#words by alex | ooc

[rpwithoutlimit]

Stuff has been drafted ❤️ will get to it when I can.

[ssserpentsteam]

//pentious is like doofenshmirtz if he killed people

[h-a-unted]

Honestly, Alex Keller is a national treasure and he deserves all the love.

[sarcaasmic]

//@4lexnilsen Ellie when Alex mentions the potential that Bigfoot is stomping around in the woods outside their cabin

[thewritersofdeceased]

HELLOOOO EVERYONE! Like I said before, I’ve been on a hyperfixation for The Outsiders and Newsies! So, what better than to combine the two fandoms and write a story based off the songs of the musical?

This is gonna be a long series, and I think some people will enjoy it! At least I hope so.

First song in this is Tulsa 67, and it took me almost like.. two days to finish.. I’m working on Grease Got A Hold as of recent, but I hope you enjoy! I’ll make a google doc with everyone as who they are, or I can put it here but that makes this intro too long already- please enjoy!

When someone had stepped out into the bright sunlight from the darkness of the movie house, he had only two things on his mind. Paul Newman, and a ride home. He’d already begun to walk towards his home on the east side of town, where the greasers all had resided. He’d never been out of Tulsa before, and he wondered what it would be like. When it came to anybody leaving, he only knew most people would get stuck here for life. All he could think of was family. His older brother could’ve been a football star, many would say.

A lot of people would say Noah had a ticket out. Sparks knew the reason the oldest Blake brother couldn’t go and finish college, to be a football star. A long story. His older sister now had suffered from a broken heart, from a boy she’d loved who up and moved away. Sparks remembered Gwen’s heartbreak, which was 10x worse than a guy’s reaction to it. He had to go to the DX, where she worked, to even get ice cream for her! Which, he didn’t mind. Gwen knew how to express more emotion than Noah could, that way true.

The family only had one problem. They had no parents, they’d fend for themself. To the three, they had nobody to show them the way. Now, don’t get the blonde boy wrong! His siblings were trying, working their poor asses away. It made Sparks feel horrible, knowing he couldn’t help at all. He was only a teenager, a freshman in high school. Legally, he couldn’t get a job. He can’t work at the DX with Gwen, because they sold cigarettes. Not like he didn’t smoke! But laws and everything like that. Maybe she could sneak him in, however. Surely! Hopefully.

Sparks was the youngest of the three, and knew there was so much more to life than what was in front of him. He knew that much, he wasn’t dumb. A soft sigh would escape him as he continued to walk, the sound of the gravel being the only thing he could hear. He kicked a couple little pebbles along the ground just since he’d been bored. Often, he snuck into the movies to glimpse the other side. He’d rather take a risk and see it than to ever even try! His mind would wander as he walked, smiling genuinely.

As he thought and walked, his mind wandered on and on. When he was looking up and Newman had been on the screen, the entire world just seemed to melt away. He didn’t have to worry about a thing, well- minus the other people who’d been going to that theater. They weren’t often fond of the greasers that would walk around the east side of Tulsa, but Sparks wasn’t a bad kid, no. He stuck to himself, quiet and away from everyone. Until they tried to bicker with any of the other greasers. Mess with one and everyone fights. Rules.

He’d just sit back and watch the movie start to play, however. He enjoyed the movies, it didn’t matter what side he was on. Well- it did when it came to the west side. They didn’t exactly like his “kind” around them. Unlike in the movies and books that he’d read, nothing in the town played out the same. He had his hands shoved into his jean pockets as he walked, his mind listening to the world around him. Wasn’t that interesting now that he thought about it. It was the same shit, just always a different day. That’s normal.

Maybe back then everyone could agree. It’d be different. Along the line, at least from when the 1900’s had first started to now, 1967. By this time, they had lost their way. The boy continued to walk, looking at all the different things around the town, his expression unreadable to any. A blank-like stare as he walked, hands in his pockets. People in this town had places to go, and things to do. People had jobs, school, things like that. His older siblings had jobs, he couldn’t really be talkin’ there. He knew one thing for sure. This world changed.

He continued to walk, letting out a sigh of boredom. It was a long walk, that’s for sure. They had taken this town and split it down in two. That was true, he took note of it. The money had gone west, kicked the grease to the east. The train had ran down the belly of the beast.

The tracks separated the two sides of town, thankfully. But the soc’s never stayed on their side of town. All the time, they were on the East side of the town. Just to stir up trouble. He hated it. Everyone did. Every greaser.

Here he was now, talking to nobody. When he got to the end, he wondered what someone would do. Especially in a town torn in two. What was a greaser from the east side supposed to do? Especially in TULSA, 1967. There’d been two important things to keep in mind throughout everything. You’ve got the greasers, and socs. That’s how it’s always been, and it’s probably how it's always gonna go. As he walked, his eyes landed on folks that were dressed much nicer. Clothing with no holes, looking comfortable. Warm even. Sparks would kill for warmer clothing during winter.

As he looked towards the well-dressed, his mind thought. There’s another side of Tulsa that he’d hardly ever seen. To him? It was like a fairytale land. He continued to walk, kicking a small rock a couple inches in front of him. The grass was always greener, and the streets were always clean. Even in his opinion. All the girls on this side were pretty, and all the guys were mean. Now, that was the pure truth about the guys in Tulsa. At least on the West side. They were the ones to come over the tracks onto greaser territory.

Everyone would call them socs, cause they had lived like socialites. With barbecues and graduation days. Better clothes and better cars and better lives- Sparks had to let out a sigh, his hands having turned into a balled fists. Just thinking about the socs made him annoyed. Who could blame him? Especially after the amount of looks he’d get at school. He was a freshman, turning fifteen soon enough. This was just one town with two very different ways. He would pull a hand out his pocket, running it down his face to keep himself cool. Try to keep calm.

As he walked, he was thinking about the differences between the west and east sides of town. Over on the east side, the story would never be the same. Cars weren’t running, and were sitting idle in the yard. Of course they were. Greasers walked almost everywhere. If it was a walking distance, they’d just walk it. No point driving if it's close by, let alone if it’s the DX his sister worked at. As he walked, his eyes landed on his best friend, Battery. He remembered something that would always stick in his mind until the socials left town.

Just the other day, some socs had beat the living hell outta’ Battery. And surely, he hadn’t been the same since. Letting a smile form on his face, Sparks had jogged over to his best friend, wrapping an arm around the others shoulder with his smile wide. “Hey Bat!” He’d call out as the two now had begun to walk together. Better than walking alone. Battery had jumped slightly at the sudden feeling of someone’s arm on his own, but it’s just a habit. “Hey Sparks. Y’know- this town only holds us down.” Battery wasn’t wrong about that. It’s true.

There was judgement everywhere. Sparks thought as he walked in sync with the other, his hands going back into his pockets. “People think they know you by the way you wear your hair.” Battery complained with the shrug of his shoulders, looking to his blonde friend with a slight frown on his face. He had a busted up face due to the stupid socs, and he knew damn well once the others found those idiots, chaos would be held. “If you’re not born into money, then you’re born into despair.” Sparks replied to the other, letting a sigh escape him.

They’d do all that they can to get your poor ass there. Sparks knew that for sure, he knew his brother wanted to leave. At least he thought so. His sister was the opposite. She’d rather stay in town, which was completely valid. They'd give theirself a name cause they didn’t exactly have a lot. They stuck together cause each other was all they got! The greaser gang was a decent size, at least the one these two boys had been in. They took a lot of pride in how they greased their hair. Then again, they really did care.

People looked them up and down, but they didn’t even care! CAUSE THEY’RE GREASERS! Sparks would hum in response as he walked, watching as Battery had given a quick wave and had walked off to his own direction at that point. Probably off to the park, he didn’t know either. But as long as Johnny would be okay. That’s all he really cared about. Really was. They weren’t ever gonna change whether people liked it or not! This is- TULSA 1967! AND THERE’S JUST ONE THING YOU NEED TO KNOW! YOU’VE GOT GREASERS AND SOCS, THAT'S HOW IT'S ALWAYS BEEN!

IN A TOWN THAT’S TORN IN TWO! AND THAT'S PROBABLY HOW IT’S ALWAYS GONNA GO! WHAT'S A GREASER FROM THE EAST SIDE SUPPOSED TO DO!? AND THAT'S PROBABLY HOW IT’S ALWAYS GONNA GO! YEAH, THAT’S PROBABLY HOW IT’S ALWAYS GONNA GO! As the thoughts in his head had begun to wander off, there was one sound that was noticeable throughout everything. The revving engine of a car. A sports car. Sparks knew exactly what was going to happen. He could hear the engine of the corvette before he’d even seen it. The engine would rev again as his walking stopped.

“How many times do we have to tell you to stay out of our movie house?” Bob questioned first, staring down at Sparks with annoyance held in his eyes. “The Rialto is on the west side, and you do not belong there.” Well, Sparks couldn’t be mad at the point made. He really didn’t belong on the West side. Not at all. “You’ve been warned twice, greaser. Three strikes, you’re out.” He’d explain, before hearing the cheers of the other socs in the back. They were tossing a football to one another. Of course they were. With the stupid jackets.

A different boy had slightly pushed Sparks forward, so the boy almost stumbled into Bob. “Got nothing to say?” He’d question. Sparks knew who this was, who didn’t. Phoenix was well known when it came to being a soc. And he knew Phoenix personally. “I just wanted to see the movie.” Sparks would mutter, avoiding eye contact with the boy in front of him. “Cool Hand Luke isn’t playing on the East Side.” He’d grumble out now, lifting his head slightly before Bob spoke up again, his tone colder. “That’s not our problem. Is that your problem, Luka?” He asked.

“Not my problem, Bob!” The boy would reply, tossing the football over to his other soc buddy. “Is that your problem, Trey?” He’d then ask the brunette, who tossed the football back to Luka. “Not my problem!” He’d call out, letting out laughter right after. Bob hummed in response, looking at Sparks seconds later. “It’s a Sparky problem, right, Phoenix? Maybe he doesn’t like being a Greaser..” His voice had gone cold as he looked down at the blonde haired boy, who was shorter than he truly was. “...I think I’m right.” He had seen the way Sparks moved back.

“I think he actually despises… being a Greaser.” His voice grew serious, but there was a smile forming on his face now. “And I’m feeling generous, boys. I think we oughta’ help him out.” As he spoke, he was reaching into his pocket, searching for a switchblade. That wasn’t good. Sparks knew that. He was beyond screwed. His hair would be RUINED. He couldn’t have that happen. “You wanna be a soc, SPARKY?” Bob questioned, taking a step towards the blonde greaser. “Yeah, let’s make him one of us.” Phoenix spoke, letting out a laugh seconds after. He was excited.

“And what’s the first step in that noble process? We gotta clean him up a little.” Bob spoke, now getting awfully close whilst still holding the switch-blade. Phoenix, while behind the boy, had taken the notebook that Sparks had been carrying. And with that, the blonde would try to get it back, to no avail. He couldn’t get it in time. Bob had taken the notebook as Phoenix had grabbed Sparks by the arm, now holding him from moving and running. As Bob looked through the notebook, he’d hold it over a fountain, a smirk formed. “Don’t.” Sparks spoke, quiet.

Bob wouldn’t reply as he dropped the notebook into the fountain. “And I say… I say we start with that hair.” He commented, beginning to make his way back over to the group. His smirk would remain as he then began to repeat a phrase. “Cut that hair! Cut that hair! Cut that greasy greaser’s hair!” The phrase had even begun to be repeated by Phoenix, Luka and Trey. Phoenix and another one of the socs had secured Spark’s head as the blonde would bite into Bob’s wrist, resulting in a yelp and the switchblade being dropped onto the ground.

“That little roof rat bit me!” Bob complained. Sparks would kick Luka and Trey in the chest, trying to escape. It didn’t last long, as the other soc’s would quickly interrupt him, getting him down onto the ground below. Bob stood over him. “SPARKY!” All the socs had called, before everything went dark. Now, Sparks couldn’t remember anything after that. Especially when Phoenix had kicked him in the face. Hard in the damn face, of course. The socs were assholes. He couldn’t remember anything after that, he did remember waking up from his siblings, however, Noah shaking him awake now.

“Sparks!... Wake up, Sparks!” The voice of the oldest sibling had snapped the blonde awake, resulting in him opening his eyes. He was being shaken by the oldest, whilst his sister stood close nearby. “Jesus Christmas, go easy on him, Noah.” The blonde and black haired girl spoke, placing a gentle hand onto Noah’s shoulder, in which the oldest replied; “If I want my kid sister to tell me what to do with my kid brother, I’ll ask you, kid sister.” He stood seconds after. These were Spark’s siblings, Noah, and Gwen. They were basically his guardians now. Since… everything.

As he laid with his two siblings basically hovering over him, he had noticed the rest of the group appearing alongside. “Sparks, what did you do to piss off the Socs?” Noah asked as he gently stood up, helping the shorter blonde up off the ground. “I didn’t do nothin.” Sparks grumbled out, rubbing his arms and eventually crossing them. “You were prolly’ on the West Side again, weren’t you?” Noah questioned, his tone harsher now, but he had a valid reason. “It’s the only place they’re showin’ the new Paul Newman movie.” He grumbled under his breath, remaining calm.

“You and your goddamn movies. You know those bastards’ll be waiting for you!” Noah pointed out, running a hand through his hair and trying to remain calm himself. Battery would sit himself down next to Sparks, offering a cigarette to the blonde, who took it. Upon doing so, Battery would light it for the other. “Was it Bob?” He’d ask with the raise of a brow, resulting in Sparks closing his eyes and nodding. “When you close your eyes do you see lightning?” A strange question, but Sparks nodded his head again. “Ah. Don’t worry.” His tone was calm. Sorta.

“That’ll go away in a coupla’ hours.” He remained seated besides the blonde, before the voice of a boy had been the only thing heard. A boy carrying a baseball bat had shown up. “Spark’s a goddamn warrior, ain’t he, Aspen?” This figure questioned, his eyes narrowed and already filled to the brim with anger. “Hell yeah he’s a warrior.” If anyone had to ask about this boy, Sparks knew exactly how to explain him. Rex Woodstone, originally from the streets of New York City. He’d just gotten out of county lock up for something again. Most likely a fight.

As Noah and Rex had exchanged a charged look, Gwen had spoken up, looking to the black haired boy with confusion. “When’d you get outta’ the cooler, Rex?” She questioned, fixing her bra, as she used her t-shirt to clean the blood from her brothers mouth from the socs kicking him. “Coupla’ days ago. I’ve been stayin’ over at Denton’s. He gave me a room above the bar.” The ravenette explained, continuing to hold the bat tightly in his hands. He looked between the group, his eyes being narrowed slightly. A habit he’d gained back from New York City. Gross.

“What did they nab you for this time?” Another question from Gwen, her head tilted as she stared at Rex. Of course she’d want to know what he was in the cooler for. A low chuckle escaped the eighteen year old before he’d reply. “For bein’ too goddamn handsome.” He’d joke, looking over to where Sparks sat now. “Did they get any of his hair?” He’d then ask, his brow raising. Aspen had taken the bat into her own hands, watching as the ravenette walked over to the two boys sitting down. “Untouched.” Gwen replied from the background. Somehow calm.

Rex nodded his head as he took a couple steps towards where Sparks and Battery had been, now standing in front of the blonde. “They can bust up your face and pull your ears clean off your head, but if they cut your hair?” His brow raised as he spoke, looking down at the other. “You might as well throw in the towel.” Rex basically meant that if his hair had gotten cut, he mind as well accept defeat early. They’d been near a couple old cars, the sound of someone hopping onto the roof of one catching their attention.

A girl with blonde hair had a wild smile, looking between every greaser in the area. In her hands, she held a hubcap. “Got one of their hubcaps!” She laughed out, stumbling her way from the top of the car to making her way towards the two boys, and Rex. That’s Aria Higgins, the resident prankster of the group. You did not want to fight that girl, no you don’t. Aria was a hotheaded lady, nobody wanted to fight her. “Bag of frozen peas. Hold it up to your face until it melts. Ain’t it, Leon?” Her voice questioned aloud.

“Yeah, bag of frozen peas.” Leon replied, leaning against the car with his arms crossed now. “Or lima beans.” Aria then spoke again, looking between everyone before taking steps back, at least to be towards the car. “And don’t touch it too much.” Aspen would then comment. Every greaser had their own fight stories, it was just a canon event you couldn’t change. Battery was next to speak, patting Spark’s back. “You know it’s gettin’ better when it starts to itch.” He explained, motioning towards his own busted up face when he spoke up. Aria eventually moved closer to Sparks.

Aria would take a couple seconds to speak before eventually doing so. “How’s his hair?” She questioned aloud, her brow raising. It would take a moment for anyone to reply, before Rex had with a confident sounding voice. “It’s about to be legendary.” Rex responded, watching as Aria held out the hubcap for Sparks, who then took it. “I look like I got hit by a truck.” Sparks muttered aloud, letting out a low sigh seconds after. “A truck fulla’ pussies.” Aria pointed out, letting out a laugh. “Hey, let’s grease ‘em up!” Rex announced, laughter escaping him moments after.

“I guess that’s your decision, huh, Rex?” Noah spoke up, his voice stern and more serious than ever. It made Rex look at him with a raised brow. “It’s a Greaser decision, Noah. Sparks just notched his first knock out.” The ravenette pointed out, looking at the oldest brother between Sparks and Gwen. The blonde held an annoyed look, looking straight into Rex’s darker eyes. “He’s fifteen.” Noah scoffed out, making Rex look between everyone. “What the hell does age have to do with it?” He asked, holding a confused-like look. Not everyone knew what Rex did at that age.

“Only God and the Devil knew what I was doing when I was fifteen.” The others had laughed, remaining where they were. Aria had moved to lean against the front of the car, her hands behind her to support her. Aspen was leaning with her, both looking at Rex and Noah with looks of interest. Leon was quiet as he watched, leaning against the door, and Gwen was standing besides her brothers, watching the situation unfold. “You ain’t the one payin’ my brothers doctor bills.” Noah pointed out, rolling his eyes to Rex. It wasn’t long until Aria spoke up.

“You used to keep your hair greased twenty-four-seven, Noah.” That was true, Sparks remembered it when he was younger. Before everything had happened, his brother kept his hair greased back all the time. “Yeah, before he almost went soc on us.” Rex pointed out, resulting in an annoyed look from Noah. As he went to speak, he got cut off by Gwen. “Noah never went Soc.” She pointed out with a frown.

[ratunderneathahat]

Would die for more Constantine x Joseph stuff rn (that's not some insane shit I wrote in my notes app while sleep deprived that's out of character as fuck with the worlds most fucked up tropes)

[corcnaiism]

;-- anyways while i work on stuff, here is my new fav gf edit. tumblr didn't let me link it but i found it on @.glittergore.mp4 on tiktok

[farmboy-jimie-stardew]

*Don't laugh it's not that funny don't laugh it's not that funny don't laugh it's not that funny*

Damn, dude, that su- um. That's unfortunate.

It's me, the gay joke whose arrival was foretold upon your acceptance of the hot dogs!

(sad fwee noise) 🎉

(@farmboy-jimie-stardew)

Jimie... Jimie they're calling me a glizzy gobbler...

[aethelwyneleigh27]

Some Dad!Cod Character Scenario and Appreciation Post

Characters In Mind: Simon "Ghost" Riley, John "Soap" MacTavish, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, Alejandro Vargas, Rodolfo "Rudy" Parra, Alex Keller, König, Keegan P. Russ, Gary "Roach" Sanderson.

The original creator of the picture, they also have so many works that are used in so many fanfics as well so please credit her. I found her account here on Tumblr (@ave661) and here is the post.

AFAB!Reader and used pronouns are "you"

Apologies if this is a bit too short but;

ꕥ HOPE YOU ENJOY! ꕥ

A/n: I've had a good but also bad week (good thanks to @puff0o0 and other extremely sweet mutuals), it's neutral, I'm not here to rant of any sort but my personal life has not been good. I understand that not everyone will like me but it feels as though everyone hates me, most of those people happen to be at school. Sure I'm not really going to do anything about it because I prefer avoiding conflict but those same people are trying to flip the story around as if I'm the one who hates them when in reality I don't and by being mean to me they're giving me a reason to dislike them. Sure I'm average academically, sometimes I have difficulty pulling my weight in group works and I'm not outstanding in reportings but we all have our difficulties. I just don't understand people who love to hate on others because they have nothing better to do.

This is a word of advice to everyone, don't let others let you feel insignificant, you aren't and you have many talents that make you different from them. (I don't really practice what I preach because I love self-deprication, however I don't want people to feel the way I do because I know what it can cause)

Disclaimers/warnings: OOC??, Pregnancy, Implied birth, Children (Pretty sure that was obvious from the title), People who don't want/hate children be warned.

Short note: This is also a dedication to all the Mistki and Hozier fans out there <3

He was so used to the smell of hospitals, the smell of medication, it always indicated death for him but this was a whole new feeling. It was the opposite of what he has seen most of his life

So much so that he refused to hold them, afraid of potentially hurting the fragile little one. He looked at you as if you were crazy when you tried to hand him the baby, "Come on now love, you can't just avoid holding them forever" you said to him as of it was a life or death situation.

Hesitantly letting you guide him through the proper way to hold them, he felt his breath hitch at the sound of cooing. The first time the baby opened it's eyes, the first thing they saw being their dad.

The moment he looked at the baby sealed it, he was going to protect them their whole life, he would go as far as feeling all the guilt of having blood on their hands again if it meant your baby would be protected and cared for.

The baby was so small that it's little head was practically the size of his palm, he didn't know initially what to do when the baby cried and shocked himself when he managed to make them stop.

Once the baby was old enough to crawl, he'd let the baby crawl all over him. The little one babbling non-sense while he just chuckled and replied as if he understood what the baby was saying. Gods be damned if he misses an important milestone such as their first word or their first time walking.

You'd often wake up to seeing him shirtless snoozing on the couch, the tv playing only ads for home appliances late at night while the baby only in a diaper having skin to skin contact with their dad, his huge hand big enough to support the little one from falling.

He almost cried the first time your baby reached for his face an touched it, resting it's tiny little fingers on his cheek, giving him a gummy smile. His little one unaware that they just healed something they never broke.

He NEVER wants to ever see your little one grow up, though sure it makes more memories with them, sometimes they just wish time stops for a second so they can enjoy the moment longer.

Initially was terrified that he'd pass his trauma down but he realized that wouldn't be possible and he will NOT ever let them go through what he did.

Eventually chose to resign from his work because the risk was far too much, what if he died? He'd leave you and your child to grieve over him? He won't be there for them growing up and he'd miss everything.

Sure he's worked most his life to get where he is now but nothing is ever worth more than spending a lifetime with you and your child together. He's been lonely almost all his life until he met you.

You are his family, his everything. He promised that whatever happens, he'll crawl home to you...

[crazyk-imagine]

Baby plus Comments meets Horny Boyfriend

Pairing: Luke Dunphy x Girlfriend!reader

Characters: Luke Dunphy, Girlfriend!reader, Manny Delgado, Gloria Delgado-Pritchett, Jay Pritchett, Claire Dunphy, Phil Dunphy, Haley Dunphy, Alex Dunphy, Mitchell Pritchett, Cameron Tucker, Joe Pritchett

Warnings: Fluff, boys being boys, Manny and Luke being idiots, reader being a sweetheart, characters being potentially ooc, Luke gets jealous easily, Luke is a horny little shit, Phil is still the same nonchalant dad and we love him, mentions of Phil trying to do his magic

Word Count: 404

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

Alex exits the room, and their comments are idiotic per usual. You glance back at the two. "You're both idiots."

Manny nearly gasps, drawing his inner Gloria energy. "I'm offended you would put me in the same category as your boyfriend."

You nearly roll your eyes. "Did either of you notice Joe was in the car with us or outside the door messing with one of your plants?"

Manny and Luke turn to one another, the latter shrugs.

"No, right? That's why Alex was saying those things, not because she's sending mixed signals, it's because your little brother slash young uncle is adorable." You smile, holding your hand out for him. "Come on, baby Joe."

You turn back towards the two once you get the youngin in your arms. "Now, if you'll excuse me, someone needs to clean himself up before his mama comes up here and sees the dirt."

Your boyfriend pouts. "Why does he get your attention?"

You glance back at Luke, "get a baby and maybe you'll be cute."

He smirks, taking a step towards you. "Oh my- Luke no. I'm not going to have a baby with you."

You two turn and see everyone's attention on your conversation. "Oh, great."

"It's not like I made everyone look at us."

You narrow your eyes at him.

"Ay, what happened to Joe?" Gloria asks, seeing how dirty her son is.

"He decided to take a deep dive into one of the plants upstairs. So, I was going to see what I could clean up before determining if he needs a bath yet or not."

"That's so nice of you, thank you."

"Mr. Dunphy?"

"How many times have I told you to call me, Phil?"

"When I'm not mad at your son, we'll talk."

"But your never not mad at him."

You thin your lips, raise your brows, and tilt your head as if to say I told you so.

He sighs, looking up at his son. "Luke?"

The teen avoids making eye contact with anyone.

"He needs to go out and do something with himself."

"Ah, I got it. He needs to practice his magic."

An evil smirk dances across your lips. "Exactly. See you, baby."

"Wait- no." His shoulders slump as your figure disappears into the bathroom.

"Really, Luke? Here of all places?" Claire shakes her head.

He shrugs, "what can I say? She's hot."

Haley and Alex roll their eyes.

[bloodstainedsaint]

the sniper (joseph liebgott x sniper! reader)

summary: when you transferred from dog company to easy company following the battle of bloody gulch, you thought you knew what to expect of men in the military— though you really wanted joe liebgott to prove you wrong

word count: just over 3500

warnings: period-typical sexism & misogyny (big part of the story), very minor violence, denying feelings, mutual pining, reader lowkey has trust issues, full of other characters but hopefully no one's ooc?? also this fic is kinda messy 😭

notes: happy thanksgiving! enjoy this fic for the holidays 💞 also your favs AREN'T sexist, just confused

Gossip, you realized, was an easy way to kill time for the men of the military, especially with the recent news that there would be a transfer to Easy Company— the transfer being you, of course. You had no idea you were such a hot topic until you walked down a street of Aldbourne in search of the man currently in charge of your new company, Lieutenant Winters, and overheard a trio of soldiers discussing rumors as they sat around awaiting orders.

“Hey, have you heard that there’s a transfer coming from D-Company?” one said, lighting a cigarette.

“Whew, he must’ve not taken any smokes from Lieutenant Sparky, huh, Don?” another chuckled, stealing the cigarette out of who you guessed was Don’s fingers and puffing for emphasis, much to Don’s displeasure.

Huffing, Don continued, “He’s a sniper, apparently! Better than Shifty!”

“Nah, no one’s better than Shifty,” the third butted in. “Shifty can shoot you right between the eyes blindfolded.”

“Shifty would deny that ‘til he died, Penk,” said the second with a smile.

“It’s true, Skip! Apparently he tracked a target from 1,000 yards away and still got him in the head! Bang! Just like that,” Don said while he mimicked holding a rifle and firing.

“Psh, our boy Shifty could do that, or better: 2,000 yards, right?” Skip nudged Penk with his shoulder.

Penk shrugged. “Length don’t matter, anyway. It’s what you do with the gun, not how far it shoots.”

Skip and Don shared a look and grinned, the latter joking, “Don’t you mean distance, Alex? What, you insecure about something?”

The trio devolved into laughter and banter, but was suddenly quieted as Don patted the others and pointed at you approaching. Several other men standing nearby swiveled their heads to watch as well.

A woman dressed in fatigues, the shoulder of her uniform emblazoned with the Screaming Eagles patch, a M1 Garand slung around her back— they couldn't seem to get their mind around it. Disregarding their curious stares (you’d gotten a lot of them for the past two years or so that you've been enlisted), you walked past the group of spectators.

A couple of men whistled lowly, and a murmur spread through the small crowd. You stopped in your tracks for a moment, eyes downward in thought. Surely one of these men knows where Lieutenant Winters is. You turned on your heel toward the group.

“Afternoon,” you addressed the onlookers, who were now either standing up or gathering around in interest. Your eyes went from man to man, meeting inquisitive and suspicious stares alike, unfazed. “Anyone know where I can find Lieutenant Winters?”

“You, uh, you lost?” a diminutive man — Perconte, his name tag read — asked.

One with a strict face and a glower already etched into it — Martin — stepped into the scattered group. “Who’s asking?”

“Private (Y/N), sir,” you said with a quick salute that was returned. “I’m transferring from Dog Company to Easy Company. I was told to look for a Lieutenant Winters.”

The men exchanged a look amongst each other.

The man from earlier, Don, spoke up with awe apparent in his voice. “You’re a sniper?”

You turned to him with a curt nod. “Yes, I’m a sharpshooter.”

Then a lanky, scrappy-looking guy, Liebgott, entered with a smirk tugging upon his lips. Just by looking at his crooked smile and raised eyebrows, you knew he was going to cause you trouble. Just another man ogling at you like you're nothing but a pretty face. What else is new? “You need help getting around base?”

“No thank you, that won’t be necessary,” you swiftly rebuffed, turning your attention back to the rest of the men. You set them with an expectant look.

“You can find Lieutenant Winters over there at CP,” Randleman, a large red-headed man, said around a hefty cigar in his mouth, nodding his head in the tent’s direction. “If he’s not there, try the mess cabin.”

With a small smile, grateful that someone finally answered your question instead of asking more of them, you thanked him, saluted, and walked off.

As you started towards CP, you heard behind your back, “Did Roosevelt change something while we were overseas? ‘Cause I just saw a lady wearing paratrooper clothing with a rifle ‘round her back.”

“Very astute, George,” someone replied.

You could almost hear the smirk in Liebgott’s voice as he declared, “I’m gonna go talk to her.”

“Yeah, come back alive,” another voice — Skip, maybe — chimed in. “Speirs might’ve rubbed off on her.”

You only had a few seconds to mentally prepare yourself before you heard footsteps catching up behind you. Liebgott was now walking side by side with you, matching your brisk pace.

“Hey, (Y/N), right?”

You took a sidelong glance at him. “That’s right.”

“Joseph D. Liebgott. Technician 5th-Grade.”

“And is there a reason why you’re following me to CP, Liebgott?”

“Thought I’d show you around base, get to know you a little.”

“And I thought I declined your assistance,” you said firmly. “I was part of Dog Company; I'm not new around here.”

“Alright, how about introducing you to Easy men when you’re finished?” He threw a smile your way. “They’re curious about you.”

You slightly grimaced at the thought of being at the center of attention for so many strangers. “I’d rather not.”

“Why? They’re great guys. I don’t know about Dog Company men and their Lieutenant Speirs, but Easy men, especially Toccoa men, are different.”

They don’t seem all that different to me. You gripped the strap of your gun a little tighter. “Once again, I’ll pass.”

He shrugged. “You’ll warm up to us.”

A tense silence ensued. You did your best to not seem bothered by it. Usually by this point people gave up and stopped talking to you entirely.

“So, uh,” he began, running his hands through his hair. Of course you weren’t getting rid of him that easily. Your intuition earlier was right. “Why’re you transferring over to Easy? No offense, but we've got a helluva marksman already.”

“I wasn’t given a reason, just an order.”

“That so? Well, maybe you’ll take his place as our resident sniper, huh?”

“Looking forward to it,” you responded drily.

He chuckled. “You’ll fit right into Easy with the rest of the snarkers. Where you from, (Y/N)?”

You eyed him cautiously. “Lansing, Michigan.”

“Get outta here, you serious? I'm from there too!” Liebgott cracked a smile and gazed at you. “Man, I might’ve seen you around and just haven’t realized it. Could've been talking to you years ago.”

You pursed your lips. “It wouldn't have helped your chances, Liebgott.”

Grinning, he said, undaunted, “What chances? We're just talking. I wanna know the lady I’ll be fighting with.”

“You just want to know if I’m single or not. That’s all,” you icily said as the two of you neared the tent.

Apparently found out, Liebgott smiled broadly and stopped a few feet from CP while you continued walking. “Well, are you?”

You turned to face him. “Yes, I’m single, and no, I’m not interested in sleeping with you.”

You couldn’t see the smile melt off his face as you entered the tent, eyes searching amongst all the men and equipment for the tall soldier you’ve seen conversing with Lieutenant Speirs before.

“Private (Y/N),” a voice called. You looked in its direction and finally found Winters.

“Lieutenant Winters.” You saluted.

“You’re the new transfer, right?” he asked, beckoning you further into the tent for some privacy. You were thankful that most of the men here were too occupied with their own duties to notice you.

You followed him to a quiet corner. “Yes, sir.”

“Met the men yet?”

“Some of them.”

“Anyone give you trouble?” he asked gently. “You can tell me.”

You paused, thinking. Nothing past some inquisitive stares and a couple of questions. “No, sir.”

Winters perceived your hesitation. “If that changes, tell me. They're good men, but they might be a bit eager to meet you.”

You nodded. Liebgott certainly was. He analyzed your face for a second before continuing, “Try to get yourself acquainted at dinner before you go into combat with them. That’ll be all, Private.”

You saluted, knowing full well that you’ll most likely try to get a seat by yourself, away from the clamor of the men.

“Thank you, sir.”

-

It turned out that no seat was good enough to escape the onslaught of questions.

You had gotten there early and took a seat at the far end of one of the tables with a book in hand and not much of an appetite. Unfortunately for you, being one of the first ones there instead of a head in a crowd of people singled you out, and eventually you were surrounded by men wanting to know more.

“Hey, this is the new replacement I’ve been hearing so much about, yeah?” Bill Guarnere, or Wild Bill, as they called him, questioned, shoving himself into one of the seats at your table.

“Transfer, Gonorrhea, not a replacement,” Liebgott said from your side. When he had entered the mess cabin, you had attempted to hide yourself with your book, but to no avail. He had beelined toward you, beaming ear to ear as he slid into the seat next to you.

“You into books?” he said, eyes going from you to the book in your hands.

You thought that he might actually surprise you.“Yeah, are you?”

He scoffed lightheartedly. “What, you kidding? I love to read!”

A ghost of a smile graced your face. “What kind?”

“Oh, you know, Dick Tracy, Flash Gordon, mostly!” he said, seemingly proud of himself, and your smile disappeared.

Soon after that, people swarmed your table. If you were being fair, though, Liebgott had spoken for you for most of the night, making sure you could read in relative peace. If you didn't know any better, you’d say that he was just enjoying you being by his side, but you were still wary of any underlying intentions (let’s say, getting into your pants) he might have.

Yet, out of the corner of your eyes, you saw the way he looked at you from time to time with a small smile upturning his lips, and you wanted to believe he didn't have any.

“Transfer, replacement, whatever,” Bill brushed it off with a wave of his hand. “What I wanna know is—”

“—why she’s a girl?” Liebgott finished. “Jeez, I dunno, she’s only been asked this twelve times tonight.”

“If you’d let me finish,” Bill said with a pointed look at Liebgott as he pulled out a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, “I was gonna ask if she did shoot a Kraut from 1,000 yards away.”

“You’d be giving ole Shifty a real run for his money, ain't that right, Shift?” Joe — the other one, Joe Toye — said from beside Bill, reaching over to another table and shaking one of the guys there.

Shifty, you assumed, looked over and met your eyes with a kind smile. “No, no, I’m sure she's a better shot than me. Y'all give me too much credit.”

“That’s what being humble will get ya.” Bill chuckled and puffed from his cigarette. “Your spot as Easy’s best shot out from under ya.”

The table laughed, and you steeled yourself before uttering in a quiet, yet steady voice, “It was two men.”

A hush descended over the table. Liebgott turned to look at you. “What?”

“Two men. I dropped the first. The other one heard and started running. I dropped him next. Both in the head,” you relayed, without the humor of a storyteller but the gravity of a historian. You didn't know it, but you had a stony look in your eye.

Luckily, you were saved from the stunned silence by a man getting up and reciting a poem, but you could feel Liebgott’s eyes burning into you. With fear? Admiration? You weren’t sure, but you didn't dare look over.

-

Joe Liebgott was nothing if not persistent. For months now, he'd been lingering around you, flirting and striking up conversations with you. To be honest, you never outright said for him to stop (besides that one time in the very beginning when you said you weren’t interested), so you guessed he wasn't overstepping any boundaries.

Still, he seemed determined to get you into his bed.

“C’mon, I think we’d look cute together!”

“That’s what you think, Joe,” George said, squatting next to his friend, “Giving her heart eyes and all. Meanwhile, she looks at you like you're her next target.”

Brushing his teeth, Frank followed the other two’s gaze across the road, where you were happily talking with Bull and Shifty. He spat out the toothpaste residue on the ground beside him and said, counting on his fingers, “Seems like the only people she gives the time of day to are Shifty, Bull, Doc Roe, even Webster.”

“Who, if you'll notice,” George said, gesturing with a cigarette between his fingers, “are all quiet, reserved, well-mannered people. You, on the other hand, got a loud mouth and, uh, what’s it called, Frank?”

“A short fuse,” Frank supplied.

“Yeah, a short fuse. She probably thinks you’re trying to get into bed with her, in which case, you're shit outta luck.”

Frank said, shaking his head, “Scary, that girl. With her rifle and that look in her eyes.”

Liebgott exhaled. “But I’m not tryna just sleep with her! I even gave her some of my favorite comics ‘cause I knew she likes to read.”

“Yeah, real books, Joe— that's why she gets along with Webster!” Frank exclaimed. “You sure you didn't give her the pornos?”

George laughed. “That'd give her the wrong impression.”

Liebgott narrowed his eyes as you giggled at something Shifty said. “You’re right, maybe she doesn't like me.”

Standing up, George sighed and snuffed out his cigarette. “That’s not the point, Joe. I’ve seen the way she looks at you.”

“Yeah, like I’m her next target? You told me already.”

“No,” George said with an exaggerated eye roll, “like she wants more outta you. ‘Cause all she's getting is the impression that you wanna fuck her.”

Liebgott stood up as well, still watching as you laughed with Bull and Shifty. George and Frank patted him on the back.

“She’s all yours, buddy,” Frank assured with a sympathetic smile. “She makes heart eyes at you too.”

-

There were only a handful of women selected to serve outside of something like a nurse’s position; you just so happened to be one of them, most likely because of your experience with a rifle. So, you’d gotten used to the lustful ways some men would watch you, or the demeaning ways they would taunt you. You guessed almost all of them had never seen a woman with a combat position in the military before (or by the way some of them acted, ever spoken to a woman at all).

But such men only assumed that you had earned your jump wings by sleeping around with officers. They assumed that they should be able to get in on it too, or that they should condemn you for something you didn't even do, for being unworthy and unskilled all because you were a woman.

It had always been a difficult pill to swallow: your military career would be littered with scathing remarks and crude comments, and you’d have to be strictly professional or closed-off with most men lest you’d be seen as a whore rather than just “scary”. But the hardest fact to accept was the fact that Liebgott, for all the kindness he had shown you, all the times he talked to you like you were a human being— that he most likely had the same intentions as everyone else.

As much as you relished his company, his crooked smile, his jokes, his lingering touches (and as much as you had to pretend you didn't), you had to accept his end goal was for you to warm his bed. And sure, maybe he was more dogged with his efforts than other men were, and maybe your friends in the company had told you that he was a genuine guy, but you just couldn't believe that he had anything else in mind when it came to you.

Maybe all the criticisms thrown your way had affected you more than you thought.

With the success of Operation Pegasus, Bull had dragged you (not literally, though you’re sure he could've) into a pub in the Netherlands for some celebratory drinking.

You didn't drink, and you disliked pubs; the smell of booze and drunken people was often overpowering, but at least you found quiet company with Bull. Across the room from your table, you saw Liebgott staring at you with a smile and a drink in his hand. It seemed as though he had noticed you the second you entered.

“It’s alright if I leave you alone for a second, little lady?” Bull said, chewing on a cigar like usual. “You'll be fine?”

“Sure, Bull. Go enjoy yourself.”

The large man smiled and patted you on the back before leaving to talk to some of the other men in the company.

Not one to mingle, you were only a few pages into your book when you caught the attention of an intoxicated soldier.

“Look who it is,” Cobb said to himself, hardly standing upright. You recognized his voice, seeing as this wasn’t the first time he’s derided you. “Ms. 1,000 Yards, huh. Bet the officers over at Dog Company only made up that story so it looks like you had some use.”

You ground your teeth. Typically, if you didn't give someone like him the satisfaction of an answer, they’d leave you alone. Why defend yourself and give people another word to call you: bitchy?

“What's a woman got to do in the military anyway?” Bottle in hand, he shambled towards you. “Besides suck the dicks of the men who are actually fighting.”

Steadying your uneven breath, you tried to look behind him to find Liebgott, but his body blocked your view.

Taking another swig, he spat, “That why they transferred you over from Dog Company? Those boys got their fill of you and passed you onto us, huh? Fuckin’ good for nothing slut.”

“What the fuck did you just say to her?” You heard Liebgott’s voice and felt relief wash over you.

Cobb turned around, and you caught a glimpse of an incensed Liebgott, a fierce glint to his eyes.

“Tell me what you just said to her.”

“Oh, please, Joe, you trying to get her to suck your cock faster—”

He was interrupted by a fist flying his way, toppling the inebriated man. Liebgott got on top of him and began trading punches before the surrounding men, drawn by the commotion, tried to pull him off of Cobb.

Your eyes were blown wide as you stood there, speechless. Bull found you and pulled you by the arm out of the pub.

“But what about Liebgott?” you said, peering behind you.

Bull shrugged and did the same. “Seems like he was winning anyway.”

That night in your billet, all you could think about was the fury that twisted Liebgott’s face into one you only saw on the battlefield.

And it was all for you.

-

The next day, you searched for Liebgott at breakfast, the table feeling a bit more empty without him taking up his normal spot beside you, but he had found you first, as he usually did.

“Hey, (Y/N), can I talk to you for a sec?” he said, his hand on your shoulder. You turned around in your seat and were met with a slightly bruised Liebgott, a small cut across his nose. Concern filling your chest, you nodded, and his hand held your wrist as he led you out of the mess hall.

“So, uh, about last night,” he started, rubbing the back of his neck. His eyes searched yours for how you felt about him bringing it up, but he found no hints in your unreadable expression. “I’m sorry for fighting Cobb for you. You're a strong woman, you could handle him yourself—”

Smiling at his uncharacteristic hesitance, you cut his apology short with a peck on the cheek. You pulled away and saw his temporary surprise.

“Thank you, Joe. I appreciated you standing up for me. It means a lot.”

His face broke into the widest beam you've ever seen.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked eagerly, the words spilling out of his mouth before he could even process what they were. “Shit, sorry, that was too soon—”

You answered his question by tenderly holding his bruised face with your hands and bringing his lips to yours. You could feel him grin into the kiss as he pulled you closer, and your heart just about melted.

Maybe you had gotten Joe Liebgott all wrong from the start.

“Great, he’s never gonna wash that cheek again!”

-

taglist: @mads-weasley, @ronsparky, @dcyllom, @malarkgirlypop

[rpwithoutlimit]

//apologies to the people waiting for me to reply, i have serious thoschie brainrot - but like... 13 and spy master lol. that’s where my muse is right now. whoops.

[gingerteafairy]

𝙋𝙤𝙥𝙪𝙡𝙖𝙧𝙞𝙩𝙮 (𝙖𝙡𝙚𝙭 𝙭 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧)

A heated rivalry turns into love sparks when you and Alex, the undeniably gorgeous genius, clash at a college conference.

tags n warnings: college!au, rivals, angry sex, praise kink, degradation(?), dumbification, maybe ooc alex, semi public sex. word count: 3.4k

Your fingers wouldn’t stop drumming against your arm as you paced nervously back and forth, waiting for the presentation before yours to finish. The girl on stage was flawless, her words flowing effortlessly. She clearly deserved first place. But so did you. Your project was perfect. Countless sleepless nights had brought you to this moment. Your partner, tired of your stress—induced antics, had begged you to calm down more times than you could count. This was the night that could define your future in college if your article was accepted. 

"Pathetic." 

The sharp, low insult startled you, the voice warm against the back of your neck. You jumped forward with a small yelp, slapping a hand over your mouth as every head in the room turned to look at you, including the judges'. 

“Careful now,” Alex said in a hushed tone, his lips curled in amusement as he leaned slightly closer, invading your personal space with infuriating ease. “Wouldn’t want to disrupt Miss Perfect up there. Not that it matters—you’re obviously better than her.”

“She deserves first place,” you hissed, trying to mask the faint stab of envy that twisted in your chest. It wasn’t your fault; she was more experienced, a senior. She did deserve it. Probably.

Alex rolled his eyes, strolling to your side with his hands casually stuffed in his pockets. “Yeah, your face totally says that.” He stepped closer, an irritating proximity that made your skin prickle. You took a deliberate step away. 

“Of course you made the most flawless project again, didn’t you?” you bit out, trying to ignore the simmering tension. 

He smirked. “Oh, doll, you’re putting in the effort too. Maybe this time you’ll snag third place. I’ll happily settle for second—didn’t even try that hard.”

Your fists clenched at your sides. Somehow, Alex always managed to win these conferences. It didn’t matter if his research lacked depth or originality. He still walked away with that curly charming glory that should’ve been yours. When you opened your mouth to retort, your partner tugged on your sleeve, pointing to the digital banner. 

“No way,” you muttered, your heart sinking.

Alex had cut in.  

He turned, walking backward toward the podium with that signature grin plastered on his face. “Wish me luck, doll.”

“Fuck you,” you muttered under your breath, your nails digging into your palms as anger surged through you.  

“Why don’t you come with me?” He winked, then turned to climb the steps, greeting everyone with a handshake that was irritatingly natural.  

Alex presented the same topic he had last year, but his charisma captured the audience’s attention anyway. He thrived in the spotlight, and you hated him for it. He was smart, terribly clever. He was hard—working and beated you in everything. By the time he returned to stand by the wall, that insufferable, victorious smile on his face, you could barely contain your frustration.  

“Your turn,” he said smoothly, his voice low. “Good luck—not that you need it. You’re too good to even be here.”  

You ignored him, marching up to the stage with your partner.  

Your laptop acted up, of course. Perfect. But you recovered, delivering the presentation you had rehearsed a thousand times in the mirror. Every word flowed as planned, your research airtight, your visuals seamless. No negative comments followed. If first place wasn’t yours, it would be an injustice.

When you stepped off the stage, Alex was still there, leaning casually against the wall. His eyes followed you with a sharp intensity that made your skin crawl.  

“Congrats. Better than me,” he greeted softly.  

“Don’t start,” you snapped, brushing past him, but he blocked your path, his smirk replaced by something unreadable.  

“Can you stop being so stubborn and listen for once?” he said, throwing his hands up in mock exasperation.  

You crossed your arms, glaring. “Fine. Talk.”

“Alone.” His voice dropped an octave, the single word heavier with implication. 

You rolled your eyes as your partner backed away with a quick excuse, leaving you alone with him. “What’s so important it can’t be said here?” you challenged, the frustration in your voice barely contained.

Alex’s jaw tightened. “Alone,” he repeated firmly, and something in his tone made you comply, despite the annoyance simmering in your veins.  

“Well?” you prompted, crossing your arms again.  

“Not here,” he said, his voice quieter now, almost uncertain.  

“I’m done with this,” you snapped, spinning on your heel, but his hand caught your wrist, spinning you back around.  

“Would you stop?” His grip wasn’t harsh, but it was enough to halt you. His gaze burned into yours. “I wasn’t joking when I said you’re too good for this place. Your work? It’s miles ahead of theirs. These awards don’t matter—they’re just popularity contests.”

“They matter to me!” you shot back, your voice trembling with anger and unshed tears. He released your wrist, and you stepped back, pressing your lips together to keep the tears at bay. Crying in front of him was the last thing you wanted.

“Are you done now?”  

“No.” His tone was softer this time, and he stepped closer again. “I meant what I said. Your work is brilliant, better than hers or mine. You’re good—too good. It’s like you’re trying to get my attention.” His lips quirked up slightly, but his eyes held a vulnerability that made your heart skip. “And if that’s what you’re doing, it’s working. I can’t stop thinking about you.”  

You blinked, your throat suddenly dry. You hated him, didn’t you? The endless bickering, the way he always seemed to overshadow you. But he was gorgeous. Irritatingly, undeniably gorgeous.  

“For once, I’ve managed to shut you up,” he teased, leaning in closer, his breath warm against your skin.  

“You have such a big ego, you jerk” you muttered, though your lips curved slightly against your will.

“My dick is bigger, wanna see?” he countered, his lips curving into a faint smile.  

You stormed off the place, your pulse pounding in your ears, your hands trembling with the anger that threatened to spill over. Alex’s smug grin as he stood there, basking in the attention, was the last straw. The fact that his words—his infuriatingly sweet, disarming words—still lingered in your head only made it worse.

You pushed past a door, slipping into the quiet dressing—room. The faint hum of the crowd outside still reached you, but here, it was dim, secluded. You leaned against the wall, exhaling sharply as you fought to steady yourself.

Footsteps echoed behind you, slow and deliberate. You didn’t need to turn around to know who it was.

“Wanted a private place?” Alex called out, his voice calm but tinged with a confidence that only irritated you more. “Didn't know you wanted me this much.”

“You're so disgusting.” you snapped, spinning on your heel to face him. “Can't you think of something that is not your dick? Working in a sex store destroyed your brains that much?” 

“Damn, when was the last time someone fucked you?” His mocking words hit you like a punch to the gut. “Maybe that's why you're so stressed, I could hand you a good discount on dildo section, but I guarantee mine is better. You know, natural. Less plastic. Healthy planet.”

“Why are you here? Haven’t you humiliated me enough tonight?” You cut off.

Alex raised his hands, palms out in mock surrender, though his smirk still lingered. “Humiliate you? Come on, you held your own out there. You were incredible, and you know it.”

“You don’t get to say that!” you shot back, your voice rising. “You always do this, Alex. You get under my skin, make me doubt everything, and then—then you swoop in like you care.”

“I do care,” he said, his tone suddenly serious. The smirk was gone, replaced by an expression you couldn’t quite read.

You laughed bitterly, shaking your head. “Right. You care so much that you made sure to go before me, knowing exactly how it would throw me off. You care so much that you couldn’t help but provoke me every step of the way.”

“I followed you because I care,” he interrupted, stepping closer. “Because I can’t just let you walk away like this.”

You took a step back, the wall pressing against your shoulders. “Well, maybe you should’ve thought about that before you decided to make me feel like an idiot in front of everyone.”

“I didn’t mean to—”

“Save it, Alex,” you cut him off, your voice cracking under the weight of your emotions. “I don’t need your fake compliments or your half—assed apologies.”

For a moment, he said nothing, just stared at you with an intensity that made your chest tighten. Then he closed the distance between you in two strides.

“Do you know how frustrating you are?” he asked, his voice low, his eyes locking with yours, pinning you against the wall with his arms. “You’re brilliant, stubborn, and you don’t take crap from anyone—not even me. You think I don’t notice how hard you work, how much this all means to you? You think I don’t see how you light up when you’re passionate about something?”

Your breath hitched, your words caught in your throat.

“I didn’t come here to fight with you,” he continued, his voice softening. “I came here because I can’t stand seeing you like this. Because you’re in my head, all the damn time, and no matter how much we argue, no matter how much I try to push it away, I can’t stop thinking about you.”

Alex’s gaze lingered on you, heavy and unrelenting, as if he was waiting for something. You stood there, fists clenched at your sides, trying to process his sudden confession.

“Why’d you do it?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. The question was loaded, layered with all the frustrations, late—night arguments, and the ever—present tension between you.  

“Do what?” he replied, his voice softer than you’d ever heard.  

“This!” You gestured between the two of you. “You drive me insane. You humiliate me, you’re constantly one step ahead, and now you’re standing here saying you can’t stop thinking about me?” 

He let out a low chuckle, though there was no mockery in it this time. “I do it because I don’t know how else to get your attention,” he admitted, his tone raw and unguarded. “You challenge me, you push me, and, yeah, maybe I’ve been a jerk sometimes. But you’re the only one who’s ever made me feel like I could be better, like I need to be better. You deserve a man as clever as you or you’ll get bored without it and deep down on your fucking pretty head you want me and know no one can fuck you like I can, like you fucking deserve it.”

You stared at him, stunned into silence. His usual arrogance was nowhere to be found. Instead, his eyes held a vulnerability you’d never thought possible.  

“Against the wall or chair?” you asked quietly, though your voice lacked conviction.  

“What?” he replied, widening his eyes, unsure of what you just said. Or if you said it. 

“Fucking.”You sighed, leaning into him despite yourself. “You said no one can fuck me like you can, so why don't you stop teasing me and fuck me straight to the point? Do me a favor.”

He closed the gap, his lips crashing into yours with a force that silenced every word, every thought. Your hands flew to his chest clutched at the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer.

The kiss was desperate, messy, and full of everything you’d both left unsaid. It wasn’t soft or gentle—it was raw, fueled by frustration, passion, and the undeniable connection that had been building between you for far too long.

When you finally broke apart, your breathing was ragged, your forehead resting against his.

“I hate you,” you muttered, though the words came out weaker this time, almost a whisper.

Alex chuckled softly, his lips brushing against yours as he spoke. “No, you don’t. But I’ll let you keep saying it if it makes you feel better. And answering your question, I'll make you cum here and now. Is that good enough for you?” 

Before you could respond, his lips were on yours again. Your hands went to the hem of Alex’s shirt, taking it off his body, breaking the kiss only to pull the shirt over his head and throw it on the floor. He takes the opportunity to do the same with your shirt, sinking his fingers into your waist tightly to pull you closer for the kiss, and repeatedly nibbling on your lower lip.

You try to remove his belt while he pulls down your bra to access your breasts, squeezing them without the slightest gentleness. You were both angry and that was enough fuel for that desire to be explosive. When you managed to undo the belt and the button of your pants to lower it along with his underwear, Alex lifted the hem of your pencil skirt, rolling it up to your waist.

You moaned weakly when he pushed your panties aside and tried your clit with circular movements to spread your excitement so he could put his fingers at your entrance.

"Fuck, you're so fucking tight." He grunts, pushing two fingers up to the knuckles to start going in and out of it, soaking.

You moaned, feeling your bones go soft like jelly as you took his cock in your hands to jerk him off at the same speed his fingers fucked you.

“Alex, im not gonna last longer if you keep— fuck— like this.” You mewl, clenching on his fingers, sweaty forming across your erogenous face. 

“Fuck it. Come on my fingers, my slut.” He groaned, increasing the pace as he rocked his hips, but you slapped his face. He looked at you stunned, caressing his reddened cheek with his free hand. “Why the fuck you did that?”

“Don't fucking call me slut, Alex. I—hmmmm— still hate you.” you mewl, trembling and he took off his fingers, grinning watching you cry out. “Why’d you do that?”

“You won't cum if you keep talking to me like that.” He hoarses, thumb brushing gently over your bud. 

“You want me quiet? Make me, Alex.” You provoke, shutting by his hand slapping your thigh, placing it by his waist, secured by his strong hand. 

“I don't wanna you quiet, my little pretty slut. I want you screaming f’ me,” He breathed, pushing the tip inside unceremoniously making you moan loudly and anchor yourself into his neck, feeling all that pleasure making you feel boneless. “Yeah, just like this.”

You whined, Alex just captured your lips again while he swayed his hips back and forth deep inside you. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer, the kiss deepening with a passion that had been simmering beneath the surface for far too long.

“I told you. I'd make you feel good.” he groaned, breaking the kiss. Your breath hitched as his hand came up, gently brushing a strand of hair from your face, cupping your cheeks firmly to watch you still trying not to look crazy with pleasure as his size hit the right spot. “No one can make you feel good like that, no one deserves you more than me, no one can fuck you like I can, you hear me?”

You giggled, rolling your eyes, grinding on his cock. "Is that all, Alex? Anyone can do that. FUCK!" You screamed when he slapped your thigh. He brutally pulled out of you, turning you to face the wall.

"Alex, what are you doing? OH MY GOD." You yelled, feeling him put his cock back in to fuck you with much more force than before. You hurt his ego. You never would have thought how delicious he would feel thrusting like that.

“Better now?" he whispered in your ear, reaching up to pull your hair back, meeting your tear—stained, drool—streaked face, the perfect portrait for him. He planted a sweet kiss on your lips. "If you wanted me to fuck you hard—God—, all you had to do was ask, sweetie."

You whimpered, your body couldn't handle so much pleasure, you were falling and he noticed, chuckling softly in your ear, which made you shiver. "What's wrong? Gonna cum?"

"Please, Alex," You begged, shaking, your legs aching and you knew you were already marked red enough for everyone to see what you did. “Please, let me cum, please. Please, sweetie?”

He chuckled, driving his hand to pinch your nipples. “Will you—shit—say you're mine? Holy fuck, your pussy is delicious. Say it. Say you're mine.”

“I’m yours, only yours. Jesus.” You sobbed as shockwaves hit you. Alex held you, preventing you from falling with gentle care while you trembled, making his thrusts slow so you wouldn't fall.

“You have no idea how much I wanted to hear that.” 

He turned you around, picking you up easily like a ragdoll by his lap to lay you down on the dressing room sofa. He got on top, pecking your face affectionately while slowly pressing his length into your pussy. A soft lazy kiss came from his lips and you kissed him back, hands gripping on his shoulder as he penetrated you on a completely different level from seconds ago. 

“you can take a little more, can you?” he whispered on your face, nipping your bottom lip. You nodded, blissed out. Your late orgasm was still acting on you, tightening him up.

“Hmmm—keep going…yeah, Alex—just…just like that, baby.” you babbled, reaching the back of his neck to kiss him again with a gentle passion unknown for both of you. “do, that again, shit, shit…you're so fucking good f' me, Alex.”

“Oh, fuck. I should record you so you see how fucking hot you are sucking my cock with your perfect pussy.” He groaned, sitting on his knees, pushing you closer. You grinded, the position making his cock go even deeper in you. “Yeah, spread your legs. Let me see how much you love being fucked by me. Wider, doll.”

You bite your lips, obeying him, tightening your velvety walls purposely just to see him frowning in pleasure, opening his mouth delighted. “Is it good?” You teased innocently, doing it again.

“fuck, that was so hot. Do that again,” He grunted, ghosting his hands on your pearl to rub it slightly. You hummed, grinding on him. He used his other hand to slap your thigh, pushing you once more on a rapid rocking. You knew he was close judging by how sloppy his thrusts became.

“Faster—fuck, fuck—harder, Alex… hmmm…” you arch your back, feeling him doing as you ordered, burying his fingers into the soft skin of your waist.

"God, you feel so fucking good." He whimpered. "You hated me and now beg for me to fuck you harder? You're such a good slut. Here, take it, take it all, hun.Hmmm, m gonna cum inside you, is that what you want or youre dumb enough so you can't reply? My cock's shutted you finally? You're so sweet, baby, i love you. so much, mmm"

He hrew his head back, fucking himself to reach his own pleasure, slapping skins and wet sounds filled the moment, having you shivering. Fuck, you could live in this moment forever. He looked at you once more, reaching his peak. The hot strands hitting the bottom of your womb as he moaned on the last, resting his body on yours.

You remained silent, feeling hoarse as your chest rose and fell with heavy breathing. Alex curls were glued to his head as he looked at you smiling, kissing your lips sweetly. 

When you finally pulled away, both of you were breathless, your foreheads resting together.  “I hate you,” you whispered again, though the words held no weight.  

He chuckled, his cheek warming up. “No, you don’t,” his voice warm and teasing.  

“You make me crazy, Alex.”   

“Good,” he murmured, a soft smile playing on his lips. “Because you drive me insane. Now let's get ready, I need to show you how much you nailed me in the presentation.”

“How?” You smiled. 

“Just saying how that judges are ass and they don't understand a single thing about reading articles just to give for a total weirdo like me.” he chuckled, pushing your body to raise but you pulled him back again on top of you. “What? You know I'll do anything for you.”

“I know. Don't mind.” You giggled, kissing him.“That shit is just popularity anyway. And I'll beat you at Friday's test.”

[totally-not-a-mutant]

Ooc:

Every single character I like or even slightly relate to is some kind of non-verbal in my mind. That's just how it is.

Scott Summers? Talking is incredibly draining for him and he loses words fast. He's gotten better at it over the years but he still gets very stressed and sometimes angry if someone tries to talk to him when he is non-verbal. Has learned ASL and uses communication cards.

Alex Summers? Doesn't talk unless he find it incredibly important. Doesn't bother with AAC, if you don't know what he means through his body language then clearly you don't need to know what he is trying to communicate. Gets volatile when people try to make him speak. (Can you tell I hc the Summers brothers as having tempers? And being autistic. That's also important. In fact, their tempers and autism go hand in hand. I could make a whole separate post about this.)

Logan? Doesn't speak unless directly spoken to and will not answer stupid questions. Doesn't talk with more than a few words at a time unless he deems it necessary.

Charles Xavier? Finds verbal communication to be useless and somewhat constrained by human language, prefers to talk telepathically where he can also communicate through emotions and images.

Jean Grey? She has selective mutism caused by severe social anxiety.

I could do more but I'll keep it at here for now. This also goes for other fandoms too but I stuck to x-men cause, ya know, x-men blog. Anyway, if you want you guys should send me character and I will deem if they are some type of non-verbal and why.

[sashimj]

COLLAPSE (oc (my male y/n) x canon fic! i finally cooked🫠😤)

summary: tom riddle is trying to find a way to make the perfect potion. he thinks that the secret lies in precise calculation and following instructions. however, his new potions partner thinks a little differently and, to tom's great indignation, turns out to be right. working in a team now seems not as terrible as tom initially thought because, for some reason, his newfound partner unintentionally showed him a whole new kind of witchcraft.

notes (MUST-READ!!!): ooc!tom i think..., it's an oc/canon fic, but you can read it as a y/n fic, or just replace my oc with your own if you have one! i'll be PLEASED AS HELL if you do so! this fic, or rather the one phrase in it (it's the highlighted in bold one) is inspired by the movie "Pi" 1998, and I ADVISE YOU TO WATCH IT, it's amazing! both characters are fifteen in this fic.

BTW, english isn't my first language, so i'm extremely sorry if there are mistakes!

word count: 1.4k

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Professor Slughorn's suggestion to work in pairs seemed irrational to Tom. Yes, of course, it was a certain experience, but only when you were experimenting, not honing the skill. Oh, and the partner himself was actually unknown to him - a strange boy with a strange name. Xander Alex Sashimj, a metamorphmagus, from Hufflepuff. Tom had heard of his ‘special approach’, and potions ability, thanks to Slughorn, but had never seen them in action, as he and this student had never encountered each other in the same class until the current fifth year. Well, Tom was slightly intrigued. Slightly.

Taking his usual seat, Tom looked around the classroom. Everyone was slowly pairing. Mostly by choice. Slytherins with Slytherins, sometimes with Ravenclaws. Gryffindors with everyone around them except the Slytherins. As usual.

The smell of various herbs and plants gave the potions class a special atmosphere. It was already quite stuffy in the room, and so the mixture of different aromas was slightly stupefying. Especially horklump juice and lavender that were on a nearby table. Tom exhaled and wiped his hands. That gesture showed a growing irritation that was quite inherent in his life. Where the hell was his new affiliate?

The door to the classroom creaked open, and three Hufflepuffs appeared on the doorstep. Sashimj was among them, smiling at something. He greeted Professor Slughorn and looked timidly around for his Slytherin partner. Tom was staring at him point-blank. Seeing his seat, Xander walked faster towards it and sat across from his new partner.

"Hello. We're kind of working together now, aren't we? " Sashimj tried to start a conversation by smiling awkwardly at Tom. Riddle unconsciously and imperceptibly looked at him with an appraising eye. It was possible to do so since they were next to each other now. Short, with disheveled hair and an awkward look. There was a mixture of anxiety and excitement in his eyes.

"Turns out that we are." Tom answered a little indifferently.

"Sashimj," the Hufflepuff extended his hand sharply for a handshake, but suddenly pulled it back slightly, "Xander Sashimj. Just call me by my last name."

Tom hesitated, still studying the student in front of him.

"Tom Riddle," He replied, shaking the hand of his new acquaintance, “Nice to meet you,” he forced himself to say it.

Sashimj nodded, glancing at the ingredients on the table. He was about to ask something when Professor Slughorn spoke. Today's potion to be brewed was Wit-Sharpening Potion. It was the penultimate lesson of practicing brewing this potion and consolidating information about it before a small exam. Tom sighed audibly. He didn't like this potion. It wasn't working out the way he wanted it to, and every time, Riddle seemed to be missing something. His previous potions were of high quality and worked as intended, but Tom wanted perfection. To taste that flawless result, at least.

Sashimj, on the other hand, beamed at the mention of Wit-Sharpening Potion. He rolled up his sleeves and opened his notebook, looking through some of the entries to refresh his memory. Meanwhile, Tom had already started his work at this point. He tensed slightly, measuring the dosage of each ingredient literally to the milligrams. Some of the tension showed up on his face. Xander watched his actions and over-concentration, raising an eyebrow in confusion.

"W-Why do you need such measurements? It's not like it's a medicinal potion. It'll work fine as it is..." the Hufflepuff boy struggled to open one of his ingredients and glanced at Tom, starting the work with his usual actions. Riddle paused and gritted his teeth slightly. He didn't expect a different reaction.

"I just aim to achieve a decent result."

It was perhaps the flawlessness that Tom wanted, which only a few could archive in the potion making process. That seemed like the very trait of Slytherins, who always strived for perfection in any endeavor. Riddle hadn't mentioned it, but Xander could guess it himself.

"Quite a meticulous approach," Sashimj chuckled, trying to ease the tension. It didn't work well judging by the still uneasy look on Riddle's face.

"A proven one. It wouldn't work otherwise," Tom replied confidently, trying to hide the fact of his past failures. But he was tempted to ask his new partner if he had anything to offer, "Do you have any suggestions?"

His question sounded more mocking than interested. Tom glanced over at the Hufflepuff, who was smiling again for some reason.

"Well... Maybe the problem is in that exactly... I-I mean, maybe you're thinking too much? Sometimes you could use more of, well, your own senses or creativity..."

Tom found himself in a bit of a stupor after hearing that. He was thinking a lot?

"That legitimately sounds like something I'd expect to hear from some Ravenclaw," Tom grinned wryly. He could barely keep from smirking as he saw Sashimj pouting at his words slightly. "What do you mean?"

Xander sighed, drew his lips into a fine line, and frowned at Tom, trying to look into his eyes more seriously.

"Don't be so thorough, sort of," Sashimj shrugged, trying to explain his approach, "Just do as you feel," the boy nodded towards his cauldron. All that time, he worked spontaneously and even kind of sloppily, stirring the bubbling liquid rhythmically. So far, it was a right lime color, with no swampy hues.

"You mean measuring by eye? "Riddle asked. The way Sashimj described it made him laugh internally. It was just an obvious reluctance to follow instructions. There was no special 'hidden' meaning here, was there?

"Well... not really," Xander chuckled awkwardly, "I mean relaxing."

Curiosity flared up inside the Slytherin. Alright, he will try. Just for the sake of showing his negligent partner that it didn't work and wouldn't work that way. Tom exhaled and concentrated again. He continued his work not so 'meticulously' anymore. Or so he thought.

"Tom," a quiet voice came from the opposite side, "you're thinking too much again..."

Riddle raised an eyebrow.

"Stop thinking, Tom. Just feel. Use your intuition." Sashimj explained, almost without looking up from his work. He finished his potion and showed the filled vial to Tom, thus completing the task faster than anyone else in the class. The potion was the right shade, not muddy as it often was, and had a clear odor with no impurities.

Tom's face didn't change, but his eyes were a little rounder. He wanted to open his mouth, either to object or out of indignation.

"Try it. Turn your head off and trust yourself," Sashimj nodded towards the cauldron in front of Tom, trying to encourage his partner. He raised his hand for Professor Slughorn to check his work. After a quick examination, Slughorn praised his student, saying something about Hogwarts being lucky to have so many talented young wizards and witches this year.

Riddle bit his lip, fighting his own feelings. He really had always relied on his own calculations to the exclusion of any spontaneity or freedom. And it was even funny, considering his existing desire to break a certain order as a way to achieve his goals.

He exhaled and relaxed. The boy was still looking at it skeptically, but the earlier desire to taste the flawless result was slowly being replaced by a desire to taste his own talent and his own feelings that were shoved deep inside his mind.

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The work he had done felt different than before. Tom had a natural predisposition for potions, but the process itself had always involved him calculating and following instructions. Now, however, it was as if everything was different. And the potion was different as well. Tom could see that it was fresher and more pure than any of his previous potions. Riddle grinned to himself, thinking he'd been tricked. More likely, though, he was just afraid to admit that it was perfect.

This was confirmed to him by Slughorn, who checked the students' work at the end of class. He had always expected a lot from Tom, but he was surprised at the amazing result he had achieved when paired with another student. The professor confirmed that his decision to pair up two talented kids was the right one, feeling the good result even more to his own credit.

Thus, Sashimj, who had been working alone all this time, became interested in working with a new partner, especially a Slytherin. Meanwhile, Tom became interested in Sashimj, a boy who seemed to have shown him a type of magic completely unknown to him before.

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THANK YOU FOR READING!!! btw, that's how sashimj looks like in detail, plus some info about him!

[rainee-da]

Hello <3

Is it ok to request the "What they said when you're sleeping" but with the Divine Visionaries? Tysm!

🍀 The Talk When You Sleep [2]

CHARACTER ❥ Orter Mádl ⏳ / Sophina Biblia 📕 / Tsurara Halestone ❄️

W A R N I N G ⚠️ R13 for general fluff w/ slight angst as spice / Relationship HCS / BIG SPOILER!!!! / might be a bit too OOC for you.

O R T E R M Á D L ⏳

he opened the door to your bedroom and sighed loudly "Seriously? We're supposed to be at the office at 9 o'clock, and you're still sleeping in your bed? Your laziness is absolutely revolt-" he shook his head in annoyance and marched closer, but stopped abruptly as his hand hovers in the air "That eyebags... you must be staying up late again," he sighed and sit at the edge of your bed, thinking for a while "There's no urgency... I suppose it's fine to let you be for some more," his face is annoyed as he loosened the tie in his neck he looked up the window, his expression remained unchanged "Yesterday was quite frivolous, I didn't remember there was anything in particular happening... what made you stay up late?" he mumbled as he turned his head to watch your face "Are you overthinking again? Or is there something that I missed?" he frowned as he is thinking to himself, before sighing again "No matter... we'll just sleep together later at night so I can fix your sleep habit, should've done so for a long time anyway." he brushes your hair to the side with his finger, his frown softens slightly "Your expression is good, and your temperature is normal. At least you're not sick physically," his hand moves to stroke your cheek as he enjoys the silence for a while, his expression grows solemn as the deep thought overwhelms his mind "Every time I see you as innocent as this, I always wonder... Why do you want to be with someone like me?" his finger rubs your eyelids gently "I rarely said this to you, and I know I should, but... You're a smart person. You're strong, able to defend yourself when danger strikes. You also had good friends that cherish you," he tilted his head as he got immersed by your face "You're... a beauty, so beautiful that it made me wonder how many people felt envious when we made us official... And, most important of all," he paused as the word got caught up in his throat, he blinks rapidly to clear some of his senses "You're so altruistic, so kind... unlike me." he chuckled lowly "I don't even know how many people have died by my wands, for the sake of order," he sighed as he turned his eyes away to stare at the view outside the window "Order is made for a reason. I believe that as long as the order is properly maintained, there will be no more Alex in the world. No people would get hurt anymore... But," he paused "The whole incident with Innocent Zero made me reconsider those beliefs... But, if my actions all this time were wrong, " he paused, his face darkened "Wouldn't that make me.. a. criminal?" he sighed, rubbing his face wearily "No use thinking about that now. It only brings unnecessary questions that will hinder my rationality," his gaze shifted to you and his mouth formed into a thin smile "It's a new dawn, and the citizen will need to get used to the new order. A riot would be inevitable, and bringing the previous sense of normalcy would be a grueling task ahead for the Divine Visionaries. But," he leans in and gives your lips a chaste kiss "With you, I believe I'll do well—maybe even better than before." "𝘼𝙛𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙖𝙡𝙡, 𝙄'𝙢 𝙣𝙤 𝙡𝙤𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙧 𝙖𝙡𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙣𝙤𝙬."

S O P H I N A B I B L I A 📕

"Oh my, the way you sleep is so vulgar! This won't do," she hurriedly move to fix your sleeping position and remove her coat to put it over you "There, all better," she smiles in satisfaction as she move your head to put it over her lap "You really had no grace, sleeping during work hours like this... you're lucky I'm more pliable than Mr. Madl." she sighed and shake her head as she opened the book in her hand to starts reading "Well, I'm only this pliable towards you if I'm being honest. If Mr. Revol's the one who's doing this, I would've already cursed him so he would dance bare-naked in the courtyard," she coughed softly and hums to stop herself from laughing "That's... such a tasteless threats coming from me, I can't believe I just said that." she tried to focus on reading but her mind is wandering "Let's see... Didn't you promises me that you would never napped at work anymore? So I think a punisment should be in order, no?" the thoughts in her head brings subtle-yet mischievous smile in her stoic face "What if, you have to cook dinner for a week? Or maybe I'll make you read one of my books? That's not really a punishment though," she tapped her chin as she's thinking "Or, I could also punish you," she leaned closer and blow into your ear "Like this? Fufu, you're so cute when you're wincing like that." she sighed and close the book to put it on the side, and her hand moves to brush your hair gently "You bring out sides of me that I never thought I have..." a soft smile formed on her face "For example... I never thought that feeling your hair against my fingertips like this could be so addicting," she lightly pinched the tip of your nose, and giggles at your reaction "Or that teasing you would be so much fun? Your reaction is so lively, it's never boring to be around you," she sighed and close her eyes as she lost in her own thoughts "Being with you has become one of my hobbies... Fresh scent of new book will never compare to the scent of your fragnance, and reading become a chores if you're not by my side," she smiles dreamily, slowly getting sleepy "Your influence is kaleidoscope of color in my life, I never thought that something as abstract as you would be so enjoyable... Really, I would trade everything in the world, if it means we could always be together like this," her hand lied in your chest as she slowly dozed off "𝙄 𝙬𝙞𝙨𝙝 𝙬𝙚 𝙬𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙖𝙡𝙬𝙖𝙮𝙨 𝙬𝙧𝙞𝙩𝙚 '𝙤𝙪𝙧' 𝙨𝙩𝙤𝙧𝙮, 𝙩𝙤𝙜𝙚𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧"

T S U R A R A H A L E S T O N E ❄️

"Brrrr…. oh, you're asleep?" she lowered her hand from her mouth, her body shakes slightly "I guess you've been waiting for long… I'm sorry," she walked towards you, her face expresses remorse "I should woke you up, don't I? But… brrrr…. let me use your body to warm up first… You don't mind, right?" she lied beside your sleeping figure, and snuggle closer to your side "Hehe… your body is so warm," she smiles dreamily as she hugs your body "I'm sorry that it took me so long to finish my work… I was getting in the zone with my research, and finally made some progress… But then," her gloved hand move towards your neck to rub it gently "The heater suddenly broke down… I have to waited for the mechanic to arrive, and I didn't realize that it was already this late" she sighed and closed her eyes, looking exhausted "I should've told you to go home early... I'm sorry that you have to wait for me." her body shakes again, and she lay her head on your chest "Brrrr... Why is it so cold," she lost in her own thought as she listen to your heartbeat, a soft smile formed in her face "Your heartbeat is steady, that's good... I always used your body as my warmer, and I know you said that you didn't mind that one bit... " she blushes and shyly buried her face to your neck "... But I hope you're not forcing yourself... My magic made my body cold, I didn't want you to get sick because of me." she stumbles as she risen up, her smile is warm and her hand is stroking your cheek "I think soon enough I can make some potion that will help keep my body warm temporarily! Tomorrow I'll show it to you! I don't know how long the effects would last... But," she leans in to kiss your cheek, accidentally biting her inner cheek out of nervousness "Ouch! Eh, what I'm saying is, with those potions we, hopefully, can starts hanging out outside! Do some dinner date, movie night at cinema, stuff that I know you want to do but you never asked out of consideration for me. " she hums happily as she snuggle closer to your cheek "You're warm," her eyes is full of adoration as she stares at your sleeping face "I love that the most about you... You're such a warm person. You're patient with me, even though sometimes my magic combined with my clumsiness causes you trouble. But you're always being so kind with me... It made me so happy," she turns to look at the clock "Ah, It's already this late! I should wake you up now." "𝙊𝙣𝙡𝙮 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚 𝙘𝙖𝙣 𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙢 𝙢𝙮 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙩."

Long time no see! I've been busy with my irl stuff and just finally got the time to write again. I kinda projecting on some of the characters lol I hope you don't mind... I originally planned to write for all of them, but I decided to split it into different parts since when I'm writing this I have a severe case of writer's block lolol. I promises that the rest of them will be uploaded in due time!

I've made similar prompt before w/ Devil's Quintuplet+Cell War so check it out! And I tried to make it as less OOC as I possibly could, but I don't know if it will suits your interpretation. I hope you like it all the same though! Thank you anon for your request 🍀 and thank you for reading!