Tumgik
#(if people won't strangle me)
luckyarchivist · 2 months
Text
Touchstarved LIs and Fanfiction AUs They Should Be In
Haven't been able to stop thinking about the people who said Ais is "always the tattoo artist in tattoo shop/flower shop AU". I don't even like tattoo shop/flower shop like that but it was such a correct thing to say and I have to acknowledge that. So here's that plus AUs I've seen that I think the LIs should be in.
Ais
Flower shop/tattoo shop, as mentioned. This one is TOO good. Come ON. Ais as the hot-ass owner of the local tattoo shop? Him listening to your idea for a tattoo and then smoothly and easily inking it into your skin and telling you you're good when you don't cry? I don't even need to explain this one. It makes sense in like every way.
NASCAR/Formula One AU. The idea of him getting out of that car sweaty as hell in the full racing suit after crushing a track record? Like, taking off the helmet and shaking his hair out and looking like he couldn't give less of a shit about winning first place? Yeah. I am not immune to vroom vroom
Mermaid AU but he's a bull shark or an octopus, not a fish. IDK if I want his claspers or his tentacles more, but either way he should be lurking in the briny deep and protecting me from the real ocean monsters and threatening to eat me even though he probably doesn't mean it, probably.
Vere
Magic/Witches AU. - C'monnnn, he's already so witchy! He's got the sleeves and everything. And yes I know TS already has magic in it, but you know what I mean. He, like, lives in the spooky forest and the people of the village are deathly afraid of him, but you need his magical help, so against the wishes of family and friends you seek him out. And he forces you through a series of dangerous illusions as a trial and, when you successfully pass them, finally agrees to help you for a price...
Royalty AU as either the capricious king of a powerful nation or that king's advisor, formal or informal (smart concubine). I've never seen Game of Thrones but that kind of castle politics, shadowy backstabbing shit seems right up his alley.
Modern AU as an artist: I already talked about this with Vere as an artist and game dev, but I think it'd be so funny if Vere was just sitting in a coffee shop (local, Starbucks is below him) trying to finish his commissions in peace because his roommate(s) are annoying and/or distracting. Honestly, Vere would also rock as a modern AU witch, like urban fantasy type.
Leander
Barista/Bartender AU. He's so extroverted and congenial I have to put him in a drink service AU. He definitely has a "time to mix drinks and save lives" type of work ethic behind the counter. He remembers regular customers and their drink orders, he is LIBERAL with discounts, and he leaves little notes to the people he thinks are cute.
Serial killer AU. I am so basic and even though I have no desire to watch or listen to true crime now, I was raised on the Investigation Discovery Channel and I've never lost that. Look at his fucking face. He's asking for it to be covered in blood. Even better if this is combined with the above AU and he's a sweet server by day and a ruthless murderer by night but he keeps the same wide, pleasant, and genuine smile on because both things are things he loves to do. Even BETTER if he has an obsession with one of his regulars and starts killing people around them in an attempt to get closer with them.
Theatre AU. Siiiighs. Yeah, I'm a theatre kid. And I just know this guy would be one of those actors who wants to be a mentor/older brother figure for any new troupe-members. He's walking you through all the vocal warmups. He's offering to help you run lines. He's driving you home after rehearsals. He is a triple threat, but he doesn't prefer musicals because he doesn't like singing in front of an audience (even though he's an amazing singer). And I just know props absolutely hates him because he keeps touching shit that isn't his.
Kuras
Hospital AU and Angels/Demons AU is too easy. Instead, I'm giving him the flower shop owner in flower shop/tattoo shop AU. Anyone here like KurAis? Anyways, I think it would be sweet to have him be the super-tall, kind but a little awkward and very knowledgeable owner of a flower shop. He probably enjoys crafting bouquets that have meaning in flower language. And yes, he knows about the nice meanings and the rude meanings, so you can get a "fuck you" bouquet from Kuras.
Detroit Become Human AU as an android. I barely remember D:BH but it was one of the first things that occurred to me when thinking about AUs for Kuras. Maybe because he'd be the kind of android who was like, "Don't worry, I'm not a real person, it's okay if I get shot repeatedly," and wouldn't understand why someone would be concerned about him anyways.
Elementary school teacher/single parent AU but I don't know if I want him to be the teacher or the parent. Do I want him to look after a group of children, making efforts to understand their silly little words and communicate with them so they learn and feel cared for? Or do I want him to be the struggling single parent who is so happy to see their child finally getting the attention they deserve outside the house? IDK, but I'd be happy either way.
Mhin
Superhero AU. They're kinda already halfway to superhero gear with the hood and the cape and the tight pants, but I think it be cool for them to dart from rooftop to rooftop, saving civilians and fighting crime. IDK if it'd be cooler if they were half-hero half-villain (controlled by their bird-monster side and wreaking havoc) or if it'd just be nice to have a crow hero motif. Anyway they save me and I'm a reporter who uses my reporter contacts to try and track them down not knowing they're actually my upstairs neighbor who I bring shepherd's pie and strawberry cupcakes to sometimes.
The other tattoo artist in tattoo shop/flower shop. You know how there's always some other character working in one or both of the shops? Ayeah that's Mhin. Number one, I think it'd be hot if they had tattoos. But even if they don't they're still hot when they give the tattoo because focus and skill are attractive. They're talented enough that Ais keeps them around even though they hate him. They never talk to him even though he's their boss. Over the course of the fic Mhin and Ais get closer b/c Kuras is friends with both of them and he wants them to like each other.
Angel/Demon AU as an angel because I want them to be corrupted :) I want them to be forced to submit to their own worst impulses :) and eventually realize that being evil makes them feel good and more importantly liberated and in control :) also maybe they can get wrecked by a demon please :)
Aaaand the DLC cast gets one as a treat!
Sen
Pacific Rim AU but PLEASE don't ask me why. I don't even REMEMBER Pacific Rim. But the clarity with which I could imagine Sen in a Pacific Rim AU is startling. She's gruff and she doesn't want to partner up with you, a rookie, but somehow you have perfect chemistry in the mech she doesn't want to acknowledge. She's too reckless out of disregard for her life, and you reel her in; you're inexperienced, and she fixes your mistakes. Then one day she starts to notice that she's guarding her own life more fiercely than ever before...because of you.
If that's not what Pacific Rim is about shhhh don't correct me /j
Elyon
Easy answer is pornstar/industry AU or camming AU but I'll never take the easy way out. And I know we don't know shit about the guy but I think reincarnation AU would kinda hit with him. His promo talks about wanting things money can't buy? Like possibly the ability to save his soulmate from dying and forgetting him over and over while he retains the memories of every life they've both shared and lived separately, as friends, lovers, enemies, and strangers? That would go hard imo.
If you read all of that, thanks! I hope you enjoyed~
125 notes · View notes
thoughtfulfangirling · 2 months
Text
I say this with the utmost affection, but I'm two hours from being done with Wuthering Heights (83%), and @docholligay wtf 😂😂 Brutal. It's brutal hahhaa
17 notes · View notes
keeps-ache · 22 days
Text
outside once again for designated outside time
#just me hi#the sun. ouuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuh#it's nice rn :3👍#//thinking of writing/drawing !! ?#i am PUMPED but it's the kind where it has no rhyme or reason so i just sit here vibrating hfbhs#i have GOT to finish a thang by today or i won't have it ready for tomorrow#so i SHOULD do that..#gotta redo the sketch tho. cuz the initial idea is Way too much for the time i've got fbhs#not something i usually say but i am Always getting blindsided by the complications that come with animation lolll#i think 'oh i like drawing characters over and over again! this should be fun' but it is NOT the same#//WHERE YA THINK YA GOIN BABY HEEEYY I JUST MET YOU-#//cough anyway yea lol :3#was also thinking i was gonna come out of my pi.e brain but i really heard One good song and oh there i go again hfbvshvf :D#it's just [strangling gesture (positive)] you know ?#Oh i made a thing for that too but i'll post it in a minute lol :)#//anyway speaking of designated outside time can SOMEBODY take me to a riverfront Please#i miss skating at the riverfront hbsh#cuz it was Always empty (except for the people fishing n they never moved from the railing) and i could go So Fast#i get kinda wobbly now though i gotta work on that lol :>#+ i wanna learn how to do jumps again. those were fun :D#my brother reed could JUMP though dude#the one time we went to open street they had ramps out and he was FLYING hfbsh#/though also speaking of that i think i'm getting better at turns again :D#it's taking a minute to remember how to use my feet but i'm getting there >:3#//okey i'm gonna go spin now though :>>>#ooo toodles ooooo [ghosts away] !
3 notes · View notes
Text
Imma rant a bit about Warrior Nun in my personal blog after midnight... don’t take me too seriously
I come back to tumblr after weeks of being busy only to see Warrior Nun everywhere... So... Where were ya guys months ago when I started watching the first season making fun of the whole premise and thinking it was gonna suck??? ??
I kept watching the dumb (affectionate) protagonist thirst after a guy, thinking I was going to have to endure heterosexuality (the horror) just to see the tiny nuns kicking ass
I was completely unprepared in any way, shape or form to see one of the badass nuns come out as gay... and even more unprepared for everything that came after that!!!!
I did NOT sign up for some soft slowburn wlw romance... I was NOT mentally equipped to handle that like a normal person...
Also, even without the cherry on top that is the wlw romance, the series is actually very well written...like... the title and the netflix summary make it sound like it’s going to be a silly series about demons and secret agent nuns?... It does not make the series justice in ANY way... Yes, the summary is exactly what you get... but also not in the dumbass way I thought I would get it?? I should feel cheated but I don’t (the only thing I regret is that the summary didn’t make me want to stop everything and immediately watch the series the moment I found it and added it to my list a year or so ago)
Don’t let the name fool ya, heck, don’t even let the first episode lull ya to a false sense of security with its silly protagonist making fun of the whole situation in the cheesy voice overs. This series might feel like a joke for the first 2 or 3 eps... but it WILL hit you and hit you HARD when ya least expect it.
Believe me, this is very well written and it will use that power to rip your heart out in the best but most evil ways... Therefore I require a couple more seasons of this particular brand of pain, please and thank you
In conclusion... if ya like well thought out series with cool fight scenes (and don’t mind more than a bit of blood from time to time) you should check Warrior Nun! It’s also multilingual and all the women are very cool. Also there’s some romance in there, but you’ll have to wait for that one...it’s worth it but you shouldn’t go into this just for that, enjoy the entire ride!
16 notes · View notes
luveline · 9 months
Note
jadey!! would you ever write something for spencer where reader gets tipsy/drunk and is all over him? i just think he would be so cute and flustered, especially if she isn’t usually this forward with him (either established relationship or mutual crushing!)
thanks for your request lovely♡ —you really want spencer to be your boyfriend. fem!reader, 1k
The smell of your lip balm is the very first thing Spencer acknowledges, rather than the soft press of your lips to his cheek, or your hand on his neck. When he does realise you're kissing him it's like a shock to the system; Spencer hadn't thought about what his neck might feel like to a new hand until you're cupping it sweetly, hadn't worried about the neatness of his hair before you ran a hand over it with reverence. 
"Thanks for coming to pick me up," you say, wrapping your arms around his neck. "Best boyfriend ever." 
Which is a great sentiment and all, but Spencer isn't your boyfriend. He holds your back in one arm, the other busy strangling his shiny car keys, his mind racing. He isn't your boyfriend. Right? You have to ask someone for it to be official (according to Derek, Penelope, and Emily) (JJ was a little more lax about it) and Spencer's been too scared to ask you. 
"Are you okay?" he asks softly. You're wobbly. 
"Super drunk," you say, like it's one word, a diagnosable affliction. "Sorry." 
"Hey, it's okay. You don't have to be sober for me to drive you home. I'm really glad you called me." 
You're drunk enough to miss his confused tones. "No,  I'm sorry 'cos I knew you'd say yes even though you hate driving. I honestly didn't even think you had a car." 
Spencer pulls you closer as a couple stumbles out of the same bar you'd been inside of, though when he arrived you were sitting on the cold sidewalk with your knees pulled up and your dress slipping out of place. He adjusts his grip to put an arm under yours and begins leading you toward to the parking lot. 
"Next time, I'll come inside to get you, okay? I don't think I need statistics to remind you that it's not safe to be inebriated by yourself in the city, especially now." It's pitch black outside, stars like a scattering of tint salt grains visible to only the most dedicated of eyes. "It's dangerous for you. I don't mind coming in to find you." 
"You're the nicest," you declare, letting your head fall onto his shoulder. 
He's fitter than he used to be, but Spencer doesn't have a chance of getting you to the car if you're not conscious. "Hey, keep your eyes open. It's not far, okay? Work with me."
"Will you call me something nice if I do?" you ask. 
Spencer helps you down off of the curb and across a naked stretch of asphalt shining like grease in the light from the lamppost. "I'll call you whatever you want me to." 
"You called me pretty on Thursday." 
Spencer feels the heat of a blush blooming at your slurred proclamation but doesn't back down. "You looked pretty on Thursday. You look pretty every single day. Watch the curb." 
"What about, uh, pet names?" 
"Like what?" he asks. 
"Like honey, and sweetheart. Angel, doll, dove." 
"Is that what you want?" he asks, trying to sneak a look at your face. You're concentrating hard on your footsteps, your tall shoes slippery on the wet ground. 
"If we're together…" 
"Are we together?" Spencer asks. He shouldn't ask while you're drunk, and it's not like he's going to take your word for it now over any sober discussion in the future, but he wants to know. 
"You don't think we're together?" you ask, frowning. He's horrified to see the crushed tremble in your lip. 
"I haven't had the chance to ask you yet," he says quickly. 
You sniffle, looking at him with a wide-eyed hope. "But you're going to ask me?" 
"Yeah, I'm going to ask you." He lowers his voice. He's not afraid of other people hearing him. If anything, he's afraid you will. He's afraid you'll hear him and reject him, despite every sign that says you won't. "I've wanted to ask you for a really long time, but you're– I was scared. You're beautiful, and kind, and you make me feel like I've found something I was missing, now. I guess I thought holding off would change the odds." 
"I thought you got banned from all those casinos," you say, clinging to his arm. 
Spencer's nose wrinkles. "What does that have to do with anything?" 
"You count cards and pr… probability," —you sound it out— "right? Have you not been doing that with me?" 
Spencer stops walking to help you pull your jacket back onto your bare shoulder. It's too cold to stay out here long. "It's different. You're different." 
"Oh." You smile at him dreamily. Eyes squinting until your lashes kiss in the corners, you smile like your lips have been stuck together with honey. You pout at him very gently, and he thinks you might want a kiss.
Spencer pats your back. "Come on. I'll take you home. You can sleep it off." 
"Can I come home with you?" 
He sees his car in the distance, a beacon of hope. "Yeah, if you want. But I don't have any pyjamas or anything for you." 
"Not yet," you say. 
Spencer goes pink to the ears, and unfortunately for him, you notice. You refuse to walk a step further, throwing heavy arms over his shoulders to beam at him eye to eye. Your fingers tangle gently into the ends of his hair and twist in circles that have butterflies exploding in his stomach. His breath catches when you tug on a strand, clearly bemused. 
"I really want to be your girlfriend." 
"I–" He swallows roughly. "I really want you to be my girlfriend." 
"Will you ask me?" 
"Tomorrow?" he asks delicately. He might be shy with you, but he has no qualms now showing you how vehemently he returns your affections, his arms curling slowly but surely behind your back. 
You fall into his arms for another hug. "Yesssss," you cheer under your breath. 
He sneaks a kiss against the shell of your ear. "Wanna go get something to eat first?" 
You gasp like you've been offered the world. "You really are the best boyfriend." 
3K notes · View notes
the-modern-typewriter · 7 months
Note
Your work inspires me so much! Could I request a villain x hero where they’re both mutually in love but the villain, is very much a villain and murders people and the hero feels betrayed, and hates the fact they still love the villain (bonus for the villain doing it out of jealousy 🥺💕) don’t feel pressured to write this ofc! Thank you for taking the time to read and have a good day / evening and thank you for the content you produce ❤️
The hero scrubbed harder at their hands when they heard the bathroom door open behind them. Their shoulders tensed. Their jaw locked.
They didn't look up at the mirror.
"You're upset," the villain said, finally.
The hero snarled, wordlessly. Their skin was beginning to look flayed. Red from the hot water. Clean. Not clean enough.
"You know who I am," the villain pressed. "You know what I'm capable of. I've never hid it, never pretended to be something other than what I am."
"You killed them."
"I've killed before."
"Oh, well. That makes it all so much better then, doesn't it?"
The villain stepped closer. They gently took hold of the hero's wrist with one hand and firmly closed the tap with the other.
The hero whirled, wrenching back and shoving.
Part of them expected the villain to instantly lunge; slam them right back against a wall, leaving the two of them struggling. It was worse that the villain immediately put their hands up in placating, 'okay, I won't touch you', surrender.
It was too damn reasonable.
The villain's expression, through the blurry fury of the hero's tears, was too damn concerned.
The hero swiped at their cheeks, teeth practically bared. "Fuck you."
"Oh, I wish that was the mood, right now."
"You killed them because you were jealous."
The villain's head tilted.
"Don't deny it," the hero snapped.
"I wasn't denying thing. Outside of a court of law, I rarely do."
"This isn't a joke!"
"I wasn't joking, love."
"Don't call me that!"
The villain folded their arms across the chest, and for a moment the hero thought they might walk out and come back later 'after the hero had calmed down'. They leaned back against the bathroom door instead, shutting it.
The hero gulped. They took a step closer, fists raised - wanting to - needing to - they ended up hurling their shaking hands back to their sides.
"You know," their voice cracked. "I defend you to people. Did you know that? I tell them that you're not so bad. Ruthless, yeah, but you're not a monster. You have a code. You love me."
"I do love you, which is why I would never ask you to defend me."
"Like that's the point here!"
"Then what is the point?" the villain asked. Calm. Implacable.
"You're better than this. You're supposed to be better. You don't just - just kill people. Not because of me."
"Ah." The villain's gaze flicked down the hero's arms. "You feel you have blood on your hands."
"No. That's not it."
"Isn't it?"
"It's about you being morally reprehensible."
"Yeah, but we knew I was morally reprehensible, didn't we? Just as we both know I pretend otherwise sometimes when I can make it easy for you."
The hero made a strangled sound. Even if they did know that. Especially because they knew that.
The villain shrugged. "If it makes you feel better, it's not your fault. Yes, I was jealous that you were spending a lot of time fighting them. But on the other hand, they were also a morally reprehensible person, so really if I'm going to kill anyone it should be the people like me. I thought you'd be pleased."
"Pleased?!"
"Well, that I'm channelling my violent tendencies in a societally friendly way. You wanted to stop them too. Does the end not justify the means?"
The hero stared at them, aghast. They genuinely weren't sure if the villain was joking or not. They did not look like they were joking.
"I hate you," the hero said. "So much."
"Yes."
"That's all you have to say? Yes?"
"I'm not an easy creature to love," the villain said, softly. "Of course you hate me sometimes. Otherwise loving me would be unbearable."
"It is unbearable."
Some of the calm slipped from the villain's face; a flinch of pain.
it didn't make the hero feel better. It just made their hands feel more bloodied, more like the villain's hands. Hurting things.
"You know," the villain said. "You're not easy either. I limit my nature a lot for you. I compromise for you all the time."
"It's not a compromise when my demand is asking you not to kill people!"
"I've never asked you to stop risking your life to save people."
"That's not the same thing!"
"Hurts the same amount.," the villain said quietly.
The hero didn't know what to say to that. The two of them stared at each other from across the bathroom, the hero still shaking violently. "I don't want to do this right now," they managed to say, and it was only a little wobbly. "I can't deal with you right now."
"I wanted to check you're alright."
"Yeah? I'm not."
The villain bit their lip. "I really didn't think you'd react this badly. I wouldn't have done it if I thought it would upset you this much."
The hero closed their eyes, because it was true and it was terrible. Another treacherous tear spilled over their cheek. They dashed it away.
"What do you need?" the villain asked. "You should have water or you'll get a headache."
"I want you to leave."
"Are you going to put your hands under the tap again if I leave?"
The hero glared at them.
The villain's defences were back up again, so they merely raised an eyebrow. "I'll be outside, then."
"I thought you were better," the hero said. "You were supposed to be better."
The villain paused, one hand on the door, considering that perhaps.
"No," they said, after a moment, like the hero was the one who had committed some great and grave betrayal. "You just started pretending."
They shut the door behind them.
982 notes · View notes
artaxlivs · 10 months
Text
"What is it?" Eddie asks, dipping down to brush the tip of his nose against Steve's bicep.
"No," Steve shakes his head, hides his face between his shoulder and his pillow, "you'll laugh."
"I always laugh, Harrington." Eddie grins, bites the meat of Steve's arm playfully, "Bullying you is how I express my love."
Steve snorts out a laugh, rolls himself halfway up and yanks Eddie in to tuck under his chin before curling around him. "You must really love me."
Eddie noses along his jaw, kisses the underside, sticks out his tongue and licks it, "I really do." And he does. Obsessively. Who wouldn't? Steve is...perfect. But real, too. Sweet and kind. A little bitchy. Kind of an air head. Great ass. Hands that can make Eddie hard from across a room. And that side smile? Fuck. Yeah, he really does.
"Tell me," Eddie demands, pushing Steve over onto his back and grappling his hands until he's holding them down on the pillows next to Steve's head.
Steve's pupils dilate, his breath catches but he wrestles Eddie back over onto his back, flipping their positions again, "If you tempt me with that sweet ass of yours, Eds, I won't tell you." Then he sort of growls, dipping down to nibble up the column of Eddie's throat, pressing his hands into the pillows, tangling their fingers together as he slides his legs down and presses his hips into Eddie's.
Groaning and arching up into it, Eddie moans, "You're being distracting on purpose!"
Leaving a trail of wet lip prints, Steve kisses down Eddie's chest, whispers, "Am I?" into the warm skin there. Sinks his teeth in gently, makes Eddie pull a breath in sharp between his teeth as he writhes under Steve.
"Steeeve." Eddie whines. Then he almost gets the wind knocked out of him as Steve clamors up and flops down flat on his chest like damn golden retriever.
"Okay, okay, I'll tell you." Steve says, biting his own lip and looking down into Eddie's eyes. He's nervous so Eddie doesn't poke fun again, just waits, runs his hands up and down Steve's naked sides and along the waistband of his sweats. "I want to ...I want to go to college," He finally gets out, setting his jaw, determined. "I want to be a teacher."
Eddie smiles, big and bright because he's so proud that this is his guy, this is his person. This man who loves to help people. Who loves to protect them and make sure they feel loved. It's the perfect career choice. How did Eddie get so lucky?
He knows, though, that Steve doesn't do great with praise or adoration. That it makes him uncomfortable. That he needs to be teased, needs to fade into the background, be unassuming and unobserved. Unlike Eddie who kicks lunches off tables and proclaims himself a freak. So instead of gushing about what a great teacher Steve's gonna make, Eddie teases, "Do I get to call you Mr. Harrington during sex? Will this lead to sexy roleplay?"
Sighing, Steve rests his forehead on Eddie's like he's not totally turned on even though they can both feel just how much of a lie that is, "If, by sexy roleplay, you mean am I gonna make you write lines while I jerk off without you - then yes."
Eddie makes a strangled noise in his throat because, yeah, he's actually super into that, Mr. Harrington.
2K notes · View notes
rogueddie · 9 months
Text
Part one
Steve has so many questions, especially once they get in Eddies van. Everything is different- from the shops to the people. Even the trees look different. He wants to know why.
"We already told you," Dustin sighs. "Time has passed, fashion has changed, whatever."
"But why?" He leans forward, jabbing his finger at one of the shops. "Why did they change the colors?"
"I don't know!"
Dustin doesn't yell, not like his father would. He doesn't do anything other than groan too, encouraging Steve to keep asking questions. He even dares to stick his tongue out when he finally starts complaining, asking Steve to shut up.
By the time they pull up outside a small, wooden cabin, Dustin looks ready to strangle him.
It's kind of funny.
"Alright," Eddie finally speaks up. "Let's go."
He quickly jumps out, jogging around to catch Steve as he steps out, throwing him over his shoulder. He laughs when Steve yells, trying to kick him.
"Don't be a brat, Harrington!" He cackles.
"This is why you aren't cool like Robin!" He yells back, twisting around so he can tug at his hair. "You're a meanie."
"Ow, dude, not the hair!"
Someone clears their throat, making Eddie stop walking. Steve tries to wriggle around, trying to see who it is, but Eddies jacket blocks his view no matter what.
Someone snaps their fingers, after a moment, and Eddie gently lowers him back onto his feet.
The man standing in front of the cabin door looks stunned, when Steve turns around. He blinks at the group for a second, before silently pointing to Steve.
"We don't know," Robin answers. "He's been like this for a while."
"Let me guess; parents aren't home. Again."
"They're busy!" Steve defends.
The man snorts, shaking his head. "That's what you always say, kid." He steps aside, nodding towards the cabin. "Come on, she knew you were coming."
Before Steve can step inside, following the group, the man stops him with a hand on his shoulder.
"Kid," the man clears his throat as he crouches down. His hand is gentle on his shoulder. "You doing ok?"
"I'm fine."
"Steve. This is probably very confusing and scary, I know, but you need to trust us. We want to help you."
Steve scuffs his feet on the floor, grumbling, "yeah, I know."
"So if you're not ok, you can tell us."
"Yeah, I know."
The man stares at him for a moment, before nodding. "If that changes, let us know, ok?"
"Ok."
"Good. Come on."
The inside of the cabin is cozy. Cluttered. Lived in.
"Hello Steve!" A young woman greets. Her hair is shorter than his, Steve notes. And she has a nice smile.
"Hello."
"I am Jane, but you can call me El." She offers her hand.
He shakes it automatically, a little surprised when she doesn't let go. "El?"
"That is what my friends call me." She gestures towards the two pillows set out on the floor, in front of the TV. "I am going to find out what has happened to you. It won't hurt."
"Uh, right. What- uh..." He looks to Robin, who nods encouragingly. "What do I do?"
"Sit with me."
She gently tugs him over, sitting on one of the pillows. She smiles at him when he hesitates, waiting, patient.
He keeps quiet, looking to the others when she pulls out a blindfold.
"It helps her think," the man explains.
Steve nods, even though he doesn't understand what that means.
For a moment, nothing happens. They sit there, almost silent- the static from the TV starts to grate his ears, especially with how close they're sat. But the others look tense, impatient, so Steve tries to stay where he is. He tries to behave.
Until he spots blood.
"She's bleeding!" He points out.
He goes to jump to his feet, but a hand quickly lands on his shoulder, pushing him back down.
It's Robin.
"It's ok, she's ok, it's just a nosebleed," she says. "It's harmless, really. She knows what she's doing."
Robin stays next to him. She even lets him hold her hand when he reaches out for her.
It's not long, after that, until El lifts the blindfold off. She looks confused.
"Well?" Dustin snaps. "What is it? Is he ok? Did someone do-"
"Hey," Eddie gently interrupts, leaning over to bump their shoulders together.
"He is ok," El says, once Dustin relaxes a little. "But I... don't know how this happened."
"How do we change him back?" Eddie asks.
"I can't, I'm sorry. But it is taking too much power to sustain itself."
"Wait, wait, wait," Robin rubs at her forehead. "So, you can't change him back but, what, eventually he will on his own?"
"Yes."
"How long will that take?" Dustin asks.
"I am not sure. Maybe a week? Two?"
"And until then he's just stuck like this?"
"I am sorry, Steve," El says, turning to him. "When it is weaker, I might be able to help?"
"That's ok," Steve quickly reassures her. "I will be ok. I know how to take care of myself."
"What?" El tilts her head, confused.
"Kid, you're staying here," the man says.
"No, Hopper," Robin cuts in, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. "I'm gonna take care of him. He's, like, my soulmate! And he likes me!"
"Woah, hold on," Dustin says. "That's not fair! He's my family!"
They continue to argue for an hour. It's mostly playful, but Steve kind of likes it. He's never had anyone fight over him before.
"He is staying here," Eddie finally speaks up, when it looks like the man- Hopper- is about to explode. "Neither of you two have thought of a single excuse for your parents. And you can't leave him in that big house on his own. He's safer here."
"Oh, fuck," Robin suddenly jerks upright. "What the hell do I tell Keith?"
Part Three
tag list for those who asked; @songbird-garden @str4wb3rry-guy @badcaseofcasey @lioniheart @irethsune @starry-eyedlune @newtstabber @messrs-weasley @vesme @penny00dreadful
1K notes · View notes
atimeofyourlife · 5 months
Text
A family Thanksgiving
This was supposed to be up yesterday, but it took on a mind of its own and instead of the few hundred words it was supposed to be, its nearly 3k. Happy belated Thanksgiving to anyone who celebrates! rated: t | wc: 2847 | cw: period typical homophobia, Steve's asshole parents
The offers from everyone to have him over for Thanksgiving had been great, any other year he would have loved such a choice, but for the first time in a long time, he was spending the day with family.
"But you hate your family." Dustin pointed out when Steve had told everyone about his holiday plans.
"No, I hate my parents. It's my grandma that asked me to go, and I want to see her and my cousins that I haven't seen in like five years. I'm driving myself to Chicago, so I won't be stuck in a car with my parents for hours on end." Steve explained.
"But you're working a late the day before, and I'm not going to cover you so you can drive up early" Robin replied.
"I'm planning on leaving by six on Thanksgiving morning. It's less than four hours to drive, so I'll be there before ten, well nine because of the timezone change. I took the late shift the day before so I had an excuse to drive myself, and my parents wouldn't have any reason to come by Hawkins before. And I drive home either the Friday or the Saturday, ready for our Sunday shift."
Come Thanksgiving day, Steve was somewhat regretting his decision. It had been nearly midnight before he'd gotten home, after a number of people came in just before closing insistent on needing a selection of movies ready for the next day. Then hadn't been happy when the movies they wanted weren't in stock, so they left the place a total mess, causing Steve to stay late to tidy up ready for the opener the next day. Then having to get up around five, so he could get ready and be on track to leave as planned. In an attempt to wake up, he was mostly surviving on a large cup of incredibly strong coffee. He was just counting down the minutes until he could get there.
When he walked in the door, he was immediately wrapped up in a hug from his grandma. "Stevie, it's so good to see you."
"It's great to see you too, Grandma." He returned the hug, melting into it a little. Exactly what he needed after the year it had been.
"Let me take a look at you." She stepped back slightly, giving him a once over. Her hand came up to trace the scar still on his neck from where he had been strangled by the bats and vines. "What happened here?"
"I. It's nothing. It looks a lot worse than it is." Steve replied, trying to get out of the awkwardness of the conversation.
"Oh, if you're sure. If you want to help with dinner, you can join us in the kitchen. But if you just want to rest, anyone who's watching football is in the living room, and the Macy's parade is on in the den."
"It's been a long drive, and I had a late finish last night, so I think I'm going to take a bit of a break. I might come out and help a bit later." He offered.
"Oh, honey. If you don't feel up to it, you don't need to help at all. Take it easy, and we'll call you once everything is ready." She kissed Steve on the cheek, before going back to the kitchen.
Steve made his way through the house, glancing into the living room as he passed. He could see his dad in one of the recliners, and decided against joining them. Wanting to delay the inevitable "you're a disappointment" lecture. He knew his mom would likely be in the kitchen, not actually helping, just drinking wine and gossiping. He moved on to the den, where most of his cousins were. He hovered in the doorway for a second, unsure what to say. So much had changed since the last time he had seen any of them.
"Wait, Stevie?" One of them, Lizzie, said as she looked up to see him.
"Uh, hey?" Steve replied, a little unsure, before he was being swamped in a group hug.
"Jesus Christ, when did this happen? Last time I saw you, you were like a little kid. Now you're a whole grown adult." Another, Mark, said.
After a long catch up, bringing Steve up to date on everyone else's lives, and him giving an abridged highlights of his last few years, they then got into more serious topics.
"Was everything okay after the earthquakes? I tried calling a few times, but I don't know if I had the wrong number because it never went through." Alice, the oldest of his cousins, asked.
"The phones were down across the whole town for a while after, then it was patchy for weeks after that. It was hard to get five or ten minutes without it dropping out. It took me like two weeks before I was able to get hold of mom and dad to let them know that the house was still standing, and that I was still alive." Steve explained.
"Wait, they weren't in Hawkins for the earthquakes?" Harry cut in.
"No, they've not been in Hawkins since February? Like over a month before it happened."
"Oh. They were telling us last night about how awful and hard it had been during the earthquakes, and how they were scared for their lives." Alice replied.
"That's such bullshit. They weren't in the country when it happened, they were in London. They didn't even know that it was Hawkins that was affected until I called them, because all they'd seen on the news was a freak earthquake hitting the Midwest. It hadn't even specified the state. And then they didn't care how I was, if I was hurt or anything, all they were interested in was if there was damage to the house, and how the earthquake could affect the resale value."
"Okay, I call dibs about bringing that up over dinner. I just want to see what shade of purple Uncle Dick can turn." Becca, the closest cousin to Steve in age, piped up. "But were you hurt?"
"Uh, minor injuries. Nothing serious." Steve lied, not wanting to worry anyone. "I was able to start volunteering within a couple of days. You know, helping out at the relief center, helping search for missing people. And when everything calmed down I was helping rebuild and stuff. Just trying to do my bit. But I'm fine now."
"That's good. But thinking of Uncle Dick turning purple, who gets to bring up Fuck Reagan?" Mark asked.
"Stevie's been through the most, I think he should get the chance." Alice replied.
"Uh, I think that would go down about as well as if I told him that my best friend is a dyke and I've spent most of my free time in the last six months sucking off the local drug dealer, who was accused of being a cult leader and murdering three people." Steve said quickly, unsure if he wanted anyone else to pick up what he'd said.
"Was that for drugs, or for fun, or what? Like a hook up?" Harry asked.
"He's my boyfriend. I mean, it helps that I get free weed out of him, but I'd do it anyway." Steve admitted.
"That is something you missed out of your round up. But I love that all of us are some variation of queer."
Dinner was...interesting, to say the least. After saying Grace, they went round the table to say what they were thankful for that year. Steve had to bite his lip to keep himself from laughing as his parents waxed on and on about how they were thankful for their lives and being able to escape the earthquake unscathed. He couldn't keep from laughing when Becca spoke up against them.
"Really? Because Alice asked Steve how he found it after the earthquakes, and he said that he couldn't reach you for two weeks after it happened because the phones were down and you were in London. And you didn't even know that it had hit Hawkins until he called you."
"Steven, why are you telling lies about us?" His mother demanded.
"I wasn't? You weren't in Hawkins when the earthquake hit. You've not been there since February. When I was finally able to call you, you only cared about how the house was, not if I was hurt. And you were pissed that I hadn't called you sooner, despite the fact the phone lines were down for the whole town. I could have died or been injured in hospital, and you wouldn't have known."
"How dare-" His father started, only to be cut off by Steve's grandmother.
"Settle down. There's no need for arguing. I am inclined to believe Steve, because I do remember you telling me that you were going to be spending a few months in Europe at the start of this year."
Both of Steve's parents were visibly unhappy, but they didn't push it any further, allowing the rest of the family to talk about what they were thankful for.
Many small conversations broke out over the table, Steve loving the feeling of being surrounded by family for the first time in a long time. He got pulled into talking to different people, but he did his best to avoid his parents' eye. Not wanting to get trapped by them telling him all the ways he had bothered them since he'd last seen them. But he knew they were up to something, when his father got up before dessert was served.
"Before we have anything else, we do have a big announcement about the future of our family." He said, using the voice he always used when talking to the most important clients.
"You've sucked enough political dick to get what ever tax exemption you were after?" Lizzie asked, before anyone could take it too seriously.
Steve's dad just spluttered in anger as a call of "Elizabeth." Came from at least four different people around the table.
"Ignoring that horrible interruption. What I was going to tell everyone is about Steven's imminent engagement. He is going to be proposing to Melissa Downey, the daughter of my business partner, at Christmas, they've been seeing each other for nearly eighteen months now, and it is going to mean big things for our family."
Steve couldn't respond, processing what had just been said, as everyone started speaking, some offering congratulations, others in confusion.
"That's news to me." Steve said loudly, to get over everyone's voices, once he could form the words. "I'm not planning on proposing to anyone."
"Well, Arthur and I have been discussing it, and it is the only thing that makes sense now, the two of you have been together for long enough, the logical next step is engagement."
"I'm not dating Melissa. We went on one date over a year ago, just after I graduated. It was awful, all she was interested in was if I made enough money to bankroll her spending addiction. I made up a fake emergency to get out of it, and I would rather stick forks in my eyes than suffer through that again." Steve got to his feet, bracing his hands on the table. Knowing he'd been right not to be optimistic that the holiday could pass without incident.
"You will if you know what's good for you. If you don't, it could destroy our business. You wouldn't want to be the reason we go broke, would you? You could end up homeless. Where would you live?"
"First, I have plenty of friends who would be happy to take me in if I had nowhere else to go. It's something we talked about after the earthquake, because some people I know did have damage caused to their homes and I let them stay with me until they could move back in. Second, I don't really care about whether or not you go broke. You don't provide any money to me. You haven't since I started working at Scoops. I pay for all my food, gas, clothes. If you go broke, my financial position won't change at all. And third, I can't propose to her. I'm in a relationship, and we're both very happy."
"Is it that Buckley girl? Or did you somehow manage to convince that Wheeler girl that you're actually worth something? Because I can tell you now, you are going to break up with whatever little slut-"
"His name is Eddie." Steve shouted before he could think it through, and a silence fell across the room. "That's right. Your son is one of those awful queers that you keep campaigning against, to keep them illegal and get them locked up. And you know what? He's easily the best sex I've ever had. Especially when we get high first."
"Why you-" His father roared, his face turning a dark red in anger. "How dare you do this to us? After everything we have done for you. You'd better hope that those friends of yours would be willing to take you in, because you are not living under my roof any longer. You will have until the end of the weekend to collect your belongings, anything left will be burned."
"Except, it isn't your roof, is it Richard? If I remember correctly, I was the one who paid the mortgage. My name is the one on the deed to the property in Hawkins. I just allowed you to live there, rent-free might I add, because it made sense for you to live somewhere close to Indianapolis when your business was taking off. I had been planning to sell up. So I think maybe you should be the one to collect your belongings from that house, because I'm not sure if I want you living under my roof any longer. It sounds life you're almost never there, anyway." Steve's grandma replied.
"But, mother-" His father started.
"But nothing, Richard. I don't know where you learnt your hateful attitude, because I know I did not raise you to be the sort of man that would kick your own son out over something as minor as who he loves. I really thought you were a better man than that."
"It's disgusting." Steve's mother added. "So unnatural, and that disease."
"What is disgusting is your bigotry. I think I want you both out from under my roof, now. So, if you would both kindly leave. And I expect you to move your belongings from the house in Hawkins, as that is now Steve's house, not yours. And you better not touch anything that isn't yours, or cause any damage, because I will take legal advice." Steve's grandmother stood up, anger radiating from her tiny five foot frame. "And, unless you change and apologize for your outdated beliefs, you can forget any inheritance. I will not have any of my money going to support hatred."
"Mother,"
"Leave, Richard. Now. I'm not afraid to get the police involved here."
Steve's parents looked at him with their faces filled with utter disgust, before they turned and left. His grandmother escorting them off the property.
"Are you okay, Stevie?" His grandmother asked after the end of the meal.
"I. I think so. I think I need to make a couple of phone calls." He replied.
"Use any of the phones, dear. Maybe if you know someone who can keep an eye on the house."
"Yeah. I babysit for the chief of police sometimes, so I might call him. He'll make sure nothing happens."
"Good. And, if you're talking to that boy of yours, tell him that he's got to come up here for Christmas. I want to meet him, and make sure he's good enough for you."
"Grandma." Steve protested.
"I'm just saying." She replied before walking away.
Steve shut himself in one of the bedrooms, for a little privacy from the still crowded house while he made the calls. The call to Hopper was quick, just outlining what was going on, and Hopper agreed to keep a check on the house until Steve was back in Hawkins. Then it was the call to Eddie.
"Baby, I wasn't expecting you to call. How's your Thanksgiving?"
"Interesting. My parents decided to announce that I was going to propose to dad's business partner's daughter. They wouldn't accept that I wasn't interested in her so I accidentally came out."
"Shit, I hope that didn't go too bad?"
"Uh, it could have gone worse? Somehow me coming out got my parents removed from the will and kicked out of the house. Because my grandma wasn't happy with them being assholes about it."
"Oh, badass grandma. I kinda want to meet her now."
"I was hoping you would say something like that. Because she has told me that you have to come here for Christmas. She wants to make sure that you're good enough." Steve couldn't help smiling as he talked, somehow the day had gone so much better than he'd ever hoped.
709 notes · View notes
moonswolfie · 5 months
Text
When YOU kabedon THEM
let's turn the tables a bit why don't we 😈😈 i was in the mood to write something a little more silly hehe
characters featured: Bokuto, Kenma, Ushijima, Tsukishima
Tumblr media Tumblr media
ₓ˚. ୭ ˚ Bokuto Koutaro
He freezes over in shock, literally loses all bodily functions for a second
He looks as if he just got the worst jumpscare of his LIFE
...and then proceeds to go completely red and starts smiling like an idiot
A very lovesick idiot❤
"Hey, aren't I supposed to be the one doing this...?" He sounds oddly quiet
Possibly because his stomach is imploding from butterflies
"Hmm?" You tease him by sliding a finger across his lips, smiling up at him and he makes a weird strangled noise
You don't get it babe, you're murdering him rn
(He totally won't miss all his spikes at practice today because he won't be able to stop thinking about this)
ₓ˚. ୭ ˚ Kozume Kenma
"Ummm..." he is completely lost on what to say or do right now
The thing he probably expected the least to happen today is being pushed against the wall by you
His PSP almost slips out of his hands but he quickly grips it to prevent that disaster from occuring
He doesn't even realise how red he is right now or the weird face he's making
"Ahaha, sorry. You just looked so cute, is all." You smiled, pulling on his cheek
And he is still too shocked to even react or slap your hand away for doing that
Being pushed against a wall in dating games always felt so cliché but...
He has a feeling the loud beating of his heart won't subside anytime soon...
Hopefully no one notices...😏😏
ₓ˚. ୭ ˚ Ushijima Wakatoshi
He is very confused. Why are you pushing him against the wall?
"Are you angry?" He asks, making you... sigh?
"What did I expect... of course you don't get it..." his eyebrows furrowed. What is he missing?
"I want to understand. I want to be a good boyfriend." The serious tone he said that in made you snort slightly
After you explain to him that people usually find being pushed against the wall by their significant other hot...
He simply asks "Do you want me to do that to you?"
(Ignoring the heat that rushed to your face at that thought..)
Do not be fooled by his seeming lack of reaction, he felt a strange feeling in his chest when trapped in between your arms🤭
ₓ˚. ୭ ˚ Tsukishima Kei
"What are you doing?" He hisses behind clenched teeth, eyebrows furrowing
You simply smile, leaning close to his neck, but not kissing it 😈
"S-Stop that..." he feels embarrased at how he's losing his composure because of this
He even stuttered just now... God he hopes he isn't completely red right now (he is)
You let him go, casually walking away while he just kinda... stands there in shock
He will so get you back for this, you cannot get away with flustering him and just walking away like that
852 notes · View notes
milksnake-tea · 8 months
Note
helloo ! congratulations on ur 1k followers - ur writing is absolutely amazing ! may i request for ur event..dan feng + angst prompt 1 + angst dialogue 2 ? (please go easy…)
ty !! ( ´ ▽ ` ).。o♡
❀ ˎˊ- prompts: When they had to choose between you and the city, they chose the city. + "Please, stay. Just… stay." ❀ ˎˊ- 1k followers event ❀ ˎˊ- character: dan feng ❀ ˎˊ- warnings: u get abandoned for approx 10 minutes LMAOAO also maybe ooc... altho can u really be ooc about a character who had like 5 minutes of screentime and it was through villainizing lenses ❀ ˎˊ- a/n: THE WAY I GIGGLED AT THIS ASK... TBH IM NOT TOO SATISIFIED W HOW THIS CAME OUT BUT ITS OKAY I STILL LIKEY
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Dan Feng was a man bound by his duty.
The title of Imbibitor Lunae did not come without mandates - on the contrary, it came with chains and shackles. Trapped with an obligation to his planet, it was a wonder how he even managed to secure a lover, with all the eyes on him.
He can never be selfish in the eyes of public, devoting everything he has to his people, from the scales on his tail to the tips of his horns. Only when he is with you can he be greedy, pressed against your body as he holds you like his most precious treasure.
But even so, you've always known that in the end, you were nothing compared to the Luofu. You've always known, but you always shoved it in the corner of your heart in favor for a sweet embrace with your lover.
So when Dan Feng turns his back on you, you aren't shocked like you expect. Your heart doesn't sting with betrayal, and the tears that trickle down your face are from your body being crushed rather than your heart.
The only thing you can feel is a dull ache in your chest, the light fading from your eyes as you realize that he isn't coming back.
Your vision is blurry as his silhouette fades into the sunset, the glint of his jade spear all the more familiar to you. And still, you reach for him, despite knowing that he won't look back - he never does, in times of crisis.
Ah.
You should really get out of here.
A mocking laugh bubbles in your chest, burning against your raw throat as you laugh hollowly. What a fool you were, and a selfish one too, to really expect him to save you when the entirety of the Luofu was in danger. You were just one of millions in the Alliance, a single drop in the boundless sea.
It hurts.
You click your tongue, letting out a frustrated sigh as you pull yourself up from the debris. Your legs scrape against the rubble as you drag them out, one after the other. Closing your eyes, you lean against a slab of concrete, and wait.
You don't have to wait long.
The sound of flowing water and silk sleeves alerts you of the return of your lover. Your fingers twitch, but you're too exhausted to open your eyes. You hear Dan Feng let out a strangled gasp before the familiar cloth of his embrace pulls you into him.
The terrified whimper of your name strikes deep into your heart as Dan Feng's cloudhymm magic swirls around your wounds.
"No," he grits out. You can imagine his expression right now, eyebrows furrowed and tears glistening in his cerulean eyes - tears that will never break and flow. "Great Long, please, not them too..."
"Calm down, Dan Feng," you chuckle wearily, managing to open your eyes just a bit. The image of your lover is still blurry, but you can make out the teal of his horns, glowing with power as he strives to save you. "From the way you're talking, I might as well be on my death bed."
Relief washes over Dan Feng as you speak, his hand cradling your face as he meets your gaze.
"You almost were," he whispers. "If I hadn't left you, you wouldn't-"
"I'm stopping you right there," you quiet him, pressing a finger to his lips. "You had a battle to win. If you'd abandoned the Luofu for me, neither of us would be able to live with it."
But Dan Feng isn't a fool. He sees the hurt in your eyes, and he saw the way you reached out to him back then. It had killed him, having to leave you like that.
"I'm sorry for leaving you," he says. A smile slips onto your face.
You wanted to console him, and say it was okay - that everything was fine. But you couldn't bring yourself to lie like that. Instead, you opted for leaning your head on his shoulder, nuzzling into him as you once again closed your eyes.
"Just... stay," you murmured, feeling as the shock of the impact left you, leaving only exhaustion. Dan Feng's cloudhymm is soothing against your aching body, lulling you to rest.
Dan Feng nods, standing up as you doze off against his shoulder. You rock slightly as he carries you to shelter, but you couldn't care less. All you cared about was his temporary embrace, even if you would wake up to him gone once again.
After all, the battle still wasn't over. Dan Feng's shackles had yet to be broken. And until they were, he would have to leave you, over and over again.
Tumblr media
reblogs w comments are appreciated !!
541 notes · View notes
darlingofvalyria · 8 months
Text
❝I am not a Valyrian Sex God.❞
Tumblr media
part 03 | pucker up, buttercup
chapter summary:
[ The line of friendship dances in uncertain waters when you and Aemond play the fake dating game a little too well. Helaena reveals much more than meets the eye to Aegon, and vice versa. Oh, and Alys. Hi Alys! ]
[ 5,399 ] [ series masterlist ] | best friend's brother!aemond targaryen x f!reader, ft. cregan stark x f!reader & aemond targaryen x alys rivers,
contains— mostly fluff, a wee bit angsty, a little smutty - profanity, i swear a lot sorry too shhshs - no use of y/n - no gods, no kings, no betas.
a/n— thank you so much for the love this little fic is getting so far!! it truly warms my heart that you people enjoy my twisty, crackpot humour and my version of a modern au for these characters!! as much as i am grateful for george for making these characters and these stories, i have to say what propelled me to write is the beautiful community i found. truly, from the bottom of my heart. ❥ fandom is built on community. i would not have had the courage to start writing fanfiction again if not for ya'll. so thank you so much. for the consumers and the creators. you, us, are the beating heart of fandom. please take care of each other. + comment, reblog & like at will, mwa ♡
Tumblr media
"Please tell me I haven't inhaled so much drugs in my system that I am hallucinating our— and I say this with a lot love, okay you know what? No. Our Nasty Little Bitch of A Grudge Holder we call, lovingly, a brother, is not dating the hottest friend you have? Hel? The hottest friend you told me if I ever came anywhere near, you'd rip me a new asshole? How is Aemond's asshole still intact?? Or does our brother just have a gaping fun-house slide down there? Hello? Hellooo, pay attention to meee. This is so rude, why didn't I call Daeron?"
"Because Daeron knows nothing and I know everything?" Hel snorts, finishing up re-naming Aemond's contact from CURRENT DUMB BRO to NASTY LITTLE BITCH OF A GRUDGE HOLDER, before turning to Aegon on her laptop.
Like she predicted, Aegon is already pouting, leaning back on what Helaena remembers is their grandfather's rum-coloured leather office chair. In his office. In Oldtown.
After a quick stint in Ibiza, it seems Helaena's brother had found himself back in the country, and worse— back in their grandfather's office. Without him in it.
"Grandpa's going to kill you." Helaena snorts. "How'd you even get inside his house?"
"This is not the first time I have been faced with a locked door, baby sister."
"You broke a window didn't you?"
"I really, really had to piss."
She rolls her eyes. Hard. "You are a boy. You can literally just pee anywhere."
Aegon flutters a gasp and a hand over his chest. "Excuse me? I may have a penis, but that does not mean I have to be uncouth. For shame, Helaena. Also disgusting. But that's not why I called." He steeples his fingers as he leans forward, pressing his elbows against the nice mahogany desk. "What the fuck is happening over there? I'll be there by tomorrow and I'd like to know what the fuck is happening before I start—" he wiggles his eyebrows salaciously, " — shaking things up."
A dark look crosses Helaena's usually amiable pretty face that has Aegon leaning back. "If you do anything— and I mean anything — to ruin what I have going on, Mother may help you for I certainly won't. The Stranger will look like an old friend, Egg, don't you fucking dare."
"What the fuck," Aegon exhales, wide-eyed and horrified. "Have you been watching M. Night Shyamalan movies again?"
"No," she lies. "I'm doing this for my OTP."
 "Oh my god, you're the one who roped them together?" Aegon strangles a sigh. "Lae-lae, we've talked about this. No matter how much you think they're cute, Aemond—"
"— Aemond and Alys broke up."
"Then they'll be together again before the weekend's out." Aegon rolls his eyes. "It's Aemond."
"Not like this." Hel shakes her head. "I got her to agree, Egg. And they're like... Gods, the pictures don't do them justice. They're magnetic. They make plans at the apartment, Aemond is there all the time— my OTP is happening."
"You are playing god between two people you care about."
"What else am I supposed to do?! They're obviously so hot for each other, and now that Alys is out of the picture, and she's there, right in front of him, Egg, you should see how it is between them. The energy. It's crackling. They have inside jokes, they're so comfortable with each other, and I will have the most beautiful nephew and niece—"
"—Helaena Targaryen," Aegon admonishes with finality. Hel quiets. Often times, the siblings forget Aegon is quintessentially the oldest sibling. They had never been close to their father's actual firstborn— the age gap is wide and there's just... too much complicated family fissures in between that it feels awkward, even when they're relationship is okay, to interact or consider Rhaenyra anything past a cousin you see every other holiday because you have to, much less now that their father's dead — so Aegon is their big brother.
And though they see it in bits, in flung comet pieces that you see preciously once every few hundred years— the vibe of big brother grasps the edges and reminds the younger siblings.
Sure, he's a dick. Sure, he's a whore. Sure, he's their mother's least and most favourite headache— but Aegon is their big brother.
"You cannot play puppeteer like this. This can blow up in their faces. And they care for each other. Their friends. If this blows up in their faces, it is going to hurt."
"I know that," Helaena says quietly, pout pinched but face mostly cleared. "You don't think I don't know?"
"I think you've already outweighed your chances and your choosing a possibility."
Helaena looks truly scolded at that point, and it juts a guilt down Aegon's stomach. But Aegon likes you. Maybe not like in the way that his brother likes you— in that intense, possessive way he gets with people and things he care about because there are so few of them — but he likes you. And he loves Aemond on a bad day, and likes him on a good one.
And Aegon knows, as a superior power about crashing and burning, that this is going to hurt both of you in ways that he truly doesn't think Helaena understands.
Because he isn't blind (as his brother) (bad joke?) (probably) to what he sees in Aemond's gaze when it looks at you. Sure it's possessive, sure it's the same way he looks at most people he keeps close to his heart.
But he was the one who saw how Aemond looked at you before Alys came into the picture. Before it morphed into nothing but platonic; morphed close to how he looks at Helaena. In that soft, I'm So Glad This Person Exists I Would Kill Literally Everyone For Them.
Aegon always thought he looked at you like he wanted to devour you. Etch you into his skin until your shape is in red marks across white plane. He looked at you like I Would Kill Myself If You Asked.
It was the possibility of devotion dipped in insanity. Aemond had so few things, much less people, who so vocally, physically, and emotionally cared for him without addendums.
The only real reason he never did anything before was because you were Helaena's best friend. Helaena loved you. And he couldn't destroy that alongside the fact that you might leave his side.
And then Alys happened and that focal point moved.
Aegon knew his brother. Not as intensely, and maybe that's the reason he could see it. To see clearly past the intensity and recognise its edges. Aegon knew his brother in his marrow.
"When this crashes and burns—"
"If!" Helaena quips stubbornly. "If it crashes and burns. Come home. You'll see, Egg. Aemond just needs to see."
"And what if she doesn't reciprocate, Lae-lae? She's not hard to love, and this is Aemond." Even Helaena knows his feelings, once taken root in whatever form, can blossom.
Helaena smiles softly. "Come home. You'll see. I can see it. I've seen it. The possibility of them, and it's so pretty, Egg."
Tumblr media
It's really not all that pretty, fake dating.
Maybe it could be, but Aemond Targaryen is such an ass.
"This is not like The Devil Wears Prada fashion montage," you grumble, pinching off the big, 60s, yellow sunglasses off your nose to glare pointedly at the man sat on lounge chair. "All the zippers and tugging— this is not as pretty! And I look ridiculous! I don't wear dresses like these, Aemy!"
"You don't look ridiculous, you look like my girlfriend." He makes his emphasis with an inch raised eyebrow and pouty lips twitching not to laugh. "That's the point, is it not?"
You make a drawl huff. It's not just that his words were right— that's what the past hour has been, roaming around all these big named fashion brands where the staff just knows Aemond Targaryen, if not just by him sauntering in with all the swagger of an asshole you'd walk the other side of the street to ignore, then by the flash of his black card (or three, 'cause what the fuck is money to Targaryens holy shit) — but the way he's sitting as he appraises every look he's chosen for you.
He's lax, as could be in his usually perfect posture, with his hips in the middle, and one leg braced down whilst the other is raised to his other thigh. A confident man's sitting position, with an arm over the length of the sofa, balancing a champagne a trying-to-suppress-her-giddiness staff gave him.
At your disapproved glare— down on your nose at him because you're standing over him, lording over him, as he's sitting down — and he's smirking up at you. As if the power dynamics don't shift by whoever is looming over the other.
Aemond doesn't need to stand to make you feel all fluttery with a smirk and a strong gaze against your body. His eyes gaze from the bottom of your heeled toes, slow, slow, slow, until it reached the top of your head.
Surely you've only imagined his gaze lingering on certain parts of you that now felt hot and tingly.
Surely.
"Plus," he continues with a hum. A sip of champagne. "Isn't this your idea?"
"Yes, but—"
"Didn't you tell me that I should prepare the kind of outfits that Aemond Targaryen's girlfriend would wear—"
 "Yes, but I—"
He leans forward, taking pleasure in arguing with you, as he settles his elbows on his knees, pressing both of his feet flat on the tile. He's looking up, still, but his eyes are intense and the corner of his mouth is twitching from a grin he's trying to fight.
"And even when I told you that didn't matter, that whatever you wore would be fine, you insisted?"
"Because I thought it'd be fun!" you growl and he falls in faint, amused laughter. His eye is sparkling and there's a joy to him that makes you giddy. You truly have missed Aemond as you know him. "Because I wanted a fun dress-up montage, but nothing about this is fun! Why are you choosing so many goddamned zippers, and they're all so fucking tight?"
You plop beside him, stealing his champagne. Staff look away, trying not to ogle too much between you two. As you take sips of his drink, his hand, still over the sofa's arm, begin drawing idle circles on your exposed shoulders. It warms you and calms you down, melting further in the seat beside him.
"I liked the dresses," he finally murmurs. "The ones before this. The flowy fabric ones."
"Those are summer dresses," you say though don't know why.
"Hm," he hums. "You look pretty in them."
You look up at him and he's looking at you, a small smile on his face. The proximity is too near to be proper but not near enough if you're fake dating. You study his silver lashes and the scarred flesh.
"Thanks."
"We'll get them. Is that alright with you?"
You snort softly. "You're paying, Aemy. You can do whatever you want. Can't believe this is how your dates with Alys usually went."
Hatching plans meant unloading information about his former relationship with her. Going through their relationship so you could understand it better, better proportioned the good and the bad, and secretly, make him see the red flags that should jump out in clear, plastic red.
"Not at first." He's looking away now, but his finger is still drawing circles. There's a wistful tone to his voice, like seeing through a dream and a memory. "But when it got... bad, it seemed like the only time we weren't fighting was when we were in public. Almost subconsciously, whenever things got tensed, I'd offer to take us out. Do anything outside of our bubble. Money isn't an issue, and before Alys said she felt like a... cheap whore than a girlfriend, buying things for her, spending time looking through things to wear, to match almost, was safe."
"Gift Giving," you mutter with a nod. He turns.
"What was that?"
"A love language." He cocks his head. You sigh. "I mean it's stupid and not really theoretically accurate, but for fun, there's five types of love languages. People do this test thing and sort of box up the kind of love language you want to receive and what you give— but truly, in my opinion, a true kind of love demands all five for it to work."
He hums, intrigued. "And what are the five?"
"Words of Affirmation, Quality Time, Physical Touch, Acts of Service, Gift Giving. But, you know, all of those should be given by a partner, in increments they can do for you. There shouldn't be a boxed fixture of what your relationship could be."
You shrug, standing up and stretching. You don't see him looking at you in the way that he has been for the past few days, and he doesn't know the tingles and feelings you keep between a smile and a sigh.
"Love looks different for everyone but it should have the same concept."
"And what concept is that?"
You turn to him, smiling. "That if you truly love someone, you can try anything. Love doesn't demand things that you do for the simple reason that you love the person enough."
"Love can be complicated," he says, and he's not arguing, not really. He isn't begging for you to understand. He is simply saying.
"Love can," you agree. "As most things are complicated. But it doesn't have to hurt."
It's a boundary line, the way he blinks, remembering why you're here together, why he gets to touch you in intimate ways, why he gets to pay for clothes, why you spend this time with him. A jolt. A shock.
You don't press and he doesn't retreat. The line exists not just to remind, but to stabilise any projections. Any dangerous tones.
You simply smile, nodding at the time. "Dinner date, babycakes. We can't be late for reservations."
"We can be late for a few minutes," he says, remembering echoes of how Alys sometimes got late. It isn't really her fault; there are days when she's too busy at the law firm, too busy with a meeting or two, or still finishing up her makeup because she doesn't like going to dinner in her work clothes.
"Sure, but we're here together and I know how much you hate being late." You snort.
"I don't hate it."
"Sure, but you got that eye twitch you do when you're annoyed," you tease, tapping your own eye before you wink at him and skip away.
Tumblr media
For the past few days since the bar incident, by your suggestion, you and Aemond had pour out the intricacies of how Aemond and Alys' relationship worked whilst hiding your true intention of making him see its faults and corners, and at the same time, continue on with the charade of dating him.
It's been a packed week or so, going to your shifts at the bar, meeting with Cregan once and a while (boy had been busy, and he found the entire thing with Aemond incredibly hilarious).
You answered no question mark in regards on who the hand was, only sent a winky face or a kiss blowing emoji. You continue to post minute representations of your no-longer-single status in brief intervals, making sure that you never name him. You never publicly give him a recognisable body.
But for those that knew, knew.
It really wasn't that hard. There were only so much pale, toned hands, so much body builds you can hide with your hand covering his general face that you can hide without people making smart guesses. There wasn't a lot of pale, toned people around you after all.
But in your refusal to name him, the question continues, and so does Alys silent observation of every post. The only story she had liked had been the very first one.
You often wonder what she thinks, before your mind is devoured once again with everything else.
To be fair, as often as you had both been seeing each other lately— and it has been the most often you have been seeing of him — there were still things outside of Aemond and Helaena plans. And Aemond still had UNI to focus on.
"You know, I often forget you're still in university," you say now, comfortably warm in Aemond's car. All fresh leather seat and crisp new car smell despite knowing that Aemond's had this unit now for at least a year. He maybe rich, but he knew what he liked and took care of them.
He shoots you a quizzical look before looking back at the road. The city is bathed in a gorgeous stream of oranges and pinks, tie-dying glass buildings and bustle of city roads. When you look at him, you smile softly at how pretty the light hits him.
"Why is that? Do I look that young?"
"Your vibe is so old man on a nine to three, cigar breaks by four, and whiskey sours by seven pm."
He makes a disgruntled sound at the back of his throat. You laugh. "I would like to think it's my altruistic classicism. A timeless endeavour."
"Sure, old man," you tease then sigh. "Reality is, I'm so much older than you. I'm hanging out with a child. On my free day. Is this what it means to reach low status?"
"I am not a child." His reply is sharp, cutting, almost offended.
"You're in college."
"And of legal age? You're only four years older."
"Oh, right."
"What?"
You smirk at his dark look. "You like 'em way older."
His face, much like his gaze, heats up. You're imaging it when the ride turns red, the car slows to a stop, and he is looking at your lips. Surely it was, because you got transfixed with the way his tongue darts out to wet his lips. A slow, tantalising movement.
It feels like an eternity stretched within three seconds. The light turns green and both of you turn away.
Well, there's been that. A few times. But it doesn't mean anything. Aemond is in that transition of trying to rid himself of bad habits, of being freshly single once again, and you know he and Alys get in on frequently. This had been a conversation a few days back, on a couch, smell of grease and pizza around the room while Murder She Wrote played in the background.
"Wait, wait, wait." You sat up, folding your legs underneath your butt, and giving Aemond your full attention with a little 'o' in your mouth.
"Wait!" Helaena calls playfully from her sway to the bathroom. "Imma pee!"
"Take care, my beloved!" you call back, before turning to Aemond with a big, Cheshire grin.
"Can we not dwell on it?" He's flustered but is trying not to show it, looking back to the TV as if he understood why there's a body on the plane.
But wine has been had, spilled and shared, and it's enough for you to grab that fluster and the topic, and smirked.
"No, no, we will talk about it. We shall! We must! Do you mean to tell me that by the end of it, most of the time, you two were just boning? Is Aemy, one of my favourite people in the world, a Valyrian Sex God?? Oh my god??"
"I am not a Valyrian Sex God."
"Okay, girly pop, please." You raised a hand in a 'talk to the hand' motion and he was smiling at you, entranced and frustrated. "Women talk, Aemy!"
There was a flush and Helaena came back. Wine did things to Helaena, and she was stumbling and giggling as she flopped behind you, turning around and encasing you in a koala hug.
"Women talk, baby bro." Helaena nodded sagely. "Even I try not to listen, they talk, alas."
"And Alys has said those hips—"  You pointed a j'accuse finger at his hips, then his mouth. "—and that tongue has done things that can make the Maiden blush."
Helaena groaned behind you're back, a slew of 'ew's escaping her mouth. And you were still being playful, teasing, but Aemond was looking at you, though scarlet, with a deepened expression.
And at that moment, both of you were thinking the same thing.
His chin brushing your thighs, your sighs like music to his ears, and his tongue making you scream.
Warmth pooled, twin expressions share a gaze. Hunger, desire, shame.
The connection was destroyed when Helaena abruptly jolted and fell down the carpet. Because she was holding onto you, you got pulled with her.
"Are you okay??" Aemond asked.
Hel gasped. "I thought I saw Bobby. I think I squished Bobby."
You shook your head. "You didn't. Bobby is spry. Bobby knows to move away."
Aemond's confused face peered down at both of you. "Who's Bobby?"
"The local spider that lives here."
"Of course." And he smiled.
You smiled back.
Helaena giggled beside you but when you ask her, she only shook her head.
And the silence that lulls in the car is like both of you reaching the very same memory and having to sit through the stifle of that drunken interaction about his sex life. He coughs, you let out a breathy giggle.
"I should admit something," he says, parking the car in front of the restaurant. Dusk is settling, sunset in bright red and orange turning to a cool blue and pretty lavender— and when you turn to him after getting out of the car, coddling your jacket close to your body, he looks nervy. Apologetic, almost.
"What? What'd you do?"
He bites his bottom lip. "I know something about this restaurant."
"I would assume. You chose it." Your eyes narrow, giving the black-out floor to ceiling windows a look. The Painted Table is lit up in a scrawled font on top of it.
You step inside, not bothering to turn to his call of your name, and is submerged by the restaurant's vibe. It's a darkened place with meaningful lighting but a casual air, a bar on the side, and an upbeat jazzy music dancing in the air — it looks good. The place smelled delicious.
Nothing about it sparked familiarity to you, but the anticipation from that look of guilt on his face brought you to a high-strung, so when he calls your name again, just behind you, you turn.
"Is this where you had your first date with Alys?"
He shakes his head. "No. No, but—"
"Aemond?"
The voice is familiar, and you don't stop enough to think before you're turning to the low, clear voice that's just a hint of husky, and Alys' green eyes go wide at your appearance.
She's dressed nice, dressed to go out in a black dress dipping low and fabric tangled around her body to show off her curves. Her inky hair was swept to one side and her mouth was bloodred.
Alys Rivers, owner of Aemond's firsts. The woman he seemingly can't let go off.
You smile. It feels fake. "Oh. Hi Alys."
Her shock staves off into a genuine smile that makes you guilty. "Hi, my love. I see you two are together. Always attached at the hip. Dinner?"
Before you nod— or maybe strangle Aemond — he comes forward, taking your hand in the process and lacing it. He's looking at her as if he's setting a challenge when Alys' eyes fall on your intertwined hands.
"Yes," he says. "We are."
"Well... that's good. This place is great. I—" Someone calls her name, she turns back. You shoot Aemond a withering glare you hope conveys how much you're going to beat his ass after this. She turns back, smiling still. There's a pinch between her eyes but it's gone by the third blink. "Well, I have to go. I'll see you both soon, okay?" She turns to you, stepping forward, not minding the Targaryen beside you. "Especially you. We haven't hung out in a while."
"That's true, I've missed you, you crazy witch." And she laughs and you smile, because you genuinely consider Alys to be one of your friends. Not maybe as deeply as Helaena's, or as close, but Alys was an amazing person and you enjoy her company.
Plus, right now the one you're angry about it solely the man holding your hand.
Alys turns to Aemond, and he stiffens. Between them is a complicated look. So many things unsaid, before her smirk softens. "It's nice to see you too, Aemond."
And she turns away, walking back to her table, to her date, when you tug him with you to the bar. As you order a dry martini, he speaks. Calm and soft.
"You're mad at me."
"You knew she was going to be here." You turn to him, arching an eyebrow, hating the way your chest pangs. "You stalked her and brought us here because you wanted to use me."
He shifts, face crumples at the word 'use' and calls your name in a plead. "It's not like that."
You snort, taking a sip of your drink when it arrives. "Don't lie."
"Okay. Yes, I did. I... I made an impulsive decision because I wanted to see how she could go on a date as if we were nothing." Bitterness cripples his words, the smirk on his lips is ironic and darkened in hurt. Your heart hurts for him, but you can't give him a pass just like that. He hurt you too.
"You could've told me."
He raises an eyebrow. "You would be okay with this?"
Your own smile is ironic and darkened by hurt. "You're already using me, Aemy. That was the deal I agreed, for Hel. It would at least lick the wound to have been in the know, and not, you know, got shot in the face with it."
At the first part of your tirade, he looked like he wanted to argue with the using part, but the realisation weighs him because it is true. To him, he is using you. And it's a cheap shot on your part because you were also doing this for him, out of your own free will.
You sigh when he turns away, guilt dipping low.
"You're such a dumbass."
He hums in agreement.
You're aware of a gaze from the tables, somewhere in the ocean of jazz music and chatter, Alys is looking, and you kinda wanna make this good for him. You were already here after all.
Your hand reaches his jaw, sliding across his neck until you reach his nape and fingers tangle with the baby hairs there. His hair had been wrapped into a bun. Sleek and fluffy.
He turns to you, to your touch, in shock. "What are you—"
"Try not to look so surprised," you whisper, stepping close to him until your noses are bumping. "We're supposed to be dating."
And then you slant your mouth against his.
Tumblr media
TAGGED: @fan-goddess @snh96 @valeskafics @opheliaas-stuff @tempo-rary-fix @fantasticpeaceharmony @diannnnsss @iamavailablesstuff @spinachtz @at-a-rax-ia @bespinnn @tsujifreya @moonlightfoxx @kemillyfreitas @joyouart @bananzaa @honey-on-mars @alexa4040 @cinnamonbambii @wintrr13 @wxb-slingrr @astroswift @queenofshinigamis @helaenaluvr @kaetastic @jxdegodfrey @laniii-on-your-left @watercolorskyy @snowprincesa1 @gemini-mama
545 notes · View notes
hart269 · 7 days
Text
Corridors and Confessions | Oneshot
Pairing : Remus Lupin x Reader Summary : Were you avoiding Remus Lupin, yes. Did you want to? No. Will you gather to courage to solve all this? Maybee Warnings : Idiots in love
Tumblr media
Masterlist
You've been avoiding Remus Lupin. Did you want to, no, Merlin, no, but did you need to, not really that too, but you had to or you will surely combust.  He is one of the greatest people to walk on Earth, and you have one of the greatest crush crush on him, or maybe even more than that, considering how long you've had it.
The reason you were avoiding him was purely embarassing if you may, you were in the library, searching for a charms book, when you saw remus with the rest of the group, and you couldn't help yourself.
He stood there talking, maybe arguing, his sweater stretched as he rubbed the back of his head in frustration, you were practically gawking at the point, when he turned around, both of your eyes simultaneously widened as they locked.
The silent library fell even more quiet as everyone turned to look at you, you felt your cheeks warm up. Your head shot up as Remus called your name,  you gulped, "I, um, I".
Your brain had  practically stopped working, the room felt like a small box with the walls closing in, you couldn't look at Remus anymore, you sharply turned and practically ran out.
Since then you wanted to strangle yourself just releiving the memory, and thus you were avoiding him but it wasn't you only, Remus was sorta avoiding you too, which definitely meant he didn't want to face you either, God he probably knew and didn't want to confront.
You wanted the eartth to swallow you whole.
At the same time, you hated the rift that came between you,you didn't even have your caual talks. Even his friends stared at you weirdly, you knew you needed to atleast talk to Remus, you just needed to corner him when he was alone.
The opportunity presented itself, since both Remus and you were prefects, you were required to patrol the hallways. So, the next date it was due, you were fiddling with your robe when Remus silently joined you. The corridor felt stuffy, covered in a tension so thick, you can make whipped cream out of it.
You internally groaned, and glanced at Remus who looked at anywhere but you, god you must had made him feel really awkward, especially infront of his friends.
You had to do it, "Remus". His had snapped towards you, "Yes". You gulped, "I'm sorry for, uh that day, in the library"
Remus nodded, still avoiding  to look at you, "Yeah, I mean, I guessed you would have probably found out that I'm a werewolf"
You choked on your spit, "You are a werewolf" you whisper-yelled wide eyed. Now, Remus panicked, "Wait, you didn't know"
"No, no, I didn't" you were gaping you.
"Why did you run from the library then?" Remus's frenzied voice echoed.
"Because I was ogling at you and I thought you all caught me, it was embarassing"
Remus was full on panicking, "Oh my God, whhat have I done" he leaned against thte wall, Remus grabbed your hand, "Please, don't tell anyone"
"I won't" you solemnly nodded, ignoring the sommersaults in your stomach, as you held his hands, your head came to a sudden realization, "Is that why you were avoiding me?"
"The day at the library, you were standing near us and we were talking about it and, we thought that you had heard, and that's why run, cause-" he took a big gulp of air, you squeezed his hand "cause it's horrifying to know the person you wander the corridors with is a monster"
 
"No, you're not" you whispered, he shook his head.
You shook his shoulders violently, "You idiot, Merlin, Are you stupid, or am I" you trailed before looking him in the eyes, " No, how can you say that, you are like the best person I've met in hogwarts, you are so kind, you are so smart, you are like the best student and you're so stupidly pretty, in the sense, that I lose my brains whenever I look at you, you run through my mind and I lose all my train of thoughts and Merlin-" you were shushed as Remus's lips were pressed onto yours, which went as quickly as they came.
Remus gaped at you, "Sorry, I should have asked fir-" this time you were the one to shut him up, this time properly kissing him, Merlin it felt like a dreamwhen you two pulled away,
"You like me" Remus said, resting his forehead on yours. 
"I think I made that pretty sure" you giggled, "I should ask you that"
"I do, I have since forever" Remus sighed, you were pretty sure you had died and come back.
Remus smiled, he leaned to kis-"OH FOR FUCK'S SAKE" you two jumped apart as you saw the rest of the marauders standing there.
"We were pretty sure somebody died and here you two are" James exclaimed.
You shook your head, "What are you all doing here?"
"You two were at one location for so long, we thought something must have gone wrong" Peter explained.
Sirius grinned, "But the scene here is-", Remus loudly interrupted him, "Okay that's enough, guys go back, I'll be pack after patrol"
They all turned around there way, "Tell us if you discover a new corridor though" Sirius winked.
Remus groaned in embaressment, his cheeks flushed red, while you giggled leaning to kiss him again.
161 notes · View notes
cold-kitty · 22 days
Text
Remember the Yandere Neuvillette fic? Well you know that one meme that goes like "I have two sides"? That's how I am with Neuvillette. On one hand, I like to think of him as the sweet goober that was in that fic. On the other hand? Well...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Contains: NSFW (not with darling), murder (not darling), Neuvillette is quite literally insane, Neuvillette is slightly rough with darling (not sexually), abuse of power, mentions of kidnapping, stealing darlings things, Neuvillette has masochistic tendencies
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Tumblr media
Yan!Neuvillette who hires you as an assistant. you tidy up a bit, bring him things he needs, just normal things.
Yan!Neuvillette who stares at you, stares. he only works half of the day, the rest of that time is spent staring at you.
Yan!Neuvillette who will invite you to lunch everyday, insisting that he pays even though you want to. oh don't worry, it's not like it's a date. even though it should be...
Yan!Neuvillette who will steal your used napkins, spoons/forks/chopsticks, leftovers, anything that you've touched or put your mouth on.
Yan!Neuvillette who takes those things home with him, swiping the saliva off of them and is immediately tugging down his pants.
Yan!Neuvillette who is definitely physical with you. hugs, patting your head, hooking your arm in his, standing a little too close to you, etc.. but he's very insistent with it, and he doesn't care if you turn down the offer, it only makes him squeeze you harder than usual (which is abnormally hard for someone who's supposed to be platonic with you).
Yan!Neuvillette definitely swipes some of your clothes, gaslighting you that you didn't wear it. gloves? no silly, you didn't wear any.
Yan!Neuvillette who also finds the cologne you use, spraying it on all over his room, especially his pillow.
Yan!Neuvillette is a pillow fucker 100%, his pillow is constantly nestled between his plush thighs as his hips move feverishly against it.
Yan!Neuvillette who talks to his pillow, pretending it's you. begging it, whining with it, holding it as if it were a person. p-please love- ngh... please please please i wanna cum, please- darling please l-let me- hah- cum...
Yan!Neuvillette who has fantasies of you randomly bending him over his desk, ripping his clothes apart and absolutely ravaging him.
Yan!Neuvillette who has a certain ache for pain with you. slap him, kick him, hit him, bite him, strangle him, he'd even let you cut him for Christ's sake. make him bleed and cry, bruise him and make him sore. anything that you do is ecstasy for him, and he would love you to have power over him like that.
Yan!Neuvillette who goes batshit feral when you're affectionate with someone. teeth gritted, body twitching, eyes wide with rage, but he would never ever do anything to hurt you, so he simply slits the persons throat.
Yan!Neuvillette who will quite literally tweak the law just so he can have an advantage, making loopholes so he can legally kidnap you. the government doesn't even need to know, he'll just change it whenever he wants.
Yan!Neuvillette who will stop at absolutely nothing to have you, he'll kidnap you, blackmail you, threaten people you love, anything.
Yan!Neuvillette who - if pushed to this point - will accuse you of a crime and label you guilty, sentencing you to 'behavior correction' with him for the next year.
Yan!Neuvillette who really, really doesn't like the look on your face when he takes you to his home, as much as he likes having power over you, it makes him feel sick. you're crying, begging him to understand that you haven't done anything wrong, that you were framed.
Yan!Neuvillette who won't hurt you unless you try to run away, and even then it's only a few smacks on the back with a wooden paddle. he hates your tears.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
There are only two Yandere Neuvillette's (in my opinion), the sweet baby from the first fic, and whatever rabies infested rat this is.
~🐈‍⬛
300 notes · View notes
luveline · 10 months
Note
hi jade <3 can you pls write an “idiots in love” scenario between fem!reader and peter. something really gushy and fluffy <333
hi baby <3 I'm really sorry I think I may have misunderstood this so they're idiots in love but they aren't together yet !! fem!reader, 1k
Peter's dragging you by the hand through the crowd like one might dangle a carrot on a stick, though you aren't sure what it is he's hoping to attract in the sticky floored Burger King you're dominating. 
"Coming through!" he shouts, shouldering past people in a way that isn't strictly polite. 
You're laughing so hard your waist aches and the tether of your hand is a necessary precaution to stop you collapsing into a baby stroller. The greasy bag of your spoils quivers with a paper crunching as it whacks some poor bystander in the arm, your "Sorry," a swallowed shout in the busyness. 
Finally, you arrive at your destination. Broken crayons and tear away colouring pages splayed messily over a table hidden in the corner of the room, and there, nestled between the chaos, a precious diamond in the rough, lays the true purpose of your visit to such a fine dining establishment on such a hot summer's day. The Burger King crowns lay in their pop put forms, thick printed card stock. 
"They were more impressive when we were kids," you say.
"They're rustic." Peter drops your hand and gathers up way more crowns than you. "Understated. Humble, even." 
"Yeah," you say, giggles emerging once again. 
Peter tucks the crowns into your bag and you leave the way you came through herds of disgruntled New Yorkers and out into the summer heat, dipping into shadows as the glaring yolk of sun dips behind a skyscraper. Peter leads you deep into a cold alleyway and fiddles with the shooter at his wrist. 
"You're sure you won't drop me?" you ask, taking the paper bag of burgers and cradling it against your chest like a child. 
"You think you're so heavy," Peter complains, wrapping an arm around your waist. 
"I am heavy, Pete. A normal guy could pick me up, much less carry me onto a rooftop." 
"I'm not a normal guy." Chest to chest, Peter gives you a shameless smirk. "Hold on tight. I won't drop you, but if you drop even a single French fry, I'll be tempted." 
"Don't even joke about thAT–" your words turn to a breathless hoot as Peter thwicks his wrist upward and the two of you careen through the air. 
"It's alright!" Peter shouts. 
"Woah woah woah!" you shout back, strangling him as you try to climb up his arms and away from the bottomless air below you. Another thwick and you climb higher. A swing that takes the air out of your lungs ends with a jogging stop on a gravel rooftop. "Woah, I'm gonna chuck up." 
Peter rubs between your shoulders. "You always say that." 
"I'm dying." 
"Don't crouch like this, you're begging to be sick." 
Peter helps you up, close and smelling like all things nice. Laundry detergent from a stickler of a laundry sheriff, deodorant and aftershave and the sweet burned sugar smell of his unwise experiments. 
The rooftop is one you've come to before, wide, abandoned, but outfitted with two camping chairs that can be dragged into or out of the sun depending on what half you sit on. You drag your chairs into the sun once your nausea has abated and sit down, Burger King bag in your lap. Peter peels the straps of your tote down enough to grab your unmanufactured crowns, his fingertips summoning an odd shyness from you while they touch you. He's familiar to the point of seamlessness, usually; you and Peter may as well be one person. But now every close encounter, each gentle hand on your skin, is demarcated by a fizzy excitement you can't ignore. 
Peter hooks his chair with an ankle blindly, dragging it under his butt as he sits and pops crowns from their cardstock holdings. He guesses the sizing for your head, and props a golden crown on your head while you retrieve his cheeseburger. It slips down your nose. 
"Woah," Peter murmurs, leaning in to nudge it back up. He looks you right in the eye, close enough to kiss. "Hi there." 
"Hello, good sir," you say, eyeing his own crown. 
"Your majesty," he corrects. 
"Your majesty. Take your burger." 
"Where are my fries?" 
"The crown suits you, I think, considering you're a royal pain. Give me five seconds and I'll give you your fries, jerk." 
Peter's eyes squint gently closed in a slow blink, eyebrows raised. "Jerk. Nice. You're a royal dick." 
"Nice!" You pass him his fries, and the ketchup dip. "We should've got milkshakes." 
"Then you really would throw up." 
"You're probably right," you say, leaning back into the chair, the sun warming your cheeks like a lingering kiss. You tip your head back to eat a handful of soggy fries, salt like an explosion on your tongue. 
"Christ," Peter says, fries in one hand, burger in the other, "they're trying to give us heart disease!" 
"I was thinking the exact same thing," you laugh. 
Peter nods, pleased to be on the same wavelength, and curls your legs together, elbows bumping as you eat with all the laziness of rich people poolside at the country club. The subtle crunch of fries, the crinkling paper bag held under your foot to stop from flying away on the breeze. New York doesn't need anymore litter. 
You give up on your salty fries and Peter doesn't ask, he doesn't need to, polishing them off. His metabolism is enhanced in time with his healing and regenerative abilities, his stomach an endless pit. 
"You should've gotten another burger," you say. 
"You should mind your business." 
"Is it 'cos I was paying?" 
Peter dunks your crown down your face, kisses your cheek, and steals another handful of your fries. "Too slow." 
You laugh and tip your head until the crown falls off. The wind picks it up, and Peter throws his wrist forward without looking, catching it in a web before it can fly off. Burgers, laughter, the flirting sun and an accompanying breeze. Things are perfect. 
You look at Peter as he tries to pull his web from the crown without ruining it. He gives up, grabbing a new one from your tote. 
Well, things are almost perfect.
1K notes · View notes
mitsies · 1 year
Text
FUMBLED! ; okkotsu yuuta > yuuta's never been good with words. it's no surprise that he's even worse with confessions.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
okkotsu yuuta is a pacifict at heart. sure, he's committed his fair share of violent crimes, but as was the life of a jujutsu sorcerer. in practice, he was cruel. in actuality, he'd never hurt a fly.
yuuta took extra long on rainy day walks to avoid stepping on worms. he made sure to never dog-ear pages on his books, and he always set out extra meals in case his friends didn't feel like making their own dinners. okkotsu yuuta was kind as he was gentle- a peaceful spirit in totality.
things might change today, though, because he is genuinely considering strangling his friends.
well, not actually- he thinks he'd rather run away and cry than strangle anyone. running away and crying would be a lot less awkward than murder. and god knows that he couldn't handle even more tension. the air was thick with it now- a heavy sort of smoke, so present that he could taste it in the sky and it suffocated the people in its vicinity.
no one spoke for a few beats before panda laughed awkwardly: "well, i think that's our cue to leave!"
yuuta watches helplessly as panda grabs maki and toge by their collars before hauling them away, effectively leaving you and yuuta alone in the courtyard of tokyo jujutsu high.
the words from the previous conversation still hung in the air like a cloud. he could practically read them in the wind: maki's jovial teasing, toge's interesting additions, your pretty, pretty laugh- and panda dropping a bomb.
("what, do you have plans this weekend?" maki had interrogated yuuta when he declined the group's request to grab dinner in town on the upcoming weekend. he was about to reply when panda cut him off- "he's probably waiting to ask you-know-who out."
yuuta remembers freezing and hearing maki laugh, not noticing how you approached with toge by your side. "you need to do it already."
yuuta is again cut off by panda's exclamation. "i know, right! y/n's so cool, and you like them so much it's sad. plus, they won't stay single forever-"
"what did you just say?" your voice took everyone by surprise. the quiet following was hollow and still. that was what led up to this- the awkward silence. the stand-off. what very well might be the end of the world, in yuuta's eyes.)
"you like me?"
you're the first to talk again, breaking the boy out of his mind. he thinks you look so pretty, even when you're just standing there, even when you're confused, even when you might turn him down.
right now, there is no warzone more chaotic than okkotsu yuuta's mind. there is no nuclear warfare as destructive as the storm thundering through his neurons. there has never been a no man's land as deathly and ghastly as the folds of his brain are at that moment. there are a thousand thoughts buzzing around in his head- all of them say the same thing. i like you, i like you, i like you, his brain chants in a million ways.
he breathes in. and then out again. here goes nothing.
okkotsu yuuta opens his mouth and puts every ounce of trust he has into his words. 'i like you,' he repeats to himself in his head, waiting for his tongue to echo those syllables out loud.
yuuta has never been lucky. he should've expected the wires of his mind to be crossed. because of the dozens of trains of thought traveling at breakneck speeds around his head, the tracks of 'do you like me back?' and 'can i kiss you?" cross paths. he is so, so unlucky, because all he ends up saying is "do you kiss me back?"
you blink at him. he blinks at you. "do i what?"
it's then yuuta realizes his mistake. "oh. oh, oh no. wait. i meant- i didn't mean- i didn't want to say that. no, no, you don't have to kiss me- i mean, i wouldn't, like- wait, no. no. i'm sorry. i'm so- i am so sorry. oh my gosh. i didn't mean to say that."
yuuta's gaze is fixed hard on the ground, so he doesn't see you moving to close the distance between the both of you. his own mind is racing so he can barely register the feeling of your warm hands cupping his face. he's going so insane that he thinks he might be imagining how you promptly slam your lips against his with a conviction he thinks he could fall in love with.
he doesn't realize what's happening at first, but as soon as he does, he's kissing back. it's messy, and decidedly not neat- he's not sure what he's doing but it feels so right that he thinks he'll let himself fail for a little bit- but it's perfect to the both of you.
"you talk," you say when you pull away, "so much. like, a lot."
he looks at you like you hold the sun in the sky and brought fire to mankind. "you kissed me."
"i guess i did."
"so.. you do like me back?"
you purse your lips and move your arms around his neck, shifting even closer. your lips ghost his cheek and you can feel the shiver passing through him. "maybe just a little," you can't help but tease.
"i'll like you enough for the both of us, then. i kinda already do, i think."
Tumblr media
✄ this was written for the mitsies 3k follower event with the prompts they’re nervous to confess so instead of saying ‘can i kiss you’ or ‘do you like me back’ they say “do you kiss me back?” + kissing to get them to stop talking
[⇥ 3K EVENT MASTERLIST] [⇥ 3K EVENT INFO]
Tumblr media
1K notes · View notes