#someone do this to me. i need to be in a bubble.

[justatypicalwizard]

Katsuki doesn't believe in love at first sight

Katsuki never believed in love at first sight. How could someone meet eyes and feel as if a thunder ruptured down from the skies and struck them? To love someone means to accept every part of them and to be able to incorporate them into your everyday life. It means building a brand new everyday with that person.

In order to do so you need to know a lot about them. Who they are, what are their plans for the future, what is their character and so on. Then you need to see if you are compatible in many spheres. You need to invite them to your friends group to see if it’ll hit off, you should try living together, they need to get to know your parents.

There are simply so many things to check off the list in order to be able to say you love someone. Otherwise it’s just empty words. I love you here and there. I love you for a week. I love you when you do as I please. Bullshit.

Mina constantly pestered Katsuki that his definition of love feels more like a chore or a job interview than like something a human would be able to accomplish. It wasn’t his fault he had some standards everyone else seemed to lack.

So even now Katsuki doesn’t like to admit that he fell in love at first sight, because it wasn’t the first time when he looked at you.

A quiet ping of his phone tore him out of his work. A new message from someone he didn’t recognise. Without much thought he opened the text.

[Hi, you may not know me but we go to the same lecture on Wednesday at 1 PM. I heard you have neat notes and wanted to ask if it wouldn’t be a problem if you send me today’s ones. I  got sick and couldn’t come and I wouldn’t want to fall behind with the material. Thanks!]

Geez, was there a longer way to type it? Couldn’t you just write: can you give me notes? On the other hand he always complained about people being douchebags.

Clicking onto your profile Katsuki saw a cheesy photo and a few posts from your daily life and vacations. Nothing much to be honest. Yet, he could vaguely remember your face around the people who entered the lecture hall. It won’t hurt to help.

[Sure]

[File attached]

Pushing his phone to the far end of his desk he went back to work. A few minutes later there was another quiet ding and this time Katsuki felt irritation bubbling inside him. It was you once again.

[Thank you so much!]

[I owe you]

[If you ever need anything feel free to write]

Whatever.

It only took a week for Katsuki to be indeed looking for help from someone. Once in a while, during his hero training, he was forced to pair up with someone in order to work on his rescue skills. Usually they’d use dummies but some fucktard in the course planning team decided that it would be most helpful if the students could train with a real human.

Normally Katsuki would ask Mina. He’d swallow his pride and force himself to listen to her babbling for two hours. Just to get it done. Unfortunately, Mina dumped him today, leaving only a [sorry, not feeling well, find someone else]. Damned flu season.

Who was he supposed to ask now, Denki?

As he scrolled down his chats, your profile pic flew by making Katsuki halt.

If you ever need anything feel free to write.

Screw it, you said it yourself, might as well find a person already and move on with his day. He typed a quick explanation and pushed the send button. The day was nearing the afternoon when you responded.

[Sure, if it’s two hours I can make it. Send me when and where I should be]

He shrugged and gave you the address for today's training.

In the early evening Katsuki found himself trotting towards his usual fighting ground absentmindedly. He was thinking about something related to work at Miruko’s when the idea flew out of his head. You were there, he could see you from afar, walking in circles in front of the main door.

Were you an idiot? It was the middle of winter and the early evening cold tore through layers of warm coats to sink into your bones. Why weren’t you entering the building to warm up a bit.

That’s why Katsuki is so stubborn about the whole love at first sight thing. It certainly wasn’t that exact moment when his heart skipped a beat because of you. You were shivering, hiding your chin and red tinted cheeks deeper into the collar of your winter coat. When you spotted him you reached out a gloved hand and waved.

“What the fuck are you doing outside, get in there or you’ll catch another cold.” He persisted, ushering you towards the entrance.

“Wow, good evening to you too.” You looked at him from under your woollen hat, surprised to get yelled at first thing you see him. Though, you did hear the upcoming pro-hero Dynamite, who went to the same lecture as you, was rather intense. “I don’t know, this place just looks fancy. Didn’t want to stand inside like a dumbass not knowing where to go.”

“So you stood outside like a dumbass not knowing where to go.”

“Exactly.”

He let you in and showed you around. After leaving your coat and getting a warm tea (his idea), you were ready to help with his training. The support students and university staff running around asked you to take off any unnecessary piece of clothing such as jewellery or sweaters that could get in the way. You gladly went through with their instructions.

You b-lined another student, a senior support course, who showed you the place where you’d be waiting to be rescued. The spacious arena was moulded into the shape of a city. Some buildings were fine, others rundown as if a villain attack rolled over them. There were paveways and roads, streetlamps and plastic trees. You even spotted a car, though it didn’t look like it could take off anytime soon. 

“It will look the same over and over. You sit or lie down in the place where I leave you and wait for your hero.” Your guide briefed the rules. “And every time pick out a different scenario and tie the band in the place that is put on it.” He handed you a dozen of ribbons with small notes attached to them. The first one you grabbed read: broken arm (tie around elbow).

“Sure.” You nodded your head and he left you on the second floor of a wannabe office building. There were a few chairs scattered around and a table that had a weird bite mark on it. You obediently wrapped the band around your arm and sat down on the floor, waiting.

You wondered how it’ll be, to get fake rescued. You were never in such a situation, always watching the villains from the comfort of your TV rather than first hand. What was Dynamite’s quirk? Suddenly you felt stupid for not knowing. On the other hand, you were never up to date with new heroes and all the popularity polls or colourful magazines. Guess you’d just have to wait and see.

Katsuki didn’t leave you for long. You were counting the pieces of shattered glass beneath your feet when a series of explosions passed beside the building. The small pieces you were meticulously adding shook and you let out a squeak when something heavy hit the wall behind you.

“Shut up, it's me.” Craning your neck, you saw Dynamite’s face, upside down, looking at you. He was halfway through the window. “What have you got?”

“God, you scared me.” You chuckled but quickly shut your mouth. The guide asked you to play the best victim you can. Victims shouldn’t laugh.

Dynamite hopped in front of you and crouched to read the note attached to your elbow. He mumbled something in the lines of fucking scenario and looked you straight in the eye.

“I’m gonna get you out of here.”

There wasn’t anything dramatic going on, it was even quiet outside save for a few shouts here and there. Yet, there was just something in a bulked man looking at you and promising you protection, one secured by his own arms. You felt like the guy from the firefighters video.

You couldn’t stop the giggle at the thought.

“What the fuck are you laughing at?” Dynamite spat.

“Nothing, nothing.” You shook your hands in front of your still laughing face. “Oh shit, this one’s supposed to be broken. Okay, just save me already.” You really fought with the snicker but the cheesiness and awkwardness of the whole situation had you in a chokehold.

“Whatever.” The hero sighed, visibly annoyed, and scooped you into his hands like a sack of potatoes. “I’ll need you to wrap your legs around me. Push the broken arm into my chest and use your healthy one to hold onto me.”

You did as instructed and glued yourself to him as tight as you could. He still held you with one of his arms and just when you started to wonder how the two of you would get down from the second floor he jumped out of the window.

A scream escaped your lips but it was muffled by a loud explosion.

For the next two hours you flew through the air in Dynamite’s hands over and over again. He held you in different ways, depending on your supposed injury, but every time you landed into the safe zone, you realised you were the first or nearly the first. That guy was quick like hell.

The last scenario rolled over and it was a panic attack. You were supposed to be physically fine but otherwise unresponsive and difficult to work with due to your shock. Dynamite tried to take extra steps to calm you down, speaking about how he’ll take you to safety and how it will all be over in a second. It looked like he was having a hard time.

“I need to touch you to take you somewhere safe.” He said, wrapping one of his hands around you.

When you were both at the safe zone, with cardboard paramedics to take care of you, Dynamite did something different. Instead of leaving you in the place where the group of injured would grow, he carried you straight to the ambulance.

“She has a panic attack.” He said to the empty fake vehicle and you just couldn’t take any more of it. You erupted in a fit of laughter. Your body shook in his hands and you gripped the X on his uniform to steady yourself. “What the fuck?”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” You tried to explain but the laughter squeezed your throat. “I’m a shitty actor.”

“I see that.” Dynamite grumbled.

“Do you really need to talk to cardboard people and empty vehicles for two hours every week?” You asked, wiping a tear from your cheek.

“Is it really that fucking funny?”

“No, no! I get it.” You finally calmed down, letting go of the front of his costume. “It’s not that funny, maybe a bit but not that much. I think I’m just in a good mood.” You shrug your shoulders. “It was fun, flying with you, like a free rollercoaster ride.” You gave him a big, big smile. A big genuine smile. A big, genuine, lovely smile, with your eyes closed and teeth out and cheeks tinted pink.

People are stupid. That’s what Katsuki thinks. It’s not love at first sight. It’s love because of a single sight.

Even though Katsuki came to some fundamental conclusions in the topic of love he would get all defensive and intense when he was asked about how the two of you met. It would sound way better if he could say the two of you met, then started to talk more, then went on a date and agreed to meet each other and so on. He just felt so stupid, so awkward and silly when he had to admit that all it took for you was a single smile to make his heart skip a beat.

The worst part? It felt a little pathetic honestly, as if people never smiled at him, but truthly they didn’t, not like that. Not like you.

Katsuki still doesn’t believe in love at first sight. Yet, every other piece of his meticulously calculated equation of love was torn down and rewritten, all of which he gladly took.

[citrustan]

dating girl (jjk)

pairing: jungkook x reader

summary: you try to convince yourself that you're really okay with 'casually dating' your crush.

genre: college au, fwb kinda thing but more than friends ygm? angst!

"Are they allowed to cancel an entire day at college? That can't be good for anyone..." Your mother ponders out loud as you walk around the city hand-in-hand.

"There's not much you can do if someone decides to paint over every projector lens on campus." You nod.

"Lucky for me, I get to spend time with my little baby," she nuzzles her nose into your hair, squeezing you in a side-hug, "Still can't believe we have to schedule our hangouts now."

"Yeah, there's that..." You smile half-heartedly.

You stop near a flower stall, taking in the hustle and bustle of the city. It's especially crowded because of your university abruptly cancelling a bunch of classes.

After your day had freed up unexpectedly, you had invited your sorta but not really boyfriend, Jungkook, to go cafe hopping to find where all the good teas are because you knew he'd bee available. But he never responded.

So your mood has been a bit damp all day.

You had just stepped out of this store that sold handmade sweaters and yarn balls. Not even a good shopping spree could lift your spirits.

What definately doesn't help is randomly seeing said sorta but not really boyfriend who didn't respond to your texts out and about with some leggy blonde girl.

You've never seen her around.

Not that you know every single person on campus, but if they've crossed Jungkook's path, you know them.

They're dining together al fresco, at one of the cafes you had literally listed in your text to Jungkook.

Talk about a slap in your face.

For a second, you think she might just be his sister or something.

That thought bubble is quickly shot at with a razor sharp arrow when you see him kiss her knuckles.

Your eyes involuntary darken, and your mouth forms a pout. The kind one has when they're trying to hold back a cry or a sob.

All the while, your mother had talked about your grandparents' separation, the local diner having caught fire, and matching mother and daughter shoes she had bought for your birthday.

You were listening passively so you didn't quite catch everything.

"You're still seeing him, aren't you?" She tilted her head in confusion.

When your mother notices the look on your face, she frowns, following the line of your vision.

At spotting Jungkook and mystery girl, she gasps angrily, "Oh, no, he sucks." She turns back to you, "Honey, I'm so sorry."

"No, mom, this is normal," you smile weakly, "And it's okay."

"Yes." You nod, "I am."

"But then he's there," she points at the pair with her chin, "seeing her. How's that okay?"

"It just is, mom! Really," you attempt to convince your mother (and yourself) that you were 100% fine with witnessing Jungkook out with other women. "We're keeping things casual. Very... casual."

"And that's a mutual decision?" She confirms.

"We both agreed." You concur.

Your mother's still unsure about your choices. "Well. Okay then."

You glance at Jungkook and mystery girl one last time.

The picture isn't pretty. He's leaning into her ear and has his large hand placed over her bare thigh as she caressed his arm with her much smaller hand, thoroughly enjoying his attention.

Your mother watches your expression go stiff, "So, how does this work?"

Snapping you out of your daze, she pushes a few strands of hair away from your eyes.

When you frown at her she sighs, "Sorry..."

"Oh. Um..." You exhale, "Well, we see each other and we see other people, and that's that. We're cas-" - "Yeah, casual, I heard." Your mother interrupts your blabber.

"It's ok." You look down at your feet, kicking a few stray pebbles out of the way.

"I just--- I thought you guys were sleeping together." She blurts.

"Mom!" You exclaim, looking around to see if anyone had heard her, "It's not that big of a deal. I want this too. And I need to learn to date too."

Again, you try to ease your mind about your decision.

You lightly cringe and look around, "Uh... Nobody yet. But this guy from one of my extras--- his name's Hoseok but we call him Hobi, or Hoba, depending on how close you are to him--- anyway, he asked me out to a halloween theme party next week."

"So who else are you dating?" She asks pointedly.

This is suddenly getting very exhausting.

Your mother gives you a knowing look, deciding to play along anyway, "Oh! You've never mentioned him before."

"Mhm. Because it's new." You hunch your shoulders nervously.

The party was hosted by the student body to raise funds for, you don't know, collegiate stuff.

You had imagined going with Jungkook, with matching Dentist and Tooth Fairy couple costumes. But he hadn't asked you yet and you definitely weren't going to bring it up first.

Maybe you can do the look with Hoseok instead.

It's less than a week away, so you're not expecting anything from him either. He probably already has another date lined up.

You wonder if it's the blonde he's with now.

"So, are you gonna do it?"

"Do what?" Was she in your head?

"Go with Hobi or Hoba." She makes air quotations for 'Hobi or Hoba.'

"Oh, yeah. Yep. Definitely." Suddenly remembering, you add, "Oh and can you make me my costume? I want to be the Tooth Fairy?" You softly ask her, knowing it's a little last minute, but also knowing she wouldn't deny you.

"Why of course! Does... Hobi need a costume too?" She asks carefully.

"Oh, no. Probably not." Well, you don't know. You don't know if his offer even stands now and you might end up not going at all.

Your mother rubs your shoulder, "Ask him and let me know, 'kay?"

You force out an uncomfortable smile and nod, "Thanks."

Although your mother's not convinced, she decides to drop the topic all together.

"Well, that's good," she smiles down at you warmly, "Do you want to get that sweater exchanged?"

It was vague, but you appreciated her attempt either way.

"Mhm. Back to the store we go." You narrate with an airy laugh.

Your mother was in the lead, already making her way to the store you had just walked out of.

Once again, your gaze falls on Jungkook and his date, and to your surprise he was staring right back at you.

You want to give him a little smile. To show him you're unbothered. But you couldn't seem to force one out this time.

So you settle with giving him a small wave, which he returns, mirroring your expression.

His date follows his line of sight and spots you too, giving you a tight smile. It's not passive aggressive, just... decent. Not polite either. But why should she be?

Jungkook blinks at you as you hurriedly leave trying to keep up with your mother.

Maybe you should focus on Hoseok for now.

note: nobody asked for this but i was feeling a little silly :p needed some angsty ouchie with the possibility of a favourable conclusion so i indulged!

hey bonus points if you can tell what inspired this! and if you read all this lmk what you think regardless :D

[brunchable]

Winter Prince, Part One: I Was Enchated To Meet You

Pairings: Prince, Soon to be King AU Bucky Barnes x Out of place, Princess Reader Words: 4.5K Themes: Regency Period AU, Instant attraction, Arranged Marriage, Eventual Smut. Summary: Trapped in the palace gardens, Y/N’s escape attempt is interrupted by a mysterious charming man who offers to help. Little does she know, the man she’s avoiding is the one lifting her over the wall. A/N: You're damn right I took inspiration to Queen Charlotte. Let's call this a "retelling" Bucky will still have his metal arm in this to keep it interesting.

The sound of hooves echoed in the distance, the rhythmic gallop of a horse cutting through the stillness of the early morning. You clutched your dress tighter around you, the fabric tangled in your fingers as you stood before the towering stone wall, your heart pounding. You were almost free—almost—but the moment stretched painfully, as if the world itself held its breath with you.

You glanced over your shoulder, the imposing silhouette of the palace barely visible through the mist. It loomed behind you, a symbol of everything you were bound to—everything you were trying to escape.

Your breath hitched as the soft thudding of hooves grew louder, and you turned back to the wall. Climbing it had seemed easy in the few moments of adrenaline-fueled desperation, but now, standing before it, you realized how futile it was. You couldn’t do it. You couldn’t scale the stone, couldn’t flee the life that had been thrust upon you.

The horse slowed, and you heard someone dismount, the creak of leather and the solid thud of boots hitting the ground. Your fingers trembled as you placed them against the wall, ready to make one final, frantic attempt. But before you could take another step, his voice cut through the mist.

“Running away?”

You froze, heat rushing to your cheeks. His tone wasn’t harsh, nor was it amused—just… curious, and that only annoyed you more. 

Slowly, you turned toward the voice, expecting to see one of the palace guards ready to drag you back inside. Instead, a man stood before you, taller than you had imagined, with dark hair tousled by the wind, his sharp features softened by the morning light. He was dressed in simple riding attire, a cloak draped over his broad shoulders, but there was an elegance about him. Certainly not a guard, then?

“Are you going to stop me?” you asked, your voice breathless, daring as your fingers tightened against the stone. Your heartbeat thundered in your ears.

He chuckled softly, and the sound sent a strange warmth curling through you. “I don’t know,” he mused, a playful glint in his eyes as he stepped closer, “Should I? You seem to be doing a fine job of stopping yourself.”

Your mouth parted in disbelief, heat rising to your face again. “Excuse me?”

He nodded at the wall. “Well, you don’t exactly look like you’re about to make it over, do you?”

You scowled, crossing your arms over your chest. “I didn’t ask for your commentary.”

The man raised a brow, his lips twitching into a smile. “I’m just saying, climbing walls isn’t for everyone. Especially not someone in a gown.”

“I wasn’t aware I needed your approval to escape,” you shot back, glancing at the wall again and then back at him, frustration bubbling inside you. “Why don’t you just go about your business and let me fail in peace?”

His grin widened, and he crossed his arms, his posture too relaxed for someone who’d just found a would-be escapee. 

“I could help you.”

You blinked at him, caught off guard by the offer. “Help me?” you echoed, suspicion lacing your words. “Why would you help me?”

“Maybe I like seeing people succeed at impossible things,” he teased, the smirk never leaving his face. “Or maybe I’m just curious to see how far you’ll get.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, crossing your arms tighter. “I don’t trust you.”

“Smart,” he said with a laugh. “But if you want to get over that wall, you’re going to need more than distrust.”

You looked up at the towering stones again, dread gnawing at you. He was right, as irritating as that was. But still…

“And what do you get out of this, then?” you asked, glancing at him warily.

He leaned casually against the wall, watching you intently. “A conversation,” he said, his voice suddenly softer, less teasing. “Tell me why you’re running.”

You scowled at him, the heat rising in your cheeks again, and turned your gaze back to the wall. Frustration bubbled inside you, and you began pacing, sizing up the towering stones as if staring at them hard enough would magically make them easier to climb.

“I don’t need your help,” you muttered under your breath, though you weren’t sure if you were talking to him or the wall at this point. 

You glanced back up at the impossible height of the stone barrier, chewing on your lip as you tried to mentally map out some kind of strategy—any way to make it work. You huffed, planting your hands on your hips, and shifted from foot to foot, casting the man a glare every now and then. He just stood there, arms crossed, watching you with an amused expression, as if you were the most entertaining thing he’d seen in a long time.

After a few moments of pacing and staring—then pacing some more—you let out an exasperated sigh and kicked a small stone out of your path, turning back to face him, arms crossed.

“Well?” you asked, your voice a little more breathless than you’d have liked. “What’s so funny?”

He shook his head, but the grin he was trying to hide betrayed him. 

“Nothing,” he said, the words dripping with humor. “Just… you look like you’re trying to intimidate the wall into letting you pass.”

You glared at him, heat flooding your cheeks. “Maybe I am. Maybe it’ll work.”

His chuckle turned into full-blown laughter, and the sound of it—rich and genuine—sent a strange warmth curling through you, despite your annoyance. He had that kind of laugh that you hated admitting was contagious, and you found your lips twitching upward before you could stop yourself.

“I’m serious!” you huffed, though the playful tone was creeping into your own voice.

He rubbed a hand over his jaw, still chuckling softly as he shook his head. “You’re something else, you know that?”

You narrowed your eyes at him, a mix of frustration and embarrassment bubbling up inside you, but you couldn’t help the flutter in your chest at the way he looked at you.

“Are you just going to laugh at me the whole time, or are you actually going to help?”

He raised his hands in surrender, his grin still firmly in place. “Alright, alright. I’ll help.” 

He took a step closer, the playfulness still in his eyes as he lowered his voice, leaning just a fraction nearer. “But only because I want to see how this goes.”

“Fine,” you muttered, stepping back toward the wall. “Just… don’t get in the way.”

Behind you, you could hear him chuckling softly to himself again, and though it made your frustration bubble over, there was something undeniably magnetic about the way he seemed to find you so… endearing.

And as you started pacing again, casting glances at the wall, trying to figure out just how on earth you’d manage to get over it, you caught him out of the corner of your eye—his gaze still fixed on you, the smile never leaving his face.

You huffed to yourself, kicking at another stone. Of course, the man who found you trying to escape was now laughing at you, and somehow, it didn’t feel as awful as it should.

“How long will you keep pacing around like that?” 

“I’m not pacing,” you grumbled, though you absolutely were.

“Oh, you are,” he countered with a grin. “You’re doing laps. Like maybe if you circle it enough, the wall will shrink. Or get tired of you and let you through.”

Your jaw tightened as heat rose to your cheeks. “I’m sizing it up,” you snapped, planting your hands on your hips as you glanced back at the wall, your frustration bubbling over.

He wasn’t even trying to hide how much he was enjoying this, and it only made your chest tighten with frustration. Why did he have to look so effortlessly amused by your struggle?

“Well?” you demanded, trying to maintain some semblance of authority in the situation. “You know you’re actually not helping?”

“Forgive me, but watching you intimidate the wall might be the most entertaining thing I’ve seen all week.”

You let out an exasperated huff, resisting the urge to stomp your foot in frustration. “I wasn’t intimidating it, I was—”

He cut you off with a light chuckle, waving his hand dismissively. “Sizing it up. Right.”

You were too stunned to respond. The man was infuriating, no question about it, but the warmth in his voice, the look in his eyes—there was something about him that softened the edges of your frustration, made it feel less like a confrontation and more like… banter.

You shook your head, forcing yourself to focus. No, this was not the time to get distracted by some smug, arrogant man who was finding far too much joy in your struggle. You turned back to the wall, determination flaring inside you.

“If you’re going to help, do it already,” you muttered, planting your hands on your hips again.

“Let’s see how far you can get with a little help.” he said, his voice low and teasing.

He stopped in front of you, eyes gleaming with amusement as he glanced at the towering wall. “You ready?”

You crossed your arms, lifting an eyebrow at him. “Do I have a choice?”

He smirked, leaning down slightly. “Not if you want to get over that wall today.”

You eyed him warily, but there was something in his smile, something disarmingly warm beneath all that arrogance. Before you could talk yourself out of it, you sighed and placed your hand in his.

His grip was firm, strong, and you felt the warmth of his palm seep into your skin as he stepped even closer. The flutter in your chest deepened, but you swallowed it down, ignoring the strange thrill of having him so near.

“Alright,” he said, crouching slightly and motioning toward his shoulders, “Put your foot here, and I’ll lift you up.”

You blinked at him, a sudden rush of heat flooding your face. Wait, what?

“I’m going to boost you over,” he explained, clearly amused at your hesitation. “Unless you’d rather keep pacing around?”

You huffed, your cheeks burning. 

“Fine,” you muttered, carefully lifting your foot toward his shoulder. “But—” You paused, biting your lip as another wave of heat rushed through you. “Don’t look up.”

His grin widened, but he managed to keep his voice steady. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

You gave him a skeptical look, your heart thudding loudly in your ears as you gingerly placed your foot on his shoulder. 

“Don’t look up,” you reminded him, your voice sharper, but the flush in your cheeks was impossible to ignore.

“I heard you the first time,” he chuckled softly, keeping his gaze firmly straight ahead.

He hoisted you up easily, his hands firm at your waist, but as soon as you tried to gain some leverage, the fabric of your gown bunched awkwardly around your legs, trapping you mid-air. Your heart pounded as you wobbled, your foot slipping slightly, and for a moment you flailed, trying to catch your balance. The wall still seemed impossibly high, and every move made your gown twist tighter around you, making it harder to gain any footing.

“Careful,” He grunted, steadying you with his grip. “Got it?”

You didn’t. Not at all.

“This is ridiculous,” you muttered, your voice strained with effort as you tried to move again. The fabric pulled tighter around your legs, making it impossible to lift yourself further. “This dress—how do women escape anything in these things?”

He laughed, and you could feel the vibrations of it under your hands. 

“You’re doing great,” he teased, clearly biting back more laughter. “But if you keep kicking like that, I might not be able to hold you much longer.”

You shot him a glare over your shoulder, heat flooding your face. “This isn’t funny!”

“Oh, it’s very funny from down here,” he said, still chuckling, though his grip on your waist stayed steady.

Another attempt to maneuver only resulted in more tangled fabric. You groaned, realizing that this wasn’t going to work. No matter how hard you tried, the dress wouldn’t let you lift your legs high enough to get over the wall.

“Alright, alright,” you sighed, feeling thoroughly embarrassed as you gave up. “Put me down.”

“You sure? You were making great progress,” he teased, but his hands were already lowering you back down to the ground, the warmth of his touch lingering even as your feet found solid ground again.

As soon as you stood, you stepped back, brushing dirt from your gown and trying to ignore the way your heart still raced, both from the failed climb and from how close he had been.

“Well,” you muttered, more to yourself than to him, “that was a disaster.”

He leaned back on his heels, his grin wide and playful. “Not a total disaster. I got a front-row seat to the best entertainment in town.”

You crossed your arms over your chest, glaring at him, though the blush creeping up your neck betrayed how flustered you were. 

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

He chuckled again, crossing his arms to mirror you. “Can’t say it’s not entertaining.”

You sighed and looked around, now you owed him an explanation as to why you’re trying to run away.

“I don’t want to marry a stranger,” you whispered, surprising even yourself with the truth. “I don’t want to be locked away in that palace for the rest of my life, tied to someone I’ve never met.”

He didn’t speak for a second, his expression softening as he studied you. Then, in a gentle tone, he asked, “And who is this stranger you’re so desperate to avoid?”

You sighed, casting a quick glance around as if the mist might swallow you whole. 

“Prince James,” you admitted quietly, your words barely louder than the mist. “I’ve never seen him, never even heard his voice. I don’t know if he’s kind or cruel, if he’s young or old. For all I know, he could be—”

“Hideous?” the man supplied, a glimmer of amusement flickering in his eyes again.

You gave a small, reluctant smile despite yourself. “Or snotty. Cold. Aloof. Traits that I most certainly cannot stand nor find attractive.”

The man chuckled softly, shaking his head as he took a step closer. “Snotty, huh?”

“Well, royalty,” you said, with a little shrug. “They tend to be.”

He studied you again, something like amusement flickering across his face, but there was no mockery in it, just something warm and knowing. 

“You could say I’ve met him a time or two.”

Your brows furrowed at his familiarity with the prince. “Then what’s he like?” you asked, searching his expression for any hint of truth. “Is he… good?”

He seemed to consider your question, his gaze turning thoughtful as though weighing each word. “He’s... complicated,” he finally said, his voice softer, almost wistful. “Not the man people expect him to be.”

You frowned and sarcastically you said, “That’s really comforting.”

But before he could answer, a loud shout echoed from the palace grounds, and you both turned, startled. Your stomach lurched in panic.

“I need to go,” you whispered frantically, your pulse racing as you prepared to bolt.

His hand caught yours before you could move, the warmth of his skin against yours sending a jolt of something startling through you. You looked up at him, breathless.

“I could still help you,” he murmured, his thumb brushing the back of your hand. His eyes held yours, deep and unreadable, as though he were making a decision only he could understand.

But there was something in his gaze now, something almost… regretful. 

“Speak what you need to say.” you whispered, the realization dawning on you in slow, staggering pieces.

He didn’t answer immediately, his eyes searching yours like he could read the thoughts swirling in your head. He let out a soft sigh and tilted his head, a playful sparkle returning to his eyes.

“What if…” he began, his voice low, “what if the prince isn’t some distant, unfeeling man? What if he’s just a person who hates the cage he’s been placed in as much as you do?”

You blinked, confusion tightening your chest. “What are you talking about?”

He took a step closer, his thumb still grazing the back of your hand, sending that maddening warmth through you. “What if Prince James isn’t the man people whisper about? What if he’s spent his whole life wondering if anyone would see him instead of the title?”

Your breath caught in your throat. The weight of his words settled like stones in your chest, and you stared at him, trying to make sense of what he was saying. “Why would he care? He’s a prince—soon to be King. He’s powerful, he has everything.”

He gave a small, almost sad smile. “What if the power isn’t worth much if it means living a life filled with expectations instead of choices?”

You frowned, shaking your head. “But he could change things if he wanted to.”

James—because you were sure of it now, he wasn’t just some rider—tilted his head, amusement playing at the corners of his mouth. “What if it’s not that simple? What if the weight of the crown is heavier than it looks?”

Your heart raced as the pieces slowly started to click together. He was still toying with you, but now there was a seriousness beneath it, something deeper. You could see the flicker of emotion behind his blue eyes, like he was daring you to understand.

“What if…” he continued, leaning in slightly, his voice dropping to a whisper, “the prince is standing right in front of you, hoping you’ll see him?”

The world tilted beneath you. The way he spoke, the familiarity in his tone, the way he carried himself… it all made sense now. And suddenly, the puzzle that had been scattered before you came together in a startling rush of clarity.

“You’re—” The words stuck in your throat as your heart pounded harder, realization hitting you with full force. “You’re Prince James.”

He smiled, a mixture of apology and relief in his expression. “I suppose I am.”

Your mind reeled, his confession crashing over you cold bucket of water. Prince James. The man you had been speaking to, was the very one you were trying to escape. The very one you had feared. Your heart pounded, your pulse a frantic beat in your ears as you looked up at him—really looked at him—for the first time.

Prince James. "Hello, Y/N." He smiled earnestly, taking your breath away.

You took a step back, your breath hitching in your throat as your gaze swept over him. The dark hair tousled by the morning breeze, the sharp features softened by the mist, the broad shoulders, the casual strength in the way he stood. How had you not realized before? How had you missed it?

Your mouth opened, but no words came. You were speechless. Absolutely, utterly speechless.

His lips twitched in that same infuriating, knowing half-smile, the one that had seemed so harmless before but now felt charged with meaning. 

“I suppose I’m not what you were expecting,” he murmured, his voice low, almost apologetic.

You shook your head, still trying to find your voice, but it was like the words had fled, leaving only the rush of your thoughts, jumbled wildly together. He’s the prince. The one you had dreaded. The one you had tried so hard to avoid.

But he wasn’t at all what you imagined. He wasn’t cold, or distant, or cruel. He was standing here, watching you, his expression open, almost vulnerable, as if he was waiting for your reaction, for you to decide what came next.

Your eyes darted over him again, taking in every detail as if seeing him for the first time—the way his cloak clung to his broad frame, the way his eyes, intense and unwavering, seemed to burn through every wall you'd built around yourself.

And then the shouts echoed again, louder this time, and your stomach clenched with a fresh wave of panic. The palace. The guards. They were looking for you.

His gaze flickered toward the sound, the slightest crease forming between his brows before his eyes were back on you, sharp and unrelenting.

“You need to go,” he said, voice low but urgent. Like the moment itself was slipping away.

“I—” You swallowed hard, your words tangled with the storm raging inside you. You—him—everything felt too much, too fast.

He stepped closer, his hand lifting as if to touch you—like he had to—like he needed to—but stopped just short, his fingers lingering in the air, his breath mingling with yours. 

“I felt the same,” he said, his words rushing out, fierce, quiet. “Curious about you. Wondering if you were like the rest of them, if you were cold, detached. Wondering if you were trapped like me.”

You blinked, caught off guard, your pulse roaring in your ears. What?

“I was afraid,” he continued, his eyes searing into yours. “Afraid you were someone I wouldn’t want to know. Someone I couldn’t stand to look at. I was afraid of you.”

His words hit you like a thunderclap, stealing your breath, your heart stumbling in your chest.

“But gods,” he breathed, his voice dropping to a whisper, “I was wrong.”

You stared at him, utterly speechless, the air thick between you. Your heart was pounding so hard you were sure he could hear it.

He took another step closer, his eyes wild, full of something unnameable. “You’re everything I didn’t dare to hope for. You’re bold, you’re brave, and you’re—” His voice broke off, and you watched as his gaze dropped to your lips, then snapped back to your eyes, something fierce and desperate flickering there.

You couldn’t breathe. You couldn’t think. His words slammed into you, your mind reeling, your heart racing as his admission hung between you, fragile and powerful all at once.

The shouts echoed again, and your body jolted with the reminder of reality crashing back in.

“I need to go,” you whispered, your voice trembling as the world swirled around you.

But before you could move, his hand finally touched yours—fingers brushing against yours, sending a spark through your skin that made you freeze.

“I was wrong about you,” he murmured, his gaze locking with yours, eyes blazing with a heat that made you want to lean into him, to forget the world. “So wrong.”

You swallowed, every nerve in your body alive, humming. His hand slid up, cradling your wrist, his thumb brushing the delicate skin, like he couldn’t stop touching you. 

“Go,” he whispered, his voice barely more than a breath. “Go before I make you stay.”

Your feet refused to move, your heart slamming against your ribs. But you nodded, turning to slip back toward the palace, your body buzzing with his words, the intensity of his gaze.

But before you could disappear into the shadows, you heard him call out—his voice loud, clear, commanding.

You froze, crouching behind the tall hedge, heart hammering against your ribs as you peered through the mist. The guards had gathered around him now, their faces tense with focus as James, with that steady authority in his voice, pointed them in the wrong direction.

“She went the other way—toward the east gate!” His voice was sure, a lie delivered with the ease of someone accustomed to being obeyed. And just like that, the guards nodded, falling in line with his instructions as they turned, their heavy footsteps fading in the opposite direction.

Your pulse thrummed in your ears as you watched them leave, your body still coiled with tension, waiting for something to go wrong. But James remained still, standing tall as the mist curled around him, his face calm, unreadable. And when the last of the guards disappeared into the distance, he did something that made your breath catch.

He glanced back over his shoulder—directly at where you were hiding.

His gaze found yours through the thick hedges, that same intense, burning look he had given you earlier, and for a brief moment, the world stood still. He didn’t move, didn’t say anything, but his eyes held yours with a weight that made it hard to breathe, the unspoken connection between you hanging in the air.

Then, with a slow nod—so subtle you almost missed it—he turned, walking away, his figure swallowed by the swirling mist.

You exhaled, finally letting out the breath you’d been holding. Your entire body was trembling, your mind reeling from everything that had just happened. He had protected you.

Prince James, had lied for you, bought you time, and now the palace loomed ahead, quiet, waiting. Your fingers tightened around the fabric of your gown as you stood up, pressing yourself against the stone wall, making your way back toward the safety of the palace.

You moved silently, your steps soft against the cobblestone as you slipped through the garden paths, every corner casting long shadows. You had to be careful. You couldn’t risk being caught now.

Reaching the palace doors, you hesitated for a moment, glancing back toward the mist-shrouded garden. James was gone now, but his presence lingered, the promise of his words still echoing in your mind.

With one last breath, you pulled open the door, slipping inside the familiar corridors of the palace, the warmth of its stone walls closing in around you. It was quiet here, the rest of the palace still asleep, unaware of the storm that had passed just outside its walls.

As you hurried back to your chambers, your heart finally began to slow, but your mind buzzed with everything that had just unfolded. James hadn’t just protected you; he had seen you—really seen you. And now, there was no denying it.

You weren’t running from him anymore.

You were walking straight back to him.

[rosenclaws]

Hello😸 I saw that you have requests open and I’m still on that Leopold high‼️

So, could I request a little something where Leo is jealous of the attention Reader is getting and tries to get their attention back on him?

(I’d prefer if Reader was gender neutral but fem is fine too‼️)

a/n: omg jealous leo is sooo cute. That scene in the movie where he gets jealous of Kate's boss is too good. I took a lot of inspiration from that. Also there is a lot of wine talk in this and I do not know anything about wine so don't come for me for incorrect wine information okay

warnings: no pronouns used for the reader, jealous leo, asshole corporate guy

Leopold has been exposed to many unbelievable things in the past year. Time travel, television, cell phones, and the worst of all. Frozen food trays. However what Leopold isn’t used to is this feeling twisting and turning inside of his stomach. Jealously. The collar of his shirt starts to itch uncomfortably, not quite used to the wear of the 21st century. Business casual as you had called it.

He had been to many parties back in his time but they were nothing like they are now. This was no party to him. As you had explained they were more for celebrating themselves and showing off how successful the company. Still what kind of boyfriend would he be if he didn't accompany you. Ever the gentleman he is as he leads you through the crowd of people.

He had offered to get drinks as you go and mingle. With two glasses of wine in his hands he made his way back to you. Only to find you trapped in a conversation with a man he had never heard of before. He can feel his jaw clench as he slides right next to you. Handing you your drink and pressing a kiss to your forehead.

"Oh Leopold this is Mason," Leopold's eyes narrow as he notices Mason look him up and down, a smug look in his eye.

"You're the butter commercial guy." Mason says with a smirk. You feel Leopold tense slightly but he flashes his smile and reaches his hand out.

"Yes, and you are?" Leopold grips his hand a little too tight as they shake hands. You place your hand on Leopold's arm as you butt back into the conversation.

"He's new-"

"I'm the new director of marketing." He cuts you off and Leopold feels anger bubbling inside of him. Before either of you or Leopold could speak he starts talking.

Dominating the conversation with stories of how successful he's been and all the wonderful things he's done. He can't help but feel the jealously build in his gut. Your attention is on this arrogant man who is clearly trying to court you despite Leopold standing right next to you.

"You know, to be in marketing you need to have a certain, charisma about you." He glances over at you and flashes a smile. He takes a sip of his champagne and grimaces.

"Of course they got the cheap stuff, back home I have bottles of the finest wine. A bottle of champagne called La Romanée from 1873. Expensive yes but I would be happy to share. Maybe come back to my place and I'll show you." Leopold chuckles which makes Mason look to him.

"Something funny?" Leopold looks at him with a sudden confidence.

"No no. Just that from my memory that wine is from 1870 and it's pinot noir, not a champagne." Leopold raises an eyebrow as Mason starts to stammer.

"I think you've got your information wrong. My guy is a very reputable wine seller." He has a false confidence about him that Leopold can see right through. He grins, taking a sip of his own wine. He knows he isn't.

"I would contact your merchant, but perhaps I am mistaken." The damage is done as Mason starts to turn red from anger. Leopold takes a step closer. He's a polite man but he even he has his limits.

"I must add, that attempting to court someone who is already taken really is in poor taste. Simply put, you're making a fool of yourself." Mason mumbles something under his breath before stalking away in defeat. You finally let out the laugh that you had been holding in. Relieved that you were finally alone with Leo for the night.

"What a dick." You huff as pull Leopold to the side of the room.

"Didn't think you were the jealous type." You tease as Leopold starts to calm down. He sees Mason go over to what appeared to be a very important group of people. A sense of guilt washes over him. An egotistical, dick as you put it, he may be but he was still an important figure at your company.

"Forgive me if I have overstepped my place. I fear that jealously had blinded me and I acted out of line." You place your hand on top of his, gently squeezing his hand.

"You didn't, he's your typical asshole corporate higher up. It was nice seeing someone put him in his place a little." Also seeing him jealous was hot. But you'll tell him that later. You lean in and kiss him on the cheek.

"How do you know so much about wine?" He shrugs and places his now empty glass down.

"I visited Bordeaux in my youth before moving to New York." You stare at him in awe, his life before he met you was constantly surprising you.

"I want to hear more." You slowly start dragging him to the exit.

"Let's ditch this party and go home. I have a bottle of wine I got for 20 bucks that I'd be happy to share." You say, mocking the words that Mason had said to you. Leopold laughs as he places a hand on your back, guiding you away from the party.

"It's no fancy wine from France but I hope it will do." Once you're clear of the door he gently presses you against the wall. Capturing your lips in a gentle kiss.

"The best wine is any I get to share with you." He says sincerely, brushing his thumb across your lips.

He kisses you again. The sound of footsteps pass by but he could care less. A small part of him wanting to show that you are his and he is yours. He can't help it. Anyone with you in their life would feel the same way. Too bad for them, your his now.

His and no one else's.

[inqilabi]

Another thing that I have observed over the years is that, not a lot of people are good at relationships. As in they don't know the fundamentals of a good relationship. And with that it follows, that for some people this comes naturally. And for some people this is learned.

A lot of people don't seem to be good at communicating in relationships. Meaning that they will let a thing that bothered them fester until it grows into resentment. And they bring it up once the resentment is bubbling. And obviously, because it's pent up, when do they do bring it up, it's in an explosive manner.

So everyone at some point learns that relationships are about communication. And they tell you this wisdom. But no one actually gives you the details and the formula

Communication is about

1) frequency. So don't let this fester. Bring it up right away

2) type of communication. So positive and the negative. Ie., things that are working but also not working. The positive communication will be, "oh I loved [action], because [what it made you feel]. You are so [the unique attribute about your partner that led to this behaviour]". This is what is going to build connection regularly. Regularly appreciating your partner. And not just in a generic manner. But in an instance specific manner.

Or in the negative "when the [situation/issue], it makes me [feeling], and if this continues to happen i will [feel/consequences]". It doesn't attack the partner and views them an opportunity to rise to meet your needs. And focuses instead on the situation / issue and the effect on you. This is what will maintain the relationship. Prevent it from going down.

3) manner of communication. You should never say "you always do this" "you never do this". That is not an productive way of conveying concern to your partner. That is just attacking them as mentioned in point #2. The person who is being addressed also should listen and not get defensive or criticism. If one person has legitimately brought up a concern, and the other person says "no i don't do that " or "it's not that big of a deal" or "well you did this [unrelated other thing so long ago]", this is a cause for concern. Men often do the latter and imo it's a red flag. A man should be able to listen to your concerns and not feel attacked if you have brought it up in a gentle let's tag-team this issue manner. If a man does get defensive or start criticizing you instead, he has an ego or insecurity problem. Thats one of the things that will chip away at a relationship. Is defensiveness and criticism.

There's other things that maintain relationships like taking interest in your partners interest, when they ask you to look at something or share something with you - then you should take interest. There's many people who might ignore it or outright dismiss it (chips away) or some might simply acknowledge it (maintains), where are some might take an interest and ask you questions on the thing youve shared. Ask you where you learned about it. What you found interesting about it. How it made you feel etc (builds relationships).

Some years ago I wrote a post, which I can't find now. But I found it so surprising in couples that I had observed that a man would so often dismiss his partners attempt to connect. I remember the instance I noticed this - I was at a desi Eid bazaar. And a woman came to her husband who was sitting with their child, giddily told him that she had haggled the price of a cloth down by 20 dollars. And instead of being proud of her and appreciating her, he said something along the lines of "you could have gotten it for 30 off". And I saw the joy disappear from her face. And he chipped away willingly. So bewildering to me that you have an opportunity to connect and build, so easily handed to you - and in so many couples, they reject it. It's like someone offering you a couple of dollars for free in a long-term investment, and you're like - nah thanks I'm good. Maddening!

[m0chisenpai]

lestat x black female reader

inspired by ep 1 where lestat invites louis and lily, but here it would be reader and lily where they are friends and lestat just uses lily to finally have reader 🤭

fascinating

˚｡⋆ lestat de lioncourt x black!fem!reader

in which you are the most fascinating being of the night

You were a fly on the wall when it came to Lily and her business.

You were a…muscle of sorts. Though you could hardly overpower the men who she saw all you needed to do was scream for someone and the men would be set right.

You did not partake in the business of pleasure, it was not something that drew you in.

Truth be told the touch of a man made you feel ill. Not that you preferred the company of women, but the men who came in for Lily wanted one thing merely and that was to waste their seed and forget about their problems at home.

You could see right past their imported rings, their custom tailored suits. It was all a facade, but tonight Lily insisted you enjoy the music out on the patio while she handled her ‘business.’ This was typical, you kept her clients company while she got ready or wrapped up a previous one. She offered a portion of her earnings to you but you declined.

“I need you to keep an eye out for my next appointment love please?”

You hum turning your head rested int he palm of your hand to look at her.

“Not Lawrence again he is such dull company.”

“No now if he were coming I’d tell you to pick your book up and come. No this ones a french white,” she whispers it like a scandal and you will admit your interests are peaked.

“A french man Lily. What’s his name and what’s he look like?”

“Oh he’s got these dreamy blue eyes, golden locks. He knows to meet me up here, but keep I entertained for me love won’t you?” When she holds your hands and pouts her lip you sigh and agree and she’s squealing and promising a treat on her next night.

When she’s gone your eyes return to the book, the light music spilling from the night sets the perfect ambiance for you to read from the tattered pages. You enjoy your little bubble in peace, oblivious to the man who now sits in front of you.

It isn’t until his cane knocks int the table that you pick your head up to meet the most beautiful of eyes. This man is unlike the others. No, he is special. When you tilt your head ever so slightly he mirrors it back.

“I hope I am not of a disturbance, madame.”

“No,” your wet your lips finding your voice. “You must be looking for Lily. She should be ready for you in a moment I can alert her-“ When you go to stand his hand comes down upon your hand atop your book. But it is gentle, and it stops you.

“No please, I would prefer your company tonight.”

Oh now this was new, your eyebrow raises but your hand does not move from beneath his own. It is cold, but it is comforting in the humid evening. “I do not warm beds sir, if you’d like I can find you another woman to provide you the company you desire?”

“I think the company you offer surpasses any woman’s here, please sit. I will even pay you for your time.”

You hesitate for. A moment, but the extra money could provide you just enough for the new novel you’d been in search of. So you sit, crossing one leg over another.

“Where are my manners, what am I to call you madame?”

You offer your name and he whispers it back. “Lestat De Lioncourt, but for you my dear, Lestat.”

His answers are vague to your questions. She comes from France, from money passed on from a father. His mother travels the world since the passing of said father, and he finds himself in love with New Orleans.

“But enough about myself what-“

“Mr Lioncourt!” When Lily comes the tiniest bit of disappointment fills you. But a Lestat’s eyes do not move when you dearest Lily returns by your side.

“Lily you did no tell me you had such interesting company around here.”

“I told you she is, she would rack in a fortune-“

“But I do not like the feeling of a man. It makes me…” you shake your head but Lily’s hand on your hand provides you comfort. Cause she knows.

“Well I will leave you both to it, I’m gonna check in with Madame, Lily, you fine by yourself?”

“Of course, Mr Lioncourt is my last o the night then we can go to that new cafe.” You stand, book in hand to walk past but Lestat’s hand holds your elbow. Had it been any other man your instinct would be to step aside out of their grasp.

But his hand does not feel like fire on you. And he drops a ring in your hand, a fortune which he lays his hand atop.

“Will this suffice?”

“Yes, thank you Lestat.” You smile and move to leave. Yet his gaze does to leave until you are completely out of sight.

Lestat begins to buy up Lily’s time, to the point whee she hardly can see others. She wasn’t comparing the man paid her extremely well from what you could tell, enough that she was giving you some o her earnings.

“I just feel bad, dragging you to and from. But I think he is sweet on you love.”

“He is not.” You giggle as she bumps int your side as you walk to the mans home.

“He is! You know….” She leans up to speak into your ear, “I think he pretends it is you some nights.”

“You and your imagination Lil,” she giggles right until he is meeting you at the iron gates and letting the both of you in. It was always the same, he offers you both a drink, you speak for a bit, the two go upstairs, then Lily walks you back home.

But tonight it was as though the two knew something. Because when she passes Lestat the gaze they exchange is mischievous. Lily pauses i the doorway cursing beneath her breath.

“I left my compact at Lawrences love I’ll be right back!” And she’s dashing out the door before you can run after her. Lestat closes the door just when your door reaches for the knob.

“I hope is am good company,” he holds his hand to you. And you lay your hand in his, letting him lead you into the parlor. Two glasses await you before the lit fireplace.

The record plays the softest of music.

The setting feels too intimate, especially as he sit beside you, closer than most do. But you attribute it to his heritage. He was always more touchy.

He deposits a glass, half filled and clinks your glasses together. You take a slow sip. It’s a smooth red that warms your bones and you set it back down. When you look up at him, his gaze is settled on you, almost loving. Too kind for your linking to you settle on looking at the spot between his eyes.

“Do you find my company a nuisance?” He tilts his head, and a furrow creases the perfect marble of his skin. “Because I can’t offer you what Lily has. I’m sorry.”

“Au contraire my little love,” his hand slips into your own, lifting it to press a kiss to your hand. “ Your company offers me something hers does not.”

Now it is your turn to be confused and you tilt your head. He continues, “Your questions. Your thoughts. Your hunger and desire to know the things beyond man and God. You hunger for something more.” As he speaks his hand rests across your bare chest, where your heart beats beneath his cold palm.

”It is here. And I too had such desires. Until it brought you to me. My answered prayer. The one who alone can satisfy this hunger.” You don’t realize how your body seems to draw closer. Your own hand resting where his heart should beat.

You should feel sick, you should be broken. No man can fill the void of your heart. “You were never broken, your soul knew what your flesh knew not. It needed me.”

When you go to move back his hand rests at the back of your neck, but it is gentle. His hand are always so gentle. “How did you know.”

”Because my love. We were meant to be, to be companions for a lifetime, no, for lifetimes to come.”

You don’t know why it feels so hard to breathe. But he is sliding another ring from his pinky, and he drops it into your hand, curling your hands around it to hold between both his hands.

“Be my companion, my love, let me fulfill every desire these mortal men have neglected. Please,” he whispers your name like a prayer. Tears fill your eyes, sliding down the slopes of your cheeks. You can only slowly nod.

And he is devouring your lips, the flames burn higher.

”Oh love!” Lily squeals seeing you at your normal spot. Your back to her, hair pinned up in a gorgeous frown braid with silk ribbon. It had been some time since you returned. Whispers spread that you eloped, that you ran off to France, hopped a train to New York with some man.

but Lily long since told you needed a break.

“Lily,” your voice is so smooth, had you always sounded like that? When she is able to see you, you look up at her.

Golden eyes, stare into her brown ones.

[thatsoanjie]

Unspoken costs

Sebastian Sallow x reader

Summary : You start doubting Sebastian's intentions in your friendship.

Word count : 1 124

Notes : Requests are open! I just write these to get the ideas out of my head :)

Read my disclaimer and fair use notice here

The thought crept up on you like a shadow, subtle at first, but growing in size and weight until it consumed nearly every quiet moment you had to yourself. It was one of those thoughts that made your stomach churn, your heart clench, and every instinct scream to push it away. But no matter how hard you tried to ignore it, it lingered, gnawing at you, relentless.

It started with a simple, innocent observation—how often Sebastian would bring up Anne in your conversations. It was natural, you told yourself. Anne was his sister, his world, the person he loved most. Of course, he would talk about her, especially when you had been so deeply involved in their quest to cure her.

But then the doubts began to creep in. What if that was all you were to him? A means to an end? Someone who could help him save Anne, but nothing more?

You began to replay every interaction in your mind, searching for signs, for clues. Every time Sebastian had pulled you into his schemes, every time he had sought you out for help, every time he had looked at you with those intense, desperate eyes—it all seemed to revolve around one thing: Anne. And the more you thought about it, the more it started to hurt.

Were you just a tool to him? A convenient ally who could be discarded once Anne was cured? The idea sent a wave of nausea crashing over you. You cared about Sebastian—more than you had ever cared about anyone. But what if that care, that love, wasn’t mutual? What if you were just another piece in his puzzle, and nothing more?

After one particularly grueling day in the library, these thoughts became unbearable. You had spent hours researching yet another obscure text, and Sebastian had been restless, his frustration bubbling over.

“We’re missing something,” he muttered, his voice strained. “There has to be something more… something you can do.”

You paused, trying to calm the rising tide of doubt, but it felt too familiar, too raw. "Sebastian," you started, your voice shaking, "do you only want me around because I can help you save Anne?"

The question cut through the air, sharp and immediate. He stopped, narrowing his eyes at you, his posture stiffening.

"Are you serious right now?" His tone was incredulous, defensive. “After everything we’ve done, after everything I’ve asked of you, you’re really going to throw that at me? You think you're just some tool?"

Your breath caught in your throat, but you stood your ground. “It feels like that sometimes.”

He scoffed, pacing now, clearly agitated. “You know what, maybe you're just too afraid to see things through. Maybe it’s easier to think I’m using you than to admit you’re scared of what comes next. Coward.”

The word hit you like a blow, your heart hammering in your chest. “How can you say that? After everything we've been through?”

"Because it’s true!” he shot back, his eyes burning with frustration. "You’re brilliant, more capable than anyone I know. Hell, half of the things we’ve accomplished wouldn’t have happened without you. But here you are, too afraid to push yourself further, hiding behind this—this doubt. You think I haven’t noticed?"

The weight of his words settled on you, heavy and stifling. “I’m not hiding. I just need to know… What happens when Anne is cured? Where does that leave us?”

His expression softened, but only for a moment. “Why does it matter?” he asked bitterly. “This isn’t about us, this is about saving her.”

You felt the sting of his words but pressed on. “No, Sebastian. It is about us. I need to know if I’m just a means to an end.”

He stopped, his face hardening as he looked away, the tension thick between you. Then, almost too quietly, he said, “Maybe you want to be a means to an end. Maybe you’re the one who doesn’t want this responsibility.”

His accusation stung, but you didn’t back down. “That’s not fair. I’ve done everything I could.”

“I know!” He finally turned back to you, his voice breaking slightly. “I know you have. And that’s exactly why it frustrates me that you don’t see it. You’re extraordinary. Your talent could change everything, do things I can’t even begin to comprehend. But every time it matters—every time it could really make a difference—you hesitate. And I don’t get it.”

You felt the lump in your throat grow tighter, his words cutting deeper than you had expected. “I’m not like you, Sebastian,” you said quietly. “I can’t just throw myself into it without thinking about what it’ll cost.”

Sebastian was silent for a long moment, his face a mixture of anger and something else—something more complicated. "I don’t want to admit it, but you’re right. You don’t have to be like me, and you don’t owe me this.” His voice softened, but there was still a raw edge to it. “I can’t deny your talent is incredible. It’s—it’s the kind of magic that changes everything, that changes people. And maybe I’ve pushed you because I thought... because I needed you to see it, too. But I get it. I’m not asking you to follow me down the same path.”

You blinked, surprised by his shift in tone, by the way his defenses crumbled just enough for you to see the vulnerability underneath.

“I can’t ask that of you,” he continued, more measured now. “And I respect that. I just… I just wish things were different. That I didn’t need you so badly, and you didn’t feel like I was taking advantage of you.”

There was a painful silence as his words settled in. For the first time, it felt like he was admitting that he’d put too much on you, expected too much without understanding the weight of what he was asking.

“I don’t want to be a coward,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

“I don’t think you are,” he said, his gaze finally softening as he looked at you. “I think you’re braver than you give yourself credit for. But I’ll respect your choice. Whatever you decide, I won’t push you.”

For the first time in a long while, you felt something loosen in your chest. His words weren’t perfect—there was still hurt, still unresolved tension—but it was enough. Enough for now.

“Thank you,” you murmured, the air between you still heavy but no longer unbearable.

Sebastian nodded, stepping back slightly but keeping his gaze on you. “I don’t want to lose you,” he admitted quietly. “Not because of this. Not because of anything.”

***

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it. Requests are open. I've been trying to get a fic out every monday at 4pm ET. So far, so good! I do need to branch out from one character fics lol.

[croissantlover24]

Solar angst where he has a panic attack after meeting Nexus again because he reminds him of his Moon?

(Yes yes YESSS)

Solar’s hands shivered. His nonexistent heart began to beat faster and faster, the sound suffocating his audio receptors. The oil within his eyes threatened to spill over. He could hear Nexus saying something in the background, but wasn’t really listening.

This was not how he had wanted things to go.

When Solar confronted his former brother, he thought he’d see some sort of explanation. Some sort of reason.

Not his Moon bubbling back all over again to torture him.

Of course, his Moon was dead. Solar had ensured that himself. However, with how Nexus was acting… it was like his brother was possessed by the ghost of his abuser.

Not a good combination.

“Aww, are you going to cry?” Nexus mocked, flexing his claws and exaggerating his tone.

“Shut up,” Solar hissed, holding back tears.

Nexus came closer.

“I’m not going to change,” he whispered lowly. “I have dark star power. That’s all I need. And soon, I’ll become a god.”

His laughter echoed across the empty halls like a distant wound Solar had long forgotten reopening.

“That may make me the villain of your story,” the lunar animatronic continued, “but I can handle that.”

His voice became colder than ice, frozen over from years of pretending to be someone he was not.

“However… can you?”

“Can’t you do anything right?” Moon had hissed at Solar, slamming his faceplate against the wall repeatedly. “Why are you STILL HERE? Where’s Sun? WHAT’D YOU DO TO MY BROTHER?”

Solar shook his head, pushing the memory back to the deep recesses of his mind. Now was not the time to compare how Nexus had become the person he swore not to be.

“Kneel,” said animatronic commanded, and Solar was suddenly shoved to the ground. He tried to stand, but a force far beyond his own kept him on the ground.

Nexus laughed. “How pathetic.”

“Shut. UP,” Solar hissed, pushing off of the ground and ramming into him. Nexus swiftly dodged, sending Solar barreling into the wall.

“Ugh,” the latter groaned, rubbing his head. Not the smartest decision.

“You’re as foolish as always,” Moon—no, Nexus—teased.

Solar would be lying if he said that he didn’t see the two as one and the same now.

He shook his head. Don’t think about that. DON’T DON’T DON’T—

Solar was slammed to the ground by his former brother yet again, purple magic floating around him.

“Keep your head down,” Nexus growled. “I’m going to make this very clear.”

He grabbed Solar’s faceplate, digging his claws into it and ripping some of the paint off.

“I am not Moon anymore. I am Nexus. Get that straight. Nexus, Nexus, Nexus.” Each time he said his own name, Eclipse—no, Solar (get out of that mindset, Solar)—was punched hard in the face.

Nexus was still going easy on him.

He grinned maniacally, the thing spread far too wide. “I’m glad we’ve come to an understanding.”

He disappeared.

And that’s when the panic attack formed.

Solar’s airways felt tight, as if they had rusted over and filled with dust. Each breath didn’t seem enough, like he needed more more more air and—he wasn’t getting enough of it. He was suffocating, a victim of his own mind. Nervous energy jittered through him, convincing him of hallucinations that weren’t there.

“You’re pathetic.”

“You’re the reason Sun is gone.”

“I’m going to kill you.”

Was it his Moon or Nexus saying those things? Solar suddenly couldn’t remember.

He collapsed against the wall, gripping his head tightly as his heart raced and his mind reeled.

Sleep was… a far away dream for Solar that night.

[writingoddess1125]

Small Touches

Bucky Barns x GN Reader

Fluffy 💕

Masterlist <<

Kofi <<

SFW

• Bucky’s not used to touch.

• Not after all the years of isolation, manipulation, and pain that have made him recoil at even the slightest brush against his skin.

• Despite therapy the weight of the Winter Soldier haunts him, making it hard to believe he deserves something as simple as a gentle hand.

• But when you come into his life, it’s like the walls he’s built around himself slowly begin to crack, piece by piece.

• Despite his best efforts

- You having been a Family friend of Sam, You of course were invited to a family outing. Sam also dragging Bucky with him to get him more socialized.

• The first time it happens, it’s an accident.

"(Y/N)! My favorite annoyance!" Sam called out once he saw you, of course a laugh bubbling from your chest as you walk over and give him a side hug to not spill your drink.

"Sam! How of the US chicken doing?" You joke with a wide smile as he rolls his eyes.

"Fine Fine- Smart Ass. Oh and (Y/N), this is Bucky Barnes, he is- someone who works with me" He introduced as he gestured to his acquaintance who gave a awkward smile. You still a bit buzzed from your drink and your natural social reaction also give a Side hug to the stronger with a cheerful greeting- Unaware you were hugging the side of his metal arm.

It leaves Bucky confused, wondering why your touch didn’t feel like the usual threat in the back of his head. A bit frazzled by it as Sam tries to explain away that you were a hugger-

He stiffens instantly, his mind racing, but you don’t even seem to notice.Instead of pulling away quickly or acting awkward, you continue talking, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

"It's wonderful to have you here! Here have a beer and food should be done soon- Speaking of I think I left the drinks i brought in the car" You say cheerfully as you gesture to the grill near by. Setting down your drink on a near by seat as you excuse yourself to run the errand.

Interesting..

His breath catches, but you quickly pull away, not wanting to make him uncomfortable. He doesn’t say anything, but inside, something stirs. It’s not fear—it’s curiosity. He hasn’t flinched. That’s… progress, right?

• It continues like that for a while—small, fleeting touches that don’t last long enough to feel overwhelming but linger just enough to leave an impression.

• A pat on the back when he does something good.

• Your hand briefly brushing his as you hand him something.

• They’re all innocent touches, but each one feels like another brick coming down from the fortress around his heart.

• Eventually, Bucky finds himself missing those moments.

• He won’t admit it—not at first—but something about your touch is grounding.

• It’s warm, and real, and for the first time in a long time, it doesn’t come with pain or fear.

• He starts to lean into it, allowing your hand to stay a little longer when it rests on his arm.

• He doesn't flinch when your fingers linger by his.

• The day he initiates touch for the first time catches you both by surprise.

You’re sitting on the edge of a rooftop, watching the sunset and chatting mindlessly, Bucky talking about how this area used to look like when he was young- when he hesitates for a second, then slowly reaches for your hand. His fingers wrap around yours cautiously, like he’s afraid of breaking something fragile.

It’s a big moment for him—one he’d been building up to in his mind for weeks.

He doesn’t say anything, and neither do you, but the soft squeeze you give his hand is all the reassurance he needs.

EXTRA-

• Soon After he asked you out, which of course you say yes to.

Now Bucky is no Virgin, thats not a surprise since before he was a bit of a player- However that was a lifetime ago so now- He feels like he's starting from scratch especially with you.

This day in age also is much more sex positive then back in his day...

"You're Joking-" Bucky asked as he sat next to you slack jawed, while you laugh loudly next to him on the couch of your livingroom, your legs slung over his thighs as you two lounge together, having had to pause the movie that was being played cause it had a Tinder scene and he had been confused.

"No I'm not- I promise" You say with a wide smile as you wipe the tear from your cheek.

"Sex is not as sacred to some as it was before- So yes you can go on your phone and just swipe on pictures of people you'd want to have sex with, agree and meet up" You try to keep your laugh under control at the way his eyes widen and jaw slacks.

"But- No Date No- Dinner? Flowers? Like I had to put in so much effort back then! And now you can just- Do that?" He questions, now sitting up and waving his hand like a old grandma at how this generation is too open and should be more careful!

"I haven't even told you about the wide range of Imternet Porn either- Or Orgies, Sex Clubs, Free Use Clubs, Toys, BDSM" You say as you watch Bucky's face scrunched up in confusion at the last part ad he holds up a hand to stop you.

"B.D.S.M?"

[weaselmcdiesel]

what if i just made moderately funny katnep comics forever

[canon-gabriel-quotes]

Transcript:

You know I got that... GODLY PUSSY

Audio source

[lover-of-mine]

Buddie being definitely and completely platonic and heterosexual totally not flirting at all no tension whatsoever

[himejoshiangels]

I fucking love we are robin they were so huddling in the back booth of the restaurant izzys family ran trying not to laugh while ordering, surfing on the tops of trains, learning how to treat a bullet wound crowding around the phone frantically collecting google searches, taking more hits than they were landing, listening to dax play shitty guitar in his garage while skipping classes, playing dnd in rikos basement, making snide comments while duke and dre argue again for the eighth time that day and watching duke try to resist dre bribing him with his cooking, being connect to someone you don't know halfway across town because they too know that with batman gone someone has to take care of this city someone has to do something and it might as well be you

[good-beanswrites]

If it's okay with you, could you write a drabble about the hypothetical aftermath of Amane getting attacked by Kotoko?

Welp thank you pal for making me absolutely insane with this request 👍 I ran through a few hypotheticals and realized I had to shift some things around since there were so many absolutely tragic outcomes. I worked something out but damn if it didn’t make me emotional to think about how uniquely rough Amane has it. Even making sure she's in a good place at the end, this got pretty serious, so warnings for child abuse and cult references. 

(So in canon, Kotoko goes in order and attacks Fuuta, but Kazui steps in. Then she attacks Mahiru while he’s distracted with his injuries. She’s about to attack Amane, but Mikoto gets in the way (my hc that he did it on purpose survives!). By the time they reach a draw, Kazui is back, and the two of them can prevent Kotoko from any further action against Amane. Sticking to this apparent system of three attacks and one rescue, I’m just shuffling around the injuries for this story. Fuuta’s attack went unnoticed, and he’s in the same state as canon Mahiru. Mikoto steps in before Kotoko can fight Mahiru, so Mappi’s the one who get out physically unscathed. While Mikoto checks on Mahiru, recovers himself, or discovers Fuuta, Kotoko is able to attack Amane next. Kazui comes to help, but not before she leaves Amane looking like canon Fuuta.)

Mahiru could practically feel her heart shatter into a million pieces when Amane finally cried in front of her. She hadn’t shed a single tear yesterday – it was the shock, Shidou said. Mahiru was skeptical. After all, she had been shocked, too, and cried plenty.

Amane woke as she came in with breakfast. She took a moment to survey herself, bandages peeking out from beneath her pajamas and an eyepatch securely over her right eye. As calmly as one might say “good morning,” she started to cry. Mahiru might have missed it, if Amane hadn’t wiped at her good eye with her sleeve.

“Oh, sweetheart…!” Mahiru rushed over to her. “It’s okay, I’m here.” She wanted nothing more than to wrap the girl in a secure embrace, but she remembered the mass of bandages that were around her chest. Shidou had mentioned broken ribs and bruises. It took everything in her not to cry along with Amane, at the thought.

“I can get you another ice pack, if you need. Or more medicine.” Her mind spun with ways to help with pain. Many of the first aid supplies had been used to keep Fuuta from the brink of death, but surely there were extras to spare for Amane. 

The girl just shook her head. 

She muttered, “I can’t… I…I’m going to be punished, I’m going to be punished…”

“No! You’re safe now.” Mahiru placed her hands gently on Amane’s arms. “Kotoko’s not coming back. We’re all watching over you. You’re safe. She’s not going to hurt you anymore.” 

“That’s not…” Amane pulled away. Her voice stayed level, despite hiccups interrupting her. A hand reached up to her eyepatch. “It’s this. It’s all of this. It’s sinful. I took it off last night, but he must have…” She started unwrapping it. “They’re going to punish me...” 

With a careful motion, Mahiru held it in place and took Amane’s hands into her own. She’d been picking up on the signs ever since they arrived here together, and a final wave of understanding washed over her. 

“I can’t let you do that.”

Amane’s expression twisted, though words came out far more frantic than fiery. “Let me go.” 

Mahiru didn’t. “I’m sorry. Amane, you need this treatment.”

“That is not your decision to make. That is not any human’s decision to make.”

Mahiru pressed her lips together. “I know. But I can’t watch as you… I can’t sit by again while someone…” She was careful not to apply any pressure, but she could no longer fight the urge to gather Amane up in her arms. “You don’t need to be afraid of those people, anymore.”

“I’m not afraid.” Amane hiccuped. “They love me, and I love them. I need to be good for them.”

“I love you, and I don’t want to see you in pain.”

“You just pity me because I’m young.”

“Why does your age matter? You are a lovely young woman – you are my friend – and I can’t bear to see you in pain.”

The two sat in silence for a moment. Mahiru doubted she would take that as an answer; Amane had refused to call any of the others her friend. At least she didn’t argue. In fact, it seemed she was leaning into the embrace a bit more. She sighed a shaky breath into Mahiru’s uniform.

“Listen, Amane. Can you do me a favor? I’m trying to be a good girl, too. To make up for something awful, I need to make sure you’re alright. Can you help me? Can we be good together?”

A long pause followed. Amane’s voice spoke up, ever so gently.

“I suppose I can consider it.” She added quickly, “for the sake of your redemption. Of course.”

“Of course.”

[roblogging]

tiktok users ‼️‼️ how do you,,, censor words in your comments properly ??? because i've censored my deadname and it still comes through ??? like maybe if it's in a full comment it doesn't work as well??? idk!!

i need Help. i just had to go through all my posts deleting comments from this one account because blocking them actually leaves their comments up apparently, i just won't be able to see it and SIGH. how to censor.

[insufferablemod]

hmm realizing that the ship i like properly Ship the most is probably arasol...