#their auras must be so calming

[heartsiebyul]

Twisted Wonderland characters when their lover refuses to let them get up for school, clinging to them during a lazy morning in bed.

(Featuring: Riddle, Leona, Jack, Floyd, Malleus, Silver, and Sebek)

Requested by: @ghost3029

Riddle Rosehearts

You roll over and sling an arm across his chest the moment his alarm rings.

“Mmm... five more minutes...” you mumble, nuzzling into his neck.

“(m/n), we have to get up. You know we can’t be late—!”

But you're already wrapping your legs around him too.

He tries to sound stern, but his red face betrays him.

"You’re so irresponsible...” he mutters, but still doesn’t move.

He eventually sighs and adjusts the blanket over you both, whispering, “Just five minutes. No more.”

(You both miss the first class.)

Leona Kingscholar

You’re basically both professional nappers.

When you whine and say, “Don’t get up… just skip,” Leona snorts.

“Heh… who said I was getting up?”

He just throws his arm over you and pulls you flush against his chest.

“You’re warm. Comfy. And your whining is kinda cute. Go back to sleep.”

You don't need to be told twice. You fall asleep on his chest while he dozes with your hair under his nose.

Ruggie shows up 30 minutes later to drag him out, and gets a pillow to the face.

Jack Howl

Jack wakes up early. You do not.

When he starts shifting out of bed, you groan and pull at his arm.

“Stay… it’s warm… I need you here.”

His ears twitch. “(m/n)… that’s not fair.”

But he doesn’t resist when you rest your head on his chest and wrap your arms around his waist.

His tail starts wagging despite himself.

“Ten more minutes,” he says.

(You both fall asleep again and wake up 40 minutes later in a panic.)

Floyd Leech

You’re practically draped over him when he tries to sit up.

“Mmmh, don’t go…” you murmur.

Floyd grins, sharp teeth showing. “Eeeh~? Shrimpy wants to cuddle more?”

He flops right back onto you, limbs entangling with yours.

“Too bad. I was gonna go squeeze some boring students today, but I guess I’ll squeeze you instead~”

He nuzzles into your neck and traps you completely under his weight.

You don’t move for hours. Azul gives up trying to call him by noon.

Malleus Draconia

You cling to him like a koala, sleepily whispering, “Don’t leave me, it’s cozy…”

Malleus chuckles, low and warm. “If that is your wish my dear, I shall remain.”

He tucks a hand under your chin, brushing his lips over your forehead.

“Classes can wait. Time spent with you is far more valuable.”

He strokes your hair as you drift back to sleep, surrounded by his calm, protective aura.

Lilia thinks it’s adorable and takes a candid photo to tease you both later.

Silver

He’s used to dozing off accidentally, but he did try to get up early today.

You tug him back down with a pout. “Too early… just stay…”

His sleepy eyes blink open, and he hums, “(m/n)… you’re just like a warm spell…”

He lets you pull him back under the covers and smiles softly as he closes his eyes.

“We’ll rest… just a little longer.”

Sebek finds him still cuddling you hours later and yells for five minutes straight.

Sebek Zigvolt

He tries so hard to wake up and do his duties.

“Human! Release me this instant—! I must attend to Lord Malleus!”

But you just grumble, “Nope. You’re staying. I’m cold.”

His face goes crimson. “Th-That’s not my problem!”

You nuzzle into his shoulder and sigh his name sleepily.

He freezes. His heart does acrobatics.

“V-Very well… five minutes,” he mutters, as stiff as a board.

You end up asleep on top of him. He doesn’t move for an hour.

my first request~! I hope I did a good job! If you’d like to see the other characters too, feel free to let me know :3

[thepencilnerd]

Your Man

thank you very much to @ananonymousaffair, @clubsoft, and @letsgobarbs for including me in the 𝘈 𝘋𝑂𝘊𝑇𝘖𝑅 𝐴 𝐷𝘈𝑌 writing event <3 i cannot wait to dive into the pieces written by my fellow writers (check out the full post for every tagged gem!) prompt: "I think to be so dumb must be nice." | colour: black 🖤 pairing: jack abbot x f!resident reader summary: You and Jack have been bickering your way through night shifts for ages now—until two flying trays, a stitched-up hand, and one too many almost-confessions turn everything into something neither of you can ignore. content/warnings: enemies to lovers (all the banter, jabs, & sarcasm), slow-burn, emotionally repressed idiots to emotionally repressed idiots in love, depiction of harassment towards healthcare workers, protective!reader & protective!jack, fluff, angst, Robby being done with both of you wc: 5.2k a/n: i def could have gone a certain direction *cough cough* but i was overcome with a sudden craving for enemies to lovers / "they're both stubborn and it's complicated tropes," so i present to you this emotionally constipated snippet of my heart 🩺🖤

It was a well-known fact that you always clocked in after Jack Abbot.

Not because you meant to. At least, not exactly.

It started one night during your first week on night shift. You’d been cramming for exams all day, convinced you could fit in just one more practice block before your shift—just one more. But you dozed off somewhere around question 43, mouth open against the back of your textbook, a puddle of drool collecting around what once was a diagram of the cardiac chambers.

You sprinted in at 6:45pm, flustered and un-caffeinated, only to find Jack already there. Leaning against the nurses’ station with a cup of coffee like he’d been born in that spot, annoyingly calm and smirking like he’d seen this coming.

"Cutting it close, Dr. L/N," he’d said, not even looking up from his chart. "Careful. That’s how habits start."

He was right.

At first, you were apologetic—nervous and over-eager, all stammered greetings and shuffled charts. Jack didn’t seem to notice you beyond the bare minimum, and you chalked that up to his status, his seniority, his general aura of don’t talk to me unless someone is actively dying.

But things changed. Somewhere between covering for each other during rounds, tagging out on disaster admits, and a running tally of how many times you each got paged during a single trauma night, familiarity set in. You became colleagues. Then reluctant allies. And somewhere along the line—rivals. Enemies, depending on who you asked and on how bad the night was going.

One time, you were both elbow-deep in post-codes, barely functioning off stale coffee and mutual spite, when he passed you a chart and muttered, "Try not to kill this one with your bedside manner."

You took it without looking up from the board above you. "I'll match your emotional range and we'll both be fine."

You were never late, but it soon became a silent game. He always beat you at it. Whether it was by five minutes or five steps, you never let yourself get there before him. A superstition, maybe. A routine. A rhythm. And because you liked to keep him on edge—just to get a reaction out of him.

Seeing Jack colored with shades of affect, even if it was playfully annoyed, was fun. It made him predictable, addictive, a full 180 from his usual stone-cold demeanor. He’d scowl, grumble something about professionalism, and still let you win half the time. It became a kind of game, and you were very good at it.

Now as a senior resident awaiting board licensure, it was practically tradition.

He was already at the nurses’ station, sipping black coffee like it was fuel and he was a half-full tank, eyes scanning over charts. His voice cut through the hum of bedlam as you approached. "Late again, Dr. L/N. At least you're consistent."

You flipped him off without breaking stride. "And yet, somehow, the hospital hasn't burned down yet. Miraculous, wouldn't you say so, Dr. Abbot?"

He raised a brow, the faintest smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. "Not even ten minutes in and already have our claws out, do we?"

"Oh, Jack," you pouted, "this is just foreplay."

"Ah, is that what you call passive-aggressive incompetence now?"

"Bold of you to assume it’s passive," you fired back, picking up an iPad and scanning through your list of patients for the night. "Or that I’m incompetent, considering I actually round with patients instead of brooding in corners like a gargoyle."

"Gargoyle?" he echoed. "I’m flattered you’ve been staring long enough to come up with nicknames."

"Please," you scoffed. "Your aura of gloom is visible from space. NASA actually filed a complaint saying it was interfering with their ability to conduct research."

Jack paused for a beat, gaze flicking over you more intently than usual. "Did you eat before your shift?"

You eyes were glued on the iPad, your only response a single head bobble "no."

He didn’t like that. Robby could tell from the way his jaw flexed slightly—but he said nothing. Just hummed under his breath and looked back at his clipboard.

Robby had been watching through his glasses the entire time, arms crossed and eyes narrowed like a dad wrangling in two over-caffeinated siblings. He blinked at the two of you, then sighed—long, theatrical, the kind of sigh that said he had survived more codes than he could count but this was titrating his patience.

"You two ever gonna kiss, or just keep trying to murder each other with sarcasm?" He took his glasses off to bury his face in his hands with a groan.

Jack didn’t look up, turning the page over on his clipboard. "I prefer homicide. Cleaner paperwork."

"Honestly, I'd take an explosive diarrhea case over having this conversation," you muttered, half to Robby, half to yourself, rubbing at the bridge of your nose like the words might erase Jack from your field of vision. 

Robby would be remiss if he didn't catch the way neither of you clocked his kiss and make up comment. He stared at you both, mouth frozen in a half-smile that said he couldn’t decide whether to laugh or launch you into separate time zones. He gave it two full seconds—long enough to confirm that you were both still hopeless—before shaking his head in defeat.

"I think," Robby hummed, patting both of your shoulders like a tired camp counselor, "to be so dumb must be nice."

You and Jack had the same unimpressed expression locked and loaded—scowls sharp and identical, contempt trained squarely on Robby, both of you about to mouth off in perfect sync.

He walked off before either of you could open your mouths. 

—

By 3am, the fatigue and hunger were chewing holes in your composure.

Too many admits. Not enough staff. Shen being chronically unbothered. Myrna threatening to murder her wife—when you and Jack turned to ask if she had a wife, matching expressions of disbelief already locked in place, she looked at you deadpan and asked, "You wanna get hitched?"

And always—always—Jack.

Fucking Jack.

With his clipboard full of passive-aggressive notes in that damn attractive calligraphy handwriting.

His tone clipped like a warning and welcome all at once.

And his black scrubs making him look like the grim reaper of constructive criticism and deconstructive mental undressing.

"Patient in six?" you asked.

"CT just came back. Small bowel obstruction. Classic presentation, apparently."

You glanced his way. "Told you it wasn’t just post-op gas."

Jack didn’t miss a beat. "And yet, you were already quoting discharge guidelines to the new intern before radiology even called back."

You shot him a look. Walsh would be proud of you for that one. "I was outlining possibilities. It’s called methodical thinking—must not be a concept you’re familiar with."

He grinned, lazy and unbothered. "Chaos works for me. You panic without bullet points."

You rolled your eyes. "You’re the only attending I know who thrives in complete chaos and calls it a ‘method.’"

"And you’re the only resident I know who color-codes her trauma alerts."

The edge of your lip curled. "That’s called being prepared."

He gestured vaguely. "It’s called being uptight."

You arched a brow. "Spoken like someone who thinks organized is a four-letter word that starts with 'f' and ends with 'k'."

He leaned in, voice dropping just slightly. "Spoken like someone who secretly enjoys cleaning up after my messes."

You blinked once. Then grinned wider. "One day, your beloved chaos is going to bite you in the ass."

He tapped your chart as he walked past. "I guess it’s a good thing you’ve already alphabetized the first aid supplies for me."

—

By 3:20, the storm hit.

Lightning cracked the sky. Power flickered. The backup generator hummed to life with a groan. You should've brought an extra jacket to keep in your locker but it would end up disappearing anyway. Jack was in the hallway already, flashlight in hand.

"OR’s shut down. We’re triaging manually. You good?"

You nodded, biting your tongue. This wasn’t the time.

You worked side by side in the makeshift command center. Tension simmered beneath the quiet coordination—until a grabby frat-boy type from bay four decided he didn’t like being told to sit still and wait.

It happened fast.

He flung the tray off his bed, sending instruments clattering across the floor. You instinctively raised your hand to shield your face—just as a stray scalpel nicked the back of your hand, slicing a sharp, shallow arc. The pain didn’t register immediately. Jack did.

He was on the guy in an instant, stepping in front of you, voice low and lethal. "Sit. Down." The words came out all but minced. 

Security had already been called, but Jack looked like he wanted to break the guy’s face just for breathing in your direction. He didn’t even turn back to you until the orderlies dragged the patient away.

Then his hand was cupping your elbow, his voice much softer. "Let me see it."

You hissed as he inspected the cut. "It’s not deep."

"You’re bleeding on my chaos," he muttered, guiding you gently to an empty room.

You snorted through the blossoming pain. "Told you my color-coding wasn’t excessive."

He grabbed a suture kit, pulling gloves on with the kind of care you usually saw him reserve for crics and broken ribs. "Hold still."

"Bossy."

"Only when someone I like gets stabbed in the hand."

Your breathing hitched. "Like, huh?"

Jack’s attention was fixed on your hand. "Don’t make it weird."

You smiled, watching him thread the needle, so close, so focused. "Wouldn’t dream of it."

The quiet that followed wasn’t heavy. Quite the opposite. It felt warm. Easy. He worked methodically, hands sure, touch gentle, eyes flicking up every few seconds to check your expression like it mattered more than the wound. As he cleaned around the cut and prepped the lidocaine syringe, you both said it in unison—

"Slight prick and a burn."

You laughed under your breath, both at his expression of surprise and your synchrony. "God. That phrase is ingrained in my soul. I think I said it to a grapefruit during my 5th year."

Jack’s lips twitched. "I said it to a patient’s plush raccoon once."

You watched his hands move with steady precision, stitching you up like he had all the time in the world. The storm outside cracked again, but neither of you flinched.

"Make sure I don’t scar, Doc," you teased, settling in as he prepped the suture. "I need these hands to make magic and miracles happen. Might even become a hand model if this whole medicine thing doesn’t pan out."

Jack didn’t look up, but you caught the twitch at the corner of his mouth. "I’ll do my best, ma’am. But if you end up on a billboard somewhere, I expect royalties."

You snorted. "In your dreams."

Jack didn’t say anything at first—just gave you a small, private smile like he was tucking something away in the back of his mind. Like he was keeping it just for himself.

And this time, when you looked at him, he didn’t look away.

For a few minutes, the raindrops tapping against the windows were the only sound that filled the empty space. Jack didn't speak. He just kept his gaze on your hand, now bandaged, resting on the edge of the tray table like it had never been hurt. You watched him watching you, your heart thudding quietly in your throat. 

"You always take care of your disasters this nicely?" you mumbled.

He smirked. "Only the pretty ones."

You didn’t speak of it.

Not until later, when the lights came back and the halls emptied and you were alone in the break room.

You noticed it as he leaned against the counter, scrubs rumpled, hair even more so. His scrubs were black, as always—just rumpled enough to prove he'd been moving all night, just fitted enough to be infuriating. You took a sip of water, eyeing him from across the break room table as you both took a seat. Something about the way the fluorescent light caught the curve of his jaw made the words slip out before you could stop them.

"Do you own anything that isn’t black?" you asked, voice light with sudden curiosity. "Or is your off-duty wardrobe just a series of increasingly gothic-toned hoodies that match your work-wear?"

Jack glanced up from his coffee, one brow arched. "It hides blood."

You stared. "You really don’t let anyone in, huh?"

He didn’t answer right away, just sipped his coffee and stared out at the empty hallway beyond the break room.

Finally, with a shrug that didn’t quite match the weight behind it, he said, "You’re one to talk."

That made you laugh, but it came out softer than expected. "Guess we’re both pretty terrible at normal."

Jack’s lips twitched. "Normal’s overrated."

You leaned back in your chair, legs stretched out in front of you, the tips of your sneakers barely brushing his. Neither of you moved. 

Suddenly, Jack got up and yanked open a small drawer by the coffee machine and pulled out a sad-looking granola bar, handing it to you without meeting your eyes.

"Eat this."

Your brow furrowed, suspicious. "Seriously?"

"You haven’t eaten since yesterday," he muttered, brushing it off like it didn’t matter. Like he hadn’t noticed.

You stared at the wrapper, then at him. "You really had that locked and loaded?"

He didn’t answer. Just crossed his arms and stuck the bar out at you further. "It’s chocolate. Don’t make me regret it."

Instead of prying further, your hand reached out slowly and took it, eyes still narrowed, studying him like he’d just burnt out a fuse in your brain.

Silence washed over you again. Occasionally filled by the sound of you munching on your granola bar and taking measured sips of your coffee. After a few minutes and one crumpled granola bar later, you caught Jack sneaking a glance at you over the rim of his cup.

You didn’t say anything—just raised a brow.

He looked away like he hadn’t been watching you at all.

But the corner of his mouth betrayed him.

The words crept out of your mouth carefully. "Do you think..." 

Jack looked up, gaze intent. 

"Nevermind," you stopped yourself. 

He leaned in closer, the space between you shrinking into something almost unbearable. Not quite touching, not even brushing—but the air thickened under the weight of his stare. That kind of eye contact that felt like it could crack glass. Steady. Searching.

You let the quiet spool between you like a thread someone might tug, if they were brave enough.

"It's rude to start things you don't intend on finishing," he stated simply.

You blinked, still caught in the current of that look, then leaned in a little—almost like you were about to whisper a secret. Jack mirrored you without hesitation, like it was instinct.

Your voice was barely above a murmur. "Do you think..."

He waited, gaze steady, maybe even a tinge of hope if you squinted.

"...that the real reason you thrive in chaos is because it matches your personality?" you deadpanned.

Jack exhaled sharply, the ghost of a scoff tugging at his mouth. He sat back, shaking his head. "Unbelievable."

You grinned, eyes bright and playful. "What? I finished it."

"Barely," he muttered, but he was smiling too.

A few beats passed. You both sat in the lingering quiet, the kind that settled in only after long shifts and half-spoken things.

Then he leaned in—just a little—mirroring what you'd done earlier. You furrowed your brows, curious.

He lowered his voice, almost conspiratorial. "Do you think..."

You leaned in too, expecting something real, something heavy.

"...that you secretly enjoy being wrong? Because, statistically, it’s seems like your favorite hobby."

Your jaw dropped to let out a puff of air, baffled by his audacity, and pushed his arm. "God, you’re insufferable."

He chuckled under his breath. "And yet, here you are."

You gave him a sideways glance, lips quirking. "I will admit that it’s in my top five favorite hobbies. But it still doesn’t beat ‘annoying Jack Abbot.’ That one’s undefeated."

Jack shook his head, eyes warm and lips softened in a grin. "You’d miss me if I ever stopped letting you win."

Your only response was a coy smile. You nudged his foot with yours beneath the table, and he glanced down at the contact. He nudged back, subtle and sure, like he didn’t want the moment to end just yet—then looked back up at you. Something passed between the pair of you—unspoken, tentative, curious.

The room fell quiet again, comfortable this time. Neither of you moved to leave.

Until Jack's phone buzzed.

He glanced at it, then cursed under his breath. "Room seven. It's that kid who demanded to speak to the 'head doctor' because I wouldn't give him dilaudid for a tension headache."

You raised a brow. "So... a normal Friday?"

"Basically."

You watched him go, expecting a quick de-escalation. Room seven. You knew who that was. Height rivaled only by his ego. Frat letters drawn across his bare chest like illiterate war paint. Barked at nurses like he owned the floor. The kind of guy who made everything someone else's problem, backed by daddy’s legal team and a two-semester record of hazing infractions.

Jack had said he’d handle it. He always did. Especially with these types. It was like they were on a rotation—every Friday night, a new brand of uninhibited pre-frontal cortex, privileged chaos.

But then you heard his voice—Jack’s—sharp and too loud from down the hall. A clatter followed, unmistakable. Tray to tile. A chair scraping. Then another crash. A shout that definitely wasn’t Jack’s.

You were already moving.

By the time you rounded the corner, the frat boy was mid-lunge, fury twisting his face as he hurled a tray toward Jack’s head like he was reenacting some half-remembered bar fight. Jack ducked, barely—but he was boxed in, too close to the wall.

You didn’t think. Just moved.

"Hey!" you barked, adrenaline surging. You threw yourself at him, coming at him like a freight train and making him fall back onto the bed with a grunt. A nurse hit the emergency call. Security swarmed seconds later.

Jack had grabbed your arm and pulled you back—tight but not painful—pulling you just out of the fray. "What the hell?"

You glared at him, chest heaving. "Returning the favor."

He didn’t let go.

"On-call room. Now."

He practically hauled you down the hall, his hand never leaving yours. You were both silent until the door shut behind you. He pressed his palms to the counter and stared at it like it had personally offended him.

"What was that?" His voice was sharp, unfiltered, pissed in a way you didn’t see often—not like this. Not when it was about you. "You could’ve gotten hurt."

"So could you." You leaned against the metal bunkbed frame, still catching your breath. "A simple 'thank you' would suffice."

His Adam's apple bobbed, slow, like the movement itself took restraint. His jaw was tight, eyes darker than usual.

"You're reckless," he said quietly.

"Takes one to know one," you laughed.

Jack didn’t.

He stepped forward instead, jaw clenched. "You have no regard for your safety and only for that of others."

You took a step back.

"You will go out of your way to treat and protect everyone around you at the expense of your own well-being."

Another step back. Any closer and—

"Do you understand," he said, each word measured, devastating, "how much I worry about you?"

Your heartbeat was a war drum now—loud, insistent, thunderous.

"Do you know how much I think about you? How much I plan for the worst every time you throw yourself between danger and someone else without a second thought?" he added, voice cracking just enough to reveal the truth beneath it. Laid bare.

"When you walk into the ER and you haven't eaten since the night before and I can see it—you're running on caffeine and impulse and whatever scraps of adrenaline are left."

You opened your mouth, but no sound came out.

He didn’t stop there. "When you give your jacket to a freezing patient and spend the next six hours shivering without saying a word—like that’s normal."

You swallowed. "It wasn’t cold..."

Jack’s voice sharpened. "You forget your umbrella and show up soaked but act like it's fine. Like it’s not freezing. Like you didn’t just volunteer to get sick."

Your fingers twitched against your side.

"And when you blow off your own wound care to finish a chart. Or cover a code blue for someone else even though your shift ended twenty minutes ago."

You looked away. His eyes never left you.

He stepped even closer, willing you to look at him. "When you pretend you’re made of steel. And then crack alone in the stairwell when you think no one’s looking."

It felt like ice cold water had dropped from the ceiling.

"Jack—" you managed to force out. 

He held up a hand and turned around, cutting you off. "Please." 

He couldn’t hear it. Not unless you felt the same. Not unless you'd listened, actually listened, for once. He’d rather bleed out not knowing than survive a rejection he couldn’t patch. Just colleagues. He'd switch over to day shift if he had to. Robby could put in a word for him. Temporary, at least until he found a new hospital. Maybe in a different city. Of a different state.

He looked anywhere but you, turning like he meant to leave, like he could walk it off and pretend none of this ever happened.

"Jack, please..." The words came out desperate, begging, pleading for him to stop.

He didn't meet your eyes—couldn't. "I'll see you at the nurses station." 

"Oh, for the love of God—" You reached forward and yanked him back by his forearm.

And then your lips were on his.

It wasn’t clean or careful. It was a crash—years of tension detonating all at once. He froze for half a second, eyes wide open like his brain was short-circuiting, then kissed you back with everything he had and more. Desperation, disbelief, hunger—it all poured out of him like water breaking through a dam.

Your hands cradled his face, thumbs grazing over the light stubble along his jaw, fingertips brushing the sharp edges of his cheekbones like you were learning him by touch alone. He kissed you like he couldn’t stand to stop, and you held him like you weren’t going to let him. He tasted like spearmint—sharp and stubborn—the gum he always carried in his pocket, and behind that, burnt coffee and something so distinctly Jack it made your limbs tingle.

His hands found your waist, your jaw, your back—grasping like he didn’t trust the moment to be real unless he mapped every inch of you with his fingertips. You were pressed chest to chest, and it still didn’t feel close enough.

Jack had kissed people before. He had slept with people before. He'd been married, for God's sake. But this—this—was unreal. This was heat and gravity and every inch of restraint he’d stitched into place finally tearing wide open. This was the reason human beings fought in wars. Why people wrote poetry and ruined perfectly stable lives for one perfect, maddening kiss. Why everything else material and immaterial suddenly paled in comparison.

Your hands were in his hair, tugging salt and pepper curls just enough to make him groan, low and wrecked against your lips.

He kissed you like he was trying to memorize the shape of your mouth, share the oxygen in your lungs, the little gasp you made when his thumb grazed the spot behind your ear just right. He devoured everything you gave him and kissed you like a man who had run out of time and patience.

Because he had.

He’d wanted this too long to pretend otherwise, and he'd sooner die than deprive either of you from this any longer. 

You pulled back just enough to breathe, your forehead resting lightly against his. Both of you were gasping, eyes locked in the kind of dazed silence that usually followed adrenaline crashes. 

"Took you long enough, old man," you whispered, lips still brushing his.

Jack blinked once, twice. Like he couldn’t believe this was real. Like the thought had crossed his mind a thousand times, but the reality of you—this—hit harder than he’d prepared for.

"You feel the same?" he asked quietly, in a tone that was more awe than question.

You nodded. "Since before either of us were brave enough to say it."

Jack let out a breath that shook at the edges. "I thought if I let it slip—if I looked too long, said too much—you’d shut me out."

"I thought if I admitted it, it would ruin everything."

"It didn’t," he murmured, leaning his forehead against yours.

"No," you whispered. "It finally made sense of everything."

Jack blinked again, almost like he hadn’t fully registered it until now. His gaze swept over your face, pausing at your lips, then your eyes, as if searching for the lie he couldn’t find.

"You really mean that?" he asked, quieter now. Not disbelieving—just internalizing.

You nodded again, slower this time. "I don’t do this if I don’t."

Jack let out another breath, but it wasn’t shaky this time—it was solid. Grounded. Relieved. He laughed under it, the sound warm and slightly incredulous.

"You really are impossible," he murmured, brushing his nose against yours.

"And you’re dramatic," you whispered back, smiling.

"Fair," he said. "But you’re still mine."

"Yeah," you said. "I think I always was."

Jack huffed a breath, the ghost of a smile tugging at his mouth. "Careful. You just kissed your attending. That kind of power could go to your head."

You grinned, still breathless. "Please. You kissed me back like your life depended on it."

"Who says it didn't?" he asked rhetorically, so quietly it almost got lost in the air between you.

Your fingers drifted to the back of his neck, fingertips brushing softly along the hairline, anchoring him there. Jack shivered. Not from cold—never from cold.

"Thank you," you admitted. "For taking care of me while I was busy taking care of everyone else."

His grip on your waist tightened, grounding himself, and then he leaned in again. This time it was slower. Less frantic. His lips found the curve of your neck, warm and reverent. You gasped—quietly—but it was enough. He kissed lower, just beneath your jaw, and your hands curled in the fabric at his shoulders.

"Always." The word left his lips like a prayer.

His fingers traced the hem of your scrub top, ghosting up your sides like he was overriding any and all memories of anything else other than you. No dissonance. Just Jack, desperate to feel something real in a world that never gave him space to.

You pressed closer, kissed the corner of his mouth. "You taste like that godawful spearmint gum."

He grinned against your skin. "You love it."

Another scoff. "If throwing myself in front of a raging frat boy was all it took to get you to shut up and kiss me, I would've done it ages ago."

Jack pulled back just enough to look at you, smug. "If you do that again, I’m going to make you do my charting for a week."

You snorted. "With pleasure."

He didn’t argue. Just dipped his head and kissed you again.

—

You woke in the on-call room, a mess of tangled limbs and haphazardly strewn clothes. Your cheek pressed to the rise and fall of his chest. The storm had long passed, but its echo lingered in the hush around you. Jack’s arm was slung low around your waist, fingers drawing lazy, absent-minded shapes against your hip like he didn’t know how to stop touching you now that he’d started.

"For what it’s worth, I still think you’re a pain in the ass," you murmured, voice thick with sleep.

His chest rumbled beneath your cheek. "Likewise," he said, but it came out softer than usual.

You shifted just enough to look up at him, your hand brushing gently across his ribs, then settling over his heart. "Don’t get used to this."

His brow arched. "This?" If you looked hard enough, you might have seen worry flash across his face. 

"Me being nice."

Relief painted his expression. He smiled, full and rare. "You’re the one curled into me like a particularly mouthy cat."

You buried your face in his chest. "Shut up."

His fingers tightened slightly at your hip. "Not complaining. Just saying... I could get used to this."

You looked up again, caught the vulnerability flickering there before he blinked it away. Your thumb brushed his jaw, and you leaned in, pressing a slow kiss to the corner of his mouth, a smile blooming in its wake.

"Yeah," you whispered. "Me too."

—

A few weeks and an undetermined number of shifts later, you walked through the double doors of the ER wearing a black hoodie—oversized and unassuming to anyone else, but unmistakable to anyone who knew him.

Robby and Dana spotted it from a mile away. The frayed drawstring, the hole near the front pocket, the faded cuff seams—the one he always reached for when the weather dropped below 60 degrees, too tired to bother, or too raw to pretend. Jack’s favorite and now second most prized possession.

The first being the shirt you wore when you stayed the night for the first time—oversized and soft, probably older than the first year med students—borrowed without asking. He never washed it. Claimed it smelled like you now and he'd keep it that way.

No one said a word.

Except Robby, who walked past and muttered, "Finally." Then, as you and Jack strolled side by side toward the nurses’ station—still bickering, now with smiles tucked behind every jab—he held out a fist to Jack.

Jack bumped it without hesitation.

Robby grinned. "Took you long enough."

"Shut up," you and Jack muttered in unison, but neither of you stopped smiling.

Jack's hand brushed yours between steps, a casual touch that lingered just long enough to say everything he couldn't say out loud in front of witnesses. You let your pinky hook around his for a second before letting go—just a flash of something soft beneath the usual snark.

"Didn't know we allowed pets in the ER," Dana remarked from her chair before looking up through her glasses. "Or are those lovebirds I hear?"

You smirked. "We’re just evolving."

Jack raised a brow. "Into better people?"

"No," you replied. "Into slightly better-functioning disasters. I am, anyway. Jack’s still somewhere between disaster and cryptid."

He bumped your shoulder gently before giving you a playful wink. "Speak for yourself. I was already perfect."

You rolled your eyes but didn’t argue. A smile crept up like second nature. You'd get him next time.

Robby snorted. "God, you two are insufferable."

You turned just enough to shoot him a smug look. "You love it."

He held up his hands in mock surrender. "I do. But if I walk in on you making out in the supply closet, I’m blackmailing both of you. With photos."

Jack didn’t even flinch. "Make sure you get our good angles."

You could definitely get used to this.

[starmaidengarden]

Hello !!

May i request a fic with Jade, Leona, and Floyd where the reader is scared of them and often hides behind someone else when meeting them? Totally not bc i was scared of them back then lmao

Thank you, have a nice day!

—Jade : Leona : Floyd x gn!reader. no cw/tw. dividers: uzmacchiato.

note: sorry this took so long!! but I hope you like it!!

Jade Leech ༉⋆｡˚

At first, Jade finds your fear of him amusing in that quiet, unnerving way he does everything. You hide behind Ace or Deuce every time he appears, and he never misses the chance to smile just a little too pleasantly and say, “Oh? Hiding again? How cruel—I was simply going to say hello.”

He doesn’t get offended. In fact, he’s curious—what was it that made you fear him so much? His gaze? The rumors? His eel nature? He never directly asks, but you get the sense that he already knows.

He starts appearing more often in places you frequent, acting completely harmless, but always with an aura of something off—like he’s trying to prove you right and wrong at the same time.

Over time, he begins to soften his demeanor—his smile becomes a little warmer, his words a bit less cryptic. He’ll still tease, but in smaller, lighter doses. Eventually, if you begin to peek out from behind your “shield” when he’s around, he’ll notice immediately. One day, when you don’t hide fast enough, he’ll gently lean down and whisper with a soft smirk, “I must be doing something right.”

If you start talking to him on your own, expect him to treat it like a delicate animal approaching for the first time. “You’re growing used to my presence. I’m honored.”

Leona Kingscholar ༉⋆｡˚

Leona’s used to people fearing him, but it irritates him when it’s you. He doesn’t understand why you flinch when he walks in or physically hides behind someone else.

At first, he glares and says things like, “Tch. What, I look like I’m gonna bite?” He’s gruff and dismissive, not realizing that his aggression is part of why you’re scared.

Ruggie ends up being your main shield, standing between you and Leona. He always mutters about it—“Babysitting now, Ruggie?”

Eventually, Leona grows restless. Your fear gnaws at his pride. He doesn’t want to be liked, necessarily, but being feared by someone like you—a harmless little mouse who flinches at his voice—annoys him more than he wants to admit.

So he changes tactics. Instead of barking or intimidating, he tries ignoring you completely, hoping you’ll calm down if he acts indifferent. It works better than he expects. You stop hiding as fast. You relax a little when he’s around.

Eventually, one day he catches you not hiding behind anyone. He makes eye contact, raises an eyebrow, and says dryly, “Look at that. Thought you’d pass out if I looked at you too long. You’re getting bolder.”

Floyd Leech ༉⋆｡˚

You hiding from Floyd is like putting gasoline on fire. He finds your reactions hilarious and entertaining from day one.

“Shrimpyyyyy~ why are you hiding again? That’s so boring! C’mon, come out! I wanna squeeze you!” Cue you burying yourself behind anyone nearby.

Floyd’s unpredictable behavior makes it worse. Sometimes he’s giggling. Sometimes he’s staring blankly with wide eyes. Sometimes he drops his voice and gets way too close to your ear just to make you yelp and run.

But beneath the chaos, Floyd’s not trying to be cruel. He’s trying to get a reaction—he thinks your fear is exciting, and in a weird way, it makes you memorable to him.

The more you hide, the more he’s like a cat stalking a laser pointer. But over time, if he sees you genuinely trembling or distressed, the fun drops from his face. “...Not fun when you’re actually scared.”

He starts adjusting. He’ll approach more casually, sometimes even dragging Jade along so you feel “safer” by comparison. He'll offer little things in an oddly sweet way—like a trinket he found or food you like. “For Shrimpy. Don’t scream.”

If you ever thank him, grins wide, and says, “Awww, you’re warming up to me! This is so much better~”

Floyd doesn’t really know how to tone himself down properly, but when you begin to open up just a little, he becomes more affectionate and playful rather than scary. He’ll guard you from others who freak you out—even if it’s something minor. “Only I get to scare Shrimpy.”

[pyrodolls]

MORTAL KOMBAT 1 BOYS JEALOUSY HCS

WARNINGS: almost every male character on the main mk1 roster is included, a little bit of angst here and there, established relationships, some mentions of harassment and assholes not taking no for an answer, gender neutral reader, lowercase intended, you can clearly tell havik is the author's favorite, reader condones havik's actions in his part but author doesn't it's just for story purposes, characters may be ooc idk, not proofread we die like sindel

A/N: i got this idea while i was in the shower this morning blasting what is love by twice cuz i finally got around to the khaos reigns dlc yesterday and my interest in mk1 has been revived. also this took me 10 hours to write for some odd reason. also i've never written this many characters before in one part... please like and reblog i really am proud of this and hope you guys like it too <3 also you can tell the more i was writing the longer the paragraphs were getting

doesn't get jealous (he trusts you):

LIU KANG has full faith in your loyalty. he doesn't take it personally when someone flirts with you. he'll gladly step in if the person flirting with you isn't taking a hint, but overall, he isn't bothered. in fact, he's more concerned about your well-being than his. he'll comfort you after the encounter and ask if there's anything he can do to put your mind at ease.

KUAI LIANG would silently watch the interaction from a distance, waiting for the person to leave you alone. similar to liu kang, he trusts you and gives you the chance to defend yourself before he does. he's confident that you wouldn't leave him, but he still stays nearby in case you need his help. in the event that you do need his assistance in getting rid of the person, he wouldn't hesitate to teach them a quick lesson then evacuate the scene with you.

GERAS couldn't care less. in fact, he isn't surprised you would be hit on. you're physically and socially attractive, it makes sense that other people would attempt to court you. he trusts that you won't let the interaction go any farther. if the person persists or is disrespectful, he'll walk up to you two and bluntly state that you're taken, then leave immediately. he won't waste his time with assholes and perverts.

RAIDEN would feel a little awkward. he trusts you, so it's not that he's unhappy with you, but he feels uncomfortable for you. he's a very calm and civil man, so he usually tries to avoid confrontation. but when it comes to you? especially when the person is making you uncomfortable? he has no problem politely telling that person off and walking away with you. he'll later reassure you by reminding you that assholes and creeps will always be around, but so will he.

doesn't get jealous (because he gives you scary dog privileges):

KENSHI TAKAHASHI wouldn't feel jealous at all if someone were to hit on you. he knows his partner is wonderful, so of course other people are going to approach you. besides, he knows he looks a bit intimidating with his tattoos, muscles, and confident aura. weirdos that flirt with you will back off when they see kenshi casually put his arm around you as you talk to the person, as if he's daring them to try something. his years involved with the yakuza have made him fearless. he has witnessed the wrath of man many times, so he has no issue teaching another one a lesson if he must.

BARAKA is like a guard dog. with his physique and face? yeah, nobody is messing with you or even approaching you. he usually feels very guilty about this, advising you to leave him due to the embarrassment of being associated with him. but sometimes, his curse can be a blessing to ward off perverts. it fills him with a very rare sense of pride, being able to protect you just by standing by you.

GENERAL SHAO definitely gives you scary dog privileges. he's well-respected in outworld, so everyone usually respects you, his partner, as well. this can be a double-edged sword, however. while outworlders often avoid you out of respect, it is also out of fear of the general's wrath. it's hard for you to walk around anywhere without stares or people trembling in fear, afraid to upset you. not because they're intimidated by you, but because the general has made it very clear that if anyone (especially his soldiers) were to treat you with anything but respect, they'll get an axe to the head.

he's instilled this fear into everyone's head, so you aren't harassed when you are alone. the general is often busy with his own endeavors, so he likely won't be there to defend you instantly. that's why he is very strict with his soldiers when it comes to you. you won't need his immediate protection as long as he makes sure everyone follows his rigid commands.

REIKO, similar to the general, has earned respect among outworlders for his strength and tenacity. while you aren't as feared as you would be with the general, reiko still has his ways of making sure you aren't bothered. because unlike the general, he has slightly more time on his hands to accompany you in your free time. when strolling around outworld, it is not uncommon to get a few stares, but reiko is brave enough to stare back at people with the fury of a true warrior. he has the scars on his back and calluses on his hands to prove his fighting spirit that nobody is reckless enough to challenge.

QUAN CHI is either hated, feared, or respected by everyone. nobody is going to mess with you as long as he is around. with his sorcery, he'll have no problem cleaning up the rodents that attempt to flirt with you. you won't even get the chance to reject anyone, since he's always ready to harm anyone that even dares to look at what is his.

BI-HAN, similar to the general, has already warned everyone in the lin kuei of the consequences that come with disrespecting you. he laid out many rules on how they should interact with you. if anyone among the clan dares to break these terms he drilled into their heads, they will be met with a harsh punishment. he won't tolerate rulebreakers.

and that's what he did on the day someone broke his rules and drunkenly flirted with you. the problem is, he would also be angry at you. bi-han firmly believes that you should be strong enough to protect yourself when he isn't there. if the person that was hitting on you starts to go a bit too far, and you are unable to stop them, bi-han ends up blaming you for their actions. despite having a myriad of punishment methods in his mind, he still wants you to fend for yourself anyway. he is upset for weeks after the incident. it is unclear whether bi-han is angry at himself and taking it out on you, or if he is truly delusional enough to blame you for an incident you never asked for.

gets jealous, but handles it rationally:

JOHNNY CAGE is used to people hitting on him. he's sexy, and an actor, which is a dangerous combo to date. he's made it very clear in private that he would never leave or cheat on you for someone else, and he ignores the numerous amounts of supermodels and fellow actors that attempt to date or sleep with him. you've gotten used to it overtime, as you already discussed your boundaries with him. but you two have never discussed what to do if you are the one being hit on.

if someone were to flirt with you in front of him, he'd butt into the conversation, putting his arm around you and saying: "yeah, my partner's smokin' hot, aren't they?"

he'd start to brag about you and the person would probably get annoyed and walk away. you can't tell if johnny was jealous and purposefully drove them away, or if he just wanted to use the opportunity to talk about you at length. perhaps it was both. you'll never know.

KUNG LAO is infamous for being cocky and prideful. some find his confidence charming, others dislike him and read his personality as arrogant rather than confident. so how could kung lao possibly be jealous? well, the answer is: he isn't. or at least that's how he appears.

he's the type of guy to love showing you off. he's protective, but proud. he'll walk around with his arm wrapped around your waist, with his head held high knowing you only belong to him and nobody else. which is why his ego is so hurt when someone has the audacity to hit on you. did they not clearly see that you're together? kung lao is more personally offended than possessive over you. he won't visibly get angry or anything, just mildly annoyed. he'll become touchier, giving you more kisses and compliments than usual. if you questioned his behavior, he'd respond with a playful: "what? am i not allowed to love my partner?" emphasizing the latter end of the sentence for everyone in the room to hear.

gets jealous, and does not handle it rationally:

SHANG TSUNG, similar to kung lao, is prideful enough to enjoy showing you off. but shang tsung tends to be sassier and hold grudges. while he lets you express yourself and wear/do whatever you want, he didn't expect it to backfire when someone ends up being attracted to you and attempting to court you. but he doesn't do anything about it. he stands from afar and waits for your conversation to be over.

you reject the person and go back to him, but shang tsung would spitefully ignore you. he even started responding to you with sassy quips after you were hit on. you could attempt to make amends with him by trying to initiate a conversation, until this little shit rolls his eyes and says something along the lines of: "why don't you go have fun with your partner?"

you'll never know if he's simply overdramatizing his jealousy to hide it, or if he's just being his usual petty self to get a reaction out of you.

TAKEDA TAKAHASHI is a young man focused on his endeavors. it's not that he doesn't care about you, but he (unfortunately) must keep his distance from you sometimes. your relationship is secret for the sake of your safety. nobody knows that you two are together, so it doesn't surprise him that you are flirted with every now and then. takeda does, in fact, feel jealous. he's not just jealous that they get to openly show their affection towards you, but he's also a bit insecure at times. he knows you won't leave him so easily, but there's still the nasty thought that creeps in the back of his head every now and then, telling him that you deserve better and he can't give you the love you deserve.

TOMAS VRBADA is usually a confident man. he may be kind and generous, but that doesn't make him weak. he's been a hardworking fighter since childhood. he's garnered an impressive amount of experience and intelligence regarding the battlefield over time. but romantically? he doesn't have as much experience. you're probably one of, if not the first relationship he's ever been in.

so, when you're hit on, he isn't quite sure what to do. he understands that the person flirting with you probably just doesn't know you're not single. tomas would speak up and calmly mention that you're already taken. the person that was flirting with you would scoff after seeing tomas, telling you something along the lines of: "him? really? you could do better." instead of causing a scene, tomas ignores the person and leaves with you.

but hours later, it still bothers him, even though he pretends it doesn't. he thinks about your relationship and wonders if you really could do better. he tries his best to be as loving as possible towards you, despite his inexperience in romantic relationships. but with his cluelessness, conflict with the lin kuei, and trying to build up the shirai ryu? he doesn't have a lot of time for you, so he understands if you wanted to leave him. it's a thought that will haunt him for days if you don't notice his behavior and ask him about it.

SYZOTH has always been secretly insecure during your relationship. he fears that you may leave him due to his zaterran blood. plus, after his family was killed by shang tsung, he has been afraid of losing you like he lost them. sometimes he fears he is too clingy, and other times he fears he isn't attentive enough. it makes him feel as if he isn't enough for you. these fears are only enabled by someone flirting with you. his mood would immediately turn sour after witnessing that interaction, until you reject that person and put them in their place. as appreciative as he is for your loyalty, (and flustered to hear how much you care about him) he still can't shake his anxieties away.

you'll likely have to comfort him and reassure him that you will always stay with him, not bothered by his struggles. you must be the one to bring it up though, because syzoth is too afraid to admit that he is jealous. he'll keep it bottled up until you notice his behavior.

ZEFFEERO's pride gets in the way of admitting his true feelings most of the time. you've helped make him more comfortable being vulnerable, but it's only natural that the high mage refuses to admit when he's jealous. it was hard enough to court you; even harder to watch as someone attempts to court you for themselves. it annoys him to watch someone think they can just flirt with you. it enrages him even more when they refuse to take no for an answer and persist in their catcalling. with his blood boiling, he struggles to contain his emotions and stop himself from resorting to violence.

after the incident is over and you dealt with it on your own, he refuses to leave your side in public ever again. whatever gathering or meeting you must attend, he'll be there too. that way, it'll ease his anxieties and make sure you are safe and comfortable. even though you've shown you're capable of taking care of yourself and staying loyal to him, his jealousy drives him to believe that you need him.

a secret fifth worse thing:

HAVIK... yeah you probably guessed he'd have an entire category to himself. it is very difficult to tell how havik feels when someone else flirts with you. is he angry at them for trying to take you? not quite. his beliefs are bent on freedom, so it isn't like you're tied down to him in any way. but at the same time, he can't help but feel a bit hurt, maybe even a bit betrayed at the thought of you leaving him. he doesn't have anyone else. he's been forced to fight for himself after a painful past in seido, then seeking retribution ever since. nobody has condoned his acts since drowning its capital. anyone that isn't on his side is considered his enemy. you're the last person he considers an ally.

you're also the only person that sees his vulnerable, traumatized side that he often disguises with anger. his wrath has tormented him for years, driving him to insanity and believing it is okay to kill anyone that opposes him. it was a miracle that you were able to see through his mask of anger and show love and support towards him, which are two things he isn't used to. that's why he can't help but feel irked by someone attempting to court you. you're the only person that has genuinely loved and cared for him, even after the things he has done. now that he's had a taste of what love and affection is like, he's not going to let you leave him that easily.

he tells himself that he doesn't need an ally, and he can help bless millions with anarchy and chaos by himself, but deep down, he still selfishly wants you for himself. he would feel more comfortable in his rebellion with you staying at his side rather than leaving him for someone else. so yes, he does feel jealousy, (and fear that you'll leave him) but he refuses to admit it and conjures up a lie that you need each other, convincing himself of a false idea rather than facing the truth that his strong desires of "freedom" magically go out the window when it comes to you.

[keiiaq]

things to script: soft beauty ˚.🍨༘⋆

hey lovelies!! I have some good news coming up, so I thought i’d share it alongside a small apology.

i’m so sorry I haven’t posted as frequently as I normally do, I haven’t had much motivation on posting and I don’t want to push myself cause i’d most likely get into burnout which sadly takes long for me to recover from 🙁

now, for the good news.. i’m finally getting an ipad !!! i’m super happy about this cause I can now introduce some of my drself art on this account and it’ll be more accessible for me to use rather than having to keep everything on my phone! after this does happen, i’ll also probably change my theme too.

I actually have this for one of my dr’s so I thought i’d share it rather than gatekeep it since I know a lot of you guys enjoy the series :)

⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢

“but I still love you babe. I know I shouldnt, but.”

✿* 🎼 : there’s a softness in you that makes the world hush without even realizing. you feel like quiet meadows, like the breath before a baby animal falls asleep. your presence is tender, warm, and doesn’t need to be loud to be felt. you calm the world like dew on petals or lace-filtered sunlight. your energy is like a forgotten lullaby — gentle, beautiful, and lingering. there’s something rare and comforting in the way you exist. people feel safe near you. they feel like they can rest.

✿* 🍨 : you move like a warm memory, like the scent of something familiar and loving. you’re not fragile, but delicate in a way that makes people want to treat you carefully. you are the kind of soul people don’t forget—not because you asked them to notice you, but because your softness stays in the room even after you leave. your presence makes people speak softer, move gentler, feel deeper. you make chaos slow down. you feel like early morning rain, chamomile fields, and lullabies without words. you remind people of kindness that doesn’t need to be spoken.

✿* 🩰 : you don’t demand anything — you just are, and that’s enough. people lower their voices around you out of respect for how sacred your softness is. your kindness isn’t something you perform. it’s something you radiate. and that softness has gravity. the kind that makes hearts lean in. you’re calm in a loud world. people feel fluttershy in you — not because you mimic her — but because you naturally carry that same sacred gentleness, that same quiet strength. your energy feels like a forest glade where nothing bad can reach.

✿* 🎼 : people don’t just think you’re sweet —they feel held in your presence. your vibe feels like early spring, like a trembling fawn standing up for the first time. you remind people of the warmth of holding something small and alive in their hands and knowing they must be gentle. you have fluttershy’s courage — the soft kind, the kind that stands trembling but still stands. your presence feels like satin wings, like sunlight through lace curtains, like whispering to animals who understand.

✿* 🍨 : your aura is like a love letter written in sparkly gel pen, like the hush after a lullaby, like bedtime stories whispered with too much heart. you remind people of old books with pressed flowers, of honey in warm milk, of whispering “thank you” with a voice that cracks. you are the kind of beauty that doesn’t shout — it glows. people want to protect you without knowing why. you’re the girl who wears lip balm more than lipstick, who says sorry to plush toys when hugging them too tight.

✿* 🩰 : you move like an edit in motion. like an anime lullaby on a rainy day tea party with stuffed animals. your softness doesn’t need to explain itself — it just wraps around people and makes them feel safe. you are vanilla-scented fur and cherry blossom wings. people don’t just see fluttershy in you — they feel her in the way your presence holds them gently. your energy is a whispered wish, a warm blanket, a soft tear from too much love. you're sacred, delicate, unforgettable.

✿* 🎼 : you remind people of whispered dreams, trembling hearts, and warm rooms full of quiet love. you are a flicker of pink in a gray sky, the hush before a vulnerable truth, a pause in someone’s chest that says “this is safe.” you make people want to believe in things again — guardian angels, love notes, and magic in the quiet. people don’t just notice you — they feel softened by you. you’re not loud, but you change the room. you are sweetness that still matters. the kind that heals. the kind that saves. you are this energy. you are this softness. you are this sacred.

✿* 🍨 : this isn’t just “you’re sweet” energy. it’s “you’ve been blessed by something ancient and gentle and people don’t know how to look at you without softening” energy. it’s forest-that-remembers-your-name energy. cottage-wrapped-in-fog energy. you feel like fluttershy if she were real and people accidentally fell in love with her soul.

⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣

thanks for reading!! this was a little lengthy but I just have a super specific mind when it comes to this aesthetic since I luv it sososo much :) the aesthetic and music just resonates with this so well.

happy shifting my lovelies!

[cumironi]

YOU WILL GO DOWN IN HISTORY AS THE WORLDS BIGGEST IDIOT : GOJO SATORU, GETO SUGURU

the first time you meet your senior, GOJO SATORU, GETO SUGURU . . . you think they are the weirdest and most idiots person you've ever met, especially that special kid, gojo satoru.

warning : fluff

w/c : 7,8k | [☆] MASTERLIST

THE FIRST MEETING

you were walking to the mall with yuu haibara and nanami kento, enjoying the break from school and missions. as the three of you strolled down the busy streets, yuu was excitedly chattering about all the things he wanted to do at the mall, when he suddenly said, “oh, by the way, we're meeting some of our upperclassmen today! and i heard you know shoko ieiri?”

you nodded, recalling the times your father made you visit jujutsu high before you officially enrolled. shoko was always there, casually smoking or chatting with some of the older students, and she was one of the first people to welcome you with her relaxed demeanor and dry humor. but as for the others you were supposed to meet today, you didn't really know them—just heard bits and pieces from conversations around school.

“geto suguru and gojo satoru, right?” nanami groaned at the mention of their names, rubbing his temples as if he could already feel a headache coming on. “great, just what we needed... gojo-unbearable-satoru and his sidekick.”

you chuckled, not entirely sure what to expect but amused by nanami's reaction. “are they really that bad?” you asked, curious since you’d only ever heard that they were an insanely strong duo, both special grade sorcerers, which was a big deal considering their age.

“they’re both ridiculously powerful, but gojo is... gojo,” nanami said, his tone dripping with exasperation, “geto’s alright, i guess. but gojo's insufferable.”

as you arrived at the mall, you spotted shoko first, leaning against the wall near the entrance with her phone in one hand and a cigarette in the other. beside her stood two guys who had to be the infamous geto and gojo. geto looked calm, with long hair tied up and a gentle smile on his face. gojo, on the other hand, had that cocky grin and his signature sunglasses, radiating an aura of arrogance even from a distance.

“there they are,” yuu pointed out cheerfully, waving at the trio.

you hesitated for a moment but followed yuu and nanami as they approached the group. shoko spotted you and gave a small wave, her expression softening slightly. “hey, you made it,” she greeted you, her tone as laid-back as ever.

as you and the other first years finally approached, geto and gojo turned their attention toward you all. gojo was the first to speak, eyes hidden behind his dark sunglasses as he shamelessly scanned you from head to toe. he had that smirk—the kind that screamed he thought he was better than everyone else—and he leaned forward, one hand still stuffed casually in his pocket.

“hey, so this is the new kid?” he drawled, his tone light but with an unmistakable hint of mockery. geto nudged him, a silent warning flashing in his eyes, but gojo barely seemed to notice, too caught up in his own amusement.

you raised an eyebrow, already unimpressed. you’d heard all about gojo satoru from your family—the endless talk about his six eyes and his bullshit special grade powers like he was some kind of walking legend. honestly, you’d had enough of that nonsense to last a lifetime.

crossing your arms, you met his smirk with one of your own, not backing down in the slightest. “wow, the great gojo satoru, huh? must be exhausting, carrying around all that ego,” you shot back, your voice dripping with sarcasm, “heard so much about you—mostly that you’re just an arrogant prick with some fancy eyes.”

gojo blinked, a flicker of surprise breaking through his smug expression, but it quickly turned into a grin. “oh, i like this one,” he said, clearly entertained by your sass. “she’s got some fire.” nanami and yuu couldn't believe what they were hearing, their eyes widening at your boldness. gojo, however, seemed to delight in the fact that you were snapping back at him instead of cowering away like most people did.

he leaned in closer, a sly smile on his lips as he looked down at you, his sunglasses hiding his eyes but the mischief in them was palpable, “well, well, well... the little first year has some bite.” geto watched with amusement, leaning against the wall and hiding a smirk behind his hand.

geto chuckled softly, giving you a knowing look as if to say he was used to this kind of reaction toward gojo. “don’t mind him,” geto said, his tone much gentler, “he likes to push buttons.”

“yeah, well, he’s not pushing mine,” you said with a shrug, refusing to let gojo’s attitude get to you. you weren’t about to be intimidated by some guy who thought he was untouchable. if he wanted to play that game, you’d play right back, with just as much sass and zero tolerance for his bullshit.

gojo laughed, a sound that was as arrogant as it was charming. he liked you. you were different from other people he’d met, and to say he was pleasantly surprised would be an understatement.

“oh, i like this one,” he repeated, his smile widening. “she’s not scared of me, suguru. it’s refreshing.” geto chuckled again, shaking his head slightly, “yeah, she's not intimidated by your god complex,“ he teased.

as the six of you strolled through the mall, browsing shops and occasionally stopping when something caught yuu’s eye, you couldn’t help but notice how geto and gojo kept glancing at you, their heads tilting toward each other as they whispered and smirked like they were sharing some inside joke. it was irritating, really—especially gojo, who seemed to be making it his personal mission to get under your skin.

you tried your best to ignore them, pretending to be engrossed in whatever store display was nearby, but you could feel their eyes on you, that smug energy radiating off of gojo like a beacon. he’d throw out little comments here and there, light jabs that were clearly meant to see if you’d react.

“so, what’s your deal, huh?” gojo suddenly said, breaking the conversation you were having with nanami about some new movie. he fell into step beside you, leaning in with that same annoying smirk. “you’ve got quite the attitude for a first year. something to prove, maybe?”

you rolled your eyes, not even bothering to look at him as you continued walking. “and you’ve got quite the mouth for someone who’s supposed to be ‘all-powerful,’” you shot back, keeping your tone casual but laced with a bite, “maybe try using it for something other than annoying people for once.”

geto snickered softly from behind, clearly entertained by your responses, while gojo just grinned wider, like he was enjoying every second of your defiance. “oh, come on, don’t be like that,” gojo said, pretending to pout. “we’re just trying to get to know you. you’re kinda fun when you’re not glaring at us.”

the entire time, yuu was stuck between looking like an excited kid in a candy store and watching the interaction between you and gojo like he was watching a tennis match. seeing someone stand up to gojo’s arrogance was a rare sight, especially for someone as much younger as you.

nanami, on the other hand, was simply exhausted by the whole thing, his eyes narrowed as he looked at gojo and muttered something that sounded like ‘annoying prick.’ while gojo continued his verbal banter, geto quietly watched.

“yeah, fun,” you muttered, your patience wearing thin, “or maybe i just have a low tolerance for bullshit.” gojo laughed, the sound loud and obnoxious, drawing a few stares from passersby. “guess we’ll just have to see how low that tolerance really is,” he teased, nudging geto, “bet i can make them snap by the end of the day.”

you stopped walking, finally turning to face him with an unimpressed look. “oh, please,” you said, voice dripping with sarcasm. “if you think i’m gonna lose my cool over some smug, overconfident special grade who thinks the world revolves around him, you’re in for a long day, gojo.”

for a split second, you thought you saw a flicker of surprise in his eyes, but he quickly covered it with another grin. geto chuckled again, nudging gojo as if to tell him to ease up. “looks like you’ve met your match, satoru.”

“yeah, yeah,” gojo waved him off, still smirking. “but that’s what makes it interesting, right?” you just rolled your eyes again, turning away from them to continue walking. if gojo thought he was gonna get the better of you, he was sorely mistaken. you weren’t about to give him the satisfaction of seeing you snap—not today, not ever.

by now, nanami was silently rooting for you not to let gojo get under your skin. yuu was practically vibrating with excitement, enjoying the spectacle like it was a circus show. and geto—geto was clearly entertained, barely holding back a smile behind his hand as he watched you brush off gojo’s attempts to rile you up.

despite your outwardly unbothered demeanor, gojo was not about to back down. he loved a challenge, and there was something about your attitude that intrigued him.

so he continued, throwing out more snide comments and subtle jabs.

YOU AND GAKUGANJI'S GUITAR

ever since that first meeting at the mall, geto and gojo had made it their mission to annoy you every single day. they always found a way to tease you or mess with you, and it felt like they had some kind of radar for whenever you were in a decent mood, swooping in just to ruin it. and it didn’t help that your classmates started hanging out with them more, dragging you into their chaos whether you liked it or not.

you’d tried to brush them off, but they were relentless—gojo especially, always throwing some sarcastic comment or smug remark your way, while geto would watch with an amused smile, occasionally adding his own little quip that was just enough to push your buttons. it was like a game to them, and you were the unwilling participant.

one afternoon, you’d finally had enough and decided to take some time alone, venturing into the forest to clear your head. you needed some peace, some quiet, and more than anything, a break from those two idiots who always seemed to find you no matter where you went. but it wasn’t just for relaxation; you were digging for something with a shovel in hand, trying to keep your mind focused and away from the usual annoyances. the quiet, the solitude—it was exactly what you needed.

you were deep into your task, almost losing track of time, when suddenly you heard a voice behind you—smooth and way too familiar.

“what’re you digging for, a body?” geto’s voice rang out, and before you could even register it, you jumped, letting out a scream as the shovel slipped from your grasp and clattered to the ground. your heart raced, and you whipped around to find geto standing there, his expression half-amused, half-surprised at your reaction. geto and gojo stood there, both grinning like they’d just won the lottery. gojo was barely holding back laughter, while geto wore that usual smug smile, clearly pleased with himself for catching you off guard.

“damn it, geto!” you snapped, pressing a hand to your chest to steady your breathing. “are you trying to give me a heart attack? what the hell are you doing here?”

gojo snickered, leaning against a tree with that same insufferable grin. “we were just taking a walk and saw you out here,” he said, clearly not sorry at all. “but now i’m curious—what are you digging for? burying evidence or something?”

you huffed, quickly realizing that your attempts to have a moment of peace were quickly being ruined by the two special grades who had a habit of making your life more difficult.

you crossed your arms, trying to regain your composure and glare at them defiantly, but your heart was still racing from being startled. “none of your business,” you grumbled, turning away to pick up the shovel.

gojo snickered again, leaning against the tree and looking like he was enjoying himself way too much. “aww, no need to be so defensive,” he teased. geto’s eyes flicked to the electric guitar lying on the ground near the hole you were digging, and he immediately recognized it. a smirk tugged at his lips as he leaned closer, arms folded casually.

“is that gakuganji’s guitar?” geto asked, his tone filled with amusement.

your movements froze instantly, your back still to them, slightly bent over as you were mid-dig. the tension in the air shifted, and even gojo raised an eyebrow, the smirk on his face growing wider as he realized the significance of geto’s question.

you let out a frustrated sigh, your gaze darting between geto and gojo as you tried to keep your composure. the shovel felt heavy in your hand, and you shifted uncomfortably, suddenly very aware of how ridiculous this all looked.

“it’s not his guitar,” you said, forcing yourself to sound casual despite the nervous tremor in your voice. you avoided eye contact, focusing on the ground as if it held the answers to your predicament. “i—uh, I just found it here.”

geto raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying your story, while gojo’s grin grew even wider, clearly relishing the situation. “oh really?” geto said, his tone skeptical. “just found it, huh? out here in the middle of nowhere?”

gojo let out a barking laugh, unable to contain his amusement any longer. "oh, this is rich," he snickered, clearly enjoying your obvious lie.

geto chuckled softly, shaking his head in disbelief. “seriously? you really think we’d believe that?” he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “out here, in the middle of the forest, you just happened to stumble upon the esteemed gakuganji’s prized guitar?”

gojo leaned against the tree again, still snickering. “nice try, but you’re gonna have to do better than that.” you scowled, feeling your patience snap as gojo and geto continued to mock you. their laughter and disbelief were grating on your nerves, and you couldn’t hold back your frustration any longer.

“fine,” you snapped, turning to face them fully with a fierce glare. “it is his guitar. that old bitch was pissing me off today and i hate him, so i took it. happy now?”

a moment of shocked silence followed your admission, the duo clearly not expecting such a straightforward response.

gojo’s laughter faded as he stood up straight, his smirk becoming more intrigued than mocking. “seriously?” he said, his eyes flickering between you and the guitar. “you really took his guitar just to mess with him? that’s ballsy.”

geto stayed quiet for a moment, eyeing you with a mix of surprise and admiration. “you really don’t like being pushed around, do you?” you crossed your arms and scowled at the two of them, clearly fed up with their reactions but unable to mask your irritation.

“hey, he was a bitch, okay?” you snapped. “he’s just lucky i only took his guitar and didn’t yank out all those hairs on his face. i’ve got more patience than he deserves.” gojo's grin returned, wider than before, clearly impressed by your audacity. “damn, you really don't hold back, do you?” he chuckled.

geto chuckled softly as well, shaking his head with a mix of amusement and disbelief. “never a dull moment with you around,” he muttered.

you shrugged, focusing on your digging as if the ground was the most fascinating thing you’d ever seen. “yeah, well, some of us don’t have time for polite small talk,” you said with a hint of a smile. “i prefer getting things done, even if it means ruffling a few feathers.”

you gave them a quick glance before returning to your work, feeling a bit more at ease now that you knew they weren’t completely against you.

despite their initial surprise, gojo and geto chuckled, clearly enjoying your defiant attitude. they exchanged amused glances.

“ruffling feathers is an understatement, i think,” gojo said, leaning back against the tree again. “you're more like a tornado that just blows through everything in sight.”

geto nodded in agreement, his smirk softening into a smile. “but it's definitely entertaining.” gojo snickered, leaning against the tree once more. “feisty, rude, and unpredictable,” he noted. “you're definitely a unique one, that's for sure.”

geto chuckled softly, looking at you with a hint of admiration in his gaze. “looks like there's more to you than meets the eye,” he said, a small smirk playing on his lips. you rolled your eyes, feigning annoyance at their comments, but deep down, a small part of you was secretly enjoying the attention. it was the first time they'd actually given you a compliment—even if it was backhanded—and it didn't completely suck.

“oh, please,” you muttered, digging with more force than needed. “don't suddenly start being nice to me—it's weird.”

but gojo just chuckled, undeterred by your dismissive tone. “oh, we're not being nice,” he teased. “we're just stating facts.”

geto nodded in agreement, a smile still on his face. “like it or not, you've caught our attention,“ he said, his tone playful. “you're not easy to ignore, you know.” you turned to face them, your cheeks flushed with a mix of irritation and embarrassment. your glare was as sharp as you demanded, “what’s that supposed to mean?”

gojo shrugged casually, clearly enjoying the effect his words were having on you. “it means you're interesting,” he said with a smirk. “we keep an eye on things that pique our interest.”

geto leaned against a tree opposite to gojo, his arms crossed as he added, “and you, y/n, have definitely piqued our interest.” you felt your eyes widen, and your cheeks started to heat up as the realization sank in. “shut up,” you muttered, trying to sound annoyed but unable to completely hide the embarrassment in your voice.

gojo chuckled, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “aw, looks like someone's blushing,” he teased, his smirk growing wider.

geto's smile turned into a soft chuckle as he watched you try to brush off their comments. “it's cute when you get flustered,” he remarked, his tone light and playful. you grumbled under your breath, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks as gojo and geto’s teasing continued. their comments were starting to get on your last nerve, and you were done playing along.

“yeah, yeah, laugh it up,” you muttered, barely hiding your irritation as you turned away from them.

without another word, you took the shovel and, with a determined swing, cut the guitar in two. the sound of the wood cracking echoed through the forest, and you threw the broken pieces into the hole, your actions rough and deliberate.

“take that, you old bitch,” you mumbled to yourself as you covered the hole with dirt, clearly imagining it was gakuganji’s neck you were burying instead.

gojo and geto stood there, watching your dramatic display with a mix of surprise and admiration. they had expected you to be defiant, but your fierce determination took them by surprise.

as the sound of the guitar splitting echoed through the forest, they exchanged amused glances. gojo's smirk widened, while geto chuckled, clearly entertained by your boldness. geto spoke up first, his voice filled with amusement. "that was certainly a... unique way to say 'fuck you,' wasn't it?"

gojo watched you with a mix of fascination and surprise, his usual smirk softened by a look of genuine admiration. he could practically hear his heart pounding in his ears as he took in your fierce, unapologetic display. it was like you had turned the whole situation into a dramatic, personal statement, and it had a profound effect on him.

his eyes were fixed on your form, and he felt a rush of excitement that he couldn't quite ignore. for a moment, the teasing and playful facade melted away, replaced by a deeper, more intense emotion. the raw intensity of your reaction had hit him harder than he expected, and he was almost afraid you’d notice just how much it affected him.

gojo nodded absentmindedly, still caught up in the rapid beat of his own heart. “yeah,” he said, his voice quieter than usual. “definitely one for the books.”

geto's smile widened as he noticed the subtle change in gojo's demeanor. he saw the way his smirk faded into something more sincere and felt the shift in the air. he knew gojo well enough to recognize when something had piqued his interest, and your defiant display had certainly done just that.

he glanced at gojo, a knowing look in his eyes, before turning his gaze back to you. “careful, satoru,” he teased, a sly smile on his lips. “you're looking a little smitten over there.”

you noticed gojo’s reaction before you heard geto’s teasing remark. the slight pink in his cheeks and the way his posture seemed a bit more tense caught your attention. even though you couldn’t see his eyes behind the dark glasses, you could tell from the way his expression had shifted that something was definitely different.

you gave gojo a look of disgust, clearly unimpressed by his sudden change in demeanor. “seriously?” you said, your voice dripping with annoyance. “what’s wrong with him?”

geto chuckled, enjoying the fact that you had noticed gojo's unease. he loved to see his friend squirm, especially when it came to matters of the heart.

"aw, don't be so hard on him,” he teased. “he's just experiencing some... unexpected emotions, that's all.” gojo shot geto a dirty look, silently signaling him to shut up, but geto just snickered and ignored his silent plea.

you maintained your disgusted expression as you took in the interaction between geto and gojo. yhe way geto was teasing gojo and the evident discomfort it caused him only added to your irritation.

“weirdo,” you muttered, shaking your head as you tossed the shovel to the ground with a clatter. you turned on your heel and started walking away, clearly done with the whole situation and eager to put some distance between yourself and the bizarre scene.

as you walked off, you could still hear geto’s laughter behind you, but you chose to ignore it, focusing instead on finding some semblance of normalcy away from their antics.

gojo's eyes followed you as you walked away, his demeanor still a mix of surprise and mild mortification.

“great,” he muttered, his voice laced with annoyance. “thanks for that, suguru.”

geto just shrugged, his smirk still in place. “what? i was just being honest. it's not my fault you have a thing for the feisty ones.” gojo shot geto another glare, his cheeks still slightly pink. “shut up,” he muttered, sounding more embarrassed than angry.

geto chuckled again, clearly enjoying the situation a bit too much. “oh come on, don’t deny it. i saw the look on your face. you were practically swooning.”

“i’m not,” gojo retorted, his voice coming out more defensive than he intended.

“you are,” geto insisted, grinning widely.

“i’m not,” gojo said again, his tone more strained as he tried to maintain his composure.

geto’s grin only widened at gojo’s weak protestations. he knew he had struck a nerve.

“oh, come on. you can’t fool me,” he said, his voice dripping with mockery. “i know the look of a smitten man when i see one. and you, my friend, are wearing it loud and clear.”

TREE AND TWO PARASITE

you sat under the tree, savoring the shade and the cool breeze against your skin. the popsicle in your hand was a perfect escape from the relentless heat, and you eagerly opened the package, snapping the plastic off with a quick twist. the moment the cold, sweet treat touched your tongue, a satisfied moan escaped your lips, the icy chill instantly refreshing.

you leaned back against the tree trunk, enjoying your brief moment of peace. you were supposed to be training with yaga’s curse doll, but you couldn’t be bothered—combat practice was the last thing you felt like doing today. you were perfectly content to hide out here, enjoying your popsicle and the quiet, far from yaga’s stern instructions and that annoying doll.

just as you were getting comfortable, you heard rustling nearby, but you ignored it, too caught up in the bliss of your popsicle to care who might be approaching.

as you were lost in the bliss of your moment, the sound of footsteps approached, followed by familiar voices. before you could even react, gojo and geto appeared out of nowhere, their presence instantly breaking your peaceful escape.

you groaned in annoyance, already expecting some kind of teasing from them. but what you didn’t expect was gojo leaning down with that stupid smirk of his and snatching your popsicle right out of your hand. without a second thought, he put it in his mouth, his grin widening as he enjoyed the stolen treat.

“are you serious?” you snapped, glaring up at gojo, who was clearly pleased with himself. the audacity of it made your blood boil, and you could see geto trying to stifle a laugh beside him, clearly enjoying the show.

“come on, satoru,” geto chuckled, giving him a playful shove. “you’re really gonna steal a popsicle from her?”

gojo just winked, still savoring the cold treat. “what? sharing is caring, right?” he said, voice muffled slightly by the popsicle, as if that made his actions any less infuriating. your annoyance only grew as geto chimed in, clearly finding the situation hilarious. gojo’s cocky demeanor made you want to punch him in his smug face.

you crossed your arms, glaring daggers at him. “oh, come on,” you snapped. “that’s mine!”

but gojo just chuckled, shamelessly enjoying his stolen popsicle. “finders keepers,” he said through his smug smile, his fingers holding loosely around your popsicle.

you huffed, eyes narrowing at gojo as he shamelessly continued to enjoy your popsicle. the audacity was enough to make your blood boil, and you were done playing along with their annoying antics. without missing a beat, you reached over and snatched the popsicle right out of gojo’s hand, earning a surprised look from him.

“this is mine,” you said firmly, taking a deliberate lick of the popsicle as if to prove your point. “if you want one, buy it yourself.” your glare dared him to argue, and you could see geto stifling a laugh at gojo’s expense.

gojo couldn't hide his surprise at your boldness. he had expected you to protest and whine, not take back your popsicle with such determination. and the way you took a defiant lick, without a care in the world, was both irritating and admirable.

he glanced at geto, clearly annoyed at the amused look on his friend's face. gojo opened his mouth to say something, but geto beat him to it.

“oh, looks like she’s not messing around,” he teased, a wide grin on his face. you rolled your eyes at geto’s comment, not in the mood to entertain their teasing any longer. with a deep sigh, you finally turned your attention to them, still holding your popsicle like a prized possession. “why are you guys even here?” you asked, annoyance lacing your tone.

as they sat down, you noticed gojo positioning himself beside you—way too close for comfort. you didn’t even realize how close until your shoulder brushed against his. you flinched slightly, your personal space suddenly feeling invaded.

gojo, seemingly unfazed, leaned back casually, his shoulder still lightly pressed against yours. “what, can’t we just hang out?” he said with that insufferable smirk, as if he owned the world and everything in it.

geto leaned back against the tree, clearly enjoying the dynamic. “yeah, we figured you could use some company, y’know? since you’re so ‘busy’ running from training,” he added with a chuckle.

you shot gojo a quick glare, scooting away just a bit to reclaim some space. “if i wanted company, i wouldn’t be hiding out here,” you mumbled, taking another lick of your popsicle, as if to reclaim the moment they interrupted.

as you shifted away to maintain at least a hint of personal space, gojo’s smirk only widened. he chuckled at your attempt to distance yourself, clearly enjoying your stubborn defiance.

“aww, don’t be like that,” he teased, leaning in closer again. “you know you love our company.”

geto just chuckled and shook his head, finding the whole scene amusing. “he has a point, y/n,” he joked. “we’re pretty entertaining, you have to admit that.” you let out an exasperated sigh, rolling your eyes as gojo leaned in even closer, completely disregarding your obvious need for space. you turned your head, giving him a flat, unimpressed look before shifting your gaze to geto, who seemed all too amused by the whole situation.

“no, you two are not entertaining,” you snapped, your voice dripping with sarcasm. “if anything, you two are going to go down in history as the world’s biggest idiots.”

you took another defiant bite of your popsicle, savoring the cold sweetness while ignoring the way gojo’s shoulder brushed against yours yet again. gojo’s smirk morphed into a full grin, not at all bothered by your insult. in fact, he seemed to thrive on your defiant attitude. he leaned in even closer, his shoulder still pressing against yours despite your obvious discomfort.

“oh, wow. harsh,” he remarked, his voice dripping with amusement. “aren’t you just a ray of sunshine today?”

geto chuckled and chimed in, clearly enjoying the exchange. “yeah, you do seem a bit prickly today, y/n. what’s got you in such a grumpy mood?” you raised an eyebrow, fixing both gojo and geto with a serious, unamused expression. their teasing was getting old, and you weren’t in the mood for their games. gojo’s smug grin and geto’s easy laughter only fueled your irritation.

“seriously?” you said flatly, your gaze shifting between the two of them. “you two are the reason.”

you held their stare, refusing to back down or give them the reaction they were fishing for. “maybe if you both found something better to do than annoy me every chance you get, i wouldn’t be in such a ‘grumpy mood,’” you added, your tone laced with sarcasm.

gojo chuckled in response to your flat tone, clearly loving the fact that he was getting under your skin. “aww, don’t blame us for your bad mood,” he said, his voice oozing with mock innocence. “we’re just here to brighten your day.”

geto chimed in, his smirk mirroring gojo’s. “yeah, we’re just spreading a bit of joy and cheer.” the two of them chuckled at each other, obviously enjoying the effect they were having on you.

you rolled your eyes, thoroughly annoyed by their nonchalant attitude. “yeah, because being a major pain in my ass is such a great way to spread joy and cheer.”

gojo’s smirk only grew wider at your biting remark. he found your feisty side downright amusing. “oh, come on. you know you love it when we annoy you.” geto chimed in, clearly enjoying the exchange. “yeah, your grumpy little huffs and eye rolls are the highlight of my day.”

gojo chuckled, his smirk still firmly in place. “and don’t forget your adorable little scowls,” he added, his voice filled with mockery. you let out a heavy sigh, your patience wearing thin with their constant teasing. “so annoying,” you mumbled under your breath, leaning back against the tree with an exaggerated roll of your eyes.

despite your words, there was a small part of you that didn’t mind their company as much as you pretended to. but admitting that, even to yourself, was a hit to your pride that you weren’t willing to take.

you crossed your arms and stared up at the sky, trying to ignore the way gojo’s presence lingered too close, and how geto’s laugh seemed to fill the space around you. it was frustrating how they managed to worm their way into your day, no matter how hard you tried to keep your distance.

gojo chuckled at your mumbled complaint, not buying your exasperated act for a second. he had known you long enough to catch the subtle hints that you weren’t as annoyed as you were trying to appear.

he leaned in even closer, his shoulder still touching yours. “aww, don’t be like that. you know you love having us around.”

geto chuckled at the exchange, clearly enjoying the back and forth between the two of you. “yeah, admit it. we’re the best part of your day.” you couldn’t help but chuckle, a small, genuine smile tugging at your lips despite your best efforts to stay annoyed. you shook your head slightly, glancing between the two of them, their expectant faces so full of mischief and teasing.

“yeah, right,” you scoff, rolling your eyes playfully but unable to keep the warmth out of your voice. they both grinned, knowing they had managed to break through your defenses, even if just a little.

gojo and geto exchanged a knowing glance, clearly pleased with themselves for making you crack a smile. they knew they were slowly chipping away at your stubborn exterior.

gojo leaned in even closer, his arm brushing against yours. “see, you do like having us around,” he said with a smirk, enjoying the way he was able to get under your skin without even trying. geto chuckled and nodded in agreement. “yeah, we’re growing on you like a fungus.”

you rolled your eyes, trying to ignore the heat creeping up your cheeks as gojo leaned even closer, his presence both irritating and oddly comforting.

“please, shut up,” you muttered, turning your gaze away, but the slight upturn of your lips betrayed your attempt to seem unbothered. gojo and geto shared a knowing look, both of them clearly amused by your reaction. they could tell that you were trying to hide your feelings, but they weren’t buying it for a second. the way your cheeks blushed gave you away.

“aww, look at that,” gojo teased, his smirk widening. “our little grouch is blushing.” geto chuckled and nodded. “yeah, i bet she secretly loves our company.”

you let out a huff, deciding not to dignify their teasing with a response. instead, you shifted slightly between them, settling onto the grass and lying down with your back to grass. closing your eyes, you block out their smug expressions, feeling the warmth of the sun on your face.

“i’m going to take a nap,” you announced, your voice muffled by the wind. “be useful for once and don’t let yaga find me.” they can clearly see the exhausted in your face, the bag under your eyes. their heart softens as they take the sight of you between them, deciding to stop teasing you for a while and let you rest.

gojo and geto exchanged a brief look at your sudden change in behavior. they could both pick up on your exhaustion, the bags under your eyes all the tell-tale sign that you hadn’t been getting enough rest.

they both silently agreed to back off on the teasing for the moment, knowing you needed a break. gojo sat back a bit, giving you some breathing room, while geto settled on his back, resting his arms behind his head. “alright, get some rest,” gojo said, his voice softer than usual. “we’ll keep an eye out for yaga.”

the two of them settled into a comfortable silence, both of them quietly observing you as you laid between them, your eyes closed in exhaustion.

gojo quietly observed your sleeping face, taking in the way your features looked uncharacteristically relaxed in sleep. he found himself thinking, for a moment, how oddly peaceful you looked when you weren’t bickering with him.

geto glanced over at gojo, noticing the soft look on his face, and chuckled quietly to himself. he had seen that look before and he knew exactly what it meant.

[zenmiren]

sypnosis: when you receive no gifts during valentines day, your friends, satoru gojo, and suguru geto decide they need to cheer you up.

pairing: satosugu x gn!reader

content: fluff, no angst, but reader sulks a lot, gojo's kinda a bully... , takes place in 2006

this is really short and honestly feels kind of rushed. 💔💔

i also posted the draft by accident so i had to make it private for like 30 minutes while i finished it whooppsiieee

likes and reblogs are appreciated!!!

valentines day was a day that was heavily anticipated by loving couples all around the world, but for people who didn't have a special someone, it was a day to dread.

you were.. especially.. painfully single.

it was a known fact that your friend group was full of attractive people, you could also say that you were definitely attractive.. so you didn't understand why no one was ballsy enough to give you a gift.

shoko got around 15 chocolates from different admirers, not really a shocker, she was incredibly fine. haibara got around 3.. even NANAMI got one..

you dreaded to see how many gojo and geto had received, considering that both of them were popular with ladies, especially geto.

you, shoko, haibara, and nanami waited for the duo to show up at the usual meeting spot.

you four heard the familiar voices and turned to the direction they were coming from... gojo and geto both held WAGONS full of chocolates that they received throughout the day. it must have been heavy because they were both REALLY late to the assigned time to hang out.

"hey guys!!" gojo excitedly waved over as geto gave you a pitiful smile at seeing your empty hands.

"sorry we're late." geto apologised as gojo grins "yeah! these take waaayy too long to haul around everywhere!" gojo chimed in, talking about the mountain of gifts he received.

haibara had a bright smile on his face "woaaahh!! you guys got so much!!" haibara exclaimed as nanami sweatdropped.

"weeell.. you know, it's kinda expected, since we're so-" gojo flaunted around his chocolates before he stopped to raise a brow at you as he sees you averting your gaze to anywhere but their full wagons. "where's your chocolate, [name]?" he raised a brow, the corners of his lips rise up, curling into a nasty smirk.

geto hit him on the side of the arm and shoko shot him a warning glare. "i don't wanna talk about it." you huffed as he giggled under his breath.

"your really pouting cause you didn't get anything?"

".. 'm not pouting."

"d'awwwwhh, you're totally pouting! seriously! how'd you get fewer chocolates than NANAMI? " nanami glared at gojo's words as gojo laughed.. he was the only one laughing.

geto cleared his throat "thats enough, satoru." he spoke, his usually calm deep voice could be heard as he diffused gojo's teasing, before he smiled down at you.

𝜗𝜚

a whole day, and the only chocolates you received were ONE from a teacher, and that was just because she was handing them out to everyone during class.

you sat with both gojo and geto in the cafeteria after the school day was over. shoko, nanami, and haibara already went back to the student dorms, but you three stayed back cause you wanted to keep hanging out.

gojo and geto watched as you consistently checked your appearance with your compact mirror. gojo was amused, geto felt bad for you.

"do you think it's the way i styled my hair today..? but this is how it always is, i didn't do anything special... do people not like my hair?" you had a comical aura of dread around you as you buried your face in your arms, effectively using them as pillows.

"that might not be it.." geto placed a large hand on your shoulder. "i'm sure people are just too blind to see how pretty you are"

"unngghhh.." you groaned in frustration as gojo bust out laughing.

"seriously, why do you care so much about valentines day, it's just a stupid holiday where people give each other cheesy gifts to show their love." satoru spoke with a shit eating smirk on his face.

"no one loves me.. i'll be alone forever..."

geto sighed while gojo laughed again "c'mon [name] it's not the end of the world, stop being so melodramatic!" gojo wrapped a lanky arm around your shoulder while geto patted your other one since you sat sandwiched between them.

"that's easy for you to say.. you have like 10 million girls giving you gifts.." you mumbled as geto smiles a bit

"10 million is a bit excessive.." geto starts "if it makes you feel any better, none of those girls really gave us those gifts because they really like us. i'm not interested in any of them and neither is satoru, all those girls are shallow and only care about appearance."

gojo nods along "thats totally true, but i honestly appreciate the chocolates, i never read the letters i get." he shrugs

"atleast people think you guys are attractive..."

gojo snickers when he sees your pout and geto only sighed in response.

"c'mon" geto stands up, gojo following right after "we'll drop you off to your dorm."

𝜗𝜚

the walk back to your dorm was uneventful, it was just the two boys talking while you listened.

when you unlocked the door to your dorm, you weren't shocked to find it empty, your room mate was probably out with their partner.

you stepped in and so did gojo and geto. "geee i always love being in your dorm [name], it always smells so frickin good" gojo belly flopped on the couch, leaving his wagon in the middle of the living area while geto hummed in agreement, sitting politely down on the smaller couch.

"oh? yeah, i just use a bunch of yankee candles" you shrugged as geto perked up "i have a bunch of yankee candles" he spoke up as gojo raised a brow "yankee? weird name.."

you three hung out in the living area for a while longer before gojo and geto glanced at eachother, and geto simply nodded.

"hey, [name]." gojo stood up, rolling his wagon over to you, and geto did the same. "we have a little gift for you."

you stared up at both of them in confusion "...?" they both had to stop themselves from cooing at the cute face you made.

"you complained all day about not getting anything, so... look at aaaall these girls, giving you gifts!" satoru proudly grinned, urging to both of the wagons.

"... those are YOUR gifts." you deadpanned.

"not anymore." geto picked up one of the heart-shaped boxes and tapped at the label.

"dear geto [last name], happy valentines!"

was what it said on the label.

"wh-wha... that was there the whole time??!!" you exclaimed in shock as they both chuckled at your reaction.

"i'm surprised you didn't notice it sooner.." geto crossed his arms. "... with how intently you kept staring at our gifts, me and satoru were sure our plan would be foiled"

you urgently looked through the wagons.. all the labels, all the love letters, they had all been replaced with YOUR name! even the love letters that had specific details about gojo or geto's appearance had been changed to match your appearance instead. just.. how much effort had they put into all of this...?

"you guys.. really did all of this just for me?"

"no, we did it for mei mei. of COURSE we did it for you." gojo rolled his eyes, recieving a slap to the back of the head by his best friend.

"do you like the gift?" suguru softly smiled at you, and you nodded intently, a small smile of your own, accompanied by a light pink blush on your face

"yeah.. thanks."

gojo did a victory dance, proud of him and geto for making you happy, geto side eyed him before he chose to just ignore it and focus on you instead.

you had a long night that night.. (they slept with you sandwiched between them on your bed, and you could barely breathe... pervert.)

BONUS:

13th february, 2006

suguru sighs as his hands were stuffed in his pockets, meanwhile satoru looked proud. the two walked around campus.

"is that all the guys?" suguru mumbled and satoru nodded.

"mhm! we talked to all the people that have crushes on [name], they won't approach them tomorrow, i made sure of it."

"don't you think what were doing is a bit insane?"

"insane.. controlling.. manipulative, c'mon, it's all worth it if it's for [name].. besides your the one that agreed to this. you don't get to back out now."

"... whatever."

[ For context, they basically threatened all the people that have crushes on you so they can be sure that their valentines gift is extra romantic...]

author note: i know it's not valentines day anymore. I DONT GIVE A SHEETTT

[tarotbyjam24]

Pick a card :What do people say about you at back of you ?

Disclaimer: this is general reading . It may or may not resonate . If reading doesn't resonate let it fly and choose another pile or simply there were no messages for you through this reading 😊 Take the reading lightly as nothing's set in stone until you believe so 🕊️

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Masterlist \pick a cards feedbacks piggy bank

pile 1 pile 2 pile 3

This reading has been in my drafts since Feb 3 NGL this pac sucked whole energy out of me :)

Pile 1

Ace of swords reverse Six of pentacles King of swords Three of cups reverse King of cups reverse

Right off you give they ate and left no crumbs energy to people. You can be the most sarcastic person ever but plus point is that you've calm personality lol . You are person who likes to be private and not put your nose into other's matters . You don't like to have cloudy thinking for yourself and because of others . You may even think that what's the point of giving off my energy to others when it doesn't even matter to them . You're not type of person who cries or gets for their lover after breakup . You give yourself solace and say that happened for my and their best , for better things coming towards us and to become the better versions of ourselves. You're big on LESSONS LEARNT AND MOVE ON ENERGY. You take the rest and nurture needed while prepping for your next hit . You're also always in constantly moving energy . You don't like static-ness in your life .

I'll say you have this giving energy to you but you don't like it to give to wrong persons . You only give your kindness , help to those which are indeed in need like you can't be easily get scammed by people for your kindness . You know how is real and who is faking the cry for help. You also own this aura to yourself which attracts people to you . You come off as open minded person and someone who has a great sense of discernment too . Annd if somebody has won your heart not saying romantically but in generally probably like a cute kid smiled at you you will just want to shower that kid with all the love you have and with everything their parents allow you to haha . You're genuinely kind but don't wanna take advantage of it that's why you put this cold demeanor to you through your outfits and facial expressions . Sometimes you may also do partiality with people and don't think about end results that much .

People say that deep down you may feel bad for others and cry silently about it when noone is watching you . You've this lover energy to you which makes you want to be close with other's but then you remember ohh you're meant to be alone and cold . Cancel this plan of being with someone I must enjoy my loneliness. People also say that you live and love a life with structure. You can't function with life's flow . You need strategic planning beforehand . My advice is to loosen up a bit and leave the diploma in micromanagement. I get your desired to be at top in everything but then again doesn't it feel too lonely up there ? Ofc if you like it then strive for it but if you find someone in midway your goals don't shove them off . Take them with you and you both will make the path your goals more wonderful than it ever was . People also love your striking confidence I don't care if you fake it or if it's real . The tea is that people are in awe with your confidence. And they also love your walk and talks of confidence.

A homebody reading this pile ? Hello 👋🏻 from another homebody . People also talk about how you not socialise very much and keep it limited and only to your closed ones but that's too limited too . You just don't like noises and the word PARTY . You may have grown without anybody around you whether emotionally or physically but it's the reason you don't like to connect with others and makes you least socialistic. People say you're typa person who is prolly journalling at home with a wine or champagne glass alone in their bed with some coloured lights dimmed off . People also talk about how you also don't have many photos or like being lowkey if you're out somewhere. My celebrity pile 1 connect and enjoy with people!! They all love your vibes and you as a person too .

People definitely want to socialise with you . You literally have high reputation among all of them. I get your tactics pile 1 , acting mysterious to get more attention and catching people's curiousity about what you're always upto . Pile 1 can have water and air elements dominance in their charts. People also love and talk about how you're always educating yourself on new topics, knowing it all and enlightening others . You all always hold the best convos out there cuz you always have so much you know to talk and share about . Your body language definitely oozes out very welcoming aura to others . You have great control over speech too you know when and what to speak . Every move of yours is CALCULATIVE! You always got plan B for every situation lol . That's all pile 1 I hope you loved the reading .

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Pile 2

4 o pentacles 9 o cups reverse Page o pentacles reverse 5 o wands 10 o cups reverse Knight o pentacles

People talk about how you don't rely over money and how materialistic things can't make you happy . You don't even care about positions in your career if something is paying you enough to let you live off your daily needs . You don't chase over things . You either detach or attract them towards yourself. You believe in inner security and don't like to show off infront of others . You always look calm infront of others . You may also like to hold close on your loved ones and things you own , wanting to keep them infront of your eyes always .

People talk about how you went through so much emotional turmoil they may have held on your original potential of what you could have achieved. This pile seems so much mature to me . So many people have turned their back upon you , you faced so many closed doors and sadness but what people say is that it only made you strong minded and willed . You may have also learnt how to protect yourself physically too . People talk about your opposite personality a lot . You haven't showed you 'REAL SELF ' to them so they have lots of opinions and rumors on what you come off to them. Some think you're lucky person too and how you always get things easily because that's how you decided to appear infront of them .

They talk about how you don't interact with others . You all give off heavy melancholic vibes . Okayyy so people on street may talk about your fashion pile 2 y'all have such a perfect dressing sense . Show off your wardrobe to everyone . You give off polar bear vibe to everyone . Icy , resilient, strong , independent, a minimalist who don't like heaps of people or things , a person who like cleanliness , calm and collected . Not everyone can survive on poles but you did and do ! I'll say you're quite competitive with others and to yourself too . You don't like your old self you're always evolving into something new . You don't want to stuck in same old places forever and you're okay with moving on alone if that benefitting you. For thriving you want to have healthy competition that's what keeps you going in life and not loose the interest.

People think that you see your family , friends and relatives as distraction. You are actually so soft pile 2 and you don't wanna break off that shell you built for long time and get in comfort zone just to get uncomfortable back again . I also feel most of you reading this pile can be highschoolers , ,in college or trying to land a job interview. You've this mindset 'its okay to be uncomfortable but not being comfortable to get uncomfortable again ' 😭😭 and I relate to it way too much.

You're actually very loyal and if you ever make connections with someone you intend to make it last forever not just keep it superficial. You believe in quality instead of quantity. And you're the ride and die friend. People believe that your story have a good ending and it's not always will be melancholic for you . You feel like park hyung sik from burried hearts who risked his life to get where he wanted to and even gave up on his lover . He had enough money but didn't had the support and emotional bonding with others which he longed for but didn't had time to do so . That's all pile 2 I hope you enjoyed the reading .

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Pile 3

The emperor 3 o wands 5 o wands reverse King o swords reverse Ace o pentacles

Okay pile 3 , you're everyone's inspiration , you come off as rich person to everyone doesn't need to be materialistic one but it can be like your are very secure in yourself and don't need anyone to compare yourself with . Wherever you're in your life you're pretty much satisfied with it . You're the go with life's flow person. You are also very structured person too . You need routines in your daily life to keep going on . People talk about how strong minded person you are and how you can do anything you out your mind on . You don't care about time too because it feels limiting to you . You want to live off limits which makes you comfortable with doing whatever you want to do and your only goal is to reach there you don't wanna be worried with this superficial human made time . You're also very passionate and I'll say your mind is iron like strong noone can change it if you put your mind on to something. People say that you have said many goodbyes probably your friends and family keep moving out and you never got a permanent house too which you could call a home so I'll say that you're pretty adaptable and you are good at making connections too , such a good talker you're . Your talks are always in controlled manner , have good control over speech , feels like your speech is full of richness and maturity your tone makes it feel like that .

People may also come to you for taking gardening tips you can have your little garden at your home which means so much to you and the care you pour into it is always talked about among the people like how you manage water level , manure ,etc when you're away from your house . You're seen as compassionate , someone who focuses of themselves only and don't usually care about people around them 'self focused ' your back is also something to talk about haha you may have sleek back or prolly venus dimples too that when people see they goo crazyy. Your back is like a whole scenery people feel happy after watching it . Since we're on physical trait that people talk about I'd like to add another one that is your sweaty face and hairs . It's so sexyyy y'all 🎀 people may even cum because of that 😭 y'all are way too photogenic too !!! People love taking photos with you as if you're a celebrity your poses are always unique. You may have Aquarius placements.

People also talk about how clear your decisions always are and how you don't get confused with many options . You know it is for you if it catches your eye and rest other options don't matter at all then . You may like to play a lot with words . You're literal 'pen is mighter than sword ' version of human . Your actions are subtle everything action you take there's always something behind it that people may usually not know . You're the looks like cinamon roll but will ki*l you and that's so hawwwt . Your connections at work or in general is something to be talked about you may have many friends which are in different different fields and which basically opens path for you in many places . You like to have people who are career oriented cuz they help you grow and level up too . Your network matters to you a lot and people like your innovative ideas because they're most of the times commissionable . Thank you for reading pile 3 . I hope you enjoyed the reading.

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I hope you liked the reading . Thank you so much for letting me read for you . Wishing you best ahead . 🎀Bless you and have a nice day

Loads of love , jam

[artytaeh]

⋯ ⋯ ﹒ 🪻 ’

MATTHEO RIDDLE— not horribly tall, but slightly above average. strong arms; what he doesn't have of height like the weasley twins, he has of muscles on his arms, even though not a ken-like amount, which he finds ugly. dark curls— inherited by his mother, the insanely crazy bellatrix lestrange, and beautiful eyes that he has no clue where he got from. long lashes, defined jawline.

in short, a handsome, easily found attractive, young man. and with that bad boy attitude? well, mattheo riddle is every girl's guilty pleasure of a daydream.

some, because they'd like to have their attitude and confidence fucked out of them, by mattheo riddle who certainly takes no bullshit. others, because they delusionally believe that they can somehow fix him— turning a doberman into a golden retriever.

mattheo riddle who's the only first year to not tremble under snape's gaze, because his father is voldemort. the thing, the person he fears the most.

mattheo riddle who doesn't even blink when teachers, older students and even intimidating people yell at him— this is child's play, compared to the cold, frightening aura of his father, and the eery sound of his mother talking to him; one second, she's calm, putting on a (scary) loving persona— then, she's raging, yelling and slamming things, hands on the table, almost throwing hands at her son.

mattheo riddle who stands on the end of the line, letting students get in front of him and even threatening some to take his place on the line, so he stands further behind. this only happens once, during that one professor lupin's class, with the boggart— because mattheo knows that it'd take the shape of his father, walking eerily towards him. not only does he hate the thought of having his classmates gossiping about him, about his family and making even more assumptions about him; but also knows that he'd stand there, paralyzed. incapable of even raising his wand, much less utter such an easy spell like riddikulus. for mattheo, what's ridiculous is his situation; how he'd love and thank the heavens, if he could have such a silly fear like insects, ghosts, or even clowns.

mattheo riddle who grows extremely confident because nothing scares him at hogwarts; after all, his father isn't there— the only thing that makes mattheo riddle tremble is his presence. anything else isn't half as frightening as coming back home to his mother, bellatrix lestrange, and father, voldemort he-who-must-not-be-named.

mattheo riddle who becomes scary and intimidating, so that no one can scare or intimidate him instead. he spent most of his third year at hogwarts practicing on the mirror— a way to turn his beautiful eyes into a dead stare, making sure that the shining glint of his eyes disappears, to become so scary, that no one would dare to mess with him like tom riddle does. or even draco malfoy, who tried to do this back on their first year, bullying mattheo into becoming his friend and follower—, but all of this was before they became genuine friends, along with theodore, lorenzo and blaise.

mattheo riddle who's known by the unhinged brother, less smart riddle— while others, who are aware of tom riddle's tendencies, call him the older psychopath brother, brilliant riddle. such a charming pair of siblings, aren't they?

mattheo riddle who smokes a whole package of cigarettes with theodore nott, when they're on the train back home. for holidays and for summer vacation, in silence, because they're too anxious and nervous to come back home, to leave their (although they're too proud to admit) safe place — hogwarts.

mattheo riddle who respects his older brother, tom riddle, because he thinks that in many ways, tom is like their father sometimes. and that scares him.

mattheo riddle who only learned how to swim and to stop fearing lakes, when his slytherin friends teached him.

( this happened on lorenzo's house, since he invited his friends to spend some days there, during summer vacation. after all, his parents are the less... frightening, in a way, and blaise zabini gatekeeps his mother from his friends, for obvious reasons. besides, lorenzo has the largest pool! upon realizing that mattheo stayed behind while they played in the swimming pool, the boys, for once, didn't turn the situation into a joke. draco stood behind, throwing opinions and dictating that they were doing it wrong— while theodore and blaise stood each by mattheo's side, making sure that he wouldn't get scared if he felt like he was drowning, while lorenzo is in front of him, advising on what to do. it was a mess. a mess that became a core memory of true friendship. )

even so, mattheo hates to go to a point of the lake where he's no longer tall enough to touch the sandy surface— because suddenly he's seven years old again, with tom riddle standing on the edge of the lake, smiling darkly at the sight of his baby brother drowning in the cold water.

⋯ ⋯ ﹒ 🪻 ’

mattheo riddle who, after all of these years, still stares at his older brother with a mixture of resentment and sorrow— secretly, mattheo still wishes to be close with tom. to have a normal brotherly friendship with him, even if they're everything but a normal family. so, mattheo riddle, who envies pairs of siblings whenever he sees them around hogwarts halls, hugging, lightheartedly bullying each other. wishing he could trauma dump shared experiences of his parents with tom, who would've demolished inch after inch of mattheo's pride and feelings, calling him weak.

mattheo riddle who doesn't join draco when he bullies the weasleys. he never defends them either; he doesn't need to, because the redhead siblings stick around for each other. mattheo doesn't know if his heart feels like crying, or ripping apart with a vicious, angry jealousy that he doesn't have that. a sibling that cares enough to take care of him.

mattheo riddle who drinks and drinks and drinks until he passes out, or until he almost throws up his stomach away— rarely accepting any kind of help whatsoever, because he doesn't feel like he deserves it.

because pain and finding out a way to solve things by himself, is what he grew up used to. because his mother is a bipolar, sadistic woman; because his father is too feared by mattheo for him to even dare to consider asking for his help; because his older brother, tom riddle, isn't a pillar he can lean on to— rather, a pillar that would glady fall on top of him, crushing him under debris. he's another person to be feared, and who'd leave mattheo even worse than he already is.

mattheo riddle, who hesitantly accepts lorenzo and theodore's help. because lorenzo is too much of a mother of the group (whenever blaise isn't around, but mattheo doesn't think he'd ever allow the zabini boy to help him either. of course, this happens whenever lorenzo isn't planning his way to another girl's bed either) and by far, the most caring of the boys. or at least, the one who easily shows his worry without a hundred walls surrounding his heart.

and theodore nott, well— mattheo thinks that the term best friend is too corny, so he settles to admit that theo is the person who understands him the most. if he doesn't have tom, he has theo, to sympathize with his shitty situation, because theo's family and hardships are too similar, even though they don't share a last name.

they have matching wounds, inflicted by different people, but similar situations.

and because theodore is awfully moody, sarcastic and would punch mattheo into reason, well— mattheo unwillingly accepts theodore's (forceful) help.

· · ·

mattheo riddle who only ever has deep thoughts when he's throwing up from the alcohol, or becomes self-conscious of himself. of the evilness he provokes, of the unchanging way his fate was decided, as soon as he was conceived in his mother's womb. how he, no matter how he'd like to change, believes that he's a lost cause.

something that's not worth the effort, since mattheo riddle, younger brother of tom riddle, son of bellatrix lestrange and the dark lord himself, must have been born with a vicious evil heart. how could he not, with a family like this?

it must be on his dna. or so he believes.

when he's drunk, puke being wiped out from his lips and alone in the bathroom— this is the only time when mattheo riddle allows himself to pity himself. other than that, he'd scoff at the thought of doing so; because that's a weak thing to do.

and to survive his family, mattheo wouldn't dare to be weak a single day of his life. he might get killed if he allows a moment of weakness around his family. whatever family means, anyways.

⋯ ⋯ ﹒ 🪻 ’

mattheo riddle who's always the first one to start a fight— and never the one to end it. either his friends push him away, or he's held down by some spell casted by one of hogwarts' teachers.

however, he will start a fight with a group of five gryffindors, if they make a nasty comment about mattheo's friends. if they dare to assume, to gossip, to say one mean word about the friends that tolerate mattheo's behavior even on his shittiest days. the first thing he does is grab the last one talking by the collar, so that his fist naturally punches the guy's face. yes, mattheo can keep up a fight with five guys— even though he knows that, as much of a good and violent fighter as he is, there's no way that he won't leave with a few bruises (and bloody knuckles from rashly punching back and forth).

nevertheless, mattheo riddle won't ever allow theodore or his friends to join him, if he's about to have a 1v1. not even to intimidate or make a single threat— mattheo thinks that it's pathetic and coward to do so, which is why sometimes, mattheo doesn't help draco when he puts up a stunt against a single student (or a group that is outnumbered by malfoy's little friends). when draco comes back, mattheo won't scold him— but he won't shut up either, at least making sure that by some miracle, draco understands how coward it is to do that, from the sarcastic comment that mattheo throws with no hesitation.

⋯ ⋯ ﹒ 🪻 ’

mattheo riddle who actually has one of the most beautiful smiles. once his usual dead stare is gone, showing how those dark eyes of his can look so sweet and bright— squinting into half moons, when he truly laughs or smiles genuinely. his smile is one that makes you think that maybe, just maybe, there isn't any evil or meanness to this slytherin boy.

mattheo riddle who is so touch starved, that only a warm gaze from you, is enough to melt him and (at least mentally) get him on his knees. those dark eyes soften and follow every movement of yours— looking like a lost puppy, when you eventually shift your attention to something else, your gaze leaving him. he won't grab you, he won't yell for your attention out of pride— but if you were to look into his eyes, you'd see how mattheo silently hopes to some deity that you'll have your attention on him once again.

mattheo riddle who doesn't know how to be gentle, because he never knew gentle touches, caresses and soft approaches. this man is almost stupid because of this sometimes— mattheo isn't even aware of his own strength, so when he does hurt you unintentionally (by grabbing holding your wrist) and gets scolded about it... he'll genuinely look at you, confused. sure, he'll apologize— fine, sorry!

. . . however, mattheo isn't sure what he did wrong. was it really that hurtful? to him, he was simply holding you, not grabbing...

( because mattheo riddle was never held, only yanked or dragged along. )

mattheo riddle who would love to have people playing with his hair. twirl his curls around your fingers, tug at it (but gently, please! he easily complains at the slightest hint of discomfort!), massage his scalp, caress his dark hair— mattheo melts and for a moment, wonders if sleep does arrive to him this fast at night, like it does now that you're touching him there.

so yes, during classes, mattheo sneakily stands on the door frame— carefully watching where you decide to take your seat, before he marches up to you so he can take the other chair of said desk.

mattheo marches confidently, hands on his pockets and body a little bend to the front; focused on his target: you.

all of his concentration is locked on his goal: your attention for the whole class. and if he's too late, because some annoying girl or asshole with pants got there before him? one glare from mattheo, and they're gone.

mattheo doesn't even bother to take his books; he greets, crosses his arms on top of the table, settles his head there— and if you're too slow to understand what's this whole preparation for, well, mattheo has no problem to make his intentions clear, by (much gentler, this time) grabbing your hand and settling it on his head. among his dark curls.

and if you notice that they look softer and taken care of— well, mattheo won't be catch dead and much less alive saying it. but blaise noticed how mattheo bought a new shampoo, conditioner and a weird bottle that seems to help curly hair like mattheo's.

AND HOW DID AN ALL-IN-ONE SHAMPOO USER LIKE MATTTHEO, KNEW WHAT PRODUCTS TO USE IN WHICH ORDER, FROM DAY TO NIGHT? oh, that was easy; mattheo spent an evening leaning against the entrance of the slytherin common room, watching intently every student that entered or left during that hour of the day. his eyes glared up and down— searching for a slytherin, be it a witch or a wizard, older or younger than him, that has a type of hair similar (if not identical) to his.

finally, a slytherin girl was on her way to hang out with her friends. that is, until mattheo nonchalantly grabs her by the collar of her shirt, right when she innocently passes by him, then drags the girl along with him to a secluded corner of the slytherin common room.

( out of love for life and respect for their well-being, it's safe to say that her friends didn't come to save her. though, props to them, because they kept watching... just in case. of, you know, having to search for help. )

the slytherin girl trembles on her spot, rethinking her life choices; wondering if she had done anything to offend mattheo riddle, the dark lord's son— not the psychopath, the unhinged one. when he bends down, so that he's face to face with her, eyes squinting with his jaw clenched...

she closes her eyes. wondering if she'd be punched or have her hair grabbed to be slammed against the wall. however, after awkward ten seconds pass and her body is still intact, she opens one eye, to see mattheo making a grimace.

a grimace that would be funny if he wasn't so scary. a grimace that seemed to ask, 'what the fuck are you doing?'. which would have been verbalized, mind you, if mattheo didn't have a list of priorities at the moment. he opens his mouth, and this slytherin girl feared to have hallucinated such an innocent, random question.

'which products do you use for your hair?'

( ten minutes later, after having explained her hair routine in detail to mattheo riddle himself, who took notes and hummed for her to keep going, the slytherin girl goes back to her friend group. pale. she doesn't give details— no one would believe her. and she doesn't think that mattheo riddle would like having people know that he's about to spend 100 galleons on hair products to please you. )

౨ৎ please understand that i'm trying my hardest, ♡ ͡

my head's a mess, but i'm trying regardless . . .

🪻 ; . . . fandom : harry potter.

— i noticed that i have a few mattheo girlies enjoying my writing, so! please consider this a little bittersweet drabble for you. once again, tysm for the feedback! ♥︎

the headers + gifs + icons aren't mine. credits to the respective creators ! 🌷

[yourownutopia]

Shadowborn [Jin Woo x !Shadow !Fem Reader]

When the Shadow Monarch adds you to his ranks, he has no idea what he's in for. Not only are you uncontrollable, but you also harbor a secret that even the System keeps hidden from him. As he searches for a way to bring you under control, it becomes clear that your existence exposes a flaw in the perfect structure of the shadows—one that no one could have foreseen. Why don’t you yield to his will, and more importantly, why doesn’t the System want you to remember?

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Chapter Index :

[Prologue ʰᵉʳᵉ], [1] [2] [3]

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Song: Shadowborn - Hiroyuki Sawano

Calm before the storm - It's me they all are coming for Be my shadowborn

We're back to take the pain - My soul is indestructible

I steal you from the grave - So cursed to be a slave

»»———-»--•--«———-««

Enjoy the prologue!

Note: I want to clarify that English is not my first language. I’m sorry if there are any mistakes or if I sometimes use incorrect words. Please feel free to send me corrections so I can continue improving my skills! 😊

[Prologue] “Arise.”

The Shadow Monarch’s voice reverberated through the room, deep and commanding, shattering the silence like fragile glass. Clear and resonant, his words echoed off the stone walls, lingering as though the air itself sought to hold onto them. The sound was low and powerful, vibrating faintly, giving the room a brief sense of life before the quiet crept back in.

A translucent window appeared in the air, the oppressive dark aura blanketing the ground retreating like mist. Once again, the extraction had failed. [Soul Extraction failed. 1/3 attempts remaining.]

Jin-Woo’s cold gaze flickered down to the lifeless figure lying on the ground. He exhaled deeply, raising his hand again.

“Is this truly where you wish to meet your end?” he asked, his eyes beginning to glow faintly. His voice was the only thing animating the desolate room. Vines crawled up the cracked stone walls, fractured beams of sunlight piercing through the shattered ceiling above. It looked like an abandoned boss chamber—ancient extinguished torches lined the walls, weapon gouges marred the hard stone—but there was no trace of life to be found. Not even the body before him radiated vitality.

So why couldn’t he extract her shadow?

Had it been too long since this monster’s death? Monsters decayed, yet her body showed no signs of rot. Only the deep lacerations across her skin, the missing heartbeat, and the faint, oppressive aura around her gave away the truth—she was dead.

“What a pitiful end,” he murmured. Jin-Woo didn’t expect a response, but something about her unnerved him enough to speak aloud, as though testing the air for answers.

“Arise,” he commanded once more, his hand tightening into a fist as though he could will her soul to obey.

The black smoke coiled around the lifeless body, intertwining with the tendrils rising from her chest. Slowly, the shadow took shape. Jin-Woo’s lips curled into a victorious smirk as the dark form solidified into the outline of a woman. Her glowing white eyes locked onto nothingness, the telltale mark of a newly risen shadow.

The system window popped up again, prompting for a name. Jin-Woo glanced at his latest recruit, who now knelt before him, one leg folded beneath her and the other bent upright. Her gaze remained forward, never meeting his.

“You belong to my Shadow Army now,” Jin-Woo declared, lowering his hand. “From this day on, you will serve me and obey my commands.”

He pondered briefly, then began typing a name into the prompt. Just as his finger hovered over the “Confirm” button, the window glitched, flickering erratically before closing. The chosen name replaced by another. [Y/N]

“No.”

The voice was so faint it barely registered. Jin-Woo paused, convinced he must have imagined it. Yet, before he could dismiss the notion, the shadows surrounding her physical body dissipated, retreating into the darkness along with the lifeless form on the ground.

“What?” His voice was sharp, his composure slipping for an instant as the word lingered in disbelief.

“No.” The second time was louder, firmer. The shadowy figure began to rise, her form shifting. The darkness coating her crumbled away, replaced by color. Her eyes, once glowing white, now gleamed a vibrant shade of [E/C], locked onto his in defiance. Her hair, [H/C], shimmered with an unnatural vitality, stark against the bleak surroundings.

Jin-Woo’s usually impassive expression flickered with subtle astonishment. A shadow capable of speech? Only Beru had ever displayed such an ability.

He cast his gaze toward the floating information above her:

Name: [Y/N] Level: ???

He couldn’t read her level. And she already had a name.

A tense silence filled the space, his dark aura intensifying until even Igris, his loyal Blood-Red Commander, shivered. Yet, [Y/N] stood unflinching, her jaw tight as she met Jin-Woo’s penetrating stare. Despite the icy dread running down her spine, an unyielding resolve kept her rooted. She refused to kneel.

“I refuse,” she ground out through clenched teeth, watching as the black-haired man’s glowing eyes narrowed into sharp slits. Her voice was thin but steady.

Before she could react, he had grabbed her chin and leaned down toward her; after all, he was a good head taller than she was. His grip was firm, not enough to hurt, but enough to convey his dominance. His hands were icy cold. Could shadows even feel such sensations? His face was mere inches from hers, and his piercing gaze sent a cold shiver crawling up her limbs.

[You are forbidden from harming your master.]

The window that briefly popped up caught her eye for a moment before her gaze returned to the Shadow Monarch’s icy stare.

“What was that?” he asked in a deep voice, as though his physical intimidation and the flicker in his glowing eyes could compel her to reconsider her defiance in light of what he was capable of.

“Say that again,” he growled, his tone icy and measured, daring her to reconsider. He was giving her one more chance to retract her initial refusal and do what—at least in his mind—was the only correct thing. [Y/N] stared at him for a moment. Her irritation over the situation gradually gave way to anger, which settled heavily in her chest. Who did he think he was? More importantly, who did he think she was? ... Who was she?

But there was no time to dwell on that thought, as the Shadow Monarch grew impatient. He made this clear with a brief but painful squeeze of his hand. But her defiance didn’t falter. “I. Refuse.” The words were deliberate, slow, and unwavering.

For the first time, Jin-Woo felt something beyond annoyance—curiosity laced with disbelief. Never had a shadow disobeyed him. His dominion was absolute. So why did she stand so boldly against him?

“You’re either very brave or very foolish,” he said, his voice low as his violet eyes flickered dangerously. “Do you even realize who I am?”

Her lips curled into a faint smirk. “When you’re dead, titles lose their meaning. Honestly, nothing really matters anymore.”

For a fraction of a second, Jin-Woo’s stoic mask slipped. Her words, blunt and logical, were disconcerting. Yet his pride demanded he reassert his authority.

“If you won’t obey me, I have no use for you,” he declared coldly. “I’ll kill you again a second time”

“Go ahead.” Her voice dropped to a whisper, her expression challenging. “I have nothing to lose.” Something in her tone—half daring, half resigned—made Jin-Woo hesitate. The tension between them crackled like static, thick enough to choke. Shadows coiled at his feet, thick as ink, creeping toward her like serpents. Yet, as they reached her, they paused, lingering for a moment as though recognizing her as one of their own before retreating.

Even Jin-Woo couldn’t deny what he had just witnessed. Releasing her chin, he let out a heavy sigh, his energy dissipating as the oppressive weight in the room lifted.

This was no ordinary shadow.

The shadows retreated as quickly as they had appeared, his eyes returning to their cool gray, and the immense energy he exuded vanished entirely.

He couldn’t simply let the chance of having a powerful shadow slip away, even if her lack of respect infuriated him to no end. The fact that he couldn’t determine her rank and that she didn’t yield to his will suggested she must be strong.

[Y/N] exhaled in relief; the whole ordeal hadn’t left her unscathed, but she was incredibly fortunate that the black-haired man hadn’t killed her on the spot. Despite her earlier words, she really didn’t want to die again.

His cold expression remained unchanged, but his gaze lingered on the [H/C]-haired woman, who stared back at him blankly.

Her appearance was human—different from his other shadows. She had color, glowing eyes, and if not for the name and lack of rank floating above her head, he wouldn’t have even guessed she was part of his army.

“Let me put it another way: as the one who revived you, you don’t have a choice but to follow my commands. So stop being so stubborn and just obey,” he said, his voice slicing through the silence as he crossed his arms over his chest.

Stubborn? Me? Does he even listen to himself? [Y/N] thought.

“Clearly, we’re both stubborn,” she stated , rubbing her chin, which still bore faint pressure marks from his firm grip.

She didn’t notice the faint flicker of concern in his eyes. Did he hurt her?

“If you’d stop being stubborn and accept that you can’t just go around resurrecting people and making them your slaves,” she retorted, earning another angry glare from the black-haired man. He at least seemed to accept that physical intimidation wasn’t going to work on her.

Jin-Woo turned slightly away from her and opened the window displaying the current number of his shadows.

“I revived you for a reason. You are now part of my army and will serve me. End of discussion.”

[Y/N] laughed humorlessly—a cynical laugh. He still didn’t get it.

She rolled her eyes, though there was that peculiar feeling in her chest—a strange connection that had been there since her resurrection. It felt more like a tether pulling at her core, drawing her toward him.

But she didn’t feel compelled to obey him—so why should she?

“Nope, as long as you act like an asshole, I’m not even going to consider it.”

The Shadow Monarch froze mid-movement, shooting her a deadly side-eye.

Did she just insult him?

His frustration grew with every passing second. No one had ever defied him like this, especially not someone he had revived.

“And why should I be nice to you? You’re the one defying me here. You’re the one refusing to obey me. What have you done to deserve my kindness when all you’ve shown me is disrespect?” he said.

[Y/N] responded without thinking, “You reap what you sow.”

Yes, he was an asshole, and she couldn’t stand him, but her reaction wasn’t exactly the best icebreaker either. Besides, they were both in a pretty crappy situation, and it wouldn’t get any better if they kept clashing.

Plus—what choice did she have? She had no idea who or what she was, where she was, or where she was supposed to go.

A resigned sigh escaped her lips, and her tense posture relaxed a little.

“Maybe... just maybe, we got off on the wrong foot,” she said, her voice softening slightly, almost innocent—though theatrically so.

The Shadow Monarch was once again surprised by her words. She had personality—and plenty of it, apparently.

He could insist that she was his shadow and that he was therefore superior to her, but what would be the point in the end? Perhaps it was time to swallow his pride and admit he might have been wrong.

Maybe he had simply spent too much time alone, consumed by his role as the Shadow Monarch, losing whatever social skills he once had.

His expression remained cool for a moment longer before his features softened slightly, and he scratched the back of his head. “That’s an understatement,” he muttered, reflecting on how he was almost the cause of her second death. [Y/N]’s eyes lit up slightly. Had she just detected a hint of humor in his voice?

His tone had lost some of its anger, which gave her a bit of relief.

“Okay. What am I even supposed to do, and where the hell are we anyway?” she asked, glancing around the room and taking it in. She knew she had seen this place before—clearly, it was where she had died—but it didn’t feel familiar. Jin-Woo, still a bit taken aback by her sudden cooperation, followed her gaze.

“We’re in a dungeon,” he said matter-of-factly. He really didn’t share more than he absolutely had to, did he? As for what she was supposed to do? Well, his shadows usually fought for him, but what about her? She had no weapon and didn’t seem magically inclined—at least he couldn’t sense any significant mana coming from her.

“Follow me. That’s enough for now,” he finally said, turning on his heel. His cloak lifted slightly with the abrupt movement before settling back down.

Jin-Woo didn’t look back, his footsteps silent on the cold stone floor. The young woman hesitated for a moment, but the invisible force seemed to nudge her forward, almost pushing her to follow him. She let out another frustrated sigh. “Okay,” she said, taking a few quick steps to catch up with him, though she stayed a few meters behind. “I’ll follow you,” she said after a brief pause. “But I won’t follow your orders blindly. If a command seems pointless to me, I’ll refuse,” she added—a compromise she could live with. Jin-Woo stopped abruptly, nearly causing her to bump into him. He paused, processing her words. For a moment, he hesitated. With a sigh, his expression softened slightly. “Fine. I’ll accept your compromise,” he said, reluctantly agreeing to her terms. “But if your reason for refusing seems pointless to me, don’t expect my mercy,” he added without glancing at her and continued walking. Though he was satisfied with this for now, there were limits—even for her.

What had he gotten himself into? ‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹⋘ 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎... ⋙‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 ᴄᴏᴍᴘʟᴇᴛᴇ! ꨄ︎ ︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

Thank you for all your support! likes, reblogs & commentsor just reading <3 .'*•.¸♡ I really appreciate it <3 ♡¸.•*'

♡¸.•*' ˋ°•*⁀✎ 𝑢𝑡𝑜𝑝𝑖𝑎

[aventurineswife]

I'm currently experiencing hsr brainrot help me, may I request aventurine, blade, sunday, jing yuan and boothill about their types or preferences(appearance, personality, and stuff like that) for their future significant partner? I'm not sure if this had been already done so ignore if yes!! Also I'm a new follower and I've read many of your works recently, I really love your writing style and how it ticks my brainrot just righttt ♡♡♡

HSR Characters and their preferences in a S/O

A/N: I tried my best here, but I didn’t get into specifics about hair color, eye color, or other physical attributes (except for scars and such). So please, don’t come after me (I’m joking, of course). After all, at the end of the day, it’s all fictional! 💀 And this is just my personal opinion on what the men would want in a S/O 😇. I hope you like this!

Appearance:

Aventurine is captivated by individuals who radiate subtle individuality—those who blend sophistication with an undercurrent of boldness. Unconventional touches like asymmetrical accessories, vibrant patterns, or a daring hairstyle intrigue him, especially when worn with confidence.

He’s drawn to a balance between practicality and elegance—someone whose style is functional yet carries an artistic flair, a quiet rebellion against conformity.

A piercing gaze, sharp and confident, mesmerizes him. He loves the challenge of eyes that seem to see past his charm and into the broken truths he hides.

Scars, blemishes, or physical imperfections catch his attention. They whisper untold stories he aches to unravel, providing a glimpse into the person beyond the surface.

Personality:

Aventurine seeks a partner who thrives in the dance of words and wit. He’s fascinated by someone who can keep him guessing—playfully resistant to his charm and never predictable.

He’s drawn to people who’ve endured hardship and emerged stronger, finding common ground in shared trauma or survival instincts.

While Aventurine guards his vulnerability, he craves someone with the emotional intelligence to see past his bravado. Their ability to intuit his needs, even when unspoken, creates a sense of safety.

He admires a grounding presence—someone self-assured yet humble, who can counterbalance his more dramatic tendencies without overshadowing him.

Compatibility:

High-stakes situations invigorate him, so he appreciates a partner who thrives under pressure. Whether it’s in a game of strategy or a tense negotiation, he seeks someone who can match his composure and cunning.

Trust is a slow-burning process for Aventurine. His partner must be patient, willing to navigate his walls without forcing him to open up before he’s ready.

Dynamic:

Aventurine doesn’t just want a lover—he needs a partner-in-crime. Someone willing to embrace the thrill of calculated risks, whether it’s a dangerous gamble or a perfectly executed scheme.

They balance his indulgent tendencies, providing a steady hand when he flirts with self-destruction. Together, they form a dynamic duo—equal parts chaos and control.

Appearance:

Blade has little concern for traditional beauty, focusing instead on the feeling someone evokes. He’s drawn to understated traits that exude calm, mystery, or quiet strength.

A serene or enigmatic aura captivates him, especially in those who seem like they’ve weathered storms of their own. Scars or imperfections are less flaws and more badges of survival—silent testaments to a shared pain.

There’s a certain poetry in subtlety that Blade finds magnetic, such as the way someone carries themselves or a fleeting, knowing glance.

Personality:

Blade’s ideal partner must embody gentle resilience—a quiet strength that offers stability amidst his chaos. He’s not drawn to overt displays of power but rather to those who endure with grace.

His partner needs to respect his emotional distance and allow their bond to deepen organically. They provide solace through presence, not pressure.

Understanding his guilt and anger without pitying him is crucial. He needs someone who offers comfort without trying to “fix” him.

He admires individuals who remain true to themselves, even in the face of his volatility. Their grounded nature becomes his anchor.

Compatibility:

Blade struggles with verbal affection and grand gestures. His partner must value actions over words—small, meaningful gestures like a shared silence or a comforting touch.

Loyalty is paramount. Blade often tests boundaries, whether intentionally or not, and needs a partner who remains steadfast in their care.

Dynamic:

Blade seeks a relationship built on mutual protection. His ideal partner isn’t there to save him but to walk beside him as he confronts his demons.

Their love is a slow-burning fire, marked by quiet moments of vulnerability and unspoken understanding. They don’t demand his trust but earn it, piece by fractured piece.

Appearance:

Sunday gravitates toward those with an ethereal or graceful quality—a beauty that feels otherworldly yet grounded. He appreciates the quiet elegance that reflects his Halovian heritage.

Symbolic trinkets or meaningful accessories, like earrings or pendants, resonate deeply with him, mirroring his love for intricate details and subtle meaning.

Personality:

Sunday is drawn to those who counter his melancholic worldview with a hopeful, compassionate perspective. He needs someone who gently challenges his ideals without dismissing his emotions.

His partner must possess a quiet, unwavering self-confidence. They confront his twisted philosophies with patience and understanding, offering a grounding presence.

A partner with a playful streak appeals to him, especially when it contrasts with his solemn demeanor. Their lightheartedness reminds him of life’s simple joys.

Compatibility:

Sunday needs a partner who can understand his lofty ideals and gently challenge them, offering a grounded perspective that helps him reconcile his desire for a perfect world with the imperfections of reality. They should help him navigate his philosophical struggles without dismissing his emotions.

Sunday thrives in a relationship where emotional depth is paired with moments of lightness. His ideal partner balances serious conversations with a playful streak that brings joy and reminds him of life’s simple pleasures, helping him reconnect with spontaneous joy.

Trust is built slowly for Sunday, so his partner must be patient, allowing their bond to deepen organically. They should provide stability and comfort, supporting him as he works through his emotional walls and guiding him toward growth without forcing him to change before he’s ready.

Dynamic:

Sunday’s ideal relationship thrives on emotional intimacy. His partner navigates his philosophical struggles with care, providing warmth and optimism without trying to fix him.

They challenge his tendency to idealize perfection, helping him rediscover beauty in imperfection and spontaneity.

Appearance:

Boothill is drawn to raw, unrefined beauty—someone who’s lived and survived, marked by the stories their body tells. Scars, tattoos, and bold fashion choices are a reflection of resilience and adventure, and he admires individuals who wear their history as a badge of honor. He’s captivated by those who can rock vibrant, contrasting colors or mismatched styles with confidence, projecting a sense of strength and individuality.

He’s particularly fond of eyes that burn with fire and determination—eyes that match his intensity, yet hold a vulnerability only the right person can see. Confidence is key, but it’s that unpolished confidence, the kind that’s earned through hardship, that pulls him in.

Personality:

Boothill craves a partner who can match his fierce energy and boldness. He’s drawn to those who share his burning passion for justice and fighting for what’s right, even if it means breaking the rules. He admires fearless individuals who challenge authority and embrace a world of gray, not just black and white.

A sharp, witty partner who can banter with him is essential—they need to hold their ground in arguments, but still know how to make him laugh. Beneath his hard exterior, he secretly yearns for warmth and loyalty, someone who sees past his rough exterior and recognizes the vulnerabilities hidden underneath.

Patience is a challenge for him, but he seeks someone who can balance his impulsive nature, tempering his decisions with wisdom while never dulling his fire. The ideal partner doesn’t just soothe his rage—they fan the flames in the best way possible, stoking the fires of his passion and his purpose.

Compatibility:

Boothill’s partner would have to keep up with his relentless pace, matching him in the heat of battle as much as in life. They must be able to stand beside him during intense moments of action, yet offer solace and understanding in quieter, more reflective ones. His ideal relationship is built on equal footing—where passion and respect for one another fuel their connection.

Their dynamic would never be boring—full of challenges, shared adventures, and a fiery bond formed through trials, risks, and the occasional reckless decision. They would push each other toward greatness, not with soothing words, but through daring acts of loyalty and love.

Dynamic:

Boothill wants a relationship full of intensity, one where his partner isn’t afraid to stand by him, even if it means navigating chaos or defying the odds together.

This is not a relationship where either party is passive—it’s a partnership of equals, where each individual’s strength and spirit fuel the other. Their love would burn brightly, fueled by both passion and unshakable loyalty, with both of them walking side by side through any storm, ready to fight for each other and what they believe in.

Appearance:

Jing Yuan is drawn to elegance and grace—someone whose appearance radiates composure and quiet strength. He appreciates fine details and a refined aesthetic, as he values artistry in all aspects of life. A partner who can carry themselves with quiet dignity, with clothing that flows or intricate designs, would catch his attention.

However, while Jing Yuan admires serenity, he finds himself captivated by the unexpected spark in someone’s personality. A playful glint in the eye or a mischievous smile is enough to unsettle his calm demeanor, drawing him in even more. He appreciates someone who can maintain their elegance but isn’t afraid to reveal the more unpredictable, adventurous sides of themselves when the moment calls for it.

Personality:

Jing Yuan is in search of a partner who has a calm, patient demeanor—someone who understands the complexities of his strategic mind and the burdens he carries. His ideal partner is not only compassionate and wise, but also someone who can see the long-term view, matching his ability to think and plan for the future.

At the same time, he’s charmed by a partner who can bring a sense of spontaneity to his life. While he thrives on stability, he appreciates the occasional touch of unpredictability—someone who can light a fire under his more sedentary tendencies, adding a dash of excitement to the otherwise peaceful routines he enjoys. He values a balance of tranquility and energy, where his partner’s playfulness can bring joy without overwhelming him.

Compatibility:

Jing Yuan’s ideal partner would have the patience to stand by him through quiet moments of reflection, as well as the capacity to engage with him in deep, meaningful conversations. They would respect his thoughtful, strategic nature, while also encouraging him to take moments of respite, enjoying the beauty of life’s simpler pleasures together.

They would need to understand his need for a sense of long-term stability, yet not let him become too withdrawn or passive. A deep intellectual connection, rooted in shared wisdom and mutual understanding, would lay the foundation of their bond. Their connection would be built on the steady progression of trust and affection, growing subtly over time.

Dynamic:

Jing Yuan seeks a partner who can offer emotional intimacy without pressuring him for more than he’s ready to give. They’d share moments of serene companionship, where quiet silences are comfortable, and words aren’t necessary to convey their bond. However, his ideal partner wouldn’t shy away from challenging him, nudging him out of his intellectual ruts and helping him see the world in a new light.

The dynamic would be one of mutual respect, with his partner both grounding him and adding an unpredictable spark to his life. While he values peacefulness, he enjoys the occasional adventure or light-hearted moments that break through his more serious demeanor, reminding him that even in the pursuit of wisdom, life can be full of wonder.

P-please don't come after me...😭😕

[wonderhomeland]

You know

Simon doesn't talk about how he feels. Like nothing. Even things like being hungry. Not even in a friendly conversation with his teammats.

he just deals with whatever it is.

And that's inspiring for other. In his line of work, there's no such thing as relying on someone.

rookies like it, want to be like him.

Independent, strong, capable, reliable, with a cool aura.

But little does they know, that when their big, scary Lieutenant is with his girl, he acts like a little baby. turns to her for the smallest things and stares at her as if she can read his mind.

It was hard for you at first, whatever happends he doesn't say anything.

He just... Stares.

And not with a frown or anger in his eyes or anyting to let you know that he is mad, happy or sad.

It took a long time for both of you to figure out how to get along. Well actually, you were the one who was trying cus appareantly simon doesn't think that he might be the problem. He expected you to underestand every singel meaning of... whatever he does.

You learned them tho, after years. Read him like a book. Like a mother who is aware of all her child's reactions.

He doesn't want to talk about them, ... but he enjoys that you understand everything. He loves the feeling of you being so close to him and understanding him. and you do. you enjoy the fact that he trusts you so much. That you are the only one who understands the reason and meaning of his actions.

So people don't think for a moment that they were doing something wrong when Simon's head turned quickly towards you and stared into your eyes.

Aww... look how much he loves her.

And his calm experession tells you that he whants to kill them.

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

Always imagine Simon to be the perfect man, but lately he is just... too perfect, the man he is, its just nah his charactar is problematic. He is a man after all (I want this man to crawl under my skin), so I tried to think of what toxic behaviors he might have. Must be closer to reallity for me but you do you, its the only place we can be delusional😔

Forgive me if there's any problem , it's 1am here ,english is not my first language and I haven't studied anything for my tomorrow's test HAHAHA.

Tnx for reading my shitty thoughts<333.

[petalsonmoon]

breathe in, breathe through, breathe deep, breathe out… you're falling in love.

(i'd just like to say that in this scenario i imagined UA as an university so they're a bit older... thank you for reading <3)

you had no one to blame but yourself. you read too much and you never know when to stop. but really, how can you go to sleep when the found family are about to perform the heist?

so when school was back things got complicated. your brain had its own routine by now so when you were laying in bed and the moonlight was trying to get in through the curtains it felt like you just drank 3 bottles of coffee.

your celling was making your mind combust this is why you got up and decided to take a little walk. you left your dorm and went for the stairs, feet light as the moonlight touching the walls. maybe you should buy a sleeping mask. or try meditation. new year new habits.

when you arrived at the communal space you were trying not to let the frustation win the fight against your empathetic consciousness. one side of your head was screaming that the begining of a school year should be centered, organized and fierced and an insomnia on your first day is not a great start. the other part was giving you a gentle pat on your head saying that life doesn't end when you graduate and you just have to take one day at a time.

you find yourself walking very slowly towards the kitchen and sitting on your usual stool. the third one from right to left. the whole place was beautifully iluminated by the moon. isn't sad that the moonlight is actually an reflection of the light that hits them? must be isolating.

there was a mini jar on the counter filled with m&m's. you slided it close to you and started to eat the yellow ones.

it was 5:28am acording to the microwave. m&m's were a great breakfast.

but the moon itself was pretty once iluminated by the others.... so it must feel pretty, right? seen? especially if it knows us, humans are captivated by its brutal and elegant greyness,

"the fuck is this?"

you jump. like cartoon jump.

and he didn't even scream he merely whipered. a rasp and crude whisper but a hushed tone nonetheless.

"holy jesus bakugo-" you whisper back with your hand on your chest trying calm it.

"what are you doing?" his interrupition as strong as he is.

"you scared the shit out of me." you complete. sort of ignoring his question.

he stayed still a few feet away burning you with his red eyes. his natural rage and powerful aura filling up the space.

"morning." you say. not in a good mood to smile but with enough chocolate in your system to sound gentle.

his eyes were on you for 5 seconds (5 minutes in your head) before he growled and moved, walking around the counter, turning one single light of the relatively big kitchen and started to get everything to prepare his healthy breakfast.

since first year, bakugo grew gracefully for those who noticed. although he changed he'd still murder you with an m&m if you said that out loud. you're definitely not that close to the boy but you were one of those who got enchanted by a determination so big and fierce someone could get blinded by it.

just like you were constantly astonished by momo's bright and calculated mind or todoroki's immense gentleness after a life that lacked warmness, you spent those 3 years seeing bakugo as an inspiration.

although his whole group of friends had a confidence you wished you had. they intimidated you. hagakure says it's you being stupid.

you watch as the boy moves fast and domestically calm through the gabinets, knowing exactly what he needs and wants.

with his large back facing you he started chopping and boiling and cooking. all the yellow m&m's had ended by the time one of you said a word.

"why are you up?"

raspy and soft. but you were not expecting him acknowledging you at all.

"hm..." your eyes focused on his back. "insomnia. vacation consequences."

you hear a distant grunt.

"so you came here to eat chocolate?" he kept preparing his dish in an annoyingly organized way.

"well, if my body is not feeling like being healthy might as well join his thinking."

"great thinking." he concludes and it's not even lacying with sarcasm. just full judgement.

it takes a few seconds for you to toughen up and keep talking.

"any tips?"

with that he turns and looks at you for a few seconds. you hold his gaze.

he only answers when he's back at glaring at the vegetables. "just fucking sleep."

it's so blunt it cracks a chuckle out of you. you betray yourself and take a single red m&m to your mouth.

"you ever slept in?"

"no." he rumbles.

"not even like, 5 minutes?"

"no."

"that's crazy..." you whisper to yourself.

"that's discipline." he defends not whispering back.

"yes, it absolutely is." you sounded silly but that was not the intention. "once me and tokoyami tried to make a schedule and wake up at 5 to train together"

it was fun trying to be healthy doing team work. you remember him telling you that dark shadow was also excited to practice outdoors since it was going to be dark still the time you agreed. "we only did it for a week."

you see him shake his head and murmur something you took 3 seconds to decode. "more than what i was expecting"

"okay!" you protest softly. "not all of us wants to be the best there is"

"and that means i can't judge you for being stupid?"

he blunts it out. as you said, bakugo was stil an angry, angry person but with patience and respect on the edges now. if you look closely.

"and some of us are not that competitive... like, really not. ever played uno with me?"

you hear him taking a deep breath. you don't know if that's an "yes" a "no" or a "i dare you to keep talking"

so you keep talking. "and i tried, doesn't that count?"

"it doesn't if you don't even do the bare damn minimum" his voice still raspy and very dure but the sleepiness not there anymore "not sleeping fries your brain." he resolutes.

"but this brain is also the reason i have anxiety so i'm just paying it back."

he finally turns to you with those immaculate sharp red eyes and points at you with the knife he was holding. "stupid."

"no, fairness." you smile and point a red m&m at him.

you held his gaze until he turned again. but then he finished part of whatever he was doing and drops the knife, washes his hands and turns to you again.

now you're getting goosebumps because he's walking towards you.

"you should've given me tips to sleep if you didn't want me annoying you at 5 in the morning" you defend yourself of something. you're really grateful for the courage the dawn gives people.

"is this gonna be a recurring thing?" he whisper. he stops in front of you, a counter between you both.

"don't know. it might be."

your hand was going to another red m&m when he stopped it. "stop eating this shit."

"then do you mind giving me cooking tips as well?"

his eyebrows furrows and he takes another deep breath letting go of your wrist. the counter was not that big. he was too close. "just focus on your breathing and it'll help you relax. even if you're not sleepy breathing techniques do help."

oh!

he did try to help you and that was sweet and you couldn't help but smile. "thank you."

he quickly turned around and went back to the stove grunting in response "don't need you yapping my ears off at the one time i have peace in this place."

with that you got up from the stool and went to your dorm feeling lightheaded.

── ☆ ──

after that there was no reason not to take deep breaths and count before sleeping. of course the problem was not fixed but it actually helped! there was some nights where your brain could not for his own health turn off the lights and it took you couting till 50 to relax but overall. you were sleeping at least 6 hours straight so a win is a win.

your relationship with bakugo evolved from not talking at all to you saying hi to him and him grunting in return. the universe decided to be kind to you by pairing you two a few times to spare during some of aizawa's classes and it was so unhealthy how you felt happy and annoyingly you with him.

so some nights you did had to trick yourself into not think about bakugo. to not think about how domestically warm and confortable it would be to cook with the boy if you were a little bit more than friends.

and then you blink three times remembering you were at best his colleague and you shouldn't be thinking this just because of an exchange of 30 minutes and a few swift but blazing conversations.

but it's a reasonable crush if we analyze the bigger picture.

you're not one with much confidence, and even though you're not one with many romantic experience too it's an understandable situation having a bloom of emotions when you finally have nice exchanges with the person you admire the most in class.

right?

four weeks later, saturday happened.

you've been doing good in training and even your studing sessons were making you proud so you decided to give yourself a deserving movie night.

things were great when you watched a movie and then another one but you decided you wanted a sweet popcorn to accompany you with the third one. and that went terribly wrong.

which is where you are now, looking at whatever annomaly you were swiping in the frying pan.

"of course you're involved with that god awful smell." he grunts from a few meters behind you and you're not sure how you didn't hit his head with how far you jolted.

"fucking hell bakugo!" you turn to him and it's noticible he’s trying to hold the little smirk in the corner of his mouth. don’t look that way. "how does an angry bird like you have such a light feet?"

"by not wanting to wake the losers" he concludes coming closer to you to discover what was happening at the crime scene.

oh! he smells good.

at 5am? criminal. cinnamon but with a touch of sandalwood. you truly wanted him to give you a prolonged hug.

"you are a fucking dimwit." he grimaced.

"i'm not great with new recipes!" you didn't have a single argument this time.

"ruin popcorn it's a new level." he walked towards the trash and opened. it's kind of a superpower that his expression alone could criticize so many aspects of a person.

you defeatedly walked to him with the pan in hands and threw its content in the trash.

"hopeless." he whispered as he took the object from you and walked to the sink.

you pout and make way to sit in your stool by the counter.

"i make a neat rice." you whisper back.

he immeditaly let out a chuckle. "i bet."

why were you still here was a question you'd burned with the imaginary popcorn. so it took you while to say anything,

"i remember in second year," really nice of them to keep replacing the m&m's in the jar. it was a good distraction look for the yellow ones. "when we were celebrating jiro's birthday and everybody was outside, i was going back inside to refil my water cup when i heard kaminari's voice desperately apologizing-"

a loud noice startled you. it sounded like a pot hitting the sink. you're not to make assumptions but it felt like he knew where you were going.

so you kept talking. "and suddendly you barked at him to shup up-"

"i didn't fucking bark-" he interrupted snarling. oh he was so sweet.

"-turns out he accidentally ruined a small part of her cake and you fixed it in record time. and didn't even eat it. i'm quite sure you went to bed after the happy birthday" you interrupted his interruption.

it was a quiet night so by the sounds you could identify that he started to do whatever he was doing a bit more angryly.

"cakes are stupid." he rumbles.

"they are important on birthdays."

"fucking dunce face can't keep his mouth shut-" him angrily replying with his back to you was a bit comical.

"in his defense" in the counter, you make a heart with the yellow m&m's you haven't eaten yet. "i traded this information giving him my piece of the cake that day."

you glace up and he was still treating the food with rage. "because surprisingly i'm not a big fan of cakes."

"weird coming from someone with the most crappy eating habits."

"i know, right?" you answer and he doesn’t respond. you fill the little heart with the red m&m's.

you take a deep breath.

"it was nice of you" you look up. "the number one spot is in safe hands."

he stilled. for about 7 seconds.

then he started to move again. calmly. you start to eat the yellow m&m's and after a while of him preparing his perfect little breakfast he speaks again.

"you being a sting in my ass since last year and telling me proudly." he says, his voice a bit more deep and cemented.

"yes, i like to think i'm a nice little bee." you admit.

"HA!" his rough laugh invaded the room.

"they're pretty and united and very important-"

"will you include the part they make honey and you can"t cook for shit?"

"it's a team work!" you defend. "don't you think that when a bee has problems with her honey, another one doesn't come to help?"

now you try to hold your laughter from your own statement.

"that's just pathetic." he answers.

"you're just not a bee." you resolve. you start to eat the red m&m's left. "you're more like a lone wasp. they're big and quite prett-"

your discourse is interrupted when a small bowl is strongly put in front of you spreading the red dots.

"hey!" you're about to protest when its contents finally loads in your brain.

it's popcorn.

with chocolate.

you feel the little bees in your stomach make a mess. a pure and chaotically comforting emotion fill your heart and there is no going back now. how can a furious boy make you breathe so peacefully?

when you finally come back to the moment and look up he immediately turns around and goes back to the stove.

"bakugo-"

"no." his tone heavy and definitive.

you take a deep breath and try to relax. not fighting the small smile in your face anymore.

"bakugo." your tone soft but as decisive as his.

he fights for a second but turns to you with a locked jaw. his eyes the sharpest you've ever seen, giving you nothing to unravel before going to sleep.

"thank you." and with that you leave the kitchen.

── ☆ ──

the following week you felt like suffocating but also very fucking joyful.

nothing prominent changes in your rotine. you're still dedicated to have a good sleeping pattern and things with you and bakugo haven't changed. and you weren't expecting them to.

but you needed saturday to come.

you were going to be there on purpose this time. and you were fiercily holding the ballon of insecurities screaming that you were too in clouds of your emotions to not think your decision carefully.

so it's 5:37 when you're getting closer to the kitchen, the familiar hiss and chopping of the food capturing the place making you shiver for some reason.

a well known reason but whatever.

you gently pull your usual stool to sit on it and your eyes lock to his figure, who froze for a millisecond when you made the sound.

your hand automatically made way to the mini jar that lived in the counter only to find nothing there.

you whip around to glare at him.

"who did you threatened to blow to get my m&m's removed?"

he took his time finishing whatever he was doing and turned to you very slowly. to have his attention on you once again sent intense shivers all over your body.

"why am i involved?" he soflty replies and you think you like his voice a little too much.

"you're always involved."

"always?"

"yep." you nod.

he leans his body back on the sink putting his hands on his pockets. boy, it's really fucking unffair to be heavenly beautiful like this.

you pout. "i just want my yellow m&m's back."

and then. and then

he measures your face before taking his right hand out of his pocked, setting a yellow m&m on his tongue and closing his mouth.

"come get it." he replies nonchantly.

your body suddenly feels solid and your blood it's cathing on fire. there is no way this scene wasn’t a creation of your most desired dream that was buried deep in your consciousness.

"well?" he arches one eyebrow and you blink. twice.

you decide in a millisecond to fight fire with fire. you're not a confident person but you could pretend to be.

you get off the stool and walk around the counter, only to sit on it placing yourself not far from him. you feel his eyes piercing you until yours met his.

"someone told me once i don’t even do the bare minimum…" you motioned to the empty space where the jar used to be “why would i go there if it can come to me?”

you hold his gaze while he took four steps to arrive and place himself between your legs.

he’s fixated on your mouth while you decide your favorite color is the color of his hair.

his slight smirk felt like an illusion when he breathes in your mouth “you little minx.”

then his mouth was against yours.

his hand found the back of your head making he deepen the kiss deliciously firme. a kiss as intense and imposing and skilled as the boy.

your hands made their way to his hair and it felt like a fervent dream when his own hands were now behind your thighs pulling you illogically close to him. his tongue ardent against yours making your whole body melt in his and when you scrap where his hair meets his neck his throat makes a guttural noise. you wanted to overflow in him.

when you pulled apart you’re a bit dizzy.

“you taste like chocolate.” you blur out.

placing his hands on your jaw he touches featherly your mouth with his tumb.

“why don’t you let me find out what you taste like, brat?”

[kefiteria]

I mean, if you’re looking for a cute headcannon prompt, I think Sebek reacting to being accidentally courted is cute and funny

How You (Accidentally) Court Sebek Zigvolt and Break His Brain In Seven Faeromantic Steps🪻

pairing: Sebek X Reader!

tags: fluff, accidentally overpowered in love rituals, 200% more flustered Sebek

Step 1: You Give Him Moonfruit Wrapped in White Heather

Your intention: “Funky lil night snack. Enjoy!”

Sebek's brain: ‘MOONFRUIT WRAPPED IN WHITE HEATHER??? THEY MIGHT AS WELL HAVE KNELT WITH A RING.’

Cue Sebek (audibly choking): “Y-YOU… W-WHAT POSSESSED YOU TO OFFER SUCH A THING?!”

You: “…Vitamin C?”

Sebek (frantic whisper): “The last person who gave this to someone started a war over fae marriage rites!”

He doesn’t sleep that night. He lies awake. Holding the fruit like it's a cursed object.

Then buries it. Then digs it up again. Then buries it deeper.

Step 2: You Buff His Armor With Hawthorn Oil 🛡️

Your intention: “✨Spa Day for Iron Armor✨”

Sebek's reaction: Full body STIFFEN. Actual shudder. Like you just ran a love confession down his spine.

Sebek (yelping): “HAWTHORN?! OIL?! ON MY ARMOR?! D-DO YOU KNOW WHAT YOU’VE DONE?!”

You: “…Cleaned it?”

Sebek (face redder than a lava core): “YOU’VE BOUND YOUR PRESENCE TO MY BATTLE AURA!!”

He immediately tries to remove the oil. But it’s absorbed.

The armor now smells like you. He panics harder.

He starts considering exile.

🌿 Step 3: You Tuck Honeysuckle Behind His Ear

Your intention: “You look like a stressed-out romance novel character. Here.”

Sebek: Broken. Utterly. Devastated. Spiritually compromised.

Sebek (hissing): “D-DO NOT PLACE SYMBOLIC BLOOMS UPON MY FACE!!”

You: “Why not? It’s cute.”

Sebek: “CUTE?!? IT’S A SYMBOL OF POSSESSIVE DESIRE IN COURTSHIP—DO YOU WISH TO BE TRIED BY THE FAE LAWS OF HONOR?!”

He doesn’t remove the flower.

He just blushes so hard it wilts off his skin.

🌼 Step 4: You Leave Him a Bouquet of Primroses at Twilight

Your intention: “He seemed cranky. This is my flower-language for ‘chill out, king.’”

Sebek’s response: Completely silent. Holding the bouquet like it’s an explosive.

Sebek: “Why… why would you give me…seven primroses…under the star's first gaze…?”

You: “…That’s how many I could pick before my fingers got cold?”

Sebek (voice cracking like broken glass): “You just performed a sacred vow exchange ritual accidentally.”

He almost gives them back. Then realizes giving them back would worsen it.

He walks around holding them like cursed relics. Silver tray and all.

🍀 Step 5: You Weave Sweet Clover into His Hair

Your intention: “You’ve got a beautiful hair. Let me style it. This is a gift to me.”

Sebek’s reaction: Full fae knight system crash.

Sebek (hyperventilating): “W-WHY WOULD YOU TANGLE A CROWN OF CLOVER INTO MY SCALP?? D-DO YOU LONG TO BE WED IN THE FAE MANNER?!”

You: “Oi calm down, I was making you Pinterest-core!”

He freezes so hard he stands in the hallway for ten straight minutes.

Silver sighs walking past him. Malleus tilts his head. Lilia takes a photo.

❄️ Step 6: You Leave a Snowdrop at His Door at Dawn

Your intention: “He’s up early. I’m up early. We’re just ✨early✨”

Sebek’s reaction: He doesn’t see the flower. He sees his entire romantic destiny laid bare on stone.

Sebek (whispering): “A…dawndrop…by my threshold. Their promise of guidance through hardship. S-soft petals…soulbound intention…”

You: “What.”

Sebek (wheezing): “WHY MUST YOU WOO ME AT SUNRISE?!!”

He ends up carrying the snowdrop in his glove all day like it’s a holy relic.

He refuses to explain why. No one believes him anyway.

🌹 Step 7: You Drop a Red Rose Petal on His Desk

Your intention: “Aesthetic.”

Sebek’s interpretation: YOU JUST GAVE HIM YOUR HEART AND DECLARED JOINT MILITARY ALLIANCE.

Sebek: “A single petal. The sign of blood-sworn unity on a chosen battlefield. You—You’ve waged love upon me!!”

You: “…Do you need a nap?”

He straight up knocks over the desk and declares a 24-hour vow of silence.

No one knows if he’s praying or crying.

The Grand Sebek Breakdown

Finally, at the end of this romantic rampage, Sebek corners you in the library, cloak flaring, ears red, and he SLAMS his hands on the table:

Sebek: “ARE YOU COURTING ME—OR DO YOU SIMPLY HAVE A DEATH WISH?!!”

You: “Huh? I gave you fruit, flowers, and hair clips. You’re acting like I proposed under a blood moon.”

Sebek (sputtering, vibrating): “THOSE ARE PROPOSALS UNDER A BLOOD MOON!! IN FAE TERMS!! IN MY CULTURE!! YOU’VE PERFORMED SEVEN RITES!!”

You: “… That explains a lot, actually.”

He short-circuits. He just turns around and walks directly into a bookcase.

Silver sighs again. Lilia’s laughing so hard he falls out of the rafters.

[artemiszy]

I read your Hades x Persephone reader story when the seasons changed, and I loved it. Is it okay to request a story about Poseidon and Amphitrite reader? If it's okay with you?

THE WRATH OF THE SEA | Poseidon X Reader

Poseidon x Amphitrite!Reader | Record of Ragnarok

"In which the fearsome sea god is furious, and perhaps a wife can give him some peace."

WARNING. poseidon being himself(a little shit). forced relationship. FEMALE READER

The waters, normally an extension of Poseidon's serene power, were now in constant turmoil. High, violent waves crashed against the shores, dragging away boats and leaving the skies covered in dark, threatening clouds. Fishermen were afraid to venture out to sea, and the usually peaceful sea creatures were restless, as if sensing the anger emanating from the depths.

Poseidon, the God of the Sea, rarely showed his emotions so openly, but in recent days, even the other gods had begun to realize that something was terribly wrong. Deep in the ocean, his palace of coral and precious stones was shrouded in a heavy atmosphere. Marine guardians and servants moved silently, fearful of disturbing their lord. Poseidon himself remained on his throne, his eyes fixed on a distant point, as if searching for something that even he could not define.

In the great hall of the Council of Valhalla, where the gods gathered to discuss the fate of the world, the tension was palpable. The thrones were occupied by the powerful deities, but there was a notable emptiness; Poseidon's place was unoccupied. He, who should have been present to discuss the matters affecting his domain, had isolated himself, absent both in body and spirit.

— "There is something wrong with the seas." — One of the gods began as the others murmured throughout the vast hall. — "Poseidon is not at peace, and his unrest is affecting our entire domain."

— "And what should we do?" — Another god questioned. — "We cannot allow the outburst of a single enraged god to cause irreparable damage."

— "Then let us send someone to confront him!" — Proposed another god with a determination that bordered on enthusiasm, perhaps a god of war, be it Ares or from another pantheon. — "Perhaps some powerful creature, a titan, or even an army of monsters or gods. That should calm him down."

Before another god could answer, two black ravens, Hugin and Munin, Odin's messengers, flew into the hall, landing on the arm of their master's throne. Odin, the father of all, tilted his head slightly, as if he were hearing a whisper that only he could understand, his wise eyes turned to Zeus.

Zeus, the king of the gods, held his hand up signaling for everyone to be silent, then the old-looking god put his hands behind his back and began to laugh a few short times.

— "Brute force will not solve this problem." — Zeus informed, in the center where his throne was. — "What my brother needs is something more... delicate. Poseidon has always been lonely, even among us. He needs someone who can bring balance, calm the chaos that is in his soul." — And then he announced it to everyone as if it were a simple and obvious solution. — "My brother must marry."

Zeus's suggestion hung in the air like a bolt of lightning about to strike. There was a murmur among the gods, who exchanged uncertain glances. The idea of ​​Poseidon, the ruthless and secretive tyrant of the seas, marrying was almost inconceivable. However, the circumstances called for extraordinary measures, and everyone there knew it.

And who, among the many deities, nymphs, and other beings, would be capable of assuming such a role?

Odin, the wise father of all, who had remained silent until then, nodded slowly, his long beard swaying slightly.

— "Balance is the key to avoiding chaos." — Odin said, his deep voice filled with ancient wisdom, silencing everyone else with only his powerful aura. — "A marriage could provide that balance. But who would be capable of uniting with Poseidon?"

The question hung in the air, with no immediate answer. The gods knew that finding a wife for Poseidon would be no easy task. The choice should be made with caution, for this union was not merely a matter of love or desire, but a necessity to preserve the order of the seas.

— "Let me handle it." — Zeus waved one of his hands in a relaxed manner. — "I know my brother very well. We will calm the seas, and he will find the peace he so seeks."

The murmurs grew in volume, but no one openly disagreed with the suggestion, although they had their doubts. The idea of ​​the merciless God of the Seas of the Greek pantheon who was capable of even terrorizing other deities, and marrying seemed like a distant idea.

Zeus turned his gaze to Poseidon's throne in the council of Valhalla, which, at all times, was empty. His brother was absent from the meeting, wrapped in his own internal storm. Zeus knew that to persuade Poseidon, it would take more than words or orders. It was a matter of making him realize that, without balance, even the most powerful could fall.

— "I will speak with him." — Zeus declared at last, banging the gavel. — "And with that, I declare the meeting closed."

In the heart of the ocean, far below the tumultuous surfaces where the storms raged, tranquility still reigned. It was there, in the depths, where the currents were gentle and the sunlight was only a distant whisper, that (Name) and her sisters, the Nereids, spent their days. (Name), the oldest and most beautiful of the sisters, was known for her kindness and grace, virtues that made her beloved among all the creatures of the sea.

On that particular day, the sea was rougher than usual, even in the depths where the Nereids usually gathered. However, (Name) and her sisters did not allow the tumult of the waters to interrupt their moment of fun. They were on a reef near the surface, where the currents brought a refreshing sensation, and the environment was perfect for their games.

— "(Name), look at that wave!" — Shouted one of the Nereids, laughing as she glided along the crest of a wave that was forming over the reef. — "It's taller than anything we've ever seen!"

(Name) smiled, her (e/c) shining with the light filtering through the water. She was about to answer when a distinct movement caught her attention. Two figures were approaching the reef, their imposing outlines quickly recognized by all the Nereids. It was Zeus, the king of the gods, accompanied by his older brother, Poseidon.

— "Look there..." — Murmured one of the Nereids, bowing slightly to them.

The Nereids, always respectful, moved away discreetly, leaving the way clear for the gods to approach. (Name), however, felt her heart accelerate unexpectedly. Poseidon, the god of the seas, was a figure that inspired fear. She only knew him from afar, from the stories told by the others, and from the austere presence he maintained over his domain. But now, he was there, in front of her, and his eyes seemed fixed on her in a way that made her stomach turn.

— "The sea is rough today, brother." — Zeus commented, his tone carrying a lightness that contrasted with the gravity of the situation. He cast a playful glance at Poseidon. — "But it seems you found something that caught your attention."

Poseidon, always austere and rigid in posture, gave Zeus a stern look, but did not respond immediately. His eyes, however, betrayed his interest. He observed (Name) with an intensity that he could not hide, even from himself. It was as if, in that moment, the rest of the world became irrelevant, and only (Name)'s graceful figure mattered.

— "She is... interesting." — Poseidon finally murmured, more to himself than to his brother.

Zeus let out a low laugh, noticing Poseidon's rare tone of voice, which almost seemed like a glimpse of vulnerability.

— "Different, yes. Maybe that's exactly what you need, brother." — Zeus said, with a mischievous smile on his lips behind his long white beard. — "Who knows, a wife to calm the seas?"

Poseidon looked at Zeus with sharp eyes, but did not argue. Instead, his thoughts began to fixate on the idea, something he had never considered before. Zeus's suggestion, although made with a playful tone, planted a seed in his mind.

Meanwhile, (Name), unaware of the conversations that were happening between the gods, went back to playing with her sisters, but the weight of Poseidon's gaze did not leave her mind. She tried to focus on the laughter and fun around her, but a part of her consciousness was alert, feeling that something was changing.

The days passed, but (Name)'s mind kept returning to that strange and silent encounter with the god of the seas. She tried not to think about it too much, but something inside her knew that that moment, that look, held more meaning than she could understand.

Until one night, when the waters were calmer and the sky shone with the starlight reflected on the surface, (Name) was alone, lost in thought. She had moved away from her sisters, seeking a moment of peace in a deeper corner of the ocean, where the currents were gentle and the rarefied light created an atmosphere of stillness.

It was in this moment of solitude that (Name) heard, in the distance, a whispered conversation that made her stop. Curious, she swam towards the source of the sound, hiding in the shadows so as not to be noticed. Her ears caught the voice of her father, Nereus, in discussion with figures she did not immediately recognize, but who seemed to exude an unfamiliar authority.

— "We will calm the seas when Poseidon is satisfied." — Said one of the voices, deep and emotionless. — "He needs a mate, someone who can calm his fury."

(Name) felt a chill run through her body. They were talking about Poseidon and his need for a wife, her mind began to connect the dots quickly, and a feeling of unease settled in her heart.

— "But who would be worthy of such a role?" — Nereus asked, with a worried tone.

Before the answer came, (Name) heard a whisper from her sisters, who were closer, but still out of sight hiding in some corner. They were talking among themselves, and the word "marriage" reached (Name)'s ears clearly, followed by her own name. She held her breath, her heart racing.

— "It can't be..." — She murmured to herself, backing away slowly, fear forming in her chest.

Without waiting for more, (Name) turned and swam as fast as she could away, the sound of her own heart drowning out any other thoughts. She didn't stop until she found a safe haven, away from the disturbing conversation, but her mind was in turmoil. Poseidon, the god of the seas, was being pressured to marry. And the looks he had given her, the whispered conversations, everything pointed to a single, terrible conclusion.

For days, (Name) tried to avoid thinking about the subject, but the idea that she might be considered for marriage to Poseidon was something she couldn't shake. She felt torn between duty and her own desire for freedom. However, before she could make any decision, her destiny caught up with her.

On a night when the full moon illuminated the waters with a pale glow, (Name) was alone, once again, near a coral reef. The environment, which would normally calm her, now seemed suffocating. She couldn't shake the thoughts of Poseidon, and what it could mean for her future.

Suddenly, the sea around her began to change, the waters, previously calm, began to swirl slowly, creating a growing whirlpool. (Name) felt a fear plant itself in her chest even before she saw the imposing figure of Poseidon emerge from the center of the current, his rigid posture and icy gaze made it clear that he was not there for trivial conversations.

— "(Name)." — His voice echoed like a raging ocean, filling around them, despite being in a calm tone. — "You will be my wife."

The statement was more of an order than a request, and Poseidon's intimidating aura made (Name)'s heart beat even faster. She instinctively backed away, fear taking over her senses.

— "I... can't..." — She shivered, trying to find words that wouldn't come. Poseidon's overwhelming presence made her feel small, insignificant.

Poseidon stepped forward, his face impassive but his eyes betraying the fury contained within him. He wasn't used to being challenged, and the idea that (Name) could refuse his proposal, or rather, his demand, seemed inconceivable to him.

— "You will be my wife." — He repeated, even more firmly, as if his will could bend reality around him.

(Name), in a panic, took one last look at the god of the seas before turning and fleeing. She swam with all her strength, her desperate movements creating a trail of bubbles behind her. Poseidon watched her escape, his eyes narrowing, and the sea around his began to churn violently, reflecting the storm brewing within his soul.

As (Name) disappeared into the darkness of the depths, Poseidon remained behind, his anger growing by the second. The seas began to roar in response.

(Name)’s escape was not just an act of desperation, but a catalyst that threw the ocean into even greater chaos. Her refusal and fear in the face of Poseidon had wounded the god’s pride, and he was not one to be challenged, least of all by someone he believed had a right to claim. While (Name) dove into the darkest depths of the ocean, seeking refuge in the vastness of the sea, Poseidon remained on the reef, his face a mask of coldness as anger bubbled within him.

The currents around the world began to go haywire, the tides became dangerously unpredictable, and the waves swept across lands with a fury that made even the gods fear the worst. In Valhalla, the Council met again, this time under much more serious circumstances.

The great hall was filled with worried murmurs. The gods were restless, aware that Poseidon's destructive power was not something that could be easily contained. Odin, sitting on his throne, watched the unfolding chaos with stern eyes. His ravens, Hugin and Munin, flew around the hall, their caws adding an even more ominous tone to the atmosphere.

— "The seas are out of control!"— Said one of the gods, his voice thick with concern. — "If this continues, there may be a catastrophe that not even we can foresee!"

Zeus, who sat on his throne in the center, remained neutral, but the way his nails scratched hard on the arms of his throne suggested that not even the king of the gods had been able to foresee this. He knew that Poseidon's wrath was as much a force of nature as a reflection of his brother's emotional state. And now, that wrath was being manifested in a way that threatened to become even more dangerous.

— "We cannot ignore this any longer." — Zeus said, his eyes darkening beneath his thick brows as he looked at the other assembled gods. — "We must find a solution, before it is too late."

Hugin landed on Odin's shoulder, his voice rough and full of knowledge.

— "Poseidon will not be appeased until he has what he desires!" — The raven said, his words echoing through the hall.

Munin, flying close behind, added in a somber tone. — "And what he desires, he believes is rightfully his!"

Odin nodded slowly, his thoughts immersed in possibilities and consequences. Poseidon's stubbornness was well known, and it was wise to recognize that forcing the god of the seas to bow to the will of the Council would not only be difficult, but potentially disastrous.

Zeus, on the other hand, was determined to resolve the situation once and for all. He knew there was only one thing that could calm his brother, the presence of (Name) by his side. But finding the Nereid, who had hidden herself in the depths, would be no easy task.

— “I will go and solve this myself.” — Zeus declared, his voice firm. — “If it is the Nereid that Poseidon desires, then we will bring her to him. But this must be done carefully. We cannot risk making the situation any worse.”

The other gods agreed. As the Council dispersed, Zeus’s thoughts were focused on one thing: finding (Name) before the sea became a destructive force beyond any control. He knew where to begin his search, for even the vast ocean could not hide its secrets from a god.

He remembered Doris, the mother of the Nereids, who had a strong bond with (Name) and knew all the secrets of the ocean. Doris was the only one who knew exactly where her daughter was hiding, and Zeus knew he could use that to his advantage.

At the bottom of the ocean, Doris was in her sea cave on the surface, worried about (Name)'s fate and the chaos that was ravaging the seas. She felt the weight of responsibility, knowing that her knowledge could either save or destroy.

It was at that moment that Zeus appeared, his imposing presence filling the narrow space of the cave, his eyes glowed yellow, but there was also a calculating coldness in his gaze.

— "Doris, I need your help." — Zeus said, his voice reverberating through the walls of the cave despite his calm tone.

Doris, although she respected the king of the gods, felt a shiver run down her spine. She knew he had not come here without a dark purpose.

— "What do you wish, Lord Zeus?" — She asked, her voice cautious.

— "You know where (Name) is hiding," — Zeus stated bluntly. — "And we need to bring her back to Poseidon before things get worse."

Doris was silent for a moment, her eyes falling to the ground. She knew that betraying her daughter's trust would mean losing her love forever, but she also knew that denying Zeus could have dire consequences.

— "I cannot force my own daughter into something she does not want..." — Doris finally answered. — "She fears Poseidon, and rightly so."

Zeus, unmoved, stepped closer, his presence overwhelming. — "I do not ask you to force her," — He said, his voice soft but filled with veiled threat. — "I ask you to convince her, to use your motherly love to bring her back willingly. Tell her whatever it takes to make her return."

Doris felt her heart sink, but she knew she had no choice. If she didn't act, the sea would continue to rage, and Poseidon's fury would not be contained, and Zeus didn't seem like the type to take "no" for an answer without terrible punishment.

With a resigned nod, she agreed. Zeus knew he had gotten what he wanted, and disappeared, leaving Doris alone with her thoughts and her difficult mission.

(Name), hidden in a cave at the bottom of the sea, felt the weight of the world on her shoulders. She could feel Poseidon's fury in the waters that surrounded her, and she knew she couldn't hide forever. But fear paralyzed her, the fear of being forced into a fate she had not chosen.

Alone and desperate, (Name) wondered if there was any way to escape her situation. But at the same time, a part of her knew that the sea, with all its vastness and secrets, was Poseidon's domain. And in his domain, no one could hide forever.

It was then that she heard a familiar voice, sweet and comforting, calling her from outside the cave.

— "(Name), it's me, your mother, Doris." — The voice called. — "I need to talk to you, my daughter."

(Name) hesitated for a moment, but then ran to the cave entrance, relieved to see her mother. She threw herself into Doris's arms, seeking comfort in the familiar warmth.

— "Mom, I'm so scared..." — (Name) confessed, her voice breaking. — "Poseidon... I can't go back to him."

Doris held her daughter's face, looking into her eyes with a mixture of love and pain. She knew what she needed to do, but that didn't make the task any easier.

— "I understand your fear, my dear." — Doris began softly. — "But what you don't know is that Poseidon's fury isn't just anger... it's pain. The sea is in chaos, and he needs you by his side to find some kind of peace."

(Name) shook her head, still hesitant. — "But he's going to force me to be his wife." — She whispered. — "I can't live like this."

Doris sighed, trying to hide the pain in her heart.

— "Poseidon promised he won't force you." — She said, lying softly. — "He just wants to talk to you, to understand what you want. If you don't want to stay, he'll let you go, but first, he needs you to restore the balance of the seas. Everthing depends on you, my daughter."

(Name), despite her doubts, began to give in. She wanted to believe her mother's words, in the love Doris had always shown her. If there was a chance to prevent the destruction of the world and restore peace, maybe she should at least try.

— "Okay... Mom." (Name) said reluctantly. — "I'll go with you, but only to talk to him. If he tries to force me, I'll run away again."

Doris smiled, though her heart was heavy. — "I'll be by your side, don't worry. Everything will be fine."

Upon returning to Poseidon's kingdom, (Name) was immediately greeted by the tyrant of the seas. His eyes were filled with a mix of desire and fury, despite his neutral expression.

— "(Name)." — Poseidon said, his voice deep. — "Finally, you've come back to me."

(Name) stood her ground, trying to remember her mother's words. — "I have returned, Poseidon, but only to talk. Do not force me to do anything, or I will leave again."

Poseidon smiled, a smile that did not reach his eyes. — "We will talk, my dear."

He promised, but (Name) could feel the weight of his will, the power he exerted over the ocean and over her. As Doris watched, she knew she had thrown her daughter into the clutches of the sea monster, but she also knew there was no other choice. The world was at stake, and sometimes, even a mother's love had to be sacrificed for the greater good.

And so, (Name)'s fate was in Poseidon's hands, and the future of the seas was uncertain as never before.

[yesihaveaobsession]

A Well- Tailored Affair

Alastor x female! reader

Summary: Being The Radio Demon's one and only personal tailor has it own perks.

A/N- Sorry I have been gone for quite some time!! But I'm back, I had NOOOOOO idea what to write and this thought came to me mid sleep at like 12am So anyways I hope you enjoy!

ALSO this was gonna proofread because I didn't have time and I missed yall so sorry if it sucks 💀

Being a tailor in Hell was no small feat, especially when your main client was none other than the Radio Demon himself, Alastor. When you first took the job, you didn’t expect it to be much of a challenge working with his specific tastes. But over time, you came to know him like the back of your hand.

Today, he was scheduled for a fitting. He had dropped off a newer jacket last week but he said he had business to attend to and he'd come back next week and that was today. As always, the atmosphere of your small shop—which wasn’t far from the hotel—was calm and cozy. You were currently cross-stitching a dress for Rosie for some type of event in Cannibal Town when, suddenly, the bell above the door jingled. There he was. Alastor stepped inside with his signature grin, accompanied by the hum of radio static. The aura he carried was palpable. The moment he entered, you could feel the air shift.

"Ah, my favorite tailor!" he exclaimed, spreading his arms wide before resting his hands on the microphone in front of him. With a slight tilt of his head, he asked, "Have you missed me?"

You chuckled softly, stepping away from your work and already reaching for the measuring tape. "You were here last week, Alastor. Hardly enough time to miss anyone." You smiled. His grin didn’t falter, though you didn’t notice how his crimson eyes lingered on you longer than usual. Truth be told, Alastor liked you. More than he should, and more than he realized. Part of it was the trust he placed in you to handle his precious suits, which were such a vital part of who he was. But it was also because you treated them with such grace. You knew what you were doing and were exceptional at it. Not to mention, you were one of the rare souls in Hell who wasn’t afraid of him. And lastly, you were undeniably pretty—he thought that too.

"Ah, but a week without your company is an eternity, my dear," Alastor replied. You brushed off his words with a smile. He often gave small, sweet compliments about your work and how he missed you, so this wasn’t anything new. Yet today, his words seemed to carry a different meaning.

You rolled your eyes playfully, motioning for him to step onto the fitting platform. In front of him was a large mirror—he loved checking his reflection to ensure he always looked impeccable. "Alright, charmer, let’s see what we’re working with today. Did you tear another sleeve during one of your dramatics?" you teased, looking from the sleeve up into his eyes.

He let out a melodic laugh. "Guilty as charged! I simply cannot help myself. Life—or afterlife, rather—demands a flair for the theatrical!"

As you worked, your hands expertly adjusted the fabric of his jacket. You noticed his gaze drifting to you frequently. At first, you thought he might be scrutinizing your technique, but no—this was different. His grin softened ever so slightly whenever he thought you weren’t looking. Watching your focused expression gave him an odd fluttering sensation, almost like butterflies in his stomach.

"You’re very precise," he remarked, his voice quieter than usual.

"Kind of comes with the job," you replied with a smile, pinning a sleeve in place. "Can’t have the Radio Demon walking around in anything less than perfection, right?"

"Indeed. And you, my dear, are perfection. I must confess, I’ve never trusted anyone else with my suits. You have an extraordinary talent."

You paused, caught off guard by the bold confession—especially coming from him. "Thank you, Alastor. That means a lot," you said, grabbing the needle and thread.

"And," he added, tilting his head as though studying a particularly fascinating piece of art, "it doesn’t hurt that you’re quite easy on the eyes." Was he kidding? He had to be, right? Your cheeks flushed instantly, and you nearly dropped the pin you were holding. "Oh! Uh, thanks."

He noticed your reaction and chuckled, clearly amused. "Did I fluster you? My, my, how delightful!" Alastor grinned, watching you through the mirror. You cleared your throat, trying to regain your composure. "Stop moving," you muttered, focusing on adjusting the flaps on his suit. You finished stitching up the rip on his sleeve with a clean, neat stitch—it was a relatively easy fix.

The silence grew heavy until he broke it. "You’re one of the only few who doesn’t fear me, you know… It’s refreshing."

"Well, I figured if you were going to do something to me, you would’ve done it already," you replied with a smirk, stepping back to admire your work. Alastor’s grin widened. "Perhaps. Or perhaps I find your company far too enjoyable to spoil."

You shook your head, laughing softly. "Alright, smooth talker, you’re good to go. You can come and pick it up in 24 hours." You watched as he stepped down from the platform, adjusted his jacket, the one he came in with and turned to face you. "Splendid! I’ll be counting the seconds until I see your lovely presence again!" He started toward the door but paused, looking back over his shoulder with that ever-present grin. "Oh, and my dear, do save a moment for tea when I return. I’d like to enjoy more of your delightful company." You smiled, shaking your head. "You better not rip your coat on purpose in the next 24 hours!" you shouted after him.

You heard his laugh echo as he left, leaving you standing in the middle of your shop, flustered and smiling despite yourself. Maybe being Alastor’s tailor wasn’t so bad after all.