#those two i never liked playing through really.

[sillymommy6969]

.𖥔 ݁ ݁˖ 𝕷IKE THAT ᝰ! D.A.

˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆౨ৎ synopsis: you were dani’s favourite, you knew that. of all the girls and guys she had, she always came back to you. but lately, you’ve found yourself detaching from the fwb arrangement; staying out late more and dodging her calls, but she’s determined to have you back to her--'cause all those girls (they don’t) know what you need

warnings: angst, slight!nsfw, sexual content mentioned, toxic!dani, straight men (ew), eventual fluff, would turn into series

turntable now playing: like that - babymonster

“You’ve reached y/n’s cell! I can’t come to the phone right now, but please leave a message after the--” What the fuck. What the actual fuck. This was the fourth call you haven’t picked up tonight. Daniela wasn’t just growing impatient, she was livid.

You and Daniela met in college, your roommate, Lara always hung around this group of girls you would eventually befriend.

You met Sophia first, the ambitious go-getter with a type of energy you always struggled to keep up with. Then came Megan, who introduced you to the deep, relaxing world of Yacht rock. The two of you shared a deep love for tanning in the Hawaiian sun and loving alternative fashion.

Third was Yoonchae; she was quiet, a complimentary presence contrary to the chaotic energy the other three brought.

It was through Manon--whom was the smartest, and the most well-versed woman you knew--did you come to meet Daniela. You were trying to get French lessons from Manon, who was somewhat fluent in French (and 16 other languages), and you’d see her roommate loitering around the dorm.

And with knowing Daniela came succumbing to her charm.

Very charismatic, but had little heart for good intentions. You knew she had a deck of names just on her phone. You knew she could just phone up whomever she’d wanted, and they would come, but you didn’t care. It felt too good when you had her attention alone, when she wouldn’t care if her phone pinged when you were making out in her mustang at the top of the couple go-to of all LA’s trails.

“You’ve reached y/n’s cell! I can’t come to the phone right now, but--” Daniela chucked her phone into the passenger seat beside her, running a hand through her hair. Fifth time without an answer. You’ve never done this before.

She was making all kinds of reason as to why you’d go mia:

a) You could be mad at her. The last time the two of you were hanging out, alone, she did leave you in her room high and dry when she got a call from Caleb and his drinking buddies. She assured you she owed the guys a round of drinks for helping her cheat on her mid-term the week earlier, but you were not happy, and definitely worried about Manon coming home.

b) Maybe you’d found someone else. After weeks of playing this push and pull game with you, Daniela got really drunk one night and didn’t feel like arguing when you began scolding her for standing you up and didn’t even bother texting. She flat out told you, “move on then. nobody’s making you stay, so what’s stopping you?” It was harsh, but the two of you never spoke of that night. Maybe you finally listened to that advice.

c) You died. There were no other options. You had to be dead.

Daniela had never felt so out of control before. She prided herself in being able to string boys and girls along with just her pinkie finger. She never committed to anybody, she loved toying with her roster more than anything.

But every time she’d end things with her other flings, she’d come back to you without fail.

And she would praise you, whether she’d be making her mark on you or taking you out for some fancy meal she wouldn’t let you pay for, she’d make sure to make you feel special.

Until she found the next woman who wanted to make her the ultimate bi-curious experiment, or the group of frat guys who wanted to “just go out and party it up” with her alone.

You weren’t exactly bothered by it at first, you were thankful you got even that shred of her attention. But the more you fooled around, the more you worried for her when Manon would call you late to ask if you knew where she was; or when she’d abruptly leave a hang-out she asked for to go party. When you confided in Lara, the only person beyond the two of you who knew of the situation, she reminded you of the lineup you had waiting for you before Daniela came into your life.

You were young, beautiful, and full of life. Why get weighed down by somebody as careless and immature as Daniela?

So you started hanging out with your friends more again. Lara and Manon would drag you out to the most exclusive nightclubs and bars around LA, some other nights Sophia and Yoonchae would bring you out on movie nights and have takeout and play games all night. On weekends, Megan would take you out on long drives along the coast of Californian beaches, spending hours working on your tan and basking in the sun until both of you had bikini lines along your chest.

Daniela was no longer a priority in your life, like you in hers.

“You’ve reached y/n’s cell! I can’t come to the phone right now, but please leave a message after the beep--” Sixth attempt in, she can’t bring herself to end the call anymore.

Daniela was definitely going through the five stages of grief; denial, anger--now, bargaining.

She thought hard, really hard about all the people you’ve been spending more time with lately. She knew you and the girls were together a lot, but she also remembered this new guy who often popped up on your phone recently; Jay.

Jay frequented the gym you worked out at, he had the sexiest smirk you had ever seen on a man.

Daniela knew. She had briefly tried flirting with Jay once. She was at lunch with some of the friends she knew through Heeseung and Kai, and Jay pretty much sat and looked pretty. He kept to himself and Daniela loved a challenge, so she tried hitting on him. Alas, he turned down her advances, and now she knew why--‘cuz he was dead set on you.

She knew you better than that. She knew you had to be doing this to piss her off; and god damn it, it’s working.

“Hello?” It took her a minute to actually register you had picked up--the seventh call, the seventh time she’d clicked on your name, the seventh time she told herself she was acting far too desperate for her own liking.

“Where the fuck have you been?” was the first thing that came out of her mouth, “I’ve been calling your call all night, I thought I was gonna come by tonight.”

She could hear a busy party on your other end of the line.

“Sorry, Sophia and I met up with some friends. What’s up?”

“Friends? Like who? What club are you at right now, I’ll pull up,” Daniela started her car, hearing her engine roar.

“I--Okay, wait, I’m sorry, Dani, can we talk later?” you apologized quickly. Daniela could hear the sound of a man’s voice faintly, and before she could protest, you ended the call.

“Come on, screenager, I thought we were unplugging tonight.” You follow your gaze, met with a tall, muscular build before you with two drinks in his hands. He’s staring at you, and when his eyes lock with yours, you feel a flash of something—interest.

You’re not sure why, but you felt hesitant. The thought of talking to someone new—someone not Daniela—felt foreign. But you shoved it aside, forcing yourself to smile as you shoved your phone back into your pocket, taking the drink.

“Sorry, just a concerned roommate,” you lied, trying to keep your voice steady. Why the hell does it feel this complicated?

“Lara, right?” he asks, “I share a lecture with her. She’s cool.”

You nod, conversing mindlessly. You exchange small talk for a few minutes, but your mind keeps drifting. There’s this nagging thought at the back of your mind—Daniela.

It doesn’t help that you saw she had tried to reach you six times before you picked up. She’d been calling, texting, and you—well, you just couldn’t deal with it. You were thankful for the loud music and strong stench of sweat and hormones, you could barely hear your own thoughts. Part of you was hoping she’d just get the hint and leave you alone for a while. You were trying to find your balance, trying to feel like you again, without the weight of whatever was happening between you two.

But now, as you laugh and talk with Jay, you can’t ignore the fact that you keep glancing away, his words tuning out.

It was then did you see a familiar head through the crowd of dancing people and drunk college students.

She’s here.

Daniela is standing by the entrance, her eyes scanning the crowd. You can’t see much more than the back of her head, but the way she holds herself, her golden curls, you know it’s her. Your stomach tightens.

"Everything okay?" Jay asked, noticing your distracted gaze.

“Yeah,” you reply, your voice flat, not realizing how much you’ve been affected by Daniela’s presence. You try to brush it off and focus back on Jay, but the sight of Daniela in the crowd feels like it’s pulling you in, tugging at you. Minutes later, you see her moving through the crowd, eyes trained on you like she’s found her target. There’s a flicker of annoyance in your chest. What does she want now? Why is she here?

But before you can process any of it, you feel her presence beside you—close enough that her perfume hits your nose. It’s familiar, warm, and immediately intoxicating.

You turn your head to meet her gaze, and for a moment, time slows. Daniela looks different tonight—darker, more intense.

“y/n,” she said, her voice low. “We need to talk.”

“Do you know her?” Jay asked, but you couldn’t look away.

You felt a shiver run down your spine. The club’s music thundered around you, but her words cut through it all. Jay noticed the shift, raising an eyebrow, but Daniela doesn’t even glance in his direction. It’s all about you now.

“I’m kinda busy,” you said, trying to sound unaffected, but your voice shook. You hated how weak you sound. Why the hell does she do this to you?

Daniela smirked, taking a step closer to you, her presence so overwhelming that you can’t breathe. Her eyes search your face, as if trying to read you. “No, you’re not. Come on.“

“Yo, she’s not comfortable, back up.” Jay held a hand up in front of Daniela, keeping her from stepping any closer. “Get lost, you can catch her later when you lose the attitude.”

“This doesn’t concern you, bird face.” Daniela held a hand up, “I want you

You want to pull away, to tell her to leave you alone. But there’s this pull between you two, this magnetic force you’ve never been able to escape, and for some stupid reason, you find yourself following her toward the edge of the dance floor, away from Jay and Sophia, away from the crowd.

“Dani, I—” you start, but she cuts you off, her hand suddenly grabbing yours, pulling you toward a quieter corner.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” she says, her voice sharp, but there’s an edge of vulnerability beneath it. It catches you off guard, making your breath catch in your throat.

“No, I’ve just been around,” you say weakly, though you can tell it’s a poor excuse, “My phone was on silent.”

She doesn’t buy it. You can see the way her eyes darken. She takes another step closer, and this time, you can feel her body heat, the tension crackling in the air between you.

“I care about you,” Daniela says, the words coming out in a low, strained whisper. It’s so different from the way she normally talks to you—abrasive, defiant—but tonight, she’s softer, almost desperate. “I don’t care about the rules, the games. I just want you to come home with me.”

The words hit you like a ton of bricks. You blinked, trying to process them, but they’re already sinking in, wrapping around you, binding you to her. You’ve never heard Daniela speak like that before—not with this rawness, this vulnerable edge.

But you knew better than to give in that easily.

“I can’t just leave Sophia,” you scoffed, “And Jay, he’s been super nice to me--!”

Amidst the dance floor, away from any curious eyes, she grabbed your hips and begun grinding against you. Her front pressed flush against your back, her toned stomach grazing the small of your back. You felt your words catch in your throat, your brain frying the moment you felt her hands on you. It felt too familiar, too comforting for your liking.

“If I come close, baby, would you like that?” she whispered against your ear, you felt her lips smirk. Her fingers traced lines against your hot skin. “‘Cause all those boys, they don’t know what you need, but I… I know how to make sure you never leave.” Her voice had your knees bucking in the middle of the club. Jay and Sophia long forgotten as you focused on your hips moving in the same rhythm as this world class dancer’s.

You shook your head, unsure of what to say, but it’s too late.

Your heart stuttered in your chest. The reality of it hit you all at once—the unspoken truth of what you’ve been trying to deny for so long. You cared about her. You cared more than you were willing to admit, more than you’ve allowed yourself to feel. The thought of Jay, of anyone else, made your stomach churn.

And as you stand there, with Daniela’s hand gently gripping yours, her gaze locking onto yours with a desperate intensity, you realized you’d put up with her childish, immature tantrums if it meant you had her under your thumb like this.

You nodded, just a tiny movement, and Daniela’s expression softened immediately.

“Come home with me,” she whispered, the words almost reverent, like a plea. Can you imagine that? Having Daniela Avanzini beg for you.

You don’t say anything at first. You just let her take your hand, and for the first time, you allow yourself to follow her—heart pounding, but this time, not out of fear, but something else entirely. You liked it just like that.

[ghostykapi]

twice and the ways to say i miss you when they are touring

im nayeon

i’m sorry but you must endure the one thousand kisses once she gets back or she will cry

demands with pouts and that cute voice that makes you cave in

what? the tour is amazing but after being weeks apart from her lover can make her do weird things (ask jeong or jihyo, they can confirm)

she’s got a whole bottle of your perfume/fragrance to cope with a your jacket so it feels like you’re always there giving her a hug

but now that she’s back >:)))

will 100%, with no miss at all, pin you down every morning to snuggle and kiss you despite your whines of you trying to be a bit early to work

oh you work from home? better make sure you work fast or she will distract you with those hands 😋 no escape for you

yoo jeongyeon

constant video calls to keep her grounded but it’s never enough to make her feel that 100% energy boost

lowkey losing it but to her members they can see how miserable she can get when you aren’t there

sorry she’s like this but she just really really needs your cuddles right now and the fact that you’re so far away makes it so so so mean :((

she manages with the polaroids of both of you that she brings everywhere

of course she won’t pressure you but good lord you also don’t know what to do without her close to you at most nights

and that’s why you’re always with her on tour once you can start working remotely, always either disguised as the “manager/staff” or straight up out to the world that you’re her lover

hirai momo

misses you and her children (read: her dogs) that when she fatetimes you she’s abt to sob

“my babies!” she says everytime you go on call and boo and dobby are with you

clings unto sana to cope (both of them are coping together through the power of friendship!!!)

one time she managed to convince all of twice to get food at 4 am to cope??? anyway yeah so there they were at 4 am at a taco cart munching away with like two other managers

everytime she comes home she brings you snacks and treats and spends most of her time with you and her dogs

minatozaki sana

on the outside she’s calm cool collected a lil flirty

in the inside she’s screaming fighting for her LIFE because wdym you aren’t a phone call away from her to cling unto you huh

clings unto her members for moral support and they always send pictures of her clinging to you (THROUGH THE POWER OF FRIENDSHIP)

buys you jewelry that she thinks looks good on you and copes with that information until she lands back home

pouncing on you the moment you see her come down from the van in front of your apartment/home

“baby!!!” she screams as she clings unto you like a koala and she’s abt to make you both fall over

sorry she’s never letting you go

you are now the latest personal bodyguard of sana for the next couple of days btw (she likes them a lil possessive)

park jihyo

she can fairly cope well for the first few days but she can feel bits of her cracking when she doesn’t get your dose of cuddles

copes by also stealing your jacket but she actually steals two so she can have two styles ready that has a piece of you with her

always playing with the necklace you got for her on your 9th date with her or with the keychain on her bag that you got on a random day proclaiming that yes that sleeping bear keychain reminded you of jihyo because both her and the keychain look cute

she’s always so busy even when she gets home so she never really gets to release that want to just be alone with you

but holds you so close and so tight when both of you are sleeping to feel calm and to convey the feelings she always has for you

myoui mina

doesn’t show it to anyone, even you, that she’s abt to break bc she misses you so much

copes with buying trinkets that remind her of you so she ends up coming home from tour

half of her big suitcase is trinkets, someone stop her

you always end up sorting the trinkets and like dedicating a space in your home for it. when she comes back you both take the time to add it to the collection together

you know those apps for u to use to signal you miss your lover yeah well mina didn't take long to convince you to download it

is that another damn trinket

kim dahyun

the most sane one in twice

she always takes you out on dates back before the tour starts so she uses those memories to cope + regular calls with you despite time differences always helps

writes yearning songs all the damn time

YEARNING IN SONG WRITING!! THAT DAMN NOTEBOOK IS ALMOST FULL SHE'S ABOUT TO BUY ANOTHER

when she returns from tour, she cherishes the most domestic things with you

case and point she fell so much harder for you when you were both just doing chores, humming the songs blasting from your speakers

son chaeyoung

shut up wdym nonchalant?? no. clingy gf realness

she is OBSESSED WITH YOU there is no way this woman won't lose it when you are not with here in tour

but your work is important so she won't pull you away

though i bet you half of her wardrobe is your clothes with your perfume smothered on them

twice members complain at how much she's always missing u, yearning for u, talking about u, yapping abt u

it's the rest of twice that begs for you to come with them the next tour to shut her up

she does not shut up but you get to distract her by kissing and it always works

chou tzuyu

her? missing you? why should she miss you when she can just bring you along??????????

only member to actually think about it and put it to action the moment you both started to become official

it took so much convincing, and like you had to also be a part of staff lowk

like who is holding the cam for her vlogs?? you babes it's you

sometimes the other members also ask for your help but honestly you don't mind and tzuyu gets to film you too sometimes so like yay bonding activities

kisses backstage!!! KISSES BACKSTAGE TZUYU CHEERED

[shinningdance]

Made with love

this is a part two of this :)) but it can be without part one!!

roommate au, my beloved ♡♡♡

warnings: none, pure fluff

The door slams behind you, locking with a small 'click'. The jacket you were wearing only a minute before is now laying on the floor, along with your shoes.

It was just so unfair. The Competition on who gets 2 days paid time off was supposed to be an easy win. You made the best Steak with mashed potatoes on the side, followed by the most delicious apple pie. Your co-workers were also not best cooks, making your win even easier. Yet you still lost, only because your boss was rating the foods and he had to choose his son, who cannot cook to safe his life. Who even pairs instant noodles with Asparagus?! But apparently his food was so delicious he won the competition with ease. And that jerk had the nerve to say to you he was 'just better than average". As if you're average, you're well above that, according to your four roommates who devoured your food.

Speaking of your roommates, one of them stares at you while you storm to your room, ignoring his confused questions. Normally you wouldn't ignore him, any of them really, but you would never ever ignore Kyle, he's always the first one to help you out with anything you might need. Need someone to proofread an e-mail? You go to Kyle. Need someone to talk to? Kyle it is. Need someone? Kyle.

You enter your room and, just like with the front door, slam your door shut. Turning the key to the right, you look it. Not that any of the guys would enter without knocking and waiting for you to say it's alright to enter. You sink down to the floor, clutching your bag to your chest. It's a bit silly to cry over something so silly, it's not like it was a promotion, it was just a silly work Competition. Unfair but still small.

Maybe what set you off were all those small things that happened. Spilling your coffee over yourself right before a big meeting, getting ignored through the entire said meeting, working through lunch - meaning going hungry, and last but not least, that stupid cooking thing.

With a heavy sigh you lift yourself up from the ground and head right towards your bed. You don't bother changing your clothes, just slipping right under the covers and closing your eyes. Maybe sleep will cheer you up for a bit.

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

While you were sleeping Kyle went through every conversation he had with you in the last 24 hours, trying to figure out what he did for you to ignore him.

He couldn't figure it out. He always said good morning and good night, he left you your favorite food in the fridge after you got home from work and he saved you from a spider. He looked just like a kicked puppy sitting on the couch, a random show playing in the background.

He had to be sitting there for quit some time because the other three man had been starring at him since they got back home. 5 minutes of starring at Kyle until he finally acknowledged them.

"Did any of you piss off our bird?" he questions the three man locking at him, all of them re-stocking the kitchen after their grocery trip.

"Not that i can remember, last time i saw her, she was smiling like she had no care in the world." John answers quickly, making sure no one can blame him.

"Not me either" Simon replies, giving no explanation.

Three pair of eyes land on a specific Scot, who's currently showing the last remains of your pie down his throat.

He looks up, eyes turning wide as e speaks with a full mouth. "what? i dinnae do anythin'!" He claims as he swallows the pie.

"Are you sure? Like..100%?" Kyle asks while looking towards your bedroom door.

"ay! 100% swear on ma mama" Johnny nods, hoping they'll belive it.

"Then what did piss her off?" John asks, rubbing his forehead in confusion.

"no idea...wasn't today her cooking thing at work?" Kyle questions, looking at the three men again.

"it was." Simon confirms, nodding along. "But there's no way she didn't win." He grunts, placing the milk in the fridge.

"If she did win, she wouldn't react like this." John mumbles, trying to figure out what happend.

The four of them continue to try and solve this puzzle, to no success.

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

You woke duo a loud crash, most likely metal falling to the floor. You groan and grab your pillow, putting it over your head. How long did you sleep? It could be 5 minutes or 5 hours, who knows.

A soft knock on your door destroys your plan of getting more sleep. You groan once more, making sure whoever is outside knows your pissed.

"What?" You question, voice muffled by the pillow.

"It's just me, dove." John calls back, voice soft like always.

"What?" You repeat, not wanting to have a conversation right now.

"...Please come out, we prepared something for you." John sighs, most likely pressing his forehead against the door like he always dose when trying to get someone to open up.

They prepared something?

you sigh and very slowly crawl out of bed to unlock your door.

John almost laughs as he sees your state, still in work clothes but very messy, even your hair is a mess.

"Don't even start." You warn him.

John raises his hands in mock surrender, smile on his lips. "Why don't you get changed, something comfy."

Another sigh leaves your lips as you close the door, right in his face.

You change into your pj's, the most comfy thing you own. You open the door again and John is still standing there. With a hand on your back he leads you to a battlefield, or that's just what it looks like. In reality it's just the kitchen in a very messy state. The smell of food fills the air and Kyle appears, a almost shy smile on his face.

"Listen, we really tried to make you food, we really did, but..we kind of failed." He laughs and takes your hand, guiding you towards the couch.

Lots of blankets and pillows, popcorn in a huge bowl and Johnny and Simon already in their seats.

"So we got Pizza, your favorite." He smiles and brings you to johnny, making you sit between him and Simon.

Johnny is immediately clinging to your side, chin on your shoulder as he smiles up at you. "You dinnae have to say why you're upset, you just have to relax an' enjoy the food we got you."

You simply nod, touched by their actions. Almost on cue your stomach starts growling, reminding you that you skipped lunch.

"Got thing we got this then." John smiles and places the carton of Pizza on your lap.

"thanks.." You mumble and pick up one piece, enjoying every second.

After a short bit of silence conversations started flowing like usually. Everyone was eating pizza while watching a movie of your choice, throwing in a comment every now and then.

"I lost the cooking thing at work." You mumble, quietly but loud and enough for them to hear.

It was funny watching Johnnys face, the pure shock on his face.

"You? Wha-?" His mouth opens and closes like a fish.

"How is that even possible?" Kyle questions, showing a bit of popcorn into his mouth.

"The winner was the bosses son." You shrug, watching all of them connect the dots.

"Well you definitely won our votes." Simon confirms, watching the way your eyes light up.

"So you would't mind having to be lab rats for my next time cooking?" You smile and this time watch as all their eyes light up.

"Not at all, it would be an honor." John confirms.

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

a/n: not proof read!! Like always i gave up towards the end :))

[wordsmeetwbb]

Not Just Friends

Word count: 1.8k

Content: fluff

Pairing: Pazzi

Notes: I needed a break from writing smut so here's a little something about Paige and Azzi figuring out they're gay! Obviously we don't know how this happened (if it happened, but let's be honest. they play women's basketball. the odds are high.), but this is just my take on how I think those realizations would have gone. Enjoy, and as always, let me know what you think!

________

Paige was 16 when she realized that what she felt for Azzi was more than just friendship. It was August, just over a year after they had met during USA basketball. They had settled into a routine over the summer. Although they were separated by half the country, they were closer than ever.

Every evening around eight o’clock, Paige Facetimed Azzi. More often than not, Azzi picked up on the first ring and they stayed on the call until one of them (Azzi) fell asleep. Paige missed Azzi with every fiber of her being, but she knew she was lucky to talk to Azzi as much as she did. She felt lucky that Azzi wanted to talk to her as much as she did.

On one of those Facetime calls, late into the night, Paige was yapping to Azzi while the brunette struggled to keep her eyes open. Really, it wasn’t Azzi’s fault. It was nearly two in the morning and Paige hadn’t stopped talking since midnight. She had tried to annoy Azzi into staying awake for a while, but then she felt bad and let the tired girl drift off, content to provide background noise with the endless amount of stories she wanted to tell Azzi.

“And then she like, she just fuckin’ chopped it! All of it! Like a foot of hair, Az. And I was like, ‘That’s crazy,’ and she was like ‘Not all of us have emotional attachments to our hair, Paige,’ but that’s not fair. I’m not emotionally attached, I’m just picky about my gameday hair, y’know?” Paige rambled to a mostly unconscious Azzi.

“Mhm,” Azzi mumbled. Through the screen, Paige could see the way the younger girl was nestled into the pile of blankets on her bed, clutching a unicorn stuffed animal. She smiled softly.

“Anyway, she tried to tell me I should cut my hair. And obviously, I said no, because how am I gonna do gameday braids with a fucking pixie cut, right? But she just wouldn’t let up so-” Paige cut herself off when she saw Azzi’s face relax. If she really thought about it, the reason she talked so much on these calls was because she knew Azzi fell asleep easier with background noise. And if she was extra motivated by the way the younger girl looked so peaceful in her sleep, well, that was her business and no one else’s.

Paige’s eyes traced every curve, line, and crease of Azzi’s face. Her skin glowed even in the dim room, the color darker than usual from the time she’d spent in the summer sun. Paige was confident that if she had any artistic ability whatsoever she’d be able to draw Azzi perfectly from memory. The way her eyelashes rested on her cheeks with her eyes closed, the light pink tint to her nose from a little too much time outside, the curve of her plump lips- Paige had it all memorized.

Paige hated ruining these soft moments where she just got to look at Azzi without the younger girl complaining about it, but as her eyes wandered around her face a thought popped into her head.

I’ve never looked at a guy like this. Paige paused, gaze stuck on Azzi’s perfectly curved eyebrows. What an odd thing to notice. A second thought. Paige wasn’t used to thinking during these Facetimes. She didn’t think she liked it, but the ideas seemed to have opened some kind of floodgates. More observations came pouring into her subconscious.

Her lips look so soft. I wonder what they feel like. Her eyes are such a pretty shade of brown, I wish I could see them right now. I’ve never felt like this about a friend.

Paige took a deep breath, startled by her train of thought. None of the thoughts surprised her. That was the whole problem. Azzi’s eyes were pretty, and her lips did look soft, and Paige did wonder what they felt like. She just hadn’t realized she thought any of those things.

Paige thought back to a few weeks ago when one of the girls on her team had been talking about her crush on some guy in the grade above them. The things her teammate had said about that guy had sounded a lot like everything Paige was thinking about Azzi.

Oh, Paige thought. I like Azzi.

It wasn’t anything revolutionary. Paige was pretty sure she had always liked Azzi. She just hadn’t known it. It wasn’t until nearly a year later when she and Azzi finally confessed their feelings to each other that Paige thought about what liking Azzi meant for herself.

“You never came out to me!” Azzi had exclaimed. Paige had frozen, staring at Azzi and really, truly not understanding.

“Come out to you?” she repeated. Azzi nodded, eyebrows drawing together.

“Yeah, like, are you bi? Lesbian? I came out to you months ago and I’ve been thinking you’re straight since we met, P,” she explained, looking at Paige like this was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Oh,” Paige said dumbly. Azzi just stared at her. “Uh, I guess I didn’t really think about it. Like, the whole not being straight thing. I just know I like you,” Paige shrugged. Azzi had blushed, the color intoxicating on her skin.

“You’re an idiot,” she said, pushing Paige’s shoulder gently. Paige just grinned.

“As long as I can be your idiot.”

________

Azzi learned she was gay at three in the morning on a Thursday when she was 16. It had, in a very cliche fashion, been a dream that sparked the realization.

She had woken up, breathing hard, the blankets feeling far too hot, with memories of soft lips on hers taking up far too much space in her mind. She threw the blankets off, sitting straight up in bed, and had a full-blown gay panic.

The longer she sat there, the more pieces of the dream came back to her. At first, it was just gentle lips on her own, and then soft blonde hair running through her fingers, and then it progressed to memories of warm pale skin under her hands. Azzi squeezed her eyes shut.

“Shut up, shut up, shut up,” she demanded to her brain. The clock was creeping closer to four in the morning, she had to be up for school in two hours, and she was being terrorized by completely non-platonic thoughts of her best friend. Azzi flopped face-down onto her bed and let out a scream into her pillow, realizing too late that the rest of her household was still sleeping and might have heard it.

Feeling frustratingly awake and completely insane, Azzi grabbed her phone off her nightstand and navigated into a new Google tab. “What does a dream about kissing someone mean?” she searched first. The results were straightforward, bluntly informing Azzi that dreams of kissing someone usually meant that you had romantic feelings for that person. That brought up new questions.

“How to know if I like girls?” was her next search. It was a ridiculous idea to Azzi. She had had crushes on boys before. Hell, she’d dated a boy in middle school, and as much as that wasn’t a real relationship, it definitely proved that she liked guys. So why the hell was she having a dream about kissing her best friend who was a girl? It didn’t make any sense.

“Why do I want to kiss a girl if I like guys?” Azzi tried, hoping that somebody on Reddit had the same problem as she did. Shockingly, there was a result. That’s how Azzi Fudd learned about bisexuality, and suddenly things made a lot more sense.

She tried to bring it up to Paige on their nightly Facetime that day, but Paige was being frustratingly dense.

“Hey, Paige? Have you ever thought about, like, dating somebody?” Azzi started. Paige startled, looking incredibly uncomfortable.

“Uh, yeah. But not like, for real. Don’t really wanna date people because like, ew, right? Anyway, I was thinking that next year-” Azzi, feeling disproportionately upset, ended the call. Mere seconds later, her phone was ringing with another Facetime from Paige. She let it ring for a while, wanting Paige to know that she hung up on purpose. Finally, she clicked to accept the call.

“What the hell, Az? I was telling you a story,” Paige complained. Azzi glared at her.

“And I was trying to tell you something, too.” Paige looked confused.

“But you asked me a question.”

“Yeah. Have you ever heard of a leading question, dumbass? I was using it as an intro to something,” Azzi grumbled. Paige had the decency to look at least a little bit sorry.

“That’s my bad, Az. It was just kind of a weird topic. Sorry, you can tell me whatever you were going to. I won’t even interrupt this time,” Paige apologized. Azzi swallowed, losing her nerve now that the moment had been drawn out so much.

“I just… uh. I wanted to tell you that I learned about something,” she said, mouth unbearably dry. Paige nodded, prompting her to go on. “You know that people can like guys and girls?” Azzi blurted out. Paige’s eyebrows shot up, surprise coloring her face, but she nodded slowly. Azzi could feel her hands shaking. She knew Paige was religious, but she was suddenly considering that this could end negatively. She didn’t give herself time to consider that outcome.

“I’m bisexual,” Azzi said quickly. She felt like her heart might beat right out of her chest. Paige looked at her for a moment, studying her through the phone. Azzi shifted uncomfortably. “Can you say something?” She asked, tone unsure. Paige cleared her throat, expression softening. Azzi felt her body relax immediately, just from noticing the change in Paige’s body language.

“You know I’m proud of you for telling me, right?” Paige asked. Azzi blinked. That was not the response she was expecting.

“You’re… proud of me?” she repeated. Paige nodded, the movement jerky through the screen. A smile spread across Azzi’s face.

“Thanks, Paige.” Paige just nodded again, a small smile on her face now.

So, from the time Azzi had the dream of kissing Paige (the first of many) to the time she came out to the blonde, her gay crisis lasted about 16 hours. When she thought about it later, years down the road, she thought it made complete sense. Azzi overthought every single thing in her life except Paige. Realizing she was bisexual was easy because it was Paige. The girl who talked her ear off on calls every night, who sent her iMessage games at ungodly hours, who always knew how to comfort her. Just Paige. Liking Paige made perfect sense.

[corseque]

I honestly just wanted one single plot step that I could not predict given the 10 year wait. More behind the cut, I talk about Emet too, and I'm comparing his writing favorably to Solas' writing and why it worked better for me personally, but I am just talking about the writing skill that went into the games and not the dudes themselves, I love them both dearly of course. idk this is a mess and I am not going to edit it for clarity

For me, the game was a series of me saying

"ok I knew that. cool."

"oh yeah, I knew that. I guess it's good that the larger fandom knows about that now."

"nice, but yeah I already knew that too"

"that was something we've been talking about a lot for years"

"this thing they are acting like is a huge enormous reveal that the characters could not possibly have deduced through simply thinking about it in depth over the 10 years... the fans easily figured out by thinking about it in depth 10 years ago. So you would think his girlfriend would be able to figure it out more easily than we did. Like, why couldn't the game have been like 'oh lavellan already figured that out a while ago' it would have cost them nothing"

"this is something I've been thinking about for years, and now that it's being revealed, the companions' reactions to it are very irritating and jarring and unnecessary and I really dislike the experience I'm having right now, in this, the hour of my greatest triumph"

"this thing that is happening on my screen right now is something that I wrote an essay about 2 years ago describing how it would be a letdown if it happened without the correct setup"

"this way that they're characterizing Solas makes him less likable and less interesting than I have been finding him for all these years, and I have had people tell me 'no, he's simpler than you think' for years but I guess I was wrong, he really is simpler than I thought, so that fucking sucks. I wish I could take that information out of my brain."

"this thing is a retcon of information I have been thinking about for 10 years, and so I don't know how to follow along with this new direction, and I'm not sure if I even want to because it's not particularly interesting anyway"

"aw that was sweet"

"why is it like, so very impossible to have an honest back-and-forth with my favorite character about the dilemma that was most interesting to me about the previous game"

and then, as soon as, like, the other fans had caught up to the Solas lore that was really obvious from the other games, the game was.... over without anything surprising happening, or introducing a new element or plot point or perspective, or a real true twist (or two, or three) for those of us who have thought about it too hard for too long. It was very simple and easy, much, much, much, much easier than I was imagining. It all felt sort of like that Nicholson quote:

The thing was, the whole story was so interesting to think about because in 10 years, I couldn't figure out a good solution to it!!!!! It's why I was never able to write post-game fanfic about it. So I was stoked to find out some reveal we never knew about, some new information, in maybe a SERIES of steps of new information, that made the situation more complicated but also something that could be navigated by everyone involved. I know it was asking for a lot, but they had TEN YEARS, and they seemingly had set up the things they did in DAI on purpose, so surely they had some idea of a complex and satisfying narrative that would reconcile everyone.

The reason why I was expecting this is because FFXIV did a very similar story arc, which was started AND concluded WITHIN those 10 years (so it took the FFXIV team far less time to deliver as well). And the conclusion to the story in FFXIV did what I was expecting Dragon Age to do. So I thought, "holy shit, if this is the FFXIV version of this plot, how much more complicated is DA4 going to be!?!?" The DA devs also PLAYED FFXIV so they were completely aware, several years ago, of a satisfying story ending that was pretty darn similar.

People are probably going to think "oh, well Chelsea was disappointed because she spent too much time building it up in her head" but that's exactly it - I actually speculated and thought about FFXIV's story IN DEPTH NONSTOP for a year+ before its ending came out, and the ending absolutely blew me away. FFXIV Endwalker managed to introduce information and new story elements that I was not able to figure out in the YEAR I spent speculating on the ending of FFXIV's story. It took a complicated situation and revealed several several more facets to it that I was not able to predict, but were very interesting and thematically compelling, and took us all to surprising and climactic places that we could not have predicted.

Endwalker ("end" is in the title on purpose) too, was written to be THE ULTIMATE SATISFYING ENDING for a very long-running story in the exactly way that Veilguard SHOULD HAVE for Dragon Age, so while this complexity is being explored, FFXIV also gave catharsis to many different plot threads that have been built up through the previous expansions, until finally it ends with a bang. The story is desperately good to me, I loved it, it gave me closure for Dragon Age long before Veilguard was even revealed, and going back and looking at its story has made this whole thing far less painful for me.

So, I actually did not have a picture in my mind for how things SHOULD go. I just had the thought "I hope it's complicated and there are points of view or facts that we haven't before been exposed to, and the situation is resolved respectfully for Solas, not making him look like a fucking idiot (lol, the only thing I asked for). I don't even care what happens to Solas and Lavellan, I just need the story to be complicated and interesting to think about. Please, god, don't let it be "solas is wrong and he just needs to be convinced" because that's like the simplest story you could tell with this setup"

(btw they managed to tell Emet-Selch's story without making him seem like he's being an idiot on purpose or can never get anything right, and in fact the more the story goes on, the more you think of him as smart and capable and cool, so it is possible to write.... I wasn't asking for the entire moon)

And I played it and... yeah. Most of the story beats were more simple than I wanted them to be, a lot of them didn't make sense in my heart given the writing from Inquisition. (This is another essay, but if Solas' thematic story arc was always about him needing to let go of regrets, why was his personal quest the way it was? After that quest, doesn't he end up regretting not doing more....? Why did he never really talk about regret during Inquisition? If he was so trapped by regret, why was he able to do so many actions? It doesn't mesh well to me. The whole regret thing was very quarter-baked to me, I don't even like thinking about it.) His story never seemed like one that was as simple as being about one man's regrets, but then, I guess, it was always just about one man's regrets.

Emet-Selch's personal storyline (and the way it interacts with and affects the larger story) is very similar but much more cohesive and satisfying to me. It would be difficult to explain why without the aforementioned 5-hour essay. Emet-Selch's story IS about grief and anguish on a world-shaping scale in a similar way that Solas' was apparently always about letting go of regret, but Emet's story was also very pointedly and beautifully about that one theme for the entirety of his story from every tiny detail, from beginning to end - meanwhile, it seemed to me that they tried to introduce 'regret' as the main thrust of Solas' story only in the short story with the Regret demon onward.

From Inquisition just by itself, the closest I personally could get to a story theme for Solas was his inability to trust others hurting him and the world, but his trusting others in DA4 wasn't really addressed to my satisfaction. He is never required to trust anyone before the ending, he never opens up or makes himself vulnerable at all. People find out information about him, he never really dynamically opens himself. So the personal story I thought he had was never addressed at all, while a new one about regret was introduced that never made a ton of sense to me. And I don't think this is just because of my expectations - my reaction to FFXIV proves that I am able to meet good writing where it goes in surprising directions, as long as it's interesting and thoughtful and clear.

And I think this might be part of what people felt was off about the ending - Solas is sort of uninvolved in the revelations that are about him, and doesn't do much to be part of his own ending. Part of what I loved about Solas in Inquisition is that he is not controlled by you in any way, and so he feels like his own person with a very strong sense of character.

Anyway, Emet-Selch, in a very comparable and arguably more extreme plot position, is very involved in the revelations about himself, he always feels like a very strong character who cannot be affected by the player, and the whole situation is handled with deft emotion and care and delicacy. The story is comparatively very uninterested in litigating Emet-Selch or putting him on trial - the story allows you to simply feel the way that you feel in an organic way, and Emet's story spends that energy instead actually exploring his thematic material about grief and legacy, and the larger story theme of existentialism instead, in a way that is very refreshing and interesting. I've seen a lot of western stories tie themselves in knots over "redemption" and frankly it's almost never been interesting at all. Who cares about any of that. lol

(Now, I guess this is a matter of preference, because some people really like being able to shape a character's story, but idk I rewatched the ending of FFXIV and even though there wasn't a choice with Emet, because it isn't a branching story, his story felt more satisfying to me, maybe because there isn't a patronizing choice to be made for him. He is who he is, and he fulfills a very beautiful narrative role and purpose that no other character could in the story.)

I don't know how this could have been improved to me and still allowed players to choose Solas' ending for him, but I can actually think of a few different methods, none of which involve Rook condescendingly and patronizingly lecturing Solas as if Solas had never thought about a single aspect of this horrible situation he's in before that very moment that Rook lectures him lmfao.

All this to say... idk I'm writing this and I am not going back to edit it so it's stream-of-consciousness. But yeah

I just wanted the story to be complicated on a few more levels than I could have predicted. I genuinely don't care what happened, but I thought of a few twists like the Veil coming down and yeah, I was expecting A Single Twist or reveal to happen. In a Dragon Age game.

I wanted Solas to seem cool and capable and noble and smart, and actually feel like he was as old and experienced as he is.

I wanted a clear theme I could sink my teeth into

Like notice I didn't even say anything about Solavellan. Like I never in 100 years thought they were getting a happy ending where they were both alive in bodies, and I like that we got that, but I would honestly trade it for a more complicated story. To me, if a story is sad you can always write fanfic, but if a story isn't COMPLICATED, that's a much more urgent issue.

These 3 things DA4 didn't give me in a way that satisfied me but FFXIV did. anyway idk the way my hyperfixations work, I completely switch to a new subject so talking about Dragon Age is actually hard for me right now.

[mxtxfanatic]

Everyone keeps on saying that Lan Xichen may be an ignorant fool, but at least he is a good brother to Lan Wangji and a good friend to Jin Guangyao and Nie Mingjue, but is that really true?

Lan Xichen allowed the Lan Clan to participate in the First Siege of the Burial Mounds, after he knew of Lan Wangji’s feelings for Wei Wuxian. He even told Jin Guangyao of Lan Wangji’s feelings for Wei Wuxian, which Jin Guangyao later on used against Lan Wangji in Guanyin Temple.

And when Nie Mingjue told Lan Xichen about how he was stabbed by Jin Guangyao, he just ignored his warnings. Jin Guangyao doesn't even like Nie Mingjue either at that point, not to mention Nie Mingjue also wanted to kill Jin Guangyao several times too. And yet Lan Xichen still wanted the two of them to get along, knowing what had happened in between them.

What do you think about this?

Unfortunately, Lan Xichen has a type of smug, overconfident ignorance I like to call “mother knows best” syndrome: he thinks that he is the most rational person in a group of people who all seem (to him) to be operating at extremes, so it is up to him to play moderator and peacemaker as the “least biased” person. On top of that, because he thinks of himself as the “most rational” person, he also easily justifies disregarding the opinions or knowledge of others as “uninformed” if it doesn’t fit into his own view of things. And tbf, no one had ever challenged him on it in the story until Wei Wuxian’s resurrection. @jiangwanyinscatmom actually had a really good meta about how the story of the Twin Jades’ parents actually affect Lan Xichen’s ideas around reliability/rationality in regards to romances vs. friendships, but I’ve never approached it from that angle to be able to explain it as eloquently as they have.

What I will say is that as bad as those above character flaws are—and we see how badly they implode on him by the end of the novel—what makes it sad is that unlike other characters, Lan Xichen is actually trying to do right by his friends and family. He saw how close Nie Mingjue and Jin Guangyao were prior to Jin Guangyao’s betrayal and wanted them to regain that closeness. He saw how much Lan Wangji appeared to change around Wei Wuxian and encouraged that relationship until it seemed like Wei Wuxian was actually harming his brother, instead. In another setting, Lan Xichen’s ego could have just been addressed through actual conversation, but instead he got stuck with Jin Guangyao early on—who was the #1 driver of every bad thing that ever happened to Lan Xichen—and his refusal to accept anyone else’s input that differed from his own led to the deaths of real people. And now he has to live with that, but the good thing is that he does.

[himbo-kuto]

the tv was playing in the background as you were mindlessly scrolling on your phone. it was a lazy sunday afternoon in skyhaven and you and caleb decided to spend the day doing nothing. he had been twirling the ends of your hair around his finger for who knows how long at this point, half listening to what you had put on earlier. he was just happy to be in your presence. 

you left out a huff as you locked your phone and looked up at him from his lap. 

“done scrolling?” you were silent as you turned toward him, crossing your arms soon after. your eyes scanned his face, down his neck, shoulders, chest and finally your gaze settled on his arms. he was wearing one of those muscle tees with the sleeves cut off and as much as you tried to help yourself, you always caught yourself looking. caleb may be a fool for you, but he was no fool when it came to you. he bought a bunch of shirts just to rip the sleeves off of them in hopes he would catch you looking at his arms again.

“like what you see?” he leaned in closer to you, a shit eating grin dancing on his lips for catching you in the act. you immediately averted your eyes, but your reddened cheeks were a dead give away. 

“shut up..” he took your chin between your fingers, tilting upwards to catch your lips in a chaste kiss. 

“you can look all you want, honey. they’re all yours” you stuck your tongue out at him, glancing over to his arms once again and before you could even think, you leaned over and gave his bicep a big old bite. he yelped in surprise, but laughed as he looked down at you. 

“what are you doing! get off of me!” you quickly sat up and straddled his lap as you began to give his arms little love bites. his arms were soft, squishy and some might describe as… beefy. 

“they’re just so yummy looking, I have to give them a little nibble!” you continued your antics, laughing out loud as you moved up to his neck and shoulders. caleb was over the moon as he laughed along with you. he missed these moments with you– just being stupid with your laughter filling up the room.

he managed to grab your hips, pushing them back so you were sitting on his lap. you took it as your sign to stop. you wiped the stray tears from your eyes from laughing too hard before your vision cleared and when your gaze met his, you swear you felt your heart skip a beat. his cheeks were slightly flushed, hair disheveled, the quickened rise and fall of his chest– when you two were teens and he had the same look whenever you decided to mess with him. 

you took his cheeks within the palms of your hands and shifted his gaze onto yours. moments like these came and went when you were with him. moments when you would think about how you spent those grueling months after his alleged death, how you never thought you were going to see him again, but here he was, in the flesh. your thumbs stroked his cheeks gently, feeling the texture of his skin from the explosion. he was insecure about it, but it was one of things that reminded you that he was real and you loved him even more for it. there was a shift in his expression, one of innocent curiosity. 

“what is it?” you didn’t speak, you just continued to gaze on to his features.  it was only after you scanned his whole face that you gazed into his eyes, running your fingers through his hair to fix the mess you had made of it. his eyes closed instinctively, relishing in your touch. 

“nothing. i’m just really glad that you’re here is all.” you placed a small kiss onto his forehead before leaning your forehead against his. it was your turn to close your eyes. you could feel how his arms held you safely within his embrace and how his hands were steady on your hips. he prided himself on keeping you safe, and you knew it too.

god, how could he have been away from you for so long? he gave your hips a gentle squeeze as his eyes partially opened to see your face. your expression was calm and vulnerable, almost how you looked like when you sleep.. his arms reached up to your back, pulling you in for a longing embrace. 

if caleb could absorb you he would, wanting to absolve any distance between the two of you. he breathed in the scent of your shampoo that smelled faintly of apples he buried his face into your neck. a shudder went down your spine, reciprocating the same amount of intensity. you tried pulling him as close as humanly possible to your chest, you could feel the heat that was radiating off his body. you cradled his head against your cheek, carding your fingers through his dark locks once again before placing a kiss onto his temple.

you finally felt him relax into your embrace, his breathing slowed. it took a lot for caleb to fully relax, especially when he was so used to being on high alert. you’re sure what he has been through in the past couple of months couldn’t have made that easy for him. so you were just going to hold him until he tells you to let go. he listened to the faint sound of your heart beat; you were here and you were real. almost like you were reading his mind, you smile softly as you look down at his calm figure.

“you don’t have to worry anymore caleb, im here and i’m not going anywhere.” 

🎤 hello is this thing on? crazy how it's been 3 years since i've last posted, but IM BACK KINDA? i really want to get into writing again this year and sO this is my introduction back into that!! i hope y'all enjoy this caleb fluff and here's to more!!!

[aubvrns]

just on time, sweetheart

| wanda maximoff x reader

Synopsis - You were running late because you missed your alarm. Who knew that a simple mishap could be met with connections from the past?

Note - i’m happy so lemme hurt you a bit #sadist

You weren't the type of student to be irresponsible.

You just happened to miss the aggravating sound of your alarm. It was just one of those mornings where your blanket feels much softer than it was when you slept. You bolted through the university halls, your bag bouncing against your back as you struggled to catch your breath. Your alarm betrayed you, and now sprinting to your second period, a strict voice cuts the uncomfortable silence.

"You're late, Miss Y/L/N."

You cursed under your breath and turned around, facing the disapproving gaze of Professor Fury. You had no excuses, not really. No one would believe that your alarm clock had miraculously decided to rebel against you this morning.

"Guidance office," The professor ordered, tapping his pen against his clipboard.

You groaned inwardly. Just great, you thought.

You turned on your heels and dragged yourself towards the guidance office, mood already sour. The last thing you needed was another lecture about punctuality and responsibility. As you pushed the heavy door open, you barely glanced at the person seated inside—until your gaze locked onto a pair of all-too-familiar green eyes.

Wanda Maximoff.

Your breath hitched, like you forgot how to breath. You heart slammed against your ribs, and for a moment, you wondered if the universe was playing some kind of cruel joke on you. The girl who had once whispered forever into her skin.

The girl who had shattered you. The girl who was now sitting right across from you, looking just as stunned.

A beat of silence stretched between them—thick, heavy, suffocating.

Then, the Dean cleared his throat. "Miss Y/L/N, since you have time to be late, you have time to be useful. Our new transfer student, Miss Maximoff, needs a tour of the campus. You’ll be her guide for the day."

Your blood ran cold.

The Dean continued, oblivious to the storm brewing between you two. "You'll show her around, make sure she knows where everything is. Understood?"

You forced herself to nod. Words were a foreign concept right now, especially when Wanda’s gaze was still piercing into her, unblinking, unreadable.

The Dean dismissed himself, and before you could think of an excuse, you found yourself stepping out into the hallway with Wanda right beside you. The silence stretched, clinging like ghosts.

Finally, Wanda spoke. "You look different."

You let out a humorless chuckle. "To you, maybe."

Wanda flinched, just barely, but you caught it. And for the first time in years, you felt something close to satisfaction.

It was going to be a long day.

-

The tour was hell.

Every hallway, every classroom—they all held the weight of things left unsaid, of a past neither of them had completely buried. You led Wanda through the university, pointing out the library, the gym, the best place to get coffee. You kept your words clipped, distant, careful.

You didn’t want to remember. But memories had a funny way of creeping in, uninvited.

"Do you still drink too much coffee?" Wanda asked suddenly, her voice softer than before.

You clenched your jaw. "Some things never change."

A flicker of something crossed Wanda’s face— regret? Guilt? You weren’t sure, and you didn’t care to find out.

"You were always late in high school too," Wanda mused. "I used to wake you up."

You swallowed hard. "Well, you’re not here to do that anymore, are you?"

The redhead didn’t respond, but you felt her gaze linger. It was the same way she used to look at you—like she saw through the walls you tried to build. Like she still remembered.

You hated it. Because you remembered too.

The remembrance of Wanda’s laughter in the morning, the way she used to tug you closer under the covers, whispering nonsense just to make you smile. You remembered Wanda’s hands, warm and certain, tracing constellations on your skin. You remembered the way Wanda had said, “I love you,” like it was a promise.

A promise that she had broken.

You clenched your fists, blinking back the sting behind your eyes. You wouldn't give Wanda the satisfaction of knowing you still cared.

You didn't.

Not anymore.

-

The tour ended at the courtyard, beneath the massive oak tree where students gathered between classes. It was the kind of place that should’ve been peaceful. But with Wanda beside you, the air felt suffocating.

"You don’t have to act like this, you know," Wanda said finally, her voice quiet.

You exhaled sharply. "Like what?"

"Like I never meant anything to you."

You turned to face her, something sharp curling in your chest. "You broke up with me, Wanda. You fell for someone else. What exactly do you expect from me?"

Wanda flinched, and you hated that she still cared enough to notice.

"Vision wasn’t—" Wanda hesitated, then sighed. "I thought you never took us seriously.”

"You thought wrong."

The words came out colder than you intended, but you didn’t regret them. Wanda searched your face, your expression unreadable. "I’m sorry."

You almost laughed. "You don’t get to be sorry." And just like that, the dam inside her cracked just a little.

Because the truth was, you had stayed. You had waited, you had hoped. You had watched as Wanda chose someone else, as if everything meant nothing. And now, she was supposed to pretend like everything was fine? Like the past didn’t still dig its claws into your heart?

You wouldn’t give Wanda the satisfaction. So instead, you turned on her heels and walked away. You walked furiously, each step slowly detaching yourself from the past

“Y/N, please.”

You didn’t look back. You refused to let yourself be vulnerable again.

But you knew Wanda’s was on your back, lingering like a wound that had never truly healed. Like an echo of something that still, somehow, refused to fade.

-

The wind was colder than usual, sending a shiver down your spine as you hurried across campus. The weight of Wanda’s gaze still lingered on you like a phantom touch, unwelcome and yet impossible to ignore.

You had thought you were over this. Over her.

You had spent years convincing herself that the past was just that—the past. But the second you saw Wanda sitting in that office, looking at her like she wasn’t a shattered remnant of what they once were, something inside her cracked. Not Wanda looking at her like she regretted it. Like she missed her.

You shook her head, trying to push the thoughts away. You weren’t going to do this. You weren’t going to let Wanda drag you back into a storm you barely survived the first time.

As you reached the hallway towards your locker, you heard your name.

"Y/N."

An all-too familiar voice called you. You clenched your jaw before turning, already knowing who you’d see.

Wanda stood a few feet away, arms crossed, shifting on her feet like she was hesitating. You arched a brow. "What do you want?"

Wanda hesitated, then sighed. "You’re mad."

You let out a hollow laugh. "Mad? No. That would mean I still care."

A flicker of something passed across Wanda’s face—hurt, maybe. "You never used to lie to me," Wanda murmured, almost like it was an afterthought.

You inhaled sharply. "That was before you made me question everything that came out of your mouth."

Silence stretched between them. The kind that wasn’t comfortable anymore.

"I didn’t want to do this here," Wanda muttered, running a hand through her hair. "But I don’t want to keep pretending either."

You scoffed. "That’s rich, coming from you." Wanda flinched, and for a moment, you almost felt guilty.

"You really think I didn’t love you?" Wanda asked, voice quieter now, like she wasn’t sure she wanted the answer.

Your heart clenched, but you forced herself to stay distant. "I think that whatever we had wasn’t enough for you."

Wanda’s jaw tensed. "That’s not fair."

You took a step forward, and before you could stop herself, the words spilled out. "You left me, Wanda. You left us. And for what? Someone who didn’t even know you the way I did? Someone who didn’t—" She cut herself off, swallowing hard.

Wanda’s gaze softened. "Y/N…"

"Don’t," you sternly said.

Because if Wanda said your name like that again—like you still mattered—you weren’t sure you’d be able to keep standing.

"I never stopped loving you."

You clenched your fists. You didn’t believe it, because if you did, it would destroy you all over again.

-

For days, you did your best to avoid Wanda.

You took different routes to class, skipped places you knew Wanda might be, and buried herself in your studies. It should’ve been easy.

But then came the moments in between.

A glimpse of red hair across the courtyard. The sound of laughter that sounded too much like Wanda’s. The feeling of her eyes lingering on you when you weren’t looking. You hated how much space Wanda still took up in her mind.

Even now, as you sat in the back of the lecture hall, you could feel it. The ache of something unresolved. And then, as if the universe enjoyed watching you suffer, the professor spoke.

"You’ll be working in pairs for this project," he announced. "I’ll be assigning the partners."

You barely heard the names being called. You were too busy trying to focus on your breathing. There were at least twenty students in this class. There was no way you would get partnered with her.

"And lastly," the professor continued, flipping a page. "Y/L/N and Maximoff."

Your stomach dropped. The room blurred at the edges as you slowly turned your head, but Wanda was already looking at you.

And the worst part, she didn’t even look surprised.

"I can switch partners," you said as soon as class ended, already standing from your seat.

Wanda caught your hand, feeling her slightly caress your wrist, just like how she used to. "No, you won’t."

The touch burned. Not in the way it used to, soft and safe. But in a way that made you feel like she was drowning in everything she had tried to forget.

You pulled your arm back. "This isn’t going to work."

Wanda tilted her head. "Why? Because you still hate me?"

You exhaled sharply. "Because I don’t trust you."

For a second, something flickered in Wanda’s eyes— hurt, maybe. But then she straightened. "We don’t have to like each other to work together."

You clenched her fists. "Fine. But don’t expect anything more from me."

A small, bitter smile tugged at Wanda’s lips. "I never do."

You turned away before Wanda could see the way that sentence wrecked you. Because once upon a time, you had given Wanda everything. Every piece of yourself.

And in the end, it still hadn’t been enough.

-

You had been sitting beneath the old oak tree, headphones in, pretending to study. But the second Wanda sat down beside you, everything inside you tensed. Your eyes didn���t look up, didn’t acknowledge her. Maybe if you ignored Wanda long enough, she would just disappear from your life.

"Are you going to avoid me forever?" Wanda’s voice was quiet, but there was a sharpness underneath it.

You sighed, closing your book. "I don’t see why it matters to you."

"Of course it matters." Wanda hesitated, then softer, "You still matter."

You clenched her jaw. "Don’t," you warned, turning to face Wanda for the first time in days. "Don’t say things you don’t mean."

Wanda exhaled, looking down at her hands. "That’s the problem, Y/N. I meant everything."

You scoffed, bitter. "Right. You meant it when you said you loved me. And then you meant it when you chose someone else."

Wanda flinched but didn’t look away. "You think that’s what happened?"

You stared at her, feeling something in your chest twist painfully. "Isn’t it?" A silence stretched between them—thick, heavy, suffocating.

And then, Wanda spoke.

"I never fell out of love with you." The words were barely above a whisper, but they hit you like a thunderclap.

Your breath caught, your heart pounding as you forced herself to stay still. "Then why?" you asked, your voice almost breaking. "Why did you leave me for him?"

Wanda swallowed hard, looking at you like she wanted to reach out, but didn’t. "Because I thought I had to."

She let out a shaky breath. "You never saw it, but my family was struggling. My father lost his job, my mother was barely holding things together, and I was scared. Vision—he had connections, opportunities. My mother thought if I was with him, I’d have a better future. A stable life. And I was stupid enough to believe that maybe, if I forced myself to feel something for him, I wouldn’t have to lose everything else." Wanda looked away, blinking quickly.

"But I never loved him, Y/N. Not the way I loved you."

You felt like the ground had been pulled out from beneath you. "You broke my heart," she whispered, voice unsteady. "And you didn’t even tell me why."

"I know," Wanda said, voice thick with regret. "And I’m sorry. I’ve been sorry every single day since I walked away."

You inhaled sharply, gripping the edges of your book as if it could keep you steady. You wanted to be angry, to hold on to the bitterness you had nurtured for so long. But now, the truth sat between them, raw and undeniable, unraveling every wall she had built.

And maybe that was the worst part of all.

Because despite everything, despite the pain, despite the years of silence and regret— you still loved her. And you didn’t know if you could stop.

"I need you to know something," Wanda said, voice steady despite the hesitation in her eyes.

"I didn’t come here expecting you to forgive me. I didn’t transfer here hoping we’d just go back to how we were. I know I hurt you, Y/N. And if you never want to see me again after this, I’ll understand. But I can’t leave things the way they are. Not again."

You swallowed, heart in your throat. "Wanda—"

"I love you," Wanda said, voice breaking just slightly. "I never stopped."

You felt something inside her shatter. The walls you had spent so long building crumbled in an instant, leaving nothing but the undeniable truth of what had always been. You could feel the weight of your own feelings pressing against your ribs, too big to contain.

And then, before you could stop herself, you reached for Wanda.

You felt Wanda freeze, breath hitching as your fingers brushed against her wrist—tentative, testing. And then, slowly, Wanda exhaled, tilting her head just slightly, waiting.

One second, there was space between you two, and the next, Wanda was pulling you closer, warm foreheads nearly touching. You could feel Wanda’s breath against your lips, warm and familiar, sending a shiver down your spine.

"Tell me to stop," Wanda whispered, voice trembling. "And I will."

You swallowed hard, hands tightening against Wanda’s jacket. "I don’t want you to." And that was all it took.

Wanda closed the distance, and the second your lips met. You felt the weight of every year, every unspoken word, every heartbreak melt into the kiss. It was desperate and soft and everything in between, full of the years you had lost and the love that had never really left.

When you finally pulled away, Wanda rested her forehead against yours, breathing hard. "I don’t deserve this," she murmured.

You sighed, closing your eyes. "Maybe not. But I think we deserve a second chance."

Wanda let out a soft, shaky laugh, pressing another gentle kiss to your soft lips. "Then let’s not waste it this time."

And just like that, the ghosts of what once was this puddle of hurt finally began to fade.

You weren’t sixteen anymore, lying under the stars and making promises you couldn’t keep.

But maybe this time, you would.

Maybe this time, forever wouldn’t be a lie.

[xa3r1s]

✧⭑----⋆✩⋆-------⋆ ℂℍ𝕀𝕃𝔻𝕀𝕊ℍ 𝔹𝕀ℂ𝕂𝔼ℝ𝕀ℕ𝔾 ♡ [l. donghyuck & l. mark]

⠀⠀ ☆ (⠀ 꽃⠀ ) ...

﹢﹒ ✦⊹﹒..𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖗.: “ MARK LEE & LEE DONGHYUCK ; ✧ ”

✦⊹﹒synopsis:ㅤit wasn't easy being stuck between two flames, especially when those flames are against each other. small arguments were happening here and there but when they both got the same intention with you, you're just completely left helpless, feeling like they teamed up against you. ✦⊹﹒warnings:ㅤnsfw!!, breeding, est. relationship, poly relationship, petnames, cussing, dirty talking, mean-dom!hyuck, mean-dom!mark, doggy, p n v, face fucking, oral, clit play, light spanking, cream pie, unprotected sex, hyuck calls u mommy, it's kinda just all filth im so sorry, multiple orgasms, lmk if i missed anything! ✦⊹﹒word count:ㅤ2,0k

a/n.: never wrote threesome, i don't quite know if this is how it works but enjoy my loves! [also i started working on this sooner than the requests so i'm posting this first]

↩ navigation

↩ bouquet

dealing with only one of them was already a challenge in itself, but making it the two of them? it quickly became an outright a big, hot mess.

treasuring an intense and feral personalities at once was something that could be easily overwhelming considering that you had to deal with their continuous fighting over and over. and once they start the argument just no one backs down really, their ego could crush people with its weight and we’re only scratching the surface.

“a girl? no way man, my genes are designed for a boy.” the younger boy declared proudly at himself, eyes skeptical and scanning the other one right in front of him. you could almost call him sassy with the way he puts his hands on his hips and familiarly scrunches up his nose, waiting -demanding- an answer.

mark on the other hand didn’t let his emotions got a grip of him so easily and stood his ground proudly. his back straightened up, only tilting his head down a few degrees to glance at hyuck through his thin eyelashes. he handled the situation much calmer and went for the root of it, attacking his dignity.

“what? your.. your genes?” the response was muttered, pronouncing the last words with his tone being laced with mocking while his index finger pointed towards hyuck’s chest as a cocky smirk rested on his face.

you never actively tried for a child, knowing these two would make the biggest fuss and argument about who’s child you gonna bear first —actually trying to even ignore the topic whenever it came up—

now, flushed skin and thin layered sweat covered bodies collided on your shared bed with little to no explanation given to you. clothes practically ripped apart and chucked to the other side of the room. the small lamp placed on the bedside table providing only enough light for them to admire your flushed skin rippling with every harsh thrust hyuck was delivering into you. the momentum pushing your mouth deeper on mark’s wildly pulsing cock, eliciting a muffled sound from the overwhelming pleasure you receive all at once on both ends.

they were always so smothering and compassionate, the main focus purely you, your pleasure and your well being shared between them. but now? as if they completely went nuts. it was a very rare sight, —not like you hated it— they saw red, the constant need to be better than the other drove them crazy and it seemed like they loved to take their dopamine out on you.

“shut up and fucking take it-..” he seethed, landing a sudden firm smack on your left cheek keeping up his relentless plowing. his fingers dug into your soft flesh on your ass as it jiggled with every thrust, feeling as if he’s trying to reach your guts, angling his hips for deeper penetration. hand leaving red print on your smooth, supple skin, the moan coming out as a strangled whimper, vibrating right against the other male’s cock stuffed into your pretty mouth, sending pleasurable shiver along his spine.

“d-don’t spank her, asshole..” mark’s eyes shot up with a harsh glare targeted towards hyuck behind you which he rewarded with a faint and throaty chuckle, eyebrows knitted together in concentration. concentrating on knocking you up.

“god-.. i’m trying to put a baby in her.. don’t you see, f-fuck-” his voice wavered with a harsh thrust, making your whole body jolt “.. from your eyes?” hyuck taunted, one hand gripping your waist, pulling you back on his cock with his every forward move, meeting you deeper and deeper even if his tip already brushed your cervix by now.

other hand snaked between your legs, his torso hovering over your back, his mouth coming right by your ear. your felt the familiar rubbing sensations around your clit, your body reacting with your muscles tensing tight.

“‘gonna be a good mommy, hm?” hyuck’s honeyed words made you absolutely melt, a high pitched whimper resonating from your chest straight to mark’s length pistoning eagerly in and out of between your lips. his precum mixed with your saliva dripped on your chin, your jaw aching and throat burning as he fucked you on your other side, the two of them moving in sync. “you’ll be stuffed so full, so fucking full of- my love-..”

“don’t you- don’t you fucking dare to get pregnant from him first-” noticing a sudden harsh grip in your hair, mark’s fingers digging into your scalp and tugging your head off from his throbbing, dripping dick and bending down to meet your eyes. his own burned with lust, his dark irises taking an even deeper shade. “cat’s got your tongue, my sweet whore? answer already..” he urged, placing small pecks and kisses on your jaw in the contrast of his painful grip on your locks. it was embarrassing but god it was so fucking arousing too, sinful blush danced across your face, doing your best to avoid his piercing gaze but no answer came from you, only pathetic whines and moans. —not like he even excepted you to say anything coherent, while being sandwiched between them.

his intense stare got your already needy hole rippling around hyuck instantly gushing on his cock, juices leaking down his shaft and dripping onto the already messy and crumpled white sheets under you. hyuck’s hips stuttered for a second before pushing himself in again, feeling the knot tighten in his lower belly too before snapping and hyuck now gripping your ass with both of his palms, practically slamming you back on himself, quickly sending you into over stimulation.

mark locked your jaw tight into his free hand, forcing you to gaze into his eyes while your body tingled all over. your head spinning and skin burning up as if you’re body is trying to push out hyuck’s stretching dick but his hard grip on your made it challenging to squirm away.

“you gonna take his load, you dirty slut?” venom dripped from the older man’s voice, the jealousy just filling up his veins if hyuck were to indeed impregnate you before him. you reached your head towards his dick dangling right in front of your face, eager to have it fill your warm, slick mouth again, swirling your tongue around it and have him moaning in delight but his hold on your face and fist in your tangled up, messy hair didn’t let you.

“mhm- gonna knock you up, my pretty girl.. you’d love that-” hyuck hissed quietly, teeth grazing your shoulder blades. “i fucking know you want it, you want my seed, huh? well- i’ll give it to you nonetheless, baby.” and with a low grunt, biting down harsh on your skin, warm, white fluid shot in thick ropes deep inside you, making sure to pump it well but still staring in awe at the way it oozed out around his cock from your twitching hole.

“pull out, fuck-face.” mark spat with a gruffy mumble, breaking the soft sound of your whines and moans echoing through the room mingled with hyuck’s fast and unsteady gasps. “you’ve had your fill.” reluctantly, the boy behind you obliged and with a squelching, wet pop he freed himself from your still quivering insides.

donghyuck pulling back to sit on his heels in the intention of pulling himself together after busting such an amount in you, mark was quick to maneuver you with your back facing his chest. one arm snaked around your waist, pulling you in for skin to skin touch, his other arm putting you in a tight headlock. his bicep rippling around your neck, not enough to cut your airflow but certainly enough to make your head even more dizzy, as if it was possible.

“holy shit-.. baby.” he cooed into your ear with fake pity “you look so fucked out already.. how you gonna put up with me?” his arm around your mid section moved to his pulsing and leaky dick, the flushed, red tip nudging your labia apart and squeezing its way deep inside you.

feeling every inch fill you, the ridges and bobbing out veins just scratching your warm walls as his hip stilled, his eyes taking in the amount of seed hyuck dumped into you getting pushed out while he bottomed out.

his strong muscles effectively kept you in place, preventing you from squirming away, your plump lips fell open in an attempt to gasp for air desperately when you felt mark immediately rutting his hips against yours without little to no buildup and hyuck suddenly holding onto your chin, tugging you to meet his lips in a hungry kiss.

he moved his lips against your fiercely, spit mixing and dripping past your mouth, him just absolutely devouring you. while the male behind tormented you with harsh thrusts, your body still tingling from your earlier orgasm, your body unwillingly fighting against their intense love making.

“aren’t i better, sweet thing?” mark’s low and throaty voice caressed your ears while the world spun around you, the only thing connecting you to your consciousness was their words that you barely even registered, drowning in the all consuming pleasure they showered you with. tears stung the corners of your eyes, spilling and rolling down on your flushed, hot cheeks.

while hyuck roughly explored your mouth, his hands came to the soft, meaty globes on your chest, cupping them and squeezing, pushing your breasts together, feeling it enticingly bounce from his torments—and mark’s rough fucking from behind—, made him smile.

“m-markie!” you mewled against the other boy’s lips, eyelids heavy, their sweaty locks dangling in front of their lust coated eyes, drinking up every bit of your expression and pleasure plastered across your features. “please—..”

“close, baby? are you gonna feel my seed deep too against your velvety walls, hm?” quickly locking gazes with hyuck for a few second, he turned his attention back to you, chasing his high like a wild animal in heat.

from your earlier, greedy oral work, mark was already pent up enough to teeter on the edge in the pass of a few minutes, having his abdomen burn with the promise of his release, his pace didn’t falter. your cunt eagerly clenched and fluttered around him, small moans escaping your lips only to have them vibrate against donghyuck’s mouth, aggressively making out with him while experiencing your second, really intense orgasm of the night, blurring your vision as your ears rang and your body felt like burning up.

the room echoed from their synchronized deep grunts and your sobs of pleasure, the bed’s creaking providing a quieter background noise between your moans. after a few, sloppy thrusts, mark shot his load deep into you, the headlock he was having you in tightening in for a few moments while his other hand held a tight grip on your hips as he emptied himself inside, thorough on pumping it in real good.

his cum was thicker, much thicker and there was a lot. just so perfect to impregnate such a pretty, needy pussy. their seeds blending with each other in your still wildly twitching depths, his softening cock stirring up the remained sticky fluid from hyuck, and pushing it out, a small cocky grin plastered on his face as he watched the white droplets track down on your quivering thighs.

you were full. just filled to the brim with their love, devotion and adoration, mostly physically.

your legs threatened to give out and have you fall face front to the crumpled up messy and sticky sheets, your brain turned to absolute mush, head spinning and your body threatening to pass out right there and then.

a drained to no end exhale slipped from your throat, not even noticing how the two men guided you to lay on the soft sheets between them, them trying to catch their breath alongside you but still staring at you in awe. of course, wondering whoever ‘won’ at the end with small smirks etched across their faces.

▚▚ @xa3r1s ▚▚ my works belongs to me! do not translate them, copy them or publish them on another site.

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

“If Chloe caused Marinette’s trauma, then why they’ve United to humiliate Kagami in “Animaestro”?

To be fair, I’ve read a post which was written a long time ago where one user said that Marinette uniting with Chloe to do the same things to Kagami that Chloe was doing to Marinette for years was Out Of Character for her. And this was before the first draft of infamous “Derision” was ever written…

Two things can be true at once. You can criticize Animaestro in the context canon has put it in while also agreeing that it and Derision don't fit the narrative and basically have to be discarded to make any sense of canon. I take both of these stances and will happily explain them.

If Derision was "always the plan," then Animaestro's writing choices make the writers look extra terrible as it means that they had no issues making their lead put another person through the same kind of traumatizing humiliation that she'd gone through herself. Even worse, Marinette inflicts that trauma by willing joining up with the instigator of her own trauma, never once stopping to wonder if this is too far. She's too obsessed with her crush to care about another person's suffering. It's perfectly reasonable to look at these two moments and come away hating her. It's even reasonable to just hate her after Animaestro. That wasn't a good look.

Even if Derision wasn't always the plan, the writers still wrote it after writing Animaestro, not caring how that choice would effect people's view of Marinette's actions. It's not reasonable to expect your audience to disregard one episode in favor of another. People aren't being unfair for taking these two episodes at face value.

If you want to tell a good story, you have to own what you've already written and allow that to limit what ideas work for your story no matter how good they are in a vacuum. Animaestro and Derision are just generally a bad episodes, but they should never coexist unless Marinette is supposed to be seen as a bad person OR Marinette is getting a complex arc around overcoming her trauma and Adrien obsession. It is perfectly fair to ask why we're not getting either of those since the writers chose to make all of this mess canon.

However, I also agree that Marinette's actions in Animaestro are just generally not suited to her character. The show did a terrible job of writing Marinette and Kagami's cat fight over Adrien. Because every conflict had to be established and resolved in 20-minutes or less, Marinette was constantly coming up with random petty, unflattering, and downright insane takes on Kagami. It made Marinette come across like a total mean girl in several season three episodes which sucks when you consider the way the conflict was played in season two. Episodes like Frozer allowed Marinette to have a good balance of jealously and being a good person making her feel realistic, but not a petty mean girl.

In Frozer, Marinette sent Adrigami on a date to the ice rink and went along to help Adrien even though her girl friends told her to back out:

Alya: This is gonna be your worst mess up in history. You have got to get yourself out of this right now. Ideas girls! Quick! Alix: Tell him you'd already promised to hang with your GFs. Rose: Maybe you got lost on the way over? Juleka: Maybe you're gonna go to a concert? Mylène: You had to finish an essay on Periwinkle's migration. Marinette: Actually, girls... I don't think I want to cancel. All Girls: Huh? Marinette: Adrien really needs me and if he wants my advice then why not? After all, it's not an issue and I'm definitely not jealous because... Rose: Because you two love each other. Marinette: Because there's nothing between us. (looks down sadly) Alya: What do you mean nothing between you? Mylène: There's everything between you, actually. Marinette: I always jumble my words around him. So how could I even manage going out on a date? I think we're actually just meant to be friends. Whenever I talk to him as a friend, I hardly stammer at all. That's a sign right there. Right?

And when they were at the rink, Marinette gave Adrien actual good advice:

Adrien: I don't know what to do about Kagami. Should I offer to hold her hand? Marinette: You have to let her fall. Adrien: Huh? Marinette: No, what I actually meant was that you cannot let her fall in any way. I mean, do whatever you can so that she doesn't fall.

If you have to include a petty fight over a boy, this a decent way to do it. Show Marinette struggling, but ultimately doing the right thing. Acknowledge the temptation to sabotage the date, but let her be a good person in the end. Don't go the Animaestro route which makes Marinette come across as both awful and delusional:

Marinette: I'm not too sure about this. Chloé: Fine! Keep on not being sure about it and tomorrow, Adrien and Kagami will be on a plane headed for Japan! Marinette: Adrien? Japan? There's no way! Chloé: You think? They're already going to the movies together, their parents are signing papers together. (camera zooms in on Mrs. Tsurugi in the background, stamping a document with her signature) Marinette: (imagines Adrien and Kagami on a plane and dancing with kimonos on) We can't let her do that!

The fact that Marinette agrees to sabotage Kagami could be overlooked if she stopped herself before actually doing anything. We all have bad moments. But she doesn't stop. She spends a good chunk of the episode working with Chloé and there is no defense for that. Marinette is absolutely in the wrong here.

We can acknowledge that while also acknowledging that Marinette's actions also don't make any sense in the same timeline as Frozer which happened a full season before Animaestro. In both episodes, Adrien is on a date with Kagami. Why is Marinette willing to be the better person in one situation and not the other? What changed? Why was she better on an actual date than she was on what is arguably a friend-date where Adrien is just being Kagami's escort? Why was Marinette able to push aside her friends telling her to bail on date one - reasonable advice - while being totally susceptible to Chloé's insane advice that they should sabotage date two?

There is no in-universe answer and that's why I'm willing to agree that this episode just generally shouldn't exist. It adds nothing to the story and is a poor choice when you look at where this plot started and where it ends. We go from supportive Marinette in Frozer to sabotaging Marinette in Animaestro to supportive Marinette in Hearhunter, which has Marinette once again supporting Adrigami on a date:

André: Which flavors for these two? [Kagami and Adrien] Orange and peppermint, a perfect pairing that's always a success; nothing can turn it into a mess. And for you two [Adrien and Marinette] blackberry and peppermint, an explosive mix that's a fact but often times it's the opposites that attract. Orange and blackberry, quite unusual it's true not the most obvious but it works for you two. So what will it be? Kagami: You pick. I don't really get what he's saying anyway. Adrien: Yeah, you pick, Marinette. We trust you. Marinette: Can't you find a blend for the three of us? André: I can, but too many flavors mixed together may throw off the delicate balance. Marinette: I don't know. Blackberry and peppermint doesn't seem like a great pair. And what if the mint finds the blackberry lame and wants to be with the orange instead? And it's true that orange and peppermint are awesome together and well orange and blackberry just doesn't seem like they go together. (looks at Kagami and Adrien together, walks up to André) Look I think your first idea was the best. The orange and peppermint ice cream for.. for my friends here. André (concerned) Are you sure Marinette? (she nods, Adrien approaches cart) Marinette (walks away and speaks to Kagami) I'm gonna head back to the palace. I told my parents I'd bring them back those cocktail umbrellas.

And, yes, Marinette does mess up the date by getting Kagami to help in the day's akuma fight, but that's way more in line with her Frozer behavior than her Animaestro behavior because it's not petty jealousy. Marinette didn't come up with a way to mess up the date. She was going to let it happen until the akuma attack, which had already messed up the date anyway. That's a far more complex and nuanced way to play the conflict. It's not the actions of a mean girl. Where did Animaestro-Marinette go?

The only way to make Animaestro fit in a functional character arc is to have to come at the start. You don't put an episode like this or Ikari Gozen after Frozer. That's just bad writing. I'd even argue that Animaestro is a bad fit in general because you don't need to take Marinette that far to give her a solid arc around "sisters before misters."

While Ikari Gozen has its own issues, it has Marinette being more avoidant than mean, which is about as far as I'd take her. There is no reason to make her sink to Chloé's level. It just makes Marinette look bad for no good reason, especially when Chloé is right there, able to take the villain role on her own! It's glaringly obvious that this episode only plays the way it does because of the stupid "Marinette must always do something wrong" rule and not because of some greater story reason. Without that rule, Animaestro could have been a perfectly fine episode where Chloé acted on her own, leading Marinette to realize how bad it is to let jealousy drive your actions, which would have been a wonderful lesson!

The "Marinette's character has to be warped so she's always in the wrong" rule is why I can get pretty defensive of Marinette. It's not that I think her actions are okay, they're often 100% not, they're just also clearly writing issues and not intentional character beats. I'd feel very different if Marinette's worst moments were ongoing flaws or part of a character arc, but they're not. They're generally one-off moments that could be removed from the story and no one would notice. Marinette doesn't even learn anything in Animaestro!!! She never apologizes for what she did or anything like that. The best we get is:

Marinette: I promise I'll never take Chloé's advice again!

Which is not the right lesson here!!! Everything about this episode is so frustrating! Marinette should be able learn lessons without having to be the one to mess up, damn it!

[pineappleliar]

I gotta go crazy talking about the Abnormalities/Distortion dichotomy for a bit, cause its been spinning around in my mind as I make my way through Lob Corp/Limbus. Also I’ve only got like 30 minutes in Ruina so I probably have holes in my knowledge even if I know LoR’s general plot.

Limbus makes two thinks clear about the two; that these entities have a distinct ‘feel’ from each other, and that Abnormalities are the end state for a Distortion. Beyond that we know a few traits exclusive to Abnormalities; namely that they are immortal, and can produce Enkaphalin. As well, both have Carmen as a key element in their creation, although I’m not sure if she is a requirement, or just the most common means available.

you see, before learning that evolution thing in the most recent Intervallo I had assumed the two were parallel creations through cogito, the main difference being the willingness of the individual being changed in the process. Abnormalities are formed from unwilling subjects, and Distortions, for all their turmoil, are choosing to become said creatures. The fact that a Distortion is an earlier state of an Abno changes things, though, as it brings into question something that’s bugged me about Lob Corp for a bit now.

Simply put, too many of the Abnos in the Corporation are clerly reflecting specifically the anxieties of Ayin (and Carmen) to be ignored. The birds are the three parts of the Head, Whitenight is the false prophet nature of the corp if they never actually complete the tree, Bloodbath is here, and my favorite the Black Swan who suspiciously has a backstory where a girl named Elijah becomes sick due to contamination and melts in front of someone. There’s more than that, but the point in these aren’t the concerns of the people who were used as the base for these Abnos; they’re the concerns of the Manager specifically being plastered on top of someone else.

So how does that work?

I think about the Time Ripper distortion here, and how its brought up in the Intervallo. One of the main highlights of its narrative is in how the Distortion itself has begun to contradict its own thesis statement for existing; rather than sharing its time equally, certain parts hog the time and recreate that disparity. And I think that is relevant because it brings up the question of what happens to a Distortion who can’t even fulfill the desire they distorted for?

Well, they become an abnormality.

It provides something akin to an answer to the Lob Corp question, because it gives a means to bypass the Distortion phase entirely by just overwriting said person’s goals out the gate. Alternatively, the absence of a responsive Carmen could be the issue; she does provide a particular sense of direction to those who do Distort, so it could be without her around things were more likely to spiral off into something without any direction. Ugh but how do the Peccatula factor into this…

Anyways really looking forward to playing Library of Ruina and realizing everything I put here is comically wrong.

[buck-star]

His exception

A new bank robbery and you’re not so sure about it all anymore. Chris, however, knows what you need and he’s more than willing to offer it.

Pairing: Boyfriend!Chris x Girlfriend!Reader

Wordcount: 3.554 Words

Warnings/Tags: 18+, Minors DNI, mentions of gun’s, bank rubbery, undercover mission, angst, fluff, smut [oral (fem!rec), fingering, unprotected p in v, creampie, multiple orgasm, praise, aftercare], petnames [baby, babe, pretty girl]

Authors Note: There were some of those gifs of him, and however @navybrat817 made me want to write him even more them. @soelstress more Destroyer!Chris. Divider made by me.

Events: Elixirscinema [🖊 ...✩ You are my exception. — He’s Just Not That Into You | 🍰 ✩｡⋆⸜ “Kiss me.” | Love Again "Show me that heaven's right here, baby. Touch me so I know I'm not crazy. Never have I ever met somebody like you. Used to be afraid of love and what it might do, but goddamn, you got me in love again." — Dua Lipa], Beginnings Bingo [Row One-One | First Mission | @sweetspicybingo], Hurt and Comfort Bingo [BO32 | Row Three-Two | Praise | @hurtcomfort-bingo]

Masterlist | Destoryer!Chris Masterlist

The sun is softly shining into the small room that you call yours and Chris’ home. The door’s closed and locked, but you still hear the voice outside. With a soft sigh, you pull the sweater over your head and put on your shoes. It’s pretty early, and you stayed half of the morning in bed to read a bit.

Chris offered to stay in bed with you, but after Jay kept pushing Chris to move his ass because he got some snow and wanted to try it, you almost pushed him out of bed. You love cuddling with him, but reading while cuddling with Chris only ends with Chris on top of you and the book anywhere but not in your hands.

You unlock the door, walking out into the darker floor. The door to Silas and Shelby’s room is slightly open, allowing you to look inside, at least as much as you’re able to see the two of them.

Shelby’s sitting on her boyfriend's lap while he looks slightly up at her. A soft grin is curling his lips upwards while he listens to her.

“That’s a really big thing; my cousins told me about it. He’s good at it; it’s a big thing, trust me,” Shelby says quietly but still loud enough for you to hear. Silas nods, looking thoughtful for a moment before he pulls her closer with his arms around her waist.

“Then—“ he trails off, leaning closer to her to kiss her neck softly. With a shake of your head, you walk further through the floor, not wanting to watch the porn.

Chris is sitting on one of the small couches in the corner of the room, his legs spread and his back against the backrest, while he watches Jay taking another row of the drugs. But your boyfriend's ocean blue eyes are immediately on you when he notices you walking into the room, a soft smile playing around his lips.

You walk closer to him, forcing a soft smile on your lips when you nod at Jay, and then your eyes settle on Chris. He’s still watching you, his hands slowly moving from his lap to stretch out in your direction.

With a swift movement, you sit down on his lap, your knees on both sides of his thick thighs when he wraps his arms around you and pulls you even closer. His nose trails along the soft skin of your neck from your shoulder to your ear before he kisses the spot underneath your earlobe.

“How’s the book, babe?” He asks, his voice rough but still so soft and tender that you relax in his embrace. His smell surrounds you, and you take a deep breath before leaning your head against his shoulder.

“It’s good, but can we talk?” You mumble, kissing his neck as well. The others are used to people making out and getting into their rooms. So, to keep the attention away from your conversation with Chris, you just pretend to make out with him.

He hums, smirking when he gets up with you in his arms. He winks and nods at Jay before you pull him into a kiss and feel his warm, plump lips softly moving against yours as well. Chris growls low in his throat as he walks out of the room with you and back into the hallway.

His ocean blue eyes focused on you, his lips in a thin line. When you walk past Silas and Shelby’s room, you hear the grunts and moans of both of them, shaking your head in disgust. Chris laughs softly, kissing your forehead softly.

“Free porn for us, huh?” He asks and hurries to get back into your shared room. You nod, your arms tightly around his neck while you run your fingers up and down the back of his neck. His trimmed hair tickles your fingertips while your nails scratch softly along the soft skin. “Guess we should do our own, better quality.”

You chuckle softly. Chris opens the door and walks into your room, closing it behind the two of you and locking it for some privacy. He lets you down, turning the two of you around before he presses you with your back against the wooden door.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, his voice low and quiet. His head tilts softly, his eyes soften, and he brings one of his hands to your waist. His calloused hand grips your soft flesh lightly. The other of his hands is pressed next to your shoulder against the door.

You shake your head, snaking your hands from his shoulders down to his firm chest. Chris immediately understands, leaning his head forward and pressing his lips as soft as possible onto yours. His tongue swipes over your lower lip, parting them softly before he devours your sweet taste with a low grumble in his chest.

He pulls away slowly, looking down at you with a soft smile on his plump lips. His fingers dig into your waist, his lips hovering above yours while he lets his other hand next to your shoulder slide down your shoulder and slide toward your waist as well. Just when he could curl his thick fingers around it, he moves it to your center and captures your cunt with his hand.

“Say it, say please, and you will get what you need, babe,” he says, his breath warm against your lips, and you nod your head. He chuckles, shaking his head when you buck your hips instead of answering his questions with words. “Words, babe, I need you to say out loud what you want.”

“Please, need you, Chris,” you whimper, feeling his fingers slowly rubbing your folds through the fabric of your sweatpants. A shaky whine followed by a soft moan falls from your lips. Your fingers curl around his shirt tightly, pulling him closer and grounding yourself.

“That’s my good girl,” he praises, leaning down to kiss you passionately once more. Chris brings both of his hands to your waist, grip tightening before he lifts you up and carries you to the bed. He sits you down softly, kneeling down in front of you while he lets his hands snake up and down your thighs.

Your boyfriend pulls at the hem of your shirt, waiting for you to lift your hands so he’s able to slip it over your head and throw it away. Chris leaves you with flushed cheeks and only a bra and sweatpants while his blue eyes roam over your body.

No matter how often he sees you, sees you naked, he adores you, adores your body. He can never get enough of you, and he shows you with every part of him. Chris’ tongue pokes out, wetting his lips and making you whimper.

He leans closer to kiss your sides, along your stomach to the other side before he kisses his way up to your bra. His hands keep the soft motion on your thighs. “So sweet, all mine.”

You nod, whimpering. Chris pushes you back softly, and you crawl backward on the bed until you’re comfortable. Your legs dangle down the mattress on both sides of your boyfriend's thick body. He hooks his fingers into the waistband of your pants, pushing them down and off your legs to reveal your soaked panties.

“Look at you, all wet and needy for me, babe,” he mumbles, bringing his lips to your covered pussy. His tongue licks a thick strip from your entrance up to your clit, where he sucks at the soft fabric and groans at your sweet taste.

“C-Chris, please,” you moan, wiggling your hips to get more of his warm mouth against your cunt. His fingers dig into your thighs, pushing you into the mattress while his lips remain around your clit and his eyes are locked with yours. “N-no teasing, please, Chris.”

Chris kisses your panties once more before he pulls back and slides the thin fabric down your legs, throwing it on the floor as well. His lips trail up your thighs, kissing and biting softly while he keeps you in place with his big hands on your waist.

“Spread ya legs for me, babe, put them on my shoulders,” he mumbles, and you obey, spreading your legs when you place them on both of his shoulders and caging his head between them. “Good girl.”

His voice is rough, sending a shiver down your spine. A low chuckle leaves his lips when he notices the goosebumps all over your body. Chris keeps kissing up to your pussy, leaving soft marks all over your skin.

“You’re so wet; that’s all for me, pretty girl?”

“M-mhm, all for you, Chris, only for you,” you whimper, bucking your hips to get closer to him. He pushes himself up slightly, causing your legs to lift as well so he can position himself better between your legs. His tongue slides over his plump lips once more before he lowers himself and kisses your wet folds.

Your hands immediately sink into the sheets underneath you, gripping them tightly while you pull at them harshly. Chris smirks, lifting his head so that his beard scratches over your sensitive bundle of nerves. He lowers his head again and lets his tongue run over your folds to your entrance.

His calloused hands stroke your thighs up and down before he uses one of them to bring to your cunt and tease your entrance with one of his thick fingers. He dips in slightly, slipping back out and doing the same with his tongue.

“C-Chris, no… no teasing, please,” you whine, a moan coming out when he plunges one of his thick fingers into your tight cunt. His lips are moving back to your clit, his tongue swirling around it while he pumps his digit in and out of you.

If you would look down at him, you would notice the grin on his face, his eyes locked on your face and taking in every little detail of your expression.

You feel the knot in your stomach tightening. His digits storming your spongy spot with every movement. Chris's beard is adding more pleasure, making you moan and wiggle underneath him.

“Can take another finger?” He asks, knowing the answer, and before you can respond to his question, he already pushes a second digit into your tightness. His name falls from your lips, your mouth drops open, and your legs shake when he speeds up the thrusts of them. “Mhm, gonna cum, pretty girl? Cum for me and make a mess on my fingers, babe.”

And you do, his warm lips, his soft beard, and his thick fingers sending you over the edge. Your pussy is clenching around him while you throw your head back and moan his name loudly. You’re panting, your eyes closed as he keeps fucking you with his tongue and fingers through your orgasm.

Only when you whine and try to wiggle away from him does he stop and pull his fingers out of you. Chris pushes your legs softly off his shoulders and sits back. His tongue pokes out, and he places his fingers on them, circling them with a deep groan.

“You're the sweetest thing on earth, baby,” he mumbles. Chris takes off his shirt, revealing his trained chest. His pants and boxers are pushed down after, and he steps out of them. “Crawl up, get comfy, and spread those pretty legs for me.”

You nod, still fucked out, but you do as he says and move further up the bed. Your head in the pillows, you lick your lips when your eyes settle on his thick, leaking cock.

“Can you take me, or do you just want to cuddle?”

“You… want you, please,” you whimper, spreading your legs apart for your boyfriend. He smiles softly and crawls up the bed, settling between your legs. Chris lets himself fall slightly on top of you, his throbbing dick rubbing along your wetness, and you immediately buck your hips upwards.

Chris leans down to kiss you softly, his tongue sliding over your lips and sliding between them. One of his hands moves between your bodies, wrapping around his shaft and stroking himself a few times before he lines up with your entrance.

His teeth bite slightly down on your lips, and he pulls it softly, then kisses you once more while he pushes in. Your moan is swallowed by him, his cock stretching your tight cunt, and you take a deep breath when he pushes further into you. No matter how often you have sex, it’s always a tight fit, and his cock feels just so thick it’s causing a light burn in your pussy.

“Shhh, so good for me, baby. Takin’ me like a good girl, my good girl,” he mumbles softly, running one of his hands up and down your side as he uses his other hand to stroke his knuckles along your cheek. Chris pushes further into you, bottoming out with his balls flush against your ass cheeks. “That’s my good girl, take a deep breath. That’s not about fucking, baby; it’s about making love. You don’t need to adjust immediately; we can just stay like that.”

If someone were to ask you why you love that man, that would be the reason. The softness he has around you. The love he shows you, the understanding.

You nod, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him down. Chris chuckles and lowers himself, his chest pressed against yours. With your legs around his waist, you let them slide down his thighs and tangle them with his.

“You’re so beautiful, so fuckin’ beautiful,” he whispers, his lips so close to you but not breaking the distance just yet. His ocean blue orbs are so soft when he looks into yours. There's nothing that matters but the two of you at the moment.

It doesn’t matter that Silas makes a plan for the next bank robbery or that the others play Russian roulette with a gun that doesn’t have any bullets in it. It just doesn’t matter because you’re safe; he's safe. And for the moment, it’s just you and him, connected and filled with love for one another.

“You can move, if you want,” you say softly, lifting your head to kiss him. Chris's lips move in tandem with yours as he pulls his hips back and lets his cock pull out except for his tip before he pushes back into you. The tip of his cock kisses your cervix, and you whimper into the kiss.

Your walls clench around his thick dick, earning you a low groan from your boyfriend. “You make me go crazy, and I love it, pretty girl,” he mumbles with a smirk on his lips. You smile softly back at his sweet words, sighing and moaning softly when he thrusts steadily but slowly into you. Chris lets you feel every inch of his cock.

“I love you, Chris, I love you so much,” you whisper against his lips.

“I love you, too, baby. My good girl, my precious girl,” he whispers back. He captures your lips with his once more; his thrusts speed up slightly. He’s stretching you so perfectly, hitting all the right spots, and the softness causes the coil in your stomach to tighten again. “Gonna cum for me?”

You nod, wrapping your legs tighter around him. Chris smirks, pushing further into you, his lips never leaving yours.

“Then come for me, squeeze me,” he growls. You whimper, your walls clenching around his twitching cock. The coil in your stomach snaps. You moan, throwing your head back while your legs tremble and your pussy is squeezing around your boyfriend's cock, pushing him over the edge as well. “Fuck, just like that, baby.”

Chris' voice is husky and his hips stutter when his warm cum spurts out of his tip. He’s keeping his cock deep in your cunt, his thrusts slowing down until he stops and lays down on top of you. He’s still taking care to keep his weight mostly on his arms and legs.

He’s panting just like you, sweat running down his forehead, but he still has the soft and adorable smile on his face. The smile that reaches his eyes, making them light up even more. “So good, baby, so good for me. Your pussy squeezed me so hard, mhm, love you. I fuckin’ love you, babe.”

You giggle, running your fingers over his short hair, letting your nails scratch along his scalp. “I love you too. Can you… Can you stay like that a moment longer?”

Chris nods, though he wraps his arms around you and turns both of you around so he’s underneath you. “That’s oke, too? Don’t want to crash my baby.”

“Mhm, more than oke,” you whisper and smile. You kiss his neck and shoulders softly, leaving some hickeys on his soft skin. For a moment the two of you are quiet, just enjoying the closeness and warmth of one another. But then you speak up to finally tell him about what you heard earlier and caused your mood change. “Chris, I-I’m… I’m scared; they plan a big thing… a bit… bank robbery.”

“We can just call, and they get us out of here, you know that, right?” He asks, and you nod. You would love to get out of the mission, but you also know that this is an important mission for Chris. One he worked so long for, and now you almost got the guys. You can’t just step back and ruin it all because of a bit of fear. Chris notices your thoughtful expression, his hands rubbing up and down your back. “It doesn’t matter if we almost get these guys; if you say you want to be out of the mission, we will do exactly that.”

“But you said… it’s important for you, Chris. You didn’t want to stop that mission for anything. And I agreed; I knew details about the mission. You played with open cards, and you told me that nothing… there’s nothing you would cancel that mission,” you say. He nods; he knows that he said it, and he meant it when the mission started, but now there are things that are different — things that are more important for him.

“I know, but you’re my exception. I don’t care about the mission if it makes you uncomfortable. If you say no, you don’t want to be stuck in here any longer because you don’t feel safe, we’re going to make the call and we’re out of here. When they don’t get these guys because of that, it’s their problem; they have so much information, and with the bank robbery, they play even more,” Chris explains, and you know he’s right. Tears well up in your eyes, and you nod, trying to snuggle more into him. Your boyfriend pulls the blanket over the two of you, his arms wrapping tighter around you, and he kisses your forehead softly. “I want you to be happy, baby.”

“But you said… I don’t want to ruin it for you; I don’t… It’s weird; there’s… I’m not sure why I’m afraid; I know they keep an eye on us while we are on the mission, but…” You trail off; a few tears roll down your cheeks. Chris immediately brings both of his big hands to your cheeks, wiping the tears away and pulling you closer. His lips are only inches away from yours.

“I said that because before I met you, my job was everything for me. I haven’t had anything else but it. And then there was you, and I fell in love with you. You’re the most precious and beautiful thing that happened, and I couldn’t be happier. Baby, I love you. I don’t care about any mission like I care about you,” he says softly, kissing you softly. His lips linger against yours, underlining his words. “I loved my job, but you showed me what falling in love really means. You made me love again, made me love something — someone that matters more than my job.”

“I love you too… But I want to… I want to finish that mission with you,” you confess. He nods slowly.

“We can, I just want you to know that you matter more than that mission,” he says, and you smile softly. You peck his lips and trail your lips down to his jawline and down to his neck, placing soft kisses on his skin.

“I know, but I want to. I know you’re here; you take care that no one gets hurt,” you say softly.

“Sounds like a plan, and of course I do, baby. So let’s find out where and when they plan the robbery, and then we are out of the mission,” Chris says. You nod but remain on top of him. He chuckles low in his throat. “Let’s cuddle a bit longer, and then we’ll get ourselves cleaned; Jay will tell us all about the plan anyway.” You giggle, kissing his neck and biting softly into it while he tickles your sides and makes you squirm on top of him to get away from his fingers poking into your sides with a grin on his lips.

Taglist: @rogersbarber @loki-laufeyson68 @etherealdisneyvillainness @winterschildren8 @pono-pura-vida @kimmie113080 @sergeantbarnessdoll @sebastianstanisahotmf @mercurial-chuckles @holylulusworld @randomawesomeperson102 @looking1016 @multiversefanfics @kpopgirlbtssvt @alexxavicry @gremlin-girly @casa-boiardi @blackhawkfanatic @mrsalexstan @thesarcasmqueen-22 @bamitzzsam [add yourself]

[just-shairahhh]

Wings and Venom; Part II

Pairing: Theodore Nott x Fem!Reader.

Part: Two of (Undecided Yet).

A/N: Hi, I'm so excited for this! I really, really hope you guys like it. I did go a little overboard. The word count on it is 7K words. It is however, a slow build romance. So, I hope you read through. And well, Happy Reading!

Part One

The Slytherin common room was quieter than usual, the crackling fire the only sound in the dimly lit space. A few students were scattered around the room; some casually flipping through their reading material, others sloppily scribbling in their parchments, finishing their homework on the last minute. Mattheo Riddle was sprawled on one of the couches in the darker corners, fast asleep, a book over his face; a book he was supposed to read for tomorrow’s Transfiguration test. Theodore Nott sat on the edge of a plush armchair, across the fireplace, his elbows resting on his knees, hands loosely clasped together. His gaze was fixed on the flickering flames, but his mind was far away— the weight of his thoughts already suffocating him. But he could not stop thinking. His father’s letter still sat unopened in his pocket, a decision waiting to be made. But that was not true was it, Theo thought and chuckled humourlessly.

The decision was made long before he was born. There were no decisions to be made, only orders to be followed. Now that he had begun his fourth year, the letters had only increased. Theo knew what was approaching and his body shuddered involuntarily just as the thought crossed his mind. When he finally couldn’t take it anymore, he let his mind drift to Y/n, just like he always did. She had become his quiet refuge when the weight of the world grew too heavy.

But tonight was different.

Tonight, when he closed his eyes, he didn’t find solace in her presence. He didn’t feel the quiet reassurance that usually steadied him. Instead, all he saw was her face—hurt, crushed, slipping away from him. And just like that, the future, the one he had let himself foolishly imagine, felt futile. Theo held his face in his palm and let out a soft groan. He could feel a headache coming on.

A faint creak at the door broke his reverie. He didn’t need to look up to know who it was. Enzo always entered a room with an effortless confidence, his steps light yet purposeful, a stark contrast to the heavy, purposeful strides of the other Slytherin boys. Enzo had never needed to make an entrance; he was always simply… heard. Theo had always admired that about his best friend—how he could walk into any room and immediately command attention without needing to demand it. Enzo never hesitated, never doubted himself when it came to others, especially relationships. Theo, on the other hand, had built walls around himself—this thick, impenetrable walls that he’d convinced himself kept him safe. But now, those walls felt less like protection and more like a cage.

Enzo stopped when he saw Theo, his eyes narrowing slightly. With a low sigh, he walked towards his best friend and dropped into the chair across from him, a soft smile playing on his lips.

“It was our third year here, at Hogwarts,” Enzo began, lightly. Theo gave him a sharp glance, the "Not now" look flashing in his eyes, but Enzo didn’t flinch. He only kept on smiling, that knowing glint in his eye suggesting he knew something Theo didn’t.

Maybe he did. With Enzo, you never know. While Theo was always the most observant out of all the Slytherin boys, Enzo was always the most perceptive.

"When I first saw Y/n, I thought she was just like every Ravenclaw—a little too wrapped up in her books, a little too perfect, like most of them. But she wasn’t like most other people I’d met, not at all. It didn’t take long to see that she had something… something real about her, even at our age. She’s not just clever or poised. She’s got this way of making people feel like they matter. Even if she doesn’t realize it.”

Theo looked up at him, his brow furrowing slightly, unsure where this conversation was headed.

“There was this one day," Enzo continued, his eyes distant now, as though lost in the memory. "you and I were in the library. We’d been struggling with this Herbology assignment—and no matter how hard we tried, we just couldn’t get it right. And the assignment was due the next morning. We were just about to give up, you remember? And then Y/n... she came over. Just slid her notes in front of you without saying a word.” Enzo paused, a nostalgic smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “She didn’t even ask us if we needed help. She just... knew. And there you were, looking at her like she had brought down the stars and not the notes to ‘The Role of Puffapods in Magical Botany’. She smiled at you, then at me and left just as quick as she’d come. You smiled through that entire week and some more, after that day.”

Theo’s chest tightened, a strange ache building as he listened. He could remember it like it was yesterday—you, effortlessly kind in the way only you knew how.

Enzo shifted slightly, looking knowingly at Theo before continuing again. “You had called her a sweetheart that day, albeit slowly and to me but some people in the library had overheard. The big, grumpy Slytherin calling someone a sweetheart, was so shocking to them, that word started going around and before long, she got nicknamed the ‘Ravenclaw Sweetheart’. I don’t even think she knows, till date, that it was you who had started it” Enzo chuckled softly.

“Remember that time in our second year, when Mr. Grumpy over here would not talk to us for a week and just snap at anybody who would try to talk to him?”

Theo snapped his head to the right to see Mattheo sliding onto the chair next to him. He had woken up from his nap, his book forgotten in a corner.

“Don’t you have a test you didn’t study for?” Theo rolled his eyes at him.

“Don’t you have a girl you didn’t confess to, whom you have liked for a shameful number of years now?” Mattheo counters before going back to whatever he was saying, “Anyway, he comes back one evening, happy and in a good mood, smiling for maybe the first time. He would not tell us what had happened that evening and he still won’t but we saw him stare at Y/n like a lovesick puppy from the next day and we knew it had something to do with her.”

“There was no lovesick look OR a puppy involved.” Theo defended himself rather poorly.

Enzo smiled and leaned forward, his eyes locking with Theo’s. “I’ve seen you, Theo. I’ve seen how you look at her, mate. Maybe it’s time you tell her how you feel?”

Theo swallowed before whispering, his voice barely audible “I messed up this time. I said some things I shouldn’t have. I don’t know how to fix this,”

“I would say to forget this and get some good pu-” Mattheo started before wandering off when Theo glares at him. “I mean, get some good company. But, I don’t think that’s what you want. So, why don’t you get out of here and do the thing that you actually do want?”

Theo’s chest tightened, the internal conflict pressing down on him like a physical weight. He stood up abruptly, his mind a blur of fear and determination. He wasn’t sure how it would turn out, but his friends were right—he had to do something.

Without saying another word, he walked out of the common room, heading straight for the corridor that led to the Ravenclaw Tower. His heart hammered in his chest as he walked through the corridors, every step feeling heavier than the last. But he knew, deep down, that this was the only way forward.

.

.

.

From her spot by the window in the Ravenclaw common room, Elena watched with sharp, curious eyes as Theodore Nott slipped into their common room, the highest tower of the castle, behind a Prefect. Elena frowned, her quill pausing mid-sentence. What was he doing here? Is he actually here to hook up with someone else after what went down with Y/n the other day? Where DO men get such audacity!? Her internal monologue took a pause when she saw him looking around.

Her eyes followed him as he approached the Ravenclaw girl, a fifth-year who was already blushing furiously at the sight of him. Seriously? Apparently, even a senior was not immune to the charms of Theodore Nott. Elena scoffed, internally. She couldn't hear their conversation very clearly, but it was apparent that Nott was in control of it. His tone was low and smooth, his body language calm yet deliberate. The girl giggled, entirely too dazzled to notice when Nott's sharp eyes flicked to the parchment she was holding. A subtle charm later, and he had the room number he wanted, all without ever mentioning who he was asking about.

Elena's lips tightened as she leaned back, watching the Slytherin boy's retreating figure. If he wanted to, he could’ve guessed the answer to the riddle guarding their tower entrance—someone like him could have solved it in minutes, maybe not as quickly as other Ravenclaws but Elena was sure that he could have. But that wasn’t his goal, she observed. He wanted to apologise. And he wanted to do it quickly.

Elena's gaze lingered on him as he looked around, trying to figure out what was probably their dorm number. "What are you up to, Theo Nott?" she murmured to herself, but a faint, knowing smile tugged at her lips this time.

With a smirk, Elena watched as Theo bolted up their flight of stairs, his usually composed demeanour replaced with an almost frantic energy. Her smirk grew wider—what a sight to see the cool, brooding Slytherin look so... out of place.

But then he came back down. Her smirk vanished in an instant, replaced by a furrowed brow. “Oh, for Merlin’s sake,” she muttered under her breath, glaring at him from her spot.

Just as she cursed his apparent retreat, he darted up the stairs again. Her smile crept back as she leaned forward, intrigued. He was persistent, she’d give him that. With an approving nod, Elena decided she’d seen enough entertainment for the night and turned back to her book.

Until she heard the footsteps again.

Her head snapped up, and there he was—coming back down for a second time. She groaned in exasperation, slamming her book shut and preparing to march up the stairs herself to put an end to this ridiculous display.

But before she could move, he sprinted up again, this time two steps at a time, his determination practically radiating off of him. Elena arched an eyebrow as she heard him knock, finally.

Leaning back into her chair with an amused grin, she muttered to herself, “Well, at least cardio isn’t a problem for him. Good for Y/n.”

.

.

.

You had just set your quill down, your eyes heavy from hours of Transfiguration notes swirling through your mind. Tomorrow’s test loomed over you, but sleep was beckoning. You were ready to call it a night when an unexpected knock shattered the quiet.

You jolted upright, startled. "Elena?" You muttered aloud. It didn’t make sense—Elena had stationed herself in the common room, a rule you'd both established long ago after realizing that your joint study sessions always dissolved into fits of laughter and gossip. But why would Elena be knocking?

Your brow furrowed as you crossed the room and opened the door, only to find... a back? Huh? Albeit a tall, well-built back. And clad in a Slytherin uniform too?

“What…?” you whispered, utterly baffled. Was Elena studying Transfiguration with practicality now, as a living, breathing subject?

You opened your mouth to speak something, anything, but before you could, the figure turned, and you froze. It wasn’t just anyone—it was Theodore Nott. Why would he be here?

Your breath hitched the moment your eyes met his. For a second, the world tilted—just slightly—as if your mind needed time to catch up with what you were seeing. He stood there, ruffled hair falling over his forehead like he’d run his hands through it one too many times. His tie hung loose around his neck, the top buttons of his shirt undone, revealing just enough to make your mouth go dry. His sharp jawline caught the dim light, and you hated the way your gaze lingered, tracing the curve of it down to the way his throat bobbed when he exhaled.

Heat curled low in your stomach, unexpected but not so unwelcome.

But then the shock hit just as hard, slicing through the moment like a blade. Your heart slammed against your ribs, torn between disbelief and something far more dangerous. “Um, Elena?” you managed, voice uneven, barely above a whisper.

Theo turned an even deeper shade of pink than the one he was already sporting. He started pawing at his face, his cheeks flushed, even more nervous now, betrayed by the way he rubbed his jawline proving just out of his element he was. He shifted awkwardly under your gaze.

“I, uh… I don’t think so?” he replied, his voice uncertain, and somehow just as confused as you felt. For a minute, the two of you simply stared at each other. He is here. He is actually here. Your senses completely abandon you as you keep staring at him, not able to say anything.

Theo stood there too, every nerve alight, his usual calm unravelling as he searched for words that didn’t sound hollow. His hands twitched at his sides—he wasn’t used to this, to standing in the doorway of someone who wasn’t supposed to matter this much.

“I…” he started, his voice cracking slightly. He cleared his throat, his gaze falling to the floor before daring to meet yours. “I owe you an apology.”

You cross your arms, your stance guarded yet you can feel the vulnerability seeping through. You compose yourself and don't say anything, simply wait. The silence stretched, and he felt it like a rope tightening around his throat.

Theo inhaled sharply, forcing himself to start speaking. “What I said yesterday—it was…” He faltered, clenching his jaw before continuing. “It was disgusting. And it’s not who I am. Not who I want to be. It wasn’t even about you—it was about me. About everything else. And that doesn’t make it better, I know. But I need you to know that I don’t believe in any of that pureblood nonsense.”

His words tumbled out, faster now, like he was afraid they’d stop coming if he paused too long. “I’ve spent my whole life being taught things I don’t believe in, being moulded into someone I don’t want to be. But... you know that already." He states but he sounds unsure. He doubts if you even remember. It happened so long ago. But of course, you remember. But you don't interrupt him. You simply nod, softly. "And yesterday, I was angry, and I let myself become that person—the one I hate the most. I said something cruel because I thought it would hurt less if I pushed you away first.”

He stepped closer, his hands now curled into fists at his sides, desperate to keep himself grounded. “But I was wrong. It didn’t hurt less—it hurt more. Because…” His voice dropped, and for a moment, he looked almost broken. “Because I hurt the one person who doesn’t see me as a name, a title, or a legacy. You don’t look at me with fear, or that hollow, brainwashed respect because I’m the heir to some ancient, power-starved bloodline. You don’t reduce me to a face, a presence, something pretty to look at and nothing more. With you, I feel like I can be something different—someone better. You make me feel like there’s more to me than the weight of my name, like I could be more than what I’ve been taught to be. And I ruined that. I destroyed something... good with one stupid, careless moment.”

His throat tightened, but he forced himself to finish. “I know I have no right to ask for your forgiveness, and I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t. We’ve never been friends—not really. But just know that I’ve always wanted to be. I just… I always knew you were too good for me. I knew that from the start. But I couldn’t—I wouldn’t—let things end like this. You deserve better than that. You’ve always deserved better."

Theo’s voice grew quieter, softer, like the weight of his own words was crushing him. “And for what it’s worth, I’m sorry. For all of it. For the words, for the hurt… for making you think, even for a second, that you’re not extraordinary.”

He finally fell silent, his breathing uneven as he stood there for another second, before he turned to leave again. You simply stood there, frozen, dumbfounded and speechless, the weight of his confession pressing down on you.

This is the first time he'd spoken so much to you. And everything carried so much depth that for a moment, you were blown away by the genuineness of his words and the sincerity of his tone. Warmth seeped into your cheeks and stomach at his words. It’s funny how what you wanted to hear for so long, can leave you frozen when it actually happens. You wanted to scream that you forgive him. But somehow, you just remained rooted to your place. Theo obviously took it as a rejection. Not wanting to bother you anymore, he hastily turned around and starts descending the stairs. Finally, you manage to whisper, almost unsure, “Theodo—”

He stops in his tracks but doesn’t turn around. His voice, low and strained, cuts through the thick silence. “Theo. It’s Theo.”

And then, before you can gather your thoughts or summon a response, he’s gone, leaving you rooted to the spot, the echo of his words and the ache they carried lingering in the room like a ghost.

.

.

.

Elena slipped into the room an hour later, her footsteps soft but purposeful. “Y/n, are you awake?” she whispered into the dimly lit space.

You stayed silent, lying still under the covers. You weren’t in the mood to talk. The weight of the day hung heavy on your chest, and the words Theo had spoken to you played on repeat in your head like a broken record.

"I’ve spent my whole life being taught things I don’t believe in, being moulded into someone I don’t want to be. But you know that already."

And you did. The memory lingered now, vivid and raw, as you lay in bed. Back then, you hadn’t known what to make of him. You’d dismissed it as a moment of weakness from someone who was usually so composed and untouchable. Because he had dismissed it first. But now, with the weight of his confession tonight, it all began to make sense.

Your mind drifted back to your second year, after the chaos with the basilisk and the haunting stillness of your best friend frozen in Madam Pomfrey’s infirmary last week. Everything had felt overwhelming, suffocating, so you’d done the only thing you could think of: you’d escaped to the Astronomy Tower.

You hadn’t expected to find anyone there, but as you stepped into the cold night air, your gaze landed on a boy sitting in the corner, staring down at something in his hand. It took you a moment to realize what it was—a cigarette.

“Seriously?” you had deadpanned, unable to keep the judgment out of your voice. “Is Charms really stressing you out that much that a second-year needs that?”

His head snapped up at your words, and for a brief moment, you thought he might lash out or throw some snarky comment your way. But he didn’t. Instead, he looked at you with an odd vulnerability that caught you off guard.

“It’s not Charms,” he muttered after a long pause. His voice was quiet, barely audible over the wind. “It’s… my charming Father.”

Your breath caught in your throat. You stared at him, unsure of what to say. He looked just as shocked as you felt, like he couldn’t believe he’d just admitted that to you.

“What do you mean?” you asked softly, taking a cautious step closer.

“It doesn’t matter,” he said, shaking his head. He tossed the cigarette aside, letting it roll across the floor. “Forget I said anything.”

But you didn’t move. Something about the way he said it—the bitterness, the exhaustion—it pulled at you.

“Theo,” you said gently, sitting down a few feet away from him. He glanced at you, his expression unreadable. “You don’t have to tell me, but… I’m here. If you want to.”

For a long moment, he didn’t say anything. He just stared out at the night sky, his jaw tight. But then, to your surprise, he started to speak.

“Do you know what it’s like,” he began, his voice hollow, “to feel like your whole life has already been decided for you?"

"Um, well. My parents are professors. And while they've been very supportive of the path I've paved for myself, I don't think a witch with a waving wand and a broomstick was top of their "Elder daughter's Career To-do List". Minus the crooked witch hat, obviously." You joke, with a serious tone.

"Obviously" he agrees and there it was. The first genuine smile you'd seen Theo crack in the two years you'd known him.

“My father,” he continued after a while, his tone bitter, “is one of the most powerful men in the wizarding world. Or so he likes to think. He has this… vision of who I’m supposed to be. What I’m supposed to believe. And if I don’t live up to it, if I don’t… fit into the mould he’s made for me…” He trailed off, shaking his head.

“What happens if you don’t?” you asked carefully.

He let out a humourless laugh. “Let’s just say disappointment doesn’t sit well with him.”

You didn’t know what to say. The pain in his voice, the weight he was carrying—it was so much heavier than you had expected.

“I don’t want to be like him,” Theo said quietly, but the resignation and hurt was so deep in his voice that you wanted to reach out and give him a hug. But you remained seated and let him continue. “But sometimes… I don’t know if I have a choice.”

“Theo," you murmured, leaning forward just slightly, "your father made his choices. And you get to make yours." "You are not him. You never were. And the fact that you’re even afraid of becoming him? That means you never will." You said with surprising conviction in your voice.

Theo stared at you, his gaze intense, almost like he was trying to see through you. His eyes softened, but there was something else there—a question, a hesitation. Finally, his lips parted, and in a voice much quieter than before, he asked, “How do you know that?”

You met his gaze firmly. “Because I believe it.”

The silence lingered, the weight of his words still hanging in the air. You could feel the tension between you, but you didn’t want to just sit in it. There was more you needed to say, more you needed to get off your chest.

“So,” he began softly, cutting through the silence. “Why are you here? They say only lost souls seek the stars, finding quiet refuge in them. Do you know why?”

You shook your head.

He continued, “Because it’s only the stars that can silently promise you’re not alone. There are so many stars in the universe, all so far apart from each other, never knowing there’s one just like them, drifting through their lives.”

He looked at you sheepishly when he finished, “Too cheesy?” He blushed.

“Just enough.” You promised softly.

Theo looked at you again, brows raised, as if silently saying that you had the floor.

“I’ve been drowning… especially this year,” you exhaled, shaking your head. “Everything just feels so… heavy. I always loved reading and studying. It was my escape, my refuge. But now, it’s like everyone expects so much from me—teachers, friends, people I barely know—and there’s this constant pressure, this anxiety, weighing me down. I am so afraid that studying one day will feel like a chore instead of something I enjoy. And I... I can’t stop my mind from overthinking every little thing, every action, every detail. At the end of the day, I don’t even think anyone others would notice or care to check how I’m doing. And honestly? I don’t even know if I have the energy to care anymore and I don’t want to be that person.”

Theo didn’t interrupt, didn’t say a word. He just watched you, his expression softening with each word you spoke.

“And you know what’s worse?” you continued, voice quieter now. “It’s like I’m constantly pretending. I’m pretending I can keep up, pretending I don’t feel completely out of place sometimes. Pretending I’m okay. And I think that’s what everyone else does too. We all just put on these masks, hoping no one notices that we’re all falling apart inside.”

Theo was silent for a moment, processing your words, and for the first time in a long while, you felt like someone understood, like your frustrations weren’t just falling on deaf ears.

He finally spoke, his voice surprisingly steady. “That’s… a lot to carry.” You simply nod.

"I can’t fix it for you," he said, his tone soft but firm, “but... I’m here. If you need someone to listen. And, maybe... it’s okay to not always have everything figured out. You don’t have to pretend. Sometimes, just taking things one step at a time helps—focus on what you can control, and let the rest fall away. You don’t owe anyone more than that. The only person you owe something to, is yourself and you owe it to yourself to give yourself the space you are out here, creating for others, if not more.”

He hesitated for a moment, like he was gathering his thoughts. “I know it’s hard, but… trying to do it all at once? It’s never going to work. You’re allowed to have limits, to need a break. Don’t be afraid to give yourself one. It’s not weakness. It’s surviving. Sometimes the strongest people are the ones who know when to step back, take a breath, and just... exist for a little while.”

For the first time in what felt like forever, you felt the tension in your chest start to loosen. For a moment, the two of you just sat there in silence, the weight of his words hanging in the air. Neither of you knew what else to say, so you just stayed, offering each other comfort and company instead of empty reassurances.

Eventually, he stood up, brushing off his robes. “Thanks,” he muttered, not meeting your eyes.

You nodded. “You don't need to say that. Sorry you couldn’t use that cigarette.” You smiled.

“It’s fine. I found something better.” He smiled back.

He hesitated—just for a moment—like he wanted to say more but couldn’t find the words. And then, without another glance, he turned and walked away, leaving you there with the lingering weight of a conversation that felt far bigger than either of you had realized.

That night, when you returned to your dorm, you found Elena sitting cross-legged on her bed, flipping through a book she clearly wasn’t reading. You barely had time to set your things down and flung yourself down on the bed before the words tumbled out of you.

"I think I met someone today."

Elena looked up, intrigued. “Oh?”

You hesitated, biting the inside of your cheek before sitting down across from her. “Not like that,” you clarified quickly. “I just… I don’t know. He’s different. He’s quiet but not in an empty way—more like there’s too much in his head.

Elena tilted her head, considering. "That’s oddly poetic."

You sighed, letting your head drop onto your pillow. "He listens," you murmured, mostly to yourself. "Like, really listens. And I don’t think a lot of people do that—not the way he does."

Elena smiled warmly. "You sound impressed."

You let out a soft laugh. "Maybe I am," you admitted. "I just feel like—like maybe we could be friends. Maybe we should be."

It had felt like a certainty at the time. A quiet, unshakable belief that somehow, in some way, your lives were meant to overlap.

But looking back now? You almost laughed at how naive you had been.

You never became friends. Not really. Instead, you spent years standing at the edges of each other’s lives, always near enough to feel the pull but never close enough to bridge the gap. Like two stars drifting in the vastness of space—so close, yet so far apart. There were stolen glances, almost-conversations, unspoken words that hung in the air between you like ghosts. And when the distance between you started to stretch wider, when the quiet understanding turned into quiet avoidance, neither of you did anything, simply watched as time faded into nothingness… Just like the stars, shining in the dark, but never reaching each other. And that...

It hurt.

And you never understood why. Or maybe you did. Maybe you had always known.

You snapped back to reality, the remnants of the memory fading as quickly as they had appeared. Theo had been distant again lately, his mind clearly elsewhere, the bags under his eyes heavier. What had his father done this time to hurt him? He’d said something earlier, hadn’t he? Something that had made Theo’s eyes cloud over with that familiar, unreadable expression. But just as you were about to pull at the threads of the conversation today, trying to piece it together, the exhaustion of the day caught up with you. Sleep crept in, stealing your thoughts before you could recall the words that had troubled him so.

.

.

.

Exhausted, you hauled your book bag onto your shoulder, the familiar ache in your muscles reminding you just how long the day had been. The Transfiguration test had gone well—but Merlin, it had been draining. And now, your feet were dragging you to the last class of the day: Binns’ History of Magic. The idea of sitting through one of his monotonous lectures made you want to cry.

Still, as you approached the classroom, the resolve you’d built overnight kicked in. Enough avoiding, enough pretending. It was time to face the snake head-on. No more skirting around Theo Nott.

When you stepped into the room, the usual chatter greeted you. Theo was at his usual spot in the back corner, Mattheo to his left. Blaise and Enzo were sitting behind them, followed by the rest of their Slytherin entourage. Mattheo was laughing at something Blaise had said, and Blaise was already grinning like he’d won some unspoken challenge. Typical. They were like a pack of wolves, basking in their effortless charm and superiority.

Your eyes briefly flickered to Theo. He wasn’t laughing, but his lips curved faintly at the edges, like he was amused by the chaos around him. Looking back on it now, you had hardly ever seen him laughing out loud. Coming to the present, his sharp profile caught the dim lighting of the classroom, and it took your breath away, how effortlessly good he looked, sitting there like he didn’t have a care in the world. But you’d also seen the flicker of exhaustion in his eyes yesterday. He wasn’t as unshaken as he wanted people to think.

Taking a deep breath, you walked straight toward them, your steps confident despite the butterflies dancing in your stomach.

The moment you reached their table, you placed a hand firmly on the desk in front of Mattheo, who was turned on his back, looking behind him, mid-conversation with Blaise. He didn’t notice you at first, too caught up in whatever joke Blaise had cracked. But Blaise’s voice suddenly trailed off when he saw you, his eyes widening slightly before he elbowed Enzo. Enzo was nose deep in a novel and did a literal double take when he saw you. He quickly regained himself and eyed Mattheo to stop. Mattheo however, was too engrossed in the conversation to notice anything around him. Without a warning, Enzo reached forward and hit Mattheo on the head.

“Oi, what the—” Mattheo grumbled, rubbing the back of his head as he turned, only to freeze when he saw you. Then, that flirty grin of his spread across his face like clockwork. “Well, well, if it isn’t the Ravenclaw sweetheart,” he drawled, leaning back in his chair. “Hi, princess.”

Your lips pressed into a thin line, but you could already feel the heat crawling up your neck. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Theo go rigid, his gaze narrowing. The room seemed to hush slightly, like everyone was waiting to see what you’d do.

“Don’t call me that,” you said firmly, your voice cutting through the tension. Gods, where did that nickname even come from?

A surprised look crossed Mattheo’s face before his grin widened, clearly enjoying the attention. “Whatever you say, princess. Now, what can I do YOU for... I mean- what can I do for youu-uuuaaaaaaaahhhhhhhh" He was quickly cut off by a rather stone faced Theo who had very subtly stepped on Mattheo's feet.

Quickly composing himself, Mattheo gets back to you. "I truly meant how can I help you? Advice? A good joke? Maybe a—”

“You can’t help me,” you interrupted coolly. “But you can move. Why don’t you go sit with Pansy? She looks a little lonely back there. Go.”

“Blimey, sunshine,” Mattheo groaned dramatically, clutching his chest like you’d physically wounded him. “What did I do to deserve this heat?”

Before you could reply, there was a sudden shove from his right. Mattheo stumbled slightly, as Theo gave him a sharp nudge.

“Get up, Mattheo,” Theo said quietly, his voice calm but firm.

Mattheo raised his hands in surrender, though the teasing smirk never left his face. “Alright, alright, don’t hex me, mate.” With a mock bow in your direction, he stepped aside, limping a little and clutching his right shoulder. But instead of joining Pansy, he shoved Blaise over and squeezed into the two-person desk with him and Enzo. The three of them now stared at you with different expressions. Mattheo had his signature smirk on, Enzo was giving you a knowing smile and Blaise looked serious, as if a little apprehensive of what was going on. But three of them had one common look, an expression that was practically screaming, Oh, this is gonna be interesting.

You ignored them, slipping into the seat beside Theo and dropping your book bag onto the desk. Professor Binns began his lecture in his usual monotone drawl—something about goblin rebellions, though you weren’t really listening.

From further up the room, you caught a flash of movement—Elena. She turned in her seat, just enough to give you a cheeky wink before turning back to her notes. You’d spent a good hour talking with her this morning, hashing out how to handle this; the situation, your emotions. And now, here you were. No more running. No more avoiding.

You sat stiffly at first, hyper-aware of Theo’s presence beside you. From the corner of your eye, you noticed how he kept his gaze fixed forward, but there was a faint, almost imperceptible smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. Then, so subtle you nearly missed it, he shifted ever so slightly—a millimetre closer to you.

The gesture was so small, so unnoticeable to anyone else, but it made your heart flutter and you let yourself relax a little more.

You tried, really tried, to focus on the lesson, but it was impossible. Every so often, your gaze would flicker to him out of the corner of your eye—still, but with an edge to his presence that felt almost magnetic. It was a quiet intensity, a presence that filled the space between you both without a single word spoken.

The air felt heavier, thick with unspoken things, and the all-too-familiar emotions after that night on the Astronomy Tower in second year began to creep back. What if this too remains an unspoken tremor between you two? What if it lingers like a forgotten promise that neither of you dares to claim? It’s not just the pull, the quiet magnetism, but the fear that this—whatever it was—might never come to the surface. That it might always remain a delicate undercurrent, impossible to name or tame, just like it had that night.

And there you were, sitting right next to him, feeling all of it again—the anxiety coming back, the weight, the space, the distance between you that somehow felt both too close and impossibly far.

And then suddenly, in the quiet stillness that seemed to settle over you both, Theo's voice broke through the silence. He leaned just a bit closer, his shoulder brushing against yours. A spark shot through you, and suddenly, your stomach was filled with those damn butterflies. You could feel the warmth of his presence beside you, so close, and for a moment, you forgot how to breathe.

Your body instinctively angled itself towards him, and you couldn’t help but notice how your head nearly brushed against his as he leaned in, his mouth dangerously close to your ear. The warmth of his breath sent a shiver racing down your spine, and your pulse quickened, like it could hear the sudden rush of your heart.

"Do you know," Theo whispered, his voice a low murmur, sending a tingle across your skin, "why Binns can never tell a good joke?"

You looked up at him, your gaze caught somewhere between confusion and something else entirely, trying desperately not to focus on how dangerously close his lips hovered over yours. You could feel the heat of him just inches away, and it was so tempting to close that gap, to lean in just a little—no. You quickly shook the thought off, attempting to focus on the moment. "No, why?"

Theo shot you a sidelong glance, a mischievous glint in his eyes, his lips twitching into that infuriatingly confident smirk you’d come to recognize. “Because he’s dead on delivery.”

You blinked, caught off guard by the unexpected humour, surprised by the sheer audacity of his words. For a moment, the tension shifted, and without warning, you snorted. The sound escaped you before you could stop it, and despite the intensity of the atmosphere, you couldn't help it. The way he said it—so nonchalantly—was just absurd enough to break through.

And then, almost without realizing it, you found yourself on the verge of laughing out loud.

It would have been a full-on laugh if not for the fact that Professor Binns was still droning on in his usual monotone, entirely oblivious to the small, chaotic moment unfolding just a few desks away. His lecture about goblin rebellions continued, his ghostly figure as unchanging as always. He might as well have been reading the room with zero interest—completely missing the small flicker of laughter that now danced between you and Theo.

You swallowed your laugh, but the smile lingered, and for a moment, it felt as though the world outside of that classroom had stopped moving. Theo's smirk deepened, his eyes meeting yours, the unspoken connection hanging between you both like an electric charge. You glanced at him again, a soft smile playing on your lips, but this time, you didn’t look away. You didn’t want to.

Theo didn’t make any effort to move, to shift, to break the moment. Neither did you. You both remained there, shoulder to shoulder, and all the remaining tension dissipated from your shoulders as you relaxed against him. The proximity was not familiar but comforting, and for once, you didn’t feel the need to run from it.

The silence stretched on, until suddenly, Mattheo's voice pierced through the calm. “Um, I don’t think I can see the board with these two people in front of me. Maybe they should move apart or something like... Owww—Come on, mate!”

Enzo's slap followed, and the noise was enough to make you glance back at the two of them. Mattheo was rubbing his arm, clearly irritated, while Enzo just shot you a sheepish look. You couldn’t help but smile to yourself, a little more hopeful, a little less guarded.

It felt like the whole room was waiting for something to shift, but maybe, just maybe, this time, the shift had already happened.

And you couldn’t help but wonder, as you glanced back at Theo—what even happens when stars collide?

.

.

.

Taglist: @nottinmyheart @whosyourgnomie

Thank you for all the love and support, you guys. I hope you like it <3

[neminomnom]

Arcane characters music taste

Includes: Vi, jinx, Caitlyn, Mel, Maddie, Felicia, Vander, Silco, Sevika, au! Powder, Ekko

This took ages because I kept on rewriting everything and I fumbled on silcos, please forgive me 🙏🙏 ‼️‼️ creds to arcanegifs for the Felicia and Caitlyn gifs ‼️‼️

Violet

-It all depends on the activity she is doing, but in general her music taste is a bit random yet makes sense at the same time

-For example, she has a set playlist for if she’s working out, then it would be mostly songs from rammenstien, fallout boys, twenty one pilots and maybe some iron maiden, her favourite song to listen to when boxing and training is Fear of the dark by Iron maiden.

-But, if she’s doing a more calming activity, you WILL hear Bruno mars, Tyler the creator and Chappell roan blasting through the house, but if someone walks in she will change it immediately to something else.

Jinx

- Any song with lots of energy and is fast paced she loves, if it’s late at night you would find jinx dancing her heart out around her hideout listening to any of the below

-Her playlist can go from evanescence, hole and rare Americans to Ayesha erotica, Lady gaga and ashniko. Jinx has every single album from all of those artists on Vinly and as CD, out of all of them, Fallen by evanescence is her favourite album.

-When she’s trying to create some new inventions or is tired and needs to stay up later, she plays Ashniko religiously to keep her brain stimulated so she can stay awake for longer. Jinx knows all the lyrics to every single song by ashniko and lady gaga.

Caitlyn

-Caitlyn is Marinas number one fan, if Marina has no fans then Caitlyn is dead.

-Of course she lives other artists, like Billie eilish and a bit of mitski here and there, but Caitlyn relates to Marinas songs the most and she loves every single one of them, her favourite song being seventeen, along with that her favourite album by marina is the family jewels (Deluxe)

- Caitlyn probably cried the first time she heard once more to see you again by mitski, and the 30th by Billie eilish, those two songs make her an emotional wreck in the first 5 seconds of listening to them, but she likes listening to the hit me hard and soft album when she’s in the shower.

Mel

-Lana del ray and beyonce until she dies, but also quite likes beabadoobee, not as much as the other two though.

-It may be one of her most popular songs, but Mel adores summertime sadness by Lana del ray, her favourite album being ultravoilence, she probably listens to Lana del ray when she’s in the bath and needs to relax, or when she’s getting ready to go out.

-Mel loves to listen to Beyoncé when she’s painting, it’s her favourite thing to play, her favourite song being Diva and her favourite album being Dangerously in love.

Maddie

-Olivia Rodrigo and Taylor swift all the way

-gets really offended if someone says they doesn’t like Taylor swift, she’s memorized all of the Taylor swift songs but prefers her older songs, out of al log them she loves look what you made me do, she doesn’t have a particular favourite album, she loves them all.

- at any minor convenience, you WILL hear vampire getting played at full blast in her room, she has so much Olivia Rodrigo merchandise nd would have a huge poster in her room of her, finds Olivia so cool.

Felicia

- she’s definitely an avid ABBA, Madonna and Adele fan

-would dance in the kitchen while cooking dinner with powder and vi when they was little while listening to any of these artists, Madonna is her favourite.

- Felicia could listen to Material girl by Madonna for hours and never get bored, she loves that song so much, but she also really likes ABBA, sos is her favourite song by them, her favourite Adele song is probably set fire to the rain.

- But she isn’t picky, will gladly dance around to any song what gets put on and has a good beat to it

Vander

-British dad music

-Queen, the Beatles, Oasis, the artic monkeys and just any old band vander would probably listen to, Oasis is his favourite one and probably would have a whole shops worth of band shirts and hoodies if he could.

-Favourite thing to do is play his favourite songs about 10 minutes before the last drop opens, his favourite song is Lyla by oasis, but he does love any queen song with every bone in his body and will start singing along as loud as he can.

Silco

-Bon jovi, Type O negative, depache mode and ghost.

-Loved ghost and Type O negative a lot more when he was younger, but silco still listens to them, not as much though. Doesn’t really sing along or dance around when listening to music, he just hums instead.

-Favourite song is precious by depache mode, but his favourite album is life is killing me by type O negative, but sometimes he just plays our love by Curtis Harding and jazmine sullivan if he wants to listen to something really familiar.

Sevika

-Metallica, nirvana and korn.

-loves listening to coming undone or seen it all when she’s trying to fix her arm, sevika had a collection of posters from all those bands when she was a teenager, same with shirts, metalllica being her favourite one out of the three.

-all said posters now live in a cardboard box somewhere in a random corner of her flat, she also had all of the Metallica vinyls, but they got lost and damaged. Sevikas favourite albums from all three is master of puppets, life is peachy and In utero

Powder

-Will probably listen to anything on the radio, she isn’t that fussed about music.

-She loves the specials, Tv girl and pink Floyd are probably her top three, the specials is her favourite thing to listen to while getting ready, Tv girl when she feels like she needs a sing and a dance then pink Floyd if she wants to stare at her ceiling and think about life for a good few hours.

-Will in fact listen to everything, will she enjoy it all? Nope, but will still listen to anything if someone else is enjoying it. Powders favourite album is death of a party girl and her favourite song is gangsters by the specials, has so many tv girl references in her room.

Ekko

- Anything with a good beat Ekko will dance along too

-particularly likes Tyler the creator, Bruno mars and Billie eilish, I don’t make up the rules. Ekko has a list of his top five songs in order being: see you again, sticky, just the way you are, apt then number 5 being lunch by billie eilish.

-he knows all of those artists songs word for word with no mistakes, has a morning playlist with all the energetic songs to make him get up, and has an evening one with more calming songs off those artists for when he’s tired and wants to go to sleep. Ekkos favourite albums are st.chroma, hit me hard and soft and 24k magic.

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

Middle Man: Part Two

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.8k

Warnings: canon violence, canon language, canon talk of death, methods of kill

Summary: You're called to Indiana where a woman goes missing. Maybe it's something about this case or maybe it's all in your head, but you can't help the feeling like something isn't right. On the upside, Rossi is throwing a Halloween party, and you can't wait to be with everyone and celebrate Spencer's favorite holiday with him.

Season Six Masterlist

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Criminal Minds. All credit goes to their respective owners. If there are any warnings that exceed the normal death/kills from the show, I will list them.

x

Emily and Spencer walk into the club and ask to speak to a woman who is willing to talk. There are several girls pole dancing on stage while other women are wearing nearly nothing as they serve food and drinks. Since they have alcohol at the club, they can't be naked but they can wear clothing that doesn't hide anything. Spencer thinks it's better if Emily speaks to the woman since she is one, so he stands back and listens.

"What would it take for you or one of your co-workers to go home with a customer?" Emily asks.

"Nothing. I have a boyfriend."

"Does he know that you work here?" Spencer asks.

"Yes, It's how we met. He doesn't have a problem with it. Do you?"

"No, not at all. I'm from Las Vegas. I don't have a problem with it. I just, um, these are questions that we have to ask."

"We are not judging you," Emily says. "We're just trying to find Stephanie. Now, you said you met your boyfriend here. So, you did go home with a customer once before."

"Those were the early days. Everyone's a little wild in the beginning."

"Not the veterans?"

"We know how to play it safe."

"Was Stephanie the type of girl who played it safe?" Emily asks.

"She never really went through a wild phase. All she cared about was getting home to her daughter."

"Did anyone try and take her home last night?"

"Everyone tries every night. I know she got asked to go to a party. We all did, but she turned them down."

"Them? There was more than one?"

"Yeah, two guys. They got dances from each of us."

"What kind of party were they offering?" Emily asks.

"I never got a chance to find out. It's bad business to discuss private deals on the floor."

"Can you show me where you and Stephanie gave them their dances?"

The woman gets up and walks over to the far end of the room where small booths are. Each is a singular booth that has coverings on either end so that whoever sits next to someone can't see each other or the girls that are dancing on them.

"I was in here while Stephanie was in that one."

"Could you sit down?" Both Emily and the woman sit down so that they can't see each other, but they can both see Spencer. "I can see the whole room but I can't see my partner. If you're working as a team, you both want to see the girl you're gonna take home. Why would they do it somewhere where they can't see each other?"

"We should take a look at the club surveillance footage." Spencer and Emily get the manager of the club to show them the footage of that night. "There are only two cameras. There's a lot of blind spots. How do you keep an eye on all the girls?"

"We got the one guy in the back and one guy on the floor at all times," the manager says.

"It looks pretty full. Are you always this busy on the weekends?"

"Only on theme nights."

"The unsubs probably picked crowded nights to make sure they blend in. They're smart. They make a plan of attack before they get to the club, and then they separate and choose their prey," Spencer says.

"I doubt they were very happy when Stephanie turned them down. Alpha personalities don't handle rejection well."

"They abducted her from the parking lot just like the others. It didn't matter what she said. Stephanie was going to that party whether she wanted to or not."

The second you step foot in the cornfields, you don't feel right. You're not scared of a lot of things since you can sense who is around you. Plus, seeing the worst of the worst every single day has made you tough against jump scares and silly horror movies. However, there is something about this cornfield that makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.

Someone is here and they're not supposed to be.

You look around the place but you can't see anything but the people next to you and a shit ton of corn.

"How the hell did they find this place? We must have taken thirty different turns to get here," Rossi says.

"We're definitely looking for a local. We should position black-and-whites in the area. We might be able to spot the unsubs before their next hunt," Derek says.

"Garcia should pull surveillance footage of gas stations, too. With all this driving, they have to be getting their fuel somewhere."

After a pause, Derek speaks. "I don't get it. These guys enjoy the thrill of the chase. I'll buy that. What I don't buy is them taking such a big risk."

"They wouldn't let their victim loose unless they were certain she couldn't get away."

"What would make them so certain?"

"Manpower," you say, trying to ignore the feeling of eyes on you. "It would take one person to drive the truck. It would take another guy to handle the spotlight to track her in the field. Another one to chase her. I think there are more than two unsubs."

"Do you see more than two energies?"

"I see four. Three red and one blue."

"That's good enough for me," Derek shrugs.

After finding shit moved in your apartment, you're a bit paranoid that someone is either following you or watching you. Goosebumps appear on both arms and you rub them to try and get them to go away.

"Cold?" Derek asks.

"No. I'll be right back."

You leave their side and head further into the cornfields away from Derek and Rossi.

"Is she okay?" Rossi asks.

"I don't know."

The further you walk away from them, the closer you feel like you're getting to the person who is watching you. There might not even be a person there. It could be an animal. It could just be your paranoia getting the better of you. Still, you won't know unless you go searching for it. You travel enough so that nothing but corn surrounds you in the field. You whip around when you hear someone whispering but no one is there.

Okay, this isn't funny. Your heart is racing, sweat is forming on your hairline, and your eyes are wide. You only get like this when you feel like your life is in danger. You're not sure if you're letting the energies of the victims affect you or if this is real life.

Corn stalks move to your right and you look over to see a very tall man, maybe six-foot-six standing there. Since the stalks are very tall, you can only see this man's face. He is scowling as if he hates you. He is there but is gone the next second, making you doubt if he was really there to begin with.

Before you can go over there and see if he is real or not, someone appears right behind you. You turn and scream in terror, only relaxing when you see it's Derek.

"Whoa, mama, are you okay?"

"Was that you?"

"Was what me?" You point behind you where the man was standing but Derek looks even more confused. "Come on, the car is this way." He takes your elbow gently and leads you in the opposite direction. "Are you okay?"

"I just want to get out of here."

"Okay."

You three head back to the station after, but the feeling of someone watching you doesn't go away. It's like you're stuck in the cornfield still. Spencer and Emily are already back from the club, and he immediately walks over to you when he sees the ashen look on your face.

"Are you okay?"

"I think so." You tell him exactly what happened to you in the field. "I mean, I'm crazy, right? Someone wasn't stalking me in the field?"

"You're a lot of things, Y/N, but crazy isn't one of them."

"So, you think someone was stalking me out there?"

"I don't know. Maybe it was nothing."

"It's probably my nerves, right? Using the victims' energies to make me paranoid? It's nothing, I bet."

"Yeah, I bet it's nothing. You're okay."

Spencer kisses your lips quickly and joins the rest of the team. He sits down in front of the computer and pulls up the security footage of the club to watch again.

"We know these guys are local, so we should be looking for anybody working in the fields or agriculture."

"The only problem is that more than half of Indiana is farmland," Sheriff Jeff says.

"Garcia, were either of the other clubs having theme nights when the girls went missing?" Emily asks the technical analyst over the phone.

"All of them. Meredith was abducted on Dollar Draft night, Amanda on Ladies night, and Kimberly on Fantasy Football Friday."

"You were right, Reid. They're targeting nights that the clubs are at capacity so they won't be easily recognized by the security cameras." Spencer doesn't answer. "Reid?"

"I think I found our two unsubs." On the screen are two women giving dances to two men. "These guys have gotten dances from half the girls in the club. They're very careful to hide their faces from the cameras, and this guy seems to be communicating with someone across the room."

"If his partner is sitting in the booth next to him, who is he talking to?" Emily asks.

"Garcia, do you have another angle?" Hotch wonders.

"No. The other camera faces the door."

"If there's a third unsub, we could be looking at a pack."

"That makes sense. I saw four energies in that field. Three red and one blue--three men and one woman. If these two in the booths are underlings, they would look to the pack leader to choose the target. That's why they abduct the women from the parking lot," you say.

"Stephanie only knew about the first two men. If there was a third, she never would have seen them coming."

"Garcia, any luck with the DNA database?" Hotch asks.

"There's nothing in a five-state radius, but I am opening my parameters to nationwide. That is gonna take some time, though."

"That's the one thing we don't have. We have twenty-four hours before Stephanie ends up in a cornfield. We might even have less time than that."

"What do you mean?" the sheriff asks.

"Two unsubs working toward a common goal is one thing. Add a third and all bets are off. We only found two traces of DNA. One of them probably doesn't know about the murders. The pack hierarchy will start to break down. They'll question their leader. When that happens, the Alpha will have to reassert his authority, and Stephanie will be the object of his aggression."

"I just can't believe someone from our community would be involved in this," Jeff scoffs.

"Don't underestimate a pack leader's influence. These guys are being manipulated into playing his game. We think at least one member of the pack didn't know that the women were being killed," Rossi says.

"Why here? Why now?"

"Each of the women was abducted on Monday morning and not killed until Wednesday. Why are they working during the work week and not the weekend?"

"Maybe they're busy?"

"Or maybe they know they can do it during the work week which means they don't have a normal nine-to-five job," you say. "That also means they have limited income and they blend in with a young crowd. If one of them is from out of state, that would explain why they didn't start their killing until the summer was over."

"What would explain it?"

"They're college students. We need to give the profile now."

Jeff gathers his men and women so that your team can give the profile.

x

Want to be tagged? Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

[opashoo]

Do you have any advice on how not to get so overwhelmed when it comes to conlanging? I get overwhelmed way too fast with the information I read on the conlang subreddit David j Petersons book I have or YouTubers I just get burned out.

I start out on my phonological sounds and sometimes I add a new sound or get rid of a few I find unnecessary phonotactics is where I end up getting stuck/frustrated and stoping completely. I don’t know why but my brain just cannot compute when it comes to phonotactics no matter how many videos I watch of people explaining it or looking through Wikipedia just doesn’t register in my brain. I’m assuming this is happening because I’m autistic which is even more frustrating I’m so slow when it comes to learning or I end up comparing myself to others for understanding/learning things faster than me. I get motivated to make a language and then I get overwhelmed it’s just a repeat cycle to the point where I just want to give up. I’m not even sure if it’s possible for me to make a conlang at this point. And then I stumble across something I never heard before from someone else said and I stress about that too and I constantly worry I’m going to make a conlang I spent so much time on only for someone to point out that it’s a reflex and I need to scrap the whole thing and start all over :(

So I have two big pieces of advice that have helped enormously with this sort of thing and they are to work small (the big picture will come together) and to know your goals. It's gonna be a lot so I'm putting it past a readmore. I also talk a bit about my own project, but it's all the way at the bottom.

First, focus on one thing at a time and take small steps. As your familiarity with your own work grows, the bigger picture will start to come together, just focus on one thing at a time.

If there's a linguistic phenomenon or grammatical construction or concept or something that you want to explore but you don't understand it entirely, then just focus on that for a while. I like to make toy languages, really, really small and simple conlangs with extremely simply words and sounds that are meant to focus specifically on one or two concepts at a time. I don't worry about anything else but those concepts; no phonotactics, no worrying about how pretty or ugly the language sounds, I don't worry about naturalism or sound changes, I don't focus on any of these things unless those things are what I'm making the toy language to explore.

My current project, Yongasabi, has a consonantal root system inspired by Arabic, but understanding the concept in a satisfactory manner where I felt confident including it in a project that I plan on publishing took actual years. I made three separate toylangs, one of which I revised and overhauled three times before eventually using that as a basis for Yongasabi. I needed that time and work to focus on absolutely nothing but sound changes and how a system like this evolves in natural languages. While I was playing around with sound changes in one toy language, in another toy language I was also trying to figure out how a system of derivation like this could into systems of nouns, adjectives and verbs. I did not focus on anything else with those toy language but those core concepts because to do any more would be overwhelming and confusing.

It's the same when you're working on a more complete language project, you build it little by little. Focus on one aspect at a time, one concept at a time. As you become more familiar with your own work and you use and apply it, you will start to see the things that work and the things that don't, and you'll be able to make decisions accordingly. It'll happen over time, but you have to avoid stressing about the whole thing.

And if there's something causing you trouble that's stopping you from making the language, there's no one stopping you from avoiding it until you're ready. I never actually properly wrote down Yongasabi's sound inventory, assimilations, and allophones until the grammar document was at 204 pages because I hate working on that stuff. :huntershruggy: That's usually the first thing a lot of people like to work on for some reason, but I hate it and I just went by instinct for 204 pages and five months. If I let that stop me, I never would have made any progress. There were some things I had to go back and update because of it, and that took extra time, but extra work with progress is better than no work and no progress.

Second, understand your goals.

A piece of advice I got from David Peterson's videos and several other conlanging youtubers is to know why you're making your language and what your endgoal is. As long as you understand what your goal is, you can prioritize and decide what steps you need to take to get there. You need to understand what you want or else you'll never be able to work towards it, and you reduce the chances that you'll be happy with it.

For example, I've known some conlangers whose goal is to make some kind of secret, diegetically constructed language for a fictional setting, or maybe a secret language to use with their friends, but they get caught up on rules of naturalism and worry about naturalistic development. You don't need naturalism if the point of your language is that it didn't develop naturally. That's just a waste of your time.

Conversely, I've known some naturalistic conlangers who feel obligated to add every new concept they come across with the idea that "Well if it evolved in a real world language, then it must have some use to real speakers and thus belongs in this language" but they miss the point that a natural language doesn't need to contain every naturally developed phenomenon. In the end they're left with something bloated, hugely redundant, and incredibly disappointing to them.

I've also met conlangers whose goal is to make a naturalistic conlang for a fictional setting only to be hugely dissatisfied when they follow the rules of naturalistic development and it makes a language that doesn't sound the way they want, or it doesn't evoke the feeling they want, or they find that their progress is unnecessarily bogged down by learning rules they find boring, because they don't actually want a naturalistic language, they want an artlang that services their story.

In all of these cases, the authors of these conlangs didn't understand their goals. They did work they didn't like to make end products they were dissatisfied with because they failed to meet their real goals. These goals can shift over time, but in the end that's fine as long as it makes you happy. You need to be making your conlang for you and your purposes! You say that you've gotten stuck on phonotactics and that's stopped you before, but Yongasabi doesn't even have phonotactics outside of literally one single rule, and it's that there can never be more than two consonants in a cluster. I hate working with phonotactics too, so I made my language in a way that let me minimize that work. It doesn't interfere with my goal so I'm totally fine with that.

I know this is a lot but it really does boil down to those two points: work small so that you don't get overwhelmed, and know your goals so you can set your priorities. My goals with Yongasabi were:

Make a language that allows me to explore this fictional culture I made for the slugcats of Rain World

Derive sounds from Mongolian, Korean and Filipino (And a little bit of Vietnamese)

Explore grammatical concepts that I find cool from these languages and others (My main focus was converbs and agglutination in tandem with a consonantal root system, but in general there's a lot of Chinese, Japanese, and Korean in the grammar)

Make sure I like the sound of the language

My main guiding forces were:

Have a rough basis in naturalistic sound changes, but if it leads to sounds or situations I don't like, change it; the readers won't notice because they don't see the development process

If something starts to feel weird or stops fitting in with the rest of the language, don't be afraid to change it or get rid of it entirely because that in a way reflects organic change in the language (and extra work for progress is better than no work for no progress)

If there's an opportunity for the culture to express itself in the language, take it

If you want to judge how well I've realized those goals, you can check it out here (I'm making this post free to reblog unlike the last one because the link is hidden under all this text and 1st edition release is super close anyway I am so excited).

Anyway, good luck! I hope my advice helps!