#the things you made. it is really interesting

[wrotebymii]

MAYBE ITS ME? … | Date Everything x gn!reader

Summary: After leaving your house because you can’t handle being hated in your very own home, Sam talks with you while your house becomes quiet…

Warning: minimal angst, honestly it’s a little fluffy with you and Sam. The objects are miserable now. There will be a part three and four!!

PART ONE | MASTERLIST | READ ME

Sam has been the most understanding friend what felt like your only friend she tries her hardest to bring you out of your slump and rationalize while simultaneously making fun of you as to why your relationships within your home have a burning hate for you.

She’s pointing fun yet logical, allowing you to rant about what you did and where you possibly went wrong with each. She sat across from you, leaned forward with her elbows on her knees in full concentration. You were sat back practically melting into the furniture that didn’t despise you, moving a hand around to exaggerate your speech with the other stuffing your face with food like you haven’t eaten in weeks. Lowkey, you haven’t.

“When I talked to Hoove, being nice and supportive while telling him not to work too hard—I thought I was being sweet ya’know—“ You stuff your face and swallow.

“—but apparently NOT?? He got angry with me, when I tried backtracking and apologize which crazy by the way he said he HATED ME?!” You shout, you can feel your face heat in anger at the thought before tears well up.

“Or how I tried to speak with Daisuke—“

“Who’s that one?”

“Oh my tableware, he’s like tall about yay-high with black hair a portion of it in a bun with like dishware themed robes…I heard from others in rhe kitchen that he’s into taking things seriously” You explain with a wave of the hand.

“I actually…heh I thought that we’d get along, he likes taking care of the dishes and even tries to fix them if they crack due to me but that’s not the point I too like fixing things, I want to fix things…but I guess unlike him or fake it till you make it like Tony…I just make it worse…”

“I…I just wanted to be friends or the I don’t know? Date? The whole reason of the damn glasses.” You mutter, you push the snacks away and use a napkin to clean yourself.

Dating them, any of them wasn’t the main goal. Sure it’s interesting but realizing the things around your home have their own lives in the house was so cool!

Being a hermit, a homebody it felt like a this was a way to help you as well, to get better with being social and maybe let you learn that the outside wasn’t so scary and not everything was out to get you.

But, you messed it up—perhaps you tried too hard, pushed too much, didn’t push enough, didn’t flirt when needed to, too flirty for some, or didn’t have enough specs for the correct dialogue and it came out lame. Now, you’re both miserable in the house and out of it.

Sam was trying, really was. As you spoke she’d occasionally glance around her apartment as if the ranting was making her paranoid about her house. Sighing she runs her hand down her face. She should’ve said something about the weird black stuff in that bathroom, maybe it was the fumes getting to you, but she shook her head.

“What else happened?…”

“The breaking point?”

“Yeah, what made you take off the glasses?”She asks, you groan, slumping back and wiping away a few stray tears as you remembered.

“I was going to the Breaker Box Club, ‘cause Eddie and Volt were still nice-ish from our previous conversations—I hadn’t talked to them in a bit by then cause I was trying to salvage whatever was going on between Harper the hamper and Dirk dirty clothes. I wanted to catch up and help Eddie with some of his work like last time.” You shift in your seat uncomfortably.

“When I entered it was packed, I was happy for them that their business was getting bigger but I knew it was gonna be a lot to take on so I went to find one of them to offer help…”

“…you try and help a lot…”

“I do, it’s…the only thing I can give to them—“ you stop yourself, continuing the story of the night prior.

“But, I knew I wasn’t welcomed. Everyone avoided me, whispering around like I was back in school. Again, Volt saw me. I remember waving at him as he walked over way too quickly. We talked as he pushed me along the way I came from, when I noticed I was confused and…worried I lost another person again…” You take in a deep breath.

“I did…the gossip around the club didn’t go unnoticed by the owners he wanted to get rid of me so it didn’t disturb the customers. I tried talking to him saying that I wasn’t a bad…person…” You don’t sound convinced yourself by that statement.

“He wasn’t having it, his…skin almost turned this light blue? His hand gripped my arm to drag my away from the prying eyes, it hurt…not to make him anymore mad I let him, throw me out…” Voice trailing off, Sam looks stunned, like this was the most juiciest soap opera ever.

“You got kicked out of your own break box—“

“YES, I GOT KICK OUT” you yelled but not at Sam, yelling at the absurd thought of being thrown out of your own break box.

“Crazy…” She elongates the ‘zy’ in the word, unsure how to handle the rest of this.

“Do you think there’s a way to start over with them? All of them I mean?”

The sun was setting, making the silence seem light and comforting. You’re tired, and don’t know where to tread next, so many ideas run in your mind that you—wait…

There might be a very dubious way to get your life back to normal. The thought felt terrible, too personal and guilty, but you don’t seem to have any other option. At least not right now. So, you’ll pin the idea with Keith in the back of your mind. And let it fester or wilt as you and Sam brainstorm together.

Back at the house.

The ones that cheered for your leave are quiet, basking in the dullness of the house. Sure they can talk to one another but…that’s uneventful. The house is missing apart of itself the part of you. The human part. The fragile, unpredictable, unproductive, and lonely ways of you has gone missed.

But everyone refuses to say it out loud. They’re all still bitter and angry with how you treated them—wait…why exactly are they all mad? Some can’t remember but feel justified, although, looking back they just remember you trying. No.

No. You hurt them. They think…

…

…

Okay—well they aren’t sure…not anymore.

The lights are off because there’s no need to see, the sinks and baths don’t run because there’s no one to draw it for, the wall creaks and settles sadly, coffee pot remains unused along with the beauty products, television, books, sofa, stove—all of it. All of them are…completely bored?

Maybe, making your life inconvenienced and almost down right harassed in your day to day life after you stopped interacting with them wasn’t the right way to express their anger. A day turned to four then a week then two weeks.

Dorian can feel the worry in every room about when you’ll return, he huffs. Bedroom Dorian stands still, looking up at the ceiling then down to the floor, watching Florence quickly scramble around her time book with all the new complaints and meetings for Celia.

He reluctantly…steps forward. Away from his position to stand right in front of the poor woman. He rather be doing his job, the thing he thinks so highly of. However, he too is miserable more miserable than laundry room closet Dorian because what is his purpose now that the one who he open and closes for…is gone?

But he’s convinced himself that speaking with Celia will help.

Or so he hopes.

Taglist:

@hhhhthththrd

@diablosinners

@4rt3m1y

@stargazer0x0

@apearlyheart

@airyravenmaid

@writing-munchies

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@trixie541

@redjeanjacket

@xxxshadowl0rd420xxx

@animeweeb99

[zephyrchama]

You rubbed your eyes. You were seeing things. Strange, sparkly things floating in the air around Solomon. They appeared to radiate out of him, causing you to stare and making his surroundings look dull in comparison.

He was just sorting books, leafing through them one at a time before placing them in one of five piles. The books were not dazzling. In fact, they were rather dusty and some were starting to fall apart. None of them had the same strange shimmer as Solomon. He practically had his own personal limelight. Your eyes narrowed. The rays didn't seem physical, perhaps it was a trick of the candlelight.

Solomon noticed the staring. The corners of his mouth turned up into a bemused smile. "See something you like?"

"Did you... do something?" you asked. It was hard to put into words exactly what was wrong.

The walking glowstick only grinned more. "You mean, with my hair or clothes?" He ran a hand through his hair, ruffling the side above his ear. A tiny wave of starlight flowed out like a swarm of fireflies and dissipated into the surrounding air. "I did try some new soap that Simeon recommended the other day. Funny enough, it markets itself as 'soap scented.'"

He was being way too casual about this.

"That's not it. Something is different." You shut your eyes really hard, then opened and closed them in rapid succession. The weird lights were still there, and still only on Solomon.

"Did you enchant yourself?" you blurted out in accusation.

"Is that what it looks like?" The sorcerer looked highly amused. It made the radiant glitter shine brighter in contrast to his seasoned old books.

"Yeah. You're all sparkly. You look like the love interest in a shoujo manga." When you closed your eyes, you could still see Solomon's afterimage.

"Is that how you see me? Well, I'm flattered."

You knew Solomon, and you knew him well. If this wasn't planned, he'd take it more seriously. He'd ask questions, diagnose your vision, and check himself over for charms or curses at the very least. He'd probe for information. He'd express more than a vague entertainment over the issue.

You pooled your magic and, to the best of your ability, dispelled whatever Solomon had going on. It was a trick he'd taught you months ago that you only used once in a blue moon, but it worked. A little gust of power crossed the room from you to him. The glitzy sparkles faded away and Solomon stopped glowing.

"I knew it!" you shouted, pointing your finger at your mentor. "You did enchant yourself!"

"Well, I always want to look my best in front of you." Solomon was chuckling as the last of his magical effect evaporated. "What do you think, did it work?"

With silver-gray hair that sparkled like stars in the right light and a bright glossy cloak that looked like the universe, Solomon was plenty eye-catching on a normal day. He didn't need more. You frankly stated, "You looked like a human disco ball."

[lomlando]

Oh!

summary: When Kimi asks his teammate an innocent question, secrets are revealed

content warnings: mild language :)!

word count: 1 k

pairing: lando norris x fem!driver!reader

SERIES: Messy || may be confusing if read as a standalone one shot!

You quickly stripped down to your sports bra and boy shorts and swung one leg over into the small ice bath waiting for you. The quicker you were in, the quicker you were out was your mentality. Kimi stood, grabbing the edge of the bath beside you, mentally preparing himself for the ice-cold. You sank to your shoulders, feeling the cold make your muscles tense up. You understood why an ice bath was beneficial, but man, did you hate it. 

“You know the faster you get in, the faster we can get out, right?” You say, staring at Kimi who had not moved. Two months ago, you both agreed that you would stay in there together as long as the other one did to keep each other company. To maybe make the time go by faster, since you both hated them.  

“So, who did you have the other day with 20 questions? George? Max? Lance?” Kimi says, wincing as the cold water finally hits his legs. “I had Franco, super nice guy actually.” 

“Lando.” As you said it, Kimi’s body hit the water so fast it made a splash. Like the word had genuinely made him fall back from being so surprised. “Dude, did you just slip?” 

“Yeah, yeah. Sorry about that. So you had Lando?” You could hear the change in his voice; he genuinely was surprised you were paired with Lando, but why? 

“Yeah, he was pretty nice actually. I hoped he was, you have always talked so highly of him it would have sucked ass if he was rude.” You say, looking over to Kimi, who was now looking at you in what looks like absolute horror. 

“Oh.” He says, snapping his head away from you. Suddenly, the wall in front of both of you was the most interesting thing in the room in his mind. 

That Oh. It was not a “Oh!” like ‘Oh, I’m so glad you finally were able to meet him!’ or ‘Oh! How did it go?!’ No, this oh was sinister. Like the “Oh” you say when you realize you sent a text to the person you were talking about, or the “Oh” when you realize you have been calling a person the wrong name for three weeks. Not a good oh by any means. 

“Why did you say oh like that?” 

“What do you mean?” Kimi finally shoots his head back over to you. He knows he’s caught. Even in the 20-degree water, he is still practically sweating. “I meant like ‘OH!” He changed his inflection completely. You can see right through it, though. “You know I love Lando, I’m glad you finally got to meet him.” Kimi begins to stand up. “I think I’m done for the day, I can’t take it anymore. I’m going to get changed.” 

Before you can even protest about how short the stint was, Kimi is already out the door. 

By the time Kimi comes back into the room ten minutes later, you are still sitting in the tub, still confused by the ‘oh’. 

“Oh,” Kimi says as he lets out an awkward laugh, “I thought you would be changing by now, too.” 

Before you could even really think, you leap out of the small tub and lunge towards the door. You had to know what Kimi meant earlier. 

“What the fuck, are you really blocking me in here?” 

You were a sight to see, you were sure of it. Soaking wet, standing in a growing puddle, arms and legs sprawled out in front of the large door as if you were a starfish protecting their sand. 

“You aren’t leaving this room until you tell me what you meant by that, 'oh, ' Antonelli. We promised each other no secrets.” 

Kimi puts his arms up in defeat. “Listen, not everyone has to like you. You’re gonna have to learn that. Especially being in this sport. You know I still remember…” 

As Kimi was rambling about what you, assume, to be a hate train he remembers his rookie year, he hadn’t even noticed you drop your arms and legs back to normal. What did he mean by that? As far as you were concerned, Lando and you had a fine time filming together. You hadn’t ever laughed for that long in your life, much less that hard as that day. 

“What do you mean by that?” Now, a lot more reserved, almost hoping Kimi would refuse to answer. 

“Okay, look, full story. I was talking to Lando the other day and asked who he was paired with. He said a rookie, then told me he didn’t care for them. I really thought he was talking about one of the other two, or I would have defended you. For what it's worth, I think you’re great.” Kimi says moving past you out the door. “Look, don't let it get you down. Take him down next week on the track.” He yelled back down the hallway, walking backwards towards the exit.

Kimi was right, next week all 20 of us would be in Monaco for the opening weekend, nothing else should matter. You should be focused only on racing. 

But the only thing on your mind that you could get out was, “oh.”

[jellyfishline]

Sorry for adding unsolicited advice, but one of the most valuable things I've learned as a writer is how to push over this kind of block! So I'm gonna share a few strategies that have helped me, and might help other people too!

Strategy one: skip over it.

Literally don't write a transition. Just skip to the next interesting scene. Promise yourself you'll go back and write a smooth transition later. A shocking amount of the time when I come back to edit I find that I don't even need more of a transition at all. Sometimes, your brain is so stuck in the story that it doesn't want to leave any negative space, but the negative space of a new scene, a new chapter, or a new paragraph is what the story craves.

Strategy two: just describe it.

Don't try to write it nicely, prettily, or well. Write like you're making an instruction manual, or notes for an actor in a screenplay. Write "and then they walked into the room." Write "and the conversation was over." Write "the next day, [blank] happened." Again, a shocking amount of the time for me, writing it in plain language turns out to be what the story needed. And if it does need more detail, you can always add that detail later! It is so much easier to add frills once you've got the bedrock of a scene in place.

Strategy three: just dialogue.

Idk how often this happens to other people, but I often get tripped up trying to juggle dialogue, actions, body language, and internal monologue when writing. When that happens, I switch to writing just the dialogue in short exchanges, no dialogue tags or description, with only paragraph breaks and punctuation to structure it. This both frees me up from the paralysis of trying to write everything at once, and has the added benefit of really honing in on character voices. I love to try to give all my major characters a distinctive enough voice that you can work out who's talking by the cadence of their speech, even without dialogue tags.

Strategy four: outline it.

This is sort of an expanded version of strategy two. If you're really struggling, or if this transition is something you know is going to take a whole scene or a whole chapter and more than just a line or two of description, pause to write out the events in a short, descriptive, beat-by-beat way. "They talked. They argued. No one listened to each other. They all went to bed frustrated." Sometimes this beat-by-beat plotting will transform into something you can really use--fragments of dialogue, a solid description, a realization that you can restructure so an important piece of information doesn't actually have to go here--but if not you still have a workable framework to either propel you into the next scene or start building up into a meatier bit of prose.

Strategy five: just do it.

Putting this strategy at the end because while I think it’s a lot of writers' first instincts when coming up to a roadblock, I also think the inability to force ourselves through the boring miserable bits of writing and "just do it" is a major reason why projects get abandoned. Sometimes, you might find yourself in a position where you really do just have to write your way out of the problem you've made for yourself. In those cases, I think it’s a good idea to take a deep breath, be generous with yourself, and applaud yourself for showing up, even if you're only writing a sentence or two every day. Writing is hard! Even professionals have bad days. You don't have to burn yourself out putting words on a page. Take the pressure to perform off yourself, and just write what you can. Eventually you'll get past it, and the words will flow again.

writing is so funny because i could write nonstop for 9hrs and then hit a block where im like "how do i transition between this moment and the next?" and then i just dont touch it for 6 months

[sei-rq]

hi req incoming!?:) (chars I had in mind; Sae, Rin, Shidou) with a fem reader. Maybe 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂 drabbles if you do that sorta thing if not that’s cool! (I’m VERY curious to see this with Sae if you wanna just do one)

Reader working as an intern or something for character’s team. Reader finds herself alone with them and ends up arguing, which is odd since readers usually sweet but the character pushed their buttons. After the character insults reader in the argument reader slaps them then feels bad. How would they react??

I genuinely do not have the source of this sudden slapping obsession but someone said Sae’s head would snap to the side and this usual stone faced man would give you the most devious smirk because he’s actually a freak in disguise.

YOU LIKE YOUR GIRLS INSANE !?

a/n: absolutely adore this req, honestly now that you mention it, i'd go insane for feral sae !! and holy fuck, I definitely think reo would get turned the fuck on if he got slapped, please tell me you get my vision.

ft: itoshi sae, itoshi rin, shidou ryusei, mikage reo, kaiser michael.

itoshi sae:

he's too into it.

WAY too into it, it literally happened because he was being difficult as usual, there's nothing new to it with sae.

but he has been pushing your buttons for as long as you've worked under him.

god knows what he had said way too bluntly this time around to piss you off, you don't remember

however this time, rather than that fake understanding and kind smile that you normally show to people to deal with situations quicker, was no where in sight, because you were alone with him.

you couldn't give less of a fuck anymore, not after what he said—

"i'm starting to think you took on this job because you're a people pleaser and you like the male validation from the team members, such a push-over."

a loud 'CLAP' could be heard in the empty room, the silence that followed after was deafening.

oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god.

and before you can apologise and beg to whatever god is up there to not lose your job, there is a 'pftt' sound coming from the man that still has his faced pushed down, from both the slap and for the dramatic effect.

before it's a full on chuckle filling the room.

"guess you aren't a push-over after all."

and he gives you the most DEVIOUS smirk before saying "hope you know what this means for you, cariño."

itoshi rin:

"can you just shut up? you're being annoying." rin huffs as he sees you go over the interview questions for the nth time for the team.

and normally you'd ignore rin's cold remarks and you're trying your best to do it right now too

but fucking hell, he's breathing down your neck like he's judging your entire existence.

"can you stop looking at me like I escaped the psych ward, please?'

he blinks "hard not to, because you did describe yourself pretty accurately."

you didn't mean to, your hand moved before you could think, it was supposed to push him back, you were supposed to hit his shoulder out of pure frustration.

you didn't realise he was leaning down to your level.

SMACK!

and oof.

you're terrified for your job and your life as you immediately make sure that he's okay, but he looks up with dazed eyes, wide enough to look like an owl.

and he looks down at you like you just completely rebooted his system.

"you're going to regret that."

yeah so, you assumed as much, but not like THIS.

safe to say, he was late for the interview, there was a mysterious bandage on his cheek and his hair was uncharacteristically messy.

shidou ryusei:

ryusei is an absolute menace, everyone knows that.

and it's not that he made you upset, or said something to make you mad, you both were alone together as you were working on some important documents.

safe to say, you really shouldn't be doing serious things anywhere around this absolute gremlin of a man.

honest mistake on your part.

"oh that looks interesting, lemme see!" the paper is snatched from your hands and..

RIPPP!

yeah, he fucked up big time.

and you're normally so composed and ryusei doesn't expect anything more than a sigh and complains leaving your mouth.

SLAP!

he made a mistake.

but he doesn't regret it, he'll rip apart twenty more documents if he gets to experience you crash out like that again.

"shidou, i'm so sor-"

'oh nonono, why don't you make sure you mean that and repay me in another way?" and he has the most mischievous look on his face.

mikage reo:

reo never gives you any trouble.

he's the last person on earth to bother someone without reason.

and he's the one you get along most with because of how sweet and kind he is.

even if it's performative.

he's nice.

but right now, he's being anything but cooperative.

his friend and teammate, he has an unhealthy obsession with has been locked off, reo is crashing out.

he isn't listening and he has skipped out on important events and interviews.

being the team's manager, you were asked to deal with it.

you really tried. words just didn't seem to reach him in that moment.

"mikage, listen–"

"you wouldn't understand, you're doing nothing but pretending to be nice–" okay, hypocrite much.

SMACKK!

and he's so dramatic, head turned to the side, eyes wide, hand holding his cheek like he can't believe you.

he probably hasn't ever been slapped in his entire life, let alone been touched like that, he's the heir to mikage corporation for fuck's sake.

maybe it's the light headedness or him finally losing his mind, he can feel all his pent up stress going straight to his dick.

well.

why don't you take responsibility for messing up a face that's worth 705.8 billion yen?

kaiser michael:

so unhelpful.

literally the most unhelpful person alive, he's been buzzing in your ear like an annoying mosquito for the past hour.

usually you would not care, just nodding along with a polite smile.

today he's being extra bitchy, something about isagi.

and you literally want to tell him that you don't give two fucks about what isagi did or how kaiser is feeling about the situation.

"and he–"

"kaiser, i'm busy."

"doing what? you literally get paid to work with us and deal with us, don't tell me that you're so unprofessional and useless that you can't even–"

CLAP!

head swung towards his right, eyes blown wide.

"you didn't just! oh fuck you did!"

and he's malfunctioning.

hot, hot, hot.

he can't believe that's what got him going, why don't you help him take care of it?

after all, it's your fault.

[thatonegrimm]

The Manager’s Guide to Demon Boybands: A Witch’s Oath

Witchcraft in the Waiting Room

Prologue/Chapter 1/Chapter2

The conference room was every shade of uninspired: beige walls, buzzing lights, and the faint scent of instant ramen lingering like a ghost that never left. The table, scratched and water-stained, was just large enough to seat the five demons pretending to be a rookie idol group.

They were waiting. Restless.

Jinu sat at the head of the table, posture perfect, fake reading glasses perched on his nose. He tapped a pen against the table in a rhythm that matched neither time nor beat.

Abby lounged next to him, arms crossed to subtly flex against the tight sleeves of his shirt. He offered a friendly smile to no one in particular and watched the clock tick.

Mystery leaned back in his chair, the edge of a company memo torn between his teeth. His dark eyes flicked toward the lights overhead, as if trying to understand their existence by glaring at them.

Romance looked painfully at home, reclined like he was posing for a solo teaser poster. One leg crossed. Shirt half unbuttoned.

And Baby? Baby had three open energy drinks in front of him, his foot bouncing like a jackhammer.

They were told their new manager would arrive at 2 p.m.

It was 2:04.

"Maybe they forgot," Jinu muttered.

"Maybe we manage ourselves now," Romance said with a smirk. "Democratic. Sexy."

"Do we really need a manager?" Baby asked, already halfway through his second drink. "We’ve got charisma."

"We have no schedule, no staff, and no clue what we’re doing," Jinu shot back. "We absolutely need a manager."

"What if she’s old?" Baby asked. "Like ancient-old. Or smells like mothballs."

"What if she’s hot?" Romance countered.

"What if she eats us?" Mystery added quietly. It was hard to tell if he was joking.

The door opened.

They fell silent.

The new manager stepped into the room, closing the door behind her without a sound. She carried a clipboard, a black coffee, and an air of unimpressed efficiency.

Her eyes swept over them, measured but not wide. Not startled. She set her drink down calmly, adjusted her blazer, and spoke with the kind of confidence that made even demons listen.

"Good afternoon. I’m your new manager. You must be the Saja Boys."

A beat passed.

Five demons blinked at her.

Romance was the first to recover. He sat up, flashing a slow, practiced smile. "You're not what I expected."

She tilted her head. "Neither are you."

That earned a flicker of interest from Mystery.

Jinu cleared his throat, standing up just enough to bow politely. "Thank you for coming. We’re looking forward to working with you."

"I’m sure you are," she said. Flipping a page on her clipboard. "We’ll be discussing your upcoming showcase schedule shortly. But first, I’d like to set a few ground rules."

The boys sat straighter.

"Number one," she continued, her tone calm but crisp. "No skipping rehearsals. No exceptions. Number two, personal drama stays personal, I don’t want to anything about it on the news. Number three, if you’re going to experiment with... eccentric looks, make sure they’re not flammable."

A pause.

"And number four respect the staff. Even if you think you could do their job better." She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. "That goes for me, too."

They were quiet again.

She hadn't said anything strange. Nothing out of place. But something in the way she watched them, steady, calm, and wholly unafraid rubbed against instinct.

Mystery tilted his head slightly. Baby stared at her like she was a math problem he couldn’t solve. Romance looked intrigued. Abby smiled, as always, but this time with more interest than politeness.

And Jinu… Jinu watched her like he was trying to find the string beneath her surface.

But you didn’t give them time to pull at it.

"Now," she said, gathering her things, "you have ten minutes to get dressed for practice. I’ll meet you in the studio."

She turned on her heel and left the room.

They didn’t follow right away.

Not because they were suspicious.

But because something about her energy, tightly coiled, quiet, patient made them feel like they had already been sized up, cataloged, and filed away.

And somehow, that was worse than being underestimated.

(Flashback: One Week Earlier – Your POV)

The city hummed with energy. Seoul always did. But lately, there was a flicker beneath the noise  like static in the ley lines. Something was coming.

You had felt it before you saw it.

The prophecy had been buried in her grimoire, untouched for a century:

"Five fires shall walk the city.Under glamour, under guise.If the last witch sees them first,They will live.If others find them—Burn."

You found them by accident. Or maybe fate.

A rehearsal studio. Music shaking the walls. Bodies moving with more power than choreography should allow.

When she saw them; five boys laughing, sweating, radiating energy like a warning, she knew. Not what they were exactly. But that they were hers to protect.

Not to control.

To watch. To guide.

To save, if it came to that.

(End of Flashback)

They followed her to the studio in silence.

Romance didn’t flirt. Not yet. Not until the elevator dinged and the spell of that first meeting cracked.

"She’s definitely not a rookie manager," he whispered.

"She didn’t flinch," Abby said thoughtfully.

"She didn’t ask questions," Jinu muttered.

"Maybe she’s just chill?" Baby offered.

Mystery didn’t speak.

But when she opened the studio door and waved them in like she had all the time in the world something in him settled.

This wasn’t going to be easy.

But for the first time in a long time, it wasn’t going to be boring either.

[sacrificiallane]

﹙ 𝒮tealing girlfriends 𓂃 PERCY JACKSON

about mortal!reader finally meets Anni ♡ & Percy gets huffy

When Annabeth had asked him to finally meet you ― after a whole summer of him mentioning your name at any given situation ... ( which went a little something like : 'reader loves this color!' and 'reader would say...' and not to forget 'if reader were here...' ) ― Percy was yet not terrified. However, Percy did become terrified when Leo Valdez ( out of nowhere !!) mentioned to never ever have your girlfriend meet your best girl friend.

When the son of Poseidon had cluelessly asked 'why', he was almost in for a smacking! Because how could he not know why.

Obviously ― or so Leo Valdez explained ― you ( his sweet mortal girl ) would mistake Annabeth ( his witty best friend ) as someone to look out for! And ... maybe his description frightened Percy just a little bit ... not that he would ever admit it! No, he had just rolled his eyes at the dramatics, and ― in clear spite of Leo's 'warning' ― promised Annabeth to speak to you and arrange something.

And now ... well, now he just felt like an idiot for worrying about you at all! In fact, he should've been worried about other things instead. Like... loosing his girlfriend to his best friend !! (He was really just being dramatic ...)

Giggles were filling the surrounding air, and Percy watched with a large frown when Annabeth laughed at the cute little noises. Your cute little noises! His mood only dampened when the blonde reached for your hand again, tugging you along like you've known each other for a lifetime! It was maddening to the demigod, and he grumbled to himself. Who would've even guessed that a mortal girl ― his mortal girl! ― would fall so easily into a routine with ... Annabeth Chase! Not him, to be honest.

He's already seen you timid, quiet ... maybe even a little uncomfortable. I mean, Annabeth could be a lot! Especially when she nerded out. Percy had even warned you in advance that Anni liked to talk a lot. About structures, and anything Greek, and that it was totally okay if you didn't like anything like that! But now, it almost felt silly..., because you were doing great! Amazing even. Much better than himself ...

"Can i please have my girlfriend back ?" His tone was pouty ... and so unlike him! Percy hardly ever got jealous, ever! Because... well, you never even looked at anyone but him. But, here you were, seemingly having more fun with his best friend, than himself! The son of Poseidon was just trailing behind you both at this point, feeling like he was the third wheel (He was just being dramatic again)

The blonde girl only rolled her eyes, fingers laced with yours as she tugged a still laughing you along by your hand. "You have her all the time."

Percy gasped in offense! Eyes only narrowing further when you didn't seem the slightest concerned about so clearly abandoning him. In fact, you looked like you were having the time of your life! He pouted again. "Well, duh! She's my girlfriend. Get your own !" He knew it was very unreasonable to get jealous! But he even said please :( His hand already felt cold... his heart yearned for you !!

"You can hold my other hand, Percy," You were all smiley, left-hand making grabbing motions at him when Annabeth further dragged you down another hall of the museum. Half of the time you didn't even know what she was saying ... but you listened with a smile, genuinely interested in what she had to say, and maybe that's just why his best friend already felt so utterly comfortable with you. (Not that he really, truthfully minded any of this. Anni seemed so happy here ... getting to play normal girl with normal friends)

Before he could even attempt to reach for your outstretched hand, Annabeth made a little detour, squealing in delight at something and practically yanking you with her. Percy only groaned, reluctantly following the both of you down the hall.

Annabeth couldn't get into detail about ... a lot of things, actually (which he knew she hated!) You weren't yet aware of his, uh ... 'other life'. As far as your knowledge went, Percy Jackson went to summer camp every other summer, and that's how he met Annabeth. Both hated using phones ..., which, fair enough, you didn't really question. You thought she was quite smart, and Percy easily agreed (making Anni avert her gaze with a slight embarrassed blush spreading over her face).

You weren't dumb, either, and Percy knew that ... at least a little later, you must've noticed 'strange' things. Like, Annabeth easily reading off a Greek pamphlet, or making fun of 'inaccurate' paintings of the gods. But if you did notice, you didn't comment on it. And so the day slowly came to an end...

Annabeth promised to visit you next time. She even gave you her phone number, saying she would make an 'exception' and definitely reach out to you. You hugged each other and only let go when your boyfriend practically pulled you two apart, huffing about finally getting some much-needed attention now that you were going home. (Jokes aside, Percy was so glad that his best friend got along well with his girlfriend. He wasn't sure what would've happened if you didn't stand each other...)

During the bus ride home, he didn't let go of your hand ♡ Not even when you made it through his door and ended your day comfortably spooning underneath his blanket. At your question why Annabeth seemed so invested in Greek Mythology, Percy merely shrugged. Your fingers drew patterns against his arm, and he only squeezed you tighter. He knew that some day he would have to tell you about this crazy life of his ... but for now, he'd be content with just holding you.

𓂃 🖊 more .

[transmutationisms]

ok off the last ask are there any tv shows you Do think are good or does the position of tv is bad kind of hold universally?

imo the reasons tv is on average bad are largely to do with production and not actually just coincidental

-because a tv show generates more profit the longer it runs, networks & showrunners are perversely incentivised to Make Stuff Happen & also to fail to deal with the narrative consequences of that stuff (nobody wants to watch 10 seasons of a show where the personal dysfunctions that the story is premised on are overcome and dealt with and the characters just calm down by season 3)

-advertisers have typically/traditionally gotten a large degree of control over the actual content onscreen (this is a pressure in any creative work made for profit -- but, eg, it's not unusual for tv advertisers and esp product-placers to get final review of actual scripts, to threaten to pull ads if a show discusses xyz or gets 'too political', &c)

-for numerous contingent reasons including some reaction to the above, tv has not typically been seen as a prestigious creative industry (even in the 'golden age', compare the reputation of tv to that of the cinéma or stage theatre), leading to a lot of writers and directors who don't really want to be there, are embarrassed, view their tv work as the pitch to launch their film or novelist career, &c &c

-all of this exerts downward pressure on the compensation rates for pretty much everyone who works on tv, from actors to crew members, which makes the industry less appealing and less prestigious and is used to justify even worse and cheaper labour practices &c &c -- meaning a lot of tv work goes to people who don't want to be there, couldn't qualify for better compensated roles, are mainly cast for being conventionally attractive, &c

i've watched and enjoyed plenty of tv and it's not like it's impossible to execute something well artistically even in these circumstances. for example, i think succession has some really stellar character writing, & that this is directly connected to the fact it had hbo money & a showrunner who always planned for it to have an endpoint & a limited number of seasons—but it's also connected to the fact that the story is framed around characters being constitutionally incapable of major change. for similar reasons, a miniseries or anthology series is imo usually a better format for a drama than the conventional constantly-renewed network series. alternatively you can go the seinfeld route and have your show genuinely be about trivia, with a hard reset every episode (like, compare how long seinfeld could keep beating the same three dead horses versus eg the immediate problems faced by a show like the good place where characters were supposed to be enduring meaningful personal growth incompatible with their roles in the actual narrative).

but imo very few people who work on tv are interested in thinking about what the medium can do well, because again they view themselves more as temporarily embarrassed artistes, and even those who do view television as its own medium with its own constraints and strengths are often kneecapped by the actual circumstances of production (like, a mini-room may well be full of really talented writers who want to do fascinating things with the medium -- i wouldn't know, because they get approximately 30 seconds per episode to throw shit at the wall that some exec can market to a cereal company).

i've liked plenty of shows enough to watch more than 5 minutes of them (succession, lots of medical soaps, the first 2 seasons of misfits, doctor who, thw twilight zone, parts of mad men, the thick of it, mr robot, community, i may destroy you, pushing daisies...) & i think it's fair to say if i liked something i probably thought some aspect of it was good, meaning, well executed in some way. but i would also say pretty much all of those are dogshit in other respects, are overall susceptible to the same problems tv in general is, &c.

[gingerteawrites]

HEADCANONS: JJK MEN WITH A SUPER SMART PARTNER

A/N: Had this thought while watching a random Youtube video so let's all dive down my silly little thoughts. I don't write in this kind of format often, so do let me know if you like it.

Content: Nanami x reader, Gojo x reader, Geto x reader, headcannons, gender neutral.

NANAMI KENTO

I know there's a lot of Nanami x bimbo-ish reader content out there. And while it definitely makes for some delicious delulu fuel, I am so convinced that Kento would prefer to be with someone who at least somewhat challenges him intellectually.

I can just picture it: The first time he heard you passionately go on about a deeply philosophical concept, or that one time you broke down a really hard topic you're super knowledgeable about, he felt his heart skip a beat.

If your area of expertise is not something he's familiar with, he'll find himself researching bits and pieces during his work breaks and then bring them up to you in conversation.

Of course, this absolutely delights you, and he can't decide if he prefers the twinkle in your eyes when you get lost in conversation, or the curve of your lips when they're pulled into a serious frown while you ponder his words.

Nanami, in my opinion, is also a huge "my partner" kind of guy, but in an amazing way. All of his co-workers that know him a bit know two things.

One, he's in a committed relationship. And two, his partner is super smart.

He doesn't even try to bring you up to people, the words just slip out and he finds himself making a comment along the lines of:

"My partner studied this in university, they're so knowledgeable about the field." or "I do not understand much of the topic, but I can ask my partner and get back to you later."

He cherishes your intelligence as in integral part of who you are, and is always rooting for you throughout all of your intellectual endeavors.

GOJO SATORU

Nothing anyone tells me will change my mind. At his core, Satoru is just a happy idiot that's kind of surprised he managed to bag you.

I know it might seem suprising, given that he practically has the confidence of a bigoted white man who thinks he's smart because he makes controversial political opinions (even though we all know our blue-eyed king would never be a bigot).

But trust me, sometimes he sees you locked in your own little world, musing on about some profound topics and he wonders how you even found him interesting at all.

All that to say he thinks you being smart is the best thing ever, and has 100% made comments about your sexy brain before.

As a natural consequence of this, Gojo uses you as his living encyclopedia, even if the questions he has are wildly out of your domain of expertise.

"Say, ____, exactly how much straw would it take to break a camel's back?"

"How much sugar can I eat before risking going into a coma?"

You might think that he's really just trying to mess with you, but no. Satoru genuinely thinks you're the smartest cookie on the planet and you know the answer to everything.

"I mean, shouldn't you be happy I'm asking you instead of that AI bullshit?" he says once, his head buried in your lap while you were reading a book. And you kind of have to concede. Maybe he was right.

I guess you just have to become the world's top expert in every field possible to become your boyfriend's very own AI assistant.

GETO SUGURU

In my opinion, Suguru is one of the smartest characters in the JJK verse. He's an expert in manipulation and has spent a lot of time diving into different philosophical thoughts and things like anthropology and sociology.

So of course, he would be delighted to have a partner who has a high intellect and with whom he can have deep conversations and theorize about life. He's probably huge on Eastern philosophy so after the first conversation you guys have about Buddhism and Shintoism, he's almost ready to go down on one knee.

On the other hand, I feel like if he had a partner who excelled in a more STEM aspect of things, he would be so very eager to listen to you and learn about your interests.

Whether it's sitting down and acting as an audience for when you practice presentations (and actually asking pretty thought-provoking questions), or inquiring about a concept that he knows you understand very well. Suguru will always try to match your energy with the things that you like.

I also feel like he'd be so into study dates, and generally be an amazing study buddy. The kind that brings all the good snacks to the session and keeps side conversations to only when both of your brains are starting to need a break. He would be the type of person you could sit in silence with for hours and both do your own thing, and then go get chocolate treats later because you read somewhere that it improves memory.

All to say he's completely enamored with you and you'd make one killer of an academic duo.

And that's all I have for you today, folks

Comments and reblogs are much appreciated (❁´◡`❁)

[wisteria-lodge]

I really do not want to discredit JKR, she created a fantastic world, with great ideas etc and I hate to be like "oh her success was just an accident!" especially to a woman. But that's what I feel about her getting praise for Snape. People say that the fact that there's so much debate about him now is a testament of JKR's writing skills, but on the contrary I think there is much debate about him now because she executed his character badly...or at least not in the level of genius I see her get praised for. I have always felt this way even before her views but I hate saying it now bc it'll come off as "revisionist" or something 😭 imo the fans have interpreted, analyzed, and broken down his character better.

JKR's success was absolutely not an accident. She dusted off and revitalized the dead School Story genre, she clicked things together in proportions that made a lot of sense, she's VERY good at marketing both herself and her work, she understands (and polices) brand identity and always has, she understands franchise potential, she made the *very* smart decision to age her series up along with her core fan base... but. This did create a few issues with the actual text.

There is a LOT of ambiguity in the Harry Potter series. Lines, scenes, entire characters (Snape is the poster boy, but not even close to the only one) that can legitimately be read in vastly different ways. And not Game of Thrones "oh this is a morally grey character in a complex situation." It's more like "you can interpret what is literally happening in this scene in about three different ways."

I see this ambiguity coming from two main sources, which are honestly kind of unique to the Harry Potter series.

The "Three Year Summer" Shift.

Books 1-3 are kids books, written like kids books, and Books 5-7 are young adult books, written like young adult books. It's not a new take that there are a lot of worldbuilding details and characterization choices that make perfect sense in a kid's book, but not if you're going for the added complexity and grounded tone of an adult book. Filtch is fine as a one-line joke comic villain, but if you're treating him as a fully realized person who actually exists in a more grounded sort of world - he becomes terrifying, tragic, and actually starts creating plotholes. It's like how Willy Wonka is whimsical in his own universe... but if you were to move him to one that's less stylized, now he's Julian Slowik from The Menu.

This leads to a backwards-compatibility situation where you're taking the "adult book" versions of the characters and trying to make them fit over the "children's book" character's actions. Often, the fit isn't super clean. So, you interpret these children's book scenes to make it fit - and you CAN, because children's book scenes are short, use simple vocab, and don't generally give you a *ton* of extra information. Why not interpret them with adult subtext? It's not contradicting anything. But it is essentially a version of that "open scene" acting class game where you get a scene that's like:

- What’s that? - My latest project. - It looks very interesting. - Well, I think so.

and then two actors run it though first straightforward, then sarcastic, then angry, then longing, etc.

2. Harry Potter is a mystery novel serial.

This is where a ton of the structure of the Harry Potter series comes from. Who opened the Chamber of Secrets? (we have suspects and clues) What is the monster? Who put Harry's name in the Goblet of Fire? (we have suspects and clues) How is Sirius Black getting into the castle? Who is the Halfblood Prince? Who is Snape loyal to? Like there are TONS of these questions (especially in the better books...)

And they make the books fun! They made speculating between the books a TON of fun. Buut.... suspects in a mystery story HAVE to be written ambiguously, or they're not very good suspects. The point is to have a scene that seems super suspicious on a first read but is actually completely innocent, and vice versa. So the scenes themselves fundamentally have to be written to support multiple meanings, in order to make the magic trick work. But the problem IS that in order to do that... you have to sacrifice cleanly articulated character development. There's a reason, in serial detective novels, that the detective goes to a new place and meets a new group of people every book. Ex-suspects have trouble going on to serve new functions in the plot, because who are they exactly? The point is that we don't know.

Lots of Harry Potter characters get hit by "suspect effect." In Book 3, Sirius Black is written to be a dangerous red herring (like why DID he slash the Fat Lady's portrait, in retrospect?) and in Book 4 he's this positive (but ultimately misguided) mentor whose function is to shift suspicion off of Moody and Barty Junior. So when we meet him in Book 5... and he no longer has a structural narrative role... who is he exactly? In a lot of ways, it's up to you the reader, and how you interpreted books 3 and 4.

Or Remus and Tonks. Their relationship is treated as a "mystery" in Book 5. So we get the reveal, but we don't get to see it develop. Because every time the relationship comes up, it needs to be discussed in a way that Harry can misunderstand. As a result, we don't get a good sense of what the dynamics of their relationship actually are.

And Snape... he's the red herring in Book 1, he's "up to something" in Book 3, a red herring again in Book 4, AGAIN in book 5 and 6. Which means. That is there is at least one alternate way to interpret pretty much every single thing that man says by design. So of course there are going to be multiple ways to interpret his motives. Snape the literary equivalent of the face/vase optical illusion... only you have Word of God saying "it's for sure a vase."

[panur]

super interesting tags from prev @itsrapsodia:

#i teach this to my students cause it's a really interesting phenomenon!#beyond what you may think of the expression what the effect says is that shots in a film are attributed meaning by the audience#depending on the context in which they are presented#which is also how you get a lot of symbolism! a shot of a deer being hunted in the woods is onky that#BUT juxtaposed with a scene of someone entering a shady deal then you in your mind asign new meaning to it#now if you cut between the deer and the character you're putting one in the position of the other#so like. yes what they said is true we as audiences ascribe meaning to things that may not *actually* be there. but also!#filmmakers are aware of this. and if you're juxtaposing 2 interactions between characters that originally didnt have Meaning#then you're sure establishing Meaning now. or else you wouldnt have edited them together#maybe it's not the same Meaning as the one the audience is reading into it but still it's a choice that was made during editing

every time someone says “look how they’re looking at each other! they’re in love!” about a non-canon ship i just think of the kuleshov effect for a second but then i come to my senses and decide to have fun

[boiledprawn99]

"Maybe some day, kid."

They're on top of that mountain by his hometown, at last.

Sort of dedicating this piece to my cat, Khoshekh, who recently passed away on the 30th of June. I know it's not entirely canon-compliant, but I want to make her the cat in the photo on Sebastian's coat to remember her always.

The setting is also inspired by the sunset we saw that evening on Monday. I like to think it was made in her honour.

This update came at a pretty extreme time, just a day after losing her. I was already full of emotions by the time I started playing it. The new content made me feel frustrated, upset, embarrassed (even though we all struggle to learn new things in video games...), but honestly? It just made me feel really happy.

I'm happy knowing that Sebastian and pAInter make it out together. It's not a fanfic, it's not vaguely implied in text; they escape. It's in the radio in Sebastian's shop. It's in their conversations together. It's in the hidden room in the Ridge where pAInter waits by the dock (he didn't move there by himself, Sebastian did that - he helped him, they helped each other). And they're free now.

How does this relate to my cat? I don't know lol.

Pressure is one of the biggest - if not the biggest - special interest I've ever had. Originally getting into it, pAInter was my favourite character. He's annoying, snarky, and a little shit, but he was hurting. A lot. He had depth and motive beyond just killing for the sake of it. I wanted more than anything an ending where he's saved. And now we've finally gotten it. A day after Khoshekh passed away. How silly it is to experience such a tragedy and then be comforted by Roblox npcs.

You can kill pAInter, too. But it's not "canon", at least not to the metanarritive or whatever. It'll never be the real ending. The real ending is one where they're both free, and alive.

And that makes me feel better.

[headcanon-everything]

Bodhi Windbreaker Romance Headcanons

I also have some nsfw headcanons, should I make them their own post?

loves when you play with his hair

will lay his head in your lap for HOURS (movie time) if you do

gets chest hair post-realization and gets all excited "Heyy now I look like Patrick Swingze! Bitchin'!"

had some before but was convinced to shave it off and it never grew back right rip

is always singing at you, silly little made up songs

yes even in public

makes the other objects giggle

social anxiety is afraid of him

prefers to keep his face with stubble; if you say you don't like it and want him to shave/grow it out they'll pour but do it for you

will try to convince you to get a mullet at least once mostly bc he's curious how it'll look

loves the beach

loves showing off at the beach too 👀

changes out the scrunchies on his wrist to your favourite colours, won't tell you but it's a little thing for him to keep you close

is a words guy but it always comes out more casual than intended unless he's blatantly flirting

tried to go to Mac and Telly to research how best to win you over with modern romance advice

kept getting conflicting info

then the other objects got wind of it and were trying to give their own advice

most of it was bad

so that's when rainey pulled him aside and asked what he wanted to do

and that's how the power ballad came about

won't realize when he's paying attention to other people, just gets so wrapped up in things when he's excited and has a bad sense of time

is super apologetic once you bring it up tho and is all over you to make it up

cuddle BUG they love cuddling

signs himself up for a queer theory & history course online at Mac's suggestion

came after a conversation of how he doesn't want to upset any of the "ligibitqua people" on accident because he doesn't know any better

wants to go to a pride festival!!!! take him please he'll get along with EVERYONE

LOVES drag. the big hair, the big makeup, the performances, it makes him a little nostalgic of the 80s tbh and he LOVES the energy

he'll leave with quite a few numbers, too (he's too polite to turn them down. you didn't even realize just how many he had until he emptied out his pockets later)

often laments how people seem way more closed off and stay inside now

like, it's considered rude now to strike up a conversation in the grocery store?? why is that? how else do you like, make new friends?

overall struggles with making friends a little bit when out in the world, until you help him get signed up for some community groups and meetups

loves to hear you talk about anything and everything tbh

loves sharing information and learning new things, plus loves hearing your voice

looks absolutely love-struck the whole time

he tries to be an active listener, but has a hard time not getting distracted by your face after a while, especially if it's a complicated topic that he doesn't really understand

the others do tease him and yes he does get embarrassed

loves talking about his interests too! esp stuff from the 80s

likes photography but he's not very good at it - he has a hard time staying still enough to get a clear photo

gets SO excited when he finds out film cameras are still fairly popular

is too impatient to wait for them to develop and always ruins it, so he ends up switching to a 2000s digital one

easing into the tech makes it easier and he likes how cool and innovative stuff from then is!

once he gets the camera set up, has a LOT of pictures of you - he's a nostalgic guy and likes to have keepsakes!!

you like music? you're "performing" with him now. no you don't get a choice and no it doesn't matter if you're good or not it's about fun

(if you ARE good tho?? he is HYPED and if you are shy about it they will be insufferable until you do a song with him at least once)

I didn't realize how many I had I'm going to have to make a part 2 with these haha

[aventurineswife]

Hello! First time requesting! Can I please request Aventurine, Anaxa, and Dr. Ratio with a Mobius inspired reader? Mobius is a scientist from HI3, obsessed with immortality and evolution. Heavy snake imagery, like Jade just less domineering and more Eldritch Horror. But! My main interest is how Mobius/Reader acts sweet and seductive in order to fulfill their ambitions(getting volunteers, funding, and such for experiments), despite hating every second of it. Also how they're willing to experiment on their own body for the sake of longevity. Though under this they do genuinely care for the people close to them, but just can't(or won't) give up their ambitions for anything. And only go fully mad scientist if those people end up dying. Sorry if this got really long! Mobius is my favorite character ever and HSR is quickly approaching favorite game territory. Have a nice day!

“Darling, You’ll Decay Before I Do”

Synopsis: In a universe where brilliance borders madness, an alluring researcher obsessed with immortality weaves through politics, passion, and peril—ensnaring the minds of a strategist, a scholar, and a logician. Seduction becomes a tool, affection a liability, and ambition an ever-consuming flame. But when bonds are tested and mortality intrudes, the question remains: how far will one go to defy the end?

Tags: Ratio x Reader, Aventurine x Reader, Anaxa x Reader, Mobius based Reader, Mad Scientist Reader, Slow Burn, Morally Grey Characters, Seduction As Manipulation, Emotional Repression, Psychological Tension, Eldritch Themes, Found Family, Obsession With Immortality, Mutual Manipulation, Tragic Romance, Experiment-Driven Plot, Light Body Horror, Philosophical Conflict.

Warnings: Emotional Manipulation, Scientific Experimentation On Self And Others, Existential Themes, Body Modification, Survivor’s Guilt, References To Trauma, Mild Gore, Loss And Grief, Obsessive Behavior, Intense Psychological Tension, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms

A/N: Forgive me if this isn't written well—I based the Reader's personality solely on the information provided (I was too lazy to read Mobius’ backstory and other details).

Aventurine had seen charm weaponized before.

But never like this.

You weren’t just persuasive—you were designed for temptation. Your words were nectar, your presence slithered like silk over flesh, and your smile made gamblers forget they were already bankrupt. To others, you were a seduction. To him, you were a mirror.

"You're looking for funding," Aventurine drawled one evening, swirling a glass of amber liquor. "Or a donor?"

You tilted your head, eyes gleaming. “Same thing, really.”

He laughed, teeth flashing. "And what will I get in return? A patent? A serum? Immortality with side effects?"

"An opportunity." You leaned closer, and the scent of sterile steel and crushed jasmine laced the air between you. “To bet on something bigger than stock markets. Evolution. Ascension.”

Aventurine’s pulse thrilled at the danger in your voice, the madness humming under your skin. You were chaos in a lab coat, elegant and terrifying. And yet, he couldn’t look away.

He’d seen people fake passion. He’d faked it himself. But the way your hands shook after injecting yourself with your latest serum—the tremor you tried to hide behind a flirtatious smile—that was real.

And when he caught you alone, vomiting blood into a sink lined with snake-scale etchings, he didn’t say a word.

He just stepped behind you, placed a steady hand on your shoulder, and said, “Let me guess. This version didn’t work either?”

You laughed softly. Hollow. Haunted.

“Still worth the gamble,” you whispered.

In you, he saw something more dangerous than deceit: conviction. You’d sacrifice everything—even your body—for evolution’s altar. And if he were honest, that terrified and thrilled him in equal measure.

So he stayed close. Not to stop you. Not even to save you.

But to witness you.

Because some bets? You take for the sheer thrill of the risk.

He knew what you were the moment you slithered into his office.

Not literally, of course. But in the way your eyes gleamed like distant galaxies, the way your voice wrapped around syllables with reverence and venom. You didn’t knock. You didn’t wait. You simply arrived, as though you’d always been meant to.

"You're the one experimenting with soul coils and regenerative genetics," Anaxa said, voice slow, curious.

"And you're the one who dissected a dying god for 'truth'," you purred.

He chuckled, brushing a stray hair behind his ear. "Touché."

The two of you danced in dialogue like dueling philosophers. He spoke of forbidden knowledge, and you offered him blood-soaked notes in return. You craved evolution—no, transcendence. You stitched together truths the universe tried to hide, wore perfume to mask the formaldehyde, and smiled with lips painted in venom.

You were beautiful in the way stars were—distant, deadly, inevitable.

He found you once in your lab, sobbing silently as you held a failing graft in your hands. One that had once been human. One you hadn’t meant to lose.

"You said you didn’t care," he whispered.

“I don’t,” you snapped. But your voice cracked like breaking bone.

He didn’t press. Just sat beside you, his gloved hand finding yours—blackened with ink, blood, and promise.

"You remind me of who I could have become," he murmured.

"Better or worse?"

"Neither. Just... inevitable."

From then on, he visited you often—not to restrain your madness, but to temper it. And when your eyes burned with divine hunger, he matched you stride for stride.

In the end, it wasn’t about love.

It was about understanding.

And that was rarer than either of you cared to admit.

Dr. Ratio admired ambition.

But your ambition unsettled even him.

Your lab was a cathedral of horrors and hypotheses. Tubes of unnatural serum lined the walls like stained glass; the stench of formalin danced with lavender oil to fool weaker stomachs. But Ratio wasn’t weak.

He stepped over your failed clones. He listened to your proposals with arms crossed and eyes narrowing.

"You altered your own neural framework to accommodate an artificial limbic inhibitor," he said flatly. "Is that… wise?"

"It stopped me from crying," you replied sweetly. "Or from screaming, depending on the day."

He exhaled slowly.

You didn’t manipulate him. Not successfully. But you tried. With every tilt of your head, every seductive breath laced in careful cadence. And Ratio let you—because he wanted to see what you’d do when it failed.

And yet…

When you fell unconscious after a particularly aggressive auto-experiment, he stayed.

Read your logs.

Held your hand through seizures.

And whispered, just once, “You fool. You absolute genius.”

You awoke hours later, blinking past synthetic retinas. You saw his expression soften—a fraction.

“Don’t look at me like that,” you murmured. “I chose this.”

“I know,” he replied coldly. “I just wish you hadn’t.”

He offered you funding. Mentorship. A place among the Intelligentsia.

But never affection. That was yours to steal, if you could.

And when he finally touched your face—one gentle, gloved thumb tracing the grafted seam of your cheek—it wasn’t as a lover.

It was as an equal.

“Promise me something,” he said.

“What?”

“If you must become immortal… don’t forget how to feel.”

You smiled, cracked and stitched together.

“I already did, Dr. Ratio.”

But you knew he would never stop reminding you.

[dazedantics]

Type - Bob Floyd x Reader

I need to stop reading on this site

Bob was an observer.

Maybe he wouldn't talk to a person. Not because he didn't want to or anything like that. But even then he would note every little thing about that person.

What they acted like around certain people or when doing certain things. When they were nervous and what made them calm down. If they'd prefer to be talked to or rather left alone.

Maybe he didn't notice the other things. Like if they were feeling sad or angry. Now, obviously he can see when someone's sad. But if it's deep set or an ongoing thing and they're working to hide it, have been for a while. He can clock that something is going on, but can't really piece together what's going on behind the happy face.

In the moment stuff.

That's what he's quick to pick up on.

Like on the first meet or when he's assigned to a task with a person for a short period of time. He can pretty much guess what they're feeling rather quickly.

He likes to solve problems.

So whenever he gets a sense of something going on, he'll try different methods to help out -make them smile, forget what's going on for a moment. Try and make their day.

Once he figures out the right method, he doesn't forget. Keeps it tucked it away in case he sees that person again.

And that's just with strangers, new people.

So imagine how much he notices about someone he gets close to?

When he gets close to you?

And starts developing feelings after spending so much time watching you.

Not in a creepy way! Just paying attention. The general idea he gets about your person becoming clearer the longer you spend together.

You laugh when he says things, even when he's not trying to be funny. Sit with him during your free hours. Talk to him about random things. Smile at him just cause.

He already found you cute when you'd first met. Never said anything cause that'd be weird. But time seems to make you becoming more beautiful each time he sees you.

You seem to like him.

He senses you're comfortable around him. You seek him out a lot. You're a lot more open with him than you are with others. Something he notices before you even tell him that.

But you're not interested in him the way he is.

You like ... the exact opposite of him.

So it leaves a dull sting at the bottom of his heart knowing he didn't have a chance.

But he's not possessive.

He's happy to keep being just your close friend since he liked you even before his feelings developed. He was supportive. And would rather keep watching out for you if he couldn't be "the one."

He listens to you talk about your crushes. Gets a read on them before telling you his honest opinion on if you should go for it or not then explains why.

At least, he used to be able to do all that just fine till now.

Now where you're both close with all the team, required to come together often, not much chance to go out and see other people, force to form bonds you'd remember for a lifetime.

And Bob has to watch you pine for the guy just so not like him.

See him flirt with you. Watch your heart flutter as you catch the wink they send. That sly grin, teeth showing as they lean against the wall, far too casual in getting close than he should be.

Watch that grin of yours spead. All genuine and hopeful as you say your goodbyes for the day. Giddy as you come back to Bob's side. Eyes saying you'd be talking about the encounter once you were out of earshot of the guy.

And then watch you again when the flirtation goes on for too long and you start feeling dejected by how your chats are leading you nowhere despite how much you want them to.

And that dull ache he felt when realizing it'd never be him becomes worse as he realizes watching you like this is far worse than what he resigned himself to.

"Maybe it's me, Bob," you tell him finally on a late night out at the beach.

You sit on a stoop, side by side, a small gap between the two of you. No thighs touching or shoulders bumping. Something he'd like.

At some point after your arrival here, a silence draped over you two as you stare off at the setting sun across the waves, he'd given in to his thoughts.

Sliding his hand slowly closer to yours about an inch every ten seconds until the sides of your pinkies grazed.

A pause.

Then moving again to rest the end of his hand just atop the end of yours.

Wait.

Then an inch again.

Process repeated until his hand fully enveloped yours.

Not holding not lacing, just resting there. Pensive.

His hand is warm over yours. The beach breeze nippy, making your skin take a slight chill.

He thinks you're greatful for his heat.

At least he hopes you are.

And you stay like that for a while. Not talking. Not looking. Just being.

Still.

Serene.

And then he feels your hand turn under his, flipping over to take proper hold of his hand, fingers laced together and all.

He doesn't look, not even a peek. But a smile grows as he stares out at the gleaming water, glasses slipping down his nose. He can tell his attempts to keep the grin at bay are failing. But you're not looking at him to see it, so it's fine.

Then you sit like that for a moment longer.

Till your heel starts to nervously kick against the stoop where you sit. Not harshly. Just thought filled. You want to tell him something but are worried of the response. He can tell.

But he won't say anything until you do.

Never does.

In this exact moment it's because he wants to just remember this day, this part of the day, clear to look back on in the future.

"No. It is me," you continue. "I pick them all wrong, Bob. And the thing is, I know I do! Right from the start I know they'll be that type. That they'll just talk and talk, making me feel all giddy, but never intend more than just one date. If you can even call what they have in mind that."

Your thumb nervously keeps running over his knuckles. He squeezes your hand. Little pulses to keep you steady. He hopes.

"But I just like those types! Annoying as it is. They make me feel so ... excited! Pumped to start chasing the moon and not come back. I like the flirts. The arrogant types. I dunno, they just seem so confident and I like that."

You let out a deflated sigh, laying back against the stoop, hands still connected, eyes on the sky.

"Maybe I should stop. Wait till I'm back home, give those guys there a chance. But ... I don't know ... they feel so ... desperate? That's not the word, I know. But they're just ... so willing to drop everything and marry me. Which is what I want, don't get me wrong. But the types I like make me work for it, y'know?"

Bob had turned his head to watch you by now, certain words pinging in his mind as you spoke.

You ran a hand through your hair before resting it beside you.

"They make me feel like I'm putting effort into it whereas the other guys make me feel like I don't have to do anything. Feels unfulfilling. I just don't get 'that feeling' when I imagine a life with the sweet ones compared to the type I like."

A sigh.

"Maybe I need to get my brain checked for all this. Force myself to go with the option I know could lead to what I want. That's what's best for me. Right?"

That last part was directed at him rather than just spoken to get it off your chest.

You were looking at him. A little sadness in the eyes, lips subconsciously curled into a pout.

It made him ache to see this.

He shifted his body more towards you, keeping his hand in yours. Nudging up his glasses a bit before speaking.

"It's okay to want that. Not everyone likes the same things."

He didn't plan on himself moving closer, inch by inch like he had with your hands, the pause in between.

But he didn't stop.

"But it's okay to not be the only one working for it either. You can get what you want with any type of person. But that's when you don't force it. When you don't go out there intending to find 'the one.' That feeling you're talking about will come along naturally too."

He was hovering just above your nose by now, eyes scanning yours as they always did.

He moved his free hand up, placing it on your stomach. Then flexed his fingers slightly.

Not intending anything.

Just ... doing.

And he felt that sharp inhale as he did it. How your body stayed tense, eyes widening with something he hadn't quite seen before.

He'd figure out what it was eventually.

"Personally, I feel you should be the one doing nothing. Make them work for it. You have a lot to offer. Make them want to see it ... the way I want to."

Again, a sharp breath and deep swallow.

He could feel himself burning up. A red forming from across his nose to each ear.

He swallowed as well, jaw squaring to stop himself from licking his lips.

He looked down to yours though, tempting thoughts coming to him again. But no. If he was going to do that, he was going to do it right.

But he still wanted to do something.

So after another pause, he leaned in, and pressed a kiss to your cheek.

"You're gonna be fine. If you think this guy is worth it," he shrugged pulling back, "then keep talking. I'll do something about him if it gets worse."

And he stayed sat back up for the rest of the night. Hand in yours. You still laying back. Quiet. Nothing else said other than "goodbye" when you parted for the night.

You didn't speak about that day moving forward.

Kept meeting each other during your usual times. Sitting together. Talking together. Smiling. Laughing.

Like normal.

But he has noticed you hang around that guy more. Talking.

Notices how open the guy has become. Sees him talk back more. Less smirky, more interested.

Sees how you hold both his hands and swing them absentmindedly as you talk.

How the guy spares looks his way more often.

He doesn't sense something mean. But it's odd.

And still he feels that ache in his chest.

And still he doesn't mention it.

Just smiles as you come back to him.

He expects things are going good. That maybe he'll have to settle his mind on the idea that you'll be around him less often in favor of the other guy.

But he'll be fine.

He'll keep observing from afar as he knows he's good at. Ready to keep you safe if need be.

He doesn't expect you pulling him aside one day as he enters the building, dragging him away from your group of people, into the hall, far away enough in case someone might hear.

His initial instinct is concern.

But then you take his hands in yours as you did the guy.

And you start talking, all held back smiles and averted eyes.

You look happy.

Perhaps you'd tell him that guy was the one.

Good for you.

"I know who I want now." You started.

And he smiled. "Good. That's good. Happy for you."

"Bob, I didn't think this would happen. Not to sound rude or anything, it's just ... y'know ... you're so ...," you paused, eyes flicking him up and down. "You?"

You giggled, swinging his hands nervously.

"Not my type at all you know?"

And his heart stilled.

He heard you. He know he did. He wasn't interpreting this wrong was he?

"I've always felt good about you, I love being with you. It's just ... that night at the beach? And you were all ... close ... and saying all that stuff? It gave me that feeling I said never get with your type. Worse than I've felt it with anyone. Well, not worse, that's not the word. And I don't mean to keep referring to you as a type like that's all I see you as! I don't! I truly don't. I just mean it as ... I just ... you know what I mean!"

He was not hearing this right.

There was no way.

"Look, Bob." You took a breath. "I don't know if that was just 'a moment' type of thing. But I've been talking to that guy and he thinks I should try it out."

Oh.

Right.

No way.

You chuckled looking down at the floor. "Y'know, he said he thought you and I were dating or had some history when we first met. That's a good thing right? A sign for potential good in the future?"

Wait ... way?

You shook your head, looking him in the eye now. "Point is, I want to try with you. Talk with you. Flirt with you. Date you. See if you're the guy I should've been looking for all along?"

... No way ....

You laughed nervously. "I- I know you're a quiet guy, Bob. But I kinda need you to respond to this."

That brought him back.

And he blinked once before rushing to cup your face in his hands and plant that kiss he'd been waiting so long to have.

This had to be a dream.

A damn good one if your hands felt that nice running through his hair to bring him closer.

His glasses were knocked askew, but he didn't care. Your lips felt too good on his. Soft and warm and more than he could hope for.

And maybe he got a bit overzealous, hardly pulling back before kissing you again and again with more force.

Not harsh or demanding.

Just ... desperate, maybe? Memorizing every little detail of the moment. The taste, the feel, the reaction, everything.

If this was just some cruel prank then he was making the most of it.

He felt you smile against him, hands on his chest to push him back, a soft whine escaping him as you separated yourself. Unintentional truly. He hardly noticed.

You giggled, lips sucked between your teeth as you caught your breath. "Easy, Floyd. You haven't even given me your answer yet."

"That wasn't enough?" He breathed out.

That laugh came again and he felt himself start to calm. Your hands reaching out set his glasses straight.

"I'd like verbal confirmation, Lieutenant."

"Oh my g- yes! Yes ... yes." He stated. "I would like that."

Then he paused, face flushing as it all caught up to him. Nervous laughter coming from him now.

"Oh my God. Sorry. Sorry ... sorry, I was ... s-sorry ... I'm sorry."

You chuckled, brushing his hair into place. "For what? I enjoyed that."

He let out a heavy sigh through his nose.

A pause.

And then?

He pulled you back in again. And again. And again.

You really couldn't be talking to him like that.

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

Hi batwitch, can you help me with something? I know I'm allowed to read whatever I want that's fine and good, and because I'm a mom I read from all age groups. Problem is, since last year I've read 30 something books and the ones I enjoyed were almost all middle grade or young adult, meant for younger teens. I picked up really popular and critically acclaimed adult books from all major genres, and nothing really clicked. I got too bogged down by small annoyances and DNF'd many of them. Now I feel like I've become lazy or lost my reading skills or something, because I used to read tomes of political fantasy before covid hit. Maybe I have long covid and really did lose brain capacity, I don't know, but how does one pick up that skill again and stop feeling stupid?

I mean I think the biggest issue here is that you've clearly got the idea that there's a certain type of book you're supposed to read and that anything else is a sign of some shortcoming, when the reality is that as far as I'm concerned the books you're meant to read are the ones that capture your attention and engross you, whatever those may be.

you seem to be taking it as a sign of something negative that you're not finishing books because something about them annoys you, but I wonder what you think there is to gain by forcing yourself through books that are aggravating when all you're trying to do is read for fun. I'm a huge proponent of dropping any book that isn't landing for you, in much the same way I'd think it only reasonable for someone to slip a song they're not enjoying or cut short a movie that isn't catching their interest. that's called discernment, and it's a great skill for anyone to cultivate in regards to understanding what kind of art attracted and resonates with them.

don't get me wrong; by all means you can and should keep exploring books across a variety of genres and age ranges if you want to, because you never know when you'll find something that feels like it was made to fit you perfectly. broadening your horizons is always great! but reading broadly includes respecting books for younger readers, too. if that's where you're having fun right now, that doesn't mean you're lazy or stupid; it just means your tasted are different. you've changed, which is the single most natural thing in the world, and it shows in what you like to read right now and, probably, in countless other ways. that's fine.