#this was meant to be something short 😓

[wolviesdoll]

jason todd hcs & thoughts ... 𝜗𝜚

⤷ craves intimacy in the gentlest way possible. lingering touches and soft fingers running through his hair, innocent kisses peppering his face and the scars that littered his skin. he's so used to the harsh ruthlessness of his life, all he needs is a warm pair of open arms to collapse into at the end of the day. all he needs is what he's never had.

⤷ loves romance/romcoms. a feeling of longing sits heavy on his chest the entirety of the film, but it's a reminder that he's capable of feeling more than than the unexplainable anger running through his veins. watching romantic movies lets his mind escape temporarily.

⤷ yearns to be loved so wholeheartedly. despite all the bad, all the rough and difficult parts of himself, all the blood he's spilled that just won't wash off his hands, he wants someone who loves him regardless.

⤷ at the same time, he believes he's hard to love. how could anyone love all of him? he can be brash and hard to deal with, he's quiet and has a bad habit of pulling away. he's afraid to get attached and crack his ribs open to reveal his heart to anyone, but deep down he wants that one person who can reduce him to such a lovestruck fool.

⤷ once he's found someone, he gets clingy. it's a difficult balance to maintain; fighting his instinct to be unreasonably needy while making sure his partner didn't feel suffocated by his affection. he finds a way, though. he's clingy in the way he's always on the cusp of begging for cuddles and kisses. he never will, not obviously, but it's clear he's thinking about giving up his pride when his green eyes shine with a quiet plea and his plush lips pull into the subtlest of frowns. he's clingy because he's afraid to lose the one person who sees all of him and loves it all.

⤷ maybe a consequence of his fear of abandonment, he is also fiercely protective. never in the controlling sense. he'll never tell his partner what to wear or when they can or can't go out — he trusts them. but he will he by their side the entire time, like a mean guard dog that growls at possible danger. except in this case, jason uses his strong, tall and imposing figure to scare off any poor souls who think they could approach his partner. they're his just as much as he's hopelessly theirs.

quick hcs :

྾ creates playlists for his partner and listens to it whenever he's away and misses them.

྾ really playful. the type to be left on delivered for a second and respond with "so you hate me". he's playfully dramatic and teasing, there's never a dull moment with him.

྾ has a polaroid picture of his partner in his wallet. if he looses his wallet the first thing he worries about is that picture. not his id or credit cards, no, the picture. speaking of pictures, his camera roll is full of his partner. most are candid pictures/videos he took sneakily when he was just enamored by their appearance. others were a little sillier, "unflattering" as his partner says, but he vehemently disagrees. some are a little filthy, but he keeps those hidden.

྾ switches shoes if his partner's feet hurt after wearing heels for a night out. no complaint from him except a smug "i told you so" when he warned them prior to leaving home. he'd walk around in just his socks before his partner took another step in their painful heels.

྾ carved his partner's initial on the barrel of one of his guns. his good luck charm.

[ssahotchnerr]

a bit late but i have a request for protective aaron 😓😓 reader and hotch having a date night and they run into someone who claims to be from the fbi like that one guy who prentiss garcia and jj came across?? maybe they play along for while? i love ur writing btw 💕💕 and congrats on 5k!!

brad's back

let's pretend this hasn't been in my drafts for ages, and what if it is the same guy they came across 🤭 cw; jealous!aaron, bau fem!reader, bar setting, light drinking mentions, suggestiveness, brad LOL wc; 1.2k

Saturday night. Date night.

Aaron and yourself had already finished dinner, and had stopped at a nearby bar for a drink or two before heading home. Jack was at Jessica's for the night, having fun of his own at a sleepover with his cousins.

That meant a wonderfully empty apartment was waiting for you, and all of its advantages.

You were giddy with impatience, eager to head out. As you waited for Aaron to return - he had run to the men's room - out of your peripheral you sensed someone lingering, just a few feet away from where you were sat.

You turned your head, subtly brushing your fingers through your hair so your glance didn't seem purposeful. It was a man in a suit, hair swept cleanly, looking greatly out of place in the casualness of the bar.

But your discreet attempt at observing did go noticed; the man took it as a plausible excuse to approach you.

"You should be careful."

Your eyebrows quirked quizzically, evaluating whether or not his statement was a threat or hopeful flirting. "How so?"

"Saturday night. It's getting late. We're in a high crime area."

You widened your eyes in feigned surprise, "Are we?"

No, you were not.

You quickly deemed him harmless, for now. And while you waited, why not play into it; he obviously had some story going, without a doubt a highly entertaining one at that. Not only, with Aaron due back in a few short minutes, you wouldn't mind seeing his protective side in the slightest.

"But lucky for you, I'm around. I just so happen to be a part of the FBI."

"Really." Your chin pointed downwards, not wasting a second to rack through your brain. He didn't look familiar, and you were quite good at remembering faces. You definitely hadn't come across this man before in practice.

When nothing unveiled, "I didn't catch your name."

"Brad."

Holy shit. You've heard the infamous Brad story from the girls, numerous times, and this had to be him. It had to; he was just as they described: vain, a bit gawky. You quickly stifled the laugh that wanted to burst through your chest. It's been months since, and evidently he was still using the same pickup.

"Brad the FBI agent." You nodded slowly, toying with your drink, fingers on the rim. "That's quite the title. What department are you in?"

"That's classified," he answered, leaning against the counter on an elbow. "I'm afraid I can't tell you that."

"I see..."

Your eyes shot to the side as Aaron approached, landing on him just in time to see him stop in his tracks. As expected, a scowl deepened on his face as he saw Brad talking to you, also taking notice of his close, flirtatious proximity. His feet began moving once again, more urgency in his step.

"You must know Aaron then." You gushed, grabbing onto Aaron's arm and drawing him close as soon as he was in reach, and before he could ruthlessly interrogate Brad. Aaron lightly stumbled in surprise at the sudden pull.

Brad blanched, "I, urm-"

"Aaron," you grinned, "this is Brad."

Aaron shot you a look, one that read: 'And why the hell would I care?' but as he gave you said look, he immediately eyed the mischievous, fiery glint in your eyes. You were up to something.

The tension lessened in Aaron (barely), offering a rather stiff, "Hello."

"Brad," you turned, your hand clutching onto Aaron's bicep, your thumb grazing it calmly. "Aaron's in the FBI too."

Aaron's shoulders relaxed, probably coming to the same realization; he's heard the story also, as Penelope all but sprinted into the bullpen to share the hilarious encounter.

"No, I don't believe we have met." He activated his Hotch Stare, "What department are you-"

"Oh, he can't say. Classified." You interrupted, lips developing into a pout. "Strange, isn't it?"

While Aaron's notorious expression was enough to make Brad squirm, he also put an arm around you, keeping you close. Very close, your shoulder was practically digging into his chest.

Brad forced a laugh, his voice painfully strained. "Actually, it's uh... the big one. In DC."

"The big one." Aaron deadpanned, his brows furrowing more into a hardened line above his eyes. "You mean the J. Edgar Hoover Building?"

"Yes sir, that one." He rushed out, his gaze darting to the side. Probably looking for a quick escape.

"And your speciality?"

A dreadfully, humorously weak answer, "Crime."

"Crime." Aaron repeated, with an undertone of idiot.

"Modern day hero, clearly." You inputted. Aaron's lips twitched, holding back a smile.

"Your Superior is?"

"Superior... you see, I really can't stay. My boss wouldn't be too happy with me giving out the details."

"And you are aware that impersonation can be charged as a criminal offense," Aaron laid it on thick, his tone nothing less than strictly authoritative. "Aren't you?"

Brad opened his mouth to respond. Much to his avail, only silence came out.

"If I were you, I would try to find a better use of your time than using a forged title to pick up women. Perhaps being yourself may work? Although, I believe that needs extensive work as well."

Humiliation glassed over Brad's eyes, a blush rising to his cheeks. He turned on his heel, retreating.

"One more thing."

Your heart skipped a beat. From Aaron's tone of voice, the protectiveness you had anticipated - deep emphasis was about to come to the surface.

"I'm not the only one in the FBI." He spoke with pride in his chest, cocking his head towards you. Aaron's lips also quipped into a smile, whereas a smug look was on your face. "She's more than capable to take care of herself. And if for some reason she couldn't, that's where I come in."

Brad merely stood there, helplessly. From the irritation present on his face, he was completely over it.

"Have a good night."

"That was something, wasn't it?" You stated humorously once Brad was out of earshot.

Aaron snorted a laugh into his drink. "I'll say."

"I wonder how often it's worked." You thought aloud, feeling for those who had unknowingly fallen for it.

"Not enough if he's still using it as a ruse."

"It's kinda sad." While it was well deserved, long overdue and hopefully ceased any future endeavors of his, you still couldn't help but feel bad. Partially bad.

"It is, but he doesn't deserve your pity sweetheart." Aaron's hand fell atop yours, giving your knuckles a gentle pat. "Ready to head out?"

You nodded yes, "I've been ready."

After tossing some bills on the counter, Aaron properly grabbed your hand this time. The two of you headed for the exit, Aaron's hold on your hand tightening - to not lose you amidst the crowd, or for anyone else to make a pass at you.

"Is this the part where I say I can show you what a real FBI agent can do?" Aaron teased, a delightful little smirk on his face as he opened the door.

You laughed. "Whatever makes you happy. And benefits me."

[orimuraa]

𓏲 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖ Sorry, I love you - OT7

꒰ 𝔖𝘺𝘯𝘰𝘱𝘴𝘪𝘴 ꒱┆enhypen after an argument ⨾

۶ৎ ot7!enhypen x fem!reader ┆angst, a bit of fluff┆mentions of arguing, petnames, kisses, crying┆ wc 958

⤷ 𝐲𝐞𝐣𝐢’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: hellooo! im back from the dead once again..sorry ive been so inactive 😓 school is really busy lately but i promise to be more active! please reblog if you enjoyed ^^

꒰ঌ ℬℴℴ𝓀𝓈𝒽ℯ𝓁𝒻 ໒꒱

𝑳𝒆𝒆 𝑯𝒆𝒆𝒔𝒆𝒖𝒏𝒈 - 이희승

after the two of you said your peace, you went separate ways to just have time to think. you and heeseung rarely got into arguments, so it hurt a lot when you did. “baby?” a small voice came from behind the door as you hesitantly walked to the door. opening it, you saw your boyfriend, his big bambi eyes looking up at you apologetically. “oh baby i’m so sorry, i never meant to lash out at you,” he sighs, pulling you into a soft embrace at the sight of your red and puffy eyes. he knows that after arguments, it’s always best to just hold one another and talk through it. he loved you so much, he just couldn’t risk ever losing you.

𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒌 𝑱𝒐𝒏𝒈𝒔𝒆𝒐𝒏𝒈 - 박종성

the moment jay's hurtful words slip past his lips, he's all over you, apologizing, kissing you, telling you how he never meant it. you know he didn't mean it and you know it was a mistake. but the words hurt. an argument that got out of hand and now jay was at your feet, profusely apologizing to you. you pull him up and into a tight hug, whispering into his chest that you know he didn't mean it and how you aren't mad. "princess, i love you so much. you're too good to me," he says, kissing the crown of your head and whispering sweet words of affirmation to make up for his cruel ones.

𝑺𝒊𝒎 𝑱𝒂𝒆𝒚𝒖𝒏 - 심재윤

it was late and jake had just gotten home from practice. one small sentence threw him off and lead to a stupid argument. the two of you were tired and in dire need of sleep, so the words being thrown around didn't entirely make sense. it ended up that jake needed some time to calm down and shower, while you took some time to also calm down in the living room. "sweets? i'm so sorry i said all those things, you know i didn't mean a single word. i'm just so tired and exhausted.." jake says, sitting down next to you on the sofa. no more words needed to be exchanged as the two of you held each other close, small "i love you"s coming from one another.

𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒌 𝑺𝒖𝒏𝒈𝒉𝒐𝒐𝒏 - 박성훈

the words kept on replaying in your head as you sat alone in your bedroom, replaying the argument you had with sunghoon. it was something stupid that quickly escalated and ended with cruel words spewing out of sunghoon's mouth. you knew he didn't mean a single thing he had said but you still wanted him to explain himself. you both agreed that it would be best to calm down before talking again, so that's what you did. now, as sunghoon sat next to you, you saw him fiddling with his fingers, nervously looking down. "i'm sorry. i'm so sorry my angel," he struggled to say, but it was enough. even though it was short, it had so much raw emotion to it and you knew he meant it. sunghoon was never good with words so this was enough. you pulled him in for a sweet kiss, no words needed, just the comfort from each other.

𝑲𝒊𝒎 𝑺𝒖𝒏𝒐𝒐 - 김선우

sunoo and you rarely got into arguments, both of you opting to try and talk out your issues than continuously yell at each other. but sunoo had just come back from a hard day and he was easily agitated. he snapped at you, but the moment he did, he realized his mistake and rushed over to you, telling you that he was so sorry and he never meant to. yes it did surprise you that sunoo raised his voice that much at you, but you weren't mad. it hurt a bit yes, but you tried to realized that he must've really struggled earlier today. "just don't do it again sun. i'm not mad," you reassure him once the two of you have calmed down and now cuddled together on the bed. "i don't deserve you," he whispers, kissing your shoulders and pulling you in closer.

𝒀𝒂𝒏𝒈 𝑱𝒖𝒏𝒈𝒘𝒐𝒏 - 양정원

when you and jungwon got into arguments, it always ended with the two of you laying together on the bed and talking it out gently. jungwon hated having to raise his voice at you and never meant the cruel words that accidentally slipped from his lips. he always apologized with sweet words of affection after you both calmed down and were ready to talk to one another. if it ever got really bad to the point where you cried, he would spend the whole day holding you and beating himself up for making you cry. he never wanted to hurt you and he would cover you in kisses to make up for it. despite your clashing opinions, during the aftermath of the argument, you would always hear the other person out and let all the thoughts out, wanting to end the argument. he loved you so much and he hated arguing with you, so he always tried to keep the peace as much as possible.

𝑵𝒊𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒎𝒖𝒓𝒂 𝑹𝒊𝒌𝒊 - ���村 力

riki rarely got pissed at you, but there were times where the two of you would argue and since he always had a strong opinion, it was hard for him to back down. with the members, he was hot-headed during arguments, but with you, he always tried to calm down and hear you out. he didn't like fighting with you and he especially didn't like it when the fights got out of hand and tears would drip down your pretty face. he would immediately apologize, kissing away you tears and whispering apologies to you, calming the both of you down. once you and him were okay again, you would apologize and the two of you would spend the rest of the day cuddling and just clinging together.

𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬: @en-diaries, @k-films, @k-nets

⚘. Perm taglist: @vmpivory, @yuvany, @seozii, @pinknjm, @greentulip, @jomisu, @nxzz-skz, @ancnymcnzjy

[gh0stly-mp3]

ego destruction

sae x gn!reader -> +18

synopsis: sae has been treating you badly, so you decide its time for you to teach him a lesson

warnings: mdni, nsfw, sexual content, mature language, begging, metaphorical degradation?, punishment?, might have grammatical errors

tags: bottom!sae x top!reader, no genitalia mention, not too explicit, sae being sae

a/n: my first time doing nsfw, forgive me if its bad 😓

There was Sae, sitting on the edge of the couch, scrolling through his phone with an impatient flick of his wrist. You, perched on the opposite side of the couch, observed him, your jaw clenching. It had been weeks of this – the short and dry answers, the constant air of superiority.

You were both working on a new project for your house backyard, something that had turn into a frustrating dance of Sae’s dismissive nature. He treated you more like an underling than an equal, his words sharp and clipped, making you feel like you were constantly walking on eggshells.

Tonight, something snapped. You had spent hours perfecting a piece of the project, pouring your heart into it, only for Sae to glance at it dismissively and declare it “ugly.” No explanation, no constructive criticism, just a flat-out rejection that had your blood boiling.

You stood up, the movement sudden enough to make Sae briefly look up from his phone, his brow furrowing slightly. - "Do you need something?" - He asked, his tone dripping with the air of someone interrupted in the middle of something important.

"Yes, Sae," - You responded, your voice low and dangerously calm. - "I need you to stop acting like an arrogant bitch."

Sae’s eyes widened for a fraction of a second, the shock quickly replaced by a mask of icy displeasure. - “Excuse me?” - He said.

You walked towards him, and when you reached him, you didn't stop, instead, you pulled him up so abruptly that he stumbled, his phone falling to the floor with a soft thud. His eyes blazed with anger, but you didn't give him time to speak.

They pushed him backwards, forcing him onto the couch, your knee pinning him down. Sae gasped, not in fear, but in furious disbelief. - "What do you think you're doing?" - He growled, his fingers clenching on your arm.

You ignored him. Leaned down, your breath ghosting across his cheek, eyes locked on his. - "You've been treating me like shit, Sae." - You whispered, the soft tone a contrast to the violence of your actions. - "I'm done with it."

You put his hands on top of his head, and with a swift movement, began undoing his belt. Sae’s eyes were wide now, the anger slowly morphing into an unnerving mix of shock and something else...

You peeled his trousers down, your gaze never leaving his eyes. The air in the living room crackled with tension, the silence broken only by your ragged breathing. You didn't need to say anything. Sae understood. He understood with a visceral jolt, the way you meant to take him apart, piece by piece, until nothing remained of his carefully constructed ego.

And then, you were inside him, pushing deep, the initial shock giving way to a building wave of raw, primal sensation. Sae’s hand gripped your shoulder, knuckles white. He fought back, wanting to assert control, to reclaim the dominant position, but you didn't let him.

He started panting, the sounds escaping his throat. He tried to deny what was happening, tried to push them away, but there was a weakness growing within him, a surrender he desperately fought against. He was loving it.

You pushed further, forcing him to acknowledge that, at that moment, you were the one in control, and he felt vulnerable beacause of it. His grip on your shoulder loosened, his head falling back, his lips parted in a moan. The words he'd never say, the admissions he was so stubbornly withholding, were forced out of him with every breath.

"Please... please…" he begged, his voice rough and broken, the arrogance gone replaced by a desperate pleading. His eyes, usually so cold and distant, were wide with a mixture of shock and pleasure. "Don’t…don’t stop. Please…"

You broke him, his ego was shattered, the carefully constructed wall around his heart crumbled. Underneath his hard exterior, there was need, a raw desperation that he couldn’t hide anymore.

You continued, penetrating him relentlessly, your eyes admiring Sae’s face, watching as every layer of his pride was stripped away, leaving behind a vulnerable man. And as you two reached your climaxes, you couldn't help but feel a sense of wicked satisfaction.

The cold, arrogant man was gone, replaced by a broken, pleading mess. It was only then that you understood: Sae’s pride wasn't just a shield; it was a challenge. And you had just won.

[inkzectz]

in your Bigger than the sky animation benrey starts out as barney? that seems so interesting lore wise? i would love to hear about what you were thinking when you animated that askdhfjlagh and the sweet voice and dreading stare? no clue what it means but curious as hell

ok im gonna go a little crazy on this because this is my biggest/favorite bc ever.

In the full vods they refer to benrey as “Barney” for the first while, it’s kind of unclear why, from Wayne’s perspective it seems he just didn’t know his name and defaulted to the character models name, and gir and Holly said they thought the joke with benrey was he was Barney but wrong, and they kept calling him the wrong name, so bipple, booper, Bentley, but eventually benrey, the name said by scorpy, stuck.

All this to say, it’s a BIG hc of mine that he was intended to be Barney (in universe) but due to being self aware was able to break off from this character he was meant to be. it’s kind of implied within the series they all have fake memories of who they are, being AI they are supposed to sort of act a certain way to maintain the immersion but at the end of the day, nothing before the game booted up really happened.

And benrey knows this, benrey knew from the beginning nothing was real, that he wasn’t human, how it ends, that no one actually dies, the works. I also headcanon that he became self aware during the AI model training stages, that the guy in charge of training his AI as Barney, broke him causing his self awareness and he was just launched into the beta game fully aware of the circumstances of his existence. I don’t think he was fully aware of how everything in game worked though.

but this to me is why he seems to constantly be changing his view of Gordon, antagonizing him one moment and then being friendly the next, his feelings about him are complex, he knows from the beginning he isn’t actually Gordon Freeman, but a guy just playing half life. Being a security guard, he’s programmed to protect Gordon with his life, but he knows this. He knows what’s compelling him to care for Gordon isn’t himself but lines of code he’s bound to, and this is why he antagonizes him. But that’s a whole different rant on its own lol

That sequence at the beginning of the bigger than the sky animatic was supposed to be a false memory, something he was supposed to think happened, but the version of Gordon he remembers isn’t real. This idea of ‘Gordon’ is a concept that only exists in these fake memories. (This is also why I think he never calls Gordon by name throughout the series, because he knows it’s not actually him (besides that one time but it doesn’t count bc it was for a bit lalala I can’t hear you))

there wasn’t much thought into the details of that part, like the coughing into the hand with the sweet voice, I really just put that bc I thought it looked dramatic and cool 😓

BUT on the topic of this big ass hc of mine, it actually is super important to a upcoming project im working on, and I realized throughout the story boarding it might need some explanation because it also has a lot of flash backs to some fake memories.

Sorry this got super rant-y I tried to keep it as short and simple as I could, I love hlvrai, I think about it literally every moment of my life and have so many hcs

[psychesalcove]

you have a mythological beauty, you have the eye of someone i have seen.

♡ percy jackson x fem.reader

sypnosis: (college au) as college students, your days were filled to the brim with classes and work to be done. percy, and you still manage to find time for each other, even if it is just a bath.

tw: bathing together but not sexually, not really any plot I just wrote as I went, mentions of getting burned (from a candle), being naked but again not in a sexual way, percys down bad for reader but who's surprised, not proofread.

a/n: guys whosss back!! again, i apologize for not writing for so long, schools just been kicking my butt, as it always does. i really should be writing a research paper rn, but my wanting to write got way to big to ignore, so here we are!! i missed writing for this blog so much, sorry again for going m.i.a 😓

"hey, you." You muttered lightly as you walked into the living room. your online classes for the day—which meant finally being able to come out of your office you had been cooped up in all day. percy looked no less tired than you; he had a half filled out google doc open on his computer, but it looked like he hadn't made another attempt to write for a while.

his head moved at the sound of your voice, getting broken out of whatever trance he was in. "hey yourself," he hummed, hands moving from the keyboard to your arms where he started rubbing up and down. "how was your day?"

you sighed slightly, relishing in the feeling of percys hands on your arms. "same shit as always. our class got a new project, but she hasn't given out our groups yet."

percy winced, his arms coming to a stop so you could rest your hands on his. "im sorry, pretty. hopefully, you'll get a good group," he said, hand leaving its place on your arm to close his laptop. "i don't think thats gonna get done anytime soon," he stated, more to himself than to you.

you tilted your head slightly at that, but percy already responded to the question brewing in your head. "it's not due for another three-ish weeks. I'll get it done before then, promise," he laughed as you smiled at him.

"well," you started. "since it seems both of us are done with work for today, how do you feel about a bath?" you asked, watching percys face light up at the suggestion. you smiled at him again. "you can go start it and i'll make tea for us—i got camomile the other day at the store," you pulled away from percy and headed to the kitchen as you heard his footsteps fade into your bedroom.

—

no sooner had the water started boling on the kettle did you hear the sound of water running from the bathroom. taking a bath together had become something both of you enjoyed doing; it allowed for your minds to process all that had happened throughout the day while enjoying eachothers company at the same time.

you quickly grabbed the two mugs from the counter that now held hot camomile tea and started your walk to the bathroom.

—

percy was sitting on the toilet seat when you walked in, lighter in hand. you raised an eyebrow at him. "what are you doing?" you giggled, setting down the mugs on the counter.

"im trying to light the candle without buring my skin off, thank you very much," he said as he rolled his eyes playfully at you, gesturing aimlessly with the lighter, trying to prove his point.

"here," you hummed, grabbing the candle and lighter from him. percy could usually light candles for the first couple times, but if the wick gets to short for his liking, he ended up burning himself.

"i used the lavender bubble bath, i hope that's okay," he said, grabbing the now lit up candle from you so he could put it on the edge of the tub. you smiled at him, signaling that the lavender sent was fine.

percy stepped into the tub, and it was then that you noticed he had already taken his clothes off. he looked at you expectedly. "you gonna come in?" he prompted, raising his arm out of the water—showing off the bubbles that were already all over him.

"my gods, be patient perce," you joked, already removing your sweatpants and top. "you were in here for longer than me, and be grateful i made you tea," you said as he simply laughed in response. you quickly found yourself in the warmth of the water, now sitting facing percy.

"hi," he giggled, showing you his teeth.

"hi." you replied. the bathroom was casted in a warm glow from the vanilla candle lit, and the light sounds of water rippling only added to the blanket of solace that the bathroom was encased in.

"what are you doing over there still?" he asked, moving his arms under the water so that they now rested on your hips. "i wanna be closer to you," he said in a semi-whiny voice, hands slightly tightening their hold on you.

you giggled and pointed at his face. "i'll cuddle you—if you get the fake mustache off," you said, refering to the bubbles that were on his face; you didn't think he even realized it was there. before he could respond, you moved your hand to softly wipe away the suds of his face, his smile greeting you as you removed your hand.

you sighed and smiled back, moving your body so that you were now in between his legs, your back on his chest and head resting just below his chin. "happy now?" you giggled, feeling his hands come to rest on your stomach.

"very," he sighed, his nose coming down to rest on your head. "i didn't ask earlier," he mumbled into your head before realizing you probably couldn't make out what he was saying. "do you think we could go to that new flower shop this weekend?"

you hummed. "the one on the same street as that good pizza place?" you asked, your hands going to his arms to rub them soothingly; repeating the motion he was doing to you earlier.

"yeah, that one." he mused. "i wanna get mom and you flowers, there were pretty hibiscus flowers i saw," he countined, his thumbs moving in slow circles on your stomach.

you giggled again and moved your head to press a light kiss to his upper arm. "you just got both of us flowers, perce."

you felt him shrug his shoulders behind you. "maybe, but the two prettiest girls always need new flowers," he said so simply, as if he didn't just say the most precious thing you've ever heard.

"oh, and i put your favorite towels in the dryer so i'll go and get them before you get out,"

if your heart didn't explode from the previous statement, than this one most definitely did. you fully turned your body so you were facing him, and then you gently pressed your lips to his.

you pulled back, putting a hand to his chest as he tried to chase your lips. "percy jackson, the man you are," you stated. he simply grinned at you, looking into your eyes with nothing but love and devotion to you.

[m1ckeyb3rry]

Hello,

I have a writing prompt for Michael Kaiser (Blue Lock): Kaiser gets into a pr relationship with an actress and they eventually bond and fall in love.

I think he would have a hard time because of his feelings of worthlessness, but this guy has so much potential, I swear, I love him so much.

If you want to go for a "dark side of Hollywood" type of concept, imagine: a young girl who was raised under the pressure of becoming "the perfect star" and surrounded by the chaos of the industry (Idk, the movie Black Swan comes to mind, or the typical representation of Marilyn's life, something along the lines). I think he could bond with someone who is in a similar mind space as him, but who externalizes it differently, remaining kind and such. He definitely needs someone who is empathetic and can see through his insecurities, and I really like the concept of two characters who are hurt helping each other heal.

If you don't want that much drama, scratch the idea of a hurt oc. Think about someone with an "entrepreneur" mindset: someone ambitious, confident, and level headed, who (again) is empathetic and would call him out and help him grow (I'm thinking about sae, but emotionally competent lol).

You don't really have to go for any of this though, it's just meant to get you inspired to write something for my boy Kaiser. I hope it's not too much. Also, there's no rush at all!!

Thank you in advance. I hope you have a good day 🩷

Synopsis: Michael Kaiser is like a rose, and you are the songbird he cannot bear to lose.

Event Masterlist

Pairing: Kaiser x Reader

Chapter Word Count: 6.8k

Content Warnings: fake dating trope, implied/referenced abuse, call me tabito karasu the way i assassinate kaiser’s character in this, open ending, relationship dynamics many would consider…interesting…

A/N: hiiii anon ty for requesting!! i hope that i wrote kaiser in a somewhat satisfactory way 😫 this is my first time writing for him so idk if i got him right 😓 also i have NO idea why but for some reason i decided to write this in the present tense which i literally have never done?? so if it sounds off that’s why 💔 i’m so sorry i really don’t know what possessed me SKDJFSHKL

Additional: part of my 500 follower event! see the event description and rules to make a request of your own.

It’s hot and like a bruise, your first phone call with Michael Kaiser. He’s that brand of aggravating and just shy of painful to speak with; morbidly, you wish for the conversation to manifest as some kind of actual injury, perhaps on your upper arm, so you can poke at it until it is tender and blooming. But of course, that sort of thing isn’t possible, so you amuse yourself by tapping your fingers against the counter and considering what you might eat for dinner.

“Did you hear me?” he snaps when you do not respond to his proposition immediately. He speaks with an accent, clipped and short, lending severity to his words even when he’s saying nothing of note. “Miss L/N. It’s in both of our best interests to cooperate.”

He’s not wrong about this. It’s the only reason you’ve stayed on the call for as long as you have — it’s in your best interest. It’s the same for him, too, and the thought almost makes you laugh, because who would’ve expected your interests and his to ever align?

“Of course I heard you,” you say, twisting open your bottle of water, taking a sip and idly wondering if he can hear an accent when you speak, too. It’s difficult for you to notice your own, but maybe to him, you sound as odd as he does to you. “You should learn patience, Mr. Kaiser. Such a heavy request you’re making of me, and yet you demand my answer immediately?”

He huffs. “It’s not something you need to dwell on.”

“It might be,” you say, though it’s not at all. Your mind was made up the moment he asked; everything after that has been nothing more than a ploy to irritate him. You’re good at that, at irritating people. Michael Kaiser is not an exception.

“Miss L/N,” he says again, something like a darker version of pleading creeping into his tone. “Your answer. Now.”

“Well, you already knew before you asked, didn’t you? Naturally, I’ll do it,” you say. “It’s a mutually beneficial partnership. Though I expect you to really try your best, Mr. Kaiser, or else it’ll all be for naught.”

“I could say the same to you,” he says.

“Between the two of us, who is the actress?” you say, chuckling when he is silent. “I am sure that I will be convincing. It’s you who I worry for. Hiding your true feelings has never been one of your strengths, has it? Or you wouldn’t be speaking to me at all.”

“Shut up,” he says after a moment has passed. “I doubt your acting skills are anything to brag about.”

“I know you’ve watched my movies,” you say, and when he doesn’t refute this, you beam. “Have you really?”

“Only because someone I know suggested I should,” he says. “If I want to love you, then I have to understand you. That’s what he told me.”

“And what did you think?” you say.

“I thought that I don’t plan to love you at all, and then I told him as much,” he says, the force of his eye roll transmitting even over the phone. You’re not sure if he’s acting deliberately obtuse or if he really thinks you care about this inane conversation he’s describing, but either way you sigh, because his answer is so telling of his personality.

“I was talking about my movies,” you say.

“I don’t prefer the genre,” he says, and then he’s hanging up with a promise to call you later, if he is so inclined. He doesn’t tell you not to call him, but you feel like he implies it, so you vow to set your phone aside and pay him no mind for the rest of your evening.

I’m dating Michael Kaiser, you type in the body of your email to your manager, who you are certain will be so delighted by this news that he will combust spontaneously upon hearing it. You want to type it again, this unbelievable turn of events, so you do. I’m dating Michael Kaiser. Then you delete the repetition, reverting it once again into a formal email, instead of a giddy celebration over an event which should not prompt giddiness or anything resembling it.

It’s a relationship meant to salvage his ruined reputation and boost your career in one fell swoop, and so it’s a relationship that can only work if it’s formed between you two in particular. He, who is a foul-mouthed soccer prodigy, known better for his crass treatment of others than any actual skills he may possess, and you, a rising star who will do anything to be famous and are already of a serviceable status to be seen with him.

Despite your burst of excitement, the prospect of dating Michael Kaiser isn’t actually a thrilling one. The rumors of his horrid demeanor aren’t rumors, and you know this well, albeit through secondhand accounts. Cruelty is the way that he operates, his so-to-speak basal mode, and because it is so intrinsic to his being, you do not fancy that he will deviate from that malicious rule, even for you.

But you are accustomed to a false existence. Donning a facade and masquerading as a person who you are not is the only thing you are good at, are good for, and this time is no different than every other. You will put on the mask of a woman who is loved by Michael Kaiser, who has tamed that mad emperor and turned him into her sweet pet, and you will once again fool the world into believing you.  

He’s doing an interview today. You’re only aware because he texts you right before and tells you to turn on the TV to a channel you’d never choose if you had a say in the matter. But you’re intrigued and he refuses to explain further, so you do as he commands and find yourself watching as he reclines back in a leather armchair and smirks at the host, who’s clearly nervous.

She’s pretty, her hands shaking but her expression serious. You’ve never seen her before, which means she’s new. Of course, that’s not a surprise; only someone very inexperienced or very stupid would invite Michael Kaiser to their show, and she does not seem to be particularly stupid, so her affliction is the first. 

“Um, Mr. Kaiser, it’s a pleasure to have you with us,” she says, like she cannot quite believe that he is actually there, or like she is afraid of what he might take offense at, or some combination of the two.

“It’s a pleasure to be here,” he says, all roguish and self-assured, which is such a contrast to his typically surly demeanor that you have to commend the girl for keeping her composure.

They speak at length about his soccer career, throwing around words you do not understand and do not care to. It’s so boring you almost power down the television and tell him you think as much, but then the girl clears her throat, her face turning a comical shade of red as her fists clench the paper she’s been reading off of.

“This last question is from our viewers, but it’s personal, so if you don’t want to answer, then it’s not a problem,” she says, squirming in her chair, probably hoping he does not humiliate her. It will be bad for her career if he does, even if by now everyone knows what kind of person he is.

“Go on, then. I feel like we’ve built a rapport here, so I don’t mind it as much if it’s from you,” he says. It’s a perfectly packaged sentiment. His PR team must have tortured him into this new persona. You try to imagine it — it’s definitely a humorous thought, picturing the Bastard München representative slamming Michael Kaiser’s face into a bowl of water for every snarky comment he makes. Unrealistic, though. They would never risk compromising his performance like that.

“There’s rumors that you’re seeing Y/N L/N, the actress. A source who claims to be close to you both mentioned it online, and people can’t stop talking about the possibility. Neither you nor Miss L/N have addressed it, though, and our viewers were hoping you might…?” She cringes back, already preparing for one of his tirades, but he only smiles genially and winks at the camera. You remind yourself to tell him later that he’s laying it on too thick, even if you are enjoying this new character that he’s playing up for the sake of it.

“Y/N L/N? I’m shocked that you think I’m handsome enough to date someone like her,” he says. Your phone buzzes — it’s your manager, crowing about how impressed he is with your ‘boyfriend’ and his presence of mind. 

“So it’s a no?” the interviewer says, almost hopefully. He’s mysterious when he shrugs, mysterious and more than a little coy, as if she’s flattering him and he’s too shy to accept the praise.

“If Miss L/N ever deems me to be worthy of her, then it’s a yes in a heartbeat,” he says. It’s an excellent setup for his redemption, and the girl plays into it so beautifully that you tell your manager to send her flowers or some chocolate at the earliest possible opportunity.

“I think that you’ve shown yourself to be an excellent candidate today,” she says.

“Have I? I’ve really been trying to prove myself,” he says. Dreamy sighs ripple through the live studio audience. Someone whistles. It’s all very romantic and fairy-tale-esque, although he is far from being any kind of prince.

“You’re doing great,” the girl assures him. “I’m sure that, if Miss L/N is watching, she’ll have no choice but to be smitten.”

“If she’s watching? Oh, the thought didn’t even cross my mind,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck. You shouldn’t have doubted him and his audacity; he’s fallen into the role as if he were born to play it. “How embarrassing. I’ve just confessed to her on live television without even knowing if she’s interested…”

He’s actually blushing. You are doubly awed — he’s a natural-born talent. It’s a shame that he’s devoted to soccer; he could make it out like a bandit in the acting industry.

“No, no, don’t be embarrassed. How could she ever reject someone like you?” she assures him. How, indeed! At the moment, you are so pleased that you could kiss him. He’s better than any co-star you’ve ever had to work with, in that he is making your job exponentially easier instead of exponentially more difficult.

“If she really is watching, then I can only pray she heard you say that part,” he says, waving in greeting, presumably at you. “Hello, Miss L/N. I really admire you, so if you find me at all agreeable, then I would quite like it if you would say yes to the date I’m going to ask you on.”

He’s made the world swoon and your social media mentions triple. People are begging you to say yes, to give him a chance, to see how he has changed. They want to live through you, and you will let them.

When he calls you, you tell him you were thrilled by his performance. This causes him to shoot back that he finds you insufferable and condescending, to which you say that it’s what makes you and him such a perfect pair. Then you recite an address, and he asks you what you’re going on about. You answer that it is the place where you will have your first date, and then you hang up before he can respond, just so that you can deny him the chance to do it to you first. 

Cameras flash in your faces as you enter the restaurant your manager has booked a reservation at. Michael Kaiser’s arm is wrapped around your waist, and it’s nauseatingly domestic, the kind of scene that would be the cover for one of those coming-of-age movies your agent loves booking for you. You wait for the frantic sound of camera shutters to slow, and then you tug on his sleeve.

“What is it?” he says. It’s quiet enough that no one else can hear, which is why it’s devoid of any warmth, but you are unruffled.

“Your tie,” you say. “It’s not crooked, but we will pretend that it is, and I’ll fix it so that there is something sweet to accompany the tabloid articles that will come out tomorrow.”

Your hands reach for his neck, and he does something you do not comprehend — flinching back, he shakes his head. When he realizes he’s done this, he grits his teeth, like the anger can make up for the temporary weakness. You do not press the issue, merely furrowing your brow and gazing up at him, doing your best to ensure that your eyes remain soft, so that the exchange is not misinterpreted by the parasites around you.

“No,” he says. “Do something else, but leave my tie alone.”

“Alright,” you say. It’s not sensible for you to argue, and anyways it doesn’t matter much what you are doing, as long as you are doing something. Humming to yourself, you adjust the lapels of his jacket. The cameras go off again. You pretend like you do not notice, like the world consists of only you two, and then you interlace your fingers with his, allowing him to drag you into the restaurant behind him.

It’s your turn to be interviewed. You’re wearing a dress, your legs crossed at the ankles — it’s demure and practical and prevents anyone from leering at you, so it’s been a habit of yours for quite a while. The interviewer is female, though, which calms you a bit. She’s older, around your mother’s age, and the wrinkles on her forehead remind you that you should call your parents and arrange for them to meet your doting boyfriend.

“Miss L/N, I can’t begin to tell you how excited I am to finally meet you!” the woman says. You think her name may be Anne, but she hasn’t introduced herself to you yet, so you’re not certain.

“You are too kind. If anything, it’s an honor for me to be here,” you say. The audience really likes that, when you are humble and shy and so darling. It’s palatable and easy for them to digest, or that’s what your manager tells you. 

“Tell us about your upcoming projects,” she says after giving you the appropriate amount of praise for your charming personality.

“I’m currently shooting a new romantic comedy, but I’m afraid it’s all very hush-hush, so I can’t say too much about it. I think you all will really enjoy it, though, and I’m looking forward to the day that we can discuss it at length,” you say. 

The conversation goes on like that for a bit, but you know she’s going through the motions because she has to, not because she wants to. There’s only one question she cares to ask, but if she just talks to you about your boyfriend and not your own accomplishments, then she’ll be blasted online as an anti-feminist. You hear quite frequently that this is akin to suicide in the world of marketing, so you can’t blame her.

That doesn’t stop you from having some fun. When she’s exhausted every possible avenue of questioning you about your future plans and past successes, you make as if you’re going to stand up and leave. Panic leaps across her face, and you snicker.

“We’ve spoken at such length about my acting career. You can’t possibly have any more questions about it, hm? You probably know more than my manager does!” Your attitude is balanced out by the joke. The audience laughs. It’s a fine line that you walk, but if you do not have the chance to act sharper every now and again, you believe you will die — internally if not externally — so you take such risks when you can justify them to yourself.

“You’re dating Michael Kaiser now, aren’t you?” she says. It’s a rancid curiosity she hides with a motherly type of concern. You brush off your legs, recross them, and tuck a piece of hair behind your ear.

“I am,” you say. You don’t have to play the games that he did; you both are established now. Official. A bona-fide couple. Anyways, it’s more appealing if you are outright with it.

“How has that been? You’ve really made a difference in that young man’s life, it seems,” she says.

The best way to lie is to tell the truth. “Yes, I suppose I have, but he has made an equal difference in mine. He is as good for me as I am for him; truly, I never understood what it meant when my parents called each other their ‘better halves’ until we met.”

In an hour, there will be thousands of posts online about this. If Y/N and Michael break up, then I don’t believe in love anymore! Maybe soulmates are real! Couple goals! These are the kinds of captions you are anticipating. The two of you will send screenshots to one another and laugh about how gullible the world is, and then you will strategically plan which comments to like and posts to favorite so that your message goes through. That’s the extent of your relationship with him, really, at least when the two of you are alone. The detachedness makes things much easier than they otherwise would be.

“There’s a popular theory going around that the two of you have had a secret wedding already. Is it true? Am I speaking to Mrs. Kaiser at the moment?” she says, eyes glittering like a vulture’s. She’s ready to pounce on any hesitation, any brief indecision that you might show, but you have spent more time in the spotlight than in your own parents’ home, so you don’t even waver.

“Marriage! I think we’re a bit too early in our relationship to be considering such things, and a bit too early in our lives to be rushing into major decisions like that,” you say. “If and when the time comes, you’ll be the first to know, but it won’t be for a while.”

It won’t be at all, actually. This relationship is not going to last for more than another month. Once the buzz surrounding you two dies, you and he will quietly split. It’ll be as if you never met in the first place.

Your phone rings as you’re leaving the studio. The caller ID says that it is Michael Kaiser, and the thought that he was watching your interview in the same way you watched his makes you feel odd.

“Hello?” you say.

“I’m not gonna marry you. Never-fucking-ever. If you’re expecting a ring, then put it out of your mind.”

“I wasn’t,” you say. “How else would you have liked me to answer that question?”

“Fuck if I know.”

Neither of you hang up on the other — you don’t think you can summon the wherewithal to, which is out of character for him but typical for you — though you both also don’t speak any further. He stays on the line while you drive home, breathing softly like he is sleeping, but you are sure that he is not. The point of it is lost on you, but then you drive into a tunnel and the call ends on its own, so it’s moot anyways. 

Your parents are excited to meet Michael Kaiser. They’ve read up on him extensively, watched all his interviews and even his game highlights. Your mother calls you the night before just so she can gush to you about how handsome he is, how you’ve really done well for yourself this time around. Her approval is nice to have, though superfluous, like a luxury soap or perfume. 

Your father is the one who suggests you all go golfing. You don’t know how to play, and neither does your mother, but you recognize it’s his attempt at connecting with who he thinks is your boyfriend, so you accept. You’re not sure if Michael Kaiser knows how to play golf, or really anything besides soccer, but he is game enough to come that you suppose he must.

It’s warm out, the sun beating down on your father’s brow as he lines up the ball with his club. Michael Kaiser stands on his left, and you think he’s somehow beautiful in this lighting. Not beautiful how your many attractive coworkers are, but in a manner which is distinctly him and therefore utterly irreproducible. His body is lean and graceful, his hair shaggy and gold, though he’s dyed the tips blue in what you’re sure is a statement. The shade matches his eyes, and also the inked roses on his neck. You have long ago come to the conclusion that the flowers are also a part of that same statement, but you have yet to discover what that statement might be. 

“He’s an improvement from that last boyfriend of yours,” your mother says, leaning back so that she can pour the last few drops of soda from her empty can into her throat. You and her are sitting together in the golf cart, seeking refuge in the shade of its plastic roof, sharing the drinks that your father had bought for himself and forgotten about the instant he stepped onto the golf course.

“He is,” you say. That’s not an exaggeration, nor is it something incredible. Your last boyfriend was an old classmate of yours who loved your celebrity more than he loved you. Michael Kaiser doesn’t love you, either, but he is honest about it, and you do not love him back, so there is no resentment between you and him.

“I like the way he looks at you,” your mother says. There’s a hiss as she opens a new can of soda. It’s a vice, but whenever you remind her of it, she dismisses you. She wants to have fun while she’s on this earth, apparently. Maybe drinking five cans of soda in one sitting means her life will be shorter, but life without soda isn’t worth living anyways, or something like that. The reasoning is stupid, but you know she is loyal to it, so you have to accept it. “It’s refreshing. So gentle. You’ll be talking to someone else, and he’ll just be staring at you like he can’t quite believe you’re his.”

“I hadn’t noticed,” you say. 

Your mother is about to say something else, but she is interrupted by a loud whoop. Michael Kaiser has hit a hole-in-one, and before you can tell him to stop embarrassing himself, your father is cheering, throwing his arms around him and calling him son.

“Your father likes him, too,” your mother says. 

“Oh, he needs to stop that! I can’t believe he’s making things so awkward,” you say, getting up to reprimand him before realizing that there is an entirely foreign sheen to Michael Kaiser’s eyes as he rests his chin on your father’s shoulder. He is not quite smiling, but it is a close approximation of the expression, and when your father ruffles his hair and says that it may have been beginner’s luck but he’s proud regardless, the curve of his lips becomes deeper.

You don’t understand, but you don’t need to. You may have facilitated it, but the moment belongs to him, and your presence is as unwanted as it is unnecessary.

You sit back down and take a sip of your mother’s soda. She grins knowingly and says that you look like you are in love, too. You don’t have the heart to tell her the truth, so you hum noncommittally and say that you might be.

You are growing fond of Michael Kaiser. It isn’t a slow realization — actually, it hits you very suddenly one day. He hands you a bouquet of flowers before opening the passenger door of his car for you. You ask him why he’s brought you peonies instead of roses, and he says it’s because he despises roses. It’s such an absurd answer and he says it with such a straight face that you have to cough in order to disguise your choked laughter. 

“Those must be some other kind of flower, then,” you say, pointing at but not touching his tattoos, at the delicate petals which fold over his pulse, azure and bright and silky. 

“No, those are roses,” he says, his knuckles growing white on the steering wheel. Normally, you wouldn’t ask further, but today you want to prod at his bruise of an existence, so you turn the music down and hug the peonies to your chest.

“But you despise roses,” you say.

“It’s a good reminder,” he says. “No flower lies quite as well as a rose does.”

That is when you are certain that you are partial to him. It is an unavoidable fact and also a treacherous one, but true notwithstanding. 

You put the peonies in a vase of water when you get home that night and hope they never die, although you know that they will be gone within the week. It’s how time works. The peonies will die and you two will break up and you’ll have nothing but a bare kitchen counter and thoughts of his intricacies to remember him by. 

There are no paparazzi around on the night when he wraps your hands around his throat. You are alone with him, sequestered away in the living room of his mansion, a bowl of popcorn shoved between the two of you while a movie plays in the background. This seclusion defeats the original purpose of the relationship entirely, but you sense that that original purpose is no longer fully applicable, so you do not refuse when he calls you and demands you come.

There’s a blanket tossed over your legs, the brilliant colors of his soccer club’s emblem faded from repeated washes. It’s warm, and if you were not busily eating most of the popcorn, you’d pull it up around your shoulders. As for Michael Kaiser, he’s facing the screen, his hair tied back in a knot, a pair of glasses resting on the bridge of his nose and reflecting the visage of the lead actress as she laughs. You observe him as you snack. You’ve seen this movie before and didn’t really like it, so you’re not missing much. He’s more interesting by far.

“I know that woman,” you say, so that he has to acknowledge you.

“Hm,” he says.

“She’s a jerk,” you say. 

“Sounds like your kind of company,” he says. You scoff, because he’s not wrong. He keeps watching the movie, and you keep watching him, until a thought occurs to you.

“Can I call you Michael? Even when it’s just us two,” you ask. He purses his lips. The actress screams. Her character has just died, but the scene is poorly shot and even more poorly acted, so it’s not as heart-wrenching as it should be. You would’ve done better, but your agent doesn’t want you taking any gory roles, and your manager agrees. In his professional opinion, it’ll ruin the doll-like persona you’ve spent so long cultivating. He’s probably right. It’s hard to adore a doll once you’ve watched it die so gruesomely.

“You can do whatever you want,” he says.

“Okay,” you say, swallowing another mouthful of popcorn, the salt lingering on your tongue long after the popcorn itself is gone. “Michael.”

“Yes?” he says.

“Nothing,” you say. “I just wanted to say your name.”

“Okay,” he says. “Y/N?”

He’s never called you that in private. Of course, when you’re out and about, he must refer to you with such familiarity, but in private you’ve never been anything but Miss L/N. It’s a change but a good one. You don’t want to ever be Miss L/N again. Not to him.

“Yes?” you say.

“I’m trying to watch this movie,” he says. “It has high ratings, so be quiet and allow me to finish.”

“It’s shitty,” you say, yawning and leaning back against the mountain of pillows you’ve created for yourself. “Overly gratuitous with its use of fake blood.”

“Right, because that’s a cardinal sin,” he says dryly.

“Sorry, but it’s hard to enjoy films when you know how they’re made,” you say. He picks up the remote and pauses the movie. You blink, because that’s about the last thing you expected from him. Then he turns the TV off entirely and you realize you’ll probably never be able to predict what he does next, so you should stop trying already.

“I know how movies are made,” he says.

“Did you have a secret acting career you never told me about?” you say. It’s a joke, but you also wouldn’t be surprised if it’s true. He’s taken to performing like a fish takes to water, and every day you tell him he should quit soccer and devote his life to cinema because of this uncanny skill.

“Not me, but my mother was an actress, and my father was a director,” he says. 

“Was?” you say.

“Maybe they still are,” he says. “I don’t know. We’re not on speaking terms.”

“Why not?” you say. He takes your hands in between his, and you can make out immediately that his instinct is to hurt you, to press his fingertips into your wrists so hard that they leave marks. It’s to his credit that he fights back the urge, fights it back and arranges your palms against his carotid arteries. His jaw clenches and his pupils dilate as he waits for you to realize; when you do, you rip your hands away for fear of wounding him further.

“Don’t pity me,” he instructs you, unpausing the movie like nothing happened. “And don’t ever bring it up again.” 

Now that you have his permission to refer to him only by his name, you develop a strange fascination with saying it. He’s amused by your new fixation, answering you in a lilting tone every time you call for him.

According to him, you are like a small nightingale, always warbling, always happy, fluttering around beside him and changing his mood for the better. Well, if you are like a nightingale, then he is like a dog, and you tell him as much when you are sitting across from him at a coffee shop.

“A dog?” he repeats, his face pinching. He’s just taken a swig of the black coffee he always orders, but you know his disgusted expression isn’t a symptom of the beverage’s bitterness. “Take that back.”

“Not in a bad way,” you say. Your own drink is sweet, so you sip on it slowly to prevent a stomach ache. “I’m not calling you pathetic. I just mean that you are amiable and lively. It’s a compliment.”

“It’s not who I really am,” he says. “Have I deceived even you? Amiable? Lively? Remember why this entire scam began in the first place — because I am neither of those things.”

“Right,” you say. “A peacock, then. Terribly vain and entirely alluring.”

He relaxes and raises his cup to his mouth again. He’ll be up late tonight, he always is when he has coffee, but it never stops him from drinking it. “That’s better.”

The reminder that whatever you have with him is not real stings more than it should. You throw away your drink almost untouched, which does cause him to raise an eyebrow, but thankfully he refrains from commenting. It’s a relief, because you don’t even know how to explain it to yourself, let alone him.

He walks you to your front porch and waits with crossed arms as you fish for the key in your purse, shoving it in the lock once you have it in your grasp. His farewell when you open the door is stilted and abnormal, so you stop him with a hand on his arm before he can go.

“Michael,” you say. You’ve never said his name like this before. It comes from a place raw and deep within you, a place that you are certain is purple and black like a wound. You say it like you love him, and you think it must be because you do.

“Yes?” he says. It’s the way he always responds to you, his voice like a song, a small smile on his ordinarily strict face — though today, he is not smiling. Instead, he is frowning, like he has come to an understanding that he would have rather not reached.

“Never mind,” you say. “Goodbye.”

“Goodbye,” he says. He drives away, his car disappearing around the corner, leaving you standing alone in the still-open doorway and wondering how you will survive the day when he disappears permanently. 

You’re not sure what it is about him that makes pretending difficult, but suddenly, it’s a struggle for you to maintain your aloof front. You find it disconcerting, that he has taken this aspect of your identity and rendered it entirely null and void; it’s even more disconcerting that he has done it unwittingly and unsympathetically. If you loved him any less, you would hate him, because he has stolen who you are and left you blind and fumbling, but you fell for him, and the way you landed broke something fundamental, so that it is impossible for you to get back up. 

“I think that I love you,” you say. You are on his couch again, and there is a movie playing again, which is all too similar to a past scenario that you think about when you are lonely. Tonight, it’s some soccer documentary that you find so tedious you are driven to irrationality. 

He drops the glass of water in his hands; you reach out and catch it before it can spill, setting it on the table in front of you. 

“What?” he says. You shrug.

“I love you,” you say again, and you’re flippant about it because you’re not telling him in the hopes he loves you, too. In fact, you know that he does not, so you are using him as a confessional; after all, the minimum he owes you is sharing the burden of this sin.

“There’s no one around,” he says. “You don’t have to lie. It won’t gain us anything.”

“It hasn’t gained us anything in a long while,” you say. It’s true — your relationship isn’t trending anymore, and most of your dates are in locations where you will not be recognized. 

He stands up. The documentary continues as he paces, and a referee blows a whistle while he tangles his fingers in his hair and pulls. You stay on the couch, your eyes following his erratic movements, your hands folded in your lap.

“No, you don’t,” he says.

“I don’t what?” you say.

“You don’t love me,” he says. He wants to sound callous, you are sure of it, but the effect is lost on you. He sounds more lost than anything.

“But I do,” you respond. “Who are you to tell me I don’t?”

“Don’t,” he says. “Stop it. This instant.”

You laugh incredulously. “Do you think it’s that easy? I wouldn’t feel like this in the first place if it was.”

“Why?” he says. He’s still pacing. It’s like watching a tiger in a zoo. You want to study him, but he demands your attention in a different way. “Y/N. Why me? Why at all?”

“The reasons don’t matter, do they? I can tell you, but they won’t change anything,” you say, shrugging. “If you find yourself in the kitchen, bring water back for me. I’m thirsty.”

“Drink mine,” he says, pointing at the cup you had narrowly saved from disaster. “And quit your avoidance. Tell it to me plainly. Why?”

“Because you are you,” you say once you have drained half of his glass and your tongue is not quite as papery. “It’s a series of things; there’s not just one concrete reason. You hate roses and only drink black coffee. My mother thinks you’re handsome and my father is convinced you’re a golfing genius. You are a dog but also a peacock and then again an emperor. Don’t ask ridiculous questions and expect me to answer them when I cannot.”

“I’ll hurt you,” he says. “I’ll hurt you, Y/N, and I don’t — I don’t want to. You’re the only one who I don’t want to hurt, so just give up. It’s for the better if you do.”

“You won’t,” you say. “I don’t think you can.”

“Of course I can,” he says. “It’s the one thing I’m capable of. The only way I know how to love someone is by hurting them. I’ll do the same to you if you let me, and if you’re telling the truth, then you will let me.”

“Because I love you?” you say. “You think I’ll let you hurt me because I love you? For shame, Michael. I thought you knew me better than that.”

“Please,” he says. It’s a word he’s never said, not to you and not in his life. Its weight hangs before you, pulsating in the air like it’s tangible. “If I love you, I’ll destroy you. And then you’ll leave, and it’ll destroy me.”

It’s a selfless desire that he’s disguising as a selfish one. You’re good at pretending, but you’re not good at telling when others are. That much is obvious, because if you had any talent at the latter then you would’ve seen that he’s loved you for as long as you have loved him, maybe longer. He loves you and so he’s urging you to flee, to destroy him before he can do it to you first.

“Damned if I do and damned if I don’t, huh?” you say, exhaling and finishing off the rest of his water. “Listen to me.”

“No,” he says. His obstinance is endearing, but you throw a pillow at him instead of cooing like you want to. He catches it and tosses it back. It lands beside you with a thump. You pat it for emphasis.

“Yes,” you say. “I love you.”

He plugs his ears with his fingers. “Nope.”

“I love you, I love you — hey, I know you can hear me!” you say.

“La la la,” he shouts over your voice, sticking his tongue out petulantly. “I can’t hear you, I can’t hear you!”

“You’re cruel,” you say. “I won’t deny it. I know who you really are, Michael Kaiser. You possess cruelty in spades, but it’s in the way that a rose does. You have grown malice like thorns so that no one may come near your heart, and you think these thorns will tear me apart when I extend my hand past them. What you aren’t accounting for is that I have done so already. I have reached your heart and still I am intact. Now, what is there to cause me harm — a mere flower? But a flower can’t cause anyone harm, least of all a person such as myself. You can’t, or more importantly you won’t. I believe that you won’t.”

He stares at you. The soccer team in the documentary still playing behind him scores, and the crowd roars in approval. You stare back at him and wait.

“I hate roses,” he finally says. “I hate them a lot. They’re the worst kind of flower.”

“I don’t know about that,” you say. “I quite fancy them.”

“They prick your fingers,” he says.

“Not if you are gentle,” you say. “Not if you understand them.”

He buries his face in his hands. “Go home, Y/N.”

You do as you are told, flagging a taxi and shivering while you wait for it. You wish for things to be different, but the amount of unfulfilled wishes you’ve made outnumber the stars in the sky, so you add this one to the list and vow to move on.

You have no desire to leave your bed the next morning, but you are also hungry, and your hunger wins out over your despair. You muster up the energy to roll out of your sheets and trudge downstairs, but you are miserable as you do so. You are utterly miserable, and the fact that you are only worsens the feeling, trapping you in an endless kind of loop.

When you enter your kitchen, you are surprised to see a pot of flowers sitting innocently on your counter. You didn’t put them there, so you should feel afraid, but they’re roses, and they’re the same arresting shade as the sky, so you don’t. You only grin, slowly and then all at once as you begin to giggle helplessly.

There isn’t a card or an explanation provided, but you don’t need either. You already know who they are from.

[baby--vera]

First taste of Love

alexis ness x reader

☆ミ

navigation • masterlist • bllk masterlist

it's february 14th. a notorious day. valentines day.

this is the first valentines you're spending with ness. you didn't have much planned but hopefully it would be memorable and sweet. and memorable for ness it was.

you woke up in the morning to the light melody of chirping birds and the sunlight peaking through the slightly ajar curtain of your shared bedroom. you sat up while rubbing the sleep out of your eyes and turning to the other side of the bed. your gaze lands on a mop of ashy brown and magenta hair sprawled out on a pillow. ness' breathing was slow and steady, still asleep. a loving smile pulls at your lips, entranced by the sight of your lover.

you slip your way out of the bed quietly without waking ness. your his tshirt falling to circle around your mid thighs as your bare feet make contact with the cool wooden floors, sending a shiver up your nerves. you pad your way out the bedroom and mke your way down to the kitchen.

-

ness is stirred awake by the lurking feeling of your absence beside him in the bed. he blinks his eyes into focus and fixates on the empty area beside him, where your figure would usually reside.

he groans and forces his body up, on a mission to find where you went. why'd you leave him so early alone in a cold bed without the warmth of your body?

ness stands to full height and stretches his tight muscles, feeling the complaint of his muscles from being cramped and curled around your own body the whole night. he lets out a sigh of content as his tendons are no longer taut, and swings the bedroom door open to go seek out your presence.

-

you're leaning over the kitchen corner, scrolling on your phone as the quiet hum of the coffee machine sounds in the kitchen. you suddenly feel a pair of arms wrap around your waist and a familiar scent fills your senses.

"ah! ness, you scared me.." you pouted and leaned into his embrace.

he buries his face into the top of your hair and allows his eyes to flutter close in your presence.

"i woke up and you were missing beside me.." his voice muffled against your hair.

"mm..i'm sorry, i was just gonna make breakfast for us."

he lifts his head slightly and opens his eyes.

"why? you never usually make breakfast?"

"do you not want me to?" you turn around in his hold to face him, resting your hands on his chest.

"ah- you know that's not what i meant.."

you let out a small giggle.

"i know. i'm just teasing you 'lexis."

ness lets out a breath he didn't even know he was holding.

"no but really..why are you cooking?" he tilts his head to the side, kind of resembling cat. cute.

"'lexis..do you know what day it is?"

"..no?"

there was a short pause. you both standing staring at eachother.

"ness. it's valentines day"

ness' eyes widen slightly.

"oh."

your eyebrows furrow slightly.

"what's wrong 'lexis?"

ness diverts his gaze down towards the floor, and you feel his grasp on you tighten slightly, almost unnoticeable.

"nothing..i've just..seen the point in celebrating valentines."

oh. that's why.

of course you knew about ness' childhood, but you never would've thought that he wouldn't see the point in celebrating valetines.

"well, i'm gonna make this the most memorable valentines you'll ever have!" you kept your hopes up, not wanting ness to start the day off upset.

ness leans into your touch, a silent 'okay' from him.

-

and the most memorable valentines, you did.

but in ness' mind. any valentines with you would be the best. even days that weren't deemed a special holiday.

this was so ass and the ending was so rushed😓 i just needed to post something for valentines and bc im always inactive...👀

[alexwritingspot]

okk um instead could you do a percy x fem!reader with prompt 1?? And could you do it so its kinda like they are already in an established relationship and throughout the week he realises that slowly his gf has been a bit more distant and nearly getting hurt in training from being so out of it, and them whilst theyre just hanging out in his cabin he asks her whats wrong n yadyada 😍😍

Sorry if that didnt really make sense but thankyouuuu❤❤

Are you alright?

Your boyfriend gets worried about you after seeing you stress out so much

Prompt 1: “hey, c’mere sit down, tell me what’s going on”

Pairing: Percy Jackson x fem!reader

words count: 1.4k

warnings: slightly mention of injury

A/n: Thank you for requesting! I would like to apologise with all the people who are waiting a fic, but lately I’ve been REALLY busy with school, and writing became impossible. 😓🧡 In these days I’ll try harder to publish as many requests as possible, thank you so much for understanding! 🧡

——————————————————————————

You were on the right front of the river. Dressed up for catch the flag you were ready to give your best. To your misfortune though, your boyfriend, Percy Jackson, had ended up in the other team. Of course, being part of the g/p’s cabin also meant ending up in the red team all the times. But you sticked with that because you couldn’t do much else.

The game started, you had a defensive role in your squad, and you were okay with it. Armour on and senses awake you examined your surroundings in search of any possible ‘enemy’ in the near area. You could hear the sound of words sparring in the distance, and that only alerted you more, they were becoming clearer by the seconds. You took out your weapon, ready to fight. The river was behind you, so it was unlikely someone would try an attack from there. Other than that you were surrounded by trees and vegetation.

A noise coming from a near bush caught your attention, you were ready to defend yourself, and eventually your flag.

But then… a sharp pain had hit your dominant arm, and you let out a groan of pain, finding yourself with a much younger camper of the blue team.

You didn’t loose another moment, you tried to move quickly, to dodge his attacks and try to get him to drop his sword, but it was useless. In the end you had found yourself, butt in the water, and the other camper having surpassed the spot where just a few moments before you both were sparring.

You didn’t even pick up your sword again, you stood there in the water, dumbfounded. How did a younger camper managed to beat you so easily?! You couldn’t believe it. Slowly you pulled yourself out of the water when you heard the horn that indicated the end of the game, your team had lost.

You made your way back to where all the other campers were supposed to reunite at the end of the game. The blue team was cheering and laughing, all of the half-bloods obviously happy of having won the game. Between them stood Percy, still happy, but less thrilled than the others, it wasn’t his first victory, so he didn’t party like the others.

It was then that he noticed you as you walked away to your cabin, quick to avoid his gaze, and when he tried to approach you, you had skillfully managed to avoid him. Saying that he was confused would have been an understatement. Why did you avoid him? And why your back was wet with water? Was that a cut the one he saw on your arm?

The next morning you presented to breakfast in a way more tired demeanour, dark bags under your eyes and sloppy movements. You didn’t even sit at the Poseidon table, which was the standard. Your arm was covered by a short bandage that cover your cut to avoid possible infections.

And then Percy sat by at your table, ignoring the glares your brothers and sisters were giving him “hey” He tried to start a conversation with you “mornin’ ” you simply said, answering back in a dry way, something didn’t feel right.

“Do you want to sit to my table?” He asked again, a slight frown on his face, green eyes holding a spark of worry. You replied dryly again “If you want” and then the two of you got up and sat at the Poseidon table. Percy attempted to make small conversations, but none of it were working, so he decided to try a different approach

“You good?” He asked, and while he was searching for the truth in your eyes you looked for at your food “yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” He sighed “look at me” you were focused on your food “y/n please. Look at me?” You didn’t move your head fully, you just glanced up “I told you, I’m fine” you then stood up and walked away, leaving your plate on the table, your food almost untouched.

the rest of the week went by in a similar way, you acting off of it, and Percy worrying over you more, every day that passed. He found you in the training area, exercising with a mannequin “You need a sparring partner?” He tried, expecting once again a negative response.

Instead you hesitantly looked up and nodded your head “I… yeah, actually yes, it would be helpful” and with that you two started sparring. Percy took a mental note of how much your stance was uncoordinated, which was strange, cause you usually fought very well.

Your feet moved fast, you had only a thought in your mind

I need to win.

you usually weren’t like this, you didn’t care too much if you won or not when you sparred with your boyfriend, but this time it was different. You had to prove yourself that you knew how to fight, how to spare and how to handle a weapon.

It was that taught that distracted you and almost got Riptide stabbed in your stomach. Luckily you had been fast enough to move, and even if you fell to the ground you had avoided the hit of the celestial bronze blade.

Percy let go of his sword immediately and rushes to your side “Are you okay? Did I hurt you?” But you didn’t even hear him, your mind was elsewhere.

you had lost. Again.

And even if you knew that Percy was great with his sword you couldn’t help but- “Y/n!” Percy had you sat to the ground when you came back to reality. He was holding your face and it was crystal clear the distress on his face. “Yeah, yeah sorry, I’m fine, you didn’t hit me”

He insisted to take you to his cabin to actually check he didn’t hurt you, and even if you were hesitant if you should follow him or not, in the end you both ended up in his cabin.

“Are you sure, but like 100% sure that you’re fine? Because these days you are way more absent and you’re spending all your time sparring.” Before you could reply he continued “And honestly, your movements were so uncoordinated before that…” you didn’t hear the rest.

your movements were uncoordinated

that was enough to stop your whole body to move, even breath. Percy noticed. Of course he did. He also tried to get you back to the real world by putting a caring hand over your shoulder. “Hey, c’mere, sit down, tell me what’s going on” and you did. You sat down by your boyfriend’s side and told him about the younger boy that had beat you so easily.

“I can’t even fight! He was like 10 Percy! If I cannot keep up with a 10-years-old then how will I be able to fight monsters? How will I be able to handle quests?” Now there were tears streaming down your cheeks. So that was what you were worried about. Percy pulled you into his arms “shh, please don’t cry, you’re good with fighting, I can assure you” but you didn’t believe him, you just sinked deeper in his chest, burying your face in the crook of his neck.

“Please darling don’t cry, I have proof you’re a good fighter yeah?” He rubbed your back, trying to sooth you, he had no intention to go away until these insecurities of yours would have been solved. “Remember about a month ago, when you made me drop Riptide only 2 minutes into the sparring session?” He began, you weakly nodded your head, hugging him close

“And do you remember about two weeks ago when the mechanical taurus of the Hephaestus cabin who broke, and you stopped them from destroying the dining pavilion?” You looked up at him, still tight in his embrace “but-“ he cut you off “no buts, you are great, you have great skills and you have to believe in them and in yourself, trust me when I say this.”

His words sinked in. He was right, you had amazing skills and you couldn’t let the first person to win over you let you down like that. “I love you Percy” you whispered

“I love you too, with all my heart” he answered, and the two of you fell asleep like that, in each others arms…

——————————————————————————

A/n: hope this was what you were searching for babe! Thank you for requesting 🧡

[graysondarling]

I can ask for something like Luke x reader where during the mission there are many romantic moments.[ In one of those moments Luke wants to buy something for reader with his savings from other missions] ❤️💘 please I just want my addiction.

Luke Castellan. You and I are meant to be

Luke Castellan X gn!reader (no specific godly parent)

Summary: sweet moment with Luke Castellan during a quest

Warning: none! Just fluff<33 this one is very short 😓

A/n: I'M 100% SUPPORTING YOUR ADDICTION, don't forget to tell me what gender you want <3 and also which gods you want to be the godly parent!

i. You're smarter than me and yet you still fell

An unsuspecting rock caught your foot and caused you to stumble. Before embarrassment could set in, a strong hand reached out to steady you. It was Luke Castellan, smirking.

"Smooth move there," he teased, a playful glint in his eyes.

Blushing, you shot him a mock glare. "Thanks for the rescue, Captain Obvious."

Luke chuckled, "Anytime. Wouldn't want my partner to get taken down by a mere rock."

As the laughter died down, Luke extended his hand to help you up.

The contact lingered for longer than necessary, with a gentle warmth passing between you. You couldn't help but smile, grateful for the unexpected help and shared amusement.

"Careful, (name)," Luke grinned, "I'd hate for my heroic moment to go to waste."

ii. I'm sorry for letting you get hurt

Luke gently guided you into the small clearing in the forest, concerned on his face. "Easy there, (name) Let's get you seated."

You winced as you sat in a worn-out chair, the aftermath of the dangerous situation still coursing through your veins.

Luke knelt beside you and retrieved a makeshift first aid kit.

"Okay, deep breaths," he reassured, his fingers deftly working to inspect your injuries.

You couldn't help but chuckle weakly. "I always knew doing a quest with you was a risky business, but I didn't expect to become a demigod pin cushion."

Luke shot you a sympathetic smile, "Well, you can thank the monsters for that. But don't worry, I've got this."

His touch was gentle, and the soft exchange of words set a relaxing rhythm.

"You know," Luke mused, "I didn't sign up to be a nurse, but I guess it comes with the territory of saving demigods."

You smirked, "Who knew being a hero came with perks like this?"

"Better?" he asked, finishing the last bandage.

You nodded, grateful for both his skills and his company. "Much better, thanks to you."

Luke's eyes met yours, a warmth in their depths. "Wouldn't want anything to happen to my favorite quest partner."

A blush crept onto your cheeks, and you playfully nudged him. "Careful, Castellan. You might be getting soft on me."

iii. You said you're not cold and yet you're in my arms

"It's peaceful out here," Luke remarked, his eyes fixed on the stars.

You nodded, "Yeah, a nice break from the chaos. Almost makes you forget we're on a quest."

As the temperature dropped, shivers ran down your spine. Luke noticed and instinctively drew you close. "Getting cold, (Name)?"

You smiled, enjoying the warmth radiating from his presence. "A little. But I can handle it."

Luke raised an eyebrow, "Stubborn as always. Come here." He opened his arms, inviting you into a gentle embrace.

Leaning against him, you felt the comforting heat as he wrapped his jacket around both of you.

"You know," Luke began, his voice soft, "I didn't expect to find moments like these on a quest."

You chuckled, "Well, life's full of surprises, especially when you're in danger most of the time."

His fingers absentmindedly traced patterns on your arm. "True, but I'm not complaining. It's nice to have someone to share these moments with."

"You ever wonder what's out there beyond the stars?" Luke mused.

You followed his gaze, "Sometimes. But right now, I'm just happy to be here with you."

iv. You said you're tired so I let you sleep on my laps

"Sit down for a moment, Luke," you said, finding a comfortable vantage point.

He nodded, grateful for the chance to rest, and settled against a tree. You joined him, the coolness of the night settling around you.

Luke's exhaustion was palpable, his eyes heavy with the weight of the challenges ahead.

"You've been pushing yourself hard," you remarked, concern evident in your voice.

Luke ran a hand through his disheveled hair, a tired smile on his lips. "It's the nature of the quest, (Name). No time for breaks."

You leaned back against the tree, allowing him to rest his head in your lap.

The simple gesture elicited a content sigh from Luke. The soft rustle of leaves and the distant sounds of the camp formed a gentle backdrop as you gently stroked his hair.

"Close your eyes," you suggested, "I'll keep watch for a while."

The quest could wait; the exhaustion in his bones demanded this pause.

You smiled down at him, "Sometimes, all we need is a moment to rest and recharge. We can't save the world if we're running on empty, right?"

Luke chuckled softly, "You're wise beyond your years, (Name)"

Hours passed, and you remained steadfast in your position, unwilling to disturb Luke.

Occasionally, he would shift, seeking a more comfortable position, and you adjusted accordingly.

As dawn approached, the first light of the day painted the sky pink and orange. Luke stirred, blinking his eyes open.

"Thanks, (Name)," he said, his voice carrying a warmth that mirrored the rising sun. "I needed that."

v. You should be glad I'm not stealing it

Luke subtly excused himself, claiming to be scouting the area. Unbeknownst to you, he had another mission in mind.

With a determining glint in his eyes, Luke slipped away. Not so carefully because he keeps accidentally tripping over a rock.

While you and the others were setting up camp, Luke disappeared and made his way to a nearby town.

"I hope I can find something special here" Luke said with a sigh. The market appears to be nothing special - a small rundown market in the middle of nowhere. What did he expect to find there? Nothing.

The distant sounds of your camp echoed in his ears as he entered the quaint marketplace, determined to find the ideal materials for the bracelet.

Luke conversed with the shopkeeper while carefully selecting sparkling beads.

"I need something special, something that reflects the night sky," he explained, his eyes betraying a hidden motive.

The shopkeeper, unaware of the quest taking place in the woods, enthusiastically assisted Luke.

"Ah, a night sky-inspired piece, what an excellent choice! Is it for someone special?" they asked.

Luke, maintaining his secrecy, simply grinned. "You could say that."

Back at camp, you were wondering about Luke's - it had been 30 minutes and you were concerned! "Where's Luke?" you asked the others.

"He said he's scouting deeper into the forest," one of your half-siblings replied with a shrug.

Meanwhile, in the marketplace, Luke happily received the carefully wrapped bracelet from the shopkeeper. "I hope it brings luck to your journey, whoever it's for," the shopkeeper said with a knowing smile.

As he approached the camp, he couldn't help but feel nervous.

When he returned, you greeted him with a curious smile. "Find anything interesting?"

Luke's eyes flickered as he handed you the wrapped package. "Maybe I did," he said, trying to hide the anticipation in his voice.

As you unwrapped the bracelet, Luke couldn't help but catch his breath.

Your face lit up with a genuine smile as the beads glinted in the firelight. "Luke, this is incredible! Where did you find it?"

He chuckled, grateful that his secret mission had been a success. "Just stumbled upon it. Thought it might bring you a bit of luck on our quest."

[crush-itis]

ྀི. ̞. ১ ✿ ㅤ𓈒 crush-itis

ㅤㅤ . ‿‿ ‿‿ ୨ ୧ ‿‿ ‿‿ .

ㅤ. 𓂂 Twisted Wonderland ⊹

💐 it’s almost Valentine’s Day!

✿ ͡ ݂ Epel, Lilia, Ace, Cater

ㅤㅤ. ‿‿ ‿‿ ୨ ୧ ‿‿ ‿‿ .

♥︎： Valentine’s Day special! I selected only a few characters this time because writing all of the students took so long! I hope you guys liked it anyway!… Guys, I actually don’t celebrate Valentine’s Day, so if it sounds like something you wouldn’t do in Valentine’s Day or found it kind of unusual, I apologize 😓😓😓 Anyway, besides that, writing these silly headcanons are kind of fun

♥︎： He’s nervous, but very excited for this day. He even highlighted the holiday on his calendar. He prepared these candy apples for you, carving them into abstract, and cute shapes. He had even written, and made you this childish, but lovely Valentine’s Day card. Inside, there’s the cheesy, infamous pick up line “you’re the apple of my eye” written in cursive, and in bright red ink. Be grateful, because he spent all day crafting it up. At first he’s nervous to give it to you, but he sucked it up, and watched you closely try his candy apples. He’s so proud of them, that he kept on babbling “is it good? Is it good?”—his hidden dialect slipped. Then when he catches his excitement, he’d probably blush in total embarrassment.

♥︎： He’s so experienced with the upcoming holiday. He knows all sorts of things ladies covet for in this romantic occasion. He was originally going to try something new, and cook up his “special” dish for you, but thankfully Silver nagged him enough not to. So he bought, and prepared the usual heart-shaped box of chocolates, a bouquet of your favourite flowers, a stuffed animal of your favourite brand with his cologne sprayed on it, candy, perfume, a specially handwritten card in his signature dark, gothic stationery, and jewelry of your favourite kind. He’s those types of boyfriends who would go far to make you the Boo baskets or whatever. He knows what could make you swoon, it’s his thing. But you can’t help but wonder how he knows so much of your interests. Then, when the holidays came, and the moon was taking it’s throne, he’d lure you into the dark cobblestone paths of Ramshackle, and surprise you with the basket, and the little knick knacks he made, carefully arranged inside.

♥︎： He’s broke af, so he decided to craft everything. Listen, he never has the time to pick up new hobbies besides shoot a basketball into a hoop, or be a twink with Deuce, and slack off in his studies, but since he really likes you, and favours you… it’s just one time. He had enough pocket money to buy these candy strips, and make them into these edible roses—he definitely found the tutorial on Youtube Shorts. He also tried sculpting you this really ugly jewelry dish; he knows it’s ugly, but he hopes you like it. It’s smothered in glitter of your favourite colour, and he even wrapped it in a satin ribbon! Then, of course, he made you a card. It’s poorly coloured in crayons, the letters are wonky, and even F is written backwards. But you know, he just hopes you’re happy. Then when it’s time to give it to you, he’d slip the gift bag into your hands, foolishly smirking at you.

♥︎： It’s the time of the month for showing off his editing skills, and surprisingly, he’s pretty good in that Alightmotion stuff. He edited this photo album of you, putting in your favourite song, and adding these sick effects in it. He posted it in his Magicam story, but it ended up getting only 3 likes (from you, him, and his alt account). He can’t help but be a little disappointed, but since it was meant for you, he’s happy only you two got to see it. He also bought you a Djungelskog—the money came from his patron—and of course, the usual card, and a cheap box of chocolates. He’s especially teasing today, always sneaking pictures, and recording you while you open up his gift. He’s so proud of the edit though.

ׅ ׅ 𝒯hank 𝒴ou !!

[raccoon-beanieboi]

Clone x OC Week Day 1: Introducction/First Meeting

(side note of context: Ace genuinely isn't a clone, there's more detail about him elsewhere. Sorry if it's junky I forgot to edit it 😓)

Banners by @clonexocweek

Thanks for the prompt and running the event @clonexocweek

Pairings: Ace grovewood x Wolffe

Short summary: Polite conversation for a change, odd.

Rating: G / SFW

Words: 1,859

Warnings: none, maybe brief mention of getting punched.

Wolffe didn’t normally loathe someone. No, that wasn’t entirely true. He hated annoying company. And Foxtrot was annoying company, at least he thought that the corrie trooper was named Foxtrot but he could’ve sworn he heard someone else call Foxtrot ‘Ace.’ That didn’t matter, other than that Foxtrot was annoying as hell and wolffe was still sort of bitter about about what months ago last leave. Foxtrot or Ace, whatever the trooper’s name was, socked him in the jaw. He felt like it was unnecessary but he was sure Foxtrot would say otherwise and definitely did say otherwise every time Wolffe karking saw the smug menace of a bastard.  

   Yet every leave on planet side somehow became less boring when Ace, Wolffe, decided fit better than Foxtrot, would at some point and inevitably show up. He wasn’t sure what drew him in every damn time, maybe it was the banter or somewhat bickering their arguments had turned into. But either way Wolffe would forever deny how much Ace seemed to be growing on him. 

Until now that is.. They had somehow ended up stuck in a damn elevator. It didn’t help that Wolffe wasn’t a fan of small enclosed spaces that were dark but he didn’t let it show that it bothered him especially not when Ace looked so kriffing calm about the situation as if it was a daily occurrence.  Ace’s focus was on the datapad in his hands, the light of it reflecting on the visor of his helmet. Of course he was doing something useful like messaging Canvas about being stuck in the elevator. Although it meant they would be waiting a while til it was fixed. 

Wolffe huffed, already feeling a bit cramped in the claustrophobic space. It never failed, somehow whenever he and Ace managed to run into each other, they constantly found themselves in the most ridiculous of situations like this. Maybe it was just the force of fate. He leaned against the wall, crossing his arms, shifting a bit to get some semblance of comfort. “Kriffing hell…” He muttered, glancing at how calm and collected Ace looked right now, still focused on that kriffing datapad. Satisfied by Canvas’s response about how soon the situation would be dealt with and fixed. Ace decided that now was probably a good time to work on datawork. He started idly reading reports, signing them if needed or forwarding them to Fox. 

Wolffe watched with an air of irritation as Ace read through the reports. “You seem remarkably calm for someone stuck in an elevator.” He  grumbled, trying to hide the hint of tension in his voice that had nothing to do with the space they were in and everything to do with Ace’s infuriating nonchalance. “This doesn’t happen too often to you does it?” Ace sighed, he didn’t even look up from the datapad. Wolffe rolled his eyes, exasperated. It was like this every time, Ace always had some smartass retort, and Wolffe, for some bizarre reason, found it infuriatingly attractive. Not that he’d ever admit that. “No, it doesn’t. Most people have enough common sense not to get themselves stuck in an elevator.” He retorted, shifting against the wall again. It was definitely too damn claustrophobic in here.

“Well if that’s the case then you would’ve noticed that this one is one of the junky elevators that we’ve been trying to fix.” Ace poked his pen in Wolffe’s general direction before signing a report. “Oh really?” Wolffe couldn’t help but scoff, looking around the cramped space with a hint of annoyance. Not that he was nervous or anything. He could handle tight spaces just fine. “I could’ve never guessed that one.” Wolffe’s tone was heavily sarcastic. He pushed away from the wall and walked a few steps towards Ace, leaning against one of the walls next to him. “So what you’re saying is that we’re stuck here for a while..” 

Ace rolled his eyes, despite his helmet the action could probably be guessed. “Yes. Canvas and Feedback are working on it currently although they got a shiny so now is a good time to put his skills into practice.” He shrugged a little. He fell silent again, as he read. Kriff this wasn’t a report, it was some senator’s shitty ass complaint, he realized. He sighed softly to himself and forwarded it to Commander Fox with an apology attached to it. Wolffe rolled his eyes again at Ace’s words. Typical. He leaned against the wall, his eyes occasionally darted to the datapad in Ace’s hands. “You’re always so damn calm,” he muttered, though it was more to himself rather than Ace. He fidgeted a bit, trying to find a position that wasn’t so karking uncomfortable. After a few moments of uncomfortable silence, he finally spoke up. “Can I ask you something?” 

“Is it going to be insulting?” Ace paused slightly. He glanced briefly at Wolffe before looking away. Wolffe clicked his tongue, not even surprised at Ace’s usual smartass tone. “You really think everything’s a dig against you, don’t you?” His tone became slightly defensive. “I just need to ask you something.” satisfied that wouldn’t be an insult, “fine. You can ask me something.” Ace gestured vaguely for Wolffe to continue. Wolffe took a deep breath, almost looking a bit fidelity. “I’ve just been wondering about something.. About you.” His tone was a bit cautious. He watched as Ace waited patiently, looking almost a bit curious underneath that blasted helmet. 

“Why do you even wear the helmet all the time?” He asked. It was a question he’d wanted to ask ever since he realized that Ace always wore his helmet. Ace tensed a little a bit before he made himself relaxed. “All corries wear their helmet commander.” He finally sighed out. Wolffe raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, but not all the time. I’ve seen.. Occasionally.. Some of the corries without their helmets. Especially Fox.” He retorted, his voice slightly tinged with annoyance. Skeptical that Wolffe had seen corries without their helmets, Ace at least refrained from rolling his eyes. “Fox is usually in his office. It’s fine there. If it’s on base and nobody is around. Then sure helmets are off. And I do the same.” He signed a few more reports. Wolffe huffed, crossing his arms over his chest again. He watched as Ace signed another couple more reports. “That doesn’t explain why you never take it off around me.” He groused, his tone a bit disgruntled. 

“Protocol isn’t lenient.” Ace uttered out roughly. He out of habit went to put the pen to his lips before remembering he was still technically wearing his helmet. He quickly lowered the pen. Wolffe watched the little gesture, a small smirk tugging at his lips. He leaned closer, his shoulders brushing against Ace’s. “Oh come on, I’ve never seen your face. Ever.” He replied, his tone almost coaxing. There was a hint of frustration in his voice, not because he was still stuck in an elevator with the infuriating corrie sergeant, but because he was stuck in an elevator and he still couldn’t see any of Ace’s facial features. “Commander Fox’s orders” Ace waved Wolffe off. “What’s with the fascination of knowing what I look like anyway?” He inclined his head slightly. 

Wolffe grunted in response, the smirk fading a little from his face. He shrugged nonchalantly, trying to act casual. “It’s just… curiosity, I suppose.” Curiosity was an understatement. He leaned even closer towards Ace, his voice lowering slightly. “And what’s wrong with me wanting to know what you look like?” This was at most, civil conversation in many months of knowing each other, Ace mused to himself. “Odd thing to want to know. We all look the same don’t we?” He knew how to play being a clone well, Fox made sure of that but he pushed that thought away. 

Wolffe sighed. He knew that they looked the same. They were all clones, they were the same in every way but one. “Yeah, but-” He paused, biting his lower lip. Why was he so karking stubborn? “I just want to know you.” Ace gawked slightly at Wolffe. He was somehow extremely expressive despite constantly wearing a helmet. “Me? You want to know me?” Wolffe nodded, moving closer to Ace. He could feel the heat from Ace’s body, even through their armor. He wanted to know if it was the same with his clothes off… “Yes, you. I want to know you.” He repeated. The words sounded like a damn confession, and Wolffe wasn’t sure why he was being so honest. Maybe it was the kriffing elevator. 

Ace laughed awkwardly “Maybe one day.” He gently poked Wolffe in the chest with the end of his pen. Wolffe’s heart skipped a beat the moment the pen touched his chest. That karking pen had no business in making him feel like this. He huffed, trying to hide the way his heartbeat seemed to race. He grabbed onto the pen and snatched it out of Ace’s hand, holding it close. “One day?” He repeated with a skeptical tone. “Why not now?” Ace hesitated “because.. Well I hate to say it, I don’t entirely trust you yet.” He reached to take his pen back. When the elevator shuddered and groaned before it was finally moving. Wolffe couldn’t help but roll his eyes. Typical like always. Ace didn’t trust him yet. And he couldn’t be blamed for that. He looked up as the elevator started to move smoothly, the shuddering stopping. A wave of relief washed over him. They were finally moving. “You don’t have to trust me right now. But I’ll change your mind about it. I promise.” Wolffe handed the pen back to Ace, their fingers brushing against each other for a moment. He took a deep breath, trying to ignore the heat that rushed his face. 

“I’ll hold you to that promise commander.” Ace tucked his pen and datapad away when the elevator stopped and the doors opened up to the street, Canvas and feedback on the other side. He nodded to them before he glanced over to Wolffe. “I’ll see you around Wolffe.” He waved before he stepped off, patted Canvas’s shoulder before he went right. Wolffe watched as Ace stepped off the elevator with a wave. He couldn’t help but feel a pang of disappointment, knowing that their conversation was over. He huffed, trying to hide the way the word ‘promise’ affected him like a damn blaster shot. But, he nodded at Ace. “See you around, Ace.” He muttered gruffly, he clenched his fit at his side briefly to hide the trembling. It didn’t take long for Ace to disappear into the bustling crowd. Wolffe couldn’t help but stare for a moment longer, his eyes following the path long after Ace had disappeared. He rubbed his head, as if that would somehow clear away the thoughts that refused to leave his mind. The karking corrie was infuriating. Infuriatingly attractive. Wolffe shook his head and started to walk away after nodding slightly at canvas and feedback. He had reports to finish, damn it.  

[fairly-linked]

Yandere legend with affectionate reader

Okay! Thanks for the idea. 😊

It's a bit short, but I hope you like it. Sorry it took a while... 😓😓😓

Enjoy!

Obsession (Yandere!Legend x Reader)

Captivating.

That was the only word he could ever use to describe you, and even then, it didn't do you justice. He was absolutely enamored with you, he'd do quite literally anything for you. Anything at all. He'd be more than happy to get rid of someone something for you if you so wished.

You were just so... divine. He could hardly wrap his head around it. From the sweet sound of your voice, to your gorgeous hair, to every curve of your body, even down to how you displayed your own affection for him; the Vet loved every. Little. Bit.

You were heaven-sent in his eyes, even more so now that the two of you were officially together. He's noticed every little sparkle in your eyes, every chance you've taken to touch him (Oh, how he'd wish you'd do it more); he's noticed everything.

So when you stroll up to him at his bedroll and sit next to him, snuggling up to him immediately, it's no surprise. He blushes the tiniest bit, thankful that your position against him doesn't allow you to see it. He grins, wrapping an arm around you.

"What's up, angel? Feeling okay?" he asks, giving your shoulder a small rub.

You nod, making a noise similar to a groan. His grin fades a bit.

"...You sure? You don't sound all that chipper."

"'M fine, jus' tired..." you mumble against his shoulder, which makes him chuckle.

"You wanna stay here with me tonight?" he questions. He's a bit scared you'll say no--

"Mh-hm..." you groan again before he can finish his thought. This only makes his grin return.

"Sounds good to me, babydoll."

He lets go of you, shifting to lay under the blanket of his bedroll. You follow suit, and he holds an arm up for you to snuggle into his chest. You oblige without hesitation.

"Better?" He asks softly, grinning like a fool as he nuzzles his face into your hair.

"Mh-hm."

"Good."

He kisses the top of your head, snuggling into your hair. It smells of your own natural scent, one he finds comfort in. In that same scent, he can also smell faint traces of the perfume he got you for your birthday. It was the scent you told him was your favorite... Goddesses, he remembers how ecstatic you were that day.

You'd practically thrown yourself at him, giving him a big smooch on the cheek. He chuckles softly at the memory; when he snaps back to the present, he's found you fast asleep.

He smiles, snuggling you like a child would a teddy bear. He'd never ever let you go, even if you wanted to leave. You're his, that's all there is to it. He's suffered way too much loss just to let you go--

A sleepy little groan escapes you, snapping him from his thoughts. He grins, kissing your forehead and stroking your hair. As he looks down at your face, he gets lost in thought again. You're just so... perfect. He doesn't know how he got so lucky, but he'll be damned if he ever lets you go.

Either way, he knows you won't leave. You love him too much for that, but he knows just as well that you're a bit shy. It was awkward at first. You being shy and him being quite jaded plus not knowing how to talk to girls meant you two didn't interact at all in the beginning. You were too bashful and were even a bit intimidated by him since he was snarky and never talked to you. You thought he didn't like you at first...

So when he realized he liked you way more than he'd ever admit, he also realized that if he wanted your relationship to go anywhere, he'd have to do the approaching, which of course he was not a fan of. But he did it anyway.

And had he known then you were so sweet, so affectionate? He'd have approached you way sooner.

He loves the little things you do to him. Random hugs and kisses, random compliments; he loves it all. And he loves you even more for it.

As he lies there, carding his fingers through your hair and kissing your forehead to soothe you to sleep, he smiles, taking note of just how wonderful you are.

He knows full well you've got him wrapped around your little finger, and he wouldn't have it any other way.

[youremyheaven]

any tips on how to start dressing better?

id loveee to dress with a more artsy, feminine style (for context i study arts, so visual arts, music, dance, theatre, but also business in the arts!) and i love love love your style like its literally how id dress daily if i could. i love style inspos like that but i don’t know how to maximise outfits with a few pieces, especially girly fits. i also love certain boyish/male-dominated sports and when i watch or attend the events id like to dress girly-ish? but also dress “right”, so shorts and stuff because its SO HOT but a lot of the places i work and study at are also rich people places so i also want to fit in and be taken seriously (i say this like i dont maximise my young and sweet girl persona to get around sometimes but still) 🫤🫤 i love your style because its so feminine and romantic and sweet and classy and timeless and i dress like that at times…. not always because i don’t know how to maximise my pieces but i thought you’d know best ����😓

hope you have a lovely day ahead!

general tips on finding your style: (I won't say "dress better" bc that's very relative and can mean so many different things although I completely understand what u mean in your context)

start making pinterest boards

it helped me soooo much in understanding what i was drawn to and the recurring/repeating motifs that showed up in the outfits i was inspired by

you can make several diff boards for diff occasions like "outfits for class" or "outfits for parties" and each can have a diff vibe that suits your needs

when we think of personal style very broadly, we tend to be overwhelmed so browse through pinterest and look at outfits for inspo and you'll have a realistic idea of what you'd like to wear

2. understand your body and vibe/essence

this is where Kibbe and Kitchener theories help the most but i feel like most people nowadays use it to beat themselves up for being a certain Kibbe type or being delusional about the kind of essences they have etc

however, if you have a good grasp of Kibbe/Kitchener, it makes dressing up 10000x times simpler,, my personal style has improved SOOO much since i discovered Kibbe & Kitchener in 2021-2022,,,

3. build a "uniform" for yourself

if u look at my style moodboards, u can see how most of the outfits are kinda similar ish?? they're either slip dresses, sundresses, maxi skirts + tops, midi skirts + tops and generally adhere to a pink + green/blue palette (i call it my strawberry shortcake color scheme hehe)

once u find what u like + what flatters u , stick to it tbh. its faaaar easier to get dressed if you know exactly what you're going for. its 100% more convenient and people are going to associate you with that look/aesthetic and i think its important to have a strong personal "brand" if u want to be distinct and memorable.

its even better bc if you ever wear something slightly different, people are going to lose their minds lol when all u did was channel a different vibe. its like a 0 cost makeover effect.

i think its economical, efficient, memorable and overall wonderful to build a personal "uniform" and stick to it

i can wear those outfits (from my moodboard) to class, to brunch, to dates, to shop etc,, they're very flexible and aren't overly dressy or overly casual.

i only buy something if i feel like i can wear it everyday, obviously some pieces are more dressy and are for "special occasions" but generally, dont buy anything you cant see yourself wear every single day.

im not saying you SHOULD wear it everyday but that, that should be the intention. clothes are meant to be worn and used, not just look pretty on the hanger. so when you're in the trial room, ask yourself, will i feel comfortable and cute wearing this everyday for a week straight if need be?

you can build a uniform for diff occasions too!! so sporty events can mean pink camisole with lace trims and cut off shorts with baseball cap and strawberry print Vans sneakers or some variation of that

4. maximising your pieces!!! (finally answering THE question u asked but we already know that i need to yap a bit to get to the point lmao)

i am a mix and match girlie and i think thats just the most efficient and economical approach to fashion lmao

take out everything in your wardrobe and lay it all out on your bed and start trying on different pieces together and take full length mirror selfies

create a folder in your gallery for "outfit ideas" and save these pix to that folder 😉

you can thoroughly clean out your closet and critically evaluate everything you own and play dress up and have fun all at once!! when you play around with clothes you own, you'll come up with outfit combos you would have never dreamt of and having them stored in your handy folder will help u access them quickly in the future when u have somewhere to go and need some ideas!!!

it will also help you understand what you have too little of and what u have too much of

maybe u have 10 pairs of pants and 5 skirts and only 6 tops,, now u know what u should and shouldnt shop for in the future

id never encourage unnecessary shopping but if your budget allows for it,, u can buy some "core pieces" that will be foundational to your wardrobe

anything can be worn a million different ways, u just have to be creative

understanding how colours work together + how fabrics work together is very beneficial

if u have a baby pink tulip skirt, u can wear it with a white corset top (pink and white look amazing together) ,, you can wear it with a white satin button down shirt, a white lace trim tank top etc etc,, notice how all of these are different styles of top wear but they're all white which means you can also wear it with any other colour or piece in your wardrobe

for every "standout/statement" piece your purchase (ex: a skirt with heavy embroidery or patterns) you should have 3 or more "neutral" pieces that complement it. "neutral" pieces are the ones that work with everything or most things in your wardrobe.

if you love monochrome, then u do u but otherwise id say buy pieces in colours you dont already have,,, u dont have to buy colours u hate but having pops of colour in your wardrobe also helps maximise outfits bc it looks like u have made more of an effort than u have.

many people hesitate to "wear" colour bc they think it looks loud or that it doesnt have repeat value or whatever but thats not true!! u can wear the same colourful piece thrice a week and style it completely differently and no one will notice

accessories ARE KEYYYY,, u can dress up or dress down a look with them. build a little collection of your staples, like jewellery u can wear everyday and not take off?? have a handful of essentials that u can rely on to spice up outfits. a pair of gold hoops, a pair of dangly earrings, a cute pendant, another cute pendant u can switch it up with, a few rings or bracelets, a watch etc u dont have to buy a lot or have a lot, u just have to be smart!!

same goes for shoes and bags,, have 2-3 in rotation that works with majority of your wardrobe,, nobody needs 10 pairs of shoes or bags tbh ,, dont hesitate to repeat things, it'll just be your "signature" look and who doesnt want a signature look?? 💅🏻😌😌

also since u mentioned u dont know how to maximise girly fits with a few pieces, I GOTCHU

its more efficient to invest in skirts and tops than dresses if u are on a budget bc a dress is an outfit in itself and u cant repeat it too often (u can get vvv creative with the styling tho ngl but thats for later)

im going to give you a very simple idea (?? ish?)

this is a very basic white tank top. it looks cuter and "feminine" bc it has lace trims. what makes an outfit feel more girly is often little details like this. so instead of wearing a basic tank top, pick something that is a bit frilly.

u can easily create an infinite number of outfits with this one piece

(i know they're not all wearing the same identical tank top but im just showing u the diff possibilities)

this is a pink satin skirt styled 3 ways:

u only really need a few pieces tbh and the rest is just wearing them in different wayyyyss

idk how helpful this was but ur so sweet 🥺🥺and im so happy u like my style hehe<333

hope u have a lovely day/night and i hope u have a lot of fun with fashion too <33

edit: also just take ur time, u don't have to fix everything overnight and spend money u don't have to buy things that aren't strictly necessary. this is a long term project and it may take months or years to have a solid capsule wardrobe full of pieces you can style and wear in interesting ways

[dextraicarus1994]

Well, I finished seeing episode 7 of Creature Commandos and I want to say that:

I got a bit disappointed, really...

I felt sad about Nina's origin, her dad was a kind person unlike her mother who didn't fight for her, just because Nina had some struggles in her lungs, Lily is a bad mother, she didn't love her from the first sight she was born, something that I hate to see when it comes into a relationship between a mother and a child. Abandoning a child in a moment of much need just because you can't stand seeing your child in the struggles it has, is not good parenting.

I want to say that humans, especially the police in this series are total creeps, I mean, an officer shot Nina's father without any reason, he wasn't bloody armed!!! This made the statement that police in real life, shot or attack first and then ask questions!!! (Well, it is all the time, but man, those creeps in here are totally dumb) and why did they want to capture Nina? She wasn't doing anything to harm others!!! She only wanted some peace, be free but no, humans wanted to be famous for discovering something that is not normal from them and display them as trophies (bloody hate them here, not all of them, but man, this made it difficult to like some civilians in this serie).

And now with Ilana, it totally makes no sense why she did that macabre plan all that time, just for the narcissist attitude like Bride said? A totally wasted opportunity, really, I did like her but this revelation it was a pure waste in all truth, the "just because I want to" bs pffftt... I also felt bad for the Bride but still... If many loved her, in my case, this got me a little down to her, making her statement that "planet earth" is a waste of place, because of her trauma, yeah, she is kickass and avenged Nina, but I felt a bit disappointed of her either way, I don't know, I didn't get satisfied with how the things went in this episode and what is worse in my case for Rick Flag Sr., now the fan base will make fun of him now, saying he was a man who was seduced by a horny/ evil narcissist princess and will be represented as the fool. 😓😓💔💔💔

My favorite character (Rick Flag Sr.) will be turned into a laughing stock foolish lover seduced by a crazy princess of evil charm.😓😓😓😓💔💔💔💔

My rate for this episode is 7/10... I... I was disappointed this time... and I meant it, it is not everyday that I rank a series with that score (at least for me). 🫤🫤🫤🫤💔💔💔💔💔

Ooohh, and I almost forgot, It made me laugh that Eric tried to talk to Bride but it didn't work (and survive again), too bad the interaction lasted short, it didn't bring a lot of content and just threw off the rivalry/twisted obsession into the window. I was expecting more... But guess I have to wait for Season 2 to see what will happen to the characters. 🫤🫤🫤🫤💔💔💔💔💔💔

[hugs2doie]

hii <3 could you do texts with bf! jaehyun x fem!reader arguing over something but they managed to talk it out and make up? thank you your texts scenarios are so cute 🥹

heyy !! ofc i can <3 also sorry if this is short, i feel like if i would’ve made it longer, the situation would turn toxic 😭 thank u smmm angel !! i hope u like this 💞

chocolates & milkshakes

summary: you & jaehyun argue over something but manage to talk it out

pairing: bf!jaehyun x gn!reader

genre: angst but it gets fluffy dw

warnings: none really

author’s note: IM NOT SURE IF U WANTED IT IN A TEXTING FORMAT?? 😭😭 but bcz u said u love my texting scenarios, i assumed u meant it in a texting format 😭😭 i still hope u like it 😓

reqs r open !