#you imagine them to be one way all your life then you grow up and realize oh. they were just a flawed person like anyone else.

[cutielando]

mr. and mrs. ~ oscar piastri

Summary: Wedding of the year is finally here between the two favorite youngsters on the grid. Everyone is invited!

Words: 1.3k+

Other works: my masterlist

♡♡♡♡♡

Oscar and Y/N.

Y/N and Oscar.

Everyone knew them, everyone loved them.

Ever since the young Australian lad had entered the Formula 1 world, Y/N had entered it with him. Always by his side, always attending his races while also attending university.

They had been together for many years, practically having invented the term “highschool sweethearts”. Despite Oscar’s busy schedule and Y/N being at university, they always made it work, never letting the distance affect their relationship.

Moving together to the UK had represented the first sign that they were both in it for the long ride. Packing up their entire lives and moving across the globe to follow their dreams proved that their relationship and the love they had was real.

Real and pure.

When Oscar got the opportunity to drive in Formula 1 and Y/N started her studies, the time they spent together shortened by a significant amount, but they managed to make it work.

They talked on the phone every day, texting when neither of them could speak on the phone, they took every opportunity to visit each other when they had free time, with Y/N visiting Oscar at his races or Oscar coming home when he would have 2 weeks off between races.

They made it work.

But Oscar wasn’t satisfied. He needed something more. He needed something that would put his mind at ease when he would be away.

He needed to officially make you his.

Towards the end of the season, you had a few weeks off uni and decided to join your boyfriend in Qatar for the Grand Prix.

You hadn’t really chosen the best race to attend, the heat and the humidity making it really strenuous on your already tired body. But seeing the smile that Oscar had while doing the grid walk with you by his side made it worth it.

Being there for Oscar’s sprint win had been the highlight of your entire year. Seeing him cross the checkered flag first, seeing his name on that first position on every monitor around the paddock, the feeling was unlike anything you had ever felt before.

Up until the moment Oscar got out of the car.

He made his way over to where you were waiting for him after he celebrated a little with the team, taking off his helmet and balaclava and giving them to one of his assistants.

“How about that?” he asked, chuckling as he pulled you into his arms, careful not to squeeze you too tightly because he was sweaty.

“I’m so fucking proud of you, Os. I can’t believe I was here for your first win” you said, your voice muffled because you had your face buried in the crook of his neck.

“It’s technically not considered a win bec-”

“Shut up and enjoy the moment” you interrupted, making him chuckle and continue hugging you.

As he let go of you, you didn’t notice him reaching for something behind his back, not even his assistant subtly handing him something as he appeared again from the garage. All you could focus on was him, and nothing else around you.

It only really hit you when Oscar lowered himself down on one knee in front of you, a red velvet box in his hand.

“Oh my God” you said, your eyes widening and your hands flying up to your mouth.

All around you, the McLaren team gathered in a circle, phones ready and cameras rolling to catch the sweet moment on camera.

“Y/N, I don’t even know whether words will suffice to say what I want to say right now. You’ve been by my side since we were kids, you moved to the UK with me and left your entire family in Australia just for me, and I can’t even begin to explain how much that meant to me. I can’t imagine my life without you in it, I frankly don’t think I could survive on my own if you weren’t here. I want to grow old with you, I want to have kids with you and build the life we’ve always talked about having. Y/N, will you marry me?” the words got stuck in your throat, so you settled for nodding feverishly.

The entire team around you cheered, but you could only see Oscar. As he got up and slid the ring on your left hand, you threw yourself into his arms and softly cried, the moment far too emotional to be able to hold back.

Your engagement had become national news in a matter of a couple of hours. Every media channel from the world had written about Oscar’s proposal in Qatar, speculating about when the wedding would be and whatnot.

It didn’t even feel like it had really happened when you stared at the ring on your finger, the feeling foreign but so welcome and like it was meant to be.

You and Oscar had multiple talks about when you would get married, where you would have the wedding and many other problems that came with being away from home and everyone’s families.

Which is why you decided to have the wedding back home in Australia.

After the season was finished and the winter break came, you and Oscar had started planning the wedding, which you settled to have after the last race before the summer break. He had already sent invitations out to the rest of the drivers, all of them very eager to attend the young lad’s wedding.

Lando was especially thrilled, but couldn’t help making jokes about how he had never thought Oscar would be the one getting married so young.

“What did you do to him, Y/N? You charmed him pretty damn well” he’d always joke whenever you guys would hang out in the garage before a race.

Yours and Oscar’s mothers took care of most of the things regarding the venue, the flower arrangements and catering, wanting to take the load off of you while you were halfway across the world.

The only thing that you had to worry about was picking your wedding dress and flying over to Australia to get married.

And when the day had finally come, excitement flowed through your veins.

Nicole and Oscar’s sisters had helped do your hair and make-up, your mother only watching as she sobbed quietly in the background.

“Mom, you’re gonna make me cry too if you don’t stop” you told her as you watched her through your mirror, making the other girls laugh.

“I just can’t believe my baby is getting married” she laughed, wiping her tears and walking up to stand behind you.

You smiled and took her hand, mostly to calm your nerves as well.

You were really getting married. And to the love of your life, which was a plus.

After you were prepped and ready to go, your father came to fetch you to walk you down the aisle. Your heart felt like it was going to beat out of your chest as you held his arm tightly and clutched the flower bouquet tightly in your other hand.

But your nerves disappeared like they had never even been there when the doors opened and you locked eyes with Oscar waiting for you at the end of the aisle, Logan beaming behind him as his best man.

The ceremony went by in a blur, the only focus on your part being on Oscar. You only vaguely remembered saying your vows and saying “I do”, your memory only having imprinted the first kiss you two shared as husband and wife.

You were positive that nothing could ever top this moment, getting married with all of your friends and families present, stepping into your new life with Oscar by your side.

Nothing could ever be better.

Nothing could top you becoming Mrs. Piastri.

Being Mr. and Mrs. Piastri.

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[killerlookz]

Hello my fellow Criminal Minds fan! 😊

May I please request headcanons for Spencer falling for a female agent who’s cynical about love and relationships due to being hurt in the past?

a/n: thank you sm for the request! i'd be happy to write this for you! :-)

Falling in Love Again | Spencer Reid Headcannons

pairing: spencer reid x f!reader

content: mentions of reader having been cheated on in the past, uhhhh that's really it haha

word count: 1,478 (sorry she's so long)

Spencer Reid had always been excited about falling in love, the thought of being so close to another person- to share so much with someone was such a wonderful thing to him.

Especially after watching his mom and dad growing up, and the way his father treated her-Spencer was dead set on never becoming anything like him, he looked forward to treating a woman right and spending the rest of his life with her.

But, for as excited as he was he was probably 20 times more nervous about the whole falling in love thing.

So when you came around, and he started to experience that warm, creeping feeling in his chest- he felt a little bit like his world was going to end.

Spencer had never made a move on anyone before, sure he did make out with Lila Archer that one time but he didn't exactly initiate it.

Spencer decided just to channel all of his romantic interest in becoming friends with you, at least he got to spend time with you, that's what really mattered to him. Maybe one day it would turn into something more.

Well.. he hoped until he couldn't help but overhear...

"I went on my first date in months last night, and all this guy did was talk about himself the entire time- didn't let me get a word out, I mean, can you believe it?" Emily says, exasperated

You look up at her as she stands in front of your desk, "Oh, trust me Emily, I can believe it." You shake your head

"I mean," She throws her hands up, "What is it with men? What's wrong with them."

"Everything," You smirk, "They're men. I can't remember I had a good experience with one of them- never maybe?" You laugh. "I've given up on dating."

Your words sunk into Spencer's brain, leaving him with a heavy feeling all around he felt awful- not just about the fact that his chances with you seemed to reduce to zero right there in that moment, but because of how upset you seemed under your sarcastic exterior, he could tell you'd really been hurt before.

A few weeks later you're out for drinks with Emily, Penelope, Morgan, Spencer, and JJ. Amidst the loud, drunken conversations and music at the bar- you can hear the faint chiming sounds of your ring tone, Who would be calling this late?

As you take your phone from your pocket, your stomach drops when you see the number flashing on the screen. The mere sight of those 10 digits making you want to throw your phone to the ground and stomp on it until nothing remains.

"Ooooh, who's that calling." Morgan smirks

You look him dead in the eyes and respond flatly, "My ex."

Morgan's smile doesn't fade instead his smirk seems to deepen, "You two got a little thang goin on?"

"No," You shove your phone back in your pocket, "More like he's trying to get back in my pants after cheating on me- twice."

"Ooh!" Morgan responds, wincing, "So he's a dog."

"A pig is more like it." You scoff, "Who does he think he is. I can't even imagine giving my time to another man again, and even if I could- what makes him so confident I'd give him the time of day."

That familiar heavy pain hits Spencer again.

He's staring at you, and it's like the rest of the bar doesn't even exist. Only you, as you bite your lip, trying to hide any emotion in your face.

Spencer has become good at reading your emotions, maybe it's because he spends so much time with you- maybe it's because of how often he finds himself staring at your face. As much as you try to seem nonchalant, he could tell how upset you are.

Spencer would spend more time than he wanted to admit fantasizing about treating you well, about giving you the love you never seemed to have.

Every time you made a snarky comment about love, or how men had treated you in the past Spencer would want so desperately bad to just tell you about how well he would treat you, how he would never ever hurt you, how he would spend his entire life taking care of you.

The words were practically scratching up his throat, begging to be let out. But still, he would just swallow them down, and give you a sympathetic look, he couldn't muster up being able to do anything more.

At the very least, Spencer's plan of becoming friends with you was working.

The two of you would become very good friends.

Spencer would learn everything he could about you, he would want to know as much as possible.

Not in a weird creepy way- but in a he just thinks you're so amazing he can't get enough of you sort of way.

Every time you and Spencer hung out he wouldn't be able to ignore that nagging feeling, the thought of putting an arm around you and pulling you close, of holding your hand in his, or placing a delicate kiss on your cheek.

The thoughts would eat away at Spencer, and he would only fall more, and more in love with you.

Still, he would lose more hope every time you divulged information about your prior encounters with love. He couldn't blame you for feeling so cynical it, not after what you'd been through.

Spencer would think about his mom, about all the wives Rossi had been through, about Hotch and Hailey, about you- he would wonder why love had to be so painful for some people. He was sure he would never hurt somebody he loved.

One day you're over Spencer's apartment, watching a rom-com, and you make a snide remark, "Oh, real love isn't like that." You scoff and roll your eyes.

Spencer doesn't know what it is, but something in him makes him respond, "It could be." He says meekly

You look up at him, caught off guard at his disagreement, "Hm?" you hum

Spencer wasn't able to take it any more, he hated hearing your cynical nature. He would need you to know how you deserved the entire world.

"Love- It can be like the movies." He affirms his stance.

"Not in my experience."

"I would give you love like that." Spencer would tremble as he makes his confession, so unsure of what would happen next.

He would be terrified of your reaction, scared he was about to mess everything up, ruin any future the two of you had together, and even worse, lose your friendship.

"W-what do you mean, Spence."

"I mean, you always talk about how you've been hurt before, and it just-" He takes a deep breath in, contemplating what he's going to say next, "I love you, y/n," He looks down at his lap, then back up at you, "I would never hurt you."

Despite the obvious passion in Spencer's voice, you were still hesitant about it, but everything inside of you told you to give Spencer a chance.

Spencer would insist on taking things slow, you were his first real relationship and he wouldn't want to rush things, for both his and yours sake. He wouldn't pressure you to put a label on things, or even say you're "dating"- those would come on your own time.

Spencer was determined to make you believe in love again, and he would do everything in his power to make sure you knew without a doubt how he felt about you.

Spencer would often get to work before you to surprise you with coffee and a breakfast sandwich, or a donut on your desk in the mornings.

He would insist on having a date night at least once a week, even if the two of you were on a case, ordering room service or finding a local pizza restaurant way late at night was sufficient, as long as the two of you got to spend time together.

Spencer would be hesitant about PDA or really moving too quickly into being too affectionate, still, he would frequently hold your hand, squeezing it tight when he could tell you were stressed or upset- either by a case or by life in general, he just wanted to give you that extra reassurance that he was there for you.

Spencer would really put the work in, he'd exert more effort than you had ever seen from any past relationship into even the tiniest things.

Spencer wouldn't mind though, anything he could do to reassure you that he loves and cares about you, he would do it.

Every little act of love and gratitude would be worth it to him.

He would savor and cherish every hug, every shared glance, every peck on the forehead, on the cheek, on the lips.

It was all worth it to him, every second of it- all he wanted to do was make you smile, to make you fall in love again.

[lovelybrooke]

Letters Never Sent (Yandere Malleus x Reader)

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A letter wrote by Malleus Draconia, never sent to the object of his desires. Why don't you open it up and see what's inside...

masterlist

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Dear My Child of Man,

I am writing this letter with no intention of you receiving it. 

Maybe this is "silly" as you would describe it, but I find myself slowly losing the restraint on my emotions as the days go by. My heart fills with unfamiliar feelings as I think of you, mixing together into an ever present sense of desire that makes me near shameful. 

I find myself thinking of you always, from the moment I wake, to the moment I fall asleep. You seep your way into my dreams, where for but a moment I can relish in the fantasy that is you. I dream of your soft voice, your comforting gaze, your addicting presence. You are so captivating that I often forget I'm dreaming, until I awake with an aching feeling I've come to know as longing. 

I long for you, I've learned.

I long for your voice, for your gaze, for your presence. I long for every essence of your being to be directed towards me. Some may call me a fool, scoff my way and paint me a madman, but I am nothing without my love for you, so it bothers me none. I often wonder if you think of me as intensely as I do you. I have to admit it is exciting, the mere thought of you reciprocating my feelings warms me so. It is intoxicating, even as a fantasy, simply imagining a life with you is enough for me. Somedays, I imagine gifting you with an unending dream, one where it is just us, away from the rest of the world. Away from duty, and work, and anything else that could distract us from each other, from our love. We would be together and we would be happy until the end of your days, and even after you're gone, I would continue loving you. 

You were always so opposed to the idea, immortality. I remember the look on your face when you realized just how long I had lived, the sadness, the remorse, the pain. At that moment, it was not something I feared, more accurately not something I thought much about. It was not until I met you that it dawned upon me that at some point, you would leave this world, and that it would keep moving. Time would progress, people would grieve, but they would move on, plants would sprout and grow and wilt and eventually grow again, but I would remain stuck. Stuck with my dreams and fantasies. Stuck with the memory of you so present it would be like you never left in the first place. 

Even now, I fear what the world would be like without you. Not much fills me with fear, my Child of Man, but I've found myself scared lately. The thought of you leaving, of going back to your home, and never returning scares me. It is almost comical in a way, I find myself dreading the thought even while writing this. You should be proud, how easily you are able to terrify me is an excellent skill, one many would love to possess. 

You were my first true friend, did you know that? I have Lilia and Silver and Sebek, but I've always been treated as above them, as something untouchable. You were the first person to treat me like an equal, to bless me with the wonderful feeling of friendship. I often find myself racked with guilt, why should I desire more from you when you've already given me so much already? It is selfish, to seek out your love so desperately when I've already taken so much from you. You are my friend, and I should value our friendship above all. 

But that is why I fear, because my love for you goes beyond the boundaries of friendship. I would even say it goes beyond the boundaries of love. It is a longing so deep I wonder if I'll ever be the same again, all while knowing that I am too engrossed in the feeling that is you to ever go back. A longing so deep I yearn with desire unexplainable to man, desire so profound and raw that I am sure you have changed something within me. A longing so deep the closest word to describe it is obsession, but even obsession doesn't explain the hundreds of letters, all unset, pilling away, all centering you. 

Fear, love, what do distinctions matter if every single one of my thoughts center you. 

I have no desire to send this letter, my Child of Man, but I hope with every meeting, every passing day, every time we are together, you are able to feel the love I hold for you. I hope my longing, my devotion, my never ending, boundless obsession is clear to you, my love. 

Because I fear what will happen when I run out of paper.

---

A/n: here's to me hoping that this will break my writers block.

[merakiui]

HELLO MERA I come with some Azul thoughts because mafia Azul is so !!!! ><

Imagine that your parents worked under him and they messed up greatly... OR they were his enemies and he finally got them cornered (figuratively or literally haha). And to make up for it... they offer your hand in marriage to the mafia boss! Though, they definitely didn't expect him to actually accept...

Young mafia Azul that has been gaining a lot of influence recently and is on his way to become a big shot in the mafia world... and when your parents fiasco happens, you're still a child so you don't even get to say anything. You get sent to the area where Azul operates though you may not even see him for years, he had other business to attend rather than look after a child/teen. He's building an empire after all! So it's only when you grow older that you're met with ojiisan boss Azul who's now very happy to fulfill the contract he made with your parents! Congrats, you're the most feared mafia boss' housewife now <3

AAAAAA ANON!!!!!!! OTL OTL this is so yummy...... not thinking much of your betrothal because Azul's never around and your parents don't say much, so in your mind he feels so nonexistent. In fact, you live a fairly normal life (albeit one that is very heavily monitored in secret just to make sure your parents don't go back on their deal with him). Azul is kind enough to let you finish your university studies before he decides to swoop in and finally make good on the promise your parents made.

orz marriage to mafia ojiisan Azul....... such an extravagant event. You're dressed in the finest of wedding attire, as is your soon-to-be husband, and people from all over attend to congratulate the both of you. You suspect most of this is just empty courtesy. Who would want to make an enemy out of one of the most feared people in the underground? >_< there's no point in escaping or trying to get out of this with lukewarm excuses. You try to tell Azul your parents would never agree to this and he's more than happy to show you the contract they signed. It crushes your hopes. You're quiet for the rest of the ceremony.

Azul isn't going to be a terrible husband; he promises he will always adore you and keep you safe and content. You just need to learn to accept this new union and then all will be well. And even if you continue to resist him, there are other ways to stamp out that disobedient fire of yours. If he didn't on your wedding night, then he's definitely knocking you up during your honeymoon. A child will certainly be enough to calm you down and direct your focus to a sweet, happy, and domestic life with him. <3

[valsdelulucorner]

Floyd Head cannons<3

Floyd loves finding his little shrimp hanging out with their friend group or doing work in class, it makes his day. He normally runs over and pushes whoever is talking to you out of the way as he flings himself at you, squeezing you tightly in his arms before scurrying off like nothing happened, leaving you and your company very confused.

Hes 100% the type of guy to say "this ones for you" and completely miss the basketball hoop, instead hauling the ball at one of his teammates while looking so incredibly proud

To be honest if you came to twisted wonderland as a rock climber or a sprinter, he would have the time of his life chasing you around. He's never seen someone as fast as his little shrimpy, you actually give him a challenge. Can you imagine his shock if you just start to sprint up a tree or the side of the wall on campus. You catch his attention originally by climbing somewhere high to pull grim out of a tree, or even seeing you sprint by to try and reach class before the bell rings. You give him a challenge, it intrigues him

Because your a rock climber, your strong right? Imagine your just walking with your normal group before feeling something heavy lunge at you and hold onto you in the piggy back position. You can easily keep him held up right and he will just be a giggling mess, your friends worried for you as floyd remains completely supported on your back. They eventually call jade and azul and they are also shocked to see you just standing calmly, having a floyd full on bear hugging you with all four of his limbs. Maybe you would be a good security person in the Monstro lounge

If you were scared of him, his reaction would depend on how much he likes you. If he only likes to bother you every now and then, not trying to actually start a conversation or a friendship with you, he would 100% use this to his advantage, having you do things for him and azul

If he cares about you alot more, finding you interesting and wanting to be your friend, he would be so very pouty and probably ask you straight up if you actually like him or just hang out with him because your scared of him. If he is head over heals for you or if he sees that its actually bothering you badly, he will try his best to gain your trust better and have you not scared of him. It isnt fun if his little shrimpy avoids him because of his games

Ok hear me out, if Floyd gets to overwhelmed or just far to overstimulated, he turns back into his eel-mer form, just complaining and not wanting to be bothered. If you are with Floyd or if he trusts you a lot like a best friend, you might be able to comfort him in this state. Octavinelle has some massive tanks around its dorm so you will most likely be able to find him there swimming around in his true form. be careful when approaching the top of the tank, if you aren't careful he might try and pull you in. If you guys are dating or if you both are close, he will full on lunge himself at you and squeeze you, resting against you as his lower half remains in the water. Prepare to have some numb legs because you will not be able to pry him off until he stops ranting, you will leave when he feels like it shrimpy

Study dates normally end up as literally anything else dates. You guys are studying together to make sure you guys pass the upcoming exam? He will grow board and probably either lean against you or start making paper airplanes to throw at you. Its boring shirmpy!

Once he starts to fall for you, he will be confused why his heart beats so fast around you when you smile or laugh at him. Your defiantly not a threat, he can easily overpower you. He isn't scared of you, there is nothing about you that is intimidating to him. so why is his heart beating this quickly? He will go to Azul and Jade and just mope around, telling them that he feels funny whenever your around. Jade chuckles as he explains to floyd why he feels like that, azul just looks annoyed as they are both now slacking from their job

He likes that your quite calm around him unlike the other people he normally goes off to bother, you actually can be around him for long periods of time without making him board or annoyed?! He will never say it or even admit it to himself but he really appreciates you more then he knows, he likes having his little shrimpy around

I like the head cannon that floyd teeths (teevths?), he likes chewy types of food and stuff that he can just chew on. Calamari, mints, gum, chewy meats, carrots, really cheesy foods, so many different types of noodles, heck! even some types of edible coral. If he doesn't have anything around him to use, he will chew on your cheeks. He wont make you bleed necessarily, he Justs like to have that mouth stimulation

Calls you "shrimpy" "guppy" "Koebi chan" "Little shrimp"

I feel like he is the type of person to sit and lay in the most random poses during the most random times. Your in ramshackle together? His legs are folded together in the air while he lays on his back, arms splayed out as he just talks to you like its normal.

When the octo-trio first saw grass, jade and azul had to hold floyd back from taking a bite out of the grass

He loves to cuddle you when you two are alone, even deciding to cuddle you in public. He loves holding you in his arms while he rests his face against your neck, having your chin rest on top of his head while you play with his hair. In public, he will be more modest and probably just sit next to you and rest his head on you, he likes lettng the other little guppies see that your his

Floyd loves to randomly steal you away, picking you up easily before dragging you to the monstro lounge for some drinks and food

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I know this was abit different to my other fics and im sorry if it isnt that good. This was difficult to write because im in abit of a writers rut right now, but im enjoying the way it turned out! He was fun to write about but i do think i could have done better

Who should i do next?

[starseungs]

a dream and a dance. hjs.

han jisung x gn!reader — dreaming was a lot harder as an adult than it was back when you were but a small kid. but maybe—just maybe, you could indulge in this dream come true for once.

genre/s — fluff, pinch of angst, post-grad au(?) • 2.0k words

warning/s — alcohol, setting is in a nightclub, life is hard (idk how to explain this)

note — inspired by han's new skz-record: 1,2,3,4,5 ! its a bit rushed since i wanted to post it before i fell asleep, and the proofreading was done in a haze cz i have a shitty migraine. also i know nothing about nightclubs but this was the theme that came to mind so im just basing off vibes 😭

Dream while you’re still young—while you still can.

Growing up, that line had always been an integral part of your life. You still remember the first time you heard it; the soft hushes of your beloved grandmother as she handed you a bowl of freshly cut fruit on a particularly hot day. The six-year-old you once were was staring at the person behind the television, starry-eyed, as you studied the figure’s actions with intent. You could faintly recall a question being asked in that hushed living room, something along the lines of whether or not you found what they were doing interesting. It was a hazy memory for detailed descriptions, but you could imagine your younger self positively replying with an excited squeal, one fit for a child of that age, which would’ve been followed by the line that you’d have kept in your heart for the rest of your life.

As one would, you’ve cycled through your fair share of these so-called dreams in the duration of your early lifetime. There was a time in third grade where you made up your mind to become a science teacher—the thought quickly being replaced just a mere two years later when you found a sudden interest in becoming a chef. Sixth grade you talked big for their age, claiming that they would open their own restaurant after graduating culinary school, despite not knowing a single thing about cooking other than all the hours spent bingeing MasterChef. You would always get a laugh out of the memory, knowing that it, too, was but a short-lived dream of a young mind still easily impressed by the world around them.

The pattern of switching life aspirations continued past elementary, and throughout your hectic high school years. With the constant new experiences you faced day to day, it was inevitable that eventually you would start seeing everything in a different light. It was part of the maturing process, you’d come to realize a few years later—getting hit by the epiphany that you no longer went through your 24-hour cycle the same way you did back when you were ten. It was a bittersweet revelation, one that ended with you looking up old shows you used to watch and playing episodes until the sunrise before forcing yourself out of bed to get ready for class. 

That wasn’t the first time you pulled an all-nighter, but it was the first one that made you feel calm throughout the day despite severely lacking sleep. 

College came around, and now you had to face yet another hurdle in your journey: admitting that you had absolutely no idea what you were doing anymore. You were attending university—check. You were in a program you personally chose—check. You had a decent social life—check; or maybe half a point, since you didn’t exactly have much time to hang out with any of them, instead opting for promises of catching up that were slowly building in number but barely decreasing. Before you knew it, the degree life was slowly eating all of the dreams that were left inside of you, leaving you with a semi-paved path completely devoid of color. What was once a garden littered with numerous flowers of the rainbow now had wilted into dehydrated brownish hues, layed lifelessly beside the narrow road.

Perhaps your grandmother was right. Dreaming was a lot harder as an adult than it was back when you were but a small kid.

Still, you pushed through, just to see the end. There was no use turning back when you had already crawled your way up this high. All that was left for you if you did was a fall so hard that you doubt you’d even be able to recover. The image alone made you shiver, prompting you to lift the glass of liquor towards your mouth, letting the sip travel down your throat and feeling the faux warmth it provided. Your eyes shifted to the clock propped up against the bar counter’s wall, watching the hands tick at a uniform pace. It was weird knowing that time always stayed steady. These days, it seemed all over the place—sometimes slowing, sometimes speeding. At this particular moment, it was like a flowing stream. 

What kind of pace it was, you weren’t too sure. 

What you did know, though, was that the numbers on the clock were barely visible; bright neon LED lights being the only thing illuminating the dark room they called a nightclub. The speakers were blasting some upbeat pop song, entertaining the crowd trying to lose themselves on the dance floor. You could only watch from your bar stool as a girl trips over thin air, obviously a little too inebriated, before getting caught by her friend, who was now fussing over her drunken state. 

Burning liquid passed your tongue as you took another sip of your drink. Unlike that girl, you went to this place alone and on your own accord. In your mind, you contemplated why you chose to be here instead of a peaceful bar that didn’t involve a DJ and a dancefloor—but this works too. Maybe a part of you wanted to experience the thrill one last time before adult life completely takes a toll on you, so who were you to deprive yourself of the wish? Your university days had already ended just a few hours ago, with you stepping on stage to get your diploma. It wasn’t a crime to let yourself have fun after all the sacrifices you made for the sake of your damned future. 

And so you continued to watch—getting lost in the sea of bright lights and the crashing waves of your thoughts, before a familiar voice snapped you out of the trance you put yourself in.

“What are you doing here, looking all miserable like that?”

You blinked owlishly at the face that entered your line of sight. A face that was very recognizable to you, despite the undoubtedly long time you’ve gone without seeing it.

“Han Jisung?”

“The one and only,” Jisung grins. 

“Wow,” you breathed out, completely taken aback at the situation. “I haven’t seen you since our first year of uni! How have you been?”

You and Jisung used to be in the same major before he dropped out right before the start of your second year to pursue music. It would be an absolute lie if you said you didn’t miss him, especially since he was the first friend you ever made in university. You could still recall the moment he approached you in a class like it was yesterday—the Jisung of four years ago scrambling to take a seat after barely just beating the professor entering through the front door. The image of the freshly turned nineteen-year-old panting desperately evoked your concern, causing you to stare at him a little longer than necessary. But it wouldn’t be Jisung if he wasn’t observant, so he returned the stare without an ounce of shame and followed with a question if you had any spare water he could drink.

Luckily, your water bottle had just been filled a few minutes before class started, and thus a beautiful friendship was born.

Jisung took his hands out of his pockets before taking a seat at the empty bar stool to your right. “Life’s been great! Two semesters were enough for me to realize that the academic life just wasn’t for me,” he chuckles. “Oh, and congrats on graduating, by the way!”

You couldn’t help the small smile that found its way to your face at his greeting. “You knew?”

“Ah,” Jisung exclaims, leaning forward to rest his arms on the long table in front while still making eye contact to cement his presence in the conversation. “I attended the ceremony earlier, actually. You know—for Hyunjin and Seungmin. I also watched you stand on stage. That’s why I’m genuinely surprised to see you here like this.”

He looks around for a bit before returning to face you. “Where are your friends?”

You shrugged carelessly, not too bothered with the implication. “Not a clue,” you say with a light chuckle. “Probably out celebrating with their families—or maybe even with each other. Either way, I didn’t get an invite, but I already expected that.”

Jisung simply nods at your reply, and his lack of a reaction amused you more than it should. “And you? Out with Thing 1 and Thing 2?”

“Damn, they still call Seungmin and Hyunjin that? My legacy stood strong, huh?” Jisung barked out a hearty laugh before gesturing somewhere to the side of the club. “But yeah, our group’s over there in one of the sofa cubicles. You can join us if you want; it’s your day too, after all. We should be celebrating!”

You waved his offer away politely. “It’s fine, Jisung. I’m sure they wouldn’t want me crashing in. We’re not even close enough to do that.”

Jisung paused to think for a moment, his hand rising up to support his chin. Your eyes guiltily wander a bit higher, stopping at his rosy lips for a brief second before quickly going back to glare at your glass of liquor. 

Admittedly, you once had a crush on the man beside you. Han Jisung was one of the more attractive individuals on campus back then, along with the rest of his friend group. The lingering gazes of people weren’t foreign to you, as you had your fair share of experiences with them when you used to hang out with him. Jisung was simply someone who caught others’ attention, whether it was intentional or not. Of course, you weren’t exempt from that notion. The only difference was that he was a good friend you didn't want to risk losing and that you weren’t interested in dating at that moment. Romance was another dream of yours you couldn’t reach, no matter how much you yearned for it. And so you buried your feelings in a grave, eventually getting forgotten once he left your life.

You could only hope that a zombie apocalypse doesn’t start soon.

“Hm, alright,” he eventually chimes. “I’ll leave you be, soon. But, on one condition.” It was your turn to ponder over his words. 

“And what’s your condition, Han?”

Jisung attempts to hide the way he fidgets with his fingers, which you painfully caught on to too fast for your liking. He took a few more seconds to collect himself before sitting up straight and turning towards you to shyly say, “Dance with me?”

Your eyes widened into saucers, not believing what you had just heard. It was in an attempt to calm your racing heart that you accidentally froze into silence, your brain already deciding to keep 911 on standby in case you stopped breathing altogether. You internally cursed yourself for feeling a faint hope spark back in your heart, wishing for the romance you never let yourself indulge in. This wasn’t the time, nor was it the place, that you thought was appropriate to rekindle your teenage wishes. 

Unfortunately, your lack of a response made Jisung inhale audibly, seemingly preparing himself to bolt away in embarrassment—if only you hadn’t noticed his actions too, the year of friendship coming back to you to recognize his habit. You quickly willed yourself to spit out any words you could.

"Well, that’s sudden,” you shakily voiced out, but decided to lighten the awkward situation with a cough. “What, think I’m hot now after gaining a few more years?”

Jisung exhaled in relief. “Not exactly,” he rubs the back of his neck, “you were already hot from the beginning.” You roll your eyes at his answer.

“Haha. You think you’re so hilarious, Jisung.”

“That, I do,” he smirks, regaining his confidence. Jisung lifts a hand towards you, opening his palm in an offering gesture. “So, what about that dance?”

You scoffed good-naturedly before taking his hand, pulling him up his seat to drag the two of you towards the center of the establishment that was still as chaotic as you left it earlier.

“Make sure you show me a good time, Jisung.”

“Oh, you won’t be disappointed, Y/N.”

Maybe—just maybe, you could indulge in this dream come true for once.

mastertag 🔖— send in an ask if you want to be added ! 🫶

@fairyki @hysgf @euncsace @comet-falls @starlostseungmin @ameliesaysshoo @hyunverse @djeniryuu @lixxpix

[darkeunology]

♡ Love is the Warmest Colour ♡

Word Count: 3228 (I'm amazed it's this long)

Pairing: Derek Morgan x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of gunshot injuries, normal Criminal Minds violence, kidnapping, torture mentions (No explicit details)

Summary: In a world where soulmates feel each other's pain, you and Derek seem to be oblivious to each other's pains.

Not proof read. Not sure how I feel about this one tbh.

Soulmate: Noun: A person ideally suited to another as a close friend or romantic partner. 

Everyone in the world had someone who was destined to be their soulmate. It was a tale told to every child as a bedtime story, the exact way soulmates were known to each other. Shared pain - all soulmates in the world feel each other’s pain, Every scratch, punch or bump, soulmates feel it all but are never left with the physical marks from the injuries. 

Maybe not so surprisingly, a lot of people never actually found their soulmates, getting injured close enough to your soulmate so that both of you would realise anything was quite rare a feat, most people gave up trying to find their soulmate by their 20s, not wanting to waste their life trying to find the person suited best for them. Including you, once you’d hit 25, you’d given up - you thought it would be great if you did ever find them, but you weren’t holding out hope for it anymore, you’d now just ignore any of the pains you’d ever felt from your soulmate, which annoyingly for you, was a very common occurrence. 

—---------

As a child, a common question that was asked during class was ‘what do you want to be when you grow up?’ Everyone else in the class would always have an answer to this, Vet, Astronaut, Writer, Fireman, to name a few, but you never once had an answer, never a clear one anyway, you had no idea what you actually wanted to do in life, and even once you’d finished high school, you chose to not go to college, instead choosing to unfortunately bounce between jobs, starting out at retail, before moving to waitressing until eventually moving to the job you were in now, a barista at your local coffee shop. 

It wasn’t quite the life you or your parents had ever imagined for you, but you were happy enough; sure, you were living paycheck to paycheck, and you weren’t really able to treat yourself as much as you’d wished to, but it worked for you, and now, being in your 20s, you weren’t really sure how you could do anything else with your life. 

It wasn’t until the day you very nearly died when you decided you wanted to do something different. 

You’d just finished a lunchtime shift at the coffee shop, planning to go to the store quickly before you went back to your apartment, a good friend of yours coming round to have a girls night together after a long week at work. You never managed to make it home that night. Whilst walking to the store, a van stopped next to you, a young man poking his head out the window, asking you how to get to the highway from where he was. After quickly telling him where to drive, you turned your back to the van, about to start walking again when you felt yourself be grabbed from behind, a large hand covering your mouth to stop a scream from escaping - no matter how hard you tried to fight off the hands on you, nothing would loosen his grip as he pulled you into the back of the van, landing a quick, hard punch to your head, knocking you out immediately. 

When you finally woke up, you were tied up on what felt like a dentist’s chair. All your clothes except for your underwear missing from your body. A shiver ran through your body from the chill in the room you were in, the chill getting worse when the men who kidnapped you walked into the room you were in, menacing smirks lining their faces. 

Once your friend hadn’t been able to get in contact with you after you’d failed to get back to your apartment after work, they called the police, knowing that you would never be late coming home without letting her know beforehand, she knew deep down something had happened to you, especially with the news recently of young women being kidnapped and murdered in the are you lived in. She’d seen on the news that the FBI had already been called in after the last murder after seeing the press conference on the news the other night, she told them everything they needed to know and hoped that they’d be able to find you in time. 

Unsure of just how much time it had been since you’d been kidnapped, all you could focus on was the pain running through your body from the hours of torture you’d had to endure. It felt like you’d been here for days when in reality it had only been a few hours. The only thing that had kept you going the whole time was the hope that your friend called someone when you never showed up to meet her at your apartment. That hope finally coming true when a tall, dark skinned man jogged into the room, FBI vest on his body and a gun held firmly in his hands, “I’ve got the victim.” he spoke into his comms before placing his gun back into his holster, walking up to you, a gentle smile on his face, “Hey, sweetheart. I’m agent Derek Morgan with the FBI. You’re safe now alright. Medics are on their way down.” he spoke gently, his hands moving to carefully untie you from the chair. 

Derek stuck by your side every moment until they put you in the back of the ambulance, keeping you comfortable as everything buzzed around you, only leaving you when the ambulance left for the hospital.

He was the one good thing you tried to focus on whenever you had nightmares about the kidnapping. It took months of therapy, months of being scared to leave your house alone again before you were finally ready and able to do something about your life. You guess it’s because of what you went through, but you decided that you wanted to do what was done for you, you wanted to help people in the worst moments of their lives; so you went back to school, studying criminal profiling and psychology, graduating 3 years later before luckily managing to get a position in the BAU, the same unit who saved you nearly 4 years previously.  

—--------

Derek remembered when he was told about soulmates by his parents, his sisters told him afterwards that they all had the same talk when they were the same age. He was told one night as he was being put to bed, his parents telling him that there was one special person in the world who was a perfect fit for him, a person who he might never find but someone that would never be better for him. He was told that was how his parents met each other, his dad being hurt during a police job with his mother luckily being close enough to him that they knew almost in that moment they were meant for each other. He was told that any physical pains he would ever have would be felt by his soulmate and any pains his soulmate had would have, he would feel himself. 

As Derek grew older, he never really put much thought into soulmates, he knew how unlikely it actually was that he’d ever meet his true soulmate, with just how big America was, and the fact they might not even be American. He just figured that if he was going to find his soulmate, it would happen naturally - so, like most people, he dated anyone he wanted to, not caring, nor worrying if they weren’t his soulmate. 

At night sometimes, as much as he would never tell people, he would often imagine what life might be like with his soulmate, or just exactly how he would meet them. He mildly envied the people who had actually managed to find their soulmate, wondering how they got so lucky with how large the world is. 

Sometimes Derek would think he didn’t even have a soulmate, he often wouldn’t feel any random pains, only sometimes getting a pain in his foot, almost like his soulmate had just stubbed their toe somewhere - or sometimes a harsh pain in his arm, maybe a needle injection or someone hitting their shoulder too hard as they walked past them. 

So, even as Derek was for some reason in a lot more pain than he normally was, he didn’t really think too much of it. He was used to pain from his job so it didn’t really feel like much to him, he thought you were just going through a bad day. 

He never connected the pieces, even after his pain stopped once you’d been rescued. 

—-------

Nervous was an understatement as you stood in the elevator going up to the BAU office, you hid it behind a gentle smile as the doors opened, asking the first person you saw how to find Aaron Hotchner’s office. 

After getting your directions, you headed through the glass doors into the main office, walking up to Hotchner’s office to the curious looks of the other members of the team. You knocked on the door, walking in once you’d heard a ‘come in’ from the other side of the door. 

“Hi. Aaron Hotchner?” you asked, a smile on your face as you held your box full of your things in your hands, 

The man nodded behind his desk, standing and walking round the other side to be able to shake your hand, something you were just able to do with the box you were balancing. “Hi, yes. You must be Y/N,” he spoke, waiting for your nod of acknowledgement before he continued, “It’s a pleasure to meet you. Everyone else has just gone into the meeting room. I’ll show you your desk then we’ll go up to meet everyone.” he explained, a small smile on his face the whole time, before he led you out of his office, quickly showing you your desk so you could place the box down before leading you up to the meeting room, walking in before you, “Everyone, meet our new agent, this is Y/N L/N.” he spoke to the team, 

It took a moment for everyone to introduce themselves, Derek was the last to speak, “You seem familiar,” he spoke after he’d said his name. Everyone else took that to mean something different, since they all knew what Derek was like most of the time, so they were surprised when they heard Spencer speak, “Yeah, he’s right.” Causing the rest of the team to try and remember why two of their team knew your face. 

Sighing lightly, you glanced at Aaron, who already knew of your past, he nodded gently, signalling that you can tell them if you wanted to, “I must just have a familiar face.” you spoke, shrugging your shoulders. 

Thankfully for you, the team dropped it. Derek still giving you looks every so often, trying to figure out where he knew you from. 

—----

It had been a few weeks of working in the BAU, you’d managed to fit into the team really well. Already going on many girls nights with JJ, Emily and Garcia. You got on with the males in your team as well, but nowhere near as well as the girls. Garcia being the one you told everything to, including the day you were kidnapped and rescued by the BAU, and opening up to her about the small feelings you had for a certain Derek Morgan.

You’d also had a lot more pains from your soulmate in the past few weeks, nothing too bad, just some hard hits every so often, one being a nasty hit on your ribs one day at the end of a case, you standing with Emily and practically doubling over in the sudden pain that shot through your abdomen, “You good?” Emily asked, concern laced through her voice, 

“Yeah.” you gasped out, “I don’t know what happened, that just really hurt for a moment.”

“Must be your soulmate.” Emily spoke, you nodded in response, 

“Yeah, it must be.”

When you and Emily found out that Derek had been shot in his abdomen, luckily only causing a harsh bruise due to his vest, Emily was the only one who connected the dots about the pain you felt that day, deciding not to tell anyone else about her thoughts. 

—-----

“You alright sugar?” Garcia spoke when she saw Derek, noticing the obvious look of discomfort on his face, 

“Yeah, baby girl. Just got an awful headache, I took painkillers ages ago and it just hasn’t done anything.” he spoke, rubbing his temples, he knew from the fact that painkillers hadn’t worked that it would be a soulmate pain, 

“Soulmate maybe?” Garcia spoke, 

“Yeah, that’s what I was thinking.” He spoke, smiling at Garcia before getting back to work. 

It wasn’t until he sat down at his desk and saw you taking some painkillers when something clicked, “You good Y/N?” Derek asked, grabbing your attention and the attention of Emily who was sitting nearby at her desk. 

“Really bad headache. Painkillers are only helping a small amount.” you sighed. 

Emily was only looking towards Derek, a knowing look on her face, watching as Derek looked towards her, realisation slowly showing on his face, “Let me know if I can do anything to help.” he spoke, before turning back around, his only thought being that his soulmate was potentially his colleague. 

—----------

Oftentimes when you’d come into work, you’d go into Garcia’s bat cave, getting her some coffee and having a little chat before the work began.

A knock on the door interrupted you and Garcia this morning, “We’re meeting now. We have a new case.” JJ spoke as she poked her head in, her face looking grim. Both of you stood, grabbing your coffee mugs and heading over to the meeting room, being the last two to come in,

“We’re going to Florida.” JJ spoke, turning on the TV on the wall, “There’s been a series of murders, all women in their late 20s, all being found dumped in remote areas.” 

“Any sexual assault?” Derek asked.

“All of them had signs of sexual assault, yes.” JJ answered. “Newest victim is Stephanie Leigh, she was kidnapped yesterday evening after a night out at a local club.”

“All of these women were killed two days after they were kidnapped, meaning we have under 48 hours to find her alive.” Hotch spoke, his face serious like always, “Wheels up in 20.” he finished, getting up from his seat first as everyone else followed. 

—--------

You and Derek were in the car driving to the club where the recent victim was taken from, 

“I think I figured out where I remember you from.” Derek spoke, filling the silence that had surrounded you both for a while, 

“Oh yeah.” you spoke, knowing that Derek probably had, and dreading having to tell him he was right. 

“I think around 4 years ago, maybe more, we were called out to a local kidnapping case, the local cops were investigating someone kidnapping local young females and murdering them after torturing them for a few days, normally 2, but he’d accelerated his timeline on the last victim. We’d found the last body then a few hours later we were told of someone else being kidnapped - it was you.” He turned to look at you for a moment before putting his eyes back on the road,

“You were the one that found me first.” you spoke. Silence filled the car again for a moment, “I never told any of you purely because I just wanted to try and forget about it. I figured some of you might recognise me, but I hoped that you’d rescued so many people that you wouldn't necessarily remember one person you’d helped. Clearly though, you knew, and I think so does Spencer.” you looked towards Derek, “I’ll tell everyone else eventually” 

“I’m sorry for bringing it up,” he spoke quietly, 

“Don’t be.” You shook your head, “I needed to thank you anyway. All of you really. But you stayed by my side from the moment you found me until the ambulance left,” you paused, looking back at Derek, “I don’t think you realise how much I appreciated that.” you finished quietly, a sad tone in your voice. 

Derek turned and nodded gently at you, not saying anything else until you guys arrived at the club, continuing on with the case you were working. 

—--------

“I think we found our guy.” Hotch spoke after Garcia had finished her round of research she was given, the team headed out, finding the warehouse where the unsub should be holding the missing girl, rushing to get there before he murdered her just like the others. 

Spencer and you went round the back together along with some swat agents and other cops, checking each room until you saw the unsub running from you both, alerting the agents who were left outside, Derek being one of them. 

“We found the victim, she’s alive.” Emily spoke into the comms, just before Hotch spoke, 

“Offender running on foot northwest, me and Derek are in pursuit.” Spencer, you, Emily and Rossi all ran out of the warehouse, knowing the victim was safe with the rest of the police and the medics, hopping in one of the SUVs and going out to find Hotch and Derek. 

All in one moment, the most intense pain you’d felt before rang through your shoulder and your leg, causing you to yelp out in pain, making everyone else in the car jump, “Y/N!” Spence exclaimed, being the one sitting next to you in the back, “You okay?” he asked, at the same time Hotch spoke on the radio, 

“Shots fired, Agent down. I need medics to my location.” he practically shouted, the message finishing just as the SUV turned the corner to the alley they were in, Derek on the floor with Hotch knelt next to him. 

Confusion rung through you, the realisation never actually hitting you due to the pain in your body distracting you too much to think straight, “I can’t believe you’re a profiler and you haven’t figured it out yet.” Emily chuckled lightly, looking towards you with disbelief. 

“What?” you asked dumbly, 

“Get out the car and go to your damn soulmate.” she spoke again. You didn’t even think twice once the realisation hit you in the face, you jumped out the car, kneeling on the other side of Derek, one hand cupping his face, 

“Hey sweetheart.” he spoke, a small smile on his face even through the pain of the wounds. 

“Hey soulmate.” you smiled, “That hurt quite a lot you know?” finishing with a chuckle, Derek also chuckling before groaning in pain. “Sorry.” you whispered, noticing the pain he was in. 

“I’m taking you on a date once I’m better.” Derek told you, one of his hands coming to hold yours which was still on his face. 

“You better.” chuckling, you leant down and laid a small kiss on Derek’s forehead as the rest of the team watched on, smiles on their faces, relieved that the two of you finally figured it all out, even if you needed Emily to spell it out for you to realise.

[hishighnesstheprincess]

I know everyone (rightfully) focuses on Knuckles as the last survivor of his tribe growing up with almost no concrete knowledge about the culture he belongs to but can we put that aside for a second to focus on Tikal.

Imagine growing up with your tribe constantly at war. Imagine watching your own father disregard your warnings about how damage he is causing and having to sacrifice yourself to keep your tribe from being destroyed and being completely helpless to influence the outside world for the next three THOUSAND years. Imagine being forever young in the worst way possible.

Imagine watching you tribe decline over the centuries until there is only one person left. Imagine watching the murals and memorials and history be eroded by the very world you protected until the original intentions and meanings are all but lost. Imagine watching your one successor fumble his way through life, be tricked and manipulated by someone seeking to use the thing you are trapped inside for the type of destruction you fought against. Imagine watching him waste his life away guarding you instead of living for himself.

Imagine watching him find friends. Imagine watching him change for the better because of those friends. Imagine him finding a purpose.

Imagine being released. Imagine meeting his friends and trying to ask them to do a terrible thing that you had to do yourself once.

Imagine being changed the same way he was.

[lvndrdaaze]

Hi hi! I saw that you're accepting req & i want to send a req if you don't mind (you can decline it, up to you)! Sfw headcanons/thoughts/one-shot (it could be anything) for wriothesley with gn reader who secretly writing a fanfic about him with the reader, wrio finds out about it 'cause he finds the paper with their handwriting (oof). Thanks in advance!

hiii! so I'm not usually accepting specific story reqs, but this tickled my fancy for some reason so I wrote a short-ish one shot, I hope you like it!! <3

(gn!reader, reader is an adventurer, one light swear ('asshole'))

Wc: 860-ish

Life Imitates Art

Tea with Wriothesley in his office was normally an innocuous affair. You'd come down to visit between your quests across Fontaine, and share a pot of whichever blend had taken his fancy recently while discussing work or literature or the latest performance you had seen at the Opera Epiclese. All of this while desperately trying to hide your attraction to the surely unattainable Duke.

So, when Wriothesley brought up something he had read recently, nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary. That is, until you had asked that fatal question.

"What was it about?"

Wriothesley's face lit up; he couldn't wait to tell you what the story had been about.

"Well, it was a romance story, about an adventurer and a Duke." His answer came in a light, conversational tone.

The whole world seemed to stop for a brief moment. The steady chug of machinery outside of his office went quiet. Even your heart had stopped pounding in your chest. Those papers you had lost...Archons, you prayed you had not left them in his office.

Meanwhile, he sipped his tea casually, hardly even looking at you as he continued to speak.

"The story was written from the adventurer's point of view, so you get to hear all of their deepest thoughts and secrets." Wriothesley said, glancing up at you with the slightest glimmer in his eye.

"I see..." was all you could manage to say, a hot flush growing in your cheeks as you dropped your gaze to stare into your teacup. He was toying with you, and you knew it.

"The adventurer had invited the Duke on a quest with them to Liyue, and they were staying the night in a hotel by the harbour. But, when they got there to check in, disaster struck- there was only one bed." He went on, an unmistakeable smirk in his voice now. "You see, it seemed the adventurer had some hidden feelings for the Duke. So, as you can imagine, sharing a bed with him would be quite the embarrassing situation for them."

"Yes, I can imagine." Your voice came out quietly.

"But, lucky for the adventurer, it turned out that the Duke had also been harbouring some...intense feelings for them. They barely lasted an hour in that bed together before the plot turned rather obscene."

You sighed, barely resisting the urge to facepalm.

"It was well written, all things considered." Wriothesley went on further, leaning back in his chair. Even without looking, you could feel the grin he wore in his words, the predatory gaze burning into your red cheeks as he knew full well he had you cornered.

"And I thought the plot was quite realistic, too."

That brought your attention back to him properly. Your head snapped up to stare at him, confusion written into your expression.

"What do you mean?" You asked in a low voice, a frown tugging on your brow. You didn't love the way he was toying with you in this moment, but his vague statement was enough to give you pause.

"I mean that I think a Duke like that really would reciprocate the adventurer's feelings." Wriothesley stated as though it were a simple fact. "After all, 'the warmth of their smile was enough to melt the ice that had shrouded the Duke's heart in coldness for so long'."

As he grinned wickedly at your gaping expression, you weren't sure whether to laugh or cry. This had been so humiliating for you, and this was the reason for his teasing?

"You're an asshole." You murmured, still burning bright red in a haze of embarrassment. Wriothesley chuckled softly, and pulled a couple of sheets of paper from his desk drawer.

"You left these last time you visited." He informed you with a wide smirk.

"Yes, I worked that part out." You huffed, snatching them from his hand. "And this is how you decided to tell me?"

He laughed again, a lopsided yet handsome grin on his lips.

"Can you blame me for having a little fun with it?" He asked, leaning forward in his seat to rest his elbows on the desk, mirthful eyes surveying you closer from this angle.

"I can, and I will."

But your voice didn't hold the bite that it should, and he recognised that.

"I thought the adventurer liked the Duke's 'dry wit and caustic sense of humour'?" Wriothesley teased.

"They changed their mind. The adventurer thinks the Duke is a cruel, cruel man."

Wriothesley laughed again, an expression of such smugness on his face, you couldn't help but stare. He was so handsome like this, so relaxed and gleeful.

"Well, if you ever change it back, I'd love to take you out sometime." The Duke said simply, dropping all pretence and glancing down to run his thumb over the rim of his teacup. Was that...a hint of pink in his cheeks?

Floundering. That was the word for what you felt. Like a cat tossed into a bathtub, you were in unfamiliar waters. Wriothesley was asking you out, but what could you do but accept?

"Alright, but you have to promise me you'll never bring this up ever again. Like, ever." You emphasised the words heavily, desperately, and Wriothesley flashed a mischievous grin.

"Sorry sweetheart, I'm not promising anything."

[zorosprincess]

Succiduous pt.1

PRONOUNCED - Suc•cid•u•ous | \sək`sədooəs\ DEFINITION - Ready to fall, falling.

PAIRING - Miya Twins x Reader WC - 5.8K GENRE - Fluff CW - a lot of fluff, unrequited love if you squint, really bad first kiss, general language warnings, the usual bullying that comes hand in hand with the miya twins SYNOPSIS - The thing about growing up with the Miya twins... You learn a lot of things. You learn that they bleed into every aspect of your life, that you'll never be rid of them. You learn that they feel more like home than your house does.

MASTERLIST | NEXT PART

AGE 6

Growing up with the Miya twins means that they find a way to seep into every single part of your life.

The first time you saw the Miya twins you were just a kid. 6, to be precise.

You can’t pretend to remember all the details of your first meeting, a lot of things are blurry before the age of 12. Even after that isn’t always great. Bits and pieces put together like puzzle pieces, an outline of what the pictures should look like. And, possibly, not even those pieces were always remembered correctly.

What you do remember vividly, however, was the distaste in your mouth as you moved to a new house and a new school, all contact with your parents and with your friends (the girls you swore were going to be your bridesmaids one day in the way that some little girls imagine and play out their future weddings) cut off. All you had wanted to do was sit in your room and point out where you wanted things to go so that your new brother could move them for you.

(When you grew older you had realized he wasn’t exactly your brother, but at 6—brother-in-law was too many words for you to pay attention to. Just as you learned to be grateful for your sister and her husband taking you away from what you learned later was an ugly situation. The words 'divorce' and 'custody battle' were things ignored by your small ears until you were old enough to understand.)

You remember, clearly, the fit you threw as your sister dragged you out of the house and down to the nearest park your first full day in town, leaving her husband and his brother to build pieces of furniture around the house. You don’t mean an actual fit, of course, there was no screaming and crying, no kicking and throwing yourself around.

But you’d be lying if you didn’t purposely make it a little harder to pull you out of your room and down the hallway. If you claimed you didn’t drag your feet a little more as you walked, taking smaller steps than usual. Counting three steps between every line in the walk.

Lying if you said you didn’t shut your mouth and keep every single comment to yourself, not even breaking to answer if you wanted something to eat. You did. But you weren’t about to speak to your sister to let her know that. Not about to break your cone of silent protest. That was the hill you knew you would die on.

It was at that park, the one you were dragged to on your first day, that you first met the Miya twins. The only two there that were your age at the time.

Your sister had been so pushy that day. “Make friends!” She (literally) pushed you towards the play structure where they were arguing over who got to go up the ladder to the climbing bars first. You'd grimaced at the sight—well, at the sound. Two loud voices yelling at each other, over each other, as they started to go for each others’ hair. Too loud.

You'd shaken your head adamantly but your sister had just kept pushing until you were only a few feet away from them, the cause of the ruckus. She'd quickly rushed away to watch you from a far off bench, keen on making sure you could do this on your own. Your response had only been to give her an annoyed look but she’d given you a thumbs up anyways, encouragement to 'go for it'.

“Excuse me.” Your voice had come as a whisper first, too nervous to speak louder than that. Neither of the boys acknowledged your presence, their argument slowly getting closer to putting them both on the ground. You sighed and tried again. Soft voice raising a couple levels. “Excuse me?”

That was the moment you saw their faces for the first time. Both frozen and staring right at you. You remember looking at the two of them and just thinking — oh god. They’re duplicates. Two nearly identical faces staring at you in confusion.

“What d’ya want?” One of them asked, the one with dark brown hair and brown eyes. Annoyance had laced his tone like he wasn’t being held by the collar merely an inch above the ground as his own hands were wrapped up in his twins’ hair.

Before you were even given the chance to open your mouth and respond to the attitude he gave you, he was slammed into the ground by the other. The second boy’s hand released the first’s collar and shoved straight into his brother's face, blocking all chances to see or talk for the moment. “Why d’ya have t'be so rude.” His hair was darker, black, and his eyes were a shiny grey.

“Mm nah roo!“ the brown-eyed boy’s protests were muffled as he tried to shove his brother off him. He succeeded after only a few tries. You stood silent, watching in horror as these strangers fought. You remember shooting a worried look over to your sister only to find her not even looking at you, missing your perceived distress.

“Uh—” your voice caught their attention immediately this time, “I’m new here.” Both stood up straighter, only a few shoved placed between them as they turned to look at you, finally waiting to hear you out even though your voice was so quiet compared to theirs. You watched as both their faces changed to the same dumb look and they even tilted their heads in the same way, waiting for the punchline. “I’m l/n.” Your last name melted quietly of your tongue and you watched them both silently form it with their own.

“Miya.” Their two voices spoke at the same time that both their hands were presented to you. You blinked at them both and it was like a light clicking on as they realized their mistake.

The rude one - as you had dubbed him - spoke again, jerking his thumb at his brother, the one with grey eyes. “Tha’s Osamu.” He then stood a little straighter and pointed to himself proudly. “I’m—“

He was cut off as his brother pushed him again. “Ah-noyin.’” He accentuated the ‘ah’ and flicked his brother’s head, hard. “Lemme tell ‘er m’own name.”

You struggled to keep a laugh from slipping out at that, refusing to let the strangers know that you had feelings yet, let alone that you found them even slightly amusing.

The one now labeled as both rude and 'ah-noyin'' by his brother took his chance to scramble towards his original goal. “Jus for tha’, m’goin’ firs’.”

But just as soon as he'd claimed that and crawled to the top of the stairs, slinging his hands onto the first bar, he'd come tumbling down in a mess of metal bangs and small shrieks all caused by a misplaced foot and gravity. You'd let out a giggle then, unable to help yourself as you'd watched the boy tumble.

“‘s what he deserved for bein’ rude.” You laughed out louder at the comment and if you'd have looked at Osamu’s face in that moment, you would’ve seen a boy who looked as if he'd just fallen in love.

“I like ya.” Osamu said then, definitive tone as he drew your attention away from where his brother was trying to wipe dirt from out of his mouth. You'd tilted your head at him in confusion as he made this declaration, eyes widening slightly in shock. “Ya wan’ some food?”

You went to deny the offer to be polite but your stomach had growled then, as if responding on its own. Loud enough for the boy in front of you to hear it clearly. It was as if it was a reminder of how stupid you had been all day by protesting your sister and her new husband and refusing to eat anything they'd offered.

You'd winced at the noise but it had cause a light laugh to pass through Osamu’s lips. The sound made you let a small smile of your own slip out and you resigned to nod at him as your response. “C’mon,” he'd latched his hand onto yours, the first contact you'd had with a Miya, and started to pull you away from his brother, “ya can have Atsumu’s lunch.”

“’Ey!” The other twin—Atsumu you now knew him as—had finally paid attention to you both again as you'd run off towards where Osamu was promising you food.

The second time that you saw the Miya twins was your first day at your new primary school. You had convinced your sister to not force you to try and make friends anymore for the rest of your school break. But the second that you walked into your classroom, the teacher had dragged you in front of the entire class to introduce you to the rest of the students.

You keenly remember the distaste in the back of your throat as the teacher presented you like a shiny new toy – “everyone, this is l/n y/n, she’s new to town and I want everyone to be really nice to her.” She had accentuated the 'really' of her sentence, sending a glance around at all the expectant faces, something that made you feel like shrinking in on yourself. Then she had looked at you expectantly and you remember having to force yourself to give a small smile and wave at the class.

When she'd released you from the confines of her grip at the front of the class you'd rushed to find a seat... only to be stopped by a familiar face jumping into your path.

“’Ey, I know ya!” You'd paused, eyes widening in a small amount of fright at the enthusiasm that seemed to radiate off the twin. “Met ya a’the park!” You'd stared at him and blinked slowly as he kept on, not even trying to give you the chance to speak. “Ya ‘member me?”

You knew exactly which twin this was, the one with brown eyes. The rude one. The one labeled as 'ah-noyin'' by the one you actually didn't mind. You'd sighed in irritation and acknowledged that whatever you decided you were going to say then would probably determine the rest of your year.

“You’re Osamu’s twin. Right?” You'd paired it with a sweet smile and watched as his jaw dropped in shock.

A loud laugh came from your right and you'd dragged your eyes away from the satisfying picture of Atsumu trying to pull his jaw off the floor and over to where Osamu stood next to you holding his stomach. Your eyes lit up at the sight. You decided then that you could get used to making him laugh.

“Put ya in ya place there, Atsumu.” Osamu laughed and guided you away from his brother. “Sit nex' t'me?” You smiled and nodded, falling easily into the seat next to the twin that couldn’t stop staring at you with a wide and toothy smile.

The other twin stood there, eyes stuck on you as well, disbelief filling them. “But tha’s ma seat!”

“Not anymore.” You'd quipped back quietly, sticking your tongue out at him.

AGE 8

At some point in the next few years, you realized that these twins might be part of your life for a while... whether you liked that fact or not.

Growing up with the Miya twins means that you get used to loud things.

Osamu and Atsumu and their constant bickering had become part of your regular routine. You would repeatedly join Osamu in his teasing of Atsumu, always pulling a laugh out of Osamu when you did. A feeling of joy always filled you when Osamu’s laughs filled your ears as Atsumu would look at you in shock.

You would constantly have to break up fights between the two of them (and sometimes others that would accidentally get caught between them). You became accustomed to waiting for them outside of the principal’s office. Waiting for their lectures to be done so that you all could walk home together. Reading books as you waited for detentions and punishments to be dealt.

But on the first day of your third year in school together, Osamu greeted you outside your house with a new nickname for you on his tongue. “Y/n/n!” He'd shouted it, immediately wrapping you in a hug as you bounded out of your house and straight into his arms.

“Y/n/n?” You'd whispered it as a question as you pulled out of the hug. No one had given you a nickname before and there was a sudden warmth that had come with it, something like comfort or belonging.

Concern had etched its way across his face. “Though’ t’was cute? D’ya not like it?” His voice sounded soft then, small with his worries weighing it down.

You made sure to shake your head quickly and beam up at him. “No! I love it!” You'd pulled away and adjusted your bag as you both walked back to where Atsumu was standing, waiting on the street.

“Ya ready fer a new year?” Atsumu had asked as you'd reached him, slinging arms around both your shoulder and his brother’s, making sure that he was between you both, always craving to be the center of your trio.

You rolled your eyes and ducked out from under his arm. “Ready to see how much dumber ya got over break, Thing 2.” You'd jabbed the comment at him with a snicker. And with that, the warm feeling returned, Atsumu’s dumbstricken face and Osamu’s laugh.

“Why’re ya such a meanie, Y/n/n?” Atsumu whined, your new nickname falling from his mouth easily. Osamu ducked out from under Atsumu's arm next and came to walk next to you, leaving his brother a couple steps behind you both.

“Ya deserve it.” You'd laughed as Osamu’s arm wrapped your shoulder where Atsumu’s had previously been. “And don’t call me that.”

You didn’t have to look back to know that Atsumu’s jaw had fallen to the floor again. “Why’s Osamu ‘llowed t'call ya that but m’not?”

You blew a puff of air out of your nose, trying not to fully laugh, too not give away the small joke, as you looked lightly over your and Osamu’s touching shoulders. “Cause I actually like Osamu.” You said with finality.

Warm again as Atsumu looked distressed and Osamu laughed in your ear.

AGE 10

You picked up a sport, soccer to be exact.

You’d be lying if you said it wasn’t a little tiny bit because Atsumu and Osamu were getting so into volleyball. That you wanted to find something you liked like that too. It helped that your new sport was foot-based in contrast to their hand-based one. A difference enough to make sure you could have your own thing.

It was around then when they had come running to you after one of their volleyball camp days. Exclamations springing from their mouths, overlapping each other, that you needed to stop calling them Osamu and Atsumu 'immediately'.

“We’re changin’ our names!” Atsumu had exclaimed loudly, jumping in front of your face as you went to pull your soccer bag onto your shoulder so that you were forced to listen to him over his brother.

Osamu was quick to snatch your duffel from you before it fully landed, swinging it onto his own shoulder instead with a smile that made your heart constrict. With a smooth motion, he swung his other arm out to smack his brother in the face, not looking away from you nor stopping his smile.

You giggled as you watched how Atsumu’s face was stopped by Osamu’s hand as the rest of his body continued forward for a mere second. A sound of protest left Atsumu’s lips but Osamu’s voice greeted your ears, drowning him out. “We’re not changin’ our names idiot!” He shot over his shoulder at the boy now gripping his nose.

“Why I ought ‘a –” Atsumu went to move towards his brother but you fixed him with a glare and stepped between the two boys, ignoring the grumble that left Atsumu’s chest. You held his eye for a moment, a challenge, but both knew that if you were between them, neither would ever go for a hit.

“Go ‘head, Osamu. Knew ya wouldn’, grandma’d be mad at you.” You flipped your head back to Osamu, dropping the glare and painting a sweet smile on your face in its place.

“See,” he glanced over at Atsumu with a smug smirk, “knew she’d get it.” He rolled his eyes and his twin glared at you instead of him, blaming you for being in his way of the fight he wanted. “Jus’ new nicknames. I get ta be ‘Samu.” He looked at you proudly.

You hummed in thought. “’Samu.” You tilted your head and then smiled. “I like it!” You exclaimed and tucked your arm around Osamu’s waist.

“I picked it!” Atsumu said then, falling back into step with you both.

"Oh," you looked at him with a distasteful look, "well when you say that—” you looked away from Atsumu and tried to cover your smile as you locked eyes with Osamu, both of you knowing that you were just messing with him— “I don’t know about it.”

Atsumu made a sound at the back of his throat at your words, struggling to find his own. “But since ‘Samu likes it.” You smiled, trying your hardest to not giggle as you saw Atsumu throw his hands out in annoyance out of the corner of your eye.

He groaned before righting himself again, pulling his ego back together as easily as it had fallen apart. “Movin’ on ta me.” He'd clapped his hands together and slapped a smug smile back on his face. “’m gon’ be ‘Tsumu!” He shouted excitedly in your face.

You scoffed and rolled your eyes at him. “That sounds dumb.” You said and smiled as a harsh puff left Osamu’s lips as he tried to keep his laughs down.

“’Samu came up with it!” Atsumu’s voice raised an octave, defensive as his jaw dropped at you.

“Oh, well when you say that—” you laughed lightly— “it’s a great name ‘Samu, good job.”

“Yer biased!” Atsumu shrieked at you then, voice cracking as he ran a hand over his face.

“Absolutely I am.” You'd laughed as Osamu squeezed your side in response. “That’s why he’s Thing 1 and you’re the Thing 2. I like him more, so he gets ta be number 1.”

“I hate ya.” Atsumu grumbled at the same time as Osamu smiled over at you with a “Love ya too.”

AGE 12

Growing up with the Miya twins meant that when you started middle school, you started to find yourself at the Miya house more than your own. You'd spent more nights curled into Osamu’s bed than your own, preferring that to four screaming wake-up calls a night from your sister’s new baby.

You'd slowly found yourself more and more attached at the hip to Osamu and found Atsumu hanging around you both less. But in the middle of the night it was just the three of you and your meaningless talks. Atsumu and you, however, always stopped talking once Osamu fell asleep, keen to sit in silence amongst his soft snores.

It had been one of those nights when you'd woken to the room quieter than usual. Even with Osamu lightly snoring next to you, there were no sounds coming from the other bed in the room.

“’Tsumu?” You'd whispered it out, verbally reaching around the room for your other best friends, but there was no response.

You'd lifted yourself onto your elbows, looking around for a sign of him. The door to the room was lightly cracked and you tilted your head in confusion. You sighed, twisting yourself slightly to escape your blanket, and crawled over Osmau’s (might as well be dead) body. You were thankful that he was such a deep sleeper as you nearly knocked him off the bed.

Your bare feet hit the cold floor and you hissed slightly as you tiptoed toward the door. Pushing your way past it with a light creak of the wood, you heard a light and consistent thud coming from the back door of the house. Walking quietly to the slightly open door, Atsumu finally came into your view.

You rubbed some of the sleep out of your eyes and glanced over at the wall clock — 3 am — and then back to Atsumu, who was hitting a volleyball repeatedly, practicing his sets you assumed.

“’Tsumi?” You whispered, your voice laced with sleep as you tried to stifle a yawn. His eyes snapped towards you, momentarily forgetting about the ball until it smacked him in the face. He groaned and you couldn’t even find the energy to laugh at him. “Are you okay, ‘Tsumi?” You asked, stepping out and onto the porch and then immediately regretting your decision as the cold air surrounded you.

“Wha’ya doin’ up, a/n/n?” The nickname rolled off his tongue and usually you’d complain about the twist that he’d put on his brother’s nickname for you, but tonight, you couldn’t be bothered. You almost didn't even mind it. His face was flushed red from the cold despite the jacket wrapped around his shoulders and his breathing was uneven, eyes droopy.

“You were gone.” You whispered, stepping closer to him despite the cold that seeped into your body on all sides, raising goosebumps along your skin. “What’re ya doin’ out here? Its 3am, ‘Tsumi.”

“Couldn’ slee’.” He mumbled, abandoning the ball and walking up to you. “Came out t'think.” He motioned towards the abandoned throw blanket that was crumpled on the porch a few steps away from you. “Decided I needed t'practice.”

You sighed and waved him over to you, refusing to walk out any further. “Sit down. Calm down.” You sat on the porch and pulled your knees up to your chest. A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips at the action and he fell onto ground next to you with a sigh. “Talk t'me.” You whispered, trying to stop your body from shivering. You were failing and Atsumu noticed.

He sighed and sat up, pulling the blanket over to you both and draping part over his shoulder. He held the other end in his hand and opened his arm. “C’mere.” You almost didn’t hear it, but you welcomed the gesture.

You scooted towards him and fell into his side. He wrapped his arm and the blanket around you and you sighed at the warmth. It seeped from him and radiated under the soft fabric, it slowly lowered the bumps along your arms.

“M’sure ‘Samu told ya he got setter on the team.” You sighed and nodded at the information Atsumu offered. “I wanted it.” He muttered, looking down. You knew that. Of course you’d known that. He thought it was the coolest position and Atsumu always wanted to be the coolest. “It all comes easy t’Samu. I have t'practice.”

“Not at 3am ‘Tsumi.” Your voice didn’t raise above a whisper, the warmth radiating off him and surrounding you seemed to make you more tired. “M’sure that you and ‘Samu will end up in the positions you were made for.” You yawned as you tried to reassure him. Your eyes fluttered closed as your head fell on his shoulder but you kept on. “But ya ain’t gonna get better by not sleepin’.”

“I like ya more when yer not bein’ a meanie.” Atsumu chuckled softly and pulled you a little bit closer to him. He played it as a joke, but there was a fondness that filled him at your assurance, a bit of calm that tugged on his mind.

“I like ya more when you're not bein’ a loudmouth.” You muttered back. You couldn’t bring your eyes to open again, but you could feel as his breathing began to calm down. “We should go back inside ‘Tsumi. S’warmer in there.”

“Jus’ a little longer?” he whispered back, a quietness about his voice that wasn't common. “I’ll keep ya warm a/n/n.”

You hummed in response and let yourself relax into him. “Jus’ a little longer, ‘kay?”

You didn’t remember falling asleep that night, or how you'd ended up back in the house. You could only remember waking up, curled up next to Atsumu instead of Osamu the next morning. You couldn't remember how you'd gotten there and neither of you ever spoke of it again.

AGE 13

Your second year of middle school. Atsumu was at his house less when Osamu and you were both there.

'Tired o’ third wheelin’ ya two as ya bully me.' He’d claimed and told you both he'd picked up new friends and would still be around but that they 'don’t tease me as much.'

You’d both, of course, teased him desperately for it and mocked his claims of 'See, this s’why I hate ya both.'

You would have been lying if you said you didn’t miss seeing Atsumu’s face around — actually, yes, you would be, because Osamu had the same dumb face. The lack of Atsumu only meant that Osamu and you turned your teasing onto each other more. But you could admit that you'd missed Atsumu’s presence now and then, ever the dramatic one of the group.

Don’t get it wrong, you were all three dramatic at your own pace, in your own ways. Growing up with the Miya twins meant developing your own way to display your dramaticism, or over-dramatization.

Osamu may seem mostly inexpressive, but you could almost always tell from just a small crinkle in his eyes, a certain change in their glint, exactly what he was about to do. It was in private that you pulled the most emotions from Osamu, the playful ones and the shouting along at your excitement, not just the anger and competitiveness that Atsumu pulled out of him regularly.

You were quiet most of the time, alike to Osamu in that way. But your quietness seemed to stem more from your shyness than the actual large indifference to the world around you. You had an awful habit of becoming way too easily flustered and the quieter you were the easier you could hide stuttering remarks when you were flustered.

Now maybe you shouldn’t be called shy per se, cause it’s not to say you didn’t get a mouth on you when you wanted to. All your friends, the twins especially, knew that you had a bad habit of running your mouth before your brain caught up. A bad temper, awful habit of taunting, spitting sarcasm like a second language, and getting over-excited way too easily.

But the second Atsumu ran his loud mouth to start taunting you, the only thing that could make your face any hotter was the absolute terror that was Osamu joining him. If they were bad when they were against each other, they were worse when they were teamed up.

But it was an almost comforting feeling having the three of you together. So like you'd said, you’d have been lying if you said you didn’t miss having Atsumu around sometimes. But you’d also be lying that at every moment you were missing him. Because there was one specific moment you were happy he wasn't there for.

A specific moment where you were curled up with Osamu on the couch in the living room. Being the only ones home you'd both decided that watching a movie would be the best way to pass time. Neither of you had really wanted to do the homework you’d been assigned and neither of you had wanted to go out.

You’d made yourselves some food. 'No ‘Tsumu to steal it' Osamu had laughed as you did and pulled a blanket out to the living room to throw on the movie. It was an American comedy that you had already determined could count as studying since it was in English. 'To help us with learnin’ the language, ya know.' You’d laughed while stealing the blanket all to yourself.

It had been you stealing the blanket that had wound you both in the position you ended up in. He’d returned to the couch and nearly physically fought you, trying to wrestle part of the blanket out of your grasp. You’d fallen off the couch in the middle of the struggle, nearly knocking his plate off the table.

“Miysam!” You’d exclaimed with a laugh, your nickname for him flying off your tongue as you tumbled towards the ground. Your limbs tangled in the fabric so you couldn’t rid yourself of it at that point even if you'd tried. Osamu’s mouth had fallen open in shock as he looked down at you, slight worry in his features as his did.

Your groan had been faint as the half of your body in contact with the ground ached from the impact. “Ya almost lost our food. How could’ya.” You'd looked up at him betrayed and were immediately greeted with his loud laugh. The laugh that you had gotten used to sending a warm feeling spreading through your chest.

Your cheeks flared up as you wiggled in the blanket, struggling to move. “Help me out ya idiot!” You'd shouted up at him, trying to control your laughs as you'd squirmed.

“’ey!” He laughed out, grabbing his phone to take a picture of you before even attempting to help. “Ya wan’ help? Don’t insult me, clumsy.” He smiled down at you and then leaned down ‘til his nose almost touched yours. “Say the words if ya want help, clumsy.” He taunted.

Your cheeks had only grown hotter. “I don’t need your help.” You'd shrugged an arm free and easily caught him by the shirt collar, shoving him back towards the couch. He'd laughed as he collapsed onto the couch, drawing you up with him. You'd collapsed on top of him in a fit of giggles.

You had stayed like that for most of the movie, you half on top of him with the blanket wrapped around the both of you. You'd occasionally pushed food into the other’s mouth when you thought the other was talking too much, but towards the end of the movie, you were the only one with any food left.

The main character of your movie on the screen was admitting that she was 25 and had never been kissed before. You'd hummed in thought and lifted your head up from his chest looking up. “What would ya do?” He'd only looked down at you, tilting his head in confusion. “Ya know, if ya were 25 and’d ne’er kissed no one?”

He snorted down at you. “Not gon’ happ’n.”

“I don’ know.” You'd singsonged at him. “That snort was pre’y un’tractive, Miysam.” His jaw went slack and he'd shoved at your face lightly with a laugh.

He'd suddenly went quiet while staring at you. “Wha’ if,” he swallowed and looked to the side away from you, nerves buzzing, “wha’ if we,” he cleared his throat and you'd looked at him expectantly but he'd went quiet. Quieter than his normal self.

You'd caught on, after a moment, to what he was saying and your cheeks flared up again. “I, um,” you were like a dear frozen in the headlights of Osamu’s stare, “you don’ know what yer sayin’.” He sighed and propped himself up more to look down at you.

“Well I jus’ mean I ain’ had ma firs’ kiss,” he'd muttered, his hand coming up to scratch the back of his neck, his grey eyes flitted back and forth across the room, “an’ I know you ain’ had yours yet.” He snuck a look at your face, which you didn’t think could feel any hotter than it was then. “Righ’? I’d’ve heard all ‘bout it.”

“I-” you'd swallowed hard and blinked up at him, thought about lying to him then, then realized you couldn’t, “well, no.” He looked down at you again, and you locked eyes with him, both of you holding your breaths. “I mean, at leas’ we coul’ tease ‘Tsumi ‘bout bein’ the only one ta have not been kissed.” You'd joked with a half smile.

He'd cracked a huge smile and snorted again. “Plus then we don’ gotta worry ‘bout the firs’time bein’ weird.” You'd took a deep breath and nodded.

“Yeah, yeah.” You'd looked at him again and felt your palms get sweaty. You remembered the internal debate, the question of were you really about to kiss your best friend from the last 7 years? The boy whose bed you'd slept in more regularly than your own. You'd might have been more comfortable with him than anyone else but you were both still just awkward 13-year-olds. “How-uh-how should we…” you'd trailed off and gestured awkwardly between the two of you with your hand, suddenly very aware of you were still laid on his chest.

“Um-” he'd looked at you just as awkwardly and shifted under you a little bit, “Gin was kinda talkin’ ‘bout tips for kissin' the other day.” He mumbled and you'd tried not to giggle as his smile turned more nervous. “Could I jus’ try?” You didn’t trust yourself to speak so you'd just awkwardly nodded at him.

He had been careful about placing his hand on your cheek and pulling your faces together. Just before your lips met, your noses smashed together and you pulled away from each other violently. “S’ry.” He winced scrunching his nose.

“A’least that won’ happ’n our firs’time now.” You'd mumbled with a small snort, rubbing your nose. “We can try ‘gain if ya wan’.” He'd nodded his agreement.

Blowing out a puff of air, he'd put his hand back on your face leaning to try again. He'd tilted his head this time and your noses didn’t clash again. You'd squeezed your eyes shut and his lips met yours hastily, pressing together harshly. He'd held you in place for a couple seconds before you both pulled back. Both of your cheeks were flushed, his ears a bright shade of pink.

“That was-” you'd trailed off again, searching for a description.

“Awful.” He muttered and you'd let out a sigh of relief.

“Oh than’ god.” You'd breathed out a laugh and he followed suit. “Thought i’might be jus’ me.” He shook his head and snorted. “Le’s not tell ‘Tsumi?” You asked wanting to forget that it had happened.

He quickly shook his head adamantly in agreement. “Ne’er.” You'd both quickly broke out laughing and separated. “Oh god.” Falling away from each other, he took the chance to suddenly lunge for your food and you screeched in protest.

“Miysam! No! Tha’s mine!” He'd shoved the food in his mouth as you moved to tackle him, both of you protesting, the awkwardness immediately forgotten.

a/n this piece will forever be special in my heart but i'm breaking it into bite-sized pieces lol part two coming soon <3

TAGLIST - OPEN

[heavencanbeaprisontoo]

Imagine Being Thomas Shelby's Twin

Platonic!Shelby Family x Fem!Reader

Various x Shelby!Reader Warnings: Angst, fluff, mentions of past childhood neglect, period-typical sexism. The image below is just to visualize what a twin for Tommy could look like.

“You’re left, I’m right, therefore I’m never wrong.”

Aside from Polly, you know Tommy’s mind the best.

As children, you and Tommy were always together. Tommy would lead the way as you raced from one misadventure to the next. As his right hand it was your obligation to help him execute his tricks. Of which you were eager to join.

It was a common joke between you and Tommy to pretend to read each other’s minds. You would take hours practicing how to mirror each other’s body language and finishing each other’s sentences. The payoff was always excellent, and it resulted in most of Birmingham believing that the two of you had a genuine psychic link. Even as adults, you like to behave as if you can communicate telepathically. With how in tuned you are to one another, that ability could very well be real. 

As teenagers, you and Tommy drifted apart somewhat. He was always on the move. There was always some plot, some brawl, some girl. You were more than willing to help, but you became more of a thinker than a doer. Tommy could see that, and so he left you out in favor of using your brothers instead. Which hurt.

Although Tommy would grow into a prideful young gangster, he was still a dreamer. He would stay up late with you to go over his dreams and schemes. Together, you drafted up a gilded vision of what the Shelby family could be someday. To you, it was a lovely idea. To him, it was a bright future.

Back then, the days were bright and filled with laughter. You had a long line of admirers for your brothers to chase off, and Tommy had an equally long line of girls for you to warn. You used to walk on the sunnier side of life. Always thinking about the good in the world and prone to smoothing over the uglier parts to hide them away. Tommy used to say you had a “head full of flowers.” 

Things changed after the war. 

You absolutely joined your brothers in the war as a volunteer nurse. It was hard to leave home, but you had to stand by your brothers. Nothing could have prepared you for what lied ahead. 

Tommy was a different person when he came back, so were you. You still liked to laugh and dance, but your laugh felt hollow. He started talking about changing the family’s fortune much more often. Almost every night after the war he would stay up with you, planning all the ways he could strike gold. This time, you weren’t just dreaming, you were plotting right along with him. 

No matter the cost, you would see your family rise.

Aside from Polly, you know Tommy’s mind the best. You know when he’s lying, even when he’s lying to himself. When nobody can get through to him, they go to you. For your siblings, you act as an excellent sounding board for their potential requests or inquiries. Of course, Tommy can always tell when John or Arthur had spoken to you before pitching an idea to him… but it’s fine.

You are the right to his left and the heart to his mind. Together, you two are dangerously close to a functioning human being.

To Tommy, you are a sensitive spot. He bends easier to demands you make and he tends to listen more to your words. You are also someone that makes him very vulnerable. There are things Tommy has told you that no one knows about, not even Grace.

If you must accompany him to meet with potential associates and rivals, he keeps you close. 

That certainly hasn’t stopped certain men from trying to charm you. Billy Kimber, Darby Sabini, Alfie Solomons, Luca Changretta, Jack Nelson, and (sadly) Mr. Oswald Moseley. All the boys can’t help but turn their heads as you walk by. And it leaves your brother mildly stressed as they lose focus on the meeting to watch you reapply your lipstick.

Oswald seems the most determined to have his way with you. Something about having you would be the greatest victory against Tommy, fucking his precious twin. Luckily, you see through him and are disgusted. The same cannot be said for other would-be suitors.

Alfie Solomons has a sort of rawness that you find refreshing. He speaks in riddles and yet is unblinkingly straightforward. You like the way he tips his hat to you. Luca Changretta is one man you still think about at night. Had the mess with Angel Changretta never happened, you feel like you could've been happily married to a man like Luca. Jack Nelson has caused you almost as many problems as Alfie. He speaks plainly but not without calculation. The way he flirts is so smooth you forget it's happening. Tommy has refused your offers to go to America in his stead.

When and if you marry, it’s likely the marriage would be to someone Tommy sees as an asset. He won’t just let his good twin marry some oaf with no prospects. Expect him to demand a bride price for you along with a caravan filled with goods. 

For Tommy, you are his humanity. The side of him that still sees God in all things. The part of him that may yet go to heaven when she dies. Tommy must protect you, even as he resents you. If he were to ever lose you, God save his enemies.

[angelsdean]

Jack: Yeah, he-he wasn't all bad, my dad. Uh, that's what makes our parents loom so large in our heads, I think. They're… a million things to us all at once.

And even after they're long gone, we're stuck with them. Can't help it. They're inside of us. You know, my whole life, I promised myself I'd be nothing like him, but…I ended up just like him.

Kevin: No, Dad. You're way better than him.

Jack: Thank you, my son. And you're gonna be way better than me.

— 5x07, This Is Us

[fore-seer]

insane about lucina today

[neverendingford]

.

[iicarused]

##most desired

y!vox x reader // y!alastor x reader // y!adam x reader

synopsis: two overlords and an angel who are insufferably in love with you. // she / her pronouns

beware: DARK THEMES // obsessive behaviour, heavy yandere aspects, stalking,

notes: the most y/n thing i ever made

you were one of the first overlords of hell that remained in the same rank to this day. everyone knew of you and dared not whisper your name in fear that you would come for them. they saw you in the streets or at downtown bars, sometimes at a corner table of ozzie’s. you were a mystery that preferred bringing misery.

little to no people knew of your background. it was swept under the rug to never be looked at again, and maybe lucifer helped with that. you were an angel before, way back when the rules were more strict and heaven was nothing more than a guarded kingdom.

“just one chance, y/n!” adam urged. “one date — that is all i ask for!”

you scoffed at his antics, growing used to his advances of being asked for your hand. “how many times do i have to say i’m not interested? i have work. get going before sera is on my ass.”

sera. your old boss and best friend — everything you worked towards was being at her level — instead came crashing down when you disagreed with the exterminations. adam watched you fall, but sera was the cause.

downstairs, lucifer helped cover it up. it was big talk around hell for quite some time until it was thrown under the rug and you could live in peace. while your power cannot compare to the rulers of hell, it comes close. you’re just careful of not showing that.

the radio demon always shown great interest in you — not that he knew you personally — but enjoyed your story like an old tale. while he isn’t sure which story is the real one, he enjoys the theories that you were just a hellborn that came up.

it was rosie who connected you both. she was a friend of yours, and one of the best cooks you’ve ever known.

“oh my stars! alastor! you have to come meet one of my good friends, you are going to love her!” rosie beckoned. “she is such a pumpkin and the cutest thing! oh, there she is! y/n!, over here sweet pea!” she strides towards your seated area.

you watched your friend gleefully place a hand on the man’s arm, her signature grin tugging at her lips. “this is alastor. alastor, this is y/n.”

it was nice to finally place a face to the name! he had a fondness to you from the start: sat with you at the small of your booth and chatted until nightfall, completely in awe of your welcoming personality.

but why wouldn’t you be welcoming? you are one of the main overlords, what is there to fear when nearly everyone is below you? alastor felt a sort of connection, a relation that you are no different than him.

his admiration only begins to grow from here and continues the more you interact. slowly, he becomes a part of your daily life and starts showing you off to the world that you are an “acquaintance.”

now it was no lie that your name started to spread around hell like a wildfire, especially to know your hiatus is officially over. back to the present of downtown bars and corner table at ozzie’s for dinner — your face was back up to being recognizable — and it was a wonderful change

it would not be until recent years when you would finally meet vox at an overlord meeting: his personality nearly matched yours. if not, then you both had a click that had you both in deep conversation right after.

you could imagine alastors dislike towards that interaction

“so you’re the big talk of hell, huh?” the host approached you with confidence inside and out. “my, what a pretty face! it’s practically made for television, how about we do something about that?” the moment brought your hand to shake his, vox brought you to his side with an arm over your shoulder as he walked you to your seat.

“what do you have in mind?” now, normally you don’t condone this behaviour — but he really piqued your interest. “it’s not like my face isn’t already noticed on the streets, for what reason does it need to be on billboards?”

“stunning features like yours should be shown off, and not just for the streets,” he emphasized. “here’s my card, we could talk more later, dear.”

alastor had a full front view of this interaction and a perfect angle of vox’s smug expression when he watched you tuck the card in your pocket.

now don’t get me wrong, adam has been watching.

he couldn’t let his sweetheart just go to hell like that! littered with sinners and demons and— you get the point. it was hard to recognize him with the mask he now wore, especially since he never made the effort to show himself to you.

what if you were angry at him? he seen your face fall when the topic of exterminating these wretched souls came up. he made a point to his angels that they do not touch a strand of your hair.

he can’t keep himself away from you though, not when there’s no bastards that are getting too cozy with you. his plans of coming back into your life needing to take a charge and fast.

coming down as he pleases to just see you, often keeping his mask on so no demon can see how he looks like. whisking you into the sky so you won’t be able to get away from him

he has your wings on display in heaven, don’t worry about it.

vox and alastor coming to find out someone from the heavens is coming to see you? this is by far the first time in history they will ever come into an agreement of something: no angel hands should ever touch your skin.

alastor makes it a point to constantly whisk you to the hotel, or sometimes his radio station to hide. “they won’t find you here, sweetheart! i’ll keep you safe.”

the way all three of them would become more and more possessive the more time you are with one or the other. you can’t say no, there is denial when wanting to just stay home alone. someone is always at your hip.

there is only so much time where you either kill one of them or they take you and hide forever: but forever isn’t long when adam has his angels searching for you each year.

“c’mon babe! we could go back up to heaven, i’ll pull some strings!” adam often confides.

“we could rule over hell with no one to undermine our power if we took the chance!” vox would persuade.

“we could hide forever and live however you desire if you just take my hand.” alastor chimes.

having these 3 men after you is something you do not want, especially when their obsession levels keep rising. at this rate, murder is an option. it’s only the matter of time.

[ghostgirl101]

Imagine if Paul Atreides claimed you as his destiny: PART Ⅰ of Ⅱ

|| Word Count: 1.5K || Angst → Fluff ||

A/N: I had this as a big idea that I had to get down before the basic headcanons and stuff, so here's my take on our Lisan al Gaib 😎 if you like this then hit me up for some relationship headcanons and the like, I'm up for it all. Enjoy reading or watching the movie if you haven't already - I'm going again lol, and screen X is the best way to experience it fr Also I feel like I should write a second part to this lmao, if you liked what you read?

You weren't one for dreams of destiny.

The dreams you had seemed meaningless, confusing, nothing to do with what ifs and what could. Not like his.

But you always seemed to feel some kind of atmosphere, an aura you couldn't quite shake off, even when you woke up from the darkness. There was no face to go with the voice, the voice in the dark that called to you in whispers that you didn't understand. Beautiful words that weren't yours, but sounded so soft and gentle and powerful, as they reached out to you from distant lands.

You could never place them, pin them down and study them, understand them, until the day the Emperor was challenged by a ghost of a lost House, thought to be dead, left to be forgotten. You stand near the Emperor and his guards and men, the Great Houses looming and listening from higher above, as the Fremen fill up the space to watch the confrontation in spirited anticipation.

The life debt was paid. The late Emperor was overthrown. The ascendancy of Paul Atreides rose and took from the throne to claim it.

His attention flicks from his eyes boring coldly into the Emperor's, to meet yours, his voice smooth and set, full of conviction and force.

"Our destiny is together. I'll take her."

Your eyes widen slightly as his words sink in, blinking through the shock and incredulity that rushes through you and makes your heart race in apprehension and wonder. Though his voice twins with your wandering dreams, you don't know whether to feel fascination and longing, or fear and cautiousness at some greater force beyond your understanding, playing out before your very eyes.

"I..." your voice falters in uncertainty and disbelief, and you try again. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me well," Paul responds with an undying, stoic certainty that's almost unnerving. "As I know you."

His eyes study you, his Spice-stained blue eyes bleeding into yours, scanning every freckle on your face and curve of your outfit. Assessing you, knowing you, ridiculous throngs of power filling his aura and projecting onto you with his intense stare. You have to fight not to shiver under it, ultimately failing.

"What of me?" is the wisest reply you can think of before the silence stretches into dangerous uncertainty.

"Everything," Paul says evenly, but there's no mistaking the challenge and determination in his tone, almost daring you to reject him, to disagree, a built-up desire of dreamt promises resolving his stand. "I choose you, as my Empress. We will rule together, over the Empire."

Scepticism and bewilderment washes over you and makes your blood heat and stir, retreating into silence as he takes a step closer to you, gazing at you as if you're the most curious, exotic being he's ever seen.

Desire threatens to override Paul Atreides' reason, clinging onto the hope and chance of a narrow way through to light, a light that could only be sought out with you by his side. Without you, there was nothing in sight but pools of blood replacing luscious marine life and oceans running through Arrakis, disarray and disillusion at every turn and infecting every heart.

You were absolutely perfect.

And you were already his, long before this moment, before you and he were born into the world and named. There was no manipulation needed, because everything was laid out for him to take, welcoming him to rule and grow higher and higher. Fate had bonded you and strung you along to here and now, and as you blink up into his bright eyes that narrow slightly at you, frowning softly as if you hadn't understood his demand.

"Do you know what I am?"

You pause for a moment, speaking slowly and cautiously, as the crowd of Fremen and the wary, late Emperor watch on in tense wordlessness. "You are Leto Atreides' son. Former Duke of Caladan."

"What I am," Paul repeats evenly, "not who I am." He stares at you in silence for another beat, before speaking up again. "Do you know of the Bene Gesserit?"

You stop yourself from glancing in Lady Jessica's direction just in time; the runes patterning her skin, her once soft eyes now spiked with an unfamiliar darkness of ages past. Anyone could get trapped in her watchful glare, and her son's holds almost as much intensity.

"No," you decide on hesitantly.

"Kwisatz Hederach," he adds, taking another step forward until you can feel his breath tickling your cheeks, standing above you with unspoken grace and vigor. "I see the future. A part of me is the future."

His hand is suddenly squeezing yours warmly and tightly, making you flinch slightly and glance down at them before looking back up at him.

"In this future, I am with you."

All you can do is stare at him in awe and wariness, not knowing whether to let your curiosity guide you, or distance yourself as far as possible from the boy who reigns over the dunes.

"Why?" you whisper, the crowds seeming to fade around you as you focus on the boy in front of you, his fingers tangling with yours boldly.

"I've seen it," Paul insists, his tone a touch softer in thought and wistfulness. "All of it. When I am with you..." His grip tightens over yours, the fire in his eyes returning. "We're unstoppable."

"And..." your words dry before you can speak them, and you will yourself to go on, unable to break away from the deep blue hues of his gaze. "And without?"

His jaw visibly clenches at your question, and his hand drops yours, shaking his head only answer as he glances away in slight frustration.

"You don't have the leisure of choice. It's all been made for you, written in the sands and stars, and what you need to do is walk in its path. I will show you the way. You have no other. Do you understand?"

The firmness is strong in his words and glare, making you look away from him too, still in a slight stun over the rush of events. In less than a day, your freedom has been stripped to this young man's desires and destiny, entwined with yours. You, who barely knew him until now, only familiar with his voice, his words, that echoed and rang in your head like a lullaby.

But this feels so harsh and strict. The eyes of the former Emporer linger between the two of you, and Paul's army of Fremen stand behind him attentively, some gazing at you in admiration and hope, of their messiah's promised bride. And she is beautiful.

"That's unfair."

"The future is unfair," Paul says calmly, his collected, cool tone wavering for a moment. "But it will be so much worse without you by my side, and I will not accept that. Not for my people... not for myself."

You stare at him in fascination and caution, lost for words. His fingers rise to brush against the skin of your cheek, sending tingles in their wake and making you fight back the automatic reaction, your eyes following his surprisingly gentle touch. Two fingers trace down the shape of your cheek down to your chin, tilting your head slightly upwards. Just one step closer, and your lips would be touching too.

"Name anything," he murmurs to you, the Fremen straining to hear his voice as it reaches you effortlessly, his expression earnest and determined. "Anything. And it is yours. Only if you willingly wed me in turn. Not as a concubine, nor a mistress."

You blink, then blink again, taken aback as a million thoughts and suggestions race through your mind and make your head spin for a split second. You glance at the elder Emperor, who gazes back at you and the infamous Lisan al Gaib wearily, his eyes clouded with sombreness and light spite.

"I... I don't," you shake your head, overwhelmed by an impossible choice. "I don't know..."

Paul's expression softens into a smile you haven't seen before, one that makes your cheeks flush with colour as you watch him; a gentle, amused smile that's somehow familiar and unfamiliar all at once, one meant just for you, as he disregards his surroundings.

"You will know," he replies quietly, "and I will have you, and protect you, rule with you. Love you. As I am meant to."

Paul suddenly brings you closer, pulling you into a searing kiss without warning. The exotic, earthy taste of the Spice on his tongue floods your senses and sends shudders of ecstasy and heat coursing under your skin and hushing the myriad of thoughts buzzing in your mind in an instant.

When he pulls away, all too soon, you find yourself chasing his lips before you catch yourself, and Paul gives you another soft smile, his forehead resting against yours as your eyes lock.

"And as I long to," he finishes against your lips, his words grounded with a look of protectiveness and desire that makes you instinctively relax further in his hold.

⊹⊹⊹

From beyond you both, his mother smiles slightly at the scene, a hand hovering over her rounded stomach.

The first step has been made.

══════════════⊹⊱≼ part two coming soon ≽⊰⊹══════════════