#and different writing practise to my usual!

[reidsworld]

A Different Kind of Training

Summary: When sparring with Logan turns into something more.

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Fem!Mutant!Reader

Category: Smut

Content Warnings: sparring, cursing, mentions of alcohol, teasing, flirting, kissing, making out, tit sucking, fingering, heavy petting, p in v, rough sex, unprotected sex (wrap it b4 u tap it), creampie, knife play? (the claws come out), use of Y/N, pet names (baby, bub, darlin’) — you are responsible for the content you consume, if you are not comfortable with any of these warnings or are a minor, DNI!!

Word Count: 2.8k

Mars speaks… Two fics in one day? What can I say, I’m a sucker for writing (and Logan Howlett). I originally wasn’t gonna write smut for this but I locked in and nearly 1.4k words of smut later, I’m happy with how it turned out! I was imagining Logan in X-Men but this gif is too hot not to use.

Masterlist

The sun was setting over Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters, casting a warm, golden light through the large windows of the gym. The usual buzz of activity had quieted down, leaving you alone to get in some extra training. The silence was almost calming, a rare moment of peace after everything that had happened over the past few days.

You were lost in your thoughts, practising your kicks against a heavy bag, when the door creaked open. Without needing to look, you knew who it was. There was only one person who could move so silently yet make his presence known so effortlessly.

“Looks like someone’s been working hard,” Logan’s gruff voice came from behind you, a teasing edge to it. You could practically hear the smirk in his tone.

You turned, arching an eyebrow as you met his gaze. “Just trying to stay sharp. Didn’t expect you to drop in. Thought you’d be nursing a beer somewhere.”

He shrugged, leaning casually against the doorframe, arms crossed over his broad chest. “Beer can wait. Figured you could use some real training instead of beating up that bag.”

You couldn’t help but grin. “Oh, so you’re volunteering to be my punching bag?”

Logan pushed off the wall and strolled toward you, his movements fluid and controlled. There was always something captivating about the way he moved—like a predator, always aware of his surroundings, always ready to strike.

“Something like that,” he said, his voice low as he came to a stop a few feet from you. “If you think you can handle it, bub.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t hide the smile that tugged at your lips. “Big words, Wolverine. Hope you can back them up.”

He chuckled, the sound deep and rough, sending a shiver down your spine. “Guess we’ll find out.”

The session began as it always did—circling each other, testing the waters with light jabs and quick footwork. But there was an underlying tension tonight, more than usual. Maybe it was the way Logan’s eyes kept straying to your lips, or the way your heart raced every time he got close.

“You’re getting slow, old man,” you teased as you dodged a punch and spun away, landing a light tap on his shoulder.

Logan’s lips curled into a smirk. “And you’re getting cocky. Might have to teach you a lesson.”

His words hung in the air between you, and for a moment, you both just stood there, staring at each other. Then, with a sudden burst of energy, you both lunged forward, fists flying in a blur of motion.

The sparring intensified, the lighthearted banter replaced by focused determination. But even as you fought, there was a spark of playfulness, a dance of words and movements that only the two of you shared.

“Is that all you’ve got, bub?” Logan grunted as he blocked a kick and spun you around, his grip on your arm firm but not painful.

You twisted out of his hold, a sly smile on your lips. “Wouldn’t want to hurt your ego too much, Wolvie.”

His laughter was low and genuine, and it made something warm unfurl in your chest. Logan was a hard man, but moments like these—when he let his guard down, even just a little—made you feel like you were seeing the real him. The one beneath all the gruff exterior and adamantium claws.

As the session continued, you found yourself pushing harder, testing his limits just as much as your own. Each time he got close, you felt the heat of his body, the brush of his skin against yours, and it was becoming harder to focus on the fight and not on how much you wanted him.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of back-and-forth, you saw your opening. With a quick feint, you managed to sweep Logan’s legs out from under him, sending him crashing to the mat with a surprised grunt.

You didn’t waste a second, straddling him and pinning him down with a triumphant grin. “Looks like I’ve got you.”

Logan looked up at you, his eyes dark and intense, but there was a hint of amusement in his gaze. “Seems so. What’s your plan now, darlin’?”

The way he said “darlin’” sent a jolt through you, and suddenly the playful atmosphere shifted into something heavier, more charged. You leaned in closer, your faces just inches apart, your breath mingling with his.

“Maybe I’ll make you beg for mercy,” you whispered, your voice low and teasing.

Logan’s lips curled into a slow, wicked grin, his hands coming up to rest on your hips. “Or maybe I’ll turn the tables on you.”

The challenge in his voice was clear, and you felt your pulse quicken in response. But before you could think of a retort, Logan’s grip tightened, and with a swift, effortless movement, he flipped you over, reversing your positions so that he was the one hovering over you.

“Gotcha,” he murmured, his voice rough and gravelly, but his eyes were soft as they searched your face. He wasn’t pinning you down, not really—there was still room for you to escape, but neither of you made a move to do so.

The tension between you was palpable now, crackling in the air like electricity. Logan’s gaze flicked to your lips, then back to your eyes, as if asking permission. You swallowed hard, your heart pounding in your chest, but you gave a small nod, unable to find your voice.

That was all the encouragement Logan needed. He leaned down, capturing your lips in a kiss that was as fierce as it was gentle. It was like everything that had been building between you two—the banter, the flirting, the unspoken tension—was pouring out into that one kiss.

You kissed him back just as fiercely, your hands threading through his hair, pulling him closer. The rest of the world seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you, lost in each other.

When you finally pulled apart, both of you were breathing heavily, your foreheads resting against each other’s. Logan’s eyes were still closed, his grip on your hip gentle but firm as if he didn’t want to let you go, while his other hand was on the floor, positioned next to your head.

He leaned down to lay passionate but gentle kisses against your neck.

You bit your lip, suppressing the almost vile moan that was on the tip of your tongue, feeling the warmth of his breath against your skin. “I’ve been waiting for you to make the first move.”

Logan chuckled, raising his head to look at you. “Guess I’m not as patient as I thought.”

You laughed softly, your fingers tracing the lines of his face. “Guess not.”

The mood between you had shifted, the playful teasing giving way to something deeper, something more intimate. You felt a connection with Logan that you hadn’t allowed yourself to fully acknowledge before, and now that it was out in the open, it felt right.

“So, what now?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Logan’s eyes darkened with a new intensity, his lips brushing against your ear as he spoke. “How about we take this workout somewhere more private? I’ve got a few ideas on how to… optimise our training.”

A shiver ran down your spine at the suggestive tone in his voice. “Lead the way,” you murmured, your heart pounding with anticipation.

Logan smirked, pulling back just enough to help you to your feet. But before you could move, he captured your lips in another heated kiss, this one more urgent, more demanding. It left you breathless, your knees weak as you clung to him for support.

When he finally released you, there was a hunger in his eyes that mirrored your own. Without another word, he took your hand and led you out of the gym, his pace quick and determined. The cool night air hit your skin as you stepped outside, but you barely noticed, too focused on the man beside you.

Logan’s room was dimly lit, the soft glow of a bedside lamp casting long shadows on the walls. The air was filled with a quiet intensity as you both entered, the door closing behind you with a soft click.

Logan’s gaze was fixed on you, his eyes dark with an unspoken promise. He stepped closer, his rough hands finding your waist, pulling you gently towards him. The world outside seemed to fade away as you stood there, the anticipation crackling between you.

You looked up at him, your heart racing, as his hands slid up your back, his touch both firm and tender. “So, this is your idea of a private training session?” you teased, your voice breathless.

Logan’s lips curled into a smirk as he leaned in, his breath warm against your ear. “Just thought we could continue our workout in a more…personal setting.”

Before you could respond, Logan’s lips were on yours, his kiss fierce and hungry. The sudden intensity took your breath away, but you melted into it, your hands finding their way to his shoulders, gripping him as you kissed him back with equal fervour.

His hands roamed your back, pulling you closer as if he wanted to absorb every inch of you. The kiss deepened, becoming more urgent as you both lost yourselves in the sensation. The roughness of his hands contrasted with the softness of your skin, creating a delicious tension that only heightened the experience.

Logan’s lips were warm and insistent, moving with a rhythm that made your pulse quicken. He gently pushed you against the wall, his body pressing against yours, the heat and strength of him undeniable. You responded eagerly, your fingers tangling in his hair as you pulled him closer, your lips moving in perfect harmony with his.

The kiss was a dance of passion and exploration, each touch and caress filled with a mix of tenderness and desire. Logan’s hands slid down to your hips, his grip strong and possessive as he pressed you closer against him. You could feel the heat of his body, the hardness of his muscles, and it only made you want him more.

“Jump,” Logan said, though it sounded more like a grunt than actual words. As you jump, his arms catch you, holding you by both of your legs as your hands threaded through his hair. You could feel him straining against his pants while he walked you over to the bed. You looked up at him with a smirk from where he tossed you on the bed. You slowly begin to undress, leaving you bare in front of him with the exception of your bra and panties.

“Stunning,” He muttered under his breath as he stared at you in a trance. His hand travelled down to his aching bulge, palming himself at the sight of you.

“Just gonna stand there and stare or are ya gonna do something, Wolvie.”

He let out an almost animalistic growl as he climbed on top of you, capturing your lips with his. His rough hands hands felt smooth against your skin as they travelled across your body. He pulls away from you, looking at his hands as his claws come out. He gently slides a claw under your bra, snapping it, freeing your breasts.

His claws retract and discard the bra across the room. His head quickly dives down to your tits, mouth latching onto one of your hard nipples as his hand kneads at the neglected breast. A yelp escapes your lips as he gently bites down on your nipple.

Your hands twine themselves in his hard, tugging gently as he moves his attention to your other breast. As he focuses on your breast, he shifts so that his elbow is holding him up while playing with your breast. His free hand slides down your body, slipping into your panties.

His fingers brush over your clit, making you let out a very solicited moan. His fingers run up your slit, making him groan.

“Fuck, you're already so wet and I’ve barely done anything yet, bub,” you let out an almost pathetic whimper in response. You feel him rut against your leg, attempting to get some much-needed relief. One of your hands leaves his hair and moves to push off his pants before planning him through his underwear, earning a groan from his lips.

You gasp as you feel one of his thick fingers enter you, pumping and curling in and out. It feels so good, all you can do is moan out his name. Looking into your eyes, he pulls you into a kiss as another finger slips into you. He swallows your moan with his mouth.

“Logan, ‘m so close baby,” you moan into his lips before whimpering at the loss of contact as his hand pulls your of you.

“Need to be inside you, want you to cum around my cock, darlin’” he says making you nod quickly, pulling your hand away from his groin.

He stands up, pulling off his boxers. As his cock frees, it slaps against his stomach and you almost whimper at the sheer size of it. His claws slowly extend out of his fist. He crawls back on top of you before using one of his claws to gently rip off your panties.

He positions himself at your entrance and looks up at you for approval.

“Please Logan just fuck me already.”

Gently and slowly, he pushes himself inside of you. His head falls back at the feeling of you around him. You wince at the slight sting from the size of him. He slows down and looks at you. You nod at him and moan as he bottoms out.

The two of you stay still for a minute as you adjust to him.

“Ok, you can move now, Lo.”

“How d’ya want it darlin’?” his raspy voice sounds out, making you even wetter.

“Rough baby, I thought this was supposed to be private training not–,” you tease him but are quickly cut off by your own moan as he roughly pulls out to the tip before slamming back in. His hands grip your legs, pulling them over his shoulder before moving to tightly grip the pillows next to your head. Your arms move up my your head, loosely wrapping around his.

The room is filled with loud moans and grunts as he fucks you. One of his hands moves down to circle your clit, making you cry out at the feeling. He drops one of your legs off his shoulder, changing the angle slightly.

“Oh fuck, right there!” you scream out as he pistons into your sweet spot. He throws his head back with a loud growl as your pussy clenches around him.

“Holy shit bub, so fuckin’ tight, wrapping around me just right.”

You hear the loud noise of his claws right next to your head as they extend into the bed. He uses them to give him more leverage as he fucks you harder, making you arch your back.

“‘M so close baby,” you moan into his ear as his head drops to your neck.

He doesn’t give up his relentless pace as he brings you closer to your orgasm. The sounds of his feral grunts in your ear throw you over the mess, making you scream as your insides tighten and you cum around his cock.

“Almost there,” he says as his thrusts become sloppier and his dick twitches inside of you.

“Where d’ya want it?”

“Inside, please,” you say, desperately.

Logan moves to kiss your tender lips roughly as he cums in you with a loud groan. His thrusts slow down before he comes to a stop. He drops on top of you with heavy breaths as you both lie there in silence.

Slowly pulling out of you, Logan rolls onto his back next to you before you both turn your heads to look at each other. He grins at your fucked-out expression.

“That was even better than I imagined,” he admits.

“Same,” you agree as you lean over to kiss him, smiling against his lips and muttering as you pull away,

“This was definitely a different kind of training, but I think that I still need a little more work on my form, think ya could help?”

Mars speaks... (again) I don't think I've ever locked in more than I did for writing the smut part of this. Any feedback is greatly appreciated🫶

[reiderwriter]

So obviously Spencer is iconic for his wide range of haircuts over the show, and I have this vision of a Spencer x hairdresser fic where he goes to the same hairdresser all the time because he likes the routine and it’s what he’s used to. So like they’re low-key friends bc he’s been her client so long, but then she notices he can’t come as usual and he tells her it’s because he’s always away or working late. So because they’re close she gives him private late appointments after she closes bc they’re more accessible for him, and then they’re always together late at night, and eventually they fall for each other!! And like she loves his curls and cringed when he wanted it cut short but loves it regardless AHH I JUST LOVE IT. Bonus points if Spencer gets to recommend his hairdresser girlfriend to his teammates just to brag about the fact he has a hot girlfriend lmao. I get it’s kinda long lol, if it’s too long a premise then no worries, just sharing it is nice :)

A/N: Hi! I love the idea of hair stylist reader, so I had a lot of fun writing this~♡ Thank you for your request, I hope you enjoy it!

W/C: 2.1k

Warnings: implied Autistic Reid, brief mentions of sensory issues, writer does not care for the shows Canon hair continuity and does basically whatever she wants.

Masterlist

The first time you'd met Spencer Reid, you hadn't been able to cut his hair. Which was a damn shame because it really did need cutting. 

Sweeping up the floors of the hair salon you worked at, you had noticed the man lingering outside, wringing his hands together and pushing them awkwardly through his hair, approaching and retreating every few seconds. 

You watched him through the mirrors, and let him dance around like that for five minutes before deciding that the evening breeze would be a boon during the hot summer night that was about to set in on you. 

Opening the salon door, you stepped outside and soaked in the fresh air before turning to the now frozen, slightly awkward man. 

“Can I help you?” You tried to put a welcoming smile on your face, but the salon was past closing and empty beside you. You should've been heading home by now, but something in the man's posture had you dawdling.

“The barber shop down the road closed down,” he said quickly, as if the words were practised on his to guess moments before. 

“Yes, that's true. It's been six months now.”

“Six months?” he squeaked out, running a hand through his hair as he turned inwards. 

“Do you… need a haircut?” 

“Yes. Yes, are there any other barber shops in the area?” 

You rolled your eyes and walked back into the salon, picking up a robe and a shoulder cover and spinning around the closest chair to welcome him. 

“Well, are you coming in?” 

“But you're closed. Your sign says you're closed.” 

“And I'm still here, aren't I?” 

He didn't argue any further and hesitantly stepped into the salon. 

You helped him out of his bag and put it away before helping him into the robe and shoulder pad. 

He awkwardly stood around as you prepared your scissors and station again, switching on the mirror light so you could fully see his face and hair. 

And damn was he attractive. As you smoothed his hair out of his face, you were met with warm brown eyes, open and anxious, like a deer caught in headlights. Or, more accurately, a dear caught in a hair salon. 

You had to blink and look away as you remembered what you were about, standing up and leading him over to the sink. 

“I'm… I'm a little bit sensitive about my hair,” he admitted quite meekly as you tested the temperature of the water. 

“Okay. Is there anything specific?” 

He sat himself in the chair but didn't lower his head to the bowl, so you waited. 

After a minute or two, he gently lowered his head to the bowl, and you helped his progress, making sure he was comfortably settled. He didn't speak, just let his shoulders relax and closed his eyes as you turned the water on his locks. 

You enjoyed the simple repetitions of your job. Everyone's hair was different, that was true, but there were really only so many ways to wash hair. 

You rinsed his hair thoroughly, keeping the water away from his face and ears with a face guard before beginning to lather it up. 

For a man who hadn't seen the inside of a salon in six months and likely a hairbrush in the same length of time, his hair was healthy. 

De-tangling as you went, you ran your hands through the lengths of his hair, taking note of how it fell, which parts were healthy, and which had developed split ends. Then you began massaging his head, working the shampoo into his roots, making sure his scalp was free from any possible dirt or dry skin. 

This was the best part of the haircut for you, and you knew your regular clients enjoyed it greatly as well. Which is why you probably shouldn't have been too surprised when the man fell asleep. 

It took you a few minutes to realize that was what happened, the face guard obscuring his face from your vision. When you squeezed the water from his hair, patted it dry, and twisted it into a towel so the water wouldn't run down his back, you had no clue that he was away with the fairies. 

It wasn't until you asked him to stand, and he didn't even move that you moved around the sink and lifted the face guard. 

If he seemed anxious awake, it had melted away now. He looked younger asleep, more calm and confident somehow. His eyelashes were long, a fact you only noticed when you leaned in to get a better look at him. 

It was your hand unconsciously tracing a hand along his jaw that woke him back up, and for a second, you just stared at each other, faces inches apart. 

“I'm.. I'm so sorry, I should go. Thank you for… I should go,” he said hurriedly, pulling the robes and towels off and snatching his bag up, running out the door. 

“Wait, your hair,” you called after him, but he was gone. 

And he hadn't paid. 

It took a week for you to collect the payment, though you couldn't care less about the money anyway. 

But a week thinking about the man's delicate features, his shy smile and stutter, and you were very distracted. 

Thinking about him had become your full-time job, as much as cutting hair had, and you'd had a few close encounters with the scissors when you were lost in thought. 

You'd been thinking up back stories for the man ranging from the romantic to the obscure to the downright realistic. So, a week later, you found yourself behind on work and needing to stay late, just as he stepped into the shop a second time. 

“Hello?” You shouted from the backroom, hearing the doorbell jingle as it opened. “We're actually closed right now, so- oh.” 

He stood awkwardly in the door, his face already flushed slightly. 

“Hi.” 

“Hi,” you said, trying to stop the grin spreading across your face. You didn't want to scare him off a second time. 

“Last time, I… kinda ran away. I was… I'm not the best with-” 

“With haircuts?” 

“With change.” You both nodded at that, awkwardly staring at each other. 

“So…?” You lead, trying to encourage him to introduce himself, hoping he would reveal something you didn't already know. 

“You're closed again, but could you cut my hair?” He asked, pushing the long locks back on his head as he stood a little taller. 

“It would be my pleasure…” you trailed off as a question, needing to know his name. 

“Spencer. Spencer Reid. Doctor… just Spencer is fine if you'd prefer.” 

“I'm Y/N. Come and take a seat.” 

You slid him into the robes once again and got through a hair wash without any accidental naps this time. Though you did notice that he seemed to be enjoying it just as much. 

His sighs left you feeling hot, your heart beating as you focused on his hair to draw your gaze from his lips. 

When he was back I'm front of the mirror, he again looked like a scared cat that had been backed into the corner. 

“So, what'll it be, Spencer?” You asked cheerily, combing your hand through his locks to detangle them. 

“Hmm? Oh, a water would be nice.” 

“For your hair, Spencer. What haircut do you want?” 

“Oh! Oh, um, just a…just a haircut.” 

Your face scrunched up in confusion as he doubled down. 

“But what kind of haircut?” 

“What kind?” 

You pulled away from his chair for a minute and went to grab a cut reference book. 

“Okay, so we've got undercuts, or trims, I can do pompadour or bowl cut or-” 

You looked at Spencer's face again and saw that he looked more than confused. 

“How about I just cut your hair and after you tell me if you like it or not?” 

He nodded and gave you a weak smile as you grabbed your scissors. 

Twenty minutes of silence later, and you felt Spencer exhale in relief as you dusted off the back of his neck and pulled the robes off of his clothes. 

You'd gone for a shorter cut, but his curly hair had such a nice natural texture that you left it a bit longer on top. Without his hair in his face, his jawline was sharper, his eyes brighter, and you were somehow more infatuated. 

He stood up shyly and you smiled at how good he looked. 

“Okay, perfect! Let me just-” You lifted your hand and smoothed out some of his hair, picking up some strands and pushing them back and forth until it was just right. 

He caught your hand just as you were about to pull away, and you suddenly realized how close he was. Or more accurately how close you had gotten. It was like you were breathing the same air. 

“D-Do you like it?” You asked, voice small and high as it battled your heartbeat to be heard. 

“Yeah. I like it. It looks… it looks like a haircut.” 

You giggled as his grip became gentler, and your hand fell down to your side, brushing his chest gently as it descended. 

“How much do I owe you?” He asked, and you led him over to the register to complete the payment. 

“Thank you,” he said as he grabbed his bags to head out the door. 

“Just doing my job. I'll see you in six weeks,” you said, waving him off. 

“What for?” He asked, voice confused but bright. He sounded almost hopeful. 

“For your next haircut, Spencer.” 

He smiled and waved back as he walked back into the dark and disappeared down the street. 

No one could ever accuse Spencer Reid of being forgetful, and six weeks later, he was back in your chair. 

Except he didn't arrive at 11pm this time, but instead 11am. 

The other customers and stylists gawked at the man as he walked in, and you thanked the gods that your seat was free as he met your eyes. 

“Hi.” 

“Spencer! You're back.” 

He nodded shyly, head hanging a little as he ignored the many looks from the women in the room and the eruption of whispers and loud glances in his direction. 

“It's been six weeks. You said that's when I'd need another haircut.” 

You laughed a little as you pulled the robe around him. 

“You know, I say that every time, but most people ignore me. I love a man who can follow directions.” 

The eruption of red on his cheeks left you feeling suddenly tongue tied, and you carefully redirected the conversation back to the task at hand. 

“Same again, Doc?” You asked, readying your spray bottle and supplies. 

“Actually, could we, ah, go shorter this time?” Hesmiled sheepishly and watched as you ran your fingers through his tangled hair. 

“My boss, last time, said I looked like I joined a boyband, so…” 

“Your boss at the hospital?” You asked, clinging to every detail you could get from him. 

“The hospital?” 

“You said you were a Doctor, do you work in a lab instead or-”

“Oh. No, I work at the FBI. I'm not a medical doctor, I have a PhD. I have three, Chemistry, Engineering, and Mathematics.” 

You whistled. “Impressive. You can't be older than 30.” 

“I'm 29.” He said, smiling at you in the mirror, and you smiled back, hands still running through his hair. 

“So, no boy band haircuts, okay. For what it's worth, though, you look totally hot.” 

The words cut the conversation short, and you tried your best to take the words back as you went off to the sides to grab your sheers. 

Half an hour later, and you could swear that half the salon had given up pretending to be doing their jobs and were just awkwardly ogling the man. If the shorter “boyband” hair was good, the undercut you'd done for him was even better. 

You turned him around to get a closer look, using the excuse of making sure his hair was symmetrical enough to stare at him some more as you got closer to finishing. 

“Okay,” you said with a sad sigh. “You're all finished, Spencer. Let's get you rung up.” 

He nodded and followed you quickly, pulling out his wallet as he paid quietly. 

“Okay. And I'll see you tomorrow,” you said, as he picked up his bags to leave. 

“Tomorrow? I thought you said it was six weeks between haircuts.” 

“It is. But it's also my day off tomorrow, so I was wondering if you'd like to have dinner. With me.” 

He blinked at you once. Then twice, and another time before smiling and looking away. 

“Okay. See you tomorrow, Y/N.” 

He ran a hand through his hair and nearly walked into the door he was trying to walk through, but your heart still fluttered as you waved him out. 

[222col]

girl you're so fucking talented 😩 i don't know if you write sub!Art but i seriously can't stop thinking about the idea of meeting Art's friends and intentionally making boyfriend sub!Art jealous by laughing at Art's best friend Patrick's jokes and Art getting so jealous and he looks like he's on the verge of crying because he's so obsessed with you and he gets so jealous when you give your attention to some other guy and when you go back to your shared apartment he starts acting very needy and desperate and all he wants to do is to please you so you won't look at any other guy except him. He's literally begging and all desperate for your validation

thank u sm <3!!!! bestie 100% sub!art is my little baby i luv him (u may enjoy this that i posted yday too if ur a fan of sub!art🫣) 18+

you and art had been dating for a while, recently having moved in together. he relishes the fact that he gets to wake up to your pretty little face every morning. you had met most of art's friends, in passing usually as you meet him after his tennis practise or a quick hello when they pass you in the stands at his matches. he's met all of your girlfriends, joining in on girls night occasionally, sitting in a face mask on the floor in front of where you're sitting on the couch. braiding his hair as you gossip with your girls. "we should go for drinks with your friends sometime this week," you suggest one morning, sitting up in bed, sipping the coffee art made for you. he nuzzles his face into your side, he's been avoiding this from the day he set eyes on you. he just can't stand the thought of you giving any attention to another man that isn't him. "hmm, maybe," he attempts to hide his jealousy, kissing your waist, snaking an arm around you. "i actually already dm'ed patrick and asked him, told him to bring your other friends too," your words are sheepish, you know what you're doing to the poor boy beside you.

he looks up at you, pouting. "you messaged patrick?" he trusts you completely, patrick on the other hand, not so much. your hand strokes his cheek. "baby, it's not like that, i just told him i wanted to meet him and your other friends properly." art's head leans into your hand. still pouting, why did you want to meet patrick? art grumbles, still sulking as he mumbles a 'fine'. the night for drinks comes around quicker than art hoped. you're pulling a pair of jeans over your hips, and placing a white crop top over your body. art doesn't object, as much as he wants to, instead just peppers kisses onto your shoulder. "my beautiful girl," he whispers in between kisses. art does up the buttons to his shirt as you slide your feet into your heels. kissing his lips as you make your way to meet his friends.

art's friends have already claimed a table, the six boys all stand up as you both arrive. art doesn't let go of your hand as you hug and introduce yourself to them all. patrick is last, lifting you up as he hugs you hello, forcing your hand from art's grip. "so so good to finally meet you, can't believe art kept your pretty face from us for so long." patrick winks to his friend as he places you back on the ground. you laugh and sit down in between the two of them. "nice to finally meet you too, patrick." art's already seething, hugging you is one thing, picking you up is another, but calling you pretty right in front of his eyes is a completely different story. "be a good boy and go get your girlfriend a drink, art," patrick teases art. what art wouldn't do to be back at home, between your thighs as you call him a good boy. patrick's arm is resting on the top of the booth behind your head, art can't stand it. "no," art returns, his friends all gain questioning looks. art physically cannot leave you alone with them all, he'd be sick. "fine, weirdo, i'll go get a round in."

patrick knows just how obsessive art can get, yet he's never seen him this bad. scooting out of the booth, patrick states your name, "come tell me what you want to drink, help me carry them back to the table?" you smile and stand up to join patrick at the bar. fuck, this is even worse, art thinks. his friends are trying their best to engage art in conversation, but his eyes are focused purely on you, and patrick. your head swinging back, laughing profusely at whatever patrick just said to you. art's leg is bouncing up and down, his teeth grinding together. it's not until your hand touches patrick's arm that he can feel the tears welling up in his eyes. "art, you good?" one of his friends asks, waving them off and fighting off the tears. you return to the table, helping patrick carry everyone's drinks over. "what was so funny?" he's pouting at you now, an oh so familiar face. "nothing," you take a swig of your drink. "just a story patrick was telling me." you're playing with him now, you can see clearly what you're doing to him. you should feel bad, should, but you love seeing him so desperate for your attention.

the night progresses, more alcohol drank together, a more worked up art. his hand rests on your thigh, reminding you he's there and reminding his friends you're his. you shuffle your body further under the table, art's hand creeping further up your thigh. you look to him, he's desperate. his eyes are dark, still glossy, watching you pay so much attention to patrick. you finally cave. "c'mon then you, take me home." you state to your boyfriend, patrick wolf whistles. you roll your eyes and laugh at him again, art only gritting his teeth and glaring at his friend. art's friends all hug you both goodbye, art can swear he sees patrick's hand start to move towards your ass before you escape his grip. patrick hugs art last, whispering in his ear, "don't fuck this up artie, or i'll take her from you," patrick's smiling, kissing his best friend on the cheek. art knows he's joking, but he knows patrick so well to know that he would, given the chance.

you land on the edge of the bed, removing your shoes with a sigh of relief. art sinks to his knees on the floor in front of you. "your friends are nice, patrick's so funny," you tease him further, throwing your shoes across the room. he holds your feet, pressing kisses to the soles. you continue discussing the night, and your positive opinions of his friends. "please, baby, i need you," art whimpers, peppering your ankles in sloppy kisses. "you need me, huh? how badly, baby boy?" he groans at your words, as you undo your jeans, shimmying them down your body. once they reach your thighs, art pulls them off and throws them behind him. "mmm, so so badly, my cock is sore just thinking about tasting you," he sits up more, his eyes level with your pussy. shuffling closer to him, your knees on either side of his head. slipping your top over your head and throwing it in the direction of your jeans. the lace of your bra and panties is almost see through, your pussy so close to his face, he's almost drooling at the sight. he breathes in deeply. "you smell delicious baby, please let me taste, i wanna show you how good i can be,"

"you've been a jealous little boy, all night art, i'm not sure you deserve it." you grab him by the hair, forcing him to look into your eyes, they're welling up again. "i can't help it," you lean down to him and kiss his pouting lips. "please, let me make it up to you, i need you." he's begging you, you've never seen him this desperate. you let go of his hair, spreading your legs. he immediately moves to push your underwear to the side, your thighs squeezing his head, stopping him in motion. "i never said you could touch." he groans so loudly, "please, i'll do anything, anything you want, just please, please let me taste you." you unclench your thighs, tears are pouring from his eyes now. "you want me so bad you're crying, pathetic little baby." you place your hand on the back of his head, swiftly pushing his face into your pussy. he mumbles, "thank you, thank you, thank you" into your cunt as he moves your underwear aside again.

his tongue plunges straight into you, his nose pressing against your clit. he's moving his head side to side, letting his nose grind against your sweet spot. his laps up every inch of your pussy that he can, moving to focus his tongue on your clit. he knows exactly how to please you, he's spent hours eating you out. his hands grip around your thighs, you lean back on your hands, head flung back as his name escapes your lips. he's looking up at you through his lashes. "such a good boy you are baby" your breath his shaky, one hand moving to his hair. "you taste so good, thank you baby." art mumbles, slipping two of his fingers inside you. you gasp, his moans louder than yours as his hips buck up into the air.

"my pretty little boy, you're so fucking good at that," you can barely contain yourself, he knows your body inside and out. he loves hearing you compliment him, giggling into your pussy. his fingers speed up, placing your feet on his shoulders, deepening the angle his fingers are fucking you. your hand can't keep you sat up anymore as your body falls onto the bed, back arched as art works you closer and closer to orgasm. "fuck- baby boy, i'm so close." your moans growing louder, art only removing his lips to whisper, "i know, princess," his fingers curl up, pushing you over the edge. pulling his hair as you come all over his face. he doesn't stop, not even for a second. "fuck, art, baby i can't," you attempt to pull him away, he won't let you. only smiling up at you, his chin covered in your juices and he places his tongue back on your clit. your head flings back onto the bed, screaming his name now as feel him smiling against you. "oh, fuck- my perfect boy, shit, fuck," you’re screaming profanities as art works you to another orgasm.

the hand he's not using to fuck you with his fingers reaches up your body, groping your boobs as his cock twitches in his pants. "come for your boy again, please baby, i need to feel you come on my face again." your body is shaking, nearly screaming out as you finish over your boyfriend's tongue once more. he pulls his fingers out, licking up your pussy and placing one final kiss on your clit, licking up any remaining taste of you from his fingers. his forehead is slick with sweat, his chin dripping with your wetness as he joins you on the bed. leaning down to kiss your mouth. "you're such a good boy artie," you mumble against his lips. you reach down his body, palming his boner through his pants before he removes your hand. "no no, princess, tonight was all about you." you sigh and kiss him again. "you're my perfect boy, art." all he can do is smile at you, undressing himself and lulling you to sleep, any thoughts of jealousy disappearing as long as you never spend any more time with his friends.

[prettieinpink]

Being that girl once again- back to school!

It’s back to school season everyone, and my favourite times of the year. In this post im going to give you stuff to do for back to school + advice in specific areas of your school life! I hope everyone can take away something from this post <3 

THINGS TO DO BEFORE BACK TO SCHOOL <3

Revise your past term content in your core subjects, ensure there’s nothing you do not understand(it’s better to understand now than have to understand later)

Review what you are going to be learning for this current term in your core subject, you don’t have to study it, just familiarise yourself. 

Catch up with your friends- hang out, call or text before the new school term. My favourite thing is to create predictions of drama, couples etc in the upcoming term w my girlies!

Create SMART goals for you to achieve that term, in any aspect you want. I say; 1 goal for academics, 1 goal for social and 1 goal for extracurriculars/sports. 

Clean your room !! do a deep clean and declutter. E.g wipe down all surfaces, hover pillows, vacuum floor, clean mirrors, take out any clothes you dislike

Do an everything shower + face masks!!

ACADEMICALLY

Everyday afterschool, revise everything that you’ve learnt today + the things that you struggle on

Anytime you get homework, complete it as soon as possible. Most of the time, it’s easy and non time consuming. 

Create study guides for exams/tests while actually learning instead of when the assessments are actually coming up. It saves you a lot of time, which you can use for studying effectively.

If you don’t already, have a specific learning/studying style that works for you. E.g flashcards, blurting, mind map, spaced repetition, the feynman technique. (ofc you can have multiple). Just know the pros and cons of each studying technique. 

Or, what I do is that I assign specific studying techniques to different subjects e.g science - blurting, HASS - flashcards, maths - the feynman technique. This may be different to what you have the most success learning.

Have a place, time every day or at least most days, where you can study without distractions. I like to study at the library afterschool, it’s chill and literally void of any distractions.

The only advice in which i’ll say is not optional– do practise questions under the said test conditions. Stop using websites, listening to music, being on your phone etc. Get in the zone and transfer the environment. 

SOCIALLY

Make an effort to say hi or goodbye to some people, even if you do not know them that well. If you’re up for it, ask them how they are going or how their day has been.

Start remembering names and birthdays. This will literally make people like you so much more, it’s so simple but people swoon over this. Process names in your mind and write down birthdays in your calendar. 

Don’t be afraid to talk to others. Most people do not care if you talk to them, and some are glad that you talk to them. This is how people become well-known or well-liked. 

Watch videos on how to converse with people you do not know well effectively and become close with them. TED x has a lot of videos on this, and are usually helpful. 

Don’t try to fit in with the crowd. It’s so draining, and even if you think they do, they most likely dislike you(sorry!) . Instead, find/be with your people. 

Join a club/extracurricular. You meet so many like-minded people this way, while still developing your own skills. I say everyone should at least have one solid extracurricular. 

If you are in a talking stage, three weeks is enough time for him or you to decide if you’re willing to date them. It’s not the 1920s anymore, we have imessages, facetime, skype and others to communicate and get to know each other without contact

Call out your friends if you notice them doing something toxic or generally anything they shouldn’t do. E.g gossiping, getting mad at others, bullying someone. If they continue, it will influence you in the long run.

MENTALLY 

Reframe your mindset. I know most of us do not favour school, but do not dwell on negativity and find ways to be positive/neutral about your circumstances. You’ll feel so much better.

Detach. Detachment is literally essential in highschool, there’s so much drama and most likely you will somehow get tied up in it. Stop absorbing what happens and let it influence you, observe what happens and learn from it. I have a post on this here. 

Start saying affirmations everyday. I know affs are usually viewed as a manifestation thing, but it doesn’t have to be. It can be a simple one minute way to cultivate a neutral/positive perspective of yourself. 

Journal. Things will happen, so journaling is a great way to discuss your circumstances, feelings, trauma, relationships etc and develop a sense of identity at the same time. I have a post on this here. 

Meditate. It can be go-go-go constantly, but just take a break and gain some mental clarity and see how much better you feel decluttering your mind. 

Embrace a change and growth mindset, especially in an environment where we are constantly required to adapt. 

PHYSICALLY

Start stretching.. seriously. You sit at a desk for like 5 hours a day excluding lunch and recess, everyday, which is of course going to do a number on your body. It can relieve pain in many different areas.

Have at least 1 form of exercise you do everyday. I know being students, we have to sit at a desk constantly. But, do not give up on practising good exercise habits. Not only can it help with results, it’s good for you.

Get the recommended sleep of 6-8 hours per night, which is good quality sleep without disruptions. It helps with long term memory and you’ll feel better. 

Start packing healthy but tasty lunches to school instead of buying. You’ll save so much money in the long run, and it’s better for your body. 

BEAUTY 

Get your uniforms tailored just a bit. Not too noticeable, but enough that it fits better on your body. Especially for button formal shirts, as they make you look 10 times as bulky than what you actually are. 

Buy new jewellery, earrings, necklaces or whatever you’re allowed. Subtle but noticeable jewellery makes girls look so pretty.

Learn new hairstyles!! Don’t just wear the same hair everyday, mix it up, it’s fun and makes you look attractive. 

Get a good eyebrow gel + clear mascara. Legit life changer, I look so much better everyday because I look put together without make up.

apply  vaseline on areas you would apply highlight, but avoid your eye area. 

Have a good skincare regime!! Being a student is stressful, getting pimples is a sign of stress. 

Okay that's it. Happy back to school everyone! Here’s an affirmation for you <3

I am intelligent and capable. I am skilled and confident in my abilities. I am perceived well by others. I am healthy. I am wealthy. I am looking for this term to be full of good grades, vibes, friends, growth and fun. 

[fishnapple]

Use your 3rd house & Mercury for manifestation

Finding your own manifestation method that gives consistent results, at a consistent frequency is peak life magic for me.

My manifestation method is called "Written coloured words on calendar". I have a theory that since Mercury is associated with The Magician in Tarot, it has something to do with manifesting, especially by using verbal or written words. Mercury will help manifesting the themes of the house that it rules. While the energy of the planet that rules your 3rd house will be the tool to communicate and express your messages.

Do give it a try and tell me if it's effective for you too. If you have your own manifestation method, feel free to spread the magic.

1. What you need

Coloured pens (the colour of the ink of the pen or the lead if you are using pencils, not the colour of the case)

A calendar that has space to write on (other things like a piece of paper or notebook don't work)

Basic astrology knowledge & your chart: you should know what planet rules your 3rd house and what house does Mercury rule in your chart

2. How I do it

The colour: Choose the pen with the colour that matches the colour associated with the planet that rules your 3rd house.

The phrase: I write "I want/need change" with that coloured pen around the space of the present day on the calendar. The phrase should be short, with a broad meaning, conveys the matters related to the house that Mercury rules in your chart. Don't be too specific like I want a red dress or I want 100$, start with general terms like asking for changes, surprises, chances, opportunities, helps, guidance.

Timing: the manifestation will happen within the next week, without fail, this is how it worked for me, the speed might depend on the planet that rules your 3rd house.

Example of how it works: I have Mercury rules my 3rd house & 6th house so it can be straightforward, whenever I wrote "I want change" with green (colour of Mercury) pen on the calendar, within the next week, a new business partnership/offer & more works (3rd & 6th house matters) appeared, I met someone new who would have Gemini or Virgo or both placements in their chart, who I would do business with, work with, travel with or became my friend (3rd & 6th house matters).

*Notes:

So you won't be able to manifest other things related to different houses & planets other than 3rd house and Mercury? → Most likely, I've tried with different houses & planets but it usually had short-term effect or no observable effect, while 3rd house and Mercury gave more long-term effects.

Each manifestation works only once, if you want it to happen again, you will need to write again.

3. Colours associated with each planet & their effect

Here is the list of effects I have observed through the years practising this. It can change depending on your chart though, try to experiment with each one yourself.

Yellow - Sun: Joyful events

Grey - Moon: No observable effect

Green - Mercury: Business, friendships, partnerships (strongest manifestation power, at least for me)

Pink - Venus: Interactions, pleasant exchanges

Red - Mars, Black - Pluto: Immediate unpleasant effects like traffic problems, meeting people in bad moods, troubles with machines, things become more hectic

Navy - Saturn, Blue - Uranus, Teal - Neptune : No observable effect

Purple - Neptune/Jupiter : Increase or decrease of interactions with people, can give rise to popularity but can also slow down your progress (I haven't really figured out this one yet)

Orange - Jupiter: Chances to expand your perspective, be more brave, test your resolution and faith. Some events can be negative at first but will turn out alright, after that you will learn some valuable lessons.

About me | Masterpost

[lcriedlastnight]

Can you write something with Oscar where they hated each other during their childhood or teenage years, but they meet again during adulthood

hey anon! thank you so much for your request!

tw: fem!reader. swears, i feel it feels a little rushed but idk. not spell checked. lmk if you want me to add anything.

w/c: 1.9k

you and logan were the ‘duo’ during karting, f2 and f3. where ever you went, logan followed and vice versa. you both understanding each other on a different level than the others around you, just simply didn’t . others around you including: oscar piastri.

you knew fine well that oscar and logan got along well. at one point logan even told you that he thought of oscar as his best friend in racing. knowing all of this should’ve made you like him, but it didn’t. you didn’t know if it was the way he walked around the karting course, when you were children, like he owned the place or if it was the little niggle in the back of your mind that acknowledged how good of a racer he actually was and that just pissed you off even more, you didn’t know. all you knew is that he needed to be brought down a peg or two and you would happily be to one to do it forever, much to logan’s chagrin.

logan really wanted the both of you to get along but you couldn’t help yourself, especially when you were younger, you had to tell him exactly what you thought about him, any and every time he pissed you off.

sometimes you did feel bad about hating on the aussie, like the times where a race didn’t really go his way, but as soon as you would go over to commiserate him he’d shout at you and tell you to get out of his way. you stopped feeling bad about it after that.

this rivalry continued all the way through to when both boys made it to f1. maybe it even deepened further. any time the two of you bump into each other, the only words said (if any) were snarky comments and backhanded compliments. mainly from your end.

none of this stopped you from supporting one of your oldest friends though, any time you were able to you would join him in the williams paddock, usually the first one to run to him when the race ended bad for him.

the most recent time you had joined logan for a race weekend was australia. you had watched along during the free practise but afterwards logan seemed to be avoiding you. you had looked everywhere for him, wanting to do your usual ‘after free practise’ routine of dissing the rest of the drivers (especially oscar) and telling logan that he was the best driver on the grid.

you make your way through the paddock searching for him and you eventually find him in the mclaren motorhome, standing with none other than oscar piastri. you roll your eyes and walk up to the two of them but they’re both too deep in their conversation that they don’t hear you coming.

“you have to tell her, mate” oscar tells logan, brows furrowed. logan’s back is to you so you can’t see his reaction, but you do hear it.

“she’ll be crushed!” it comes out a breathy and high pitched.

“obviously she’ll be crushed but do you not think it’s better for her to hear it from you” oscar replies, his eyes gentle. it pisses you off. him saying all this as if he knows you and how you would feel about certain things. you decide to make your presence known.

“i think i trust logan’s opinion on whatever you two are talking about more than yours, piastri.” your voice is a little mean but there are hints of confusion and concern for logan.

logan spins in his spot to face you. his eyes are wide and his brows sit high on his forehead. “oh uh hi! we were just talking about… racing stuff?” logan’s mouth moves faster than you’ve ever seen before.

“racing stuff?” you repeat back, “are you asking me or telling me?”. it’s a half joke, half serious question. i give him a half smile but logan stands there, a little awkwardly.

i wait for a second before my smile falls again. “okay what? what is it?” you asked a little worried now. oscar stands behind him but you forget about him, getting worried about logan now.

“logan you better tell me right now or-” you start but he cuts you off.

“i’m not racing this weekend. alex’s crash fucked up his car and they’re giving mines to him for the rest of the weekend.” logan avoids your eyes, instead choosing to stare at the floor.

it takes a while for you to calm down afterwards. logan takes you somewhere more private than the mclaren motorhome where you let out your anger.

“why weren’t you going to tell me?” you ask him after you had calmed down.

“i didn’t want this to happen. i only really did it because oscar told me i should.” logan explained.

you sigh out. “well you can always tell me anything. we’ve been friends forever, logan. and i guess that was kinda nice of oscar to do that.” logan’s grin is too wide, it’s like he ignored the first part and just focused on the only nice thing you have ever said about oscar.

you roll your eyes and change the subject. “okay well i guess there’s no point in staying to watch the rest of the weekend.” logan gasps.

“well since you don’t want to stay with me, there might be a certain someone who asked for you to stay and watch.” his eyebrows wiggle teasingly. it annoys you to no end. you let him know by the long groan you let out.

that’s how you ended up watching qualifying from the mclaren garage. you were surprised oscar actually let you stay and watch in his garage, but all it took was a mere seconds conversation with logan and you were in.

although the previous qualifying had been a bit of a better result for the aussie he still practically skipped into the garage. the joys of doing well in the first part of your home race, you suspect.

“oh hey! i didn’t think you were actually gonna stay. i thought you and oscar hated each other?” lando asks after noticing you, kind of just standing there. you couldn’t be more thankful for his presence at that moment, feeling a little out of place in the papaya filled garage.

you give him a tight smile. “where did you get that from? we’re best friends.” your tone dripping with sarcasm. lando smirks with a half chuckle at your tone. before you could talk more, oscar comes up behind you.

“i knew i could get you to admit it one day.” he says to you. you can hear the happiness in his tone. this is the first time oscar has said something and it hasn’t made you want to rip his vocal cords from his throat.

“ha ha. aren’t you funny?”. lando rolls his eyes at your response before he stirs the pot.

“well i’ll leave you two to it. there’s too much tension here and it’s making the room a little stuffy.” he bounces out the garage, eager to catch up with his engineers.

you don’t know why but lando’s comment made the heat rush to your face. you hope oscar doesn’t notice. he probably does though. you are stuck on what to say and you don’t like just standing there staring at him because the more you look at him the more you like what you see, so you scramble your brain for something to say.

“thanks for telling logan to tell me about not driving this weekend.” is all you can come up with.

you can feel oscar’s confusion. “you’re welcome? is this your way of repaying me? by watching quali in my garage?” he asks. half joking.

“what no?” oscar laughs at your defensive tone.

“why are you here then?” he questions you. this then confuses you.

“logan said you wanted me to stay and watch?”.

oscar’s head dips down, eyes avoiding yours and hints of what you think is a faint blush on his cheeks.

“you didn’t want me to stay and watch?” you ask, feeling a little bold with your questions.

oscar is quick to correct you. “no i did. i said that to logan.”

“why did you even want me to stay? i thought you hated me?” you ask again, not getting tired of asking him all these questions. plus the blush made him look cute. cute for an ugly guy, you correct your own thoughts. the words that free you from spiralling confuse you more.

“i don’t hate you.”

what? he most certainly did hate you. you had year upon years of proof. possibly maybe even a decade worth of mean comments and dirty looks. what was he talking about?

your mouth opens and closes a few times as you try to find your words. “you.. you don’t hate me?”

oscar’s head is quick to shake.

“but what about all those times we argued? and all those horrible things you said to me?” you remind him. oscar acting like none of that ever happened was baffling you.

“don’t you remember how every single one of those arguments started?” he asks. it’s your turn to shake your head.

“i would always come over after races to talk to logan and of course you were there. i would go to ask logan about the race and you would interrupt me by saying something about ‘there being no need to rub my talent in his face’ or if logan had done better than me you would always say ‘he doesn’t talk to people who only want him when he’s a winner’. even if all i wanted was to let my frustrations out with my friend. you were mean too.” you’re stunned to silence.

you didn’t think anything you said to oscar was that mean. or even worth remembering. it wasn’t in your case, that’s how you can’t even remember saying any of it.

“oh” is all you can say.

“yeah, oh. even though you were horrible i still wanted to talk to you.” oscar admits, head held high, even though can see the way the confidence on his eyes falters a little.

you feel a wave of embarrassment wash over you at your actions. how could you ever hate someone who, even though they were being treated like shit, wanted to be friends to support their other friend?

“i’m sorry. that was so horrible of me. i honestly don’t know what else to say. i’m horrible.” you tell him. you wear your regret all over your face, clearly visible to oscar.

“you’re not.” oscar takes a step forward and hesitates for a second before he places a gentle hand on your shoulder. “you were just trying to protect you’re friend. you’re a good person. the only reason i wanted to keep talking to you was because i wanted you to defend me like that.”

the realisation hits you, you’re face softening even more. oscar liked you. maybe even still likes you.

“oh.”

oscar smiles a little. he’s spent years hearing every little detail about you from logan he feels like he knows you just as well as the american does.

“i’ve got to do some media stuff but why don’t we grab dinner or something afterwards?” oscar offers, you nod instantly, eager to know the boy as well as logan does.

“okay, yeah that sounds good.” you smile at the boy for maybe the first time ever.

oscar smiles back.

you hated being wrong but you didn’t mind being wrong about how nice oscar was.

[impactedfates]

Letters Unsent - Genshin + HSR Boys x GN! Reader

★ Summary: After their death, you find a letter. A letter he wrote. A letter he wrote for you, a letter he wished he could’ve given to you personally. A letter describing his feelings.

☆ Characters Included (Separate): Diluc, Wriothesley, Cyno, Argenti, Jing Yuan + Gepard

★ Genre/Trope: Angst + Hurt/No Comfort

☆ Warnings: Major Character Death (Not the Readers)

★ Extra: Angst is fun, angst is nice :)) // Might make another part with different characters if this does well // Not fully proof read // Motivation came back cuz of sad tunes/hj

He said he'd be back, that it'll be quick. Despite your worry, you knew he was strong, so he'd be able to protect himself right? So you trusted him. Trusted him so much that when his co-worker showed up to your door with an expression you couldn't exactly read, you were confused. It was about him but...he was fine right? Then why were they telling you he had passed? The injuries he sustained was...to much for his body to handle? The healers couldn't help him? But...he said he'd be back...you were snapped out of your thoughts when they handed you a letter with your name on it. "I think he knew he wouldn't be able to make it...so...he wanted you to have this...even if he couldn't hear your answer"

"To My Dearest,

If I'd ever be lucky to even call you that. Although this isn't ideally how I wanted to do this. I believe I can only get these things on paper, it's much too difficult otherwise. I was never good with words so I hope this alternative is alright for you.

Ever since the day I first laid eyes on you, I knew you were different. Not in a bad way. It took me way too long to figure out the reason for this was due to the fact I loved you.

I loved seeing your smile.

Hearing your laugh.

Loved the small talk we had that would end up with me taking you home. You made me feel something I didn't think I would ever feel, and I'm unsure if I even deserve it.

If I even deserve you.

Whether or not you feel the same way, I hope we can stick together as long as time allows us.

Sincerely

Diluc."

"To Y/N

Hope you're doing well, life in Meropide is still as dull as ever. Well, unless you decide to visit, you really do light up the room when you come by don't you? Or maybe that's just for me.

Anyways, preferably I would be telling you this in person, but more work has piled up. That's also why our little tea sessions have to be put on hold for now. Don't worry, as soon as this all clears up and I investigate this one area, then we can go back to the usual.

I have this one blend I think you'd really like!

Anyways, enough beating around the bush.

I like you.

Like like you.

I love you.

So much.

I can't even begin to describe how much I love you, and even if I did I feel you'd be gagging at how cheesy I was being haha!

But really, I love you so much. I want to be with you, of course I understand if you don't feel the same. But Sigwinnie would have my head if I postponed this confession any longer.

I hope to see you again after my work.

Yours Truly

Wriothesley"

"Hello Y/N

I never thought I'd be writing this kind of letter in my free time. Unfortunately for me, it seems as though fate likes making things harder for me and whenever I want to even try to talk to you about this, it's much more difficult than it was when I practised in the mirror.

Or...

Well...

Practised to Tighnari.

We can ignore that for now though as I'm still trying to put this all together in words.

I would let you borrow my TCG set, you can use it as you please and I'd even let you touch my limited edition cards.

If that's not making any sense then how about a joke?

How does a fruit confess?

They say "Olive You"

.

.

.

Get it, because an olive is a type of fruit, and olive sounds like "I love"

.

.

.

I love you"

"My beloved rose

As much as I'd love to tell you all these words in person, my search for Idrila is still ongoing and I am unsure when I'll be able to see your beautiful face once again.

Ever since my eyes laid on your beauty, I thought I had found Idrila herself, but once I got to know you. Even if you weren't the Goddess, you could almost rival her.

The sparkle in your eyes.

The pretty little smile.

Your wonderful personality.

All those things you think are flaws? I love each and everyone of them. They are not flaws to me and it pains me knowing you think of yourself like that.

Once we meet again, I want to make sure you know how deserving you are of these words, how your 'flaws' aren't flaws and how much I love every bit of you.

Though I am aware I find many things worthy of praise. I want to let you know that you're different.

I don't just want to praise you, compliment you. I wish to love you, hold your hands and protect you with my life, no matter what it takes.

I love you so much, and if I could be so lucky to call you mine. Well, I think I'd be the happiest man alive.

I will return soon,

Signed

Argenti"

"Morning, Afternoon or Night

I'm not too sure when the Cloud Knight will give this to you, or when I'll give this to them. Whatever the case, I won't beat around the bush too much.

I love you.

Nothing could compare the feeling in my heart when I see you.

The smile that will never fade as long as you're there by my side.

You are just amazing. In all my years of living, never would I have thought to have met someone as perfect as you.

Even Fu Xuan herself can see just how enamoured I am for you, although for her. She's been using it as an advantage to do work.

'If you finish now you can see them quicker'

'How would they feel knowing that you're not working?'

'Stop dozing off or they won't come to see you ever again!'

I must admit, they all do work. Even if in hindsight, not only would I still see you even with work uncomplete, I'll see you plenty of times and more to come but I don't think you care all too much about my sleep.

But I digress.

I hope this letter finds you well, take as much time as you need to consider my words and think about your own feelings.

I'll be waiting where I always am.

Jing Yuan"

"Dear Y/N

Aeons this is embarrassing. But it would be even more embarrassing if Serval kept teasing me about this. I've been putting this off for so long, worried about how you'd react.

Your answer.

And if this would change your view on me...but you're not that kind of person. I know you're not. And after a bit of thinking, to save me from stumbling on my words. I decided to write a letter.

Serval should be the one giving this to you, so I hope she didn't say anything to you, I would nearly die of embarrassment if she did. Anyways!

So...I know it's probably not much hoping Serval wouldn't say something actually, knowing her, she gave it away with one sentence but...

I like you, a lot. More than you could ever know.

And I'm more than happy to talk to you about this in full once I'm back from my mission.

I can only pray you feel the same, but even if you don't.

I hope we stay friends.

Until next time,

Gepard"

WOOO FINALLY GOT THIS DONE AFTER FOREVER.

Sorry if any characters are OOC, I tried my best with writing what I think they'd write in a confession letter, but I hope you enjoyed this anyways!

[g1rld1ary]

red carpets - actor!sirius black x actress!reader

wc: 942

cw: none! you catch sight of sirius on the red carpet

tag: @lovemenotts

The sheer amount of noise surrounding you was making you light-headed. Yet, you plastered on a smile, smoothed out your silky skirt and stepped onto the red carpet. Your smile didn’t budge as you inched down the carpet, performing for the hungry cameras and the sometimes scary men behind them. You grit your teeth as they yell commands, changing pose as they desire, waiting to get to the interview portion of the red carpet. At least the journalists had to be polite to you.

A woman from some gossip rag you purposefully avoid reading calls you over and you consciously boost your smile again, turning up the energy to 100. She’s nice, at least, and a good conversationalist. Too many interviewers left you to pick up their slack and carry the conversation as if it weren’t their job to be digging for the information they want.

“How does it feel to be nominated for an Emmy in your first foray into television?” She asks and you beam.

“It’s such an honour, really. I mean, this show is such a labour of love, Lily put her heart and soul into the writing, so I’m just so grateful I got to be the one to bring it to life. It’s so amazing that we’re both being nominated tonight,” You answer with a practised grace, giving a glance to the camera behind the interviewer.

The conversation continues and you find yourself enjoying it more than you anticipated. The interviewer connects with you well and matches your excited energy at being around celebrities. You figure it’s about time you move on, but give her one more question as a secret reward for her not being as invasive as the others usually are. She asks about your friendship with Lily and creating a project with someone you’d known forever and you grin again.

You start your answer, gushing over Lily’s talent for screenwriting and your friendship of ten years. You turn to look for her, meaning to gesture when your eyes get caught on something. Someone.

“Who is that?” You ask the interviewer, pointing out the most gorgeous man you’d ever seen in your life. Long dark hair, dressed in all black with silver jewellery glinting in the flash of cameras, you basically fall in love at first sight.

“That’s Sirius Black,” The interviewer answers with a laugh.

“God, what is he from?” He’s honestly supernaturally good-looking, you’re not convinced he’s real.

“He co-created and stars in The Marauders series, you haven’t seen it yet?”

“No, I’ve been meaning to but I haven’t had the time — Lils says it really has to be appreciated so I’m waiting to dedicate significant time to it. He did not look like that on the poster.” The series is set in high school and so all the actors look different, younger, Sirius no exception. The dark eyeliner around his grey eyes creates a magnetic contrast that makes him look much more mature than his character.

“Is it safe to say you’ll be finding him at the after-party?” The interviewer asks cheekily. The situation comes back to you in an instant; you’re on camera and who knows how many people are seeing you thirst over another actor in real-time.

“God no,” You laugh, frantically trying to brush over the incident, “I don’t chase after boys. He’d have to work for my attention.” You wink in an attempt to deliver the joke and it goes over smoothly enough, the interviewer graciously letting it go and thanking you for your time. You thank her profusely.

You chance another glance at Sirius as you move on, all grace and long limbs as he effortlessly poses for photos and messes around with his co-stars, spirit not yet beaten out of him by Hollywood. You envy the way his cast talk all the way through the process, clearly extremely fond of each other. You would go to the ends of the earth for Lily, your best friend and writer of the show you star in, but your male lead couldn’t be more opposite. Severus Snape was someone you would never get along with, and your interviews consisted of forced smiles and camaraderie on your side and zero effort from him. You would love a cast like The Marauders, not that you would dare complain to Lily, who had given you so much.

You don’t end up meeting Sirius during the awards or the afterparty, unfortunately, though you do see him once more across the room and feel the flutter of intrigue in your stomach. The next awards ceremony you had a goal, and a series to watch in the meantime.

LOVE IS ON THE RED CARPET? EMMY WINNER ADMIRES NOMINEE SIRIUS BLACK

The clip from that interview goes viral, both your fans and Sirius’ dissecting every frame of the videos. Some focus on the subtle up-and-down you give him, slowing it down to a snail’s pace to catch every eye movement. Others focus on Sirius, swearing they could see his eyes flick over to you for a fraction of a second. The ultimate conclusion is that you two should be in love, or already are, and fan edits of both you and your characters are already surfacing on TikTok.

You sigh from your hotel bed, scrolling through an endless amount of photos of him and yourself. Your publicist would not be happy with you. Although, it could be a pretty good marketing strategy.

[yayakoishii]

hi! could i request for fluff and comfort with ace? there was this one reddit post i saw abt a guy who rambled abt being so grateful and happy that he's loved by his girlfriend, and the post described how he felt that way when they were having a bath together (nonsexual, i promise! feel free to look the reddit post up). i thought the prompt suited ace so much, esp since the guy in that reddit post mentioned that he cried out of happiness, so maybe smth like this with ace x fem!reader?

ofc, feel free to skip if it makes u uncomfy ^^

~ ♠️ anon

shower me in your love | Ace x Reader

Fandom: One Piece

Pairing: Portgas D. Ace x GN! Reader

Word Count: 1.6k

Genre: Fluff, Comfort

Warning(s): Nudity (non-sexual)

A/n: I loved this idea so much anon, I was so excited to write it for so long TT but post-exam creativity block really hit hard so this is a bit later than I had hoped to put out. Also, you asked for fem!reader but I think this fic never specified any body parts or pronouns at any point, so it ended up gender neutral haha... This is my first time attempting to write Ace, so please forgive any oocness ><

Please do not ask me the mechanics of a bathtub on a pirate ship and let's just pretend that can work out because the sea is on my side, 'kay? I hope you enjoy ♡ and thank you for the request!

also available on ao3!

The sun had dipped beneath the horizon but the sky was still clinging onto a fading orange. Above him, it was already starting to look like a dark midnight blue mixing into violet. Ace's shoulders slouched, the tension seeping out as he made his way to his sleeping quarters. The day had been hectic, and even the usually energised division commander was feeling a bit exhausted.

Ace couldn't wait to drop into his bed and fall asleep but the plan went out the window when he opened his door to find you sitting on his bed, your back to him.

"Hey," he called out, making you snap your neck around. Just the sight of your bright smile got a little more tension out of him. You bounced up to him, hands immediately coming up to cradle his face. You pulled him into a soft kiss and Ace exhaled slowly, pressing his body into your own soft one.

Out of the two of you, Ace was definitely the one with the higher body temperature but somehow, when you hugged, he couldn't help but feel that you were more… warmer. It was a different sort of warmth than physical– more emotional, he supposed. You felt a little bit like coming home, like coming to a fireplace after a day out in the snow.

"Hey," you said quietly, pulling back just enough to admire his face. He didn't have to say anything; he could see the understanding on your face with just one glance. "It's been an exhausting day, huh?"

"Mm," he didn't feel like talking about it, instead opting to drop his head on your shoulder. Ace pressed his nose into the crook of your neck, taking the familiar light scent of you. You giggled at the sensation, playfully pushing him without any real strength to it.

"That tickles!"

"You smell amazing," he whispered. You blushed, pushing at him with a bit more strength now.

"I'm sweaty, what do you mean?" You huffed out another short laugh. "And so are you, mister. C'mon, how about a nice hot bath, hm? I already set it up for the both of us while waiting."

Ace finally pulled away, looking at you with the softest expression. This time, he was the one to cradle your face in his hands. Pressing a light kiss on your forehead, he murmured a quiet admission of love. Gentle hands guided him toward the bathroom, shutting the doors behind him. Ace stood there as you removed his clothes and accessories with somewhat practised hands. When the both of you were undressed, you pulled him into the bathtub and sat down in between his legs.

This close, you could feel that Ace was running warmer than even the hot water around you. He quickly pressed a peck on the tip of your nose to surprise you, then grabbed the bottle of shampoo and soap to start but you stopped him. You took the shampoo out of his hands and smiled warmly when he looked at you with curiosity.

"How about I wash you today?" There was a hint of shyness in your voice, along with a sparkling in your eyes. Ace just nodded dumbfoundedly, watching you carefully squeeze out some of the shampoo into your hands. "Alright, stay still, I'll go sit behind you."

You stood up, the water splashing a bit as you carefully manoeuvred around to sit on the edge of the tub that was attached to the wall. Ace let your free hand guide his frame in between your legs and waited for a few seconds.

The moment your shampoo lathered finger dipped into his hair, he felt boneless. You weren't even doing much, just carding your fingers and working out the tangles as you ensured that the shampoo properly washed the roots and the tips, but it felt so good.

Ace couldn't really remember the last time someone touched him with such gentleness, such care and love. (He couldn't even remember who would have touched him like that the last time. Was it his mother?) You hummed a song he had heard you singing in passing, as you pressed your fingers into his scalp for a slight massage.

Another shaky exhale left his mouth along with the last remaining tension in his shoulders. Ace closed his eyes. With a soft hum, he pressed his head back into your stomach, heart singing at the sound of your giggle echoing in the small bathroom.

"Hey!" You said indignantly, pushing at his foam covered head. "Don't put your shampoo on my stomach."

It made Ace smile and he obliged, leaning his head away. You didn't touch him for a few minutes and he cracked his eyes open to look around at you, to find that you were shampooing your own hair now. You slid down into the tub and he made some space between the wall and him so you could sit properly. Once you were done, you wiped off the foam on your hand and switched to the soap.

"Alright, c'mere, my big baby," you grunted, trying to pull him by his arm. He blinked then let you pull him into the position you wanted. And then you are sitting in his lap, soap being lathered onto his skin with diligent hands. He didn't say anything and just stared quietly at you from the close proximity.

Normally, having you in his lap would get him a little… excited, but today, the action was so non-sexual and domestic, it seemed to hurt. Every movement and word you had said felt mind-numbingly relaxing. Half a year ago, if someone had suggested he would be in this position with you, he would have laughed and called them to get their marbles checked.

Right now though, he couldn't believe his own luck as your fingers dragged over him with a gentleness he had yet to experience from elsewhere. He was strong. Everyone knew that. You knew that. But even knowing that, you always touched him so softly, so gently, that it made him feel like he was made out of fragile brittle glass.

He kinda liked it.

To be vulnerable in front of you only was something he could agree to. No one had ever been this patient and loving towards him, and the fact that he loved you too much to even put it into words crashed around inside him as he watched you soap yourself up.

You were beautiful, obviously. He had to be blind to not notice how gorgeous you were. But sometimes, he couldn't help but think that your real beauty lies in how you just fit in with everyone so well. You were understanding, you were kind and you were there whenever anyone needed you. You were there when Ace needed you. And even though you were there for him, silently understanding what he needed, you never expected anything back for it. It was purely an act of love.

He wasn't talking much like usual today, but you didn't say anything about it. You only continued in your actions, washing away the soap and the shampoo with the water. Ace continued to stare at you, wondering if you were really real.

You were so good to him. He remembered when Marco had mentioned after you announced your relationship that you were good for him. He hadn't really understood the depth of that sentence until now. Until this moment, sitting in his bathtub that was definitely not made for two people, as you washed him even though he was a grown adult who could do it himself.

And it wasn't really about the ability to do it, was it? It was more about the feelings and the thoughts behind the action– it was about the care you felt. Of course you knew he could do it– but you wanted to do it for him anyway because you loved him.

You loved him so much, he couldn't help but feel thoroughly loved and blessed. You, who could have fallen in love with anyone, had fallen in love with him. On his down days, he couldn't help but think that you deserved better than him. Right now though, he couldn't think of anything else but the fact that he was so grateful that you chose him out of everyone.

Whatever made you choose him– he would forever be grateful to it. You were the best thing to happen to him.

"Ace?" Your concerned voice startled him out of his thoughts, and he looked at you. You were done cleaning off both of you, but you were back in his lap. Familiar hands came up to wipe away what Ace realised were tears streaming down his face. He felt a little mortified that he cried over something so small but, like always, it was like you could read his mind. "It's not insignificant if it makes you feel something so strong. Just let it out, hm?"

He didn't really need your 'permission', but the moment you said that, his body seemed to take it as the cue to cry even more. Warm tears rolled down his cheeks and he felt you guide his face into the crook of your neck– you knew he felt embarrassed about crying in front of you. You just did it to let him save face; you let him hide his face in your embrace.

Ace sobbed into your neck, body shaking as he felt your fingers card through his hair and draw hearts into his back, over his tattoo. The two of you stayed like that for a while until the tears finally stopped.

"Let's dry up?" Your eyes were soft as you helped him stand up and out of the bathtub. "And then we can cuddle in bed all night. How does that sound?"

You didn't need to say it out loud to let him know how you felt. Ace watched you wrap a towel around him and then yourself, the unspoken words lingering in the air alongside the steam.

"Sounds amazing."

I love you too.

°•❀•°

all likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated ♡

★ Taglist for Ace:

@toertchen | @boomboom-tanjiro2019 | @katiemrty | @writingmysanity | @akaashi-todorki

let me know if you want to be added/removed!

[strawberrylabs]

Goodnight with Genshin characters! (Pt 1)

Featuring: Lyney, Freminet, Kazuha, Venti, Cyno and Childe

Summary: Nights with some of the Genshin cast based on their voice lines!

Warnings: some of these are quite angsty!(it depends on the voice line of the character), and some also contain spoilers for character lore!

Note: this is my apology post for being a solid 19 posts behind whumptober and ignoring my inbox<///3 im getting there guys I promise!!!

Lyney! (125)

"Good night. If you have trouble falling asleep, I have a few little props used for hypnosis that might help... or Maybe not. Either way, sweet dreams!"

Lyney's gentle smile after his comedic suggestion helps you feel at ease. He comes up with something different every night- you really don't know how he hasn't run out of magic-related-sleep-remedies yet.

He often goes to bed after you. Whether he's up practising some magic for his next show or doing some work for Father in the veil of the night doesn't matter to you. As long as you awake to find him there, unharmed, you can manage falling asleep with out him.

But, on the rare occaision he goes to bed at the same time as you, sharing in your night-time routine and holding your hand under the covers, the two of you can stay up for hours talking about anything, everything and nothing.

Freminet (156)

"You go ahead, I'm gonna stay up and read for a while. Hmm? What am I reading? It's, um... It's about diving. There's a bunch of skills I need to... Anyway, night!"

It's not uncommon for Freminet to read before bed. If you're lucky, he may even read with you next to him, allowing you to read along, always checking to make sure you've finished the page before turning.

Althought every night he says he's reading about diving, or marine life, or automechs, you've learned to pick up on the slight rouge of his cheeks, and the stutter that becomes a little more apparent when he lies about what he's reading. It's on these nights you know he's reading about Pers, and it's on these nights you know to leave him be.

Whether he chooses to sleep with you- in the same bed or the same room or the same house- you know not to betray that trust. And for as long as you respect him and his boundaries, he will be grateful.

Sometimes, in the night, you think you feel yourself awake to a faint 'thank you',

Kazuha (194)

"The wind has ceased... The world is silent, so now is the best time to rest well. See you tomorrow."

Kazuha often doesn't join you during the night, whether you are choosing to sleep or stay up. He opts to sit in the crows nest of the crux, listening to the silence of the night. He'll swear that from up there, it appears as if the world itself has gone to sleep with the night- the sea acts as a blanket for the life below, the stars and moon a night light for the trees and the sand and the surf, the clouds casting a shadow of calm upon the land.

Kazuha spends his nights writing about what he sees, and when you awake you find a poem written in his hand about how the beauty of the night reminds him of you.

On the nights when the land is not calm with dreams, but instead enraged with nightmares, he will sit with you in your cabin, and chat about the day gone by. Despite the conditions outside your walls, you sleep best on those nights. The nights where you awake to find you had both fallen asleep with smiles on your faces, after long conversations that drift into the night on lovesick clouds.

Venti

"Off to the land of nod? Haha, farewell, my friend!" (318)

You loath the nights where Venti bids you goodnight without joining you. You can tell by looking at the way he looks everywhere but you, by the way he laughs- hollow and false, so unlike his usual mellodic, spring filled chuckles- and you can tell by the way he says "friend", that he'll be spending his night alone in the hands of his statue, or at Windrise, or at Stormterrors lair. You know he'll be contemplating the centuries of his past.

He'll sit in his own hands, because they're not really his hands, but the hands of his first companion; and by doing so he can feel that maybe the memory of that unnamed bard who he held so dear is not truly forgotten by his people- after all, they built a statue of him, even if they did it unknowingly. He'll gaze at the bark and the leaves of the tree at Windrise, and recall how he let Mondstadt fall into the hands of couption and tyranny due to his negligance the first time around. He'll gaze upon the ruin's of Stormterro's lair- of Old Mondstadt- and replay the events from thousands of years ago, when he was just too weak, too slow, too powerless to save the first being to make him feel something.

You know you should leave him alone. Let him sort through his mind and his memories. But you also know that his mind plays the nastiest, cruelist of tricks on him- dragging him down with nightmares and jabs of "what if's" and "why's".

So when he turns to retreat into the neverending chasm of his mind, you reach out and grab his hand. You follow him into the chasm, and help brighten the darkness with the light of your presence.

Venti is reluctant to admit it- but he will.

'The monsters of my mind seem a little less scary with you here.'

Cyno

"Goodnight. Now, there's some criminal activity nearby that I'll go deal with."

You can't help but worry about Cyno when he says he's going out late to deal with something like this. You know as the General Mahamatra he has various responsibilities he must uphold. But when you're alone at night, your thoughts wander, and you ponder more on his situation.

You wonder, if his father hadn't suffered such a fate, would Cyno still be doing such dangerous jobs as a Matra? Or would he be a regular Spantamad scholar of the Akademiya? If he hadn't been pushed into this position, would he be lying with you now, drifting to a dreamless sleep with you, and not risking his life without recognition- or at least not the recognition he deserves.

You know it's not your place to think these things. Cyno is happy with his job, happy to follow after his Father, regardless of what things are said about him.

You quash your fears and your thoughts when you hear him return. He never left you for long. You knew he would always return to you. And he had every intention of doing so as long as the need remained.

Childe (182)

"Today was great. See you tomorrow, comrade!"

You always chuckled at his Ajax's tendancy to call everyone comrade. You teased him about it whenever it happened, and he always laughs with you and exclaims 'it's just habit!'

You know Ajax is busy, and he'd have less work during the day if he worked through the night. But he always insists on going to bed with you.

He created a bed-time-skin-care routine for you both- courtesy of him buying all the products. He puts is hair in a headband and follows the usual plan to a T.

When it's time to sleep, he smiles warmly at you. You pretend not to see the sadness in his eyes. He pretends it isn't there too.

So, for as long as the shadows of night will hide the pair of you, you'll bask in each others warmth, and soak up the laughter and the kisses you share.

And when the morning comes, as Ajax leaves to do jobs you never speak of, you will both eagerly await the fall of the sky's curtains, so you can forget the worries of reality once again.

Hope you enjoyed!

-Strawberry

Masterlist

Rules

[morelikeravenbore]

✨Sebastian Sallow spicy alphabet

These are my spicy headcanons for Sebastian when he's in a loving and committed relationship (aged up to 18+, obviously.) Based on how I imagine and write him in most of my spicy oneshots (ie a needy boi 🤭)

🍭 If you're looking for something more wholesome, I also wrote a Sebastian Sallow fluff alphabet.

🦋 A/N: all headcanons are valid, even if yours differ completely to mine.

A - Aftercare: what they’re like after sex.

Let me preface this by saying that Sebastian goes so hard and gives so much that afterwards, he's practically a boneless, wordless jellyfish man. So, while he makes sure you're okay, he mostly only has energy enough to pull you close and give you a little kissy on the head before he passes out.

B - Body part: their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s.

Since Sebastian was touch-starved and denied affection for so long, his favourite body part is his hands: touching you grounds him in reality and reminds him that you're real. He likes the versatility of his hands and the way he can coax so many different reactions from you depending on how and where he touches you. His hands are strong but his fingers are dexterous and nimble, and he uses this to his full advantage, either by caressing you as gently as if you're made of eggshells, brushing your head back from your face, tracing your lips with his thumb — or by pinning your wrists firmly above your head, making you come apart with just his fingers alone or holding you so tightly against him you can't move an inch.

His favourite body part (as I mentioned in my fluff alphabet) is your face. Watching your expressions when he's pleasuring you really gets him off. Pressing your foreheads together, breathing the same breath, intense eye contact all drive him insane.

C - Cum: anything to do with cum, basically.

Sex is a practise in vulnerability for Sebastian, so coming inside you and giving you a part of himself is the ultimate form of intimacy. He gets off on the thought of you carrying some of him inside you, and loves the feeling of you milking him dry when you come together.

D - Dirty secret: pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs.

He is needy. On the surface, Sebastian presents himself as this confident, charming assertive guy — and, generally speaking, he is; but when it comes to you, he's often so overwhelmed by the intensity of his feelings that he can't control himself. Being intimate with you goes beyond physical desire, its how he expresses his love in the most pure and vulnerable way he knows how, trusting that when he bares his soul to you, you'll accept and cherish it every time. As a result, he's often at your mercy, begging you to hold him together while he falls apart for you.

E - Experience: how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?

Before you, Sebastian had a little bit of experience, but he'd never been intimate with someone he truly loved, so your first time together really threw him off his game. However, he is incredibly observant, a fast learner and a very enthusiastic student, so he quickly learns what you like best.

F - Favorite position: this goes without saying.

Face to face. Whether it's missionary, straddling his lap, or pressed up against a wall, Sebastian craves that emotional connection as much as he does the physical. He goes crazy for eye contact during sex and loves having you moan and whimper into his mouth.

G - Goofy: are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.

Sex, in Sebastian's opinion, is one of the most fun experiences a person can ever partake in. Laughing, tickling or being silly together usually ends in love making. If you try a new position and it doesn't work, or he attempts talking dirty and it comes out cringe, the two of you will quickly descend into fits of giggles. You have definitely laughed him out of you on several occasions.

H - Hair: how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.

Quite honestly, Sebastian likes the way he looks naked, and takes pride in his body, so he'd keep things neat and tidy but without going overboard. Natural, but groomed.

I - Intimacy: how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect.

Though he's not a "typically" romantic person, Sebastian loves you more than anything or anyone in the world and expresses this most openly in the way he holds you close, kisses you, watches in awe when you fall apart for him. When words fail him, he lets his body speak — and boy does it speak.

J - Jack off: masturbation headcanon.

This boys sex drive is off the freakin charts, lol. He wakes up most mornings with an erection, and if he can't be with you, he's imagining being with you (and this happens a lot, usually at very inconvenient times). He is rather progressive when it comes to sexual health, especially for the time he's living in; having read a lot of anatomy and sexual health books (nicked from the Restricted Section, of course), he doesn't feel any shame about his sexuality, and in fact believes that masturbation is perfectly natural and healthy. In fact, if he tries to deny his urges, he finds he is less productive, more prone to frustrated outbursts, and has difficulty focusing on tasks.

K - kink: one or more of their kinks.

Praise. Sebastian loves to be told he's doing a good job. Calling him a good boy will basically short circuit his brain, but it doesn't matter whether the praise comes verbally or in the form of a mind-shattering orgasm; as long as he knows he's doing a good job, he's a very happy boy.

L - Location: favorite places to do the do.

Honestly, anywhere. He is obsessed with you, and when he needs you — he needs you. As long as he can get you away from prying eyes, he'll do it anywhere.

M - Motivation: what turns them on, gets them going?

Let's face it, it doesn't take much to get Sebastian going — just the thought of you alone is enough to turn him on — but he does especially like it when you're feeling passionate about something, whether you're fervidly telling him off for something, and your face is all cute and red from anger, or if you're rambling about something you absolutely love, or excited about something you've achieved, that spark is something that never fails to drive him crazy with lust.

N - No: something they wouldn’t do, turn offs.

While Sebastian is certainly an intense lover, he doesn't like pain-play or restriction (hands, airways, etc, either his or yours). Anything that makes him feel like he has no control over the situation tends to trigger his trauma responses and leads to anxiety. Given all this past traumas, he only wants to bring pleasure, and can't handle the thought of causing more pain or discomfort to someone he loves.

O - Oral: preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.

Since he's so obsessed with your face, Sebastian looooves when you give him head and he can watch how pretty you look when you're on your knees for him. Making direct eye contact will drive him absolutely feral.

In return, he loves using his mouth on you —particularly when you're already overstimulated. and he uses his tongue to slowly coax out another shuddering orgasm.

P - Pace: are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.

He likes to think he can take it slow, and usually he starts off with slow and sensual intentions: face kisses, lingering touches, long looks — but he loses himself in you so quickly that before long, he's just a sweaty, groaning sex machine. Hes got stamina though, so even when he's going hard, he's in for the long haul.

Q - Quickie: their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.

Though he prefers longer sessions where he can take his time with you, he's not exactly known for his patience, and if he's feeling needy enough, he will definitely take the opportunity to take you quickly.

R - Risk: are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.

As mentioned, anything that borders on painful or restrictive is a hard no for him; he just can't take pleasure from "hurting" you, even if its only for play. He does, however, love experimenting with different positions, relishing in all the ways he can use his body to make you come. Being so hungry for knowledge, he reads a lot of sexy books and loves to test

S - Stamina: how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?

Sebastian isn't satisfied until you've come at least twice, but will always strive for three or four rounds. He loves sex, he loves having sex with you, and he feels an incredible sense of pride and accomplishment when he makes you feel good. So much so, that he tends to get carried away, and sometimes you have to settle him down so you can recover.

T - Toys: do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?

Anything an object can do, Sebastian can do better. Or at least, that's his motto, and he'll live and die by it. He won't deny you if you want to experiment with toys, but he'd prefer to rely on his own faculties to bring you pleasure.

U - Unfair: how much they like to tease.

Leading up to it, Sebastian will tease you and flirt with you like an absolute fiend, whispering dirty things into your ear or teasing your inner thighs under a table, but as soon as you're touching him, he loses all resolve. He's putty in your hands; he simply can't resist you or hold himself back. Tease you all he wants, but orgasm denial is not a term he understands when he finally has you.

V - Volume: how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.

Sebastian's the type to moan in your ear, or whimper into the crook of your neck, or plead desperately into your mouth. He's vocal, but he's quiet about it (and usually incomprehensible).

W - Wild card: a random headcanon for the character.

Sebastian doesn't drink. Given his infatuation with the dark arts, his obsessive tendencies and the impulsivity that lead to the death of his uncle, he avoids anything that will comprise the full control of his mind and body.

X - X-ray: let's see what’s going on under those clothes.

He's freckled all over, tall (somewhere around 6ft), lean but lightly muscular. He's got nice broad shoulders, lovely upright posture, and toned forearms with all those yummy veins. He's not particularly long, but he's thick.

Y - Yearning: how high is their sex drive?

If it were physically possible, he'd probably never stop, especially when it's with you — the person he loves with his entire being.

Z - Zzz: how quickly they fall asleep afterwards.

Immediately, lol. Sometimes while he's still on top of you, depending on the intensity and duration of the session, but he always looks so blissed out and happy that you don't mind.

[luveline]

Hiii, if you’re interested, could I request Eddie but as an ice hockey player?? Your writing is out of this world and I would just love to read about his flushed cheeks after practice or something like that. I hope you’re doing great and I love your stuff❤️❤️❤️

thank you so much, for your request and for being so lovely, it means the world to me! ♡ fem!reader, 1.2k

He comes flying across the ice like he's weightless. A dropping sensation hits your stomach while your heart leaps into your throat, but Eddie saves himself at the last minute with a quick, hard turn, his left foot further out. Ice curls in his wake, sheared by the sharp blade of his skate. 

"How was that?" he calls up to you where you're sitting in the second row of the stands.  

"You can really see a difference," you say, crossing one leg over the other and hiding your frigid fingers between your thighs. "The two hundred metre sprints must be working, Eds. You're like a fricking whippet, it's scary." 

"They better be working," he says. "God, I fucking hate sprints." 

Eddie hates every aspect of his conditioning workouts. He loves hockey, and if he wants to be able to keep up with the rest of his team, let alone the opposition, he needs to stay fit in ways that are specific to the sport, so the sprints are a necessary evil.

He doesn't care for much of it. The deadlifting is a good look on him, though. Watching his muscles physically get bigger in size has been an Experience, capital 'E'. His weight gain in general, actually. 

"Do you feel tired?" you ask. 

Eddie groans, putting his arm up and behind his head, forcing his elbow down with the opposite hand. He doesn't realise how salalcious he appears, worse when he scrunches his eyes closed and turns his face to one side. "I always feel tired. This is good, though. Maybe Steve'll stop busting my ass at practice for getting winded before the third period."

You're glad it's so cold in the rink. His grumpy expression has you flushing all over. 

"Steve spends the majority of his time on the ice hunched over," you say. "Of course he doesn't get winded."

You wouldn't feel comfortable making a snide joke about Eddie's friends usually, but Steve knows you. He calls you Eddie's wife, though you aren't married, always trying to feed you hard pretzels while mouthing off about Eddie's shit plays. Hence your nonchalant disparagement. 

Eddie grins at you, dropping his arms back down to his sides. "Where're your skates, sweetheart? Come and take a lap with me." 

You brought your skates at his request. You'd climb the appalachian trail on your hands and knees if he asked you to, and not just because he's handsome and getting more so everyday, but because he's gorgeous on the inside. Kind of like finding a pretty rock and cracking it open to find gemstone, you'd been drawn to Eddie and his rough exterior, but you've grown to love him for what's inside. His sweetness, his charm. The way he's looking at you now —eyes wide, hopeful. You could believe that the only thing he wants in the whole world is to skate with you. 

"I'll slip again," you fret, having already mentally given in. 

Eddie knows you have, too. "I am not gonna let you fall over," he promises. "Put your gloves back on, yeah? It's cold." 

You put on your skates and gloves and wobble to the gap in the rink walls to step out. Eddie's waiting, taking your elbow into his hand to help you out. He's been playing ice hockey longer than you've known him, and while you've been by his side for his rise to tier 3, you've become less familiar with the ice rather than more. You're frankly intimidated by what he can do. He's fast. He's a great sportsman (with a short fuse, undoubtedly, but he's never unkind to the people around him) (besides that one on-ice official). Eddie's amazing, but he can't give you confidence on the ice. Only practice can do that. 

You're not super willing to practise. "Please don't let me fall on my ass, Eddie." 

"There's nobody here to see it. And if you fall, I'll help you up, I swear. But you're not going to fall over." 

While not specifically true, recreational skaters making lazy laps and a young figure skater working on waltz jumps in the defending zone, his surety makes you feel better.

Being on skates is a strange feeling. Eddie skates with the same ease as he walks. You freeze up, locking your hips. He moves his hand from your elbow to your hand. You can feel his fingers like blocks of ice through your gloves.

"Do you want to try just walking, or would you feel better skating in a circle?" he asks. 

"Uh–" Your footing slips. You're panicking. "Um, whatever you want." 

His cheeks glow with blush, his nose tip like a budding rose. He doesn't feel the cold anymore, nor fear of falling, setting you both on a speed akin to a light jog. You breathe out with a nervous squeak, fingers locked around his hand. 

"You got it," he says, in his way, too cool for you. His voice is awfully pretty sometimes, a little rough, all fond. He dotes via praise, his thumb petting pointless circles into the back of your hand. "You're always better than you think." 

"I don't know how you can find this fun," you say nervously. 

He tips his chin up, his disorderly bun pressed to the back of his neck. "It's not all fun. Sometimes I don't wanna do it as much as I did when I started, but sometimes I wanna do it more than ever. Like, getting bumped up? Well, you know how I felt." 

He'd hugged you so hard the air got knocked out of you. The celebrations were unrestrained. 

"I love hockey almost as much as I love you," he says, sending an appreciative smile your way. 

Your heart skips. "You love me more than hockey?"

"What kind of a question is that? Of course I do." He slows his skating, slows you with him, and kisses your cheek. His lips are as cold as his fingers. "But I want you to love hockey, so first you need to skate." 

"Don't yank me." 

"I'm yanking you, sweetheart. It's just like roller-blading." 

"I can't rollerblade." 

"No?" he asks, picking up his foot and putting it down, his thighs moving outward with each stroke. You scramble to keep up with him. 

"Eddie!" you shout, terrified as you swing around a corner. Despite the fear, you know he won't let you get hurt. Well, super hurt. 

"You're fine! Come on, let's see if we can meet my lap time." He smiles. Red cheeks, pink lips, and the world's warmest brown eyes. "You should start doing sprints with me. And lifting! That would be hot." 

You'd snort if you weren't too busy trying to stay in an upright position. You'll be surprised if Eddie has any bones left in his hand tonight when you're done. 

He doesn't once complain about your vice-like grip. 

[theemporium]

hey cece!! wondering if you could write jealous poly!marauders(i just watched hsm2 and i watched the everyday mv again so this is heavily influenced) where they go to watch readers play where she’s a main character and she’s got a male co-star and they’ve got a big musical number together and you can pretty much take it from there

god i love hsm 2, it is the best one and i will die on that hill!🤠 thank you for requesting!🖤

.

They wanted to be supportive boyfriends. 

They really, really did.

But it was difficult to do so when you were prancing around the stage in an outfit that made you look drop dead gorgeous with your male co-star following behind your every step. 

It was a part of the show. They knew that. Hell, they had even helped you with some of the lines when you were practising outside of rehearsals so they were more than aware that there was romance involved in the play, let alone a few duet musical numbers you would be performing with your love interest in the play. 

But those scenes seemed totally different when they realised they weren’t just silly scenes you would read with them, but actual scenes you would be performing with another man—another man you were pretending to be head over heels, totally in love with.

All three of them had been practically pouting and seething in their seats as they watched the play, pretending like they weren’t glaring at your male co-star for a majority of the show. And they tried to act like they were fine, like they weren’t absolutely and undoubtedly jealous of what they had just witnessed. 

“His hands did not need to be that low on her,” Sirius grumbled as they waited outside in the corridor for you. 

“Shut up,” James snapped at him. “I’m trying to forget.” 

“Pretty hard to forget when the whole bloody scene was—” 

However, a sharp jab to his ribs from Remus quickly drew both boys’ attention to you as you barrelled through the double doors, dropping your bag on the floor as you practically launched yourselves at your boyfriends. 

“You came!” you laughed happily as James caught you, squeezing you a little tighter than usual but you didn’t seem to question it.

“We wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Remus smiled softly at you as he handed you the bouquet of flowers, a smaller version of the multiple bouquets they had decorated your room with.

“You were fucking brilliant up there, love,” Sirius grinned at you as he pulled you towards him, pressing a sloppy kiss on your cheek. “Best bloody one up there.” 

“Oh please,” you laughed him off, ignoring the way your cheeks heated at the compliment. “The whole cast were amazing—” 

But you paused when you noticed James scoffing and rolling his eyes. You paused, your eyes narrowing at the boy who quickly realised you caught him and tried to flash you an innocent smile. But that only confirmed that he was hiding something. 

“James,” you said in a warning voice. 

“Yes, baby?” he answered, ignoring the looks Sirius and Remus were sending him.

“What are you not telling me?” you asked him. 

But the boy stayed silent. 

“Jamie,” you took a step towards him, your hands on his chest as you looked up at him with a pout and you knew you had him where you wanted him.

“Prongs,” Remus grumbled in a warning voice.

But you were looking up at him with wide eyes and his self-control was practically non-existent with you.

“His hands were all over you!” James eventually blurted out. 

“One job,” Sirius grumbled behind you.

Your brows furrowed together. “What?” 

“His hands were all over you!” James repeated with a slightly whiny sigh. “Only we should be able to touch you like that.” 

Realisation dawned on you and you couldn’t help but snort as you glanced at all three of your boys. “You’re all jealous.” 

“No, we aren’t—” 

“Yeah, we are.” 

Both boys glared at James.

“Awww, my boys,” you cooed with a smile before patting James’ chest. “Don’t worry, you’re the only boys for me. Three is more than enough, I don’t need four. Now, c’mon, you big babies. Let’s go home.”

.

[sabrgirl]

things that aren't inherently islamic but have improved my deen ♡

practising mindfulness

mindfulness meditation (focusing on my breathing for 10-15 minutes a day and bringing my attention back to my breath every time my mind wanders) helps with concentration in salah. through practising this every day, you're able to bring your attention back to the moment much better as you train your brain to do so with your breath.

helps to ground myself in the moment rather than stress about the future and past - allows me to surrender to Allah سُبْحَٰنَهُۥ وَتَعَٰلَىٰ much better and have tawakkul and sabr by learning to enjoy each day as it comes

journalling

shadow work

islam is fundamentally based on disciplining and self-regulating the nafs/ego. if you do not discipline your nafs, you will end up inclining towards evil: '‘And I do not hold my own self (nafs) to be free from weakness; for, the soul is surely prone to enjoin evil, except that whereon my Lord has mercy. Surely, my Lord is Most Forgiving, Merciful.’ (12:54). it was a saying by many elder islamic scholars and early muslims that 'he who knows himself knows His Lord'.

shadow work is when you address the hidden parts of yourself that we naturally and/or subconsciously suppress inside because we don't like them. the ego/nafs does this. you can find journal prompts on google, for eg 'shadow work prompts for anxious attachment' or 'shadow work prompts for male validation' etc - whatever it is you know is a problem about you. or, if you don't know where to start, just type in 'shadow work prompts' on google and you'll find something for you

through understanding in more detail what my ego does through addressing my fears in life and hardship/trauma i've experienced, i'm able to let go of those parts of myself, make an action plan to do things differently and become a better person. as a result, i'm able to make better decisions based off of righteousness and what pleases Allah, rather than acting based off of what scares my ego.

for eg - something happened when i was young that made me have an internal fear of being replaced which i had *no* idea i had. yet, i was acting on this fear subconciously, as i've always wanted to be original and i've had such distinct/original things that other people don't usually have so that i can stand out and it can become impossible to replace me. i was doing this so subconsiously but my nafs/ego was scared inside. when people asked me 'where is that from?' i wouldn't want them to know and would become very upset if they tried to 'copy me'. it wasn't until my best friend wanted to know where my perfume was from and i didn't want to tell her and ended up arguing with her that i realised i have a problem. i did shadow work and journalled about it to figure out why i'm acting this way. after doing this shadow work, it led me back to that big change in my life when i was a child and i realised that it hurt my ego a lot and resulted in me having a big fear of being replaced, with the outcome being i want to stand out and have things that are my own that it becomes so hard for someone to be me. after addressing and realising this, i've now let go of that fear and that part of me. i'm much more kinder to the creation now when they ask me where something i have/am wearing is from and, as i feel much more peaceful inside, i tell them where it's from with genuineness and sincerity. doing this can help with so many internal behaviours like jealousy, anxiety, being unhappy when other people get something you want, anger, attachments to people, love etc.

shadow work helps me get rid of attachments to worldly things and people (as the ego gets attached easily) after understanding why i am / why i act in a certain way too

gratitude

gratitude journalling helps me be thankful to Allah for what he has done for me. in hardship, i'm able to recognise the good that i still have. i've written more about how this has helped my deen here.

writing my feelings when i'm angry and/or upset

helps me process my emotions better and not act on my feelings by being rude to others in the moment

prevents me from backbiting and gossiping bc i just journal about how people have made me feel. backbiting is when you slander someone behind their back to someone else. through journalling, if i'm upset, i can write down my feelings, i can call people losers and get it all out of my system because it's just to myself, no one will read it. after this, why do i need to go to someone else and gossip? i don't need to. i've already released it all.

yoga and pilates

the physical body, mind and soul are all linked. as shown in the book, 'the philosophy of the teachings of islam':

this means that exercising our body affects our mind and soul too. science has shown that trauma and stress is stored in the shoulders and other parts of our body. having movement and especially exercises like yoga that focuses on stretching, flexibility, breathing and regulating blood flow in the body releases this emotional baggage.

islam is a religion of discipline that requires effort. when you feel good inside, you're more likely to be more disciplined and put in the effort, as opposed to when you feel bad inside which can often lead to laziness and fatigue. doing yoga and releasing my stress through exercising and stretching helps me feel positive and good inside, enabling me to fulfil my religious duties better with a positive mind and body. in islam, maintaining physical health is highly encouraged and our Beloved Prophet ﷺ emphasised having a strong and healthy body.

[fuckitupfelix]

hai… its me again BUT I HAVE ANOTHER SCENARIO IDEA ALSO IMMSORRY AHOUT MY OTHER ASK AUGHH IT WAS RIGHT IN UR RULES DUDE BUT BUT MY IDEA IS SCENARIO OF WHICHEVER HQ CHARACTER OF UR CHOOSING WITH AN S/O WHO HAS REALLY BAD MUSCLE STRAIN FROM PRACTISING VOLLEYBALL BUT REFUSE TO REST AND GAGAGAGA :3

DONT WORRY ABOUT IT BRO ITS ALL GOOD!!! IM GONNA COOK WITH THIS ONE TO MAKE UP FOR IT 🙏🙏 actually writing now hope this doesn't turn out bad..

hit it til it breaks...?

iwaizumi hajime x male reader

word count: 1k

iwaizumi's noticed that his boyfriend, seijoh's libero, hasn't been doing his best.

FEM ALIGNED DNI

iwaizumi has seen what pushing yourself past your limits can do to you. he's seen how oikawa always strived to be the best he could, sometimes pushing himself beyond exhaustion. it takes a huge toll on your body, so iwa promised himself he'd take care of himself, and it's not exactly a secret. he pushed everyone to do the same.

so it surprised iwaizumi when he noticed (name) acting different in the past few weeks. they were all very subtle changes; he would buy coffee in the morning more often, was a bit slower with receives, and a little more tired than he usually used to be.

he was pushing himself.

that's what iwaizumi thought initially. he's seen the signs in oikawa enough times to know the aftermath of straining yourself and making your body work overtime. he decides to wait a bit, see if (name) would mention anything by himself. he didn't.

"iwaaaa," (name) called, leaning over iwaizumi's desk. "can i borrow your homework answers?"

iwaizumi raised an eyebrow at that. "you didn't get time finish it last night?" he asked, pulling out the papers. he noticed his boyfriend's hesitation before he took the papers.

"nah, only got through half of it before i went to bed. my mom had me run errands after school. y'know, groceries 'n stuff." (name) said causally. he hunched over iwaizumi's desk to quickly write down the rest of his answers before passing the worksheets back to him. "thanks!"

"yeah, no problem. . . by the way—" but (name) had left before he could ask his question.

later that day, during practice, the team was doing a spiking drill. (name)'s receives were all flawless, but iwaizumi noticed the slight stiffness of his movements. how he grit his teeth for a spike that wasn't particularly hard to get. how his feet left the ground half a second too late. how his breathing grew ragged faster than usual.

'maybe im overthinking things,' and so he shook the thoughts away. he's used to having to deal with oikawa's bullshit. maybe its made him paranoid.

he went to spike, moving fluidly. the ball went a bit of a distance away from (name)'s direction— almost halfway across the court— but he still went for it. that's when it happened.

(name) reached, pushing himself to make contact with the ball, willing himself to. and he did. he sent it up nicely— a beautiful arc straight to the net. but his body had already exhausted itself. it was too much. his face contorted in pain as he felt his leg spasm. his body slammed against the floor, his shoulder connecting with the wood panels in an odd way. his body tumbled over itself like a ragdoll. (name) just laid there.

iwaizumi darted over to (name), eyes blown wide with panic. as gently as he could, he grabbed his shoulders, lifting him up. his grip was still tight.

"(name)? (name), are you okay?" he asked, sweat dripping from his forehead onto (name).

(name)'s eyes opened, face morphing into a frown. "yeah, shit. . . sorry," he mumbled. he tried to push himself to stand, but let out a sharp groan, falling back down to the floor.

the sound of shoes squeaking against the gym floors was faded as (name) and iwaizumi sat together in the club room. (name)'s leg was propped up on one of the chairs.

'how did this happen?'

sure, (name) was pushing himself more than usual, but that was because the inter-high preliminaries were right around the corner! he had to do his best so the team could go to nationals!

"hey." iwaizumi's voice drew (name) out of his thoughts. ". . . why didn't you stop?" he asked.

". . .what?"

"you were pushing yourself too hard, your body couldn't keep up, and now you can barely move your legs. why didn't you take a break?"

(name) tensed up at iwa's words. he frowned. "because i needed to do better. i needed more practice. i need to be better—"

"is this really better to you?" iwaizumi cut him off. (name) flinched at the volume. iwaizumi was pissed. "seriously, tell me. do you think pushing yourself this far helping anyone? we all need practice, but without breaks, you're doing more harm than good!"

"i know that!" (name) snaps. he glared down at the floor. his head was spinning and his legs were throbbing and he could feel his face grow hot, tears brimming in his eyes.

"i know it was stupid, i know i should have paid attention, i'm sorry. i just wanted us to do better! i wanted us to win." (name) managed. god, he knew he sounded pathetic, the way his throat closed up on him, making him sound all whiney. he rubbed the tears away with the back of his hands, his face scrunched up.

iwaizumi wasn't expecting that. he walks over, sitting next to his boyfriend. he wraps an arm around his shoulder, bringing (name) in to rest his head on his chest.

"hey, hey, it's okay," iwaizumi mumbled. he wasn't great at comforting people. he ran his hand along (name)'s back, rubbing circles. "c'mon. can you stand properly? i'm taking you home."

"what? come on, iwa, just give me a minute, i-i can make it for the rest of practice—"

"(name)." iwaizumi said sternly. "what you need is rest. you don't need to overexert your body anymore. and, you're banned from any type of practice until you get better." he adds.

"what?" (name) sputtered. "that's not fair!"

"of course it is, dumbass!" iwaizumi huffed, crossing his arms. "if you try to play volleyball injured, it'll get worse and take longer to heal. seriously. i don't like seeing you hurt," he adds, quieter that time.

a small smile grew on (name)'s face at that. "fine, but only cause i don't want you worrying," he chuckled. he leaned over to plant a small kiss on iwaizumi's cheek.

". . . okay, now help me up? please?"

AAAAJFHHH i hope that was okay (⁠>⁠▂⁠<⁠)!!! it was kind of angsty idk if you wanted that. . . lmk if i need to fix anything!!! requests are still open btw!!

divider by @/plutism !!

[homunculus-argument]

I don’t think native english-speakers in non-european countries really grasp how everyday needing to speak a second or a third language is in Europe. Languages are a school subject as much as biology and math, nobody really just goes out of their way to independently decide “hmm, I must learn a second language” and just goes on to download duolingo and be self-taught in spanish (okay, some people do, but that’s not the usual and standard way that people learn). The town I live in is historically bilingual - used to be majority swedish-speakers but now it’s about 50-50 as far as I know, and a generation ago you couldn’t really get by without speaking both. The books at the local library are mixed into the shelves, finnish and swedish ones on the same shelves, and sometimes there’s no copy of some book in both languages because it’s assumed that everyone speaks both on a passable level, at least enough to understand a book they really want to read.

 I’ve had natively swedish-speaking schoolmates in nursing school who have struggled to write essays in finnish because despite of being fluently bilingual in speech, their whole education until this point has been in swedish, and they’ve never really needed to write proper written finnish - which is a distinct different type of finnish than spoken finnish.

 The only native finns under 30 that I know that personally say they don’t speak any other language than finnish usually mean that they understand swedish and english badly, and aren’t confident in speaking it. Usually someone only speaking finnish is a clue that they’ve got some language-related learning disability. “I don’t speak english” is a similar statement as “I can’t do math”. There’s a problem of young chronically online finns losing vocabulary in finnish because they use english so much online that they’re not as practised in their native language.

 I didn’t go out of my way to become a polyglot who Speaks Six Languages, I picked french, russian and spanish in school because languages were easier for me than STEM subjects, and I’ve already forgotten most of what I learned. If I were to go out of my way to decide to start learning a non-germanic, non-latin language now, without school, I’d have no idea where to start nor would I ever become fluent in them. As a matter of fact, all I know how to say in any other ones than finnish, swedish or english are “I don’t speak [language] very well, I only understand it poorly.” It’s a school subject I learned and have forgotten most about.