#there’s like at least two other characters | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

loojii · 16 hours ago

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♥️ Prim and Proper ♥️

I've been asked before about more info about these silly characters of mine and even though I hoped to draw most of it I thought it would be nice to write it down too. I am not English or the best writer so I did ask chat GPT to format it better for me!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Riddle x King of Hearts oc Simply how they met and to communicate Prim's personality a bit better! Like the King of Hearts, often forgotten but happy :) ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Story under the line ~

Riddle’s POV

The Night Raven College library was Riddle Rosehearts’ haven—a place where rules were respected, order was preserved, and silence reigned supreme. At least, it was supposed to.

The soft symphony of pages turning and quills scratching was disrupted by bursts of giggling and whispers. Riddle’s brows furrowed, his concentration shattered.

The offenders were four girls from Lady Mystic College, currently permitted to use the library while their own was under renovation. They sat at a table in the far corner, their uniforms pristine and polished, yet their behavior anything but.

Three of them leaned in close, whispering and snickering, their laughter bubbling up despite the clear disapproval of nearby students. The fourth girl, however, sat quietly at the edge of the group.

Riddle hadn’t noticed her at first, his irritation focused on the noise. But as he rose from his seat and made his way toward them, she caught his eye.

She was smaller than her friends, with blonde curls tied into two neat pigtails. Her dark blue eyes flitted nervously between her tablemates and the books in front of her. Braces gleamed faintly while her upperlip rested on them. Unlike her companions, she seemed more like an observer than a participant.

“Excuse me,” Riddle said sharply as he reached their table.

The three louder girls turned to him, blinking in mock surprise. “Oh, hi!” one of them said, her smile overly sweet.

“This is a library,” Riddle stated, his tone clipped. “Your noise is disrupting others. Please keep your voices down.”

The girls exchanged glances and giggled again. “Sorry about that,” another said, though her tone suggested she wasn’t sorry at all.

The fourth girl looked up at him, her cheeks flushing pink. “I—I’m so sorry,” she stammered. Her hands fidgeted with the edge of her book. “We will be quiet, promise!”

Riddle’s frown softened slightly. She seemed genuinely apologetic, unlike her companions. But rules were rules, and they all bore responsibility for their collective behavior.

“Just keep it down,” he said, turning on his heel and walking away.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Later, Riddle found himself standing in front of a particularly tall bookshelf, searching for a volume on advanced spell theory. The book he needed was on the highest shelf, just out of reach.

He huffed, rising onto his toes, but it was no use. He debated summoning a step stool when a familiar voice broke through his thoughts.

“Um... Excuse me,” the soft, slightly lisped voice said.

Riddle turned to see the blonde girl from earlier standing a few feet away. She was craning her neck, gazing up at a book several shelves above her head.

“I didn’t mean to bother you,” she said quickly, flushing again. “It’s just... I can’t reach it.”

Riddle glanced between her and the book. “Neither can I,” he admitted dryly, stepping closer.

Her lips twitched into a sheepish smile. “Oh, yeah-” she said, hugging her arms.

Riddle sighed, lifting his hand. With a precise flick of his fingers, the book floated down from the shelf, landing neatly in his grasp.

The girl’s eyes widened, a spark of wonder lighting them. “Wow! That’s so cool,” she said, her tone full of genuine awe.

“It’s basic magic,” Riddle replied, though he couldn’t help the slight warmth that rose at her reaction. He handed her the book.

“Thank you,” she said, her braces glinting as she smiled. “I’m Prim, by the way. I, um, wanted to apologize again that we were so noisy.”

Riddle studied her for a moment. There was a cheerfulness about her, a childlike wonder that seemed at odds with her companions. “Riddle.” introducing himself. “And it wasn’t entirely your fault.”

Prim hesitated, her expression flickering with something uncertain. “They’re not always like that,” she said, though her tone lacked conviction. “I think they just... like having fun.”

“Just make sure to not disturb others when you’re in a public library. We prefer this place to be quiet.” Riddle said, not to scold her but he feared it may have sounded like that.

“No, you’re absolutely right! It’s basic rules.” She looked down at the book Riddle just got for her. “Thank you again, Riddle!”

Riddle responded with a simple nod and she hugged the book to her chest and turned back toward her table. Riddle watched her go, noting the way her steps seemed lighter, more confident.

For the rest of the afternoon, the library was quiet. But Riddle found himself distracted, his thoughts lingering on the small girl with the blonde pigtails and wondering if she would ever realize she deserved better.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next day, Riddle was once again settled in his usual spot in the library. The silence was pristine this time, and he relished the peaceful atmosphere. He had nearly immersed himself in his studies when he noticed movement out of the corner of his eye.

Prim.

The girl with blonde pigtails walked hesitantly into the library, clutching her books and bag. She scanned the room for a moment before her eyes landed on him. A bright smile lit her face, and she made her way over.

“Hi,” she greeted softly, her voice still carrying that slight lisp.

Riddle nodded in acknowledgment. “Good afternoon, Prim.”

To his surprise, she pulled out a chair and sat next to him, setting her books down. “I hope you don’t mind,” she said cheerfully. “It’s nice and quiet here.”

“As long as you keep it that way,” Riddle replied, his tone neutral.

Prim giggled and nodded. “Promise. I’ll be quiet.”

She opened her notebook and began working on what looked like several assignments. Riddle glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, noting the way her handwriting flowed neatly across the pages. Occasionally, she would hum softly to herself, though it wasn’t disruptive—it was oddly soothing.

After a few minutes, he broke the silence. “You’re alone today.”

Prim looked up from her work, her curls bouncing slightly as she tilted her head. “Oh, yeah. My friends are out getting lunch.”

Riddle raised an eyebrow. “They left you behind?”

Prim waved a hand dismissively, her smile unwavering. “It’s fine. I had too much homework to do anyway. Besides, they’ll bring me something back.”

Her tone was so casual, so certain, that Riddle didn’t press further. But he couldn’t help the small pang of doubt that settled in his chest.

“They do seem to leave you out quite often,” he remarked, his voice carefully measured.

Prim paused, her pencil hovering over her notebook. Then she laughed lightly. “They don’t mean to. They’re just... busy. But they’re good friends, really.”

Riddle frowned but didn’t say anything. Her unwavering cheerfulness was admirable, though he couldn’t shake the feeling that she was excusing more than she should.

They fell into a comfortable rhythm, the soft scratch of pens and the faint rustle of pages filling the air. After a while, Prim closed one notebook and opened another, switching seamlessly between assignments. Riddle noticed she wasn’t just working on a single piece of homework—she seemed to be copying her answers onto three other sheets.

He glanced at her stack of papers. Each page was identical, and she was writing the same answers in the same neat handwriting on all of them. His brow furrowed.

“Prim,” he said quietly, his curiosity getting the better of him. “Why are you doing the same homework four times?”

Prim froze for a moment, her pen poised mid-sentence. Then she looked at him, her expression sheepish but still cheerful. “Oh, um... My friends forgot to do theirs, so I’m helping out. They’re really busy, you know, with... things.”

Riddle’s frown deepened. “You’re doing their homework? All of it?”

Prim shrugged, her smile not faltering. “It’s no big deal. I’m good at this stuff, and they always help me when I need it.”

Riddle didn’t believe that for a second. He leaned back slightly, studying her. She seemed so genuinely kind, so eager to help, but he couldn’t ignore the fact that her so-called friends were clearly taking advantage of her.

Prim seemed to sense his concern because she added, “I don’t mind, really. It’s nice to feel useful.”

Riddle opened his mouth to respond, but before he could, Prim stood up, gathering her things into a neat pile. “I’m going to the restroom real quick,” she said with a smile. “Could you watch my stuff?”

He nodded, though his gaze lingered on her as she walked away.

Left alone, Riddle’s eyes drifted back to her work. The identical pages spread out in front of him confirmed what he already suspected—Prim was kind, but her kindness was being taken advantage of.

As he leaned back in his chair, waiting for her to return, Riddle couldn’t help but feel a growing sense of protectiveness toward her. She was cheerful and kind in her own way, but it was clear that she deserved better than what her so-called friends were giving her.

When Prim returned, still smiling as brightly as ever, Riddle resolved to keep an eye on her. Someone had to.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Several days went by and Riddle found himself walking through the courtyard, a book tucked under his arm. It was his usual route to the library, but the sound of laughter and chatter drew his attention.

Underneath one of the large oak trees sat the same group of girls from Lady Mystic College. Their voices carried easily on the breeze as they chatted with a group of Savanaclaw students who seemed far too pleased with themselves.

Riddle’s gaze immediately went to Prim. She was sitting on the edge of the group, her blonde curls bouncing slightly as she nodded enthusiastically in response to the conversation. Despite her obvious effort to engage, none of the boys so much as glanced her way. Their attention was fixed on her three companions, who were leaning forward and giggling at every joke.

Eventually, the three girls stood, brushing themselves off and flashing bright smiles at the Savanaclaw students. “We’ll see you later,” one of them said, linking arms with another.

Prim started to stand, too, but one of the girls waved her back down with a quick, “Oh, just stay here, Prim. Keep the spot for us, okay?”

Prim blinked, then nodded quickly. “Sure! No problem!”

The group walked away, leaving her alone under the tree. She didn’t seem bothered, though. She pulled out a small lunch box and began unpacking it, her expression as cheerful as ever.

Riddle hesitated, his steps slowing. It wasn’t his business, and he wasn’t the type to meddle. Yet something about the scene nagged at him.

Prim’s so-called friends hadn’t even offered to include her. They left her behind without a second thought. And though she waved them off as if it were perfectly natural, Riddle couldn’t shake the feeling that it wasn’t right.

Before he could stop himself, he changed course and approached her.

Prim looked up as his shadow fell over her. “Oh! Hi, Riddle!” she said brightly, her dark blue eyes lighting up.

“Good afternoon,” he said, stopping a few feet away. He glanced at her lunch box and then at the empty space around her. “You’re alone.”

She smiled and nodded. “Yeah, the girls went off with those boys. They didn’t want to intrude, and, well, it would’ve been rude for me to tag along since I wasn’t invited.”

Riddle frowned, his grip tightening on the book in his hands. “They left you here.”

Prim waved her hand dismissively. “Oh, it’s fine. I already had lunch anyway, and they asked me to keep this spot for them. It’s a nice spot, don’t you think? Nice shade, good view...”

Her voice trailed off as she gestured to the courtyard around them, clearly trying to paint the situation in the best possible light.

Riddle remained silent, his expression unreadable. He wanted to tell her that her friends shouldn’t have asked her to stay behind just to save a spot. That if they truly cared about her, they wouldn’t leave her sitting alone while they went off with boys who didn’t even acknowledge her.

But Prim’s smile didn’t falter. She continued to eat her lunch, completely at ease.

Riddle’s mind whirred. He had never been particularly skilled at making friends himself, and he often struggled with understanding social dynamics. Yet he couldn’t stand to see someone as kind and cheerful as Prim being so blatantly overlooked.

“Prim,” he said abruptly, his tone firmer than he intended.

She looked up, blinking at him. “Yes?”

“Would you... like to join me for lunch?”

Prim’s eyes widened in surprise, and for a moment, she seemed at a loss for words. “Oh, um, really?” she asked, her voice slightly higher than usual.

“Yes,” Riddle said, a little awkwardly. “If you’ve already eaten, I could still use some company. That is, if you’re not busy keeping this spot occupied.”

Prim laughed softly, her smile brightening even further. “Well, I suppose the spot will still be here when I get back.”

Riddle stepped back, allowing her to stand. As they walked toward the cafeteria together, he couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of satisfaction. It wasn’t much, but at least she wouldn’t have to sit alone this time.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Prim’s POV

The shade under the oak tree was nice, shielding them from the midday sun as the breeze rustled through the leaves. Prim sat with her three friends—Hazel, Trinity, and Opal—all of whom were laughing and chatting animatedly, their voices blending together in an upbeat melody of giggles.

Prim listened quietly, her hands folded neatly over her lap, her lips twitching upward in a small smile. Hazel said something that made Trinity snort, and Opal burst into another fit of laughter. Prim tried to join in, even though she didn’t entirely understand the joke.

They’re just so confident, she thought, watching them. “It’s one of the things I admire about them.”

Sometimes they’d say things to her that she wasn’t sure how to take. Like when Hazel turned to her mid-laughter and said, “Prim, I wish I could be as pure as you. So innocent!”

Prim chuckled along, though her cheeks flushed. They mean well, she reassured herself. It’s not like they’re being mean. I guess I don’t get all their jokes, so they’re right. It’s fine.

Then there was Trinity, who had tilted her head at Prim’s pigtails earlier and remarked, “Your hair is so unique, Prim. I’d never have the patience to deal with all those curls!”

Prim had thanked her for the comment, though part of her wondered if “unique” had been the right word. It was true, though—her hair never behaved like Hazel’s silky locks, Trinity’s sleek waves, or Opal’s perfectly tousled bob. But it was fine.

It was fine.

When a group of boys approached, Prim felt herself tense up slightly. She wasn’t used to being approached by boys—especially not bold, self-assured ones like these.

Hazel, Trinity, and Opal perked up immediately, their voices gaining a lilting edge as they welcomed the boys with coy smiles and casual jokes. Prim sat up straighter, her cheeks flushing pink as she tried to follow along with the conversation.

One of the boys told a story about his latest Spelldrive match, and Prim laughed softly at the right moment, hoping it sounded natural. But the boy didn’t look her way. None of them did. Their eyes were fixed on her friends.

She felt a small pang in her chest.

It’s okay, she told herself quickly. She isn’t his type. And that’s okay.

Her friends were tall, poised, and effortlessly pretty. Their hair shimmered in the sunlight, their makeup was flawless, and their laughter was infectious. Prim, meanwhile, was shorter, with unruly curls that seemed to have a mind of their own. Her braces made her mouth always stand open a bit, and as long as she can remember she talked with a lisp.

They’re just more... grown-up than me, she reasoned. And that’s okay. I’ll get there eventually.

For a fleeting moment, the pang threatened to grow into something heavier. But she shook it off, summoning her usual cheerful resolve.

I totally get it, she told herself, nodding slightly as if to reinforce the thought. I understand why they’d get all the attention. Besides, I don’t even need a boyfriend right now! I have my friends. And I’m happy for them. Really, I am.

When the boys eventually asked Hazel, Trinity, and Opal to join them for lunch, Prim was already smiling again.

“Oh, just stay here, Prim. Keep the spot for us, okay?” Hazel said over her shoulder as they stood.

“Sure! No problem!” Prim said brightly, waving at them as they walked off.

She settled back under the tree and reached for her lunch box. It’s fine, she thought as she unwrapped her sandwich. I packed a good lunch, and this spot is really nice. I’m totally fine. And they’ll be back soon anyway.

As she took a bite, she looked up and froze mid-chew.

Riddle stood a few feet away, his red hair unmistakable in the dappled sunlight. He was looking directly at her, his expression as composed and stern as always.

“Oh!” Prim swallowed quickly, straightening up and brushing crumbs off her lap. “Hi, Riddle!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Riddle’s POV

Riddle wasn’t entirely sure why he’d asked her to join him for lunch. It wasn’t as though he usually sought out company during meals. Quite the opposite, in fact—he valued the quiet solitude that came with sitting alone, free from the noise and chaos of others.

And yet, here he was, walking toward the cafeteria with Prim by his side, her cheerful chatter filling the silence he usually preferred.

“I really didn’t expect you to invite me to lunch,” Prim said, her voice bright with surprise. “But thank you! It’s nice to have someone to eat with. It’s always fun!”

Riddle glanced at her, taking in her wide smile and the way her dark blue eyes seemed to light up with genuine delight. Her optimism was almost childlike in its sincerity, and though it was different from the carefully composed demeanor he usually gravitated toward, he found it oddly... refreshing.

As they settled at a table, Prim eagerly unpacked her lunch box again, chatting as she went. “So, do you always eat alone? Or do you sit with your dorm mates sometimes?”

“I usually eat alone,” Riddle replied, his tone matter-of-fact. “It’s more efficient. The dining hall can be... chaotic.”

Prim tilted her head, nodding thoughtfully. “I get that. It can get loud sometimes. But it’s nice to have people to talk to, don’t you think?”

Riddle hesitated. Socializing had always felt more like a chore than a pleasure for him. Yet, as he watched Prim, he couldn’t bring himself to agree. “Perhaps,” he said finally.

They fell into a rhythm of small talk, much to Riddle’s surprise. Prim carried most of the conversation, her cheerful nature making it easy to follow along. She told him about her favorite classes, how she was still adjusting to Lady Mystic College, and how much she loved the library at Night Raven College.

“And the oak tree in the courtyard!” she added with a bright smile. “It’s such a nice spot to sit. Perfect shade, good view... It’s the best, really.”

Riddle nodded politely, though his thoughts lingered on why she’d been left there in the first place.

Finally, he couldn’t stop himself from bringing it up. “You said earlier that your friends went off with those guys and left you behind. Does that happen often?”

Prim blinked, caught off guard. “Oh, well... not often,” she said, though her tone wavered slightly. “They were just being polite, you know? It wouldn’t have been right for me to tag along if I wasn’t invited.”

Riddle frowned. “But if they’re your friends, shouldn’t they have invited you in the first place?”

Prim hesitated, her cheerful facade faltering for the briefest moment. “I mean, they’re just... busy. And I don’t really mind! I’m happy to keep the spot for them.”

He leaned forward slightly, his gaze steady. “Do you really think that’s fair to you?”

She shifted uncomfortably, her hands fidgeting with the edge of her lunch box. “Well, it’s not like they’re being mean or anything,” she said quietly. “They’re nice to me. And they’re so cool and pretty, you know? I’m lucky to have friends like them.”

Riddle’s frown deepened. “Are they really your friends if they constantly leave you out? If they treat you like an afterthought?”

Prim’s shoulders slumped slightly, and for the first time, her ever-present smile wavered. “They have to be my friends… if they’re not…” she said softly, “then... it would mean I didn’t have any at all…”

Riddle’s chest tightened at her words. He’d never been particularly adept at comforting others, but the sadness in her voice stirred something in him. He’d always been strict, proper, and precise in his interactions, yet in this moment, he felt compelled to say something more.

“You do have a friend,” he said quietly, surprising even himself.

Prim’s head snapped up, her eyes wide. “Mm?”

Riddle shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his face heating slightly. “I mean... I wouldn’t invite just anyone to lunch. So if that makes you feel better... consider me your friend.”

For a moment, Prim simply stared at him. Then her face broke into the brightest smile he’d ever seen, her braces gleaming as her eyes filled with joy. “Really? You mean it?”

He cleared his throat, looking away to hide his own embarrassment. “Yes. Of course.”

“Yeah!” Prim said eagerly, her sadness forgotten as she practically beamed at him. “Yeah, I guess we are friends, huh?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The park on Sage Island was quiet that afternoon, the soft rustle of leaves and distant chatter providing a soothing backdrop to Riddle’s thoughts. He didn’t come to the park often—it seemed frivolous to idle in nature when there were more productive things to do—but something had drawn him there today.

It was then that he saw her.

Prim was balancing on a low railing near the path, her arms stretched out for balance and her curls bouncing with each careful step. She looked utterly carefree, the sunlight catching the faint glint of her braces as she smiled to herself.

Riddle slowed his pace, his gaze lingering on her. The sight struck a chord in him—her innocence, her lightheartedness. She embodied a freedom he had never known.

Growing up under his mother’s strict rules, even the thought of such behavior would have been unthinkable. Walking on a railing? Playing games in public? There was no place for that in the rigid schedule of the Rosehearts household. And even now, as a college student, Riddle often felt the weight of responsibility pressing on his shoulders, keeping him bound to the rules he upheld so fiercely.

Prim, however, seemed untouched by such constraints.

When she spotted him, her face lit up, and she hopped down from the railing with a bounce. “Riddle!” she called, hurrying toward him. “Hi! What a surprise to see you here!”

“Good afternoon, Prim,” he said, straightening his posture.

“It’s so nice to see you,” she said, her grin bright as ever. “Are you here for a walk too?”

“I thought some fresh air might be beneficial,” Riddle replied. “And you?”

“Oh, I’m on my way to the bookstore,” she said, clasping her hands behind her back. “I need a new diary. My old one’s almost full.”

“A diary,” he echoed.

“Yep!” she said cheerfully. “I write about everything—what I did, how I felt, what made me happy. It’s nice to look back on later, you know?”

Riddle nodded, though he couldn’t fully relate. His own life had always been so structured, so focused on rules and expectations, that the idea of reflecting on daily joys felt almost... indulgent.

As they walked together, Prim continued to chat, her energy as boundless as ever. “I’ve been hanging out less with Hazel, Trinity, and Opal,” she said after a while, her tone casual. “It’s easier now that I have a friend.”

Her words caught him off guard, and he turned to look at her. “You mean me.”

“Of course!” she said brightly, glancing at him with a sincerity that made his chest tighten.

He felt his cheeks heat slightly and quickly looked away. “I... see.”

Prim tilted her head, her expression softening. “Thank you for having lunch with me last week, by the way. It was really nice. I hope I wasn’t talking too much.”

Riddle shook his head. “You were fine. I didn’t mind.”

Her face lit up again, and she clasped her hands together. “I’m glad! I’ve been eating alone more often lately, and I think I finally get what you mean—it’s nice to have that quiet sometimes. It’s efficient, and I can actually focus on my food!”

Hearing her repeat his words from before made something stir in his chest. She wasn’t just cheerful; she genuinely listened.

They walked in companionable silence for a few moments before Prim spoke again. “You should come with me to the bookstore,” she said suddenly, her voice bright.

Riddle blinked, caught off guard. “Me?”

“Why not? It could be fun! And I’m sure they’ve got plenty of interesting books for you to look at.”

He hesitated, searching for a reason to decline, but none came. “I suppose I could use a new reference book,” he said finally, convincing himself it was a practical decision. “Very well.”

Prim clapped her hands together. “Great! Let’s go!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The bookstore was small but inviting, its shelves packed with an eclectic mix of novels, journals, and academic texts. Prim headed straight for the section of journals, her excitement palpable.

“What do you think of this one?” she asked, holding up a diary with a floral cover. “Or this one?” She picked up another, this one decorated with stars.

“They’re both... adequate,” Riddle said diplomatically, though his tone lacked the sternness it usually carried.

Prim giggled. “You’re so formal, Riddle. You’re so cool.”

He stiffened, the unexpected comment catching him off guard. “I—cool is hardly the appropriate word.”

She laughed again, completely unbothered by his awkwardness. “I like it,” she said simply, flipping through the pages of a diary.

Riddle turned his attention to the nearest shelf, scanning the titles even as his thoughts lingered on her. She was so unabashedly sincere, so quick to express herself without reservation. It was entirely unlike him, and yet he found it oddly refreshing.

“What kind of books do you like?” Prim asked suddenly, breaking his train of thought.

“Primarily academic texts,” Riddle replied. “I don’t often read for leisure.”

“That makes sense,” she said with a nod. “You’re so disciplined, Riddle. I admire that about you.”

He glanced at her, momentarily speechless. She said it so matter-of-factly, as if her praise was simply the truth. “Thank you,” he said quietly, unsure of how else to respond.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The walk back from the bookstore was peaceful, with Prim happily clutching her new diary to her chest. She was chatting about the various things she planned to write in it—her favorite moments, her thoughts on the day, and even the little goals she set for herself. Riddle listened quietly, his hands neatly folded behind his back, offering the occasional nod or small response.

As they reached a crossroads in the park, Prim slowed her pace, her expression shifting slightly. “I should probably start studying when I get back,” she said with a small sigh. “I’ve got this one chapter that’s been giving me so much trouble.”

Riddle raised an eyebrow. “What subject?”

“Potions,” Prim replied, scrunching her nose. “There’s this one section about ingredient interactions that I just can’t wrap my head around. It’s like the words blur together every time I try to read it.”

He stopped walking, considering her words. He remembered studying potions theory himself the year prior. It wasn’t an easy subject, especially when it came to understanding the subtleties of ingredient dynamics. But he’d mastered it, of course.

Prim tilted her head, glancing at him curiously. “What is it?”

Riddle felt a flicker of hesitation. The idea of offering his help seemed straightforward enough, but his mind began to overanalyze. Would it be strange to suggest it? They were friends now, weren’t they? And helping a friend was a reasonable thing to do.

But what if she felt pressured to accept? Prim had always been eager to please, and the last thing he wanted was for her to feel obligated. Still, she had said she was glad they were friends. Surely she wouldn’t find the gesture unwelcome?

“Riddle?” Prim’s voice was soft, her gaze searching his.

He straightened, pushing his doubts aside with a deep breath. “If you’re struggling with that chapter,” he began carefully, “I could help you study.”

He watched her expression closely, his heart beating just a little faster as he waited for her response.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Prim’s POV

Prim clutched her study books tightly to her chest as she walked toward Night Raven College. The path to the all-boys school was winding, but she didn’t mind. The weather was nice, the air crisp, and her heart felt unusually light.

She couldn’t stop thinking about the day before, when Riddle had offered to help her with her potions studies. It had been so unexpected, and the moment he’d asked, she’d said yes without hesitation.

Of course, she was grateful for his help. Riddle was brilliant—he knew so much, and she was certain he’d explain things far better than her textbook ever could. But more than that, the thought of spending time with him made her genuinely happy.

She smiled to herself, her steps quickening as she remembered the feeling. She’d made an actual friend.

In high school, she’d been alone more often than not. She tried to fit in, but it was like she didn’t quite know how. Her curls were too unruly, her braces too shiny, and her lisp made her stumble over words when she was nervous. She remembered watching other girls gather in groups, laughing and chatting easily, while she lingered on the edges, hoping to be noticed.

When she’d started college, she promised herself things would be different. She’d make friends this time, no matter what. And she had—Hazel, Trinity, and Opal had been quick to include her. But it hadn’t taken long to realize that their kindness only went so far.

Prim sighed softly, her grip tightening on her books. Her so-called friends weren’t really nice to her, not in the way that mattered. She knew that. But wasn’t it better to have bad friends than none at all?

At least, that’s what she used to believe.

But then there was Riddle. He was so different from anyone she’d met before—kind in his own quiet, composed way. He didn’t laugh at her or make her feel small. When he talked to her, it felt like he actually saw her, not just the odd girl with the curls and the braces.

Riddle is a real friend, she thought, her heart fluttering.

She almost started skipping as she neared the gates of Night Raven College, her excitement outweighing her nerves. The idea of walking into an all-boys school was a little intimidating, but she didn’t let it bother her. Riddle had offered to help, and she was determined to make the most of it.

When the imposing gates of the school came into view, Prim spotted a familiar figure waiting for her.

Riddle stood with his hands clasped neatly in front of him, his posture as straight and proper as ever. He spotted her immediately and stepped forward.

“Good afternoon, Prim,” he said, his tone formal but not unfriendly.

“Hi, Riddle!” she greeted, her voice bright as she hurried up to him. “Thanks for meeting me.”

“It’s no trouble,” he replied, gesturing toward the campus. “I thought it would be best to guide you directly to my dorm. Night Raven College can be... confusing to navigate if you’re unfamiliar.”

She nodded eagerly, her nerves momentarily forgotten. “I really appreciate it. I’ll try not to get in the way too much!”

Riddle gave a small shake of his head. “You’re not in the way. I offered, didn’t I?”

Her smile widened at his words, and as they began walking, she glanced around, taking in the grand architecture of the school.

“It’s such a big campus,” she said, her awe evident. “It must be amazing to go here.”

“It has its merits,” Riddle said simply, though there was a faint note of pride in his voice.

Prim followed him through the gates and into the courtyard, her excitement bubbling up again. She had no idea what to expect, but one thing was certain—Riddle was her friend now. She can’t wait for tonight, when she can write in her diary about today.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Riddle’s POV

As Riddle led Prim through the gates of Heartslabyul, he noticed the usual shift in demeanor among his dormmates. Students standing idly by quickly straightened their postures, their conversations quieting as they noticed him. It was routine, of course—expected behavior from those under his jurisdiction—but it wasn’t something he’d ever given much thought to.

Prim, however, seemed to notice. She glanced around curiously as they passed a group of first-years who hurriedly bowed their heads in greeting.

“Good afternoon, Housewarden!” one of them called.

Prim blinked, slowing her steps slightly. “Housewarden?” she repeated, looking at Riddle.

He cleared his throat, feeling a faint warmth creep up his neck. “Yes,” he said stiffly. “I am the housewarden of Heartslabyul.”

Her eyes widened as the pieces seemed to fall into place. “Ohhh, that makes so much sense now!” she said, her voice light with realization. “No wonder everyone is so respectful around you. You’re in charge!”

Riddle frowned slightly, his usual composure slipping just a little. “It’s merely my duty,” he said, trying to downplay the significance.

Prim, however, seemed delighted. “That’s amazing, Riddle! You must be really good at what you do for them to listen to you like that.”

Her praise caught him off guard, and he quickly turned his attention back to the path, his face warming further. “It’s nothing remarkable. Let’s continue to my room.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When they reached his room, Riddle opened the door and stepped aside to let Prim in. She hesitated for a moment before walking in, clutching her books tightly.

“I’ve never been in a boy’s room before,” she said with a small giggle, glancing around.

Riddle stiffened, his hand tightening slightly on the doorknob. “It’s just a room,” he said quickly, closing the door behind them.

Prim wandered further inside, her eyes wide as she took in the neat, organized space. The room was larger than she had expected, with a tidy desk, bookshelves filled to the brim, and a large canopy bed. Everything was perfectly arranged, a reflection of Riddle’s meticulous nature.

“This is so nice!” she said, smiling as she turned to him. “It’s so... Riddle.”

He blinked. “What do you mean by that?”

“It’s so neat and organized,” she said, laughing lightly. “It just feels like you. I love it.”

Her laughter was high but not too loud often accompanied by a snort. It was infectious and Riddle found himself relaxing slightly.

Prim grinned, plopping herself onto the edge of the chair near his desk and opening her books. “Okay, ready to study?”

He nodded, pulling out a chair for himself and settling in beside her. “Let’s begin. You mentioned you were struggling with ingredient interactions?”

As they worked through the chapter, Riddle was surprised by how focused Prim was. Though she had trouble grasping some of the concepts at first, she listened intently to his explanations, asking thoughtful questions and jotting down notes.

Her enthusiasm was refreshing, and Riddle found himself genuinely enjoying the session.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A knock at the door interrupted them just as Prim was beginning to understand a particularly tricky concept.

“Come in,” Riddle called, glancing up.

The door opened to reveal Trey, carrying a tray of freshly baked cookies. He smiled when he saw them. “I thought you two might want a snack,” he said, placing the tray on the desk.

Prim’s eyes lit up. “Oh, wow! These look amazing!”

“They’re still warm,” Trey said with a chuckle. “Help yourselves.”

Prim picked up a cookie and took a bite, her eyes widening in delight. “These are so good!” she said, her voice muffled slightly by the cookie.

Riddle picked one up as well, though he was far more reserved in his reaction. “Thank you, Trey,” he said politely.

Trey turned to Prim, bowing his head slightly wearing a kind smile. “Nice to meet you, I’m Trey, the vice housewarden of Heartslabyul.”

Prim sat up straight and returned his smile with one of her own. “Nice to meet you too! I’m Prim!”

Trey smiled knowingly, glancing between the two of them. “Well… Let me know if you need anything else,” he said before heading out.

As the door closed, Prim turned to Riddle, her smile as bright as ever. “Your dormmates are so nice. And these cookies? Best study snack ever.”

Riddle nodded, feeling a faint sense of pride in Heartslabyul’s hospitality. “Trey is an excellent baker,” he said.

Prim grinned, holding up her notebook. “And you’re an excellent teacher. I’m actually starting to get this now!”

Riddle looked at her, his expression softening. “You’re a quick learner,” he said. “You just needed someone to explain it in a way that made sense to you.”

Her smile widened, and she leaned forward slightly. “Thanks, Riddle. Really. You’re the best.”

His face warmed again, and he quickly turned back to the open book in front of him. “Let’s continue,” he said, his voice a little tighter than usual.

Prim giggled, taking another bite of her cookie before diving back into her notes.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Riddle shifted in his chair, trying to focus on the textbook in front of him, but his thoughts kept wandering. It wasn’t the material that distracted him—he’d long since mastered the subject—but rather Prim, who was sitting just a little too close.

She was leaning forward slightly, her notebook open as she jotted down notes, the end of her pencil tapping lightly against her lip in thought. Her blonde curls framed her face in soft spirals, bouncing faintly with every movement. Her braces gleamed when she smiled, the colorful elastics drawing his attention in a way he didn’t expect.

When she spoke, her slight lisp added an unexpected charm to her words, her voice full of enthusiasm even as she struggled with the material.

Riddle frowned slightly, feeling a warmth creep up his neck. He wasn’t used to this—having someone so close, so lively, so...

He surprised himself when the thought crossed his mind: She’s kind of cute.

The realization made his stomach twist, and he quickly looked back at his book, his posture stiffening. Focus, Riddle, he scolded himself silently. You’re here to help her study, nothing more.

Still, it was difficult to ignore her presence, especially when she turned to him with that bright smile, her gratitude shining in her eyes.

When their study session ended, Prim packed up her books, her smile never fading. “Thank you so much, Riddle,” she said for what felt like the tenth time. “You’re seriously the best. I actually feel like I understand this now!”

“It was no trouble,” he replied, his voice clipped as he tried to maintain his composure.

Riddle walked her back to the gates, insisting on showing her the way in case she would get lost. Walking back they made a bit of small talk and Riddle could feel the stares. But he tried to ignore them, he was just walking his friend out.

Prim slung her bag over her shoulder, pausing when they arrived at the gates. “I’ll see you soon, okay? Thanks again!”

She waved cheerfully before walking back to her own dorm, leaving Riddle alone.

He let out a small breath, his shoulders relaxing. The session had gone well, but he couldn’t shake the strange fluttering sensation in his chest.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Later, in the Heartslabyul lounge, Riddle sat with a book in hand, though his thoughts kept drifting back to Prim’s visit.

“Hey, Riddle!”

He looked up to see Trey and Cater approaching, both wearing knowing smiles.

“How did the study session go?” Trey asked casually, though there was a glint of curiosity in his eyes.

“Was she nice? Fun? Cute?” Cater added, leaning in with a teasing grin.

Riddle frowned, not catching the implication. “It went well. She understood the material by the end, and she was very polite.”

Cater’s grin widened. “Oh, ‘polite,’ huh? That’s it?”

“She seemed... eager to learn,” Riddle continued, ignoring Cater’s tone.

Trey chuckled softly. “And you were okay with her being in your space? You usually don’t let just anyone into your room.”

Riddle hesitated, adjusting his tie. “She’s a friend,” he said finally. “It’s natural to help a friend, isn’t it?” Calling her a friend almost made him feel proud.

Cater exchanged a look with Trey, his grin turning sly. “Right. A ‘friend.’”

Before Riddle could respond, the lounge door burst open, and Ace and Deuce strolled in.

“Hey, Housewarden!” Ace called, plopping down on one of the couches. “We heard you had a guest today.”

Deuce looked confused. “Guest?”

“Yeah,” Ace said, smirking. “A girl.”

Riddle’s grip on his book tightened. “What of it?”

“C’mon, spill! Is she your girlfriend or something?” Ace asked, leaning forward with an exaggerated grin.

Riddle’s face turned red, and he slammed his book shut. “O-of course not!” he snapped, his voice sharp.

Ace burst out laughing, clearly enjoying himself. “Whoa, calm down! I was just asking.”

“She’s a friend, nothing more,” Riddle said firmly, glaring at Ace.

Deuce, sensing the tension, elbowed Ace. “Knock it off, Ace. You’re being rude.”

“What? I’m just curious!” Ace said, still grinning.

Riddle stood abruptly, his expression stern. “If you’re finished with your childish remarks, I have work to do.”

He strode out of the lounge, his cape billowing behind him, leaving the others behind.

Trey shook his head, though he was smiling faintly. “You pushed too hard, Ace.”

“Aw, come on,” Ace said, leaning back with a laugh. “You can’t blame me for asking. Did you see how flustered he got?”

Cater grinned. “I don’t know, Ace. Maybe he’s just new to this whole ‘having friends’ thing.”

“Or maybe,” Trey said with a small chuckle, “he’s starting to realize that having a friend like Prim might be a little more important to him than he thought.”

None of them noticed the faint blush creeping up Riddle’s ears as he listened just outside the door, his grip tightening on his book.

#twst oc #twisted wonderland #riddle rosehearts #prim

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spiderb00 · 2 days ago

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netflix and (not) chill

Lara Raj x reader

“It was a good idea to watch a movie with your girlfriend, until you complimented one of the characters”

Genre – Fluff Warnings – None (request)

Now playing – The boy is mine, By Ariana Grande

"Okay, I think we've got it all here!" You said, walking up to your girlfriend, Lara, who was sitting on the couch in your apartment.

Lara loved to go to your loft, it was cozy and away from the noise of the Kats. Not that she didn't love those girls, but whenever you two needed some alone time, this was the perfect place. Today, you and your girlfriend were in deep relaxation mode, and all you wanted was to watch a good movie and snuggle up together on the couch.

The smell of the homemade pizza you two made was all over the air, and the bottle of wine you'd opened was already ready to be poured into the fancy glasses you'd bought for dates like this. It was Lara's turn to choose the movie, so after a long conversation she decided that you would see "Kabhi Khushi Kabhie Gham", an Indian movie, which according to Lara was "One of the best movies I've ever seen!", so you gladly accepted, excited to know more about your girlfriend's movie tastes and culture.

"Then come join me, baby." Lara said as she patted the seat next to her on the couch.

With excitement, you sat down quickly on the couch, snuggling next to Lara as you handed her a glass of wine, which you had poured.

"All right, we can start." You say, before you press play, Lara turned her head in your direction.

"Okay, listen to me, cutie. Whatever you're thinking of doing, save it for after the movie, I really want to watch it until the end." Lara said, knowing your history of almost never watching the movies until the end when the two of you are alone.

"I promise, I wasn't even thinking about it, pretty girl." You say, showing your pinky, hoping that Lara would intertwine hers with yours.

With a snort and a laugh of amusement, Lara intertwined her pinky with yours, pulling you lightly towards her and giving a small kiss on your lips.

"See, you're the one who always starts-"

"Shii, the movie is going to start." Lara said, smiling at the red-haired girl's antics, you started watching the movie, taking sips of wine and eating your slices of pizza.

The movie was fantastic, you couldn't remember the last time you were so involved in such a long movie. You loved the filmography, the character development, the story, everything was simply artistic and very well thought out. Lara would make some comments about the movie occasionally, just talking about how she loved some scene and how she remembered watching the movie with her parents and sister.

You really understood why she spoke so highly of the film, it was really captivating. You laughed when one of your favorite characters appeared on the scene, playing her role beautifully and making everything look funny and professional at the same time. You learned that the actress's name was Kajol (courtesy of Lara), and she played Anjali Raichand, married to Rahul, one of the main characters.

"She's so funny." You said, a harmless compliment. "It's kind of charming, she's very beautiful." Another innocent compliment, at least for you.

Lara, who was very focused on the film, had her attention diverted for the first time. Had you just said that a woman was beautiful in front of her? I mean, she knows she's an actress, and she's a lot older than you, and that you're probably never going to see each other in your life, but so what? Had you just said that a woman was beautiful in front of your girlfriend?

You continued with your attention focused on the movie, not even noticing the enraged look your girlfriend was giving you right now. You know Lara is jealous from birth, but you didn't mean it badly, you just innocently let it out.

Stretching your arm to place it on Lara's shoulder, you quickly felt the Indian girl shrug her shoulders, a silent motion to get you off her. Looking at her, you saw her arms crossed over her chest, the girl's eyebrows were furrowed, and for a moment you wondered if you had done something wrong.

"Baby, what's wrong?" You asked, puppy eyes looking at the girl who seemed indifferent to your doubts.

"Nothing, I'm just too hot here to be hugged." Lara said, shrugging once again, the girl's eyes glued to the TV. Oh, something was very wrong.

When the movie was finally over, you stood up, putting the dirty dishes and glasses in the sink and coming back to tell Lara that you would go upstairs to the room in a minute, only to no longer find the fire-haired girl on the couch. Confused, you went back to the kitchen, washing everything very quickly and going up even faster.

When you entered the room, you saw your girlfriend already in her pajamas, one of your shirts - which were too big on her - and only a black panty. Getting closer, you crawled until you were on top of the distracted girl on her phone, starting to distribute kisses down the back covered by the fabric of her (your) shirt.

"You look so pretty in my clothes, baby" You said, startled as your girlfriend quickly turned on the bed, knocking you off her.

"I thought I wasn't pretty enough for you." Lara says, getting out of bed and walking to the bathroom, starting to smear some skin care products on her face.

Dazed on the bed, you stood up, still trying to process why she would have said that.

"Baby, I don't understand. What does that mean?" You asked, scratching the back of your neck, leaning against the bathroom door frame.

"Ask Anjali." That was all the Indian girl had to say to make you know why she was acting like that.

"Baby, no. Please, let's not do that." You said, throwing your head back before approaching the girl who was looking at herself in the mirror of your bathroom, putting your arms around her waist.

"Do what? I thought you thought she was pretty. Why don't you ask her what you were going to ask for me?!" Lara says, turning around in your arms and arching an eyebrow as she looks at you.

Deciding to mess with the girl, you shrug, taking your hands from her waist and turning around to leave the bathroom.

"Alright, do you know if she has Instagram? Maybe I'll DM her..."

You barely finished speaking when you felt a tug on your shirt, pulling you back into the bathroom and pinning you against the sink.

"YOU WHAT?" Lara said, a smile starting to escape you. "Yn, I swear if you laugh I'll snatch that little smile off your face!" Lara said, pointing at you with the sharp nails she wore.

"Wow, calm down Freddy Krueger, I was just kidding." You said laughing and taking Lara's hand in yours.

"What did you just call me?" Cutting off the red-haired girl's speech, you kissed Lara in surprise.

Lara gave a small punch on your shoulder before giving herself completely to the kiss. You knew she wasn't really mad, she just wanted a little reminder that she was the woman of your life, and that you would always be with her.

"Are you calmer?" You said, hugging the Indian girl and kissing the top of her head. "Look, there might be a thousand beautiful girls all over the world, they got nothin’ on you, baby." You said, rocking your body along with hers in your arms.

"Did you just recite Bruno Mars?" Lara said, looking up to meet your eyes. A smile on your face, making the shortest girl mirror your action.

"Of course, he gets the message across." You said, winking at her. But letting out a little "Auch" when the girl slaps you again, this time on your biceps.

"If a thousand beautiful girls were around you, you'd be wearing a blindfold."

Oh, how you loved this woman.

Hey guys, I love this request! It sure is Crazy Girl!Lara and Yn coded.

Speaking of movies, have you seen the Golden Globes? What did you think? I was particularly happy for Fernanda Torres and Demi Moore. I was hoping that Mikey Madison would win something from Anora, bc everyone was saying she looked fantastic in the movie, but maybe next time.

stay safe, I just learned about fires in LA, and I'm sending all the positive energy to the people who were affected by this.

xoxo, spider.

#katseye imagines #katseye x reader #kpop gg #gxg #lara raj x reader #kpop fluff

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bitchface24-7 · 2 days ago

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THE SEDUCTIVE PROFESSOR VIKTOR

synopsis: Professor Viktor, the most sought out and dreamt of professor at Piltover Academy. Luckily for you… you’re his favourite student.

warnings: age gap (viktor’s gotta be anywhere in his 30s-40s to be a professor, reader is in their 20s (early to late I don’t really care) ), power imbalance, dom!viktor, I tried my best to make this gender-neutral, this isn’t gonna be a full on story, just bullet points I come up with, no beta we die like most of the characters in Arcane

genre: m/f, m/m (however you label yourself, I hope you can read this and enjoy it!)

Professor Viktor hasn’t been a professor for very long at the academy. After he and his partner Jayce Talis revolutionized machinery and magic in the form of Hextech, well… the academy and the council wanted their genius shared with the younger generations.

“The Science Behind Magic: HXT101” became a hit. This course had the highest approval ratings, least amount of absences, and highest amount of A students in the history of the academy.

Viktor’s proud of his students work, everyone else sees it as it is. Everyone is doing amazing due to their hot professor.

His attitude, his humour, his accent, his beauty. Professor Viktor is sin incarnate and doesn’t seem to realize it. The dreamy sighs, the lustful gazes. It all goes over his head like water down a ducks back.

Having Jayce come in as a guest speaker doesn’t help in the slightest.

The two men are gorgeous. Jayce with his broad shoulders, messy hair, and wonderful beard. A few strands of grey focused on his temples.

Viktor with his long hair, sultry eyes, lithe frame that’s mostly delectable legs. He dresses wonderfully too. All tailored to fit his frame perfectly. His tiny waist seems almost impossibly small.

Viktor tries his best to be impartial to his students; neutral as a good teacher should be… but there’s something about you.

You’re bright, intelligent, well-spoken. Overall beautiful. He can’t stop looking at you during lectures, he can’t stop thinking about you in the privacy of his own home; in his office as well.

You always pay attention in class, you ask riveting and inspiring questions, you continue the conversation Viktor is desperately trying to create to invigorate the students the way he and Jayce were all those years ago.

Your pretty eyes, soft looking lips, shiny hair. The way the academy uniform compliments your figure in all the right ways. He’s a man obsessed.

He knows you’re at least physically attracted to him. The way you bite your lip when you look at him, when you shyly look down when he compliments your work with a sultry “good job”

How you jolt in your seat from daydreaming when he comes up behind you and whispers in your ear to pay attention.

He wants to see how you react to other stimuli. A practical theory if you will.

Will you be good and listen to Viktor’s every command? Or will you be bratty; needing to be put over Viktor’s lap and your ass reddened to be taught a lesson. Would you prefer his hand, a ruler, or maybe even his cane?

How pretty would you look on your knees, taking his cock down your throat? Would your eyes water? Would you choke? Or are you secretly a slut, who can take it no problem.

Are you a moaner, a whimperer, a screamer, or a crier?

He knows his blatant desires for you are cementing you as his “favourite student” you can do things others can only dream of.

You can come to class late and not need a valid excuse, you can borrow any materials without reasoning, you can stay as late as you want during office hours; when anyone else would be politely but firmly told that their time was up.

People have noticed, everyone but you it seems. The rest of the class can’t help but envy you. How the hell do you have such a drop dead gorgeous man wrapped around your finger, and you don’t even realize it!

You’re going to realize it soon, when Viktor tells you to stay behind after class. That he has a theory he’d like to discuss with you.

That theory leaves you with your face feeling like it’s on fire, your throat sore, your body aching in a delicious way, your legs bowed, and your appearance completely disheveled.

Viktor gets the answers he’s been desperately craving and is not disappointed. He can’t wait for the semester to be over. He wants you, and he can pursue you when he’s no longer your professor.

He just gave you a taste of what he’ll give you everyday if you agree to be his.

(You’ll agree to be his. He rocked your shit)

#arcane #viktor arcane #viktor imagine #viktor x reader #viktor smut #professor viktor #arcane imagine #arcane smut #fem!reader #male!reader #gender neutral reader #banners by cafekitsune #HEAR ME OUT #HES SO FINE 😩😩#ANY VERSION OF VIKTOR CAN GET IT #(except when he’s a kid)

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worrywrite · 2 days ago

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I want to look back around to the original two posts here.

Data asked them to come to his poetry reading. And they showed up. They don't particularly like the poetry, and that's fair. Poetry isn't for everyone. A lot of times listening to poetry feels weird. But they all showed up and listened, albeit in some level of discomfort. But they showed up, because they like Data.

How can I say that as someone with very limited TNG knowledge? Well. He's always like that. They know he is like that. They don't expect to like pretty much anything he does, he's weird, he's basically a walking talking science experiment to some of them. But he's also extremely kind, albeit a little off-putting, and they all know that. They all know he wants them to be there, even if they don't like them, because he wants to be close to people and be part of their family as a member of the crew.

It reminds me of when I was an undergrad. I studied English lit and I was in multiple classes and groups that did poetry readings in local restaurants and basements and such. And I'd invite roommates and friends from other aspects of my life. They wouldn't show up for one reason or another, usually because my connections to them were predicated on me being heavily into gaming, but I figured why not--them being able to poke fun on me about my dumb poem about sneezing that no one gets could be a bonding moment. Even though my interests don't usually align with the people around me, why not invite them to at least witness them as a form of participation.

I don't think people are going enough credit to the show and the characters here. Because Data invited them, and they showed up. Not because it was the only interesting thing on the ship (the ship is huge and there are endless things to do), not out of a sense of obligation (even though Data would know if they could have made it but chose not to come), but because they like Data and they want to try showing that.

(also I would like to remind everyone that you can rap Ode to Spot and it sounds like fire).

I actually… love this

#star trek #tng #star trek tng #data #poetry

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adieutristana · 19 hours ago

Note

hello omg just found your blog and might i say your writing style is so gorgeous?? absolute chefs kiss 💯. aaaaaanywho, i read your post about how the arcane women would be during aftercare. i was wondering if it would be possible to maybe write a dribble drabble of how sevika would react to reader going like completely nv (non verbal) and dissociated after said hankey pankey actions? 🤔 💭.

feel free to ignore if this makes you uncomfortable!! :3 have a good rest of your day/evening and happy holidays!

of course! thank you for the request <3 i appreciate your kind words, it means a lot that you enjoy my writing :) happy (late) holidays to you as well!

summary; sevika and her girlfriend during aftercare. reader goes nonverbal and dissociates.

characters included; sevika

tags/warnings; nothing explicit but very suggestive, comfort (no hurt), fluff, just sweet, nonverbal / dissociative episodes

men and minors dni.

your back hits the mattress, sheets clinging to your sweaty skin.

that was… intense. it usually is with sevika. but good. you can't feel it right now, but you know that in an hour or two, your legs will grow sore. your breath is coming to you slowly, although it's still a bit difficult. you're still slightly trembling. your girlfriend is in the next room, quickly rolling a cigar before she joins you in bed. it’s become a routine of sorts.

roll the cigar, climb in bed with you, hold you, talk about whatever’s on yours or her mind. sevika was always gentle, doting afterward. looking out for you, then herself. before entering a relationship with her, you’d never expected her to be affectionate. she never expected herself to be affectionate. but the moment your eyes locked with her own, things changed.

sevika slowly makes her way to the bed, sitting down next to you with her back propped on the headboard as she uses a blanket to cover her lower half. she comes to light her cigar, taking a long drag before looking down at you.

“you alright?”

you make a little ‘mm’ noise, your eyes fixed on the ceiling. your breathing has evened out for the most part, although sweat still clings to your skin and you’re still a bit shaky. sevika purses her lips, leaning down over you slightly. it’s not often that you give her this… lackluster of a response.

“you sure you’re okay?”

she presses, earning a slow nod from you. not much is getting through to you right now… it was good. amazing. but right now, you just feel so out of it. an out of body experience, in some way.

sevika lets out a heavy sigh and puts her cigar out in a bedside ashtray, deciding to inch closer to you. she's concerned, to say the very least. did she go too far? did she do something that she wasn't supposed to? not notice something you had said? she hesitantly drapes an arm over your chest, laying on her side as she takes in your flat expression.

“did i hurt you?”

she asks. always straight to the point, but she’s never seen you like this after sex. she’s worried. the anxiety is quickly relieved after she sees you frantically shaking your head. no, she didn’t hurt you. she wasn’t too rough. but that doesn’t explain why you’re just blinking with a dazed look, as if you’re only partially present. you’re aware of what she’s saying, at the very least.

but she won’t press. she’s concerned. she knows that you’re not completely yourself right now for whatever reason. she doesn’t want to force an answer out of you if you don’t want to give it to her at this moment. so instead, the woman opts to gently pull you into her arms and hold you close to her chest.

she feels your arms slowly wrap around your waist, and your head nestling into her chest. this is good. this is a good thing.

“i take it you’re just not up to talk right now, huh…?” sevika mutters, reaching to begin gently running her fingers along your bare back. lightly raking her fingernails in a soothing motion, the cold metal of her other arm slightly grounding you. “that’s alright. i can talk instead.”

sevika continues running her fingers over your back, a rhythmic motion that she hopes serves to soothe.

"you did great for me... you always do." she mutters, that low drawl of hers evident. "and you're doing great now. i don't know what's going on... maybe you need time to process?"

sevika wonders, maybe more to herself than to you. nonetheless, she presses a gentle kiss to your temple. lips the slightest bit rough, fingernails still going up and down your back.

"i don't know. but i'll be here."

she smiles when you slowly nod, making eye contact with her. you lean slightly closer to her touch, seeking the warmth that she offers. a calloused hand, firm body, soft touch. the smell of smoke and sweat. it's everything that you could hope for in this moment, paired with that low voice of hers.

"there you are."

your eyes looking at hers. what a privilege. this isn't something sevika thought she'd ever get, only having had flings and brothel visits in the past. she didn't think romance was something in the cards for her, and she didn't think she'd ever particularly want it. yet here she is, holding a woman who she loves and who loves her in return. after showing that love to her.

if that woman isn't feeling the most herself right now, then that's fine. at least she knows she enjoyed herself, but she'll be here while she finds what she needs.

"and you look as beautiful as ever."

she murmurs, moving her hand from your back to gently grasp at your shoulder. running a calloused hand up and down your upper arm in slow, caring motions. her eyes take in your expression, relaxed and a bit dissociated. you're always beautiful to her.

the curve of your cheekbones, the edge of your jawline, the softness of your cheeks, the way your lips curl up the slightest bit. sevika could melt. gods, she feels strange admitting that to herself. she could melt from how stunning her girlfriend is. who would've thought?

she continues to press light kisses to your face- your cheeks, your forehead, the bridge of your nose, over any freckles or moles you may have. this might be on sevika's list of favorite things to do, to just take you in. the way your eyes flutter closed as you feel her lips on you.

"let me know when you come to, but i'll be here until then... and after."

sevika murmurs, slowly dragging her thumb along your bottom lip. she can't deny that she's still a bit worried, although part of her will always worry. that's her job, isn't it? to make sure you're okay, you're safe, you're happy.

but right now, you just need her. and sevika is more than happy to give you everything within her reach.

#sevika x reader #sevika x you #arcane x reader #arcane x you #reader insert #this isnt my proudest work im sorry

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yanderelovebites · 1 day ago

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Back with batsis stuff and kinda wanna do the whole isekai thing. Have reader meet their end somehow and wake up in a fanfic that was never finished of a neglected batsis. Have them wake up at the incident that made them get sent over to Bruce.

Have the original girl’s memories and knowing already they didn’t like her, didn’t want her, etc. she decided to just live for herself and future. Girlie went with her father who gave her that initial attention but after that she was taken to her room. She’s six. Have her give that grieving period of two weeks where she just got used to the room and the manor before she started asking for things. It’ll be probably one form of martial arts and later on probably also either music or dance. When she isn’t doing either of those things she sketching in her book and she’s actually really good.

Have her be closest with Alfred but still keep a certain wall up against him just like the others. Have her be a few months older than Damian and Damian isn’t quite in the picture yet. She ignores when the others are in the house despite being a part of said home. She only looks for her father for school needs and while still keeping her distance will set birth cards and Father’s Day cards on his desk in the study. She never hands them to him so she doesn’t know what he does with them nor does she care.

If the character she is reborn as is meant to be neglected, why should she bother trying to reach out?

She eventually had no choice but to meet Jason because he was there… they didn’t know how to explain to her why red hood is there. She simply said “Hello, I would chat but I have Jujitsu in 20 so I have to leave. Nice meeting you.” It was concerning how she brushed it off. Of course she realizes after ‘oh none of them would know I know… nah I’ll just continue on. Who knows, it might bother them!’

By the time Damian gets there, she’s been through karate, jujitsu, and only a year of Taekwondo while also taking dancing/music lessons. She has won art competitions but only Alfred has ever seen or heard. Bruce may have heard but he barely listened to the announcement of it. He knows from a portrait she was forced to sit for with Bruce, Tim, and Dick, she exists. Yet, it takes a week for him to ever see her.

He asks questions like in the original, but what batsis reader doesn’t understand is she changed how Damian sees her since she wasn’t immediately clingy to anyone. Dick TRIES to remember anything and realizes he doesn’t really know her. Tim can’t really tell him anything either other than medical records in case anything happens. Literally all Tim gave Damian was that Damian and batsis have the say blood type. They realize they really don’t know batsis which does unnerve them. All they can say is she stays to herself. That both irritates Damian and intrigued him. He tries Alfred next who is able to at least tell him what she does routinely at least. How she’s been in martial arts after her first two weeks living here, implied she was grieving, and she’s also been in music/dance lessons as well. Also explains she enjoys participating in art contests. He goes on about her being an A+ student and explains she doesn’t interact much with the rest of the family. He even says “To be honest, I’m pretty sure I’m the only one she talks to in any capacity that isn’t out of necessity.”

Jason pretty much only knew about one of the martial arts being jujitsu. He explains she didn’t seem phased that red hood had entered her home and that she didn’t know about the Batman secret.

He doesn’t immediately approach her either. He doesn’t have all the information he needs. All he knows is she’s his half sibling, her usual activities, at least one of the forms of martial arts she knows, and that otherwise she’s a bit of a mystery. Eventually they’re forced to eat at a family dinner together. Since it really bothered Dick that he didn’t know anything he starts asking her about school. No one ever asked her questions, half the time they act like she isn’t there, so she’s confused, but politely says it’s been fine. Talks briefly about her classes, the mention of what classes she’s currently taking makes Tim and Dick shocked. For Tim it’s simply the fact that *she* was taking them and for Dick it’s the fact someone her age was taking such advance classes. Tim coughed and asked her what she did after school on Friday, mostly to hear anything else and she’s like “Oh just another art competition. I placed first with my painting.” She says and continues eating.

Bruce honestly is trying to process what he heard and saw and Damian treats it as a way to analyze her. The way she eats, the way she talks, her posture, and of course the tiny bits the boys were getting out. She then says “I’m sure Alfred has already told you about that, however, right father?” He coughs for a moment and nods as to hide the fact he himself has been caught off guard. For Damian she isn’t like a role model for what he’s grown up with, it’s more she’s a role model for what a Wayne is. She’s perfect in all things you’d expect the public to see a Wayne for. Knows arts, has some martial arts background, and has a certain air of modesty yet wealthy around her.

This attention to her is still brief at this time for Tim, Dick, and Bruce. They ask if she’s met Damian and she says “Not really, at best some glances. I’m always moving after all.” That dinner felt awkward, but Damian decided she wasn’t Particularly a threat…

And by all things holy it annoys the crap out of Tim. He actually tries to speak to her—which she is cautious at first because she knows what he did to the original Batsis. Instead of drawing his sword on her, he asked about her martial arts since that’s really all he can… talk about with her… and the part that annoys Tim on it… is simply he won’t shut up about her-

And he thought when Damian called himself the blood son was annoying! Now it’s ’blood sibling’ this and that if bringing her up in conversation occurs. It’s clear he respects her in such annoying ways.

I just imagine the Yandere Batfam doesn’t all happen at once. It starts with Damian. You don’t see it at first because you blame his upbringing. He’s stuck to your side during banquets as much as he despises them. He mirrors some of your ‘mask’ etiquette in that all the Wayne’s have an image. You kept yours on as rock solid as possible, you are not the same person. He can tell you must have some inspiration from your father as yours is a rather innocent persona. You act like a social butterfly amongst the people and seem so damn sweet. He just doesn’t like how many eyes are on you. You acted like you couldn’t feel it, but it’s hard to ignore Damian. In fact, it accidentally wentinti his persona as people saw him as a clingy little brother to his slightly older sister. That it just made ‘sense’ since you two are so close in age.

Damian would just get worse as time went on. It’s get to the point you realize he isn’t faking or anything he actually just likes you. Then you get kidnapped.

I imagine no one but Alfred and Damian realize something is wrong. He’s the reason they find you and he nearly kills the guy who kidnapped you. Of course it’s not like you just let them take you, there was evidence even before they were brought to an inch of their life. You hadn’t made it easy and they could tell you had injured them beforehand. However they had broken your legs and that’s when I’d get worse for Damian and start in Bruce.

I might add more thoughts later I dunno it’s kind of an idea dump

#batfam neglect #batfam x batsis #batman #batsis!reader #yandere batfam #batsis #yandere #damian wayne

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tommyssupercoolblog · 3 days ago

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My frustration with the movie stemmed from the fact it seemed like the main 6, spike, and some other ponies as well, were trying to get better. As seasons went on, yes they kept having biases, but they kept getting just a little bit better with each group of people each time, and twilight making a school that isn't limited to just ponies was a step for that as well. Spike befriended a changeling, the ponies kept learning "oh zebras are deserving of respect, oh buffalo and yak are deserving of respect, oh griffins and changelings are deserving of respect," and while there were some characters who fit stereotypes there were others who directly challenged them, showing the ponies that just because they meet A griffin who is mean doesn't mean griffins are more likely to be mean than ponies; that's an issue of that specific griffin, just like if they were a pony. Twilight is like "griffin towns are dangerous" and they go and it's not like everyone is being a model minority, which at first makes them go "oh she was right" but there is some kindness and friendship to be found there as well- which makes them realize she WASN'T right- griffins are just people who are individuals and vary in behavior.

I felt like they were making extremely slow progress, but progress. Like, maybe in 20 or 50 years, society would move past all this shit entirely.

But the movie sent them so far backwards it was worse than the show ever was. In g4 none of the ponies cared about earth ponies vs pegasai vs unicorns, except historical ones they learned about. NOW they're retreated back to those values, which are even MORE conservative than the ponies were at the start of g4.

They can have the ponies retrace that growth AND move past it and learn the lesson in a more general sense instead of individual group by individual group, so it's not like this means it's by default worse. They can do even better than the old ponies did, even if they're starting further back. And like, in real life progress is sometimes hit with a reactionary wave that rolls things back for a while, until people fight that wave back to the progress they already got. Then we move forward again, then we're pushed back, then we go back to what we already learned.... It's like we get new progress, then lose that, get back to what we've gotten already, and stay there until we get new progress again, which gets rolled back again, over and over- we DO move forward over time, but it's two steps forward one step back, so there's a frustrating "stop and go" with it.

But it was just emotionally frustrating for me. Like it made me sad. Like they were still bad but at least getting better!! And now here we are, decades into the future, and society hasn't just gone two steps forward and one step back, it's gone WAY, WAY BACK. Farther back than I ever expected. And like that doesn't mean they won't end racism in the MLP universe but it just made me sad to see all that growth get undone, and then go even FARTHER BACK on top of it.

The racist ponies in the movie are MORE RACIST than the ponies in the start of the series. It's bonkers. The only way they could have gotten worse was if they started caring about actual, literal pelt color on top of all of that.

i'm gonna be honest i don't get why they say everypony instead of everybody in mlp. it's not like the word everybody is human-specific. the ponies have bodies. the word everypony, however, is pony-specific in a world where ponies are not the only people in their society, which means it would be more accurate and inclusive to use everybody instead of everypony. it all makes no sense to me

#i made a textpost #i like the characters of the movie tho #but yeah it just made me sad

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lotus-slumbers · 3 days ago

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Introduction to Platonic Yandere! Superman...? [New Character for Request Unlocked: Yandere! Superman]

There's such a thing as hypocrisy, in the way that police officers will turn a blind eye to their peers' brutality and the way political officials will see the money being handed off underneath tables and turn a blind eye. Protector's turned abusers and servants turned benefactors. The world's corruption runs deep and even those who hold themselves to the highest regard are not exempt from the poison of it. It's just too intoxicating.

— Yandere! Batfam is NOT exempt from this cruel law of nature, no matter how hard they try not to stray from the path of the good and righteous. They crack underneath the pressure of their obsession with you, feed off of each other's own delusions, and unanimously agree that this is true and right, even if society sees it as wrong.

— Yandere! Batfam is good at evading an audience. If they don't want to be seen, they won't be. It's as simple as that. Their power and fame are to be used by them, for their goals, not the prying eye and gossiping tongues of the media.

— Yandere! Batfam doesn't lose a wink of sleep at night about your safety within the manor or how the world may view the situation at hand— how closely it could be misunderstood as a kidnapping, ruining their lives and risking Gotham's safety.

— Yandere! Batfam is secure, just as safe as the massive manor they keep you locked up in. It would take something, someone truly unstoppable to break through their defenses.

— Superman makes quick work of it on an odd Sunday afternoon when he finds you trying to shimmy the lock to the Batcave. He stands behind you for a second, watching the thin hairclip do a sorry job, bending and twisting, while he's trying to recount all of the kids Bruce had taken in over the years.

— Superman even puts a hand up, counting out on his hands. Since when was there another? Was there another? He'd never seen you out on patrol with the Bat and he seemed to love endangering orphans.

— Superman, too caught up in his own thoughts, forgets to even lower himself to the ground like a human would. Instead, he hovers there, a massive form even more imposing when you turn and see him. Would it have been worse for Bruce to find you or Superman?!

— "Couldn't bother to Youtube this beforehand?" There is a small grin on his face. He wouldn't be threatened by such a little thing, especially when you look so scared yourself.

— Superman believes you when you scramble to explain your situation, clinging desperately to him like he was a lifeline. Your hero— he likes the sound of that. Except Superman doesn't believe you completely. At first, he thinks there might be something wrong with you.

— Superman leads you to sit, nodding and patting your shoulder as his eyes rove over you. He's searching, ruling out as much as he can. You don't seem intoxicated, you don't seem like you've sustained a head injury...

— Superman isn't a spy. Or, at least he isn't most of the time. He broke into the Wayne Manor in search of Batman and had made no effort to be subtle about it. The alarms had been set off; his great accomplishment was getting inside in the first place.

— Yandere! Batfam was alerted the moment it happened, each one getting the highest-graded emergency alert for the otherwise silent alarm in the manor. They nearly lose themselves in a panic.

— Superman can only start to make sense of the situation when he's looking down the barrel of a shotgun. Alfred Pennyworth, armed and ready, gives him the kindest and most cordial of smiles as he lowers the gun and makes a quip about using the front door. Alfred is as lethal as a neurotoxin, inducing fatal type paralysis. So few can escape his charm, being lulled into a sense of security and trust.

— Yandere! Batfam nearly breaks the door down when they get there, Bruce and one of his heathens, armed and pointing a katana, followed by another and then two more. It's a mess, really. Once one puts their guard down, realizing who it is, another one comes in ready to kick some ass. Eventually, it all settles but the small one with a katana never lowers his blade >:))

— It doesn't take Superman long to figure out just how pissed off Yandere! Batfam is, especially Yandere! Bruce Wayne. Even with his weapons put back away, he looks like he would half the mind to jump him. But, behind that normal annoyance and passive-aggressive remarks Clark is used to getting from Batman, there's something else. For the first time in his life, Superman thinks he sees Batman anxious.

— Superman is scolded. Dick Grayson pulls you from underneath his grasp and his wing instead. This is your only chance, though, God be damned the repercussions you'll suffer later if it doesn't work. You struggle, you cry. "They've kidnapped me!" An awkward tension fills the room. Tim avoided eye contact, Jason stone-faced and glaring alongside Damian, just daring him to try something. Dick joins Alfred in a smile, loudly laughing like the whole thing is a joke.

— Superman makes perfect sense of the situation when Bruce tells him with a genuinely heartbroken look that you're "not well" and "can't understand what's going on." Clark and Bruce may have their differences and fallingouts from time to time, but there's hardly anyone else he knows he can trust and count on. Hardly anyone else he can say is, genuinely, a good man.

— Seeing you cry like that leaves a bitter taste in his mouth, lowering himself down a little and softening his voice to apologize to you. When you don't answer him, now defeated and grieving your failed attempt in the safety of Dick's embrace, it feels worst than a gut punch for Superman. He caused this, he thinks. Bruce only reinforces this guilt when he tells him that they should head somewhere else and talk, ordering the rest of Yandere! Batfam to take care of you and bring you back upstairs to get some rest.

— So, Superman finds himself in the Batcave, relaying important information and threats back to Batman, distracted by the thought of you. He's no good at hiding it, either. Your tears had gotten to him.

— Good, Yandere! Bruce Wayne thinks. Superman has been convinced.

— But... doubt and anxiety still lay underneath his stoic expression. When the topic comes back around to you, right in the middle of Yandere! Bruce Wayne trying to usher him back out the door again, he has to humor him and lay it on him thick because if there's anyone in the world who stood a chance at taking his precious child away from him, it would be the man of steel.

— So, when the Man of Steel insists that he should come back in a week to check on you, to ease his mind (and doubts), Yandere! Bruce Wayne has no choice but to agree and to thank him for wanting to help. It would just be all the more suspicious if he denied him.

— Yandere! Superman does just that exactly a week later to the day and hour, having not stopped thinking about you the whole time he was away...

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acesofspadess · 13 hours ago

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Track Walk {2}

landoscar x content creator!reader

part 1

series summary: You were invited to the Miami GP for your Track Walk series on social media, what follows after you run into a certain Papaya boy, no one could prepare you for...

series warnings: cursing, angst, smut, making out, mentions of people you may not like, mmf, threesome/throuple, if there is more let me know... ;)

a/n: this a long 4 part series, but the chapters will be released daily!! also... there is no hate to anyone mention in this story, it is a work of fiction and any hate towards the characters/people will be deleted.

Singapore 2024

So here you were, the Singapore GP. The past 5 days were eventful to say the least. Your body was covered in love bites from each boy, there was no telling who gave which. Apparently the entire grid and the wags knew, which helped them cover up to the media. You walked in with Lando and Oscar, laughing at a stupid joke Lando said. To anyone besides the drivers, it was a very fun friend group, but you were sure it would stir something up. “Hello, hello, hello.” You waved with a large smile at the camera. “We don’t usually do evening walks do we? But Singapore is the beginning of the night races so get used to it…” The track walk and the weekend went just as planned. During that weekend you met Max Fewtrell for the first time. It was very scary for you. This was someone Lando had grown up with, someone he had chosen to be one of the important people in his life, and you knew how this could look to an outsider- an F1 creator dating not one, but two, of the most prized drivers in the sport. But you two immediately hit it off. “I just know Oscar is enjoying not being the only one having to handle his mess.” He laughed as you guys watched Free Practise. “It’s not even the mess though, Max, it’s the food!...”

The entire weekend was looking favorable for McLaren, and then when Lando kept his position into the first lap, you knew it was game over, another McLaren win was pending. And right you were. “Lando Norris can stop hearing about his starts, and start hearing about his finishes! For the third time Lando Norris takes the chequered flag…”

You bounced up and down with Max as Lando screamed into the radio. “That's a double podium finish for McLaren!” You screamed and he laughed with you before giving you a hug. “They’ll want to see you.” He told her and she shook her head. “Too much attention, they’ll see us after.” She said not wanting to leave Max behind.

The music thumps through the club you all decided to go to after you finished at the track, vibrating the floors as colorful lights flash across the crowded room. Lando, Oscar, and you move through the throng of people, your body already buzzing with the high of celebration. Lando’s win had electrified the night, and the three of you are ready to let loose—carefully.

Lando’s arm stays draped over your shoulder as you make your way to a private booth near the dance floor, Oscar trailing closely behind.

Around the booth, the other drivers and their girlfriends are scattered—Carlos and Rebecca, Max who was running solo, Charles and Alexandra, Pierre and Kika—all laughing and cheering. The energy is high, but there’s an unspoken understanding between them. They know. “I would say cheers to Lando’s amazing race-” Carlos started, “but you only won because of her.” Lando and Oscar shook their heads as everyone around you laughed.

You laughed too, cheeks heating as Lando pulls you closer. "You’re not wrong," he teases, brushing a quick, casual kiss against your temple. It’s brief enough to pass as friendly, but the way your heart skips betrays its meaning. Oscar slides in on your other side, his hand finding your knee under the table and giving it a gentle squeeze, hidden by the dim lighting and shadows.

They’re subtle but deliberate, their touches igniting sparks that make your heart race. The conversation swirls around you, but the trio only has eyes for each other. When the music shifts to something slower and sultry, Lando tugs your hand. "Dance with me," he says, voice low and irresistible.

You follow him onto the dance floor, Oscar not far behind. Lando’s hands find your waist, pulling you against him as your bodies move in sync. Oscar presses in from behind, his chest warm against your back as his fingers brush your arm, sending a thrill down your spine. It’s intoxicating—the heat, the music, the feel of both their bodies surrounding you.

But you have to be careful. Lando shifts slightly, turning you just enough to keep you shielded from prying eyes, and Oscar’s touch drifts away whenever someone looks too closely. The tension grows with every near-miss, every stolen glance, and every lingering brush of fingertips.

Lando leans in, his breath hot against your ear. "You’re ours tonight," he murmurs, voice rough with desire. Your pulse quickens as Oscar’s lips skim your shoulder—quick, subtle, and hidden in the dim lights—adding to the heat coiling low in your stomach.

The three of you move as one, but always just discreet enough to keep your secret. The world blurs around you—flashing lights, the beat of the bass, laughter from your friends at the booth. None of it matters. All you can feel is the heat of their touches, the fire in their eyes, and the promise of what the rest of the night will hold.

f1gossipofficial

liked by user45 and others

f1gossipofficcial The papaya boys went out to celebrate last night with other drivers as well as their girlfriends, but pictures show the papaya boys very close with each other. This comes after a recent video McLaren uploaded where Oscar and Lando were seen holding hands at one point and being very touchy…

user45 oh this is crazy

user67 how do papaya rules work now’

user18 they had a good time last night

user4 how about we stay out of there lives and not dissect and try to out people who clearly don’t want to be outed

user68 landoscar was too good to be fake

user49 i for sure thought one of themm was going to get with Y/N

user23 i thought it was Lando user90 i thought it was Oscar user62 am i crazy for saying both user23 user62 yes user49 user62yes user90 user62 yes

“This sucks.” Oscar said into her neck. They were at the airport saying goodbye because they wouldn’t see each other for another month. “I know, I’m sorry love.” You giggled softly at his dramatics. Your arms were wrapped around his neck, finger scratching the strands of hair at the top of his neck. You looked at Lando who watched the scene unfold. Oscar wasn’t much of a showy person, so seeing him show anything they never took for granted.

“Osc, you okay?” Lando asked seeing his shoulders raise and then drop deeply. “I just feel so complete with her here, I don’t like when she isn’t.” He told his boyfriend who rubbed his back. He finally pulled off letting Lando hug you around your waist lifting you up. “Gonna miss you baby.” he said kissing your cheek knowing people were around. “I’ll miss you both so much. But we’ve done it before right? Osc you’ll see your family. Lan you’re going to Portugal with Max. We’ll al be so busy, it won’t feel like a month will it?”

Lando and Oscar nodded holding onto each other. You checked your RM watch, one the duo had gotten for you this previous weekend. “Time to go, babies.” you sighed. They scooped you into one big hug. “See you soon.” You kissed both of their cheeks before they walked off to their own gate, leaving you at yours.

The month at home was supposed to be a time to recharge, but it only left you restless. Your days blurred together in a haze of casual errands, late-night shows, and constant texts from Lando and Oscar. The messages were frequent and full of love—updates about their time apart, teasing remarks, random photos, and sweet "miss you" notes despite the time zones. Even with their busy schedules, they made an effort to check in, and it always left you smiling.

Then came the post.

Your best friend stormed into your shared flat, phone clutched in hand. “Y/N, you need to see this,” she said, eyes wide with urgency. She handed you her phone, and your stomach dropped.

There, on a gossip page, was a photo of Lando and Magui faces and bodies very close to each other with big smiles on their face in company of Max and Pietra. The caption read: “Lando Norris spotted looking cozy with Magui and friends. This is after rumours of them earlier in the year were clouded over by new friend Y/n L/n and his teammate Oscar Piastri that Lando has been seen getting very flirty with...”

You froze, the phone trembling in your hands, the three of you already saw the airport photos of your group hug. It was what it was to you three though. “What the hell?” you whispered, voice barely audible.

Your mind flashed back to when Lando and Oscar had confessed something about Magui. They’d told you they’d once considered inviting her into their relationship, but something had always held them back. Then they’d met you, and everything changed. They knew immediately they wanted you.

You pushed the memory away, your chest tightening as you stared at the picture.

Without a second thought, you dialed them both. They picked up almost immediately, Lando’s voice warm and his face smiley. “Hey, baby,” he greeted.

Your throat constricted. “I’m not coming to the next GP,” you blurted.

There was a pause. “What? Y/N, what are you talking about? We planned this together.” Oscar cut in confusion on his face.

“I just can’t,” you said, your voice breaking and eyes filling with tears. You didn’t want to bring up the post, unsure if Oscar even knew.

“Wait, what's wrong?” Lando asked, concerned about lacing his tone as he saw your eyes fill.

You shook your head, not trusting yourself. “I’ll talk to you later.” You hung up before they could say more.

That night, your best friend held you as you cried, her arms wrapped tightly around you. “They don’t deserve you if they’re going to pull this shit,” she murmured. But her words only made you cry harder.

The next day, your phone erupted with notifications.

From Lando: "Baby, I swear it’s not what it looks like. Please call me." "I would never do this to you. You have to trust me. Nothing happened." "I’ll explain everything if you just call me. Please, Y/N."

From Oscar: "Y/N, I didn’t think this would get so out of hand. I’m sorry." "You mean everything to us. Don’t let this ruin us." "Please, let’s talk. I’ll tell you everything."

From Max Fewtrell: "Y/N, you know Lando wouldn’t do this to you. He’s losing his mind right now. Please talk to him."

From Alexandra: "Hey, I saw the post. Are you okay? Call me if you need to vent."

From Rebecca: "Y/N, this is so unfair to you. If you need to talk, I’m here."

You ignored them all, until finally, you caved and called Lando and Oscar. They answered on FaceTime, both looking worried.

“Nothing is happening with Magui,” Lando said quickly.

Oscar nodded. “We wouldn’t do that to you. You have to know that.”

“Why wouldn’t you tell us?” You sighed aggravatedly. “If you knew she was going to be there why wouldn’t you say anything? Why would you get close with her again knowing someone's eyes are always on you.

But then, Lando and Oscar got very silent, you could have thought the screen froze, and something passed between them. It was subtle, but enough to make your stomach churn. “What?” you pressed.

Oscar sighed. “I knew she’d be there. I thought it would be fine.”

Your chest tightened as Oscar's words hit you like a punch. "You knew?" you whispered, barely able to contain the hurt. "You knew she'd be there and didn’t say anything?"

Oscar hesitated, looking like he wasn’t sure how to answer. "I didn’t think it would be a big deal," he said quietly. "I thought it’d just be... fine."

"But it is a big deal!" you snapped, your voice rising, frustration bubbling over. "If you had just told me, I wouldn’t be upset. I could have handled it, but now it feels like you’re hiding something. Like you’re trying to have your cake and eat it too."

Lando’s voice cut through the tension, softer but still desperate. "Y/N, that’s not it. We didn’t want you to feel like this. We didn’t mean for it to look like we were hiding anything from you."

"You did hide it, Lando," you shot back, shaking your head. "You knew she was going to be there, and you didn’t tell me. It makes it seem like you wanted to keep me in the dark while keeping her close, like I’m some backup plan."

Oscar looked pained, and Lando seemed to be searching for the right words. "It’s not like that," Oscar said quickly, but there was an edge of panic in his voice. "I didn’t think this would happen. I thought it’d be fine."

"But it’s not fine," you responded, your voice cracking slightly as the weight of it all hit you. "You’ve betrayed my trust, Oscar. And Lando, you should’ve known better. If you had told me, we could have figured it out. But now? Now I feel like everything we shared was an act, something to keep you occupied while you figured your feelings out."

Lando opened his mouth, clearly struggling, so Oscar spoke up in a low voice. "Please, Y/N, we didn’t mean to hurt you. We just... didn’t think—"

"Exactly," you interrupted, your voice soft. "You didn’t think. If you had, we wouldn’t be here right now. I know it's only been a few months, but I thought our relationship was stronger than this. I thought I meant more to you than this, but you’ve shown me I don’t."

“No Y/N-”

With that, you ended the call, the sound of the FaceTime disconnecting echoing in your ears. You sat back on the couch, your heart aching, but you knew this was the only way to handle it. They had crossed a line, and now you had to protect yourself from the mess they had made.

Max Fewtrell texted shortly after: "Y/N, I know what it looks like, but I promise Lando wouldn’t do this to you. He’s doing his head in and acting erratically, please talk to him. He’s about to go into a race weekend."

Hattie messaged, too.. “Oscar fucked up, but I’ve also never seen him this upset with himself. He is so sorry, I’ll never tell you what to do, but just know he really cares.

You ignored everyone.

Of course you watched the triple header, you were still their girlfriend, and before that you were their number 1 supporter. Track Walks were not as fun to you during that time, everything reminded you of what happened. They still texted you everyday, telling you about their day, about their thoughts on the race, saying they missed you and they were so sorry.

But Brazil was a disaster. The rain poured relentlessly, creating dangerous conditions on the track. Both Lando and Oscar struggled, and a red flag giving those who hadn’t had a pitstop a free one essentially knocked Lando out of the Drivers' Championship contention, but besides that, out of a win. Your heart ached watching it all unfold, tears falling down your face slowly, but you stayed silent, refusing to reach out.

A few days later, Max went live on stream with Lando. Lando sounded tired, wanting to stay muted when he didn't have to be heard, his voice hoarse. He admitted he’d been eating old food from months ago and wasn’t feeling well. Max F texted both you and Oscar after the stream: "Lando needs you. He’s not doing well at all."

Oscar replied immediately: "I’m on my way."

You stared at the message, conflicted. It wasn't until the next day when you were eating lunch that Oscar's text messages were blowing up your phone,

Osco: Baby, I know you don't want to talk to us, but Lando really isn't doing well.

Osco: I've spent all morning with him crying into my arms, degrading himself, it hurts so much to hear. He thinks everything is over, he needs you baby. I need you.

Finally, you texted Alexandra and Rebecca, asking what you should do.

Mes Amours 💗

You: Help…Oscar’s been texting me about Lando this morning. He said he spent the morning crying, degrading himself, and thinks everything’s over. I want to be there, but I’m so hurt. I don’t know what to do.

Alexandra: Wow… I knew things were rough for them, but that’s heavy. You’ve got to take care of yourself first though. If you’re not ready, you’re not ready.

Rebecca: I get that, but… it won’t get better if you don’t talk to them. And, Y/N, I’m going to be honest here: Carlos is worried about Lando too. He told me Lando’s been completely off lately—barely eating, barely talking. He’s spiraling.

Alexandra: Wait, really? I mean, I knew they weren’t doing great in Brazil, but I didn’t think it was that bad.

Rebecca: It is. Carlos says he hasn’t been himself for weeks. And honestly, if Carlos is worried, you know it’s serious. Lando needs you, Y/N. Even if it’s just to talk. You don’t have to forgive them yet, but they need you right now.

You: I’ve missed them so much, it hurts. But I’m scared. What if I go back and things still don’t feel right? What if they don’t really understand how much they hurt me?

Rebecca: Then you tell them. You lay it all out there. But Y/N, we know how deeply you care for them, and it’s obvious they care about you too. I think they understand, they just need to see you in person.

Alexandra: Whatever you do, we are holding your hand. Taking a deep breath, you texted Max Verstappen: Can I use your jet?

#lando norris x reader #lando norris x black!reader #lando norris fluff #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 fic #f1 imagine #lando norris #lando norris smut #f1 x driver!reader #oscar piastri x black!reader #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri #oscar piastri smut #oscar piastri x reader

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everestgale · 1 day ago

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You're lucky. What I would give to be able to forget—

[Drawing and design notes under the cut]

*cackles* Turns out, even putting just Hero through Moment of Clarity wasn't enough for Everest, they needed to make all of their voices suffer :]

This drawing was a very funny one because it just kept evolving until it got to what you see now! It was supposed to be a quick doodle where I send my human Hero to MoC... but then I wanted to add the other voices and give this drawing some nice lineart... and then I wanted to add flat colors to make sure each character is distinct from one another... and then I added light shading—

Despite how much it grew out of my control, and despite how much trouble it gave me composition and concept-wise, I'm quite happy with the final result. I'm glad I could at least play around and make some concepts for how my voices would change during the Moment of Clarity. Some were definitely on the simpler side, but others had quite a few neat details! If you're curious to read my thoughts on that, well, there we go!

Stubborn: definitely one of the simpler ones, though both of his Adversary-borrowed horns are snapped, almost symbolizing his usual will to fight depleting almost completely. He also has a bunch of bruise/dust marks all over him, as though he just came out of a fight.

Broken: I went with the obvious one and gave him a bunch of cracks for how shattered he is. But I also made his ears longer (which is the case for all of my voices that have "loose"/hair-like feathers - which are Hero, Smitten, and Broken)... and also he has a suspicious scar on his neck—

Cold: he is the voice that has the least "damage" on him, only really having some missing/messy bang feathers. He does, however, seem even colder than usual, insisting that all other voices are too soft, and they need to be numb and unfeeling... what's a better way to represent that than to literally have him covered in light icy texture?

Paranoid: my poor Paranoid always, always wears gloves when he can, it's a headcanon of mine that he feels extremely uncomfortable and anxious without them. And, uh, he is not wearing any in this drawing. Also just like the Hero in this and previous MoC drawings, he does not have any claws on his hands. His claws are gone :]

Skeptic: he was a difficult one for sure, I couldn't quite figure out how to represent his damage and distress. I ended up breaking a link on his neck shackle (which is barely noticeable), breaking his spiky collar feathers (which is barely noticeable), and adding a light "unraveling" texture (which is, again, barely noticeable). He does look very uncertain and confused, though, so at least I got that right!

Smitten: Smitten borrowed some of the elements from his HEA design, mainly the straightened hair and fallen-out curls. But to differentiate between the two designs, I also added a crack along the center of Smitten's face, like the one you might see on a broken heart :]

Opportunist: Opportunist actually doesn't seem to be doing too horribly during MoC (at least if you compare him to some of the other voices), which is why his design isn't as damaged as some of the other ones. He is tattered and messy, sure, but not completely destroyed like some of the other voices, though I did make sure to give him a very wide-eyed... half-scared, half-empathetic expression, I guess.

Hunted: while his quote "Kill or be killed" was taken out during one of the updates, I really wanted to include it in the drawing because I think it characterizes Hunted during this route very well. That's why his primary damage is blood splatters, from numerous and numerous and numerous deaths.

Cheated: he was fairly simple to do because his default design is already cut up and stitched together. All I needed to do was to add a few more gaping wounds and unravel his stitches. That's why his right ear is missing, too!

Contrarian: similar to Cheated, Contrarian also just got a feature of his regular design—cracks—greatly exaggerated. Contrarian really didn't seem to be doing well during MoC, which is why I went all out on his cracks. Couldn't let him open his eyes, or drop his "smiley" expression completely, but you hopefully can tell that he is barely hanging in there.

Hero: oh, Hero, my sweet, sweet boy Hero. I already talked about his MoC design in a previous post—broken visor feathers to represent his destroyed nature as a "hero" and missing claws—and his long, very unkempt feathers represent the passage of time (how long they've been stuck in there) and almost unraveling (how badly has Hero been damaged by whatever they all experienced in the lead up to Moment of Clarity).

...should be all I wanted to ramble about! Hope you all like this drawing as much as I enjoyed making it :]

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omgnia · 13 hours ago

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--i was ballz to the wallz stoned when i wrote this the other night, and i am now quite embarrassed to have written it. but not embarrassed enough to leave it drafts--

why is it significant that in lilo and stitch, lilo specifically seeks a good angel ("the nicest angel you have"), while in nosferatu, ellen opens the door to a demon ("a spirit of any celestial sphere")? The scenes serve almost identical purposes in their respective movies: they occur at the very beginning of the narrative, thus introducing the protagonist's initial conflict and their relationship to it.

in both nosferatu and lilo & stitch, the entity summoned is a foil to the protagonist, serving to illuminate the aspects of their own character that they have yet to reckon with. Lilo has her constant attraction to mischief, coupled with a contempt for the social ostracization she faces due to her mischievous nature. thus, through her relationship with her creature of another celestial sphere, Stitch, lilo wrestles with these feelings, externalized in another body. and the way she summons stitch creates an apparent irony between what she requested and what came to her, forcing her to confront these feelings. she comes to embrace in stitch, and herself, the power and joy in being strange and chaotic, and to recognize the goodness possible in these traits.

ellen has a confusing psychic tendency and inner darkness that she struggles to suppress, and nosferatu forces her to confront this darkness. his presence is pure darkness, he manifests in shadows, he has powers of persuasion, etc., he's violent, jealous, eternally hungry/horny. he forces this darkness into the forefront of ellen's life, makes it impossible for her to suppress it further. here, ellen's initial statement reflects a desparation--ellen is in such distress that she will accept the aid of any spirit, even one beyond good and evil. but what does it say about her that she was willing to accept the aid of a demon? does she like what she invigted in? was she really desperate, or summoning exactly what she wanted, an intriguing unknown?

i think also interesting to think of the social positions that lilo and ellen occupy, respectively. it seems like in a movie ((at least these two movies), it is more interesting to see an outsider pray than an insider. it is interesting to see how an outsider, or someone disfavored, receives divine intervention

Nosferatu (2024) // Lilo & Stitch (2002) (insp)

#this was the first thought i had when i saw nosferatu #i loved it

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yearningandstillnotlearning · 3 days ago

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𝑺𝑻𝑨𝒀 𝑺𝑶𝑭𝑻,

𝑮𝑬𝑻 𝑬𝑨𝑻𝑬𝑵.

A/N: okay bear with me, this is a ‘poem’ (i don’t know what else to call it) that i wrote and when i read over it i realised some girls here would appreciate this imagery with their own infatuations, so whilst its not written like fan-fiction i felt generous enough to share it and i hope at least 1 of you will like it, best part is that you can picture any one of your favourite girls!!! Instead of a name i call the other character “Pretty”, so keep that in mind while reading, and again, this isn’t written like fan-fiction, but still i would appreciate it if you gave it a shot and told me what you think ♡

tags: lesbian only, think anyone!, femme!r, metaphors, suggestive, nsfw undertones but they are so slight and hidden beneath the wordplay that i can’t really count this as nsfw, sadomasochistic in a way, did i forget something? Let me know!

· · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · · ୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨ · · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · ·

I don’t want a cottage, i don’t want a life in simplicity and independency. I want a castle, i want an abandoned mansion adorned by vines hugging it long after solitude fell cold and loveless upon its very walls.

I want to hear the floors creak with every step, i want to hear the tremble of the floors effortlessly mirror the tremble of her legs, i want to have her, Pretty, and i want to keep her on her toes. I want, behind her gaze, to be as unpredictable as the grass around the mansion, a neglected ring of hues of green. Tall, short, eaten, rotten.

I want to give her the world, and i want to make her spin in the middle of it, i want to give her everything and make her feel like in a moment she could have nothing.

I want to make her dizzy and i want to make her euphoric, i want to see her scared and i want to hold her close, be the one to comfort her, Pretty.

I want our clothes to dance against each other when the weather drops and i take her out on walks, on the endless garden we’ve named ‘our hearts’ that no matter how long it’s been there for, untouched, unloved, uncared for, it just never seems to end.

I want her to let me tear her cotton fabrics apart and off, torn by grinding teeth and claw-like nails, hungry like a centuries-old vampire, lifetimes of self control and respect disintegrated in the very same time span Pretty’s clothes get ripped. Carefully laboured fabric, soft as freshly laved hair, made with the selfish, miserable thought of this granting them extra bread on their dinner plate.

And she would, she would let me tear her apart in one shared gaze. She would let me hold her and scratch her open, she would let me wound her because she knows i’ll be the one to heal her up again. And she knows i’ll do it before she can build the thought of asking me to.

She would let me darken her vision under the noon sun, heating and blinding. She would let me bruise her neck, violet splats trailing down her body like a rosemary. She would let me reach her depths and spin them around, it’d be nothing new to her, as long as her world is intertwined with mine she’s always spinning, she’s always dizzy. She would let me cradle her head as i treat her like fresh meat in aching, starved hands, because i’ve done so another hundred times, and each one she only seems more unwilted than the last.

Because she knows she’ll get me back.

Because she plans on making my darkest nights luminous, and she knows i’ll let her. The story is always the same; she unwraps me like a one-of-a-kind royal heirloom, her touches vigilant, precise on what she unfolds, what lies beneath her hands. And she knows i don’t fancy peace, her words forming clear juxtaposition to her touches, there are no blurred lines, my sense of touch and my sense of hearing are in two completely different words, and yet they co-exist in the pits of my stomach.

But like every child asking their parent to tell them a bedtime story, it doesn’t matter if its always the same, they always enjoy it the same. At the end of the day they fall asleep to it every time.

I’ll let her unwrap the lace off the corset, i’ll let her loosen every layer, watch the silks fall off my form, i’ll let her tell me the harshest things that leave my throat closing in on itself, as her hands soothe around my flesh getting me to ease up. She’ll rock me back and forth from being velvety to being cruel, i know it, and i will let her.

Because it takes two to dance, if you’re unable to match the other’s rhythm what’s the fun? It’s only enjoyable when you’re both having fun. 🫀

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bowsnstrings · 2 days ago

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Diamond Boy (DTM)!

Onyankopon x Black Coded Character✌️🏾

Summary: After realizing that she has feelings for her handsome plug, Milana decides to give in to her rapidly growing crush for him, but what happens when things get a bit too intimate too fast?

Warning MDNI!: First date fluff mostly! Mentions of thigh riding, Praise and Dirty Talk, Mentions of smoking weed, Mentions of food, Original character with original descriptions.

Masterlist:🍃

Word Count: 6.8k

First kisses were supposed to be awkward, a little disappointing, and definitely nerve wracking. Too much tongue, or not enough passion, at least something that you could go and tell your friends about so you don’t sound like you’re already falling for a person you’ve only kissed. At least a little funny cringey moment to keep it lighthearted and easy, nothing like the kiss Milana and Ony shared.

It started so sweet, his lips pressing so softly over hers that she questioned if this was actually happening. Her first kiss, clutching the most gorgeous flowers she’d ever received, holding onto an even more beautiful boy. Her hand, shaky with anxiousness, raised to rest over the side of his face, thumb sliding over his cheek to feel his warm skin and ground her enough to savor every second.

Something about that made everything change in an instant, Ony pressing forward with determined movements, practiced ease getting the best of her. He easily took the lead, capturing her again and again, using a hand on her chin to help her keep pace with him. Her other hand held onto his bicep, feeling like she was going to topple over if they continued, neither of them thinking about anything else in the moment besides the electric feeling that came when they connected.

Moving in sync to deepen it further, until they pulled apart with nasty smack, both taking large breaths to cool down. It seemed like Ony couldn’t get enough though, giving her two quick pecks to her pursed lips, her eyes dreamy and looked like they were swirling with hearts.

“Fuck.” He groaned, purring low right in her face, biting down on his lip to contain himself from doing too much in public. His eyes scanned around to make sure no one was looking, lazily combing the area until they landed back on hers, another smile on his face that made her feel a lot lighter. “You be getting niggas caught up, huh?”

Her face scrunched up, smacking her lips as Ony laughed, a hand coming to cover up his smile as Milana pushed him away. “No.” She rolled her eyes at him, joining in on his sniggering, not being able to hold back her joy for long. “I don’t even date.” The admission wasn’t as bitter as she thought it would be, just a shrug off that she wasn’t so concerned about.

“This is a date, Ma. What ‘you think I’ve been trying to do all day?” He wiggled his brows at her suggestively, standing up to get out of his crouched position, moving back to sit and actually start eating.

“What? This is not a date. You have to ask a girl first, Ony.” She exclaimed as he dropped down, not knowing if he was eyeing her or his ribeye in hunger. “Besides, how do you know I wanna go on a date?” Deciding it was better to join him instead of staring, she laid her flowers down to pick up her silverware with a teasing remark.

He couldn’t even hide his happiness at her burst of confidence, chuckling at the way her lips twisted to hide her smile, determined to hold her face steady. That’s alright, he knew exactly what to say to make her crack. “Mama, with the way you kiss we're for sure going on a date.”

Oh Ony was good alright, that low drawn out humm while thinking of the memory was a nice added touch, her legs clamping shut as soon as the deep sound left him. She had to admit, he had game, but she wasn’t going to just let him have all the fun. “Still didn’t hear you ask me…” Milana sighed, playing up her uninterested look by sitting back, mimicking his nonchalant face that he puts on.

His eyes lit up in recognition, laughing at the way she bunched her eyebrows together like he did when he was annoyed. Damn, was he really that readable? She must’ve done her homework, seen him more than he thought she had. As flattering as it was, he still wasn’t going to let her win, licking over his bottom lip to bring in her focus as he dropped his voice to really play up his words.

“Please, Milana?”

That definitely did it, her hands jerking at his sultry plea, like he was begging to kiss her again. Fork accidentally clashing onto her plate noisily, face flushed in surprise, trying to collect herself under his steamy gaze. She realized that he was waiting on a response, actually asking in a way she’d never expect in a million years. “Okay…” Agreeing blindly, knowing that if he ever wanted her to do something, all he’d have to do was say is please.

“Tomorrow, it’s settled.”

“Ony!” She should’ve definitely seen that one coming, and yet she still dropped her mouth in shock, flowers nearly bumped off the table if it weren’t for her hands grabbing them as quickly as they did. “Are-you can’t be serious. So soon?”

He nodded enthusiastically, with almost childlike wonder like they were elementary crushes getting to sit together for the first time. “The only day it can happen is tomorrow. Promise if you go you’ll have fun.” With the way he said it, she definitely believed him, and why not throw caution to the wind. So far when she did it got her some action, no harm in that. So, she said yes, twirling a petal around her finger as she felt her flowers, smiling across from him as they talked about any and everything. They sat there for the longest breakfast in the world, getting to know each other like they were old friends meeting again. Laughing at their similarities, sharing their values, and trying to get Ony to spill any clues about their first date.

He wouldn’t budge at all, instead redirecting her with jokes and funny stories as they ate, showing such a rare side of him not a lot of people saw. It’s been such a long time since he felt like he could let loose around a girl, not having to put up a tough ass act, afraid that if he showed even a bit of vulnerability the fantasy of a relationship would just crumble. Provide, protect, and don’t be a pussy, the only things he was told about women really.

For once, he thought that maybe, just maybe, he didn’t always have to be so hard all the time. That Ony could take off that mask he wears, and not have to hold back from expressing himself because she was doing the same for him. He could see it, the way she was trying to be vulnerable like she couldn’t help but wear her heart on her sleeve, and all he wanted was to be the one to keep it safe for her.

Perhaps, that’s why he already couldn’t keep his hands off of her, a calloused palm sliding down her arm being cautious and gentle. Walking hand in hand underneath a lovely orange sun, the blue sky pushing wind to blow her hair around and make her look so pretty that he didn’t want to drop her back off. Clinging onto her hand as they made it to Milana’s front door again, knowing that the waiting was going to eat him alive.

“I had a good time.” She admitted, her shy attitude making it that much harder to go, his thumb rubbing over her knuckles to commit the feeling to memory. “I’ll see you tomorrow?” Hopeful excitement shining in her eyes as they looked up at him, his head falling down to lean in closer, eclipsing her view of everything besides him.

“Six o’clock, tomorrow. Give me until then, Mama.” He murmured to her, pressing a long lasting kiss to her lips, pulling her in by sliding his hand around her back. Letting out a squeal and scrambling hands to hold onto him, she made sure not to stumble over in her sandals from trying to get to him so fast, head spinning at the way he was able to take the reins like that.

Ony willed himself away from her, drawing her in a calming hug that let her rest into him for just a second longer before he started walking back to his car. Calling out a goodbye after him, voice breathless with a meek wave. Making him turn one last time to send her a coy wink as he ducked into the front seat, leaving her standing on her doorstep like she was in a dream.

The rest of the day moved as slowly as she did, barely wanting to do anything else besides write and stare at the lilies now sitting in her nightstand vase. Oh God, would it be bad if she told him she missed him while he was gone? Too much and too soon, right? Definitely too clingy already, but a part of her was just crushing too hard right now. Kicking her feet up while she laid in bed, journal filled with curly cursive words, gushing over him like she was talking to her best friend.

All her life she could only imagine what this would feel like, and now she was experiencing it firsthand. That warm bubbly feeling of romance that she'd been begging for, and the thrill of it all was just too exhilarating. Ony was suave, confident, so effortlessly in control of everything he did, being with him felt like being able to let go. Release all her worry and stress, and it was scary to her that he could throw her into a total state of compliance, maybe even scarier was the fact that she liked being able to be the docile and sweet one while he handled everything.

He paid for their breakfast like it was his job, didn't even let her see the check, let alone touch it. Milana had a feeling that he was always generous, that he had a good heart underneath all that intimidation. Maybe, he just showed it through gestures, his actions definitely grand, making her feel spoiled already. She thought about it all as she hugged onto Oreo, trying to receive a bit more affection, counting down the hours until the arms she’d be in wouldn't have fur or paws.

The entire day since Milana woke up, she'd been getting ready for their night out. Practically glued to her vanity as she tweezed her brows, applied a mud mask, watching housewives as she did her makeup. Her skin rubbed down in marshmallow body cream, spraying her favorite perfume as she watched herself in the mirror, rollers giving her a slight headache as she tried not to be so nervous.

Taking the time out to pamper herself was nice, it relaxed her down, the hour long bath was helpful getting her in the right headspace, but she just wanted to see him already. He might've said something nice or funny to get her to smile instead of worrying, or calm her nerves enough to stop freaking out inside.

She stood in the mirror for nearly an hour, trying on everything in her closet that would be a possibility for any date. Skirts, heels, shorts, tops, but none of them felt right until the last outfit. Ony never told her what they'd be doing when they went out, so she only could hope that her long, tight brown dress with a crochet green bolero matched the occasion. She paired it with tan sandals in case they'd be close to the beach or had to do some walking, and her chunky vintage coach shoulder bag.

Milana wanted to impress him, look special and pretty, imagining she was a princess for the night as she slid in her twisted gold hoop earrings. By the time she was finished, it was getting into the late afternoon, trying to drink some honey chamomile tea and have some fruit to quell her nerves. Hearing that knock at the door almost spooked her, a rush of anxiousness hitting her all at once as she stopped to look at herself one more time.

Fluffing her hair and finding an extra roller she accidentally left in, she quickly straightened up and made sure nothing was in her teeth before pulling the door open. “Hi, Ony.” Milana smiled, trying to appear effortless and nonchalant until she saw the bouquet of flowers he held in his hands. Pretty pink and white roses, all blooming gracefully, wrapped in green paper for her to receive. He looked just as perfect as they did. Loose fitting jeans and a hoodie that made his arms look even bigger, a heavy gold chain glittering from underneath.

“Hey, Mama. These are for you.” He must've gotten a shave, his facial hair looking sharper, hair covered by a fitted baseball bat. His cologne almost engulfed her as he passed her the roses, pressing a kiss to her cheek as she breathed him in.

“Ony, you already got me flowers.” She still cooed happily as he gifted them to her, letting him inside all giddy and giggly.

“These are for our date, thought you might like ‘em when I saw the pink.” He remembered her saying that was her favorite color yesterday when they had breakfast, so he knew it'd only be right for her to have them.

“Aww, thank you. Let me get something to put them in.” He closed the door for her, eagerly entering to breathe her home in further, smiling at the good feeling he had being inside. The candles she lit had the perfect scent of vanilla, but nothing rivaled her perfume that was floating everywhere. He stopped for a moment, just taking it in as he stopped at a particular photo on the wall.

“You a writer?” He asked, pausing specifically at a picture he saw when he spent the night, one where she stood in her graduation gown, neck covered in medals and holding awards. She looked so cute when she was younger, glasses thicker and hair a bit shorter in curls pouring out of her decorated cap.

“I am I guess. Won a scholarship for it, but I think I should probably start writing more often.” She hummed out as she tried finding another vase for the new bunch of flowers. His gaze getting stuck on her as she bent over, noticing just how tight her dress was. He nearly swore out loud as her hips wiggled trying to pull it from the cabinet, her ass shaking lightly enough to trap him in a daze. Guess he’ll just have to adjust himself all night while he silently suffers.

“Is that what you do for work?” He tore his eyes away, feeling a bit hot as he tried distracting himself. Ony watched her straighten back up, filling the glass with water as she answered.

“Yeah, freelance. Pays the bills and what not.” She was fixing up the petals of her roses, placing them down on the table as he approached her. Reaching into his hoodie pocket, he pulled out something once she turned around, letting her eyes zero in on it before explaining.

“Picked up a treat for us,” His palm opened to show her a sandwich bag full of nugs, shifting around in there, hypnotizing her into watching it. The smell of potent greenery filled the air as soon as he opened it, letting her get a whiff and laughing when she scrunched her face at the smell of straight weed. “Named it ‘Laid-back ‘Lana’.” She couldn’t contain the giggle that bubbled up her throat at the name, her hand trying to cover her mouth at his playfulness.

“Why’d you name it that?” Milana asked, their light and playful banter easing away any thoughts from earlier. This is definitely what she missed, just being around him, basking in the way he joked around.

“‘Cause this shit will have you laid back on that ass the same way you had me on your couch.” Ony chuckled as he watched her burst into a fit of laughter, the most relaxed she’d ever been around him, and the atmosphere was only getting less and less tense. “Here, you got papers?” He asked, handing the bag for her to inspect some more.

“I don’t know how to roll my own…” Her hands fumbled slightly as Milana tried not to sound pathetic, but at twenty-two she should probably know how to roll her own blunt. Or change a tire, or file taxes; maybe she should start with those first.

“Don’t sweat it, Ma. I got backwoods, but you’ve probably never smoked with ‘em before. I got some good ass flavors though.” Obviously coming prepared, he pulled out a packet of the cigar leaves, the purple package reflective under the light as she read the words, ‘Honey Bourbon’, written all over it. “We got to head out to make it before it gets hella dark, so we’ll smoke on the way.”

After grabbing everything and locking up they left to head out, Ony’s hand falling to her back as he went behind her. The walk to his car was dizzying, feeling so stiff with the touch of a man on her. He lead her without having to say a word, and she almost felt like she could float away if she let herself go a bit more, scared of what would happen if she did. Sliding into his car to drive wherever they were supposed to be going, just taking the time to watch Ony as he moved.

Given his occupation, it was no wonder how experienced he was with handling the eighth he was carrying. Grinding it down easily, dusting it gradually into the leaf, thick fingers squeezing and rolling it between each other. Licking it off with a smooth glide of the tongue, their eyes meeting as he did, making her flush and look away. By the time she looked back he was done, the fat blunt sitting between his lips as he lit it, puffing out smoke that danced in the air, wrapping around their heads in grey streaks.

He leaned his head back, letting it glide out then sucking it back in to blow a ghost, shifting slightly to look at her as he passed it. She took it, knowing it'd at least ease her up some more, generously taking it down her lungs until she pulled back coughing after her uncoordinated breath. “Don't smoke much?” Ony laughed at how her eyes narrowed, he knew that already, just was teasing.

“I’ve never had any this strong.” Milana admitted, taking a much smaller puff before handing it back. The effects hitting her almost immediately, eyes going lax and lips pressing together as she felt a rush of euphoria. Ony had to admire how sexy she looked like that, her lashes hanging lower in a sensual cateye. Driving was his only distraction, trying not to turn and glance at her every five seconds, but he was failing that miserably. She wasn't doing much better, the high making it just that more obvious so she faced the window instead, watching the beach waves in his music filled car driving down the highway. Thirty minutes of the most torturous drive for either of them, only wanting to jump each other's bones and forget the formalities.

They were looking forward to this though, especially with the way Ony was so proud of himself once he saw her reaction. Pulling in she could see all the bright shining lights, hues of blue, red, and yellow everywhere in the cartoonish displays. The rides flashing at her as people screamed with joy in every direction, and soon as she stepped out of the car with his help, she could smell popcorn and funnel cake in the air. “The fair?” Her face was just lit up, and it had him pausing as he took it all in. That face was going to be the end of him, because he knew already that he'd go to the ends of the Earth just to see her look at him like that.

“Today’s the last day it’s in town. Knew I had to take you.” Ony took her by the hand as they walked around, getting through the entrance to take in every exciting sight and decide what they wanted to do first. He left it in her hands, indifferent to it all as he just wanted to let her have all the fun she wanted, happily trailing a step behind as she pulled him by the hand. Milana turned to look at him every step of the way, scanning his face to see if anything caught his eye.

They stopped at the ticket counter first, Ony reaching into his pocket for a thick wad of cash inside, neatly folded bills that he grabbed and pulled apart. Counting each one silently in her head, she tried to ignore the mixed feeling of guilt and gratitude, but that was easy given how desirable he looked while being so gracious. She briefly wondered if she should be scared about them getting robbed, but when she took into account how strong he looked, there wasn't too much to be afraid of. His eyes lazy as he hid the rest in his pocket, passing the woman the cash as he asked her, “Where you want to go first, Mama?”

“I don't know… I think I want to do some games, but I’m scared we won’t win.” Milana looked down at the string of red tickets the woman gave her, all bunched together in her hands. “Maybe this one?” She stopped at the booth right in front of them, a fish pond game where they'd at least get a prize judging by how easy it looked. Even the little kids around it were doing well, but Ony only gave a noncommittal hum as he continued looking around, his arm coming to wrap around her shoulders from behind, stepping so close that her stomach clenched in anticipation.

“What about that one?” He turned them to face a little further down, another game table there with giant prizes hanging all at the top. She let him maneuver them towards it, a little unsure once they got closer. It was a BB gun challenge, having to shoot down the targets from a far distance away.

“Are you sure?” Milana looked up at him, holding onto their tickets skeptically. She didn't want to be wasteful, Ony already paid a bunch of money for them to be able to get inside and use the tokens for rides and such. Ultimately, it didn't matter though, not with the way he was seemingly so flippant about it, taking some from her hands to pass to the worker there waiting on them.

“Don’t sweat it, Ma. Have some faith in me.” He was confident, if not a little cocky as he picked up the rifle, resting it in his hands as he focused his sights on aiming it correctly. His feet shoulder with apart, thick finger on the trigger with one eye closed, not moving or even taking a breath.

*bang*

Maybe it was how high she was, but the first shot came out of nowhere, making her jump when she heard the pellet make contact with the painted wood, hitting the small red dot in the middle.

*bang*

The last two were quicker, but still made her eyes widen in awe at how fast he’d done that, moving one by one down the line until all three had holes in the center. She didn’t even think a minute had passed by before he was done, sliding the gun down and handing it back to the guy at the stand.

“What did we win?” Ony asked, turning to Milana as the man pointed out the stuffed animals hanging at the top of the booth, giant, almost as tall as her, and all so pretty. Immediately, she narrowed in on a big brown bear, with dark fur and sparkly chestnut eyes. She pointed meekly to it, arms stretched open to let the cuddly animal fall into them as it was passed to her. “You like it?”

Nodding, all smiley as her nails raked through its fur, she couldn’t express how grateful she was, carrying it around as they went down the rows of attractions. Playing games, sharing the biggest plate of funnel cake she’d ever seen, and laughing when Ony got powdered sugar all over his nose, willingly letting her dust it off with her soft hands. He ended up carrying her bear as they made their way to their last ride, the Ferris wheel, helping her step up into the seat as it rocked slightly back and forth.

“Is this safe?” Milana’s eyebrow raised slightly as she sat down, looking around at all the other swinging chairs. It was his idea to go after he told her he’s never been on one before, but now it looked a bit too scary for her.

“Ain’t nothing gonna happen.” He was gruff about it, setting up her bear in the seat so it wouldn’t fall before sliding in the middle, throwing an arm on the back of her chair to wrap around her shoulders. As soon as their door closed the employee pulled the lever to let the ride start, her breath hitching in her chest as it moved mechanically.

“Are you just not afraid of anything?” She asked, not knowing if it was rhetorical or not as the wheel began turning, slowly bringing them higher and higher. She could only stare down at her toes as they got further from the ground.

“What’s there to be afraid of?” Playfully, he rocked her by her shoulders to pull her away from fearfully looking at the floor. Getting her attention to focus on him instead, he figured getting her talking would get her to stop gripping the railing with white knuckles.

“Well for starters, how high up we are.” Her deadpan expression made him chuckle, laying back cool as could be once the ride stopped them at the very top, the world looking much prettier when you could see all the glowing lights in the distance.

“How can I be scared right now?” Ony truly was content, a man who had nothing to fear, only things to desire. Not for more things like money or a new car, he already had all that. He’s craving for something real, someone to share his life with, even someone who he could lean on too.

“I’m always scared,” Her voice was shaky as she tried to close her eyes and relax, vulnerable as she poured her heart out, getting it off her chest. “I think it’s just easier when you’re around though.” Their hands interlocking, his squeezing hers reassuringly at her admission. Just sitting for a second to look at the city from so high up, the breeze flying in their faces making her nose cold.

“Y’don’t have to be scared. I’ll be here, no matter what.” How could he not, stuck in a trance from her beautiful face. Bouncing between her round eyes, fluttering lashes covering the brown, then sliding to her cute button nose, and full pink lips. Committing each detail to memory, counting each beauty mark as her hair blew back in the wind.

“No matter what?” He nodded with determination, no empty promise in sight when they were at the top of the Ferris wheel, just the two of them together and their unwavering bond. “Just… promise me. Promise that you’ll tell me if it’s too much. If I’m too much.” She asked him, fear lacing her tone, afraid to be the one to ruin this for herself, to ruin them already. He didn’t give her the chance to allow the thought to take over, ducking his face down as he slid closer.

“You’ll never be too much. Just right to me.” He whispered, just to her, leaning over to kiss her, cupping the side of her face to keep them close as he groaned from her eagerness to kiss him back. This is what he’d been missing, his mouth moving with hers in sync, allowing those walls to come crumbling down. Hungry for it, craving the affection that being with one another provided, so caught up in their intimate moment to notice that the ride was descending until they were almost to the bottom.

Milana pulled away first, blinking up at him with her shy little smile as Ony’s fingers danced across her cheek, allowing him to lean down and press one last kiss to her lips before they stepped off. Holding each other as they walked back to his car, her head resting on his shoulder the entire way as he led them back to his car, both unable to stop laughing from how much fun they had just being together the entire weekend. She couldn’t even stare at anything else besides him the entire way, going down the highway at night but Ony still managed to shine brighter than the moon beaming down at them. His handsomeness was distracting enough, but getting to know him personally, in a way that most people don’t, was the icing on the cake in her eyes.

They just couldn’t let each other go, she was practically tripping over her feet trying to pull him by his heavy arm. Ony trailing behind, enjoying her more assertive side as she got him to come into her apartment rather easily. To be honest, she could’ve asked him anything and he would’ve done it in a heartbeat right now, too happy making this night perfect for her. The lights dim as they flopped down onto her couch, still reeling from all the excitement. “I can’t believe we just went on a date.” She sighed happily, tossing off her sandals as she faced him, seeing how he couldn’t seem to take his eyes off of her.

“Really? Thought it was only a matter of time.” He didn’t like feeling far away from her, hand itching to reach out, his willpower getting lower and lower. Grabbing her by the waist, an abundance of giggles rained out as she wiggled in his arms until he settled her down on his leg again, just like he’d done at the club.

They took a moment to take each other in, Milana shifting to sling her other leg over his body, unintentionally sitting flush on his thigh, but too wrapped up in how good it felt being close to him to notice. Shifting up to lean in, he cupped the side of her face, tender as he pulled her in to kiss her, a quick peck that had her slowly melting into him. Her hips moving to get closer until an unfamiliar feeling shot through her, making her go stiff in his hands. “What’s wrong?”

She didn’t know at first, mind still trying to register the arousal that she felt pooling deep within, hands falling onto his shoulders as she unsurely ground down again. Call it virgin curiosity, but she couldn’t stop exploring after her first taste of pleasure. Her head spinning with confusing sensations, the heaviness of passion weighing her down to roll back and forth on his thigh another time until her eyes shifted up and saw his expression. Blank with disbelief, mouth agape as he watched her move, kick starting her into stopping her movement to explain herself.

“Sorry! I’m so sorry-I don’t-” Ony snatched her up in an instant, grabbing her by the hips to pull her into riding his thigh again. She never expected that, hands staying up in the air out of pure shock before he pulled them down, urging her to touch him back. Milana did so as she whimpered, trying to keep up with the way he was moving her.

“I tried.” He grunted, his body working with fervor as he helped her grind, eyes shut tight as he felt himself quickly hardening, his thigh tensing underneath her. “I really fucking tried, but I need you.” Big and burly arms locked tightly around her as he breathed her in, mind going fuzzy as he tuned out entirely, letting his actions speak for him. Adrenaline was pumping through them, hands gripping at each other, desperate to touch, feel, see everything they could. Everywhere her fingers grazed left him yearning for more, the realization that he’d been craving for this his entire life felt like cold water splashing over his heated skin. Too used to floating in and out of people’s lives to get the touch that he needed, the touch that only she seemed to provide, practically thriving after starving for it.

“You’re alright, Mama.” He reassured, hands sliding under her dress, Milana was spooked at first by the touch, but was relaxed down by his calming strokes. They moved so easily, bunching up her dress until it rose around her hips to give him more access to her, kisses trailed along her collarbone to keep her from retreating into her head.

He began moving upward, skimming her throat as his mind went blank, the only thing he could tangibly string together was her name over and over in his mind. Her hair, her voice, her scent, it made him feel dizzy just thinking about it, a burning feeling of greed taking over any rational thought. He needed her badly, running hot as he finally made it to her face, opening his eyes to meet hers as he pressed forward, taking her by surprise as he lowered her down slow into his lap, feeling her nearly bare skin meet his jeans.

Her mouth dropped open in the neediest moan he’d ever heard, long and whiney, eyes rolling to the back of her head as they closed. The expression was just too good, making his dick jump as he sat up, clutching her hips desperately. “Fuck, Milana.” He groaned out, slightly shifting to get her adjusted, quickly needing her to feel him too. “Don’t do that shit, Baby. Gonna stop my fucking heart.”

She couldn’t say anything, too busy trying to stop herself from shaking as Ony began moving her up and down his groin over his pants. Rocking her hips faster, steadier, with so much effort she almost thought they were actually having sex. The image made her knees try to close together, his hands shifting to grip under her thighs, forcing them open as he grunted curses in her ear.

Milana couldn’t stop herself from moving, like she was lit with fire for the first time, throwing her arms around Ony’s neck to clutch him closer. “Need me, Mama, don’t you?” Nodding and unable to hide small moans from escaping her, their lips met again, noisy and echoing around the room. She was so damp, Ony was starting to see her show up on his jeans, having to look away before he embarrassed himself in front of this girl.

“Fuck,” He cursed when her nails ran down the nape of his neck, his hips lifting off the couch to put force behind the thrusts he was giving her. Ony’s hands curving down to grip her ass, hissing as her clit caught perfectly over his bulge, pulling her all the way up, up, up, then back down until she felt like she was fraying at the seams. “Stay with me, Baby.” He urged, but her mind was too cloudy to sense that unfamiliar feeling at first, too busy asking the Lord to forgive her for praying to lose her virginity after a first date. Thoughts turning to mush before they could form and soon she found herself stuck in the feeling that she was going to burst.

Then her stomach wound tighter, eyes snapping open in panic as she felt a mix of emotions, wanting to go faster and run away from the feeling all at once. Tingles crawled up her body from her toes, moving with vigor to heighten the pressure as it all rushed to her head. Her hips trying to jump away from his, squealing as she tried to stop her impending orgasm before it made her lose control, hands pressing into his chest to push away.

“Gonna cum, Mama?” Calling Milana back as he forced her to sit flush down on him again. He was asking like he already knew that, and when she tried looking at him through teary eyes she was taken aback at the hungry glint in them. “Yeah, gonna make a fucking mess. Let that shit happen, ‘want you to soak my face after.”

Milana’s mouth dropped open, whining out as she clutched onto him, thrown headfirst into an orgasm she never expected. It felt like free falling right into his waiting arms, where he could bring her more pleasure than she ever thought possible, without even having to touch her. His kisses trailed from her jaw down her neck, toes curling and eyes watering in bliss as she tried to catch her breath. He let her settle slightly, then flipped them both over to lay her on the couch. Her head lying on the armrest as Milana looked at her ceiling, body sagging into the cushions while Ony took her legs and threw them over his shoulders.

“Damn, that was good, Baby. So fucking good. Gonna have you do that on my mouth then around me next, Mama.” He rambled out, planting long appreciative kisses over her inner thighs, getting closer and closer to her covered pussy. His head dipping down to press his lips right against her, surprised at how she shrieked and pushed herself up slightly to see him, eyebrow raising as he stopped to make sure she was alright. To be fair, she didn’t expect them to still keep going, not with how worn out she felt either.

“Uhh… Ony… think I should-probably should tell you some-something…” Her chest was still rising and falling rapidly, whole body thrown off kilter in a sensitive state that had her scrambling while trying to find her bearings. He nodded for her to continue, rubbing circles into her skin when he saw how she was still coming down into reality, thinking she was just a bit delicate in the moment. “I just never- that was my first time so-”

“What?” Ony practically threw himself off of her, legs falling off his body as he moved to sit across from her, a rush of indecipherable emotions written all over him. The sudden loss of touch made her feel a lot more hurt than he intended, but he was honestly so blindsided by her confession that he thought his heart stopped. “Are you saying that you're…” God, it all made sense now, why she was so nervous all the time, shying away from any hint of intimacy, why didn't he see it sooner? “Fuck, Milana.”

His head dropped into his hands, groaning out in an unmistakable tone of frustration as he sobered up, her stomach twisting in a not-so-pleasurable way after that. Once again, her big mouth strikes again, opening it just when things were going so well. Why did she have to stop him, why did that knawing feeling in the back of her mind have to tell her that they might've been moving too fast? Her face dropping with so much disappointment as she tried not to get weepy. “I’m sorry…” Voice tinged with pain as a hand rubbed at the corner of her eyes.

Ony didn't miss the way she sounded, head picking up to jump into action, pulling her back into him, tucked in his side. “Shit-No, Baby. I'm not upset with you. I'm mad at my damn self, should've known better than to be trying to push all up on you like that.” He explained, trying to blanket her with as much comfort as he could, hand a bit frantic as it moved up and down her back. “Fuck, shouldn’t have done that, it wasn't right. I just don't want to take advantage of you, Mama.”

His mind was rushed with guilt, feeling like he just pushed her too hard and definitely way too fast. A bad feeling erupting inside, thinking that he'd been too selfish in the moment, using his second head instead of the one resting on his shoulders. “Don't say that.” She mumbled, her sniffling getting quieter as she saw how upset he was. “I wanted to do that with you, I just didn't think you'd even like me.”

“What?” After all that he thought she'd at least realize he liked her little stubborn behind. “Of course I fucking like you. I don't take girls out and shit, did that ‘cause I want you to be mine.” He admitted it so truthfully, that it shocked her to the core, the revelation swaddling her in the tenderness of his words.

“Really?” Milana felt it, she really did this time. Her eyes were getting watery all over again as it came over her in waves, feeling just as good as his touch was.

“Yes, Milana. I really want you.” Ony felt a rush of relief, his body sagging down to lean against hers too, just needing to hold her for a while. They laid down together, arms wrapping around to hold each other with soothing light touches, side by side facing each other on her little sofa. Her hands sliding to cup his face as he buried his face in her neck, practically laying on top of him to make room, but it was the most comfortable she’d ever been. They would have a lot to talk about soon; her fears, his tough shell, their shared desires, but both were certain that together, it’d be alright.

Hello Everyone! Thank you for being so patient and for supporting my story! I can't believe Milana and Ony already had their first date! It only gets better from here for them, so keep tuning in to read! xoxo - Bow 🎀

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ylangelegy · 8 hours ago

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like real people do ☢️ seungcheol x reader.

little is known about the apocalypse of 2017. a century later, archivists are now unveiling the relics they found from those who lived through that time.

★ seungcheol x reader. ★ word count: 2.1k ★ genre: alternate universe: apocalypse, alternate universe: soulmates (the only way for your scars to disappear is when your soulmate kisses them goodbye), angst, romance. ★ warnings: major character death. depictions of death/violence, injuries/scars. established relationship; suggestive scenes but no real smut. set in a fictional apocalyptic world. doubling down on the angst warning; i cannot say with any certainty that this is a happy ending. ★ footnotes: this is part of my follower milestone event. viv gave me an inch (a request for angsty seungcheol) and, in turn, i am giving her a mile (a whole thing instead of just a ficlet). mahal kita, @heartepub! this will be the last hozier brainrot i offer you— for now. + much thanks to @gyubakeries and @tusswrites for beta reading! love you both to the end of the world. ❤️‍🩹

↻ ◁ || ▷ ↺ like real people do by hozier. apocalypse by cigarettes after sex. i know the end by phoebe bridgers. fourth of july by sufjan stevens. interlude: i’m not angry anymore by paramore. atlantis by seafret. end of beginning by djo. nobody’s soldier by hozier.

When the fish started dying, you did not think: This is how the world will end.

Why would you? The decimation of marine mammals and seabirds didn’t make the news. The misguided scientific breakthrough that triggered everything was kept under wraps.

It isn’t until much later, until the damage is irreparable and the Rapture is imminent, that you will realize it.

The world as you know it is ending— but at least you have Seungcheol.

There’s some cruelty in the timing of it all. The two of you had just moved in with each other, coasting on the honeymoon phase of a long-term couple with a new thing to share. The paint on your apartment’s walls had yet to dry when the government declared a state of national emergency.

Dozens of other countries followed suit not long after, all blaming one thing or the other. Food crises. Social unrest. Cultural collapse.

“This is crazy,” Seungcheol grumbles.

The television is playing clips of a hurricane tearing through the Philippines. Extreme weather conditions, the reporters are saying. Due to the rise of CO₂ levels.

You and Seungcheol are sprawled out on the floor, watching it unfold. The furniture store meant to deliver your couch has delayed shipment until further notice.

Seungcheol has always been the sulky type, though the expression on his face nowadays has been less of his trademark pout and more of a serious frown. You can feel his growing agitation in the stiff way he holds you, in the set of his eyebrows.

“It’s crazy,” you agree quietly, resting your hand on his knee in a bid to calm him a bit. “But it’ll pass.”

Your touch seems to give some sort of reprieve. He rolls his shoulders. He unclenches his jaw.

“It’ll pass,” he echoes, reaching out to intertwine your fingers.

Neither of you knew just how wrong you could be.

April 8, 2017

Weird times. Cheol knows just how anxious I get when I’m cooped up, so he encouraged me to pick up journaling. I’m not sure how much this will help, but it’s worth a try.

It’s been a month since everything has essentially gone on ‘lockdown’. The news says that all of this started because researchers wanted to regulate harmful algae. Their genetically engineered virus ended up infecting all algae, and now the majority of phytoplankton are just... dead.

I don’t know what to write about. Terrible oxygen levels? Seafood costing a fortune? This ‘work from home’ system everyone is trying to figure out?

I guess I should just write about the good stuff. That way, when I look back on these entries, I can remember something good.

Today, Cheol tried to fix a leaking faucet himself instead of calling for a plumber. We flooded the kitchen floor, and ended up wet from head to toe.

I cooked pasta, called mom and dad on Skype, and watched the latest episode of Santa Clarita Diet.

Once everything opens up again, Cheol and I have to visit my parents. (And ‘get better screwdrivers’, he claims.)

When Seungcheol first kissed you, you did not think: This man is my soulmate.

It had been a clumsy, shy thing, traded way back when the two of you were high schoolers still stealing away from your eagle-eyed parents. Seungcheol liked to wax poetics about how it was perfect even though you know that first kiss was more a clash of teeth than anything.

You don’t discover the truth of everything until a couple of years into dating. Seungcheol had gotten into playing basketball, and, one evening, you absentmindedly pressed your lips to a scar he had at the bend of his elbow.

The mark smoothed out instantly.

Seungcheol had giggled at the development before spending the rest of the night kissing every inch of your skin that he could reach— injured or not. You still think it’s one of your best memories as a couple.

Kisses that healed scars. You hadn’t believed in the stories yourself until it had happened to you, until you realized how fortunate you were that your soulmate wasn’t halfway across the world or something. No, you had your soulmate, and he was more than willing to kiss away all your wounds.

You had counted yourself as lucky. You still think you are, even now, as Seungcheol strokes your hair and holds you to his chest in the pitch black darkness of your apartment.

His voice is quiet and small when he speaks up. “I’m sorry.”

“What for?” you mutter back.

“I’m sure this isn’t what you imagined,” he says. “For us moving in together and everything.”

An amused snort escapes you. Of course that would be your boyfriend’s concern. There’s the rotational power outages and the merciless prices of goods due to inflation, but Seungcheol is worried about your expectations not being met.

You shift in his hold. The days have been getting warmer and warmer, and the evenings are no exception. Seungcheol has taken to sleeping shirtless. You’re a couple of celsius away from doing the same.

“It’s not your fault that we decided to move in together for the end times,” you say into the skin of his bare chest.

He gives the small of your back a light thwack. “What have I said about the apocalypse jokes?” he chides lightly.

You roll your eyes. He shouldn’t see it in the darkness, but he knows you all too well. “And don’t roll your eyes at me!”

His reprimand draws a short laugh from you. Even that feels like a monumental effort, like it's a waste of good air.

Seungcheol doesn’t care. He doesn’t care about the two of you waking up in pools of your own sweat, doesn’t care that there are whole government newscasts on how to preserve oxygen in enclosed spaces.

He holds you like a lifeline and kisses you until you’re breathless.

“Cheol,” you whine against his mouth, the protest already at the tip of your tongue. The end is near; sex should be the last thing on your mind.

But then Seungcheol’s fingers toy with the hem of your shirt, and he sounds so, so sweet when he mumbles, “Yes, soulmate?”

That’s always gotten to you.

“Unfair,” you groan as you work on shucking off your own clothes. “You’re so unfair.”

In between giggles, he kisses every part of you. Again, and again, and again.

June 15, 2017

Cheol and I are on the run.

He keeps telling me not to call it that because it supposedly makes us sound like criminals. I think it’s just funny, and God knows I need something to find humor in.

As badly as I want to say “we have gone through worse before,” that would be a lie. We’re out of our apartment and trying to make our way to some place where there’s better air quality. In the meantime, we’re living out of his car. It’s so funny to me that I’ve started laughing until I’m crying.

Anyway, the good stuff: Today’s sunset painted the sky purple. We snagged some still-cold cans of Sprite in an abandoned 7-Eleven. Cheol spotted a family of ducks crossing the road, pointed it out, and said “us, soon!”

Us, soon. It feels dangerous to hope, but that’s all I seem to do nowadays. That and being on the run. (Cheol made me strike out that last part, but whatever.)

When Seungcheol finally admits to you that he is scared, you did not think: This means that things are much, much worse than I thought.

Maybe because there were bigger concerns, like the car’s blinking fuel warning light and the scratches littering Seungcheol’s arms. Like the fool that he was, he had gone against your well-meaning advice to not look for help.

He did not return unscathed.

Your lips are pursed in a thin line as you rip open a Band-Aid. It’s one of the few that the two of you have left, and Seungcheol seems to remember the fact. He reaches out to stop you.

“Hey, c’mon,” he urges, obviously trying to aim for levity. “You know there’s other ways we can fix me up, right?”

The frown that tugs at your lips shows that you’re still less-than-pleased at his little stunt.

“Maybe if you didn’t head out in the first place,” you grumble. “We wouldn’t need any of this.”

Seungcheol looks like he might push back, but seems to decide against it at the last minute. Instead, he wraps his fingers around your wrist and gives you a gentle tug.

“It won’t happen again.” His tone is edged with remorse, enough to almost convince you. Almost.

“No more playing hero?” you ask.

A corner of his lip twitches upward. “No more playing hero,” he concedes before tugging at you again.

You let him. You move closer into his space until you’re practically in his lap, until you’ve got a better view of the angry red cuts on his skin.

Tentatively, you press chaste kisses to the injuries. Seungcheol’s hands find purchase at your waist and he tilts his head back, letting you work your magic. He’s quiet as your lips trace over each gash and wound, as you take away all the hurt with the ghost of a kiss.

After a moment, he mumbles, “Is it bad that I want you right now?”

“Seungcheol.”

“Okay, okay.” A beat. “I want you all the time, actually.”

“Shut up!”

The sound of his laughter fills the car. It’s enough to have you forgetting his murmured confession of fear, the vulnerability that he had tried so quickly to cover up with affection. For a moment, there is nothing else in the world except this, except you, except him.

September 23, 2017

Is it weird to say that I’m starting to forget what it was like before all of this happened? Cheol is trying to assure me that it’s to be expected, that we’ll all be back to ‘normal’ soon, but I don’t even remember what normal is like anymore.

I can’t forget. I don’t want to forget. And so here is a small list of things I took for granted:

The first breeze that tells you winter is coming

The kindness of people who don’t know you

The smallest fish in the sea

Date nights with Cheol

Clean water

Breakfast

My parents

Cheol says there might be some biodomes ahead. Oxygen-regulated habitats. It sounds like something only the rich can afford. We don’t have a lot left between the two of us, and it’s getting harder to jump from building to building.

But there’s something waiting for us on the other side— right? There has to be.

May the best of my todays be the worst of my tomorrows.

When the gunshot rang out, you did not think: This is it.

Seungcheol never gave you any reason to think that way. He had held your hand as you raided rundown grocery stores. He had positioned himself in front of you when there were stampedes. The world might have been ending, but he was with you.

He was with you even when the strangers you ran into started getting more aggressive. He was with you even when fights would break out over necessities like water and medicine.

“People are dangerous when they're desperate,” he’d tell you softly— still his rational, kind self even when faced with the worst of mankind.

He was with you. He was kind. He was yours.

Even when the bullet lodged itself right between his ribs.

There is not much that you remember after that.

The people dispersed. The cause of the fight— a can of chicken noodle soup, once your comfort food— lay forgotten on the floor.

The love of your life, staring unblinking at the sky.

When you sink to the ground, you’re moving purely on instinct. Your quivering lips press over his chest, over the red blossoming and staining his shirt.

You kiss him. Again.

And again.

December 1, 2017

The kisses don’t work on bullet wounds.

▸ Archivist’s note: The following entries are undated and some portions had been redacted/deemed untranscribable. We are led to believe that the author struggled to cope in the aftermath of their soulmate’s death. For posterity, we have still reprinted their final entries.

You’re so unfair.

I still want you.

Things I took for granted: ███████, you, ███████, youyouyou.

What now?

My love, it’s only a matter of ███████—

▸ Archivist’s note: Nothing follows.

This concludes our transcribed logs. The full collection can be viewed at the National Museum of Remembrance.

It is our deepest regret that the author is unnamed and that they cannot be properly credited. However, we know of two things with certainty.

We know of a man named Seungcheol, and we know that he was loved.

#seungcheol x reader #scoups x reader #seungcheol angst #svt x reader #seventeen x reader #svt angst #seventeen angst #seungcheol drabble #( last of my cheol writing for now. i swear )#( but viv gave me this prompt and i just kinda blacked out like ????? Ahahahaha .Whatttt )#( this could have been much longer but im conked out and there is only so much emotion i can manage *shakes fist* )#( ANGST I MISS YOU )

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