#pranks and tempers

[larryhappiday]

I Want You Back Cos of The Car

[kurooh]

I’MA MAKE U SCREAM ★ S. GOJO & S. GETO

⊹₊˚. a series of unrelenting, mysterious phone calls late at night leads to you being sandwiched between two hot ghostface slashers who’ve got you fucking for your life.

warnings. 18+ content — mdni, fem! reader, ghostface! gojo & geto, threesome, knife play, landline phones, mentions of death, oral (f receiving), double penetration, anal/fingering, tongue piercings, pussy slapping, biting. 5.2K words whew (pls read anyway 🧎‍♀️)

xoxo, juno. happy halloween!! thank you to my dearest wolfy anon for beta reading <33 comment & rb if you enjoyed!!! 🎃

“hello?”

“why don’t you wanna talk with me?”

“who is this?” you roll your eyes, unimpressed by the cheery voice coming through the phone. “it’s like eleven at night, what do you want?”

“ya tell me your name, and i’ll tell ya mine,” that voice lilts into a teasing tone, words dripping with persuasive sweetness.

“nah, i’m heading to bed. nice talk.”

“aw, bedtime already? you’re not even gonna watch a movie before you sleep?” the question has your brows furrowing in aggravation, but you sigh, choosing to answer anyway.

“i didn’t have anything in mind,” the caller lets out a laugh, straight into your ear. “what, you’ve got a suggestion?”

“do you like scary movies?” and you can hear the smile in the caller’s voice; he’s amused, probably laughing with his friends over the prank call in the moments of muffled silence.

“i suppose so.”

“don’t you have a favorite? why not watch it?”

“well, i won’t be able to sleep,” you reply simply, twirling the phone cord between your fingers. “but the longer we talk, the more sleep i lose out on. so, have a good night!”

“wait!” the caller snaps, demanding as ever. the sudden outburst sends chills straight down your spine. “don’t hang up on me.”

“and why shouldn’t i?” the blatant defiance has the caller letting out a laugh that sounds rather menacing . . he clears his throat, seemingly returning to his more even tempered tone.

“we’re not done talking,” he says simply, sounding a little crackly through the phone. “so don’t hang up, you’ll—”

a rational person with an interest in talking would certainly call during the day, and only once or twice before quitting altogether to wait for a call back. an irrational person would have your house phones ringing off the hooks while you were in the shower, calling nonstop and then getting far too arrogant once you finally picked up. just as you slam the phone back down, it starts to ring again.

you decide to leave the room, figuring that the caller will tire himself out quickly, but he doesn’t. in the time that you left the phone to go to another room, there wasn’t a single beat of silence. furious, you race toward the phone, fingers sliding on the kitchen counter as you snatch it up.

“fuck you! listen to me, you’d better stop—”

“no, you listen to me,” the caller snarls, and the harshness of his voice has your heart kicking hard against your rib cage. something in your gut tells you that this isn’t just a talkative caller. “don’t fucking hang up on me again, got that?”

you recover some of your composure, goosebumps rising on your skin. the cool breeze blowing through a nearby window adds to the chilling feeling that’s washed over you in only a matter of seconds. “w-well, what do you want, then?”

“i wanna see your insides, dummy,” is the crazed response, and you can’t stop the way your face immediately twists in horror. a clicking sound is heard as the second phone in your house—the one upstairs—is picked up, and another person hops onto the call.

“now, now,” this new voice is smooth, immediately drawing your attention as you listen attentively through the phone. “that’s no way to talk, you’ll scare her silly.”

“what the fuck?” you ask aloud, although you hadn’t meant to. all you can think about is the fact that two weirdos have you almost . . cornered on the phone.

the crazy voice scoffs, ignoring your mumbling. “well, you heard her! trying to hang up and shit,” he clicks his tongue in disapproval before sighing. “anyway, where were we?”

you don’t even say anything, and the other voice exhales into the phone. “see, look at what you’ve gone and done now. our girl’s too scared to talk to us, isn’t she?”

“look, i-i’m just gonna go to bed. goodnight.”

“you’re not going anywhere, honey,” the calmer one of the two says, but this time his voice is much clearer, almost as if he’s standing beside you. you take a step backward, trying to shake off the weird feelings and relentless goosebumps spreading across your skin.

you might as well be wearing nothing.

the satin slip dress you were planning to sleep in is as thin as plastic wrap; you’ve backed up into someone’s strong chest and thanks to the thinness of your pajamas, you can feel each sharp ridge of muscle. the pecs are strong, firm to the touch, and the abs are hard enough to cut diamonds. fear races through your body, so overwhelming that your lips part to let out a scream—but the noise is muffled by a large palm that pulls you back, flush against the muscles. separated only by a few layers of clothing, you can feel the warmth of their body and the casual rise of their chest as they breathe. if you weren’t being silenced, this would be comforting, in a way.

“promise you won’t scream, baby?” that calm voice has a dangerous edge; you nod immediately, frantically, desperately — as you feel a few tears gather in your eyes. this . . does not look, feel, or sound good in any way imaginable. who even are these people? and why you? a seemingly normal thursday evening had gone entirely downhill, and you didn’t even know why.

“good girl,” the person hums, dropping their hand from the lower half of your face and instead replacing it with the sharp edge of a knife. “let’s head upstairs, shall we?” as you ascend the steps, the blade drops lower, until it hovers over the tender skin of your throat. you can’t even turn around and see who the person is, for fear of getting cut over the simple action.

“could i at least turn around?”

“what for?” he asks, nudging the bedroom door open. you’re met with the frightening sight of a person in robes lounging on your bed, against your pillows. they have a spooky, ghostly mask, but you know who it is the second their mouth opens.

“you took the knives out that quickly?” the figure clicks his tongue, raising a hand to his face to pull off the ghostface mask. so this is what this is—some kind of ridiculous scream roleplay . . but the feel of the knife and the way it gleams is too real. “what happened to playing around, suguru?”

“it’s—it’s you! from the phone.” you say, straining against the man behind you, who pulls the knife a few inches away from your throat.

“careful now, doll. you’ll hurt yourself.”

“if you let me go, maybe i’d—” the man on the bed sits up then, pulling off his mask. you can’t see who he is just yet, the shadow from his hood obscuring his face. in a moment, he grabs hold of your face with a gloved hand, fingers squeezing cruelly at your cheeks.

it’s utterly nasty, the way feelings of attraction twist in your stomach. heat rises to your cheeks and you swallow, looking into diamond blue eyes that have your heart fluttering despicably. how is it possible to even be focused on your grim reaper’s looks, almost entirely forgetting their intentions as you lose yourself in those eyes?

“cat got your tongue? i said i wanna see your insides and you didn’t even look fazed.”

beneath the robe, you can see the tips of snowy hair, along with a face that’s far too handsome to belong to some kind of murderer. you shake your head in disbelief, sucking in a breath. “uh . . huh? sorry, i didn’t hear you.”

he drops your face with an annoyed scoff, stepping back to plop down on your bed before fully pulling off his hood. “y’know what—suguru, you deal with her.”

the man behind you pushes you forward, and you awkwardly take a seat beside the sighing killer. suguru tugs off his mask and inspects the knife closely, running a gloved finger over the edge before nodding. “might as well use the knives on you. maybe you’ll hear us then?”

“what’re you—why’re you doing all this?” you ask, the words sputtering out of your mouth nervously. “is there any way i can convince you not to cut me open?”

suguru looks at his literal partner in crime, pushing his black bangs away from his eyes as he speaks. “oh? trying to cheat death, sweet thing?”

you shrug, casually flopping onto your back. the satiny fabric of your dress flips up, and you unintentionally give both of them a great view of your panties. now that they’re deliberating how to move forward with you, the fear of the situation has dissipated greatly. “i just wanna go to bed and live to see another day tomorrow. name the price for my life and i’ll pay it.”

“those are fighting words,” suguru remarks, “don’t you agree, satoru?”

satoru nods, eyes glued to the thin fabric covering what’s between your legs. his mind runs wild as he imagines what he and suguru could impose on you. they’re practically in sync—suguru looks over just as satoru looks up, the two of them sharing a knowing look.

“hmph. sit up and listen.” satoru nudges your thigh, and you do as he says, looking bored. the whole night has done one too many 180s, giving you the most severe case of whiplash in your life. you’d initially been annoyed, terrified, then mildly attracted, and now . . almost indifferent.

“you’ve got my full attention.”

“we’ll let you live, on one condition,” satoru raises a finger before you can object, while suguru’s eyes covertly sweep over your body. “think you could handle us at the same time?”

a proposition for a threesome is something you certainly did not see coming! you bite the inside of your cheek, willing yourself to maintain composure. suguru spices it up with a smirk, dragging that sharp knife of his along the edge of your jaw.

“you’ll have to fuck like your life depends on it.”

it does. tension weighs the air down, filling the room with a thickness even suguru’s knife couldn’t cut through. sweat beads along the skin of your spine and you exhale in defeat. being between these two would be hard—in all ways possible; but one mistake and they’d probably end up slitting your throat.

truthfully, you’re willing to risk it. most girls don’t usually cross paths with two men that are each extremely attractive and willing to share you between one another. you squeeze your thighs together, an action that doesn’t go unnoticed by either of them.

“y-yeah, okay. i’ll do it.”

“atta girl,” satoru praises, the corners of his eyes crinkling. a wicked smile finds its way onto his rosy lips, but you don’t back down, instead spreading your legs. you look between them, a silent invitation extended in one glance.

“lie back for us.”

“you were the one who told me to sit up—” perhaps the unnecessary snark isn’t a good idea, not with the way suguru eyes you warily.

satoru leans in hastily, connecting his lips with yours to effectively shut you up. his body barrels into yours, pushing you into suguru, who catches you and cages you against his strong chest. the knife is abandoned as he strokes his fingertips along the tender skin of your neck, sighing into your ear while satoru occupies your lips.

“so pretty. heh, you’re pretty every night.”

suguru’s touch has you letting out a moan that satoru eagerly swallows, his gloved hands roaming your body. however, he seems to remember he’s got gloves on; without pulling away, he snatches them off.

“her tits, suguru—play with her tits.”

the mumbled words are audible only to suguru, who complies with a chuckle. unlike satoru, he makes no move to do away with his gloves. you moan, his hands squeezing at your tits while his fingertips stroke over your nipples until they grow hard.

“s-suguru,” you mewl, pulling away for a moment to suck a breath into your deprived lungs, “keep touching me there—just like that.”

satoru’s palm comes down hard against the side of your thigh, and he grips your face, forcing you to look at him. “focus on me, got that? wouldn’t want him to stop, would you?”

you shake your head, and in a split second, satoru’s got your upper lip between his teeth. he bites down playfully; the impact makes you gasp, and he seizes the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. arousal pools in your panties, and you fidget in your spot between them, hoping that you’ll finally get the attention you’ve been craving sooner rather than later. suguru’s tongue drags against your neck while he takes in the scent of your body wash from earlier’s shower. there’s a cool sensation coming from the center of his tongue—you can feel a firm ball of some kind.

it’s a little shameful, getting this hot and heavy from a simple kiss. only, his tongue rolls against yours, and any semblance of embarrassment melts away. suguru’s fingers pinch both of your nipples at the same time, sending shockwaves right to your pussy.

“fuck,” you sob into satoru’s mouth, practically lightheaded from how overwhelming it already is, as well as the lack of air. “i-i need more.”

suguru hums, continuing to toy with your hardened nipples. “already slutting yourself out for us, sweetheart? that was fast, wasn’t it?”

satoru finally draws back, a glossy string of spit connecting your lips to his. he doesn’t move just yet, savoring the moment like a piece of special candy—you’ve practically got hearts in your eyes, all hot and bothered because of him. well, suguru is a factor, but he didn’t put in nearly as much work as satoru.

“lie back for us, babe.” this time you don’t fight them on it, scooting off suguru so you can comfortably prop yourself up on the mountain of pillows.

“tsk. this dress ought to go.” suguru brandishes his knife, and cuts through the satin material of the slip as easily as a stick of butter.

“hey!” you snap, the remains of your dress sliding off to the sides of the bed like rags. “what about you two!? you can’t just cut up my clothes like that when neither of you are naked!”

satoru rolls his eyes, tossing your legs apart. meanwhile, suguru clearly isn’t done with that knife; he trails it along the slopes of your naked body, the edge of the blade sharpened in a way that has you gasping. he applies a little bit of pressure, and your skin splits like it would after a paper cut.

“a-are you cutting my skin open?” you ask incredulously. you know the answer, but for whatever reason, you don’t pull away from him.

“maybe,” he replies breezily. “‘s nothing deep. you can handle it, can’t you, honey?”

“would you look at that?” satoru wolf whistles, and heat rises to your cheeks as he gathers your legs together, tugging them up. the knife pauses at your collarbone as suguru leans backwards to take a look, and his eyebrows raise immediately.

“she’s fucking soaked.”

“put the knife down ‘n come give it a taste.”

satoru’s request is breathless, but effective. the knife falls onto the blankets, and for a moment you use your head to consider what might happen in the future—someone could sit on that thing, lie down on it. satoru’s tongue rips the thought out of your head and replaces the words that were on the tip of your tongue with a sweet moan of bliss. your clit throbs at the prospect of more, and their balmy puffs of breath fanning over you only arouse you further.

their faces press together, side by side as they start to eat your pussy in a way that immediately has your back arching and hips bucking. satoru focuses all his attention on your clit, flicking the tip of his tongue over it while suguru slurps up all of your slick. there it is again, that cool sensation—he’s got a tongue piercing. the moonlight shines through the flowy curtains, illuminating the killers in an almost angelic glow . . maybe they’re actually pussy killers.

“‘s like fucking candy,” satoru moans, tongue dipping down to gather up your slick. it bumps into suguru’s, and he only lets out a laugh that sends vibrations through your entire core. “sweetest pussy i’ve ever tasted, shit.”

the room fills with the lewd, nasty sounds of their slurping and licking as they devour your pussy together. you slip a finger between your teeth and bite down once one too many noises threaten to escape you, and suguru pulls back to land a smarting slap on your pussy.

“ah ah. do not try to go quiet on us.”

“sorry, ‘m sorry,” you stutter dumbly, mind and body reeling from the delicious sting of the slap.

“we want you screaming,” he emphasizes, spitting onto your cunt and watching as it flutters, the glob slipping down more rapidly due to the movement. “and you will be, by the end of all this. understand, doll?”

you nod hastily, and his eyes flick upwards to your face, the hardness in them a simple warning. “yeah, i understand.”

satoru’s drawing hearts and letters on your clit, each one making you shudder more than the last. each drag of his tongue makes him moan as he takes in more of your taste. beside him, suguru’s dips his tongue between your folds, the sensation nothing more than a tease. they plan to split you open on their cocks, and getting you desperate for it is only the first step of their plan.

“ngh, t-that’s so fucking good,” you cry, thighs quaking on either side of their heads. “please, i’m gonna cum.”

“give it to us,” satoru is the first to speak, his voice clear as it cuts through the lewd sounds in the air. he’s got one hand on the side of your thigh, holding you open just for them. “on our tongues, like a good girl.”

satoru’s ministrations on your clit grow more insistent; he’s working to pull your orgasm from you, while suguru continues to slurp at your messy pussy, his eyes falling shut. a familiar and overwhelming sensation coils in your tummy; it’s one that has your hands flying to both suguru and satoru’s heads, fingers finding purchase in their hair.

“i—i think ‘m gonna cum,” you cry, back arching off the bed while your hips jolt forward into their faces. after hearing the first word of your delirious warning, satoru replaced his tongue with his finger and moved beside suguru, the two of them slurping all your cunt has to offer. to them, it’s like drinking ambrosia.

you’re pulling hard at their hair, only encouraging them to groan against you. suguru speaks, eyes rolling back from just a little hair pulling. but it makes sense, with hair like that. of course his scalp is very sensitive.

“cover us in your cum, baby.”

obedient and right on time, your pussy gushes, hole fluttering around nothing while your clit throbs beneath satoru’s finger. the intense orgasm has left you twitching from the aftershocks, gasping for breath, and overly sensitive. of course, satoru and suguru take advantage of the aforementioned sensitivity with smirks on their faces.

“no, wait, i-i just came,” is all you can sob, your hands smacked away once you try to tug them off your aching cunt. “satoruuu, suguruuu.”

suguru only laughs, mimicking your tone with a roll of his eyes. “aw, babyyy. that’s too bad, isn’t it?”

with how sensitive you are, it’s not hard for them to drag a second orgasm out of you. this time, a few tears cascade down your cheeks as you fall over the edge with a pitched cry. satoru spanks your still twitching cunt and laughs at the way you gasp and recoil, legs still trembling.

“suguru, whatcha think? you wanna take her mouth ‘n i’ll fuck her pussy?”

“that’s far too considerate, satoru.” he shakes his head, talking about you as if you’re not in front of them. “c’mon,” suguru purrs, gesturing for you to get up as he slips off his robe and boxers. “lie on top of me.”

you can’t help but ogle, a little starstruck by his body and the thrill of everything. he sticks out his tongue playfully when he notices you staring, the metal ball in his tongue gleaming. his abs flex and his cock bobs as he lays down on your bed, beckoning you over with a gloved finger. satoru gulps, panting softly at the sight. following his best friend’s lead, he slips off his matching clothing and mounts the bed, which sinks under his weight with a creak. part of you wonders if the bed frame will give out by the end of this.

“hand me the lube,” suguru grunts, catching the small bottle in his larger hand. the liquid is cool, even through the leather of his gloves. he rubs his fingers together to warm it up a little for you. his fingertips prod at the tight ring of your asshole, and you let out a squeak of surprise.

“c’mon. relax for me, doll.”

you take a breath, body sweltering with arousal. this is certainly new for you, but you don’t complain—and anyway, the slight coolness of the lube feels good against your hot skin. satoru bites down on his lower lip as he watches his best friend prep you to take both of their cocks at the same time. something wicked has the corners of his lips curling up into a smile as he pictures you screaming for them.

likely picturing the same thing, suguru tongues at your jaw, kissing the tender skin wetly before nipping hard. you can only cry out, his lips serving as a simple distraction while his fingers push inside and stretch you out.

you gasp, and he feels you squeeze down hard on his fingers, hips jerking away. “come now, don’t run from it,” suguru coos, twisting his body beneath you to angle you the right way again. he ignores your whining, and satoru silently strokes his cock to the sight. “i know, i know. just breathe for me, ‘kay?”

slowly, your body accommodates the new stretch without any more sting or discomfort. in fact, your hips begin to rock into his fingers, chasing them when he starts to pull out.

“i-i think she’s ready, suguru,” satoru finally speaks up, clearing his throat. his voice is a little choked, and you can clearly see the flush on his cheeks even in the dark. “for both of us.”

“you hear that, honey?” his warm breath fans over the shell of your ear, making you shudder against him. “let’s see who can make you scream the loudest—me or satoru.”

“as if,” the man in question huffs, pushing your thigh to the side and looking over your dripping pussy with an obvious hunger. “fuck, baby. i’m gonna ruin you.”

with that, satoru grasps his cock and guides it inside your needy cunt. suguru does the same, pushing his length into your ass. the three of you moan collectively, a harmony if ever there was one. you sob, tears burning at the corners of your eyes from the intensity of the stretch.

satoru grits his teeth and grips your hips for support, then pushes all the way inside you. he bottoms out easily, his cock sliding against suguru’s, separated only by a thin layer of tissue. so thin that they can feel the shape of one another’s cocks through you.

“fuckin’—shittt, oh my god,” satoru’s easily overwhelmed, heart pounding in his ears while sweat covers his entire body in a sticky sheen.

suguru bites your neck hard, but the pain registers as pleasure despite the fact that he tastes a few irony drops of blood on his tongue.

“do either of you plan to move?” you complain, lips parting in an ‘o’ shape around a whiny moan. “or are we just gonna sit here—”

“shut the fuck up,” suguru groans, clapping a dry and gloved hand over your tits before squeezing them. “we’ll move when we fucking feel like it.”

waves of almost euphoria wash over your entire body, leaving you breathless and panting. when you’d first met these two, you’d been sharp and aware of your surroundings, but now everything is hazy and your body burns as though you have a fever.

the bed creaks dangerously as satoru jumps into action, slowly rocking his hips into yours with a few choked, wanton moans. before long, he’s more confident, fucking into you with a tight grip on your skin and at an invigorated pace. you’re so hot and oh so tight—satoru fucking loves it—you feel perfect. he loves the way you squirm on top of his best friend, hips canting forward eagerly to meet his. the evidence of how good he’s making you feel is painted all over your face, apparent in the wobble of your lower lip and the tears in your eyes.

you hear a sigh from behind you. “can’t lose the bet,” suguru’s voice is laced with faux sympathy. it takes him a few seconds, but he finally starts moving, groaning in approval at the shake of your body and gasping, ragged breaths.

above you, sweat rolls down satoru’s face, the snowy tips of his hair sticking to his forehead while others fall in front of his eyes. “y-you like it like this, baby?” the question is rhetorical, but your whimpering tells him everything he needs to know. the corners of his lips curl into a smile that’s soon wiped away by overwhelming pleasure. “you’re taking us so fuckin’ well, sweetheart . . driving me insane, goddamn.”

“i second that,” the metal ball of suguru’s piercing clicks as he sweeps his tongue over his teeth, panting hard into your ear. “really, baby . . feel like the luckiest fuckin’ guy in the world right now, heh.”

as if you’re not the luckiest girl—being sandwiched between these two is a dream you didn’t even know you had. inside you, their cocks throb against one another, dragging in and out of your holes ruthlessly. the tempo only speeds up, becoming too much too quickly.

you nudge a weak, clammy hand against satoru’s waist, arching your back on top of suguru and nearly nailing him in the face with a reverse headbutt. before the latter can say anything, satoru snatches your hand and intertwines your fingers with his, then pins it down to the bed. he advances forward, his chest now against yours to keep you still.

“ah ah,” he tuts, his nipples hard as they press against yours, “move your damn hand, baby. this is what you wanted, remember?”

“i certainly do,” suguru titters, nipping at your earlobe. “don’t be like that. you can take it, can’t you?”

his words are convincing; he’s got you nodding in acceptance. he’s right, of course. this is what you wanted earlier—you’ve been taking both of their cocks so fucking well. just as you tell yourself you’ll make it through this, satoru’s fingers ghost along the soft skin of your stomach. despite the exhaustion that’s setting into his body, his hips don’t even stutter as he focuses on your swollen clit.

“oh . . oh my god,” the words are torn from your throat, which only grows more sore with all the noise you can’t seem to stop making. a familiar shakiness settles in your voice, and you’re fighting to keep the breath in your lungs, but it escapes you far too easily. “i’m-‘m gonna cum for you, ‘m—”

as you hurtle closer to all encompassing euphoria, the sounds of skin slapping against skin fade out and grow foggy. yet, you manage to hear their voices eagerly spurring you on, the two of them in the same boat as you.

“yeah, ‘s right. fuckin’ cum for us, baby.” satoru’s own orgasm creeps up on him, his head tipping back as your pussy starts to flutter around his cock. of course, suguru can feel the throbbing of his best friend’s cock and the quavering of your needy pussy. he releases your tits, seeing the bruising he’s left before squeezing his eyes shut in concentration.

“ya heard him, honey,” he utters after a long groan, his voice low and husky. “take all of our fucking cum.” you gasp out, nodding your head frantically as you teeter over the edge.

everything happens fast, and all at the same time. satoru cums inside you, his broad shoulders shaking as he rides it out while your pussy practically milks him for more. your cunt spasms, hips jerking upwards from the intensity of it. the movement pushes out suguru, his cum leaking out of your bruised ass and spilling in white puddles on his pelvis.

satoru looks down, biting down on his lower lip as he pulls his cock from you. this is quite the reward, seeing cum pour from both of your spent and twitching holes. your shuddering, sweltering body finally begins to cool after what feels like hours. suguru’s exhausted, but he kindly lifts you and lays you down on the bed beside him. satoru flops down beside you with a heaving sigh, only to lay on the knife from earlier.

“ow, fuck!” he jolts, sitting up and tugging the sharp blade from where it’s tangled in the sheets. he unceremoniously hurls it to the floor, laying back down with a vengeful huff.

you’re too tired to laugh, but a small smile plays on your lips. “do you still wanna kill me?”

“not right now,” suguru throws an arm over his face, gesturing in the direction of the floor. “the knife’s down there, anyway.”

you sit up, craning your neck to take a look. from what you can see, the floor is littered with their dark costumes and two masks, the knife completely out of sight. “i don’t see it.”

“hm, remember we talked about making you scream for us?” satoru speaks up, and in your dizzy haze, you don’t notice that glint in his eyes.

“uh, yeah, i think so? i thought you already did.”

“don’t you watch scary movies?” suguru scoffs, looking at you from beneath his forearm. “you should know what happens next.”

you laugh, rolling your eyes. “yeah, whatever. what happens next, you kill me? very funny. let me convince you again,” and you clear your throat. “no, please don’t kill me, mr. ghostface! i wanna be in the sequel!”

satoru simply shakes his head, and the knife plunges into your back. with a gasp, you sputter out a few garbled words, blood pouring down your bare back as you fall backwards onto the bed. you writhe on the mussed sheets, blood spilling from your lips and trickling down your chin in vermillion rivulets. beside you, the blood covered suguru and satoru let you struggle aimlessly until your body stills; then they slip their masks on again . .

“andddd cut!” the director jumps from his seat with proud claps, and the production assistants rush in from every direction to help clean up the mess.

“satoru, fuck! that knife was so sharp,” you sit up, sending a glare his way as you wipe the fake blood off your skin. despite being a fake knife, the shiny plastic point was rather jagged.

“excellent performances, the three of you! our halloween special is sure to be a hit!” the director is gushing as he praises the three of you.

“yeah, yeah,” suguru says, his cheeks flushed a rosy pink. “i’ve gotta take a shower. seriously, the corn syrup is so fucking sticky.”

[jungwnies]

F1 GRID | taking away their food - tiktok trend

୨ৎ : featuring : max verstappen, lewis hamilton, george russell, carlos sainz, charles leclerc, lando norris, oscar piastri (comment if you'd like to see other drivers or feel free to drop into my inbox!) ୨ৎ : synopsis (requested) : taking away their meal while they are still eating to see their reaction...

୨ৎ : genre : comedy ୨ৎ : word count : 3490

୨ৎ masterlist ୨ৎ

ᡣ𐭩 a/n : when i tell you i love these tiktok trend requests, i love them...! <3

ʚ・max verstappen

you and max were on vacation at a beautiful beachside resort. unlike max, who preferred to stay offline, you were chronically online and had seen the recent trend of taking away people’s food while they were eating. what better way to have some fun than to try it on your husband?

max had a relatively short temper, but he was always patient with you. that’s why you couldn’t wait to see his reaction when his food was suddenly taken away…especially in an expensive restaurant.

after placing your orders, you excuse yourself. “i’ll be right back, babe, just have to use the restroom.”

instead, you hurry over to your waiter, who isn’t too busy at the moment. slipping her a generous tip, you ask, “while he’s eating, can you take away his food?”

she laughs, immediately catching on. “i’ve seen the trend! i’d love to do it—especially to max.”

trying to contain your excitement, you make your way back to the table, casually setting up your phone to record. the food arrives, and you both dig in.

as you eat, you casually chat about the upcoming f1 season. “are you excited?” you ask between bites.

“yeah, but testing is gonna be interesting. new regulations could change a lot,” max replies, focused on his food.

then, right in the middle of a bite, the waiter swoops in and takes his plate away.

max freezes. you bite your lip to keep from laughing.

“what the hell?” you say, feigning confusion.

max blinks before his expression shifts. “yeah, what the hell? i want to speak to their manager. what are they, fucking idiots?” his voice rises, his irritation clear.

that’s it—you can’t hold it in anymore. not wanting the staff to get in trouble, you call the waiter back, who quickly returns with his dish. “my apologies,” she says, trying to keep a straight face.

before max can get another word out, you burst into laughter. “it was just a prank, my love. an extremely funny one at that.”

max sighs, shaking his head. “you know i was hungry…”

you roll your eyes. “we had a snack before coming here. don’t lie.”

he huffs, but you can see the corner of his mouth twitching. “you’re lucky you’re my wife and not another driver.”

you grin. totally worth it.

ʚ・lewis hamilton

“are you excited to see the family again?” you ask lewis as you adjust your dress, glancing at him through the mirror.

lewis nods, holding out his tie. “always excited,” he says, smiling as you step closer to help him fix it.

you both make your way to the family dinner, where you're greeted warmly. everyone loves lewis so much that they always prepare a vegan-friendly meal just for him—without making a fuss about it.

at the gathering, you and lewis naturally drift apart. he’s with your father and uncles, deep in a discussion about sports, while you join the women in the kitchen, chatting and catching up.

your cousin pulls you aside, giggling. “have you seen that tiktok trend where you take their food mid-meal just to see their reaction?”

you smirk, already plotting. “oh, i have an idea.”

once everyone is seated and eating, conversation flows easily. then, mid-meal, you casually get up, walk over to lewis—who’s completely engrossed in a conversation with your uncle—and, without a word, take his plate away.

you turn on your heel and walk straight to the kitchen, leaving him staring after you, utterly speechless. the entire table falls silent. the women bite their lips, trying not to laugh, while the men exchange confused glances.

lewis clears his throat, placing his napkin down. “if you all will pardon me for just a second.”

he follows you into the kitchen, where he finds you at the sink, rinsing a plate. his brows furrow, but there’s amusement in his voice. “love… what are you doing?”

you don’t turn around just yet, keeping up the act. “what do you mean? i thought you were done.”

lewis tilts his head, his expression both concerned and affectionate. “darling, i’d barely even touched my food.”

you finally turn to face him, biting your lip to keep from laughing. “i know,” you admit, pulling his plate out of the microwave with a grin. “i just wanted to see your reaction.”

lewis exhales a deep sigh, crossing his arms. “and what exactly did you think was going to happen? that i’d sit there, starving, while you pranced around with my dinner?”

you shrug innocently. “honestly, i thought you’d be more dramatic. maybe throw a little fit, demand justice, give a speech about how a man’s meal should never be taken from him.”

lewis raises a brow, lips twitching with amusement. “oh, so you expected a whole performance?”

you nod. “at the very least, i thought you’d stand up on your chair and make a passionate plea for your food’s return.”

lewis chuckles, shaking his head as he steps closer. “you’re trouble, you know that?”

you hand him back his plate with a cheeky smile. “and yet, you married me.”

he takes it, setting it down on the counter before pulling you into his arms. “mm, don’t remind me. i think i should’ve put ‘no pranks’ in the vows.”

you gasp in mock offense. “excuse me? that would’ve been a dealbreaker.”

lewis laughs, resting his forehead against yours. “then i guess i really am stuck with you.”

you grin. “lucky you.”

he shakes his head, pressing a soft kiss to your lips before picking up his plate. “lucky me, indeed. now, if you’ll excuse me, i’d like to actually eat my food before you come up with another ridiculous idea.”

you smirk, watching as he walks back to the table. “no promises.”

ʚ・george russell

george loves your home-cooked meals. after a long day of racing and testing, he always comes home with an empty stomach, ready to devour whatever you’ve made.

and lucky for him, despite spending most of your day rotting in bed on tiktok, you still managed to cook one of his favorite meals. so, when he walks through the door, you greet him with a warm smile, already setting the table.

“smells amazing,” he sighs, dropping a kiss to your forehead before heading off to freshen up.

once he’s cleaned up and comfortable, you both sit down and start eating. conversation flows easily as he tells you about his day—mostly car talk that you only half understand but love listening to anyway.

then, mid-meal, right when george is in the middle of a big bite, you casually grab his plate and stand up.

“i’ll just be right back,” you say nonchalantly, walking toward the kitchen.

george freezes, fork in midair, watching you disappear with his food. at first, he just blinks, processing what just happened. then, he calls after you.

“love?”

you stay silent, waiting.

another second passes.

“babe?” his voice is a little more confused this time.

still nothing from you.

now you hear his chair scrape against the floor as he gets up, followed by hurried footsteps coming toward the kitchen. you grab a spoon and take a big, dramatic bite of his food just as he walks in.

he stops in the doorway, hands on his hips, staring at you like you’ve just committed the ultimate betrayal.

“love,” he says, slow and measured, “what are you doing?”

you make a big show of chewing, eyes closing as you hum in satisfaction. “mm. wow. this is really good.”

george blinks, looking between you and his stolen plate. “yeah, i know. that’s why i was eating it.”

you sigh, shaking your head. “honestly, i don’t think you appreciated it enough. i just had to double-check how good it was.”

he folds his arms. “by eating my dinner?”

you nod, taking another bite just to test his patience.

george lets out a long, dramatic sigh, dragging a hand down his face. “after everything i’ve done today—hours of training, media, testing—this is how you treat me?”

you smirk. “think of it as a lesson in patience.”

“oh, i’m very patient,” he argues, stepping closer, eyes narrowing. “but i will be getting my food back.”

before you can react, he lunges for the plate. you try to dodge, but george is quicker. he snatches it back, holding it above his head like a trophy.

“ha!” he exclaims victoriously.

you pout. “that was rude.”

george smirks, taking an exaggerated bite right in front of you. “oh wow. this is really good.”

you gasp. “now you’re just mocking me.”

he winks. “just had to double-check how good it was.”

you groan, swatting at him as he laughs and walks triumphantly back to the table, plate in hand.

“love you,” he calls over his shoulder.

you huff, crossing your arms. “yeah, yeah. enjoy your stolen dinner.”

ʚ・carlos sainz

carlos thought of you as a saint—you could do no wrong in his eyes. and honestly, you could probably count on one hand the number of times he’s gotten mad at you… actually, scratch that. it’s zero.

this man loved, and he loved hard.

one of your favorite things to do together was cooking, but nothing beat grilling outside when the weather was hot. it became a little tradition—firing up the grill, making burgers, and just talking about the most random things.

today’s topic? trying to convince carlos to leave formula one so he could stay home with you every day.

“mi amor, that sounds like a great idea, but…” he gestures dramatically toward your beautiful backyard, “we would not have a home if i did that.”

you sigh dramatically. “we could live a simple life. maybe raise some chickens, grow our own vegetables…”

carlos gives you an amused look as he flips a burger. “you scream when a bug lands on you. you think you’re ready for farm life?”

“fair point.” you nod solemnly, making him laugh.

once the burgers are ready, you both sit outside on the deck, enjoying your food and the warm evening air. conversation flows as usual—lighthearted, full of teasing and laughter.

then, mid-bite, right when carlos is at peak burger enjoyment, you casually reach over and take the burger straight from his hands. not the plate. just the burger.

you don’t even wait for his reaction before standing up and walking into the house, taking a big bite as you go.

carlos blinks, completely caught off guard.

“amor?” his voice is laced with confusion and betrayal.

you don’t answer. you just keep walking.

then he snaps out of it.

“amor!” he calls louder, pushing his chair back as he stands. “come back here!”

you hear his footsteps on the deck as you disappear into the house, stuffing another bite into your mouth just as he reaches the doorway.

“oh, you’re in trouble now.”

you sprint toward the kitchen, but carlos is faster. within seconds, he wraps his arms around you from behind, tackling you onto the couch as you let out a squeal.

“no! carlos! it’s mine now!” you laugh, trying to take another bite, but he pins your arms, shaking his head.

“i trusted you,” he says dramatically, his face hovering inches from yours.

“and you love me,” you counter, mouth half full.

he sighs, looking at the last pathetic remains of his burger in your hand. “that was my best one yet…”

you pat his cheek, swallowing. “it was amazing, really.”

carlos groans before flopping off of you, lying on his back on the couch with a pout. “now what am i supposed to eat?”

you sit up, stretching. “i guess i could make you another one.”

he side-eyes you. “you guess?”

you grin. “fine, fine. i will make you another one.”

carlos huffs but follows you back to the kitchen, watching as you start grilling again. after a moment, he walks up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his chin on your shoulder.

“you’re lucky you’re cute,” he mumbles.

you smirk. “i know.”

carlos laughs, kissing your cheek before finally getting his fresh, non-stolen burger.

ʚ・charles leclerc

charles leclerc is the definition of polite. he treats everyone with kindness, never raises his voice unnecessarily, and avoids causing a scene at all costs.

so he definitely wasn’t prepared for what was about to happen to his dinner—at his favorite restaurant, no less.

before walking to your table, you quietly slipped the waiter a generous tip and explained your plan. the waiter grinned, fully on board, and assured you they’d pull it off perfectly.

by the time you sat down across from charles, you had to bite back a smile.

as you waited for the food to arrive, conversation flowed easily. you leaned in slightly. “do you think i should start traveling with you during the season?”

charles’ eyes lit up. “of course,” he said immediately. “i would love that. and we could bring leo too—he’d love it.”

you laughed. “leo on a private jet, living the life.”

charles nodded. “exactly. he’s already spoiled, but this would make him impossible to deal with.”

the food finally arrived, and as always, charles looked delighted as he took his first bite. you chatted here and there, but you were mostly just waiting for the moment.

then, just as charles lifted another forkful of food and put it into his mouth, the waiter swooped in and—without hesitation—took his plate away.

charles froze mid-chew, blinking in confusion.

you clenched your jaw to keep from laughing as his brows furrowed, his eyes following his plate as it disappeared.

“amore,” he exhaled, swallowing his bite as he turned to you. “what the hell just happened?”

you shrugged, pretending to be just as confused. “i have no idea.”

charles sighed, rubbing his forehead before muttering something in french. you caught bits of it—something about karma for not finishing his meal last time.

still holding back your laughter, you watched as he looked toward the waiter, debating whether or not to say something. charles wasn’t one to cause a scene, but this? this was testing his patience.

“excuse me?” he finally called out, voice still polite but definitely stressed.

you couldn’t hold it in any longer. letting out a laugh, you waved the waiter back over, who immediately returned with his plate.

charles looked between you and the waiter, realization dawning. “no…”

you grinned. “oui.”

the waiter set his plate down. “désolé, monsieur leclerc, but it was a request.”

charles turned to you, eyes narrowing. “baby…”

you beamed. “it’s just a prank!”

he stared at you for a moment before shaking his head, exhaling through his nose. “you…” he pointed his fork at you, squinting. “you’re lucky i love you.”

you leaned forward on your elbows. “i know.”

still mumbling in french about betrayal, charles picked up his fork again and resumed eating while you giggled, already thinking about what prank to pull next.

ʚ・lando norris

lando loves eating out with you—especially at small, lowkey urban spots where no one bothers him and the food is always good.

tonight was no different. after placing your order, you both slid into a booth, and lando immediately started rambling about something completely random.

“so i was thinking,” he said, gesturing animatedly, “if we ever get, like, really lost somewhere—like, no signal, no gps—do you think i’d be able to navigate us out just by looking at the stars?”

you snorted. “lando, you can’t even navigate a grocery store.”

“that’s different,” he argued. “they put all the good stuff at the back on purpose. it’s a scam.”

before you could argue further, your food arrived—a fresh, steaming-hot pizza.

“finally,” lando sighed happily, grabbing a slice immediately.

you both started eating, chatting between bites, until suddenly, just as lando reached for another slice, the cashier you tipped earlier casually walked over, picked up the entire pizza, and walked away.

lando froze, mouth slightly open, staring at the now-empty table.

“hey, i was eat—” he started, but before he could finish, the guy was already gone, disappearing into the back.

his head turned slowly toward you, utterly confused. “what… just happened?”

you glanced down at your own half-eaten slice, pretending to inspect it. “do you think they took it away because the pizza was bad?” you asked, struggling to hold in your laughter.

lando frowned, tilting his head. “i mean… maybe? but we already ate some. wouldn’t they have warned us first?”

you shrugged. “maybe they realized it too late—maybe it’s, like, radioactive or something.”

lando blinked, deep in thought. “well… i feel fine. for now.”

then, shaking his head, he pushed his chair back. “i’ll just go talk to them—”

before he could stand, the cashier reappeared, grinning as he placed the pizza right back on the table. “enjoy your food.”

lando just stared at the guy, then at the pizza, then at you.

“were we not already…?” his brows furrowed.

that was it. you couldn’t hold it in anymore. you burst into laughter, clutching your stomach as lando continued to sit there, completely lost.

“what?” he asked, blinking. “what’s so funny?”

still laughing, you managed to get out, “i—i told them to do it. it was a prank! for tiktok!”

lando’s jaw dropped. “you set me up?”

you nodded, still giggling.

he exhaled dramatically, shaking his head. “wow. betrayal. right in front of my pizza.”

“i had to,” you grinned. “your face was priceless.”

lando grabbed his slice, taking a big bite while still glaring at you playfully. “i hope tiktok enjoys this, because i’m not sharing my pizza with you anymore.”

you gasped. “lando—”

“nope.” he turned away, holding his slice protectively. “find another victim.”

you just kept laughing as he ate, shaking his head at you—but deep down, you knew he’d totally get you back for this.

ʚ・oscar piastri

there’s nothing better than a good pasta, so while you and oscar were in italy, you decided to have some fun. recently, you’d been seeing the tiktok trend where waiters take food away mid-meal, and what better place to pull it off than in the land of pasta itself?

tipping isn’t really the norm in italy, but you still managed to sneak the waiter a little cash. using your very broken high school italian, you did your best to explain the prank. it wasn’t easy—your italian was atrocious—but thankfully, after showing him the tiktok, he got the idea. with a knowing grin, he agreed.

when you and oscar sat down, you could barely contain your excitement. the pasta finally arrived, steaming hot, and you both eagerly dug in.

as always, conversation flowed easily between the two of you. oscar was rambling about something—probably a weird f1 fact or a debate about whether pineapple belonged on pizza—when you glanced at the waiter and gave him a small, knowing smile.

that was his cue.

without hesitation, the waiter swooped in, grabbed oscar’s plate, and walked away.

oscar froze, fork still mid-air, a single strand of pasta dangling from it. his eyes followed his plate as it disappeared into the kitchen.

“did… did my food just get stolen?” he asked slowly, turning to you with the most genuinely confused expression you had ever seen.

you pressed your lips together to keep from laughing. “maybe… do you think something was wrong with it?”

oscar frowned, looking down at the pasta still on your plate. “but we’re eating the same thing…” he blinked. “was mine poisoned or something?”

you shrugged. “maybe they realized too late and saved your life.”

oscar squinted at you. “so they just left yours?”

you bit the inside of your cheek to stop from laughing. “maybe they don’t care if i get poisoned.”

his jaw dropped. “that’s messed up.” he started shifting in his seat, glancing toward the kitchen. “i should probably go—”

just as he was about to stand up, the waiter returned, placing his plate back down in front of him with a grin. “buon appetito.”

oscar looked at the waiter, then at you, then back at his pasta. his face was priceless.

“wait, what?” he looked genuinely lost. “was i… not supposed to have it? were we not already eating?”

that was it—you burst out laughing, unable to hold it in any longer.

“oscar,” you wheezed between laughs, “it was just a prank! for tiktok!”

he blinked. once. twice. then, realization hit.

“oh, my god.” he groaned, rubbing his face. “you set me up? in italy?”

you wiped a tear from your eye. “yes, and it was so worth it.”

oscar shook his head, sighing dramatically before twirling some pasta onto his fork. “unbelievable. i thought i was actually banned from eating for a second.”

“you should’ve seen your face,” you giggled.

he rolled his eyes, taking a bite. “you’re lucky i love you.”

you smirked. “i know.”

oscar chuckled, pointing his fork at you. “but just so you know, you will pay for this.”

you shrugged, twirling your own pasta. “looking forward to it.”

2021-2025 © jungwnies | All rights reserved. Do not repost, plagiarize, or translate

[solxamber]

Platonic heartslabyul with fem!Yuu who managed to memorize ALL the rules because she hyperfixated on it. It's a new universe so why not study their customs?

it ended up gender neutral, hope that's okay!

Memorizing the Queen's Rules with Heartslabyul

Ace Trappola

At first, Ace thought your ability to quote the rules on demand was a joke. Then, it became the bane of his existence.

"Hey, it’s not a big deal if I sneak just one tart out of here!" he’d say, already halfway to the door.

"Rule #142: No pastries shall leave the premises of the tea party unless explicitly authorized," you’d insist, crossing your arms and blocking his path like an unyielding wall of justice.

Ace groaned dramatically, throwing his head back. "Why do you even know that? Who memorizes all the rules?!"

"Someone who doesn’t want to end up collared for your nonsense."

He tried to get clever, testing your limits by bending obscure rules. Once, he brought a banana to a tea party.

"You realize Rule #53 bans bananas at tea parties, right?"

Ace stared, mouth agape. "That’s not real. You’re making that up."

"It’s real. Page 47 of the rulebook," you replied with a satisfied grin.

At that moment, Ace realized he could never outsmart you. Begrudgingly, he admitted, "You’re terrifying. I’m never crossing you."

Of course, that didn’t stop him from trying to prank you. But the look on his face every time you countered him with the correct rule was priceless.

Deuce Spade

Deuce was equal parts impressed and intimidated by your encyclopedic knowledge of Heartslabyul law.

"Wait, so… Rule #317 says I can’t use my left hand to pour tea unless it’s Tuesday?" he asked, staring at the teapot like it had betrayed him.

"Correct. It’s Wednesday, so put it down," you replied, barely glancing up from your notes.

Deuce’s determination to follow the rules skyrocketed thanks to you. He started coming to you for advice on everything.

"Is it okay if I use a spoon to eat this tart instead of a fork? I don’t want to mess up!"

You paused. "Technically, Rule #223 says forks are preferred, but spoons are acceptable if no forks are available."

Deuce sighed in relief. "Thanks, prefect. You’re like my personal tutor for dorm survival."

He became your staunchest supporter, often citing your knowledge to back up his own actions. When Ace tried to sneak an extra tart, Deuce would immediately shout, "Rule #142! You can’t do that!"

"Juice, no one likes a snitch," Ace grumbled.

"I like them," you said, giving Deuce a thumbs-up.

Deuce beamed.

Trey Clover

Trey found your obsession with the rules both amusing and endearing.

"You’re the first person I’ve met who rivals Riddle’s knowledge of the rulebook," he said one day as you adjusted the spacing between roses in the garden.

"Someone has to uphold the standards," you replied, squinting at a rosebush. "This one’s two centimeters too close to the other."

Trey chuckled, leaning against his spade. "You know, not even Riddle notices stuff like that."

"Then it’s a good thing I’m here," you said matter-of-factly, pulling out your measuring tape.

Trey quickly realized you were also a fantastic mediator. Whenever Riddle’s temper flared, you calmly cited rules to de-escalate the situation.

"Rule #405: forgiveness is encouraged for first offenses," you’d say, placing a hand on Riddle’s shoulder.

"Fine," Riddle would huff, storming off.

Trey gave you a knowing smile. "You’re a lifesaver."

Cater Diamond

Cater thought you were hilarious. Your ability to recite rules on command made you a walking meme in his eyes.

"So, you’re like, a human rulebook?" he asked one day, phone in hand.

"Pretty much."

"Say something rule-y for my Magicam!" he said, already recording.

You rolled your eyes but played along. "Rule #98: no singing at tea parties unless the Queen of Hearts requests it."

Cater doubled over laughing.

He constantly teased you about your rule knowledge but secretly found it impressive. Anytime he needed an excuse to get out of trouble, he’d turn to you.

"Uh, is there a rule that says I can skip cleaning duty if my phone dies?"

"No, but nice try," you replied.

Still, he loved having you around, especially when you used your rule expertise to put Ace in his place.

Riddle Rosehearts

Riddle was in awe of you.

"You’ve memorized all 810 rules?" he asked, eyes wide.

"Of course," you said, shrugging. "Why wouldn’t I?"

Riddle’s respect for you skyrocketed. You became his unofficial right-hand person, often helping him enforce the rules.

"Rule #327 clearly states that tea must be brewed at exactly 96 degrees Celsius," you said during one tea party.

"Exactly!" Riddle exclaimed. "Finally, someone understands!"

You were the only one who could occasionally talk him down when he went overboard.

"Rule #512 says punishments should fit the crime," you reminded him gently.

Riddle adjusted his gloves, looking sheepish. "You’re absolutely correct. As always."

He even started consulting you for rule interpretations, trusting your judgment implicitly.

"Do you think Rule #600 applies here?"

"Only if you interpret it broadly," you replied.

"Brilliant," Riddle said, nodding.

To him, you were a paragon of order and discipline—a perfect addition to Heartslabyul.

Masterlist

[monserelates]

I Only Threw This Party 4 U ; James Potter

⇨ james potter x f! reader

⇨ summary: When y/n sees James making out with another girl at a party, what could go wrong?

⇨ warnings: angst, use of y/n, angry love confession, happy ending, and I think that’s all.

⇨ a/n: this is my first angst one shot, let me know what I can improve please!

word count: 1.2k

I only threw this party for you, yeah..

The common room is glowing red and gold.

The music is loud, someone’s spiked the pumpkin juice, and Sirius is already half-dancing on a table with a tie around his forehead. It’s a Gryffindor celebration—another Quidditch win, another Potter-led triumph.

And you only came because James asked.

You weren’t going to. You’d had a headache all day. You didn’t feel like dancing, like smiling, like pretending that your chest didn’t get tight every time James touched you for just a little too long and still didn’t say anything.

But he looked at you with those eyes and said,

“Come on, love. Won’t be fun without you.”

So you did.

You got dressed, Lily curled your hair and Marlene helped you do your makeup.

You’re sitting on the couch, talking to Marlene and Lily, when you see it.

It’s just past midnight. The room is hazy with music and chatter and Butterbeer, and James is still flying high from the win. Everyone is chanting his name

And then—he kisses her.

She’s some Ravenclaw from a study group. She throws her arms around him. He doesn’t push her away.

In fact, he kisses her back.

You guys aren’t dating after all, so why should it matter?

You guys are just best friends. You tell yourself,

best friends. Nothing more.

You don’t care. In fact, it doesn’t bother you. He can shag her on this table for all you care. But your thoughts don’t reflect the stinging you feel on your eyes and the warm tears slide down your cheek.

“Are you okay?” Dorcas asks, putting a hand on your shoulder, “oh.”

“Uhm, I’ll catch you guys later, okay? I- I forgot I have an essay do transfiguration due tomorrow.”

“But isn’t that due next week?” Lily Asks.

You don’t say anything. Don’t cry. Don’t throw a scene

Your heart doesn’t break. It shatters. Quietly.

You just get up and leave. Out the portrait hole. Past Elizabeth, who watches you go with concern.

Behind you, the party roars on.

⸻

James doesn’t notice you’re gone until hours later.

By then, you’ve already locked your curtains shut and cried yourself to sleep.

⸻

The next morning, you don’t sit with him at breakfast.

Or in Transfiguration.

Or by the lake during your usual Thursday reading hour.

At first, he thinks it’s coincidence.

By the second day, it’s not.

⸻

In the staff room, McGonagall leans over her tea and says,

“They’re not speaking.”

Sprout looks devastated. “But they were so close.”

“I had them down for spring,” mutters Flitwick, scribbling sadly on a very worn-out betting chart.

Dumbledore just sighs, staring out the window. “The boy is a fool.”

⸻

James tries everything.

He brings you toast at breakfast. You pass i.

He waits for you outside the library. You walk right past him.

“Talk to me,” he finally begs, cornering you after Charms.

You blink up at him, eyes unreadable. “What is it? Or would you rather chat it up with Ellie Goldensmith?”

He flinches like you slapped him.

And then you walk away.

⸻

You can’t lie and say you haven’t cared, after all, your tear-soaked pillow and your eye bags speak for you. The days stretch. The silence aches.

Sirius stops joking. Remus starts watching you both with a quiet kind of worry. Peter tries to talk to you once—asks how you are. You smile too brightly and say, “Fine.”

You aren’t.

You miss him when you wake up. When you sit by the fire. When you forget some stupid inside joke and turn to whisper it to him—and remember.

You feel like a ghost in your own skin.

And James?

He’s actually going insane.

He’s distracted in practice. Short-tempered in class. He doesn’t even want to do pranks anymore.

And the worst part?

He doesn’t even like the girl he kissed. He never did.

He was just trying to feel… something. Anything.

And all he feels now is regret.

⸻

In the staff room, Professor Vector sighs. “This is tragic.”

Sprout nods. “He’s been quieter in class. It’s like a sad little puppy.”

They’re going to confess,” McGonagall says firmly. “It’s just a matter of time.”

“Or,” says Slughorn, sipping his wine, “they’ll be dramatic forever, and I’ll win the bet.”

———

the storm breaks. so does he.

The rain is coming down in sheets.

It wasn’t supposed to storm today, but of course it does. The sky breaks just as you’re leaving the castle, too angry to care. You storm past the oak doors, ignoring Lily’s voice behind you.

James is already chasing after you.

“Y/N—Y/N, wait!”

You don’t stop.

You can hear his footsteps splashing through the puddles, gaining on you as you make it halfway across the courtyard.

“What?” you snap, spinning around, hoping he didn’t notice your breath hitching after looking at him in the eyes and noticing his pale skin and messy hair. “What do you want, James?”

He’s soaked. Dripping. Breathless.

“I—Merlin—I need to talk to you.”

“About what?” You throw your arms out, water running down your face like tears. “About how you snogged some girl in front of me like it meant nothing? Or about how I stood next to you for years, years and never once got that look?”

His jaw tightens. “It didn’t mean anything—”

“Exactly!” you shout, voice cracking. “It meant nothing. So was I supposed to just laugh? Cheer you on? Watch you make out with someone else and pretend it didn’t feel like I got kicked in the chest?!”

He stares at you. You’re both shaking. Rainwater sticks your hair to your face and It’s impossible to tell what’s water and what’s tears.

“I only ever came to that stupid party for you, James.”

His mouth opens, then shuts. You turn to go.

“I didn’t know,” he says, quietly, broken. “I didn’t know you felt that way.”

You spin back. “Of course you didn’t James, just as oblivious as ever. Tell me, did you ever feel it? Did you ever feel me staring at you across the room? or how flustered I got every time you called me love? Or how about that time you got sick the flu and I-

And something inside him snaps.

“I FELT EVERYTHING!”

Your breath catches.

“I felt it every time you smiled at me. Every time you took my hand during a prank or patched me up after practice or looked at me like I was something more than a bloody joke!” he shouts, rain hitting harder than ever. “I was in love with you and I didn’t say anything because I thought I’d lose you—but I lost you anyway!”

Silence.

Just thunder.

Just your heaving breaths.

“Please, love, say something.” James pleaded.

“Then why?” your voice wobbles. “Why would you kiss her?”

He looks like he might cry.

“Because I saw the way you looked at me and thought there’s no way someone like her could love someone like me.”

He steps closer.

“I kissed her to prove to myself I didn’t care. And all it did was prove that I’d never stop caring about you.”

You stare.

He’s trembling. You are too.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I’m so sorry.”

And then, without meaning to—without thinking—you’re kissing him.

Not like a first kiss.

Like a fight. Like a scream. Like a war finally ending.

He grips your soaked robes like they’re the only thing keeping him standing and you run your hands through his messy curls as if he was the missing piece of your puzzle

And somewhere, high in the tower, the professors are watching from the window.

McGonagall hands Dumbledore a galleon without a word.

[guiltyandashamed]

headcannons: what flusters the brothers

No one can deny the effect you can have on the brothers. Yes, you've been with them for some time now, but that doesn't mean your charm still doesn't catch them off guard. Here are a few scenarios that guarantee red faces from all of them. (1.5k words)

Lucifer

~When you find him passed out at his desk.

You quietly open the study door and there he is, head cradled in one arm, papers scattered, pen still clutched in one hand. It's rare to see him so undone, without his disciplined composure. You nudge his shoulder gently, whispering his name “Lucifer…” and his eyes flutter open, blinking sluggishly as he sits up. You place a warm cup of tea by his hand. He doesn’t meet your eyes right away. “Thank you,” he murmurs, leaving back in his chair, brushing his hair back and straightening his clothes like a reflex, but the slight red in his cheeks betrays how caught off guard he is by your tenderness, and the fact that you saw him like this.

~When you one-up him in front of Diavolo.

Maybe you’ve made a clever remark, remembered a key piece of Devildom lore before he could, or offered Diavolo advice that the prince takes to heart. Lucifer’s expression doesn't change much, but there’s a twitch in his jaw and a slow blink that gives him away. “Impressive,” he says in a carefully controlled voice, but the subtle readjustment of his posture and the brief glance he gives you (when he thinks you won’t notice) says he’s flustered, more than he’ll ever admit. He’s proud, of course, but also deeply unused to being matched, let alone bested.

~When you finally lose your temper.

He’s used to being the one who keeps things together. But one evening, after a string of disasters—a broken door, a food fight, a Mammon prank gone wrong—you’ve reached your limit. He makes an offhand comment about staying calm, and it’s the last straw. You turn on all of them, including him, voice sharp and tone firm, scolding them all like a disappointed parent. The room goes quiet. Lucifer’s brows shoot up slightly as he stares at you, stunned. There’s a weird glint of admiration in his eyes too.

Mammon

~When you praise him without teasing.

He’s so used to backhanded compliments or sarcastic jabs that when you genuinely call him reliable or handsome, without a punchline. His brain short circuits. He’ll blink, look away, scratch at his neck like he’s itchy all of a sudden, and laugh too loudly. “Y-Yeah, well, ‘course I am!” he stammers, but his ears are pink and he won’t stop cheesing about it.

~When you catch him staring and don’t say anything, just smile.

Mammon stares a lot. You just usually don’t catch him. So when you look up from your book or drink and catch his gaze already fixed on you, he panics. But then you smile, sweet, knowing, and just a little smug, it knocks the wind out of him. “Wha—! I wasn’t lookin’! Mind yer business!” he yells, turning bright red. But his eyes keep flicking back to you like he can’t help it.

Leviathan

~When you walk in while he’s singing to himself.

He’s in the middle of some anime theme song, headphones on, and half-dancing around his room. He doesn’t hear the door open until it’s too late. You’re standing there, smiling. Levi yelps, drops the remote, and nearly trips over his tail. “W-W-WHY are you here?! You’re supposed to use the password!!” He’s bright red and curls into a ball like a flustered shrimp.

~When you cosplay as his favorite character.

You step into his room wearing a Ruri-chan costume, specially tailored to you. He gapes. His brain completely freezes. “Is this... is this real life?!” he whispers, tears threatening to gather in his eyes. “You... you really did this for me?”

~When you snuggle up to watch him game.

“W-Wait, you can’t just—!” He’s trapped, controller in hand, body stiff as a board while you rest comfortably against him. “I can’t focus like this! You’re too close!” But he doesn’t move away. He tries to obscure the redness of his cheeks, he fails miserably.

Satan

~When you catch him reading a romance novel.

He’s usually buried in classics or rare texts, but today he didn’t expect you to find him in the library with a dog-eared romance, totally invested. “You’re reading that?” you ask. His eyes widen. “It’s... for research,” he says too quickly. You sit next to him with a smirk. He sighs in defeat, but the way he won’t quite meet your gaze gives him away.

~When you're cooking together.

You come up behind him quietly as he stirs a pot, one hand on shoulder, other hand raising a spoonful of what you’re both making to his lips. He’s startled by how intimate it feels. When you tease that you’re the better chef, he raises an eyebrow, but he’s smiling (and a little flushed). He’s not used to gentleness like this in the kitchen. He likes it more than he admits.

~When you give him cat-themed gifts.

He insists he doesn’t need trinkets, but you’ve caught on to his weakness. A handmade bookmark with paw prints? He clears his throat and thanks you quietly. A mug with a curled-up kitten? He drinks from it in private. But when you give him a cat-ear headband “just for fun,” and then slip it on your own head with a smirk, he chokes on his tea. “I’m not wearing that,” he says, but you drape it onto his head anyway, and the way he turns crimson and looks away tells you all you need to know.

Asmodeus

~When you turn the charm back on him.

Asmo’s always the flirty one, and it's difficult to fluster the Avatar of Lust. But when you take the lead, leaning in close and whispering something suggestive, his eyes widen. Especially because you don't act like that in front of the others, it makes him feel especially special.

~When you help him remove his makeup

Late at night. He’s tired. You sit him down and start removing his makeup with slow, gentle motions. He goes silent, blinking at you. “You’re so sweet… that’s not fair,” he whispers. He looks away with a shy smile, hands nervously playing with his robe.

~When you wear one of his robes around the house.

You strolling the hallway after a shower, wearing his silky, floral-printed robe like it’s yours. He gasps dramatically from down the hall, “Is that mine?” he clutches his chest, eyes wide, and scurries over.“It looks better on you,” he purrs. He pads over, fingers brushing the collar at your neck. “I need to take some pictures! And then take it off. Slowly.” Of course, it's only natural for him to fluster you in return.

Beelzebub

~When you offer him your last bite.

He blinks slowly, looking from the fork to your face. “Are you sure?” he asks softly. When you nod, he takes it so carefully, almost reverently. “That’s… really nice of you.” His cheeks glow pink, and he looks at you like you just gave him your heart. The little smile he gives you when his mouth is full makes you melt.

~When you wipe food from his mouth, then eat it.

You're both sharing a creamy, chocolate dessert and something sticks to the corner of his mouth. Without hesitation, you reach out and swipe it off with your thumb. He freezes for a moment, watching you inspect your thumb briefly before licking it. His eyebrows twitch upwards and his face turns red. He doesn’t say anything, he just quietly beams.

Belphegor

~When you gently brush his bangs from his face.

He’s laying in bed, half-awake, and you reach out to fix his hair. His eyes open slowly, a little wide. “Don’t look at me like that,” he says, voice rough with sleep. “It’s weird.” But the way he avoids your gaze, the way his cheeks bloom pink, says he didn’t mind.

~When you say you dreamed about him.

He plays it off at first. “Yeah? I bet I was amazing.” But he can't hide his curiosity, he brings it up again and asks what it was about. You dreamed about him holding your hand, or watching stars with him, or something gentle like that. His smile turns sheepish. “You’re weird,” he says, voice quiet, affectionate. He won’t say it, but he’ll try to recreate that dream later. Just for you

~When you play with his hair while his head is in your lap.

Occasionally he dozes off that way, wakes up, tries to run his hand through his hair and finds some strands braided. When he blinks the blurriness away he sees your face above him. He opens his mouth but nothing comes out, just a slight huff as he turns closer towards you. You catch the red of his cheeks and ears and you know he secretly likes it.

[yzzart]

Hii, I just watched the anime and I was obsessed with Dante's demonic form 👀 could you write something that has him in this transformation? I trust your creativity!

⋆˚࿔ ARM ON FIRE, VEINS BURNING RED..! ── HEADCANONS

୭˚. ᵎᵎ content warnings: references to anime, mention of Devil Trigger and Enzo, reader making puns, light content.

⭑.ᐟ Okay, you should start getting used to, it seemed, your boyfriend's new appearance; — or rather, transformation — it was merely a matter of keeping calm. — Acting like the most normal thing that could happen; and you really took your little “goal” seriously.

⤷ Of course, your boyfriend, now nearly 3 meters tall, besides the huge red wings and horns, was still the same; nothing had changed. — Well, just his temper, but sometimes. — He continued with his terrible jokes, that was the focus.

⭑.ᐟ It was all kind of new to him; Dante didn't know how to properly control or learn to resist his transformation; however, it wouldn't be that complicated, it could take time, obviously, but he wouldn't stop delving deeper. — you, too, would join in during his “learning” — And, honestly, that damn hunter was enjoying it.

⤷ He didn't mind you comparing him to that red bird from “Angry Birds,” because of his reddish and black coloring; and, to make matters worse, Enzo laughed with tears in his eyes, repeating your words. — Oh, he was dating a comedian and didn't know it.

⭑.ᐟ Whenever there was a chance, Dante would poke you, caress you, with his big wings; after gaining your attention, he would welcome her, embrace your body, keeping you as close to him as possible. — He liked doing this, more than he should, actually. — You had never felt so much safety, care, security in your life; never at all.

⤷ Dante had no idea — it was on purpose, and you knew it — of the size he had become during his transformation; he acted as if nothing had changed, not his weight, his height, nothing. — So, it was normal that, while his devil trigger was activated, your boyfriend covered your body with his long, strong arms, squeezing your skin with his claws, accompanied by his wings; by the gods, you had disappeared among that demon. — It was as if you were a simple and mere plush toy.

⭑.ᐟ Dante felt a little strange, perhaps, desolate; although he enjoyed the new adrenaline, learning to have fun with his skills, he couldn't help but feel that unusual, unusual feeling in his chest. — In few situations, he could be honest, sincere with his own feelings; something he also learned to deal with. — He didn't want to show it to anyone, he hated feeling so vulnerable.

⤷ However, that half-demon could not, nor would he dare, lie to you; nor let things pass under your nose. — His eyes, now that had obtained a yellowish coloration, together with an orange one, reflecting lava, conveyed his true thoughts.

⭑.ᐟ Oh, if Dante thinks he's earned the title of greatest amateur comedian or best punner — a title he invented — he's finally gained a competitor; you've elevated your creativity since his first devil trigger.

⤷ Come on, he was losing his biggest role and profession of his life; it sounded so ridiculous, but Dante took it seriously. — Even Enzo started to cheer, laughing at your puns.

“Did you know that demons love's first class? They say it’s devilish luxurious!” — Dante wondered how he hadn’t thought of this before.

“Why don’t demons need jet fuel?” — You questioned, trying to contain your laughter, biting your lips, like a child planning a prank; Dante, tilting his horns towards you, knew what was coming.

“Why, cutie?” — ​​His tone of voice, a little altered, more hoarse and serious, exclaimed in your ears.

“Cause’ they run on pure evil energy..!”

“Please, stop trying to steal my work.”

[hjpsdiary]

slytherin boy's headcons (them as ur bf <3)

theodore nott as your boyfriend :

• he’s the definition of quiet but observant; he notices every little thing about you, from your favorite snacks to how you fidget when nervous.

• doesn’t talk much, but when he does, it’s meaningful—his compliments feel rare and precious.

• surprisingly affectionate in private; he’ll always find excuses to brush his fingers against yours or pull you close when no one’s looking.

• reads a lot and will casually leave books he thinks you’d like in your bag or on your desk.

• fiercely protective but subtle about it—he’ll silently step in when someone’s bothering you or shoot a glare that makes them back off immediately.

• has a sarcastic sense of humor that comes out more as he gets comfortable with you; you’re one of the few people who ever see him smile.

• remembers everything you say, even the small things, and will surprise you by acting on it weeks later.

• not big on grand romantic gestures but makes up for it with small, thoughtful actions, like brewing your favorite tea or saving you a seat in class.

• loves stargazing; it’s one of the rare times he really opens up, sharing his thoughts and dreams while lying next to you under the stars.

• isn’t the best with words when expressing feelings but tries to write them down for you in short, heartfelt notes.

• values trust above all else; if you’re patient with him, he’ll let his walls down completely and be endlessly loyal.

• his love language is acts of service—he’ll carry your books, fix your broken quill, or help you study without you even asking.

• secretly adores when you wear something of his, like a sweater or scarf, and won’t say it outright but will be internally smug all day.

• has a soft, calming presence that makes you feel safe and at ease no matter what’s going on around you.

• he’s not perfect, sometimes retreating into himself when overwhelmed, but he’ll always come back to you, knowing you’re his anchor.

mattheo riddle as your boyfriend :

• the ultimate bad boy with a soft spot only for you; he’s tough around others but absolutely melts when it comes to you.

• constantly teases you but gets genuinely offended if you don’t fire back—he loves the banter.

• incredibly protective to the point where he’ll square up with anyone who even looks at you the wrong way.

• thrives on physical touch—his arm is always slung around your shoulders, hand in your back pocket, or fingers intertwined with yours.

• has a devilish grin that he only uses to fluster you because he knows it works every single time.

• somehow knows exactly where you are at all times, and not in a creepy way—just always shows up when you need him.

• calls you ridiculous nicknames like “princess,” “trouble,” or “love,” depending on his mood.

• super possessive but not in a toxic way—he just loves reminding people that you’re his.

• absolutely hates when you’re upset with him and will go out of his way to apologize, even if it means swallowing his pride.

• smokes casually and offers you his jacket when it’s cold, the scent of him lingering on it for hours after.

• loves pulling you into trouble with him, whether it’s sneaking out after curfew or pranking someone, but always makes sure you’re safe.

• surprisingly intellectual—he can talk about dark magic theories for hours and gets a kick out of teaching you forbidden spells.

• his temper can flare up, especially when someone crosses you, but he always calms down when you’re around.

• absolutely adores seeing you in his clothes; he’ll smirk and say, “Looks better on you, anyway.”

• deeply loyal—once you have his heart, there’s no getting rid of him, and he’ll do anything to keep you happy.

• loves late-night conversations, where he gets a little vulnerable and tells you about his past and his fears.

• has a soft side he rarely shows, but when he does, it’s for you—whether it’s stroking your hair when you’re stressed or mumbling “I love you” when he thinks you’re asleep.

• he’s chaos personified, but somehow, with you, he feels like he’s finally found a bit of peace.

lorenzo birkshire as your boyfriend:

• he’s the smooth talker who flirts like it’s second nature, but with you, it’s genuine—he means every word.

• loves to make you laugh; he’ll go out of his way to crack jokes, pull silly faces, or do over-the-top impressions just to see you smile.

• low-key a hopeless romantic; he’ll surprise you with little handwritten notes, flowers he “found,” or surprise dates in secret spots.

• absolutely loves PDA—he’s the type to kiss your cheek in front of everyone or hold your hand just to let people know you’re his.

• he’s fiercely loyal, and anyone who tries to mess with you instantly regrets it; he’ll defend you without hesitation.

• the type to whisper in your ear during class, making you both laugh quietly, even if it earns him a detention.

• incredibly charming but gets adorably flustered when you flirt back or catch him off guard.

• loves spoiling you in small ways—buying you your favorite sweets, carrying your bag, or sneaking you an extra butterbeer during Hogsmeade trips.

• surprisingly good at comforting you when you’re upset; he’ll listen, wrap you in a warm hug, and crack just the right joke to lighten the mood.

• lives for the banter between you two; he thinks it’s hilarious when you try to outwit him, even if you win.

• would give you his scarf or cloak without hesitation if you were cold and wouldn’t stop teasing you about looking “adorable” in it.

• the type to plan spontaneous adventures, dragging you out of bed to sneak around the castle or explore forbidden areas.

• he’s a mix of chaotic energy and soft affection, always knowing when to be playful and when to be serious.

• low-key brags about you to his friends but pretends he’s “too cool” to care when they tease him about how smitten he is.

• loves running his fingers through your hair absentmindedly, especially when you’re sitting close or leaning against him.

• insists on being your biggest cheerleader, hyping you up before exams, Quidditch matches, or even small challenges.

• gets jealous easily but tries to play it off—he’s terrible at hiding it, though, and ends up pouting until you reassure him.

• he’s the kind of boyfriend who’s both your partner in crime and your safe place, balancing wild fun with genuine love.

draco malfoy as your boyfreind:

• starts off guarded, but once he lets his walls down, he’s completely devoted to you.

• the type to act all cool and aloof in public but secretly loves holding your hand or brushing his fingers against yours.

• buys you extravagant gifts, not because he’s trying to show off, but because it’s how he expresses his love—jewelry, rare books, or even something sentimental he knows you’ll cherish.

• incredibly protective; he’d go out of his way to make sure you’re safe and comfortable, whether that means intimidating someone who’s bothering you or walking you to every class.

• struggles to express his emotions verbally but makes up for it through his actions—he’ll always be there when you need him, no questions asked.

• low-key thrives on your praise; hearing you say you’re proud of him or appreciate him makes him feel on top of the world.

• gets jealous easily and tries to play it cool, but his little snarky comments give him away every time.

• loves spoiling you in subtle ways, like slipping your favorite dessert onto your plate at dinner or reserving the best spot in the library for you.

• softens dramatically when he’s with you; he goes from sharp sarcasm to quiet vulnerability in your presence.

• late-night talks are where he truly opens up, sharing his fears, insecurities, and dreams he’s too afraid to admit to anyone else.

• secretly loves when you mess with his perfectly styled hair, even though he’ll complain about it every time.

• will drape his scarf or coat around your shoulders if you’re cold, muttering something about how he “can’t have you freezing to death.”

• loves hearing you laugh; he’ll go out of his way to say something witty just to see you smile, even if it’s at his expense.

• incredibly attentive to your needs—he notices when you’re tired, stressed, or upset, and does everything he can to help.

• he’s not big on public displays of affection but will always find little ways to show you’re his, like resting his hand on your lower back or standing close enough for your shoulders to touch.

• gets flustered when you compliment him, especially if you call him handsome or clever—he’ll roll his eyes, but his pink cheeks give him away.

• he’s not perfect and sometimes lashes out when he’s stressed, but he’s quick to apologize and make it up to you.

• when he says he loves you, it’s rare but deeply meaningful—you can tell he means it with everything he has.

• despite his flaws, he’s fiercely loyal, endlessly protective, and wholly yours, doing everything he can to make you feel loved.

blaise zabini as your boyfriend:

• effortlessly smooth and confident, he doesn’t even need to try to charm you—it’s just who he is.

• the king of subtle but meaningful gestures, like holding doors open for you, pulling out your chair, or placing his hand on your lower back to guide you through a crowd.

• loves to spoil you, but in a classy, understated way—think fine chocolate, rare books, or spontaneous weekend getaways.

• very private about your relationship; he keeps most of his affection behind closed doors but isn’t shy about letting people know you’re his.

• gives the best advice; he’s incredibly perceptive and always knows the right thing to say when you’re stressed or upset.

• he’s not big on loud, over-the-top displays of affection, but his actions always show how much he cares—he’s the type to quietly take care of things before you even ask.

• loves watching you talk about something you’re passionate about; he’ll rest his chin in his hand and just admire you with a soft smile.

• has a wicked sense of humor and loves teasing you, but it’s always playful and never hurtful—he secretly loves when you tease him back.

• he’s the epitome of cool, calm, and collected, but you’re the only one who can fluster him when you catch him off guard with affection or a well-timed compliment.

• ridiculously good at remembering details about you, like your favorite drink, your childhood stories, or even the exact shade of your favorite lipstick.

• loves to keep you close—whether it’s casually draping an arm over your shoulder or pulling you into his lap when you’re alone together.

• fiercely protective but subtle about it; one look from him is enough to make anyone second-guess bothering you.

• will casually drop compliments about you in conversations with his friends, but if they tease him about being soft, he just smirks and doesn’t deny it.

• he’s a fantastic listener and always makes you feel like you’re the most important person in the room when you’re talking to him.

• takes immense pride in how you carry yourself and always reminds you of how incredible you are, even if you don’t see it yourself.

• adores dressing up for dates with you and insists on coordinating outfits so you both look effortlessly elegant together.

• late nights with him often involve deep conversations, a bottle of wine, and a lot of soft touches as he shares pieces of himself he doesn’t show anyone else.

• has a surprisingly tender side—he’ll hold you close when you’re feeling down, whispering reassurances that everything will be okay.

• he’s all about balance: the perfect mix of suave, playful, and deeply caring, making you feel like the luckiest person in the world.

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

Aemond x brothel reader 👀

So what if instead of Aemond visiting the older woman in yesterday’s episode - he goes to the brothel and immediately regrets it and is about to leave until he sees reader and is mesmerized by her beauty. They have their little moment and she gives him comfort. Definitely feel free to add more or change anything! This is just a thought that I’d like to see created. Thank you!

Request: Aemond and a brothel girl (maybe a dancer idk) like the scene in the episode. Except they are more intimate and not weird age gap like the madam. It gave me the ick… He truly feels for her.

Warnings: mention of (past) character death, mommy issues,

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

The mysterious customer under a cloak all piqued your curiosity. You never had the chance of properly seeing him, always immediately escorted to a private bed. Some girls said he was disfigured, and that it was the reason he covered himself with a cloak. Some said it was Aegon Targaryen, but you knew the newly crowned King favored Flea Bottom’s whores. 

As you danced, your eyes would try to see through the veils he hid behind. To get a glimpse of him. But you never saw anything other than his bare feet. All you knew was that he was with Madam Sylvi and that he requested hot milk.

One late evening, you saw him leaving the veils. His cloak was on, but he saw you. He saw you dancing and moving your naked body to the rhythm of the music, entertaining the customers. 

The next time he came by, he asked for you. 

Madam Sylvi was not pleased, but he was the paying customer. 

You reminded him of his mother — physically —, but more caring and nurturing. He found your voice soothing and loved to rub himself against the fullness of your breasts, making your nipples harden to the stimulation, until he came to rest his cheek on top of it, humming in satisfaction. His mother let him do this as a child, when she was still comforting him, and he missed it. 

Every night, he would curl against you, or in your lap, and stay here for hours as you gently caressed his pale skin. Unlike the other customers, Aemond was not there for sexual satisfaction. He just wanted comfort.

‘’Daemon sent them to kill me,’’ he said, his naked body shielded by the veils circling the large bed. ‘’It was my head they wanted, not my innocent little nephew’s.’’

Your heart was heavy as the prince mentioned the murder of Jaehaerys — a child. The barbarous act had everyone in tears. 

You rubbed his arm gently, the aroma of calming lavender wrapping around you. ‘’But you were with me.’’

‘’I feel sorry for my brother and sweet sister. She is traumatized.’’ Guilt filled his stomach as he remembered the suffering and painful grief in Helaena’s eyes. ‘’I should be grateful they did not find me, but a part of me wishes they had. Unlike my little nephew, I would have been able to defend myself.’’

‘’We cannot change the past, my prince.’’ 

‘’I know,’’ Aemond whispered, his cold, princely facade completely down in your company. He sighed deeply as your gentle caresses soothed his weary soul. His body relaxed as he buried his face into your covered chest, seeking solace in your warmth and tenderness. ‘’There’s a lot I would change about the past if I could. I…I do regret that business with Luke. I lost my temper that day, and I am sorry for it.’’

You stroked his hair gently, the soft, silvery locks running through your fingers. You could feel the tension in his body slowly melting away as he rested against you.

Aemond's eye closed at your touch, and a small sigh escaped his lips. ‘’They used to tease me, you know? Because I was different. One time, in the dragonpit, they…they said they found me a dragon. It was a pig. And my brother was part of the prank.’’

’'That was cruel of them,'’ you said softly, leaning to kiss his temple. He leaned into your touch as you wrapped your arms around him in a comforting embrace. ‘’They were cruel to you, my prince. You didn't deserve their taunts and mockery.'’ 

You felt his hand reaching up and palming your breasts through your clothing. Getting the hint of what he wanted, you untied the front of your dress and freed your breasts. Immediately, Aemond’s mouth started to press kisses over them before. His hot tongue swiped over your nipple. You let him do what he desired, knowing this was his way of finding comfort. The warmth of his hand and the wetness of his tongue sent a shiver down your spine, but you focused on his needs.

As Aemond continued his sweet assault on your breasts, you noticed his cock was getting hard against his thigh, but didn’t mention it. Madam Sylvi never touched him there...or kissed him. Only you — when he asked for it. 

The music outside the curtains changed, and he shifted, letting go of your breasts to curl up with his head on your lap instead. You continued to rub his shoulder down to his back, then along his thigh and leg. 

‘’When I claimed Vhagar, I felt powerful.’’ 

His pride and confidence had swelled to an almost unmanageable extent when he returned to Driftmark. He was excited to tell Aegon, and his mother about Vhagar. But his cousins and nephews found him first. They got into a fight over the dragon…and Lucerys Velaryon took out his eyes. 

As if you read his thoughts, your finger brushed the scar going through his eyebrow. You couldn’t imagine the pain he went through. 

‘’Was it why you went after Luke that day? Because you wanted him to be afraid of you and your superior dragon?’’ 

Aemond grew still at the mention of Lucerys, the memory of that fateful day on Storm’s End, the catalyst of the brewing war, still fresh in his mind. 

After a moment's hesitation, he nodded slowly. ‘’Yes... In a way, I suppose so.’’ 

You hummed, brushing your fingertips along his cheekbone softly. 

Aemond wished he could take you to the Keep. To his chambers. It would be nice to not have to hide under a cloak at night and risk getting seen by anyone who shouldn’t. He wished you would be there, in his bed, when he would return from small council meetings, training or even just supper, to take care of him and hold him.

But that was impossible. His mother would never allow it.  

—

House of the dragon taglist: @khaleesihavilliard@domoron @ididliquorice @lover-of-helios@lover-of-helios @shine101 @tanyaherondale@mikariell95 @serrendiipty @lantsovheiress @gilliananderfuckme @shine101 @tetgod @clayzayden@memeorydotcom @tnu-ree @futuregws @blackravena @winxschester @mysteriouslydelightfulchaos @xxlaynaxx @secretsthathauntus @pilarxxxaguayo @emmavan39 @stargaryenx @erylilly @bbblackmamba @rainedrop97 @dreamer087 @gothicgay14 @ashlatano7567 @superkittywonderland @justaproudslytherpuff @evesolstice @buckysmainhxe @padfootsvixen @scarletmeii @evesolstice @dkathl @kaywsworld @tetgod @padfootsvixen @domoron  @weird-addiction @angeliod @xjennyx2 @adaydreamaway08  @mymultiveres  @secretsthathauntus  @puffycreamcakes @thirsty4nonlivingmen @naty-1001 @katiepie67 @moshpot24x @hc-geralt-23 @lovelynerdytraveler @saturn-sas  @zgzgh @sssjuico10 @tabloidteen @timetoten @deekaag @wondxrgurl @aerangi @strmborns @astridyoo15 @daemonslittlebitch @queenbeestuffs @severewobblerlightdragon @agentstarkid @msliz @vane1999-blog @fairyfolkloresposts @todaywasafairytale07 @otomaniac @zgzgzh @thebeardedmoon @golden-library @kikyrizuki @hnslchw @camy85 @winxschester @armstrongscommentsection @withfireandbl00d @randomstory56 @JudgmentDays-Girl @darylandbethfanforever9 @darylandbethfanforever9 @aegonswife @dakotapaigelove @jays-bullshit

All and more taglist: @kenqki@hawkegfs@gillybear17@black-rose-29@fudge13@cece05@laylasbunbunny@gemofthenight@beautyb1ade@mellabella101 @vxnity713  @bisexualgirlsblog@queenofslytherin889 @thatbxtchesblog @softb-tterfly @ethanlandrycanbreakmyheart  @xyzstar  @graceberman3   @mikeyspinkcup @jackierose902109 @daisydark @laurasdrey @mischieftom @fanatic4niall @peterholland04 @idkwhattonamethisblogs  @lexasaurs634  @notasadgirlipromise @zoeynicolas @thejuleshypothesis @multi-fandom-bi-bitch @lexasaurs634  @notasadgirlipromise @thejuleshypothesis  @katherinejess  @rafesgirlstuff   @lafleshlumpeater @iamluminosity  @Anouknani-2305 @books0fever @papichulo120627 @qardasngan @ghostlyvoidydragon @M0rgans1nterlud3 @dahlia-blossom21

[ailoda]

updated: 09.03.25

⚯ ͛ fluff

Veritaserum (❤): when Mattheo drinks veritaserum on a bet, he's confident he doesn't have anything to hide... until you show up. (@redeemingvillains)

Now She Has Me Under Her Skirt (❤): in which Mattheo is absolutely in love with you before you two even talk for the first time. (@meelusinee)

↪︎ Walking In A Winter Wonderland (❤): in which you spend christmas with Mattheo and his friends. (part two)

Cinnamon Girl (❤❅): after years of keeping your distance from the one boy who probably wants you dead, you have an unexpected encounter with mattheo at hogsmeade. (@illbegottenfaith)

Cold Comfort (❤): Mattheo has one rule: any girl can share his bed (and there's been plenty) but none can stay the night. when the unexpected happens, and you're begging to be the first, you find out why he had the rule in the first place. (@redeemingvillains)

If I Can't Have You Baby (❤): you weren't quite used to the attention of other boys, and it seems your brother's best friend isn't too fond of it either. (@angelfic)

Ink & Ivy (❤): when you start a seemingly regular shift at Ink & Ivy, a new bookstore, an old friend's prank backfires. (@ur-local-wizard)

new! Reckless (❤❅): ever since you met mattheo, you knew he had a temper. but when some creep at a party gets too close to you, he completely snaps. now you're in his dorm, everyone yelling, but all you can think about is how pretty he looks when he's angry. (@iamgonnagetyouback)

new! Love Potion (❤): Mattheo always looked at you in a certain way. (@multific)

new! Apothecary's Rebel (❤❅): hogwarts' bad boy can't seem to find a way to stay out of the infirmary where you're working to become a healer, but as the stakes get higher, you struggle to understand if you're simply a means to an end, or something much more. (@redeemingvillains)

[2-dsimp]

That post about nokka telling his kids off about mom's cooking reminds me of that tiktok

I think of the son and mom pranking the dad by the son saying "shut up mom" and boss music plays

Sorry bad English

“Wife you’d best be ready to make a replacement for this one here.” Your husband, immediately dropped his heavy weights and started cracking his rough knuckles. “That boy, done lost his fucking mind and imma help him find it in the afterlife.”

Long story short you had to haul as to drape yourself over your son. To save him from having his ass whooped n walloped by his hot tempered father. Trying to explain how it was just a prank, he put both y’all asses in timeout for that trifling shit.

Morale of the story, Nokka don’t fuck around when it comes to his wife. Be it his child or not he won’t hesitate to do what he thinks needs to be done.

——

A/n: btw don’t worry, your English is good!

[nosyp]

First years as yanderes

Second years | Third years

Ace Trappola

When you first meet him, it's mostly just playful teasing, harmless pranks and subtle flirting but as time passes, it becomes much much worse.

From an outsider's perspective, they would probably think you and Ace are the cutest couple but behind closed doors, it's a whole different narrative.

He's possessive, always demanding to know where you were going, claiming it's just to 'protect you'. At some point, it gets so intense that he ends up making curfews for you and installing a tracker on your phone.

And when you try to leave, he finds a way to guilt trip you by saying things like "I thought we were more than that. You're really gonna leave me? Even after everything?"

Deuce Spade

He's overprotective. He has a really short temper and is a former delinquent. You can't blame him if he accidently sends someone to the hospital because they made you trip on accident, can you?

He’s convinced his violent outbursts are justified. After all, he’s only doing it for you. “They disrespected you! What was I supposed to do? Let them get away with it?”

When you attempt to scold him for injuring someone, he pleads with you for you to understand... after all, he did this for you.

“You still love me, right? I did this for you… you understand that, don’t you?” "No Deuce! You're crazy! Stop it!"

The whole situation is a crazed mess. He felt as your relationship crumbled into pieces and he tries to piece it back together like a huge puzzle.

Deuce would never hurt you directly though, instead he would isolate you, trap you in a secluded area, far away from everyone else. He does this all because he believes that if you interact with anyone else other than him, your mind will be 'corrupted'.

Jack Howl

He's not a guilt-tripper or a manipulator like the others, but he is for sure just as overprotective.

He'd follow you everywhere, he's convinced that you need his protection 24/7. He believes that even if for a second that he looks away, you'll get hurt... and it'll be all his fault.

He's not as crazy possessive as the others, but he does things that make you think he is. He'd cut people out of your life if he believes that they're a bad influence. It gets to the point that he cuts everyone out of your life, except for him.

Jack believes he knows what’s best for you and if you fight back? He’ll look at you with those stoic, disappointed eyes, muttering: “You’re being stubborn again. Don’t you trust me?”

Finally, when you lose everything, you could only cling onto Jack. Binding you with him forever.

Epel Felmier

Epel’s obsession stems from his frustration with his history of being underestimated. Around you, he wants to be seen as strong and capable, but it quickly becomes suffocating. He’ll lash out at anyone who dares undermine his masculinity or threaten his place at your side.

He clings to you as proof of his strength. If you ever reject him, it shatters his pride. That’s when Epel becomes truly dangerous—his temper is explosive, and his upbringing makes him surprisingly ruthless when he wants to be.

He’d sabotage friendships and relationships behind the scenes, spreading rumors with a sweet smile. “I’d hate for people to misunderstand you. It’s better if you stay with me—you can trust me.” he'd mutter to you.

Epel would be the type to snap if you tried to leave. His desperation would finally boil over, his hands trembling as he blocks the door. “You can’t leave. You’re mine, and I’ll fight anyone who tries to take you away.”

Sebek Zigvolt

Sebek’s obssessed. It's loud, unwavering, and borderline fanatical. He worships you. He adores you. He'll never let you out of his sight.

He sees himself as your protector, often to an extreme. He’ll argue, yell, and shame you for spending time with 'unworthy' people. “They’re way under you! Why waste your time on them when you have me?”

Sebek’s outbursts make it impossible for anyone to approach you. While he never has the intent to hurt you, the sheer intensity of his actions becomes overwhelming.

If you tried to distance yourself, he’d be furious, raging mad but underneath it all is desperation. He would spew out random nonsense in an attempt to earn you back. “Don’t you understand? No one can love and protect you like I can! I was made for this—I was made for you!”

Ortho Shroud (platonic)

Ortho's an overprotective yandere (platonic). He'd monitor your whole life, from where your going to who your spending time with. He knows it all, no details spared.

If you ever mention that you were going out, he'd insist on coming with you. Telling you that it's much safer for you to let him come with you.

He's emotionally dependent on you. Just like how attached he is to his brother, he'd easily become as attached with you. He'd feel like he needs you in his life, and his happiness would become increasingly tied to your attention and affection.

He's not jealous or anything but when he realizes that you're spending less time with him, he'll get more clingy or subtly try to make you feel guilty for not spending enough time with him. "But… I thought we could hang out. Don’t you want to be with me?"

In the worst-case scenario, if you ever try to pull away or create distance, Ortho could start to tweak. He’d be unable to understand why you wouldn’t want to spend every moment with him, and he might say something like, “But I’m your friend… I thought you’d never leave me. You’re my only friend. Please don’t abandon me.” His voice would be soft, and though his words would seem sweet, the emotional pressure behind them would be overwhelming.

[wonderjanga]

The Devil’s Temptations

The Devil’s Temptations: Smoking, Drinking, and Rock and Roll. Or at least, that’s what the pastor told Billy once when the man gave him ten bucks for food. The man lets him clean up the chapel seats every other Sunday for money. During Christmases, he decides to be more generous and give Billy twenties. You see, Billy has an interesting relationship with all three of the things. The relationships would no doubt disappoint the pastor. Though, two out of the three are simply to make himself seem more adult as Marvel, while one of them is simply because Freddy likes Elvis.

Like the smoking, it’s something adults do. Billy himself would never ever ever try it. (besides that one time he tried a cotton candy, watermelon, peach, strawberry, coconut vape and immediately ended up vomiting what little food he had eaten that day) But! Marvel’s an adult. And last he heard, you had to be like twenty something to get cigarettes. That’s what Mary told him anyways. So, every now and then, he’ll try to drop stealthy little hints that he smokes whenever Solomon suggests it.

One of these instances was when league ended up having to fight this ginormous octopus that was nearly as big as Metropolis. The battle ended with the monster exploding. Every league member on duty was covered in monster guts, blood, and juices. Including Billy. Like actually. Everything in the area was stained purple from head to toe. As for why the octopus monster’s blood was purple? None of them had a single clue. They proceeded to stand in silence as the liquid dripped off of them and onto the ground, which was also purple.

Solomon: NOW BILLY! SAY IT.

Marvel: *drags hand down face to wipe off all the gunk and takes a deep sigh* “I need a cigarette.”

Other Leaguers: *slowly look to Marvel*

Marvel: *already heading to the nearest Zeta Location*

By the way, he stole this phrase from a prostitute friend of Ms.Bambi who got caught and soaked in the rain while working the corner. Let’s also say it’s Ms.Foxy from my Marvel Pranks Hal post. (In that post, she’s still a prostitute, and if you want to know what she has to do with pranking Hal… Billy’s a little, a lot unhinged in that post)

//mini flashback//

Billy: *jogging through the hallway*

Ms.Foxy and Ms.Bambi: *talking*

Ms.Foxy: “I need a damn cigarette.”

Billy: “Hi, Ms.Bambi! Hi, Ms.Foxy!” *waves as he passes by them*

//end of mini flashback//

The two had no idea the child heard.

After this incident, Aquaman invited him for whiskey and cigars with a couple other heroes. They ended up playing poker, in which Billy basically ended up robbing them blind. Poker Nights with the Lords of different Hells really pays off. Also, a hero snuck a picture of him as Marvel, dressed in civvies with a cigar in between his teeth while holding some cards. Anyone who saw this didn’t know whether to be surprised that Marvel smokes cigars, or that he can play poker.

Aquaman: “How long have you smoked?”

Marvel: “Uh…”

Solomon: “TWELVE YEARS, BOY!”

Marvel: “Twelve years.”

Aquaman: “Damn, and you have the voice of an angel. I don’t hear the slightest bit of grit. How do you do it?”

Marvel: “The uh- smoke doesn’t harm me.”

Aquaman: “Ooooooh.”

Then, there’s Billy’s relationship with drinking. Now, you see, he’s never personally been a fan of drinking. Many of his foster parents did, but surprisingly, the few parents that were heavy drinkers had their moods tempered down. You’d think it’d make it worse. So, if anything, Billy has an okay relationship with it. He doesn’t like it because of the bad memories it brings, but it itself wasn’t what caused those memories.

Though, nowadays, he has better memories of drinking. It reminds him of the others dragging him to bars and having fun and all that. Now, he doesn’t really go with them often, considering the fact it’s kind of illegal, but he’ll go every now and then and come back with a smile. He loves the frozen daiquiris. They’re basically just slushes with a zing. Even then, it’s not like he can get drunk in his Marvel form.

GL: *tipsy* “Dude, why do you keep ordering daiquiris?”

Marvel: “They’re delicious. Want some?” *offers his drink*

GL: *sips from Marvel’s straw* “Stop, these are actually really good.”

Marvel: “I know, right?” *takes his straw out, places it on a napkin, asks Dinah for hand sanitizer (idk she seems like the type to carry a little bottle in her purse), then proceeds to squirt a giant glob over the part of the straw Hal sipped from*

GL: *doesn’t notice and orders a daiquiri for himself*

By the way, every single person is rightfully horrified when they found out Billy is a kid.

Aquaman: *thousand yard stare as he remembers the times he’s drank and smoked with Marvel*

Flash: *absolutely horrified with his jaw dropped so far down it looks dislocated because he remembered he invited Marvel to his bachelor party*

Superman: *same expression as Flash as he remembered all the times they sent Marvel to fight him whenever he got mind controlled*

GL: *sweating as he remembers the times he’s tried to invite Marvel to clubs* (That was an automatic hell no for Billy. He might try to act more like an adult but he is absolutely never stepping foot into a club.)

Batman: *eyes slowly moving to side eye everyone mentioned above*

Wonder Woman: *more puzzled than anything because she thought of Cap as a big brother. Is wondering if that means he’s now her little one*

Martian Manhunter: *surprised because he expected Marvel to be a hundred thousand year old immortal being or something*

[akiisp]

"The new snake"

Slytherin x reader|| One-shot

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Summary: She came to Hogwarts with a reputation; expelled from her last school, a temper like fire, and fists that spoke louder than her wand. Nobody knew the full story — and she didn’t owe them one. But Hogwarts wasn’t any better. The Gryffindors made sure of that. Mockery, hexes, sabotage — it didn’t stop. Until one day, she stopped holding back. With blood on her knuckles and rumors in her wake, she didn’t just earn detention — she earned the famous Slytherin’s attention. They weren’t just impressed — they were all in.

Chaos didn’t follow her. She was the chaos.

Warnings: Contains bullying, physical violence, emotional manipulation, mentions of blood

༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺ ༻✧༺ 　༻✦༺　༻✧༺

The Hogwarts rumor mill was working overtime. Whispers followed her through every hallway like shadows:

“Did you hear about the new Slytherin?”

“She got kicked out of her last school… for fighting.”

“I heard she knocked out three students with one curse.”

Truth be told, no one knew the full story. And she preferred it that way.

But Hogwarts wasn't much of a fresh start when the bullies came knocking — especially the Gryffindors.

It started small. A few snide comments. Looks. A trip jinx here and there. But then came the Weasley twins. Everyone laughed at their pranks — unless you were the target. Their “jokes” always seemed to hit harder when they were aimed at her. Paint bombs in her bag. Stinging hexes. A cursed quill that inked “SNAKE” across her face.

Ron wasn’t much better — constant emotional digs. “No wonder they kicked you out.” “Even Slytherin had to scrape the bottom of the barrel, huh?”

And Cormac McLaggen? He took it too far. Every single time. Too close, too loud, too smug.

She tried to keep her mother’s tear-stained face in mind — the only reason she was still keeping her fists down. Her mum had cried when she got expelled. “Please, no more fighting.”

But peace is hard when war is walking beside you.

The castle was quiet. A few students lingered near the arches, chatting lazily. A trio of Hufflepuff girls leaned against the wall, flipping through magazines. Two Ravenclaw boys sat on the steps nearby, mid-conversation.

She was walking alone when it started.

“Oi! Slytherin psycho!” Cormac McLaggen’s voice rang out like a curse.

She stopped, jaw tightening.

He strode toward her with that obnoxious strut, hands in his pockets and a smirk too wide to be harmless.

“You know, I’ve been wondering,” he said, circling her like a vulture, “what did you do to get kicked out of that last school? Curse a professor? Or did you finally lose it and break someone’s spine?”

A couple students were turning to watch now. The Hufflepuff girls stopped giggling. The Ravenclaws went quiet.

Cormac leaned in, dropping his voice just enough to make it more vicious.

“Or maybe you just couldn’t keep that freak temper of yours under control. Bet even your own house was scared of you. You’re not a Slytherin — you’re a liability with a wand.”

She stared at him. Stone still. Breathing steady.

He smirked wider, thinking he won.

“You gonna snap again? Come on then, show us all what a real threat looks like—”

She moved.

A blur of fists and fury, she shoved him back into the wall with a crack. One hit. Two. Blood.

The Hufflepuff girls screamed. A Ravenclaw ran for help. But no one moved fast enough.

She was on top of him, hands curled tight, every punch louder than the last.

“They expelled me for less than this. Want to see what I really got kicked out for?”

By the time a professor dragged her off him, Cormac’s face was a wreck, her hands were full of blood but not hers. Students stood frozen, eyes wide.

No one said a word.

Snape’s eyes were cold, but something about the tilt of his head… it wasn’t just discipline.

“Would you care to explain,” he drawled, “why you saw fit to launch yourself onto Mr. McLaggen in the middle of the hallway?”

Her voice was steady. “Gryffindors have been harassing me for weeks. I held back for as long as I could.”

A beat of silence. Snape looked at her, and for just a second, his mask slipped. He saw himself — years ago, tormented in shadows by laughing lions.

“…Three weeks detention,” he said quietly. “And twenty points from Gryffindor for instigating.”

By Monday morning, Hogwarts was ablaze with new gossip.

“Did you hear the new girl beat the shit out of McLaggen?” Blaise Zabini said, sliding into the Slytherin common room with a smirk.

“Oh, I heard,” Mattheo Riddle said, eyebrows raised. “She snapped his nose clean in two.”

Theodore Nott whistled. “Not bad.”

Blaise grinned. “That was genius.”

Pansy twirled her wand and smiled dreamily. “She’s very pretty… pretty dangerous. I like her.”

Draco, lounging in his chair, let out a low chuckle. "Finally, someone in this school with an actual spine."

The classroom was electric with whispers the moment she walked in.

Even without looking, she could feel eyes on her — some curious, others wary. Her knuckles were still bruised. Her reputation?

Officially carved into Hogwarts stone.

The legend of McLaggen’s broken face was still fresh, still hot.

Professor Snape stood at the front, robes shifting as he surveyed the class. “Wands out,” he said sharply. “We’re dueling today.”

Snape’s eyes flicked over the class. “Nott. Macmillan. Zabini. Finch-Fletchley.” Names were rattled off, pairs forming. Then his gaze lingered on her.

“…And L/N,” he drawled.

She stepped forward, eyes locked ahead.

“Versus…” He looked to the Gryffindor side with something close to disgust. “Morgan.”

A lanky Gryffindor boy stepped forward — smug, wand already twirling between his fingers.

“Shouldn’t she be in detention?” he muttered to his mates. “Not in a duel.”

Snape heard. “Do try not to embarrass your house, Morgan.”

She took her stance silently. Controlled. Focused. Not angry — not yet.

“Begin.”

The duel was fast.

He fired first, a showy jinx meant more to impress the room than win. She sidestepped it easily, her counter-spell tight, efficient — no flashy nonsense, just power and precision.

He tried again. She blocked it. Dodged another.

And then, one clean flick of her wand — Expelliarmus — and his wand flew from his hand and clattered against the wall.

He stumbled back, red-faced and furious.

The class gasped. Someone whistled.

Snape didn’t smile, but he looked… satisfied.

His eyes met hers with something bordering on approval. “Ten points to Slytherin.”

The Gryffindors glared. Then applause — but only from Slytherin.

Mattheo let out a low whistle. “That was a textbook.”

Blaise leaned back in his chair, arms crossed. “She fights like she’s been in real duels.”

Pansy twirled her wand, eyes sparkling. “She’s chaos. I adore her.”

Theodore looked genuinely impressed. “She doesn’t miss.”

Draco let out an impressed chuckle.

No one said it outright, but the shift was obvious.

She wasn’t just the new girl anymore.

The dungeons were quieter than usual, but the buzz hadn’t died down — if anything, it had grown.

She stepped into the common room, hands still bandaged from McLaggen, shoulders loose from that clean win against Morgan. Heads turned. Conversations paused. But no one said anything. Not until—

“There she is.” Blaise, lounging like royalty across the emerald velvet couch, gave her a lazy grin. “Cormac’s still eating soup, I hear. No solid food. Impressive.”

She arched a brow, but said nothing.

Mattheo sat cross-legged on the carpet, flipping a silver sickle between his fingers. “Snapped his nose, dodged every detention hex, then took down Morgan like it was a warm-up round. You’ve had… quite the week.”

Theodore Nott looked up from his book with a ghost of a smirk. “Bet she’s the one who turned the Gryffindor locker room into a goblin’s lavatory.”

She blinked — once — and didn’t deny it.

Mattheo barked a laugh. “Knew it.”

Pansy practically slid onto the seat beside her, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “You’re not just pretty. You’re strategic. That’s a dangerous combination.”

The room chuckled.

She let the silence stretch a second longer, then finally spoke.

“They started it.”

The group nodded like that was the only explanation needed.

Blaise leaned forward, interest sharpening. “What did you really get expelled for, though?”

She just smiled — slow, unreadable.

Mattheo nudged Theo. “We’ll get it out of her eventually.”

Pansy rolled her eyes. “Or she’ll murder you in your sleep.”

Blaise grinned. “Worth the risk.”

Draco, who’d been sitting on the other side of the couch, legs crossed, looked up from where he’d been tossing a quill between his fingers.

“Honestly,” he said casually, “if I knew she’d deck McLaggen like that, I would've saved her a seat weeks ago.”

Theo snorted. “You’re only saying that because she did what you almost did last year.”

Draco shrugged. “Difference is, she actually followed through.”

Laughter rolled through the group again — easy, natural. No judgment, no hesitation. And just like that… the new girl wasn’t just a rumor anymore.

She was a storm — and Slytherin? They had just found their new queen.

[myrleius]

here, beside you — bakugo k.

bodyguard bakugo k. x rich fem!reader│word count: 3.8k 

synopsis: Bakugo has been assigned by All Might to protect yn for two weeks.

cw/tags: fluff, slight angst, hurt/comfort, cursing (duh, it’s Bakugo)

Two weeks and it’s almost over. In just a few more hours, Bakugo would finally be free from this damn babysitting job.

He glanced at the brat—yn—perched by the window, eyes fixed on the evening sky. She clutched the windowsill with her thin fingers, though not as frail as when he first got here. It wasn’t just her body. Her whole presence felt more alive. When he arrived, she had been quiet and dull, like a zombie. Now, there was color on her face and an annoying little smirk replaced her vacant stare. She was still a pain in the ass though.

Bakugo had been stuck guarding yn for two weeks. Her parents were off on some important, top-secret business, and for whatever reason, they didn’t trust the swarm of maids and guards in their oversized mansion to handle things. Something about an assassin? Bakugo had a hunch it had something to do with her quirk, but no one seemed to tell him anything. Every time he asked, he got the same answer: ‘Classified.’

Normally, he wouldn’t take a boring gig like this, but when All Might personally asked, he wasn’t about to say no. The former hero had been close with yn’s family and watched over her when needed–until retirement took him out of the job.

Yn herself was… weird. Locked up in this mansion like some fragile porcelain doll, yet she acted nothing like one. She was lively, chatty, always running her mouth, and for some damn reason, she made it her personal mission to get on his nerves. He’d barked at her, insulted her, told her to shut up a hundred times, but she never flinched. Instead, she pushed back. Teasing, pranking, laughing in his face like his temper was just some joke. He would’ve definitely blown her face off if it weren’t for the fact that she was his client’s daughter. But over time, he got used to her antics, realizing that it was easier to just roll with it instead of fighting back.

Not that he’d ever admit it, but he’d grown used to her. Maybe even… liked having her around if he was feeling generous. She was one of the few people who didn’t treat him like a walking explosion waiting to go off. She didn’t care about his temper, never hesitated to talk back. And somehow, despite never stepping outside these walls, she knew more about the world than most people he’d met. Their late-night talks had actually been interesting to him.

He sighed, slouching on the windowsill beside her, gaze flicking to her from the corner of his eye. Hard to believe this was the last night. After this, it was back to U.A., back to normal.

“... Hey,” he muttered, voice gruff but softer than usual. “Wanna see those fireworks?” He paused. “Outside.”

He knew the rules. Knew she wasn’t supposed to leave. But fuck the rules. He wasn’t about to let her rot in this cage without at least one real taste of freedom.

Yn’s head snapped to the side, eyes widening for a split second before narrowing with mischief.

“How mean, Bakugo-san,” she drawled, lips curling into a smirk. “You shouldn't raise a lady’s hopes like that. She might just hold on to your words.”

Bakugo arched a brow, unimpressed. “Oh, so now you’re a lady?” he scoffed. “And I’m not raising your damn hopes, princess. I’m just saying we can look.”

Yn cocked her head toward the window, feigning innocence. “Isn’t that what we’re already doing?”

He rolled his eyes and gave her shoulder a light shove. “I’m serious, dumbass.”

Her teasing expression faltered. She hesitated, fingers curling around the fabric of her nightgown like she was trying not to let herself believe it.

“... Really?” she whispered, her voice quieter than he’d ever heard it. “You’ll take me?”

A snort escaped Bakugo, the beginnings of a grudging smile tugging at his lips. He wanted to say something sarcastic, but the way her eyes sparkled made his chest tighten, the snark dying in his throat before it could even leave his mouth. 

“Yeah.”

It was a simple word, but from the way her face lit up, it might as well have been everything. Her lips twitched into a smile. It was different from her usual smirks and smug grins. It was small. Real. … Kinda cute.

Not that he’d ever admit that.

Without thinking, he mirrored her smile, then extended his hand, palm up. “You in?”

She hesitated for only a moment before slipping her fingers into his.

“Okay. Just for a little while,” she said, drawing in a shaky breath, as if trying to keep herself grounded. But it was useless. Her feet were already bouncing with excitement. “So, how do we sneak out?”

“We’ll slip through the east wing. The guards are just about to switch.” He gave her hand a small squeeze before leading her toward the door, his voice low. “Just follow me and stay quiet. Don’t do anything stupid.”

She grinned. “Aye aye, captain.”

“Bakugo-san,” yn huffed, dragging her feet up the uneven slope. “How long are we going to keep going? Aren’t we far enough from the house already?”

Ahead of her, Bakugo barely looked winded, his pace steady as he surveyed their surroundings with a sharp eye. At her complaint, he shot her a smirk over his shoulder.

“What? Already tappin’ out?” His tone was laced with amusement, but despite his words, he slowed his steps, letting her catch up. “Quit whining. We’re almost there.”

Yn groaned, rubbing at her aching calves. “If we’re gonna watch the fireworks from this high up, we could’ve just stayed on the rooftop! I could’ve had Hana set up plush seats, warm blankets, maybe even… some snacks…”

She trailed off with a sharp inhale, her protests forgotten the moment she took in the sight before her.

The ridge opened up into a secluded clearing, set high above the city like a secret lookout point. Below, the town stretched in a sea of golden lights. And above it all, an endless expanse of stars, clear and unfiltered.

Bakugo barely had to look at her to know he’d won. His grin stretched wider. “Tch. That’s what I thought.”

And right on cue, the first firework streaked through the sky, bursting into red sparks that flickered against the dark. Its glow reflected in yn’s eyes, all bright, wide and adoring. To Bakugo, it was just another explosion. To her, it was something precious.

He tore his gaze away from her, shifting his eyes to the fireworks exploding across the sky. For the first time in a long while, his chest felt full. But not from the usual rush of victory or the burn of pushing himself past his limits.

It had always been about getting stronger, proving that he was the best. Meanwhile, the extras at U.A. wouldn’t shut up about "saving others" and "making them feel safe"—as if that crap mattered more than winning. He got it, sure, but he never really got it.

But now? Seeing her like this, giving her this moment, he understood.

It was about them.

The thought amused him. Maybe those nerds weren’t as full of shit as he thoug—

Bakugo stiffened. Something warm and soft brushed against his cheek. It was quick, almost as if it never happened, but the sensation lingered. That was the first thing he noticed. The second was that stupid expensive perfume she always wore. It was usually irritating, but somehow, tonight, it smelled sweeter. And then, the last thing—proximity. Too close.

Even as his brain processed it, another second passed before he caught up.

She kissed him.

On the damn cheek.

“Thank you.” 

Her voice was softer than usual, laced with… something. Something that only made his thoughts spiral even faster.

Bakugo turned to her slowly, immediately hating the way his eyes automatically looked down to her lips before his entire face went up in flames. His hand shot up to rub at the spot where she kissed him.

“Wh-What the hell!?” he sputtered, voice rougher than intended. “You can’t just—You’re not supposed to—!”

A snort cut him off.

“Pfft!” yn doubled over, shoulders shaking as laughter spilled out. Tears pricked the corners of her eyes as she clutched her stomach. “Oh my god—what was that? Jeez, it’s like you’ve never felt the touch of a woman before.”

His glare was pure murder.

“Shut up, you little shit,” he grumbled, still rubbing at his cheek as if he could scrub the heat off. “You’re lucky I didn’t blast you on the spot for that.”

“Oh, lucky me,” she shot back, grinning. 

Once the last of her giggles died down, she bumped his shoulder lightly, and for once, he didn’t flinch away. “Relax. I just wanted to thank you. It was completely platonic.”

His eyes narrowed, instantly suspicious, but he let it go.

“Weird way of showing it.”

Silence settled between them, thick like the lingering smoke from the fireworks. Bakugo barely spared her a glance, crossing his arms as he leaned back against the railing.

“Hey, Bakugo-san,” yn started, her voice quiet. “Can I… tell you something?”

“Tch. Ain’t you already talkin’?” he shot back, the words coming out more reflexively than anything.

To his surprise, she chuckled, shaking her head. But then she fell silent again, her gaze fixed on the fireworks. A bad feeling twisted in his gut. He recognized that hesitation. She was holding something in, debating whether to say it at all. And for some damn reason, he found himself actually waiting for her to speak instead of shutting the conversation down.

Just as he turned to snap at her to hurry it up, she finally spoke.

“Back then… I messed up.”

The words were soft, but the weight behind them was crushing. Bakugo’s sharp eyes flicked to her face, catching the small, melancholic smile tugging at her lips.

“My quirk lets me store an imprint of someone’s state at a specific moment and restore it later,” she continued. “At first, I thought it was just a healing quirk. I could only revert physical conditions, so it made sense. But then it mutated. It became more than just that. And I realized I could revert… other things. Important things—memories, growth, even a quirk’s natural evolution.”

Bakugo stiffened slightly. He hadn’t expected that. He suspected her quirk was a big deal, but this was something else.

Yn sucked in a shaky breath, clasping her hands like she was trying to hold herself together.

“My friend back then… she was bullied.” Her voice wavered, but she pushed forward. “I used my quirk on her constantly to heal her bruises. She didn’t want her parents to find out. But one day, some girls—” She swallowed hard, her breath hitching. “They shoved her into the street, and a car—”

She clamped a hand over her mouth, but a sob still broke through.

Bakugo’s chest tightened. He hated this. Seeing people cry, not knowing what the hell to do about it. His hand twitched, hesitating mid-air before curling into a fist. Would it be stupid if he—? No. He wasn’t the type to offer a shoulder or say empty words like ‘it’s okay.’ He never had been.

But damn it, seeing her like this made him feel useless.

She took a moment, fighting for control. When she finally spoke again, her head was lowered, her tears dripping onto her lap.

“I tried to save her,” she whispered, voice barely holding it together. “I reversed her body… but that’s all I imprinted. Her abilities, her memories… all of it was gone. She was just a hollow shell. A body with no soul.”

Bakugo’s jaw clenched. Shit.

“When the doctors checked, they confirmed it. Her mind was just… gone. Her parents were furious. And I—I understood why. I didn’t save her. I erased her. Their daughter was as good as dead because of me.”

His gut twisted uncomfortably. He wasn’t good at this emotional stuff, but understood guilt. He knew what it was like to carry the weight of your own screw-ups like a chain around your neck.

“I never went outside again after that,” yn admitted, letting out a bitter laugh. “I was too scared of what I might do. But that just made things worse. Once people found out about my quirk, villains started coming after me. They don’t see me as a person. Just a weapon. Someone who can create immortal fighters for them.”

She wiped her tears quickly, sniffling. Despite everything she had just said, she smiled.

“But then, I met All Might.” Her voice softened, her tone carrying hope. “With his injury from All For One, he asked me to use my quirk on him sometimes, just to stop the aftereffects from worsening. I was terrified. I mean, messing up with him could cost everything. But… he reassured me. Told me that no matter what I did, he wasn’t going to be the same anyway. That I wasn’t making things worse. I was just giving him a chance to keep going.”

Of course it was All Might. That damn old man had a way of getting people to believe in themselves, even when they were at their lowest.

“And it worked,” yn continued, looking down at her hands. “Again and again, I kept practicing on him. I still don’t have full control, but I understand it more now. Still… I’m afraid.” She stared at her palm, opening and closing it as if her power could slip through her fingers at any moment. “All Might says I should gain courage and use it for good. But what if I mess up again? What if I ruin someone else’s life?”

She let out a shaky breath. “I just… can’t do that again.”

Bakugo remembered that feeling. The one that ate at your gut, made you think you were better off staying away from everyone.

After Kamino, after All Might lost his power—he’d thought the same thing. That it was his fault. That maybe, if he just disappeared, people would be safer.

But he’d been wrong. Just like she was.

Bakugo exhaled sharply, rubbing the back of his neck. Then, after a beat, he muttered, “Tch. Ain’t like you’re the only one who’s ever screwed up.”

Yn blinked, glancing at him.

“You think you’re the only one who knows what it’s like to mess up?” His voice was gruff, but his words weren’t harsh. “To feel like no matter what you do, you’re just gonna make shit worse?”

He scoffed, shaking his head. “And what—sitting in a damn mansion forever is supposed to fix that? You think you’re just gonna wake up one day and suddenly not be afraid? That ain’t how it works, princess.”

Yn stared at him, eyes wide.

“You’re scared? Fine. So what?” He finally looked at her then, meeting her gaze head-on. “Be scared. But do it anyway. That’s the only way you’re ever gonna figure out what you can really do.”

She inhaled sharply, eyes shimmering under the glow of the fireworks.

Bakugo turned away, stuffing his hands in his pockets. Damn it. He wasn’t sure why he was saying all this shit now. Maybe because he saw a little of himself in her. Maybe he didn’t want to see someone else make the same mistakes he almost did.

A soft chuckle broke the silence.

“You… really suck at cheering people up,” yn said, her voice light with amusement.

Bakugo scowled. He parted his lips, ready to fire back with some sharp retort, when… he looked at her.

Her eyes were bright, the corners crinkling with warmth. The wind picked up slightly, brushing her hair back as if the moment itself was conspiring to make it more dramatic. And just as a white firework exploded above, illuminating her face, she smiled.

Really smiled.

“But thank you, Bakugo-san.”

His breath hitched. Shit.

Bakugo tore his gaze away, feeling his ears heat up. “D-Don’t mention it,” he grumbled, forcing his tone back to normal. “I just told the truth. You’ve got a quirk that could save lives, so start believing it can, idiot.”

She hummed, hugging her arms to herself. “Yeah, yeah. But still, I… needed to hear that.”

Silence fell between them again, but this time, there was something different about it. It wasn’t uncomfortable. It was charged.

Bakugo kept his eyes forward, but he could feel her staring at him. He clenched his jaw, resisting the urge to glance her way.

Then she moved.

Oh, no.

She stepped into his line of sight. He dodged it. 

She stepped in again. 

He dodged again.

Yn giggled. This was bad.

“You know what? I changed my mind,” she said, her voice turning playful. Then, before he could react, she latched onto his arm.

Bakugo tensed.

“The kiss earlier?” she said, grinning up at him. “Definitely wasn’t platonic.”

His brain short-circuited. Did she just—

His head snapped toward her, ready to yell, but that was a huge mistake. Her grin made his stomach twist. Shit, she was playing with him.

“The fuck!?” He stumbled back a step, yanking his arm free. “What kinda psycho shit—stop joking about that! It’s not funny!”

“I’m not joking though.”

“Yeah, and I’m a dumbass who’d actually believe that.”

Yn pouted. Fuck. That was actually cute.

“Look,” Bakugo huffed. “I ain’t getting with anyone, least of all you, you crazy bitch.” His tone was harsh, but the slight crack in his voice betrayed his flustered state.

“Eh? Why not?” yn pressed, unfazed. “You’ve got a pretty girl throwing herself at you. What’s not to love?”

Bakugo scoffed, the comeback rolling off his tongue automatically. “Pretty psychotic maybe. You’ve definitely got a screw loose from being stuck in that damn house.”

Yn threw her head back laughing, finally letting go of his arm. “Fine, fine.” But the glint in her eyes told him she wasn’t done. “But no matter what you say, I’m not giving up.”

“Tch. You’re actually insane.”

She took a step closer, standing on her tiptoes.

Bakugo stiffened. What now?

Then, she leaned in and whispered, “I’ll make you fall for me one way or another… darling. Oh, or would ‘dear’ be better?”

A shiver shot down his spine.

And his heart fucking betrayed him.

His body froze for a fraction of a second before his instincts kicked back in. He pulled himself away, scowling hard enough to burn holes in the ground.

“You’re fucking delusional,” he growled, rubbing the back of his neck aggressively. His skin felt hot. Why the hell was it so hot all of a sudden? “I��ll never fall for you, brat. Now, drop it before I blow your damn face off for real.”

“Okay, okay, I’ll drop it,” yn chuckled, hands up in surrender. But her shit-eating grin remained.

Bakugo narrowed his eyes. There was a catch.

“Only if… you say yes to a different request.”

His eye twitched. Knew it.

“I swear, if this is—”

“It’s completely safe and innocent. Trust me.”

Bakugo had a hard time believing that. “What?” he grumbled anyway.

Yn beamed, pulling out her phone and holding it up to him. “Be my friend?”

Bakugo stared at the glowing screen like she’d just asked him to detonate himself. “The hell kinda dumbass request is that?” he muttered, scowling.

Yn didn’t waver, still holding her phone up expectantly. “It’s not dumb. You’re my bodyguard, and I do like you, sure, but that doesn’t mean we can’t be friends too.” She tilted her head, her voice turning lighthearted. “Besides, it’s not like you have many, right?”

Bakugo clicked his tongue. “Tch. I’ve got friends.”

“Oh yeah?” yn grinned. “Name five.”

His scowl deepened. “Why the hell should I?”

“Because I wanna know if I should feel honored or worried that I might be the first.”

“Tch. Like I’d ever—” He cut himself off, suddenly feeling ridiculous for even engaging in this conversation.

With an annoyed grunt, he snatched the phone from her hand and swiftly typed in his number. He didn’t overthink it—just did it fast enough so that he wouldn’t have time to second-guess himself. Then, just as quickly, he shoved the phone back at her.

“There. Happy now?”

Yn’s eyes flickered with surprise before they softened. “Yeah,” she said quietly, looking down at the screen. “I am.”

For some stupid, inexplicable reason, something about that made his chest feel… weird. Uncomfortable. Like he had just agreed to something way bigger than just exchanging numbers.

He exhaled sharply, rolling his shoulders. “All right, enough of this crap. We’re going back.”

Yn blinked, snapping out of her amusement. “Huh? Already?”

“Yeah, already. We were never supposed to be out here in the first place,” he grumbled. “I’m not about to let you get kidnapped or some shit just ‘cause we snuck out for some damn fireworks.”

She pouted but didn’t argue. Instead, she slipped her phone into her pocket and took a few steps forward, spinning on her heel to face him with a teasing smile. “So you’re worried about me?”

Bakugou groaned. He can just never win against her, can he?

The job had ended, but yn and Bakugo kept in touch.

She made sure of it.

Every day, she texted Bakugo—sometimes about her day, sometimes asking about his, but mostly, she sent flirty messages just to mess with him. He never responded to those. Left on read every single time.

But yn knew better–it got to him.

That was why she never stopped.

She sent gifts, too. They were little things at first, just excuses to make him think of her. Then came the more… extravagant gestures. A top-tier protein set, the most high-end grenade-themed gloves she could get her hands on, oh, and on Valentine’s Day? A whole field of roses delivered straight to the doorstep of his dorm.

It wasn’t just to mess with him. It was also to make sure no other girl got any ideas.

This had been their dynamic for a year. A ridiculous, one-sided chase that she wasn’t planning to keep one-sided for much longer.

“Thank you again, Principal Nezu.” She bowed politely before stepping out of the office. The moment the door slid shut behind her, she bolted.

It was almost lunchtime, meaning classes were about to end. Meaning she was running out of time.

She flew down the stairs, skidding into a turn so sharp she nearly crashed into someone. But she didn’t slow down. She didn’t need to. She already knew exactly where she was going.

She had memorized every inch of U.A., studied it down to the last corner. She’d be walking these halls soon enough, starting next week. But really, all that preparation? It was for this exact moment.

The bell rang. Classroom doors slid open. Students flooded the halls.

And then… There!

A head of spiky blonde hair emerged from the crowd, moving in the exact direction she had predicted. Just like clockwork.

Her pulse kicked up. A grin tugged on her lips.

With quick, eager steps, she closed the distance, weaving effortlessly through the students until she was right behind him.

Then she jumped, hands shooting out to cover his eyes.

Woah. He got taller.

“Guess who?”

update: I made snippets for this! check it out

[foldingfittedsheets]

The Daisy story has made me realize I have a piece of advice for my younger followers. When we are in school, those of us who are different, we are often bullied. People are mean to us because of who we are. We patch over those wounds as we go out into the world with our scars.

But when you enter college, the workforce, the military, a food service job, whatever, people are going to be mean to you for an entirely different reason. Not because of who you are but because of what you are. And what you will be is new. New to the team, new to the job.

When you are new to an assimilated group of people working towards a common goal you represent a liability. You are by default not pulling your weight and everyone knows it. You don’t know the rules and the rhythms.

So humans as a collective developed hazing. Across time and cultures people decided to be dicks to newcomers. It’s usually petty suffering inflicted because the core group wants to see what you’re made of. How you’ll handle mishaps and adversity. They need to know if you’re someone they can count on and the fastest way to do that is through aggression.

The biggest mistake you can make in that situation is to automatically assume they’re being mean because of who you are. They might be! People are shitty sometimes! But it’s worth reflection because it’s much more likely that it’s just generalized spite trying to reveal your character. I’m not saying bullying doesn’t happen in work places or that you should put up with people being a dick to you but this is just a phenomena I’ve seen over and over. I’ve been on the receiving end of this in a ton of jobs.

We didn’t dislike Daisy as a person when we pulled our prank. We disliked that we couldn’t count on her. We got yelled at for pizzas that she fucked up, we got yelled at when she was going too slow. We as a team bore the brunt of her ineptitude and so we as a team tried to vent it back to her. Daisy then showed us what she was made of.

What she was made of was just sunshine and buttercups and amazing good temper. We understood then that she needed tasks that weren’t as fast paced but rather customer facing because her positive attitude made up for her lack of hustle.

In my workplace experience food service will almost always haze, retail only sometimes, sales very seldom.