone to match her, perhaps?

She’s excited at the thought

She tests you, you find soon, seeing just how much she can toy with you before you snap

Ever trying to fluster you with hot, open mouthed bites along your skin and back, you eventually think to even the field

Now, acting against Cassandra can certainly to a quick death sentence and a drawn out, torturous death below the castle grounds

Alas, you know: Cassandra is playing a game

She wants you to join in, to receprocate

Bored of the average staff members surrounding you, the playful brat wants a challenge

One only you can give her

So, the next time she gets near, trails her sharp fingernails along your arms and moves in to bite yet again, you strike

“EAA!”

You didn’t think you could make the fear-inspiring, brutal, nightmarish Cassandra Dimitrescu squeak, but find it’s an utterly adorable sound

Thrown over your shoulder easily, Cassandra hammers with closed fists against your back, squirming and kicking to be let down again

You deny her this

After all, if she truly wanted it, she would free herself from your grasp

You’ve seen it a hundred times before, how she slips from intruders and predators by turning into a deadly swarm of flies piercing its skin

Or her pool of strength, even, which she doesn’t seem to even dip into as she hammers her fists weakly against your back, careful she doesn’t cause any serious damage

It’s a game of play-pretend, her protests loud while a large smile is on her face

You dare interact with her, even dare to push and pull playfully. You indulge her

She likes you

Over the course of weeks, she keeps on doing the same, biting and teasing you only to end up surprised when you push back, grabbing her and throwing her light, but muscular body across your shoulder or holding her and carrying her by your hip as you work

The two of you enjoy your game, the playful bickering, the little wounds inflicted that you know she loves to see on your skin

Soon, she makes the first step, once at last swarming from your grasp to plant her lips against yours

Eager, you reciprocated, not about to let the opportunity pass

Neither of you feel the need to take your time, and quickly a kiss blooms into a relationship of playfulness, affection, pain and pleasures

You find, she enjoys how you catch her off guard when she’s about to fight you and is thrown over your shoulder easily

Even if it does earn you a few bites along your back

While she never quite uses her full strength on you, knowing it would shatter your bones and tear your skin like paper, she does like to bite and scratch, giggling when you reach up to smack her ass or tighten your grip in her as pain rushes through you

This aside, you find she enjoys a show of your strength even much behind closed doors

When you’re wrapped up in one another, she too likes to give you a display of her strenght, laughing in delight as both of you struggle to keep the other down

And lastly, in softer moments, she likes to be curled up on top of you like an overgrown cat, her flies buzzing calmly with your strong arms around her

While having a few muscles herself, she’s still somewhat petite compared to you, her body strong, but unable to sport too many muscles due to her biology

You find, she likes touching up your arms even more due to this, remanding head scratches with one hand while her teeth sink into the arm of the other

Daniela

When seeing you for the first time, Daniela just about throws herself at you

Never has she seen anyone with your physique, finding mostly weak maidens working at the castle whereas anyone of ample strength is often sent to work for Lord Heisenberg or Moreau

You chose the castle, instead

On your first day you encounter the woman already

Daniela’s swarm is all around you, her upper body formed just so she can trail her fingertips up your chest and to your shoulder

“Aren’t you a delicious thing”, she coos, her lips parted, her eyes set on you

She looks ready to eat you, no, not only ready, eager

And while you try to be as polite as possible and not get yourself into trouble with her, Daniela shows clear interest in you

She’s on you each day, trailing her fingers across your skin, shamelessly touching up your arms and shoulders and swarming in the air to lean her head on your back and shoulders, her expression almost dreamily

She’s convinced you love her early on; after all, why wouldn’t you, silly!

And as such, you find she’s very touchy

When you’re working, she’s often pressed up against her back, her shorter frame against you and her breasts pushed into your back causing your own nipples to harden occasionally

Your body and mind certainly responds to her

When you sit, on a break somewhere, you already know to anticipate her coming your way and boldly sitting down on top of your thighs, chatting about this and that

As she does one night, her head rested against your shoulder, her hands in her lap, her body on your lap in turn

She’s talking quietly, but you can tell she’s getting tired by the way her words make less and less sense and she trails off more often before finishing her sentences

Upon proposing she ought to get to bed, she merely whines and curls closer against you

And seeing this, you boldly wrap your strong arms fully around her and lift her

Daniela is up in an instant, giggling and holding onto you as she’s carried to her room

What true princess treatment!, she thinks, and it’s what immediately has her feelings for you double in intensity

You aren’t sure when the two of you got together and started dating, as she’s always been so very touchy and has always somewhat treated you like her girlfriend

Was it when she asked if you’d join her that day? Nestled underneath the warm covers?

Was it when you shared her bed in a different way the first time? When you had her wrapped around your fingers, her smaller, more petite body underneath you?

Or was it when she started regularly pulling you down or swarming up to you for kisses?

When you’d cup her cheeks, lean down and steal some whenever she was on her way out?

Or was it when you started regularly joining her for dinner with her family?

You don’t know, but couldn’t be happier

Being the snuggle bug she is, Daniela loves to be held in your arms

Despite her overall soft and gentle physique, Daniela is very durable and giggles each time you squeeze her hard, completely unharmed

She giggles most when you pick her up and throw her over your shoulder, usually when it’s time for the two of you ought to get some sleep and she’s still sat in the library, reading through yet another romance and fairytale

Both of these things fluster her easily too, though

While Daniela has a flirty personality and a way with words, you manage to reduce her to a blushing, gasping mess when you show off your physique or strenght

When undressing or changing, she’s on you immediately, touching and kissing in almost worshipping fashion, occasionally even biting or scratching when she can’t hold herself back

And lastly, she loves to go hunting with you

Your physique gives you an advantage few others have and allow you to hunt with her

Leaving the castle is a privilege known to little and even should you not hunt with her, you like to accompany her

Often, this means waiting by a small pond for her and ending up bathing together when she returns covered in blood

[mahowaga]

THE TRIWIZARD TOURNAMENT FOR THE BEAU IDÉAL OF IDIOCY | N.K. — TASK #2

SUMMARY: you're supposed to be in the stands, eating snacks and talking strategy with your friends, enjoying watching the three champions battle for the triwizard cup. you're not supposed to be entangled in what seems to be your own personal (hell) triwizard tournament.

PAIRING: ravenclaw!nanami kento x hufflepuff!fem!reader | mc's best friend yu haibara CONTAINS: hp x jjk au, (friends who are) idiots to lovers, romance, fluff, crack, profanity PLAYLIST: the course of true love never did run smooth WC: 6.6k WARNINGS: none, a thrown bread roll

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— TASK #2: HOW TO SUCCESSFULLY FAIL AT FINDING SOMETHING TO WEAR AT THE ABSOLUTE LAST MINUTE

(Imagine sewing a whole tie and headband to wear to the Yule Ball with your date but forgetting that you don’t actually have anything else to wear. That’s the predicament you find yourself in, scrambling to get your hands on a dress just two days before the Ball. You blame Kento for being so distracting with his charm, but at least you’ve gotten better at dancing - and that was by practicing with the aforementioned distractingly charming young man. You have to give yourself flowers for that one.)

If you play stupid games you’ll win stupid prizes. Except you didn’t get your stupid prize for completely submerging Fushiguro Toji in vinegar.

You wait it out for two whole days before you meet up with Satoru and ask him what the situation is looking like - why the two of you haven’t been summoned to the Headmaster’s office. He’s just as confused as you are. 

Ultimately, the two of you decide that Toji didn’t press charges, so to speak, because how is he supposed to justify being in the kitchen corridor and asking you, of all people, to the Ball? And, let’s face it, everyone saw what happened between the two of you when you asked him the first time, and they sure as hell heard what he’d called you. (There’s just no space for a change of heart within such a short timeframe, Your Honor.) It just wouldn’t make sense on his part. At least he has the brainpower to come to that conclusion.

The spray paint duo gets away with yet another assault against Toji. History always repeats itself. You’re glad it’s in your favor once again.

You’re sitting with the rest of the Hufflepuffs in the Great Hall, listening to the constant buzz of excitement as the Yule Ball draws even closer. You can’t deny that the enthusiasm is also getting to you. Especially not when you look up from your plate of eggs and toast and make direct eye contact with Kento over at the Ravenclaw table.

Your heart flutters violently (a normal occurrence for you these days). He’s eating porridge, or cereal, or soup - something he needs a spoon for - and when he catches your eye, he puts the utensil down and raises his hand in a small wave, his lips quirking up ever so slightly.

It feels as if you’ve been struck by Cupid’s arrow. It hits you square in the chest, sharp and burning and aching; Kento is truly your heart’s one true weakness, seeing how it decides to act up everytime he looks at you or talks to you or touches you. (Even thinking about him does numbers to you.) The version of you from your Fourth Year would not have survived the knowledge that you and Kento are now kind of a thing. (It’s up in the air. You haven’t really discussed it with him.)

You wave back, albeit timidly, and his smile grows wider before he turns his attention back to his breakfast and the students chattering around him.

Haibara catches you biting your lip when you return your focus to your toast. He nudges you with his elbow.

“Did I just see you waving at lover boy over there?” he asks. You don’t even want to look at him, already knowing he has an incredibly smug grin on his face. (You do it anyways and prove yourself right. You know this boy better than the back of your own hand.)

You exhale slowly, trying to make yourself look as innocent as possible, and reply, “You act like you wouldn’t do the same thing. He’s your friend, too, you know.”

Haibara huffs a laugh. “Sure, he’s my friend,” he says, glancing at Kento on the other bench, “but I don’t blush after I say hey to him.”

That’s it. He’s done. You’re going to physically assault him.

You shove him, cursing his entire lineage, only for him to burst into laughter. If you knew anything about wrestling it would be instant lights out for him. He would be in the Hospital Wing before he could even say ‘lover boy’ again.

“What’s happening here?”

You pull away from Haibara and straighten immediately, turning your head to see who came up behind you. You relax (slouch) when you realize it’s just Shoko.

Her red and gold tie is loose around her neck. She leans between you and Haibara, the end of her tie brushing against your shoulder. (You’re reminded of a certain tie that a certain someone will be wearing at a certain ball in two days.)

You clear your throat, trying to look put together. Hopefully she doesn’t notice how red your cheeks are - not just from Kento, but from your best friend calling you out. The last thing you need is an onslaught of questions about who the object of your attraction is. (That would be your last straw, you fear. You wouldn’t make it out alive.)

Thankfully, Shoko doesn’t seem to pay attention. Instead, she seems to have her sights set on grabbing Haibara by the collar.

He stiffens. She pulls him close, her voice low. You stifle a laugh.

While he’s getting interrogated, no doubt about what color he’s wearing to the Ball, what time he’ll meet her and all the other tiny details, you shift your attention to the table behind you.

The Slytherins.

You’re not scanning the faces of the students for Toji. You’re looking for-

Satoru waves at you, and because he’s built like an insanely tall and lanky tree branch, he looks like one of those inflatable tube men with the wavy hands you find at gas stations.

You let out a laugh at his ardor and wave back. Your heart isn’t exactly racing, but it feels lighter than usual. 

Without the weight of imminent suspension or expulsion on your shoulders for your crimes, you’re feeling pretty good about the Yule Ball coming up in two days. After all, you’re going with Nanami Kento, who seems to get bolder with you with every passing day, always knowing exactly what to do to make your heart race. (Then again, maybe you don’t hide it as well as you think you do. Your face is a canvas of every streak of emotion you feel.) And Toji hasn’t bothered you in a hot minute either - he’s no doubt afraid you’ll pull your little vinegar trick on him again. (You really ought to figure out a spell that shoots the damn thing out of your wand.)

Shoko jostles your shoulder, pulling you out of your self-made bliss. You blink slowly before realizing she’s talking to you.

“Huh?”

She rolls her eyes. “Your dress?” she repeats. “What style are you going for?”

“My dress..” you murmur. You’re pretty sure your eyes have glazed over. (The prospect of a bright and unproblematic future has you in a chokehold.)

Wait.

Wait a minute.

Your dress?

“My dress?” you ask.

Haibara presses his lips into a thin line and pulls Shoko by her arm, her attention returning to him, since he’s clearly given up on the thought of you ever coming up with a coherent answer.

A beat. Then-

It hits you like a sack of rocks. Pointy rocks. Right in the gut. It takes all the air out of your lungs. If anyone is looking at you, all they’ll see is you keeling over your breakfast, groaning in horror.

Haibara, only mildly concerned, throws a bread roll at your head to make sure you’re alive, but you don’t even feel it bounce off of your cranium because:

You. Don’t. Have. A dress.

The biggest event of your life with the guy you’ve been crushing on since forever and you don’t have anything to wear besides a stupid hairband you sew yourself.

You wish for nothing but death to come and take you.

(Explaining your situation to Kento is probably the most embarrassing thing you’ve ever had to do (and you know a thing or two about embarrassment). What makes it worse is that you have to spill the beans after he catches you trying to go to Hogsmeade on your own when it’s clearly become a thing the two of you do together on the weekends. To his credit, when you tell him he simply shrugs and says, “Let’s go get you a dress, then,” before taking your hand. He’s really a roll with the punches type of guy, you’re beginning to realize. After every incredibly humiliating thing that has happened to you within the past few weeks that he has had the adversity of witnessing, he doesn’t bat an eye and takes it in stride, continuing to look at you like you’re the warmest, freshest loaf of bread that’s come right out of the oven, the scent of flour and yeast and comfort wafting into the air, hitting you with fond memories, contentment and comfort. Or maybe he just looks at you as if he can’t believe he’s stuck going to the Ball with a person whose entire existence could be characterized by a pair of clown shoes. You hope it’s the former.)

The snowflakes fall from the sky slowly, reminiscent of cherry blossom petals in the wind. They’re gentle, unassuming, simply fluttering down from the neverending expanse of gray up above with no real destination, piling on top of each other to create a soft, icy blanket on the ground.

You hold on to Kento’s arm as tightly as you can as you walk through the cobbled streets of Hogsmeade, determined not to slip and fall. You’re not sure you’ll ever recover if that happens to you.

The village is quiet, as if it is holding its breath as it observes you (a clown) and Kento (a distinguished young man) strolling down High Street, boots sinking into the powder-y snow that’s accumulated after three hours of snowfall, leaving behind an exquisite delineation of two people huddling together for warmth - and maybe something more.

You sneak a glance at Kento. His cheeks and nose are painted a rosy red, a souvenir of sorts, from the arctic winds blowing through the street. The temperature itself isn’t that unbearable - it’s the wind making it feel chillier than it is. It’s overreacting. (Quite like how he probably thought you’d been overreacting when you had a minor freak out about not having a dress.)

He catches your eye and nudges you, pulling you closer against his side. Your arm is looped around his, your other arm holding onto him, occasionally grabbing a fistful of his coat’s sleeve when the ground beneath you decides to transfigure into a skating rink.

“Is there something on my face?” he asks, the corner of his lip twitching upwards.

You tear your eyes away from him with a roll of your eyes, shoving him ever so slightly, flustered by his antics. (That boy knows damn well why you’re looking at him.) 

“You’re so annoying,” you mutter.

He doesn’t let go of you. Instead, he holds you tighter. “Am I really?”

You double down on your statement, because you are not a coward. “Yes.”

He laughs at that, then tilts his head so that it touches yours. A gentle touch that makes your insides liquefy.

A comfortable silence slots itself into the gaps between words unsaid - words that don’t need to be said because your actions speak louder.

This is how it often is with him. It’s quiet. Quiet in the way that whispers of tenderness and ease, a sense of coziness, of relief that neither of you expect each passing moment to be permeated with the cloud of conversation. You can just be, and it is nothing short of bliss.

The snow thins out on the cobblestones as you make your way to your destination, creating a thin layer of what you can only call a slip hazard. You’re half-tempted to ask Kento if he’s found some sort of charm to keep himself from falling over because as of right now you’ve managed to slip three times, bend your ankle twice, and land on your ass once. That’s six times he’s had to stop himself from cracking up. (Your ego can’t take a seventh.)

You choose to ask him about something entirely left field.

“What do you want to be when you graduate?”

For a moment it’s like he hasn’t heard you, but you know he has - he’s just processing. He reminds you of one of those humanoid robots after being given a slightly complicated task.

After a while Kento hums, his voice deep and resonant. He rolls his shoulder. “I’d be an Auror, maybe.”

You look at him, your eyes narrowed. You’re trying to imagine him as an enforcer for the wizarding governing body. It’s not as hard as you thought - he follows rules to a fault, hates people who cause trouble, and he’s got the brains and the brawn to find and raise hell.

He’s a model employee. The blueprint.

“I can see it,” you say, nodding. You wonder about your own goals and ideals. Being an Auror definitely isn’t in the cards for you. 

You raise your eyes to the sky in thought. The snow descends gently, weaving a delicate veil over your face and settling on your lashes like tiny crystals.

Kento shifts beside you. He pulls away, untangling your arms. You feel the loss of his warmth instantly. It’s glaring, and the winter’s chill doesn’t allow you the leisure of processing it before swooping in and latching itself onto you.

You wrap your arms around yourself, but you try to do it discreetly so that he doesn’t notice you’re freezing.

Unfortunately for you, he’s been watching you the entire time, and now he’s stepping in front of you. The flakes of snow are still stuck in your lashes, stubbornly refusing to melt or even blow away with the winter wind. You groan internally, regretting ever turning your face to the snow to think about the future, and blink as quickly as you can so you don’t miss whatever he’s about to do.

Kento reaches out, placing his hands on your cheeks, his touch feather-light. “Let me,” he murmurs. Your body locks up immediately.

He leans in, close enough that his breath is warm against your chilled skin, thawing you bit by bit. He’s so close that your world narrows down to him, only him, and the gentle exhale that sends the stubborn snowflakes fluttering away.

You don’t move. You don’t even blink.

You feel your heart quicken, the sheer intimacy of the moment - of such a simple yet significant action - catching you off guard. Your brain is running as fast as it can, trying to recognize whether his gesture is an act of affection, or, rather, an act of care. With Kento, you can never tell. You want it to be both. (You are also greedy.)

His hands don’t leave your face. You lift your eyes to meet his, your breath hitching when you find a certain warmth in his gaze that is strong enough to mirror the winter’s chill.

Then, as if waking from a reverie, he lets go of you. You just stand there, fixated on him, as the snow continues its gentle descent around the both of you, painting the entire scene with a certain ethereal beauty that you can’t replicate anywhere else.

Something has shifted between the two of you - quiet, unspoken, yet undeniable. You don’t have any concrete proof of it just yet, just a persistent hum in your gut. (And you’re beginning to learn that when it comes to him, your gut feelings are usually right on the money.)

Something has shifted, and you’re very aware that he’s not trying to be your friend anymore (not that he has been one for the past few weeks). He’s making a statement.

Maybe he’s been making one for a long time now, and you - wrapped up in your own head, tangled in your own overcomplications - have been too blind to see it, because he’s right there, patient, steady, hand outstretched for you.

Maybe he’s been waiting for you to notice all along, and you’re not sure how to digest this revelation.

You reach for his hand, your heart suddenly calmer than it has been in a long time, your nerves completely passive, as if you’re finally allowing yourself to acknowledge that there is a real connection between you both that goes beyond a meager crush, or even just physical attraction. You don’t feel like you’re caught between anticipation and vulnerability anymore, no longer stuck between a rock and a hard place (your mind being the outstanding puppeteer to all your overthinking). 

No, something inside of you has dislodged and is granting you complete permission to feel the closeness, the profound tenderness in everything you do with him.

You take a deep breath and exhale, your breath misting in the cold air. It steadies you. His hand in yours works, too.

“What do you want to be?”

You’re still reeling from the realization that what you have with Kento is real and has substance that you don’t hear him for a split second.

You frown. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”

Kento smiles, bright as ever, full of nothing but pure joy. He shakes his head slightly before pulling you closer. “I asked you what you’d want to be when we’re done at Hogwarts.”

Oh. Right. You still don’t have an answer. Well, there’s always the option of being-

“A professional quidditch player,” you blurt out. Despite your heartbeat being normal and not bordering cardiac arrest, it doesn’t stop your nerves from firing back up. Being this close, pressed against him, basically, just inches away from his face, your head tilted up to look at him, it makes you jittery. In a good way. Because now you get to stand there, your hand in his, his attention solely on you, and gloat in the fact that he is yours. (You should probably wait for confirmation before saying all that.)

A beat of silence.

“You know,” he says, his voice low, like he’s saying something meant for only you, “the other schools are going to be at the Ball. They’re going to have their eyes on the champions, sure, but they’re going to be looking at you and Gojo, too. The two of you are Hogwarts’ best quidditch players in years. There’s no doubt they’ll put in a word for you guys.”

You can feel the heat rising to your cheeks. He basically just repeated Satoru’s pitch back to you, except he didn’t tell you you should go with Gojo instead of him.

Huh. You underestimated Nanami Kento. You’d originally thought he’d sacrifice being your date to let you receive your flowers from the other schools’ higher ups, but it seems he’s found a way to satisfy both your needs: he gets to keep his date, and you get your exposure.

He’s a genius, actually. You simply look at him in awe. They don’t make guys like him anymore, you’re sure of it. Your grip on his hand tightens, and if he notices, he doesn’t say anything.

You force yourself to nod. “You think, though? I mean, Satoru’s a given, but me?”

Self-doubt is a disease.

He raises a brow. “You’re one of the best players I’ve ever seen,” he says, touching your cheek. “Trust me, no one is going to skip over you.”

You beam at him, and he does the same, though his eyes are sharp, as if telling you Don’t ever put yourself down like that ever again.

You swallow hard and tear your gaze away from his.

The street is basically empty, save for some locals wandering around, but that’s because it’s not exactly the selected weekend for Hogsmeade visits. You’re just here because Kento gets Head Boy privileges.

The signature pink framed windows of Gladrags Wizardwear catches your eye in the distance. That’s your destination.

Your fingers tighten around his, a quiet anchor in the cold. “Come on, I see it over there.”

He chuckles, but he doesn’t just oblige - he readjusts his grip and laces his fingers through yours, squeezing once before following your lead.

The warmth envelops you the moment you step into the quaint shop. (You say quaint because it looks like a hole in the wall from the outside, but it’s actually as huge as a standard grocery store on the inside.) Your skin tingles from the sudden change in temperature, but you’re glad for it. 

The scent of candle wax, fabric and something vaguely floral lingers in the air. The walls are lined from top to bottom with dresses, robes, shoes, accessories - it’s the type of place where you can either find exactly what you’re looking for, or nothing at all. You’re just hoping you can get your hands on something beautiful enough to complement Kento, because you’ve no doubt in your mind that he’s going to look absolutely dashing. (He always does, but that’s besides the point.)

Kento steps in beside you, exhaling slowly, shaking off the chill from outside. He takes his gloves off and stuffs them into his coat pocket, then rubs his hands together absently, flexing his fingers, trying to jumpstart the blood circulation.

You try not to stare. (He’s making it hard not to.) Everything he does seems so effortless. (He literally just took off his gloves.)

His hazel eyes slide over you before he looks around the store, scanning it with an almost lazy curiosity. He’s not here for himself, after all. He’s here for you. The mere thought makes your stomach flutter way more than it should.

“Do you have something in mind, or do you need help picking something out?” he asks casually, and for a second you want to scoff, because there’s no way this boy is acting like everything’s normal when he just held your face and blew snowflakes off your lashes. Absolute madness.

You cast a glance at your surroundings, eyeing the entire section dedicated to dresses. The size of the selection is vaguely threatening. (You’re sure that if you don’t find something it will quite literally get you blacklisted from the shop - over one thousand options to choose from and nothing catches your eye? Something has to be wrong with you.)

“I, uh. I mean.” You swallow. Get it together, please. “I can figure it out,” you mumble, shifting towards the displays.

“Okay.”

Kento follows, keeping close - too close (but you’re not complaining.) You like knowing he’s there, feeling his presence, his warmth at your back. It also serves as a reminder that you can’t exactly spend all day here because you need to get back to the castle before curfew. You doubt it’s very ladylike of you to abuse Kento’s Head Boy privileges more than two times a day. (You’re joking. Mostly.)

You flip through the vast selection on the rack nearest to you, skimming through embroidered silks, soft velvets, delicate laces and shimmering chiffons. You’re hyper aware of his eyes on you despite his fingers ghosting over the gowns as if he’s sifting through them, too.

It’s silent for a while. Then-

“You’re stalling.”

Your eyes widen. “I’m not.”

He raises a brow. “You are.”

You pretend not to be rattled when he reaches over and curls his fingers around your wrist, tugging gently. The contact is brief but scorching, sending a jolt up your arm. You move over to where he’s standing. He looks at you, smiling- no, smirking. He knows what he’s doing to you.

“Here,” he says, plucking a gown from the rack and holding it up against your frame. He eyes you up and down as if assessing how well it would work. When he seems satisfied, he nods slightly. “Try this one on.”

You look at his pick. It’s an off-the-shoulder gown with an intricate lace pattern on the bodice, the color an intense, enigmatic cobalt blue. It’s elegant, flowing and not too over-the-top. (You can’t deny he has taste. More than you, maybe, because you were eyeing a puffy yellow dress.)

“Blue?” you ask.

He lifts a shoulder. “My dress robes are blue. I thought you’d want to match.”

While he’s not wrong and you’re currently trying to imagine what he’s going to look like at the Ball your mind is plagued by something else. Something absolutely horrifying.

You recoil. “Blue?” you ask again, and before he can say anything you continue, “With that yellow tie? Kento.” You pinch the bridge of your nose, shaking your head. (That spotted yellow necktie is an ignominious failure of yours.)

He looks amused, huffing a laugh. “I think it goes well with my outfit.”

“We need to work on your fashion skills.”

“My fashion skills are unmatched.”

You scoff, and return your attention to the gown in his hands. It’s not the type of style you’d usually go with, but before you can protest (or bash his sense of style), he’s lightly guiding you towards the fitting room, his hand hovering over the small of your back.

Your brain is seriously lagging. Too much has happened and is happening. You’re just going with the flow at this point - it’s the only way your survival is guaranteed.

You’ve been standing in the fitting room, slack-jawed, for at least ten minutes now, just staring at yourself in the floor length mirror. You adjust the fabric over your body, making minor adjustments.

It’s perfect.

The color, the fit, the way it moves when you shift - it’s everything you’ve wanted and more. (So Kento does have taste.)

You smooth your hands down the bodice, tracing the lace as you do, a nervous thrill curling in your stomach.

From outside, you hear Kento’s voice, casual, but expectant.

“You’ve been in there for a while,” he says. “Do I have to come in there and get you out?”

You roll your eyes even though he can’t see you because you can just hear him grinning. You step out anyway, lifting the fabric so you can walk.

His eyes light up when he sees you. He doesn’t say anything at first - it’s just his gaze sweeping over you, taking in every detail, every wrinkle, every curve. His grin fades into something quieter. Something unreadable. His eyes flicker over your figure again, tracing the lines of the gown, the way it falls around you like it’s made for you. For a moment, you wonder if you’ve actually rendered him speechless.

Then, finally, after you’ve somehow convinced yourself that he doesn’t like it, his lips twitch upwards.

“Yeah,” he says, his voice low. “That’s the one. It looks- you look beautiful.”

God, you wish he wouldn’t look at you like that. Like you’re something worth admiring.

“Really?” you mutter, twisting around, trying to do anything to avoid his piercing gaze. “I mean-” You catch sight of the price tag hanging from the sleeve. You reach for it, praying it isn’t an outrageous price, and flip it over.

Your stomach drops.

“Oh no.”

It’s more than you expected. Way more.

Kento notices the frown on your face almost immediately. He leans forward. “What’s wrong?”

You hesitate, awkwardly shoving the tag into the bodice, and turn to him. “Nothing.”

(You lie here because, and Helga Hufflepuff will most definitely back you up on this, nothing is more humiliating, i-want-to-chug-poison inducing and jump-in-front-of-the-Hogwarts-Express inspiring than admitting you’re broke to the boy you like. You think you deserve a pass for this one.)

His brow arches. “You’re a terrible liar.”

Of course this is what he clocks as your worst lie (not the one where you said you were basically a professional at ballroom dancing). It’s not your finest moment.

You sigh heavily, your face burning. “Fine. Have you seen the price on this thing?”

He comes closer to take a look while you hold out the tag for him. His brows raise and he casts you a glance. “Oh, that’s-”

“Expensive,” you finish, already making your way back to the fitting room, the fabric lightly gripped in your hands.

“So?”

You pause. So?

You turn around, the gown flaring. “So I’m not about to spend an obscene amount of Galleons on a dress I’m only going to wear once.” (You’re hoping you sound logical instead of heartbroken, because you’ve fallen in love with the gown - but price hikes are truly a dealbreaker.)

He huffs a laugh. “Okay.”

“Hmph.”

Kento watches you as you disappear into the fitting room and come back out with the gown back on its hanger. He doesn’t say anything as he watches you hang it up rather forlornly, your fingers lingering on the fabric longer than necessary. You are crying on the inside. Such a waste. Such a shame it is way out of your budget.

You don’t look at him as you turn away, pretending to be interested in another rack of dresses - ones that are, unfortunately, also expensive.

It’s not looking too good for you. You might end up being blacklisted, but this time it’ll be because you’re practically bankrupt and not because there wasn’t a single garment that tickled your fancy.

Kento, for his part, leaves you be, silent as ever. You’re not too sure what’s going through his brain. Has he given up on helping you? He’s probably realized that there’s nothing here that’s within your ideal price range. He stands there, watching you without a word, before he walks off toward the counter where the shop employee is standing.

You don’t really pay attention. You assume he’s just giving you some space to find something you like without him hovering - seeing as how the one thing he chose was so close yet so far.

You’ve probably gone through at least ten racks of gowns and it’s all for naught. There’s a ton of gorgeous ones (although that blue one really is the love of your life) but they’re all way too overpriced for your liking. You can’t afford a single one without completely putting yourself in a tough spot financially.

You exhale in defeat and make your way over to Kento, who is talking to the employee, his voice low.

When he sees you come over, he nods at the employee and then gives you his full attention.

You spread your hands and shrug, trying to seem nonchalant. “Maybe we should come back tomorrow. They might have something cheaper.”

His expression is surprisingly unreadable. You frown slightly, trying to make out what he’s thinking.

“Yeah?” he says.

You nod. “Yeah.”

He slips his hands into his pockets, a smile tugging at his lips as he tilts his head. “Good. They’re having a sale tomorrow. He just told me.”

You blink. “What?”

“A sale.” He shrugs, smiling. “Fitting, huh?”

You poke his chest. “Fitting? That’s the worst pun ever.”

He laughs, taking your wrist in his hand before you poke him again.

Something’s off. Something about the way Kento’s acting, from his unreadable expression to his smile, which reeks of mischief and trouble, is eating at you.

You squint at him, leaning in until you’re a few inches away from his face. “Are you up to something?”

He gives you the most innocent look ever - his eyes wide, his head cocked, his brows raised - one that screams, How dare you accuse me of committing a crime? Look at me. (You can’t argue with the logic there.)

“Come on,” he says smoothly, tugging you along with him as he makes his way towards the door. “We’ll find something tomorrow.”

You follow him, but you glance back at the blue dress. You blow it a kiss in your head, as if you’re parting ways with a forbidden lover. The moment you do, the employee takes it down from the rack and starts to pack it into a box.

You sigh. Someone already bought it.

Kento’s looking at you with a small smile on his face when you finally leave the shop and step out into the wintry air once more. It hits you like a brick wall, bringing you back to reality.

You squint up at him once more, and his lip twitches.

Oh, he’s definitely up to something.

By the time you make it back to your dormitory, you’re rightfully breathless (physically) and exhausted (mentally). You lean against the door to catch your breath - the chilly winds had somehow decided to pick up as you made your way back to the castle, and it had both you and Kento pushing your way through, breathing hard once you were exposed to the warmth of the school once more.

He’d dropped you off at the barrels near the kitchen, as usual, and before he left, you’d tried to ask him what he was up to again, only for him to kiss your cheek and leave with a grin on his face. (How insufferable of him.)

A groan leaves your lips. Your legs ache, your brain is absolutely fried, and your heart is still very much recovering from the absolute menace who runs around Hogwarts with the name Nanami Kento.

You don’t even want to think about how he looked at you while you were in that dress, how he’d cupped your face in his hands like it was second nature to him and blew the snowflakes away, how he’d reached for your hand time and time again - and how you’d let him do each and every one of these things without hesitation.

Sighing, you push off the door and head over to the dresser, shedding your layers like they’re a second skin. All you want to do right now is collapse into bed and pass out, forgetting about the world for a moment. (The circuits in your head are too overloaded to even begin to process anything that happened today.)

As you drape your coat over the back of the chair, something clicks. While you mightn’t have gotten the dress you set out to get today, you did get something much more meaningful - the realization that you and Kento have crossed a line in your relationship. It’s no longer just surface-level romantic gestures and playfulness - it’s comfort, care, understanding.

The thought makes you smile out of giddiness. You used to pray for times like these, to be the one Kento looked at like you hung the stars in the sky, the one he spoke to in that soft voice of his, the one he smiled at - it’s still unreal to you, but you’re beginning to accept it. He’s different from the person you admired from afar.

He’s better.

You cast a glance around the room to make sure your roommates aren’t there to see you blushing like a maniac. No one’s here yet. They’re all probably with their dates for the Ball, finalizing last minute details, making sure everything is the epitome of perfection.

You exhale slowly, remembering that you have yet another long day of shopping ahead of you tomorrow. You grumble under your breath as you change into a warm sweater, cursing the wizarding economy and capitalism. (For the price they were selling that blue dress for it might as well be threaded with real silver. Actually, that’s an overstatement, but your point still stands.)

You huff, mildly annoyed. At least you get to spend tomorrow with Kento again. That’ll be the highlight of your day.

With that thought, you make your way to your bed. The house-elves made your bed while you were out again, because it’s as neat as ever and you know you left it looking like a hurricane had run through the room. You murmur a silent thanks to them.

You glance at the bedside table to make sure your lamp is switched off.

Wait.

You freeze-

Because there, sitting neatly on the rich mahogany of the table, is a blue box.

A rather large, elegant, expensive-looking blue box. With a bow. (Very important.)

Your heart skips. You lean in closer. Is this-

No. No way. Absolutely not. This can’t be.

You turn away quickly, covering your eyes - if you can’t see it it doesn’t exist.

Obviously, that doesn’t work.

You sigh heavily, your heart thumping hard against your chest, butterflies rioting in your stomach, and reach for the box, slowly, cautiously, as if it might explode.

Your fingertips graze the embossed surface. The golden ink spells out the name Gladrags Wizardwear. You close your eyes tight, hoping this isn’t what you think it is.

Kento, I swear to God-

Beneath the ribbon is a plain white envelope. You pluck it off, and even before you flip it open, you know who it’s from.

Your stomach does somersaults when you read the singular line scrawled on it in impeccable cursive:

For my favorite delinquent Quidditch captain.

You stare for a moment, unable to make sense of it. Kento has knocked you off of your axis. You shake your head slightly and stare harder.

It’s like your soul is buffering, like it has lost its internet connection and is scrambling to find a suitable replacement to get the job done. While all this happens you’re just standing at your bedside table, reading and rereading that one line, your lips slightly parted.

Your brain doesn’t want to accept the truth, because this can’t be what you think it is. It simply can’t be.

Except, unfortunately, it most definitely is.

You exhale shakily. Your hands tremble slightly as you pull at the lace ribbon and then lift the lid, holding your breath.

It’s exactly what you think it is.

There, neatly folded, looking as perfect as it did in the store-

Is the gown. The gorgeous cobalt blue dress. The one he’d picked out for you and had fit you like a dream. The one he liked. The one you liked. The one you’d reluctantly had to give up because it was way out of your budget. The very one you’d seen the employee start packing away-

Your breath catches in your throat. Your pulse pounds in your ear. Your face burns like a thousand suns.

You slam the box shut hurriedly.

(Kento’s really doing a number on you.)

You open it again, slower this time, as if making sure it’s real, that it’s still there. Just to make sure you’re not hallucinating (as one does).

It’s still there. Still real. Still from him.

(At this point, you’d like to add, your brain is screaming. It wants to revolt after everything you’ve put it through. It’s begging you to get a lobotomy so that it can finally escape its confines.)

It hits you like a ten-tonne dump truck to the face. He bought this for you. That’s why he’d been talking to the employee in such a low voice. It’s why he’s had that look on his face the entire time after. It’s why he was ecstatic when you told him you’d come back tomorrow, because he knew you’d come up to your room and find this here.

Oh, he’s on another level. He’s playing 4D chess with you.

You sit on the edge of your bed and run a hand down your face.

He bought this for you.

He bought this for you.

He bought this for you.

He bought this for you. 

He bought this for you.

It was expensive. And he spent his money on this. For you.

What. An. Idiot.

You close the box and snatch the card back up again, reading his stupidly casual message over and over again like it might magically explain what he thinks he’s playing at. He knows exactly what he’s doing to you. (Sure, you had a revelation about your relationship with him but that doesn’t mean your brain and heart got the memo.)

You flip it over and find another line scrawled there:

Don’t worry about the price.

(He knows you too well.)

You groan, burying your head in your hands. You fall backwards onto your bed, simultaneously kicking your feet and cursing his very existence.

Ugh. You have no idea how you’re going to face him ever again without losing your damn mind.

Nanami Kento is going to be your salvation and your undoing.

A/N: thank you for reading! i hope you enjoyed this one, it was by far one of my favorites to write simply because of how much i love snow. (art by elitamasan on X)

[ask-the-royal-absol]

(So, 2 years, huh? Wild. It has really been 2 whole years. That's just wow. Just crazy how time passes. So, to celebrate, I decided to draw as many characters as I could that have interacted with Destino. I've tried to do them in order but that kinda went out the window the more I drew lol. I wish I could have fitted more on there. I really do.

2 years of my bastard Absol in this wonderful community. I've just got so much that I want to say. I've spoken to so many of you and you're all so incredibly special to me. Each and every single one of you. This community is truly full of incredible people and I'm just so fortunate to have you all in my life. Genuinely. We've had so many laughs. So many moments which I fondly look back on. Some of you theorising on what's going to happen. That makes me happy knowing people are actually invested in what is going to happen. The stupid shitposts that have been suggested. Fuck, they make me laugh looking back on them. The countless AUs that have been discussed. That's what's special about this community; it's just full of those quality moments which make me so happy to be here. I've made so many friends here and I'm grateful that I've gotten to know you all. Thank you for choosing to talk to me. It makes me very happy.

Let's consider all of these moments Destino has had. The pissed off legendary and mortal Pokémon. Destino getting absolutely destroyed by god Pokémon. The insults abound. The bonds that are starting to form. The events they've joined in. It's nice knowing lots of you enjoy them as a character. It's just so much fun interacting as them and interacting with all of your characters. I'm going to look forward to how these will all develop in the future. I am someone who is always keen to let me characters develop friendships with others. Just depends on whether you can crack that shell that Destino puts around themselves.

Now, let's talk the future of this blog. In this next year, I want to finish the Terrestria chapter and head into the next chapter. I was hoping to get further with it but it's alright. I'm probably not going to participate in as many events this next year as I want to get more story bits done. But who knows. Maybe I will. There is one thing I am going to do with the majority of major posts on my blog going forward. The next story post will have this and I hope you all enjoy it because I certainly find it fun to do.

The final thing. I've said it before and I'll say it again. Every single interaction and poll on this blog affects the ending. There are 5 endings in total which you can get on this blog and I have a tally thing which I'm doing which tells me which path we are on. All I'm going to say at the moment is that there are two strong contenders. One has just edged out because of this recent poll. But that's all I'll say on the matter. I am excited to see how it all turns out in the end.

And that's it really. I am excited for this year of Destino and co. I am excited for how I'm going to make you all feel with these characters. Thank you all so, so much for the support you've have given me. Even to those who like and/or reblog my posts. I know my regulars well. I always make it a bit of a competition of who's going to like my posts first. I am so surprised at the speed in which some of you like my posts. It's, like, after a few seconds and that's just crazy to me. I love it.

Bring on year 3.)

[astridthevalkyrie]

love & deepspace | watching the solar eclipse with you

a/n: l&ds boys leave me alone l&ds boys are you listening please leave me alone

You're fiddling with your watch as you stare straight ahead, squinting to see if the short young lady across the street is really watching you through her window or whether or not it's a trick of the light. It certainly wasn't a trick of the light last week. You think it might be because you changed your curtains recently, and it just draws her eyes a little more naturally. You'd be more upset if you didn't spend so much time looking at her window wondering if she was looking at your window.

The wind teases your hair as you lean over the side of the balcony. Down below, the gleam from the quickly disappearing sun shines off your motorcycle, showing off the fresh polish you'd rubbed it down with earlier this morning.

"Admiring your baby?"

"I'm always admiring my baby," you sigh happily, letting out a small excited gasp when Xavier wraps his arms around you and offers you a bag of chips. "You actually found them!"

He hums lowly while you open the bag and dive in. Bless him for being just as much of a snacker as you. Not that the solar eclipse is an event you feel the need to celebrate, not with something like a party at least, but it still feels special. And it feels especially special because you and your boyfriend both made sure to request time off to just enjoy the moment together. For him to hunt down a favorite childhood snack for you too, well...this is a lot more than just a date now. This is something important, you can feel it.

And yet, Xavier treats the entire situation like it's any other day. He burrows his face into your neck, avoiding the sun entirely. The glow on his skin is even more beautiful than the one on your motorcycle.

"Xavier," you giggle, swatting at his hands while his fingers clutch your sweater all the more tightly. "Xavier, this is a once-in-a-lifetime event!"

"So enjoy it," he utters softly, pressing a kiss to your collarbone. "My once-in-a-lifetime event is right here."

"Doctor," you tease quietly, "I think I'll just sneak a small glance—"

Immediately, a warm hand covers your eyes, and you bite back a laugh. Zayne, for how clever he is, takes absolutely no chances with you. One might find it insulting, that he thinks you seriously would simply gaze up at the sun and let it burn your retinas, but you begrudgingly admit that you've perhaps made some impulsive decisions in the past.

With a brief smile, you take his hand in yours, and slide it down to your lips, kissing his palm. Hazel eyes meet yours and soften fondly.

"You only have the one lunch break," he murmurs, "and there is only one eclipse. Surely there were better places to see it aside from my car."

Of course there were. Even the roof of the UNICORNS building would have an incredible view. But Zayne had given you the privilege of sitting in the drivers' seat for once, his AC is always set to the perfect temperature, and most importantly...

Zayne is there. And he watches you like you're the most interesting thing about the world right now—yesterday, today, and always. He took his car out of its special parking spot just to sit in the corner of the street with the best view, all because you asked once, and you couldn't imagine being anywhere else.

Instead of explaining all these reasons, you merely lean over the driver's seat, tug the collar of his short close, and plant a short kiss on his lips. He responds in kind, hand immediately rising to cup your cheek and deepen the kiss.

When he pulls back after a minute, lips swollen a little, he says breathlessly, "We'll miss actually seeing the eclipse at this rate."

"Well, you were right," you whisper, fisting his collar in your hands, "I only have the one lunch break, and I can't waste it."

His gaze becomes something indescribable, and the protective eyewear he's been holding in his hands slips onto the floor of the car as he cups your cheeks.

This time, Zayne kisses you.

For once, you were the dramatic one, insisting on a full outing, which you and Rafayel went back and forth on, until the two of you compromise by going out into his backyard. Outside, you draped a lovely little picnic blanket on the grass.

Rather dramatically, he's draped himself over you, head in your lap like he's making a huge sacrifice.

"Raf, at least look once."

"No," he whines quietly, so soft you want to coo, burying his face into your stomach, "fishies like me can't stare directly into the sun."

You poke his cheek. "Newsflash, H2O-Just-Add-Water, humans can't do that either. That's what the glasses are for."

Rafayel kisses your stomach, looking perfectly content. It's a wonder he even came out with you to see the eclipse at all, considering he's clearly not planning to actually experience it. With a sigh, you curl a few fingers into his hair, absentmindedly scratching the top of his head while you sneak another glance at the little orange light peeking back at you.

He grumbles. "Be careful. I don't trust your human technology."

"Yeah, yeah." With a smile, you look back down at him. "Are you sure you don't wanna see? It's really beautiful!"

"Oh, really?" he muses, muffled against your clothes. "Alright, I'll be the judge of that."

Then, without warning, he turns his head and gazes up.

Immediately, your hand flies up to shield his eyes. Your fingers brush up against your forehead, wisps of hair tickling your thumb as you try in a mild panic to protect him. While your first thought is to scold him for risking his eyesight like that, you note just a second later that Rafayel isn't trying to look at the eclipse. His gaze is trained on you, as though he can see more than the eclipse—the entire universe—in your eyes.

Faintly, you think that the pink of his pupils is prettier than any shade the sun could ever hope to be.

"Hm," he mumbles, reaching up to tuck your hair behind your ear, "yeah, you're right. Beautiful."

[globalrebrand]

Happy Valentines Day! with Crewel

Warnings: Reader is wearing a dress and heels, no pronouns used.

A/N: Fluff, fluff, fluff!

Divus didn't do platitudes. And he certainly didn't do cliches.

As a bachelor he was bold, daring and highly nuanced in his airs. Something like love wouldn't change that. He insisted it wouldn't. You two would remain in love but retain that flavor that made you individuals. You didn't have kowtow to tradition, and certainly not a contrived artificial event like valentines day.

Divus was inclined to ignore the day entirely. But then...the ballet in the capital of the Queendom of Roses was a reviving a performance you had mentioned to be your favorite. He simply had to surprise you with tickets and, then! Your favorite ballerina was coincidentally slated to open the season on Valentine's day, so naturally no other night would do.

And well, after the show you would likely both be hungry....and if you were already dressed up for the ballet why not find and equally sumptuous place to dine after? He happened to know an incredibly excellent restaurant, intimate and small, built in the conservatory of an old city manor that had since been converted into a private members club, of which of course your handsome new beau was a member. Only twelve seats in the entire restaurant and an absolutely earth shatteringly delicious prix fixe menu. Oh! And it just had the best Lambrusco, he'd been trying to source a bottle for you for months but the supplier kept a tight lock on the distribution. That settled that then. Obviously, no other restaurant would do.

Well dinner and a show, or rather a show and dinner was a bit traditional, but Divus knew you'd be delighted, regardless. You weren't as prideful and stringent about such matters even if you too had some quite opinionated stances on style and taste as well. And he's proved himself right when he made you privy to his plans and you'd replied with a giddy squeal over the phone. "I know just what to wear!" you'd said. And he was eager to see what you'd come up with. Then you'd followed with, "I didn't think you were the type to care about Valentine's Day?" and you were right. He wasn't, but while Divus wanted to assure you this was a one time thing that happened to be the result of many happy coincidences, he couldn't bring himself to correct you. "I thought you knew better than to judge a book by it's cover." He replied. You merely chuckled and reiterated you excitement.

With the plans made, the event lingered over you both, a distant date which only grew in anticipation with your shared enthusiasm as it grew nearer. Though he pried and probed casually about your outfit choice you kept your lips sealed. To the shock of no one, Divus also wasn't a fan of surprises but he found in this one instance it didn't bother him as much as it usually might. With you, he was learning a lot of about himself and what he did and didn't do.

Now that the long awaited evening in question was upon you, Divus waited for you on the steps of the theater. He was having trouble keeping his smile at bay and while the urge to light a cigarette came upon him he let it go, knowing you'd chide him for it. Well that and he didn't want anything to take away from the aroma of the flowers he'd procured for you. Red roses would entirely a bridge too far, he'd never recover from the shame of being so horribly ordinary, so he'd chosen a suitably stylish arrangement of blush, white and burgundy peonies, orchids, ranunculus, sweet peas and amaranthus, sweetly bundled with pink ribbon.

He was looking the wrong direction when you called his name. Glancing over his shoulder he almost dropped your bouquet at the sight.

A pale pink overcoat, draped open to expose your dress: a red silk slip evocative of vintage lingerie. It hit at your mid-thigh exposing pretty legs, drawing his eye down to your shoes, elegant pair of red kitten heels.

He was speechless. All he could do was draw you close with a arm around your waist. You invite him in your space and caress his jaw lightly with a gloved hand. "Well...? How do I look?" You attempt to pull away but Divus doesn't let you.

"You took my breath away" He admits, enchanted. The platitude spills from his lips before he can stop it.

"Are these for me?" You point to the flowers.

"Who else but you?" The grin on your features has a matching expression growing across his features. He hands you the bouquet and you cup a ranunculus and inhale. The cliche of flowers on valentines day isn't lost on him, but Divus is finding it very hard to care as he takes in your precious expression, wind bitten cheeks and sparkling eyes.

The sound of a bell chimes outside the theater. 15 minutes to show time.

You make idle chatter as Divus ushers you up the grand stone steps and through centuries old carved bronze doors.

"You know, I didn't think you'd care at all for valentines day." You tell him.

"And why's that?" He questions. A little test he's sure you'll pass. You know exactly why.

"Well I thought you would probably think its sappy and horrible cliche. Which it is! I agree, but well...I suppose I'm just pleased that you do. That is to say, you do care about valentines day." You punctuate your statement with a squeeze of his hand as if to say, 'this is nice.'

"I wouldn't if it wasn't for you." He confesses a few minutes later as he pulls your coat from your shoulders and throws his fur (an all black mink) overtop and hands it to the gentleman at the coat check. He likes the image of your things together. They just make sense.

"Well thank you. It couldn't have been easy fighting with your pride for my sake." You tease lightly.

Hardly, he scoffs. Then softer, he says "it was as easy as breathing."

You feel your cheeks warm.

"We should get to our seats." Divus adds, his tone its normal controlled baritone but when you peek at him, you can see the bright blush on his cheeks as he adjusts his tie, almost as if he too were taken aback by his candor just moments before.

In that moment you decide they were wrong. All of them about Divus. He was as caring, thoughtful and kind as the best of them.

And in that moment Divus decides he was very very wrong about platitudes, cliches and admittedly, wrong about Valentine's day. They all certainly have a time and a place when he's with you.