#because they dorks are that far gone for each other
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Fake Boyfriend Part 1
This was going to be an AO3 exclusive until I found out I couldn't do the strikethrough coding for the titles over there and until I think of one that works as well as this one does, it goes here first. There is a second part that will be posted on Tuesday as it got a tad too long for Tumblr (clocking out at over 3k).
Summary: After most of the older teens have gone off to college, Eddie goes over to Steve's to hang out. When he finds Steve on the phone with one of his co-workers, he tells Steve to pretend Eddie is his boyfriend to get the guy to back off via notes on his notebook. It works better than he could possibly dream as the more Steve describes his "boyfriend" the more it sounds real.
***
Eddie let himself into the Harrington mansion like he always did, backpack slung over his shoulder. Steve and he was long since past caring about knocking on each others’ houses’ doors. Bedrooms on the other hand were sacrosanct and closed doors were to be respected at all times, but their houses? Open invitation. Always.
He went straight to the kitchen because if Steve was going to be anywhere in that labyrinthine house of his, it was going to be the kitchen. He entered through the open doorway just as Steve snapped.
“Fuck you!” he growled.
Eddie frowned. “Hey!”
Steve turned and he could see that Steve was on the phone with someone. The other man mouthed, ‘Sorry!’ when he spotted Eddie in the doorway.
“I gave you this number for work purposes only,” Steve continued with a sigh. “I’m just not interested in you, Caleb. How many times do I have to tell you?”
Understanding slowly dawned over Eddie. He knew who Steve was talking to now. Caleb worked at the same hair salon Steve did and was constant thorn in Steve’s side. Always flirting with him and just generally making Steve uncomfortable.
He ripped the backpack off of his shoulder and started digging around. He pulled out a notebook and a pen. He turned to a blank page and wrote: TELL HIM YOU HAVE A BOYFRIEND
Steve looked at the sign with a frown of confusion. ‘But I don’t’ he mouthed back.
Eddie pointed at himself.
Steve chewed on his thumb for a moment before he nodded. “Caleb!” he said interrupting the other man’s stream of consciousness that he was just spewing at Steve on the end of the line. “Look. I didn’t want to have to pull this card because ‘no’ is a complete sentence, but I have a boyfriend.”
Eddie gave him a thumbs up.
“I haven’t brought him up before because he’s not out–”
Eddie scoffed, smirking with a raised eyebrow.
“I mean we’re not out as a couple to our friends and family,” Steve amended, sticking his tongue out at him. “Of course they know I’m bisexual and he’s gay, they just don’t know that we’ve been dating.”
That was certainly true, especially considering that they weren’t actually dating.
Eddie scribbled another note: WAYNE
“Well,” Steve said with a huff of laughter, “his uncle knows, but my parents don’t.”
Eddie started on another note, but Steve beat him to it. “It’s a small house and thin walls, the dude was going to find out sooner or later.”
Eddie nearly choked on his own tongue. His eyes nearly bulged out of his head in shock.
Steve laughed. “And have my parents walk in on us? Fuck that. I trust his Uncle Wayne way more than I do my parents.”
Eddie looked down at the half-written message that would have spelled out TRUST with a fond smile on his face.
Steve rolled his eyes. “What do you mean you want me to prove he exists? Like describe him or something?”
Eddie jotted down another note: PERSISTANT BASTARD
Steve slammed a hand over his mouth to cover the laugh that bubbled to his lips.
He cleared his throat. “So are we talking looks or personality?” he asked. “Because I could go on about both.”
Eddie raised an eyebrow, causing Steve’s cheeks flush.
“Looks?” Steve asked, his voice a little high at the absurdity of it all. “Oh. Wow. Yeah. He’s got the most amazingly soulful brown eyes I’ve ever seen outside of the movies. I’ve heard people describe them as doe-eyed or puppy-dog eyes. They aren’t bad descriptions, just... not close enough. I don’t think there is a word or phrase that matches their glory.”
Eddie shoved his hair in front of mouth to hide his embarrassment. Steve took a step toward him.
“He has long hair in soft curly locks that frame his face,” Steve continued and Eddie dropped the aforementioned lock, choosing to duck his head, and look away, rocking back on his heels.
Steve took another step forward. “He has these dimples that just light up his whole countenance when he smiles. They are the single most kissable part of his face, if you don’t include his lips.”
Eddie’s mind was spinning out of control, because there was no way Steve was making this up on the spot. These had to be things Steve had actually thought about.
But Steve wasn’t done talking. “He’s whipcord thin, but don’t let that fool you. He is strong, so strong.”
Eddie head jerked up and stared at Steve in amazement.
The other boy ducked his head, twirling his fingers around the phone cord. “I told you could go on and on about his looks, man. I could tell you about how long his eyelashes are or his legs that give him this causal sensuality that should be fucking illegal.”
Eddie didn’t think he could get any redder. He was so, so wrong.
“You want me to wax poetic about his personality now?” Steve asked incredulously. “No, I’m not describing Jon Bon Jovi. He’d be offended at the comparison. Eddie Van Halen is closer to the mark, or maybe Kirk Hemmett if you really make him blush.”
Cue Eddie’s blush burning his ears and flushing his throat; a part of his body that was refusing to do what it was supposed to and fucking allow breath to enter his lungs.
“What’s he like?” Steve breathed and Eddie was instantly jealous of his ability to do so. “He is so smart.”
Eddie snorted divisively.
“The school system may have failed him more times then I care to count,” Steve insisted, “but god, he is so clever, coming up with stories on fly. He has all this knowledge of so many things. He learned elvish and is learning dwarfish.” He snorted. “Because he can.”
Eddie blushed. Even his friends from Hellfire and Corroded Coffin thought he was a little insane trying to learn those languages. Not Steve, apparently.
“He uses it for his D&D games–campaigns, sorry,” Steve said, more to Eddie then to Caleb. Eddie mouthed ‘It’s okay.’ And Steve lit up with the brightest smile.
He took another step forward. “You know those kids that come into the store all the time?” Steve burst out laughing. “Yes, my kids. He loves them as much as I do. Maybe even more.”
Eddie scrambled to write another note: NOT POSSIBLE
Steve blushed this time. “Understands them better, certainly.”
Eddie cocked his head to the side and half shrugged. That was fair.
“He DMs for them every week,” Steve continued. “DM? Oh that stands for dungeon master. It’s like the storyteller or master of the story. He sets the path for the characters to follow or blatantly ignore.”
Eddie huffed out a laugh.
“He does the voices for each person the party meets and it always makes me laugh,” Steve said. “My favorite is the voice he did for the princess. I don’t think there was a dry eye from all the laughing everyone was doing.”
Eddie grinned. That was his favorite, too. He had done it to make Steve laugh, the fact that it had made everyone else laugh too was just icing on the cake.
“Which, of course, impressed Dustin,” Steve said. He paused. “Oh Dustin is the one with curly hair and those hats.”
Eddie rolled his eyes. That’s another strike against this Caleb dude, not knowing the names of Steve’s kids. Like they came as a packaged deal. Everyone knew that.
Steve cleared his throat and looked down as he too felt Caleb’s disinterest keenly as well. “Anyway, anyone who can impress that little butthead is number one in my book.”
Eddie smiled tenderly at Steve before he jotted down a note again. YOU IMPRESS HIM TOO.
Steve blushed. “He can take his talent for story telling into song writing as well. He might not be the singer of his band–” There was another pause. “Yeah, an honest to god, plays at The Hideout every Tuesday metal band. He plays guitar. Lead, not rhythm. His best friend Jeff is rhythm guitar and their lead singer. He can read music and learn a song by ear. Do you know how fucking rare that is? To be able to do both? Trust me, it’s rare, okay?”
“Look, Caleb,” Steve growled, “don’t get pissy with me. You asked me describe my boyfriend. I warned you that I could go on and on.”
Eddie could barely breathe. This was starting to feel less like an excuse to get this asshole to stop harassing Steve and more and more real with every compliment that came out of his friend’s mouth.
Steve’s own breath caught in his chest. He looked directly at Eddie, so full of adoration, Eddie was sure his heart full on stopped.
“Yeah, of course I do,” Steve murmured, “of course I love him. God, how could I not. He means everything to me.” He tried to step forward but the cord got caught in his fingers, so he unwrapped it and took a final step toward Eddie. The cord was now taut, stretched as far as it could go.
Eddie could tell that the scant two feet between them was too far for Steve, but he was tethered to phone. He knew that that ache and longing in Steve’s face mirrored his own expression.
“And I am so grateful I get to call him mine...” Steve finished, his breath shallow as he fought to get his heart rate under control.
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***
Part 2
#my writing#stranger things#steddie#ladykailtiha writes#fake relationship#for all of ten minutes#because they dorks are that far gone for each other
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not for a second longer - fox mulder x female reader (fluff)
fox is coming home from a case that's got him missing you like crazy, and you're (im)patiently waiting.
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my ao3 | word count: 3,070
content tags: dorks in love, fox mulder misses you, domestic fox mulder, fluff, domestic fluff, worry, romance, waiting, overthinking, fox is an idiot (/pos), reunited and it feels so good, just soft fluff that's all, cross-posted on ao3, mentions of murder/case material but briefly!
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fox felt like if another second passed without hearing your voice, he might go insane, and this was a first- even for a complete lover boy like him.
the agent has been away on a case for a few days. not much shorter or longer than any other work he’s done, but this time he couldn’t bear being far from home. he’d done everything just as he always does- there were no changes in the routine he’s tailored since he met you. he called every night to let you know he was safe and hear about your day, even if it was late and he woke you up by doing so; he’d remind you to feed his fish, and ask you about that nagging coworker who the two of you nicknamed hannibal because he always brought something creepily edible for lunch (the man ate steak tartare like his life dependent on it, honestly.) and you’d complain, like always, and you’d ask how his case was going, which would lead to him willingly divulging all kinds of classified information just for fun. you’d offer advice if you could. you weren’t as invested in the paranormal as he was, but you’d had your share of spooky stories, so your middle-of-the-road perspective helped at times. the phone call was always the same, but it didn’t matter what you talked about. he just wanted to hear your voice as badly as you did his, and it put you both at ease. so he called.
like clockwork, fox admired the engraved backside of his watch before he fell asleep every night, where it said don’t keep me waiting. it was an inside joke that sparked when you’d first started dating. fox warned you up and down about how dangerous his job can be, how he’s been injured and in and out of hospitals and how multiple criminals are likely sitting on plans for his murder if they ever break out of incarceration. he prepared to see you get overwhelmed and leave him due to the potential stress; yet when he packed up for his first case, you kissed him softly, no fear to be felt, and told him not to keep you waiting because you couldn’t promise to keep his fishes alive while he was gone. the watch was last christmas’ gift, and he never took it off, especially when he was away.
fox even kept with his dorky tradition of taking one of the many shirts you’d left at his apartment and sleeping with it under his pillow, where he could hold onto it and feel like he at least had a piece of you while he was alone. when you found out he did such a thing, you teased him brutally, and then you began leaving clothes in every corner of the apartment for him to save. and you left your spare perfume bottle in his bathroom cabinet, so he could concentrate them with you.
the man took all the cheesiest precautions to make his work out of state bearable until he could solve the damned things and get back home, but even with all of his bases covered, it wasn't enough. something felt different this time. coming back to a motel every night, like he had for his whole career before he met you, was torture. every moment of the case strung him farther out. now, if you’d asked the lovely and level-headed dana scully why fox was so eager to be done with the case, she would’ve given you a plain and simple explanation: the two were investigating a string of seemingly unrelated murders by men unto their girlfriends, but fox had a suspicion that some kind of entity persuaded each man to kill the girl who kept their beds warm. and with every day that they didn’t track the cause down, he felt the pressing weight of your safety and how much he cared for you, and it was making him- as scully would kindly put it, of course- act out extremely irrationally. even you could put two and two together there, but he’d been a bit avoidant over the phone about this one job, so you didn’t know. fox refused to think about you in connection to the work, though, because to allow his brain to cross its signals and imagine you and him as victim and suspect (as a paranoid brain might) would just be stupid. but whether he meant to think of you or not, everything was putting him on edge by association, and he was itching to see you happy and healthy and still his.
by the time fox deciphered that the newest date-night romantic comedy at the local movie theater was having midnight showings, and the ticket booth operator was a twenty-five year old involuntary celebate who was admitting loving couples into the place and watching them make out right in front of his jealous eyes, the case was a one-and-done. scully didn’t buy that the employee was telekinetically causing the boyfriends to kill, but the kid got shot in a police chase, so fox was left to his conclusions and she to hers. and he couldn’t drag her ass out of town fast enough. fox was two hours early to the airport. he bounced his leg on the entire flight home, and scully barely got a “see you tomorrow” out by the time he hailed a cab and ordered the driver to his address.
his gut was twisting itself in knots, hoping you’d be home. you practically lived with him by how much time you spent at his apartment; the truth was that he was away so often, and you just couldn’t sleep unless you could curl up in his bed, with his pillows and blankets and wearing his clothes, and let everything that belonged to him comfort you until you got the man back himself. he knew you’d be there- it was nearly one in the morning. but still, after all this time staring at dead girls and thinking about how in love they were with the trusted boys who slit their throats, he just wanted to collect you into his arms and keep you there.
you were wide awake because you knew he was on his way. you stayed up all night watching all the classic movies he had on tape, glancing at the clock, trying to stop obsessing over the unlikely crash of his plane. you were standing in his little kitchen, watching the tea kettle boil and listening to the fuzzy transatlantic accents yapping a room away, when the front door of the apartment swung open.
you didn’t even have time to leave the kitchen. fox threw his bags down like a child and scurried to you, engulfing you in his arms; he drew your body snugly into his and buried his face in your shoulder. he was squeezing the air from your lungs, but you didn’t mind. you combed your fingers through his moussed-up hair, breaking up the curated clumps and reminding it of how it naturally fell against his head. he smelled just as he did when he left, like his ralph lauren polo green- minty and smoky, and so much himself. his soft leather jacket hung onto the smell of his taxi, but you ignored the staleness and inhaled the good stuff.
“i missed you so much,” fox sighed. the man showered you with kisses all over your neck and jaw, traveling up the valleys of your cheeks to make sure he got your eyes and nose and forehead, too. you squirmed playfully and swatted at his hands, but he only smiled and fought you off.
“jeez, it’s like you thought i died or something!” you giggled.
fox’s eyes flashed with something that looked like momentary worry, and then it was gone- replaced with a warmth you’d missed more than you realized the past few days. his arms were around you again, this time much gentler, and he asked, “you feel safe with me, don’t you?”
“what? fox, why would you even ask that? of course i do,”
“you know i’d never hurt you,”
“baby, you’re the only person in the world i feel safe with.” you promised, petting the back of his head softly, smoothing the hair down his neck. with both hands, you lifted his face from your shoulder and brought his face close, so you could look right into his ruminative eyes. the man smiled as your thumbs caressed the stubble growing in on his cheeks, those rounded teeth poking out beneath his top lip the way you adored. your chest fluttered, and you couldn’t help but return the gesture.
“are you okay, baby?” you asked, knocking your forehead against his playfully.
the man dipped his neck low and pressed his lips to the corner of your mouth. somehow it felt more intimate than if he’d truly kissed you; like by being an inch off base, he was saying more than the real thing could. he always did things like that, such small gestures that would go unnoticed if he was any other guy and you were any other girl, but every move fox made was conscious. each one was a choice that meant something. kissing you in such a way wasn’t a mistake, it was purposeful- he was proving his allegiance, ruling your mouth was more sacred and deserved to be earned. he was poetic in that respect, you knew it, and it made every hair on your body stand up. maybe that’s why you shifted your position and locked him in a normal kiss- a forceful one, at that. to remind him that you were nothing sacred, just someone who desperately loved him.
you’d missed the way his lips molded to yours, the familiar chapped patches that came from his nervous biting, the way his scruff scratched your chin. you even missed the feeling of his breath as it blew out of his nose and across your face, warm and frequent, because he always seemed to breathe faster when you got close, like a teenage boy. you kissed him hard, letting your hands fall down his chest and press against his abdomen, remembering the sculpted curves of his stomach beneath his t-shirt. fox’s lips curled upwards as you touched him, and in those few moments of your neediness, he was sure you meant what you said before- that you truly did feel safe with him.
when he pulled away, he brought the pad of his thumb to your plump bottom lip, holding you by the chin. “i’ve been going crazy without you, you know.”
“so have-” you began, but were cut off by the sudden screeching of the forgotten kettle behind you. both fox and yourself jumped, and you rushed to twist the knob on the stove, shutting the thing up in frustration. “sorry.”
“it’s okay,” the agent chuckled.
“you want some?”
“only if you bring it over to the couch for me,” fox said, batting his eyelashes jokingly.
“what am i, your mother?” you countered.
fox rolled his eyes and pressed another kiss to your lips, rebutting, “no, but you do love me, don’t you?”
“oh, shut up. go unpack.”
you listened to his footsteps as he went to retrieve his bags and haul them to his bedroom. smiling to yourself, you waited to hear him open the door and laugh. every time he came home, you left his bed an unruly mess and accumulated as many water cups on his nightstand as possible, and he had a love-hate relationship with it (mostly love, because he adored the idea of you living in his space.) a full-bodied sound came from the other side of the apartment, a hearty one, and a voice called, “impressive collection you’ve got in here!”
with two steeping cups of oolong you walked slowly back to fox’s living room, where his copy of vertigo had rewinded to the start. you settled into the couch, putting your feet up on the coffee table and watching jimmy stewart dangle from a drainpipe as you awaited your boyfriend’s return. it always took him a little while to unpack because it was more like repacking- he would swap out all his worn clothes with new ones and throw everything in the hamper, and he had to take out all his necessities only to keep them somewhere easy for him to grab come the next time work sends him away. you were used to waiting for him, but how he acted tonight was making you impatient.
when fox was finally done and changed into a clean shirt and pajama pants, he headed towards the hallway to come and sit with you. but he paused when he came to the corner, making his steps quiet, so he could take a look at you undisturbed. you were slouched on his old, rickety couch, in clothes all belonging to him; a pair of old gray sweatpants that hugged your thighs, given they were a bit bigger than his skinny ones, his old oxford long sleeve that has a hole in the neck, and a frumpy blue grandpa-style cardigan he hasn’t worn in years. your hair was tucked away in an unraveling braid, with little locks fanning like leaves across the apples of your cheeks. your chipped nails cradled the mug in your palms, and the colors from the box television danced in the reflection of your chunky tortoiseshell glasses. he imagined you sitting like this while he was off on a case, at home in his home, watching his movies and wondering about him like he did of you late at night. you were so pretty and so important that he felt the love buzzing in his fingertips and toes.
the man came around the corner and sat down cautiously on the couch so as not to spill your tea. your face softened at his arrival, and you leaned forward to place your cup down and clamber back to him, throwing your arms around his neck. fox hoisted you onto his lap despite your objections, and he hugged you tighter. he just didn’t feel like letting you go tonight, it seemed.
“did you eat?” you asked, looking down into those puppy eyes that gazed up.
“a little while ago.”
“how long was a little while ago?”
“...ten o'clock this morning?” fox grinned sheepishly.
“fox! aren’t you starving? let me go heat something up, i got chinese last night-”
“shh, no, not yet,” he grabbed your hips as you tried to get off of him, “don’t go anywhere yet. sit for a minute.”
“but-”
“no buts. just sit with me a little longer and then i promise i’ll eat, okay?”
you sighed, only half-aggravated, and nodded softly. “alright, fine.”
you rested your head in the crook of his neck, your shoulder pressed to his; he twisted you a bit so you had a chance to look at the tv and sit on him at the same time. fox’s fingers traced mindless shapes against the fabric of his sweatpants on your knee, finally at ease. you stole a glance at him from the side and admired the way even his harshest features seemed to curve softly; his square jaw melted into his neck, his aquiline nose a pretty protrusion alongside his lashes that curled wildly. you always thought his face was the most deserving of marble preservation, far more than those ancient guys.
“you're missing the movie,” he flushed.
“i already watched it tonight.”
the man nuzzled your forehead like a puppy, feeling his stomach flip as your palm rested flat against his chest. you snuggled right up to him and let out a heavy breath you didn’t know you were holding. the two of you sat quietly for a while, taking turns watching each other and remembering what it felt like to be close, and you were half-asleep in the comfort of his arms when his stomach growled and woke you up.
“i’m gonna go make you something,” you chuckled.
“awh, come on, you were just about to sleep!” he whined.
“fox, i want you to eat. once you have a little something then i’ll climb right back on you, promise,” you teased, pushing up off the couch.
“whatever,” he groaned, but there was a toothy smile behind the complaint, so you took it well.
fox watched as you sauntered off to the kitchen, and he called after you, “hey, wait,”
“what?”
the man hopped off the couch and scrambled to the doorway, where you were only feet from the refrigerator. he stooped down and planted a smooch to your forehead, muttering an, “i love you.”
“just can’t leave my side now, hm?” you nudged fox’s nose with your own and gave him a look so fond it nearly melted him into a puddle on the kitchen tile. “i love you more. now beat it, spooky.”
“hey!”
“shush. go sit down and i’ll make it up to you later.”
‘you’re bossy,” fox crossed his arms, leaning against the wood molding and watching you move towards the fridge.
“well, if you’re not gonna leave, then at least get a pan for me to heat this rice up in, would you?” you ordered, shaking the day-old fried rice container in his face.
“anything for you, darling.”
being without each other could feel impossible at times. no matter how he tried, no set routine could recreate the feeling of falling asleep beside you; nor could any amount of his laundry could conjure fox himself to send you off to work with a kiss every morning. his work made it easy to miss him. but moments like this, where he watched you make him a late-night snack that he would share with you, were the moments that made all the waiting worth it. and the moments that will come after, too- the couch that was waiting for you both to come back to, where you’d fall asleep with your face against his neck, and where he’d fall asleep watching you breathe. nobody knew that absence makes the heart grow fonder more intimately than you two did. but even with that in mind, neither of you cared about that right now.
he was simply thankful to be with you, the one he called home; thankful that he didn’t have to be without you for a second longer, and so were you.
#spooky mulder#x files#fox mulder#fox mulder x you#fox mulder x reader#fox mulder fluff#fox mulder x reader fluff#domestic fluff#domestic fox mulder#soft fox mulder#x files fanfic#Spotify
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I HAD NO IDEA SEASON 2 CAME OUT ALREADY SO NOW IM GOING TO SCREAM ABOUT IT
Episode 1:
CROWLEY WANTED TO TAKE AZIRAPHALE BACK TO THE PLACE THEY FIRST MET
CROWLEY PROTECTED AZIRAPHALE FIRST IM SCREAMING
(My brother actually came into my room to tell me to shut up)
Of course Aziraphale would just forgive 8 months rent
Lmao Gabriel’s just walking down the street ass naked
Gabriel just hugged Aziraphale I can’t
“James. Long for Jim, short for Gabriel”
Crowley knows Aziraphale so well, but poor guy he only calls him for 3 reasons
Poor Crowley is trying so hard not to freak out about the “naked man friend”
The conversation between Crowley and Jim I can’t
Maggie and Nina are trapped together!!
Michael and Uriel are fighting let’s gooo
Crowley just casually let the girls out lmao
THERES AN I WAS WRONG DANCE OH MY GOD
THEYRE PERFORMING A MIRACLE TOGETHER
Aaaaaand of course it goes immediately wrong
Episode 2:
Gabriel’s wig is atrocious
IS AZIRAPHALE GOING TO BE THE SUPREME ARCHANGEL NOW
A jukebox that turns every song into Everyday like the Bentley with Queen, hmmm….
Crowley looks like a doting partner bringing his husband a drink
“Get humans wet and staring into each other’s eyes, vavoom, sorted” sir… are you telling me that’s what did it for you???
Crowley’s so confounded that Jane Austen wrote books
THE VOICE OF GOD???
HE TURNED ALL THE GOATS INTO BIRDS
Crowley scaring the kids cause they were brats but not actually killing them aww
The little girl asking to be a blue lizard with her siblings she’s so cute
CROWLEY TAUGHT AZIRAPHALE TO EAT
I cannot believe Aziraphale was the first to talk about sides I love them
Crowley and Aziraphale working together for the first time to save the kids
Aziraphale looks so shaken to have lied poor baby
Crowley babe he’s begging for you to drive him
“Our car” you can’t take it that far lol
Poor Aziraphale really thought he was gonna fall he was about to cry
Crowley was so soft in that last scene
Episode 3:
Jim’s stuff is all labeled
Aziraphale looks like a proud father to Muriel
Crowley’s moving the plants to use the car
They both look like parents I love them
Crowley brought Aziraphale to a cemetery because he thought it would amuse him, that is date behavior
Crowley is about to kill Aziraphale for changing his car
NESSIE?!?!
“Operation: Lovebirds” Crowley is such a dork
Aziraphale just is not getting anything lol
Crowley… shrunk himself??? And then grew himself????
Crowley tempted her to be good I love him
I love the very closed sign
Demons can’t enter somewhere uninvited???
He’s so angry Aziraphale might be hurt
Episode 4:
BEEBOP
“His type”????
“I remember hearing that you and Crowley were an item” HOLY SHIT
HE CALLED CROWLEY HIS GOOD FRIEND AFTER THE CHURCH!!!
“This office has gone 13 5 0 days without anyone saying ‘THE ROAD TO HELL IS PAVED’”
Glad to see Aziraphale in his magic era
Crowley’s impression is hilarious
“Someone you can really trust” and his first thought is Crowley 🥹
Aziraphale has a gun and Crowley has never shot one
Crowley was shaking he was so scared and Aziraphale was so proud of his trick
Furfur not knowing how to pronounce Aziraphale lmao
Sleight of hand!
Look at them finding a middle ground in shades of grey!
Lmao Crowley would murder him if he knew Aziraphale didn’t put the brakes
Episode 5:
They’re talking about Doctor Who
Aziraphale’s giving books and Crowley’s playing with crystal balls, I love them
Aziraphale being bad at French is so funny to me
Nina grilling Crowley on his relationship with Aziraphale is everything
Crowley was confronted with his feelings and immediately went out to get a drink with Aziraphale
Crowley’s so mad go off king
The matchbox!
Aww look at Crowley denying he’s nice
The romantic music while Crowley looks at Aziraphale with the chandelier
Oh. My. GOD. Jim’s suit!
Lol that’s not what I was expecting when they said masks will be provided
AZIRAPHALE WANTS TO DANCE WITH CROWLEY
THEYRE DANCING!!!!!!
“Surrender the angle”
Gabriel’s coat!!
“T. O. S. T. E.”
“You’re a good lad” “not actually, either”
“Rescuing me makes him so happy” you can’t just say things like that and expect me to be normal about it
Episode 6:
Crowley’s just bouncing around in heaven
“I’m done with being scared” *flips them the bird*
Oh sweetie, you meant well but no
“Crowley’s emotional support angel” yes, yes that’s exactly what he is
Crowley’s little supportive punch to Muriel was so cute
AZIRAPHALES HALO?!?!
THE FLY
Gabriel x Beelzebub confirmed??
The fact that Gabriel and Beelzebub were able to sort this out in a few years while it’s taken Crowley and Aziraphale 6000 is insane
And the fact that Aziraphale grabbed Crowley’s arm when he realized that
Crowley’s so impressed with Aziraphale bringing everyone to order
Aziraphale’s face at Crowley talking about Alpha Centauri
Aziraphale looking at Crowley with so much love in his eyes is giving me life
THE METATRON?!?!
Aziraphale looking to Crowley for permission I can’t
Crowley knowing Aziraphale will come back and saying they need “a little us time” at the Ritz
Crowley getting antsy that Aziraphale’s not back yet
Nina taking inspiration from Crowley and calling Maggie angel my beloved
Crowley looks devastated that Aziraphale interrupted him
Aziraphale looks so incredibly happy at getting Crowley to be an angel again but there’s no way Crowley wants that
Crowley’s getting so emotional
“Just be an us” stooooopppppp
“I need you” I can’t take this!
Nightingales
THEY KISSED!!!!!!!!!
Aziraphale touched his lips after I’m dying
Aziraphale stop being so stupid and get him back
The- the second coming??
YOU CANNOT END IT HERE
SCREAMING CRYING THROWING UP
Please tell me there will be a season 3 I can’t handle this
#I thought I had until tomorrow/midnight to watch it#this cannot be the real ending#somebody say sike right now#good omens#good omens spoilers#good omens 2#good omens 2 spoilers#good omens series 2#good omens s2#good omens season 2#good omens season two#crowley#aziraphale#go crowley#go aziraphale#crowley and aziraphale#crowley x aziraphale#ineffible husbands#muriel#nina and maggie#gabriel#go gabriel#good omens beelzebub#gabriel x beelzebub#go2#go 2 spoilers
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Maybe I Should've Asked You to Dinner First - Viktor
notes - VIKTOR BRAINROT. He is just too dang fine and this cute lil crusty scientist never fails to enter my mind out of nowhere. I have had this idea in my mind for a while, so I was ecstatic to finally get it down in fic form! I hope you all enjoy and have a super duper day and stay super duper hydrated!
word count - 1,496
You both sat in the car in silence as you drove, the occasional sound of Viktor clearing his throat the only thing you would hear.
Moments ago, you had gone to the store later than usual because you were simply bored, couldn't sleep, and figured you needed something to eat the next morning. You were in nothing but sweatpants and a hoodie, but really it didn't matter seeing as this wasn't work or anything.
During the drive back, you saw something that made you want to smack the back of Viktor's head.
The boy decided that he was going to walk home after staying a little too long at the lab that night.
Walk.
At night.
Alone.
With that leg of his.
God, why couldn't he ever ask for help?
You pulled over the car and got out, realizing that there was some icing on that cake that was already too many goddamn layers: it was raining.
"Vik?" you asked, making sure you weren't delusional. You held your arm over your eyes to block the rain.
"y-y/n?" Viktor stuttered, walking faster until he was only a couple feet away from you. "O-Oh, hey. What are you doing out here?"
"What am I doing out here?! What the hell are you doing out here?!"
"Walking?" he chuckled nervously.
God, you were going to kill him.
"No. Get in." You opened the passenger door and signaled for him to get in.
He tried to wave you off. "Don't worry about me. I don't want to be a burden or anything."
You stood with an unamused expression, your sweatpants getting wet from the rain. "Get in my goddamn car, Vik."
You got in the driver's seat and he hesitantly took a set in the passenger side.
"I can't believe that you tried walking home. Don't you live pretty far away from the lab?"
"I mean... yes? I usually take the bus, but it's a little late... so I just decided to walk."
"What would happen if it started raining, Vik? You don't even have a jacket!"
"I would've been fine, y/n. Don't worry about-"
"No you wouldn't have, Viktor! You could've gotten sick! And I know up here is safe and all, but your leg could get worse and-" You took a deep breath, gripping onto the wheel. "I can't believe I have to worry about you like this."
So it was then the awkward silence. Viktor clearing his throat as the radio played softly in the background. The rain seemed to be getting much worse and didn't look like it was going to calm down.
"Vik, would you be fine staying at my place tonight?" you asked, your eyes glued to the dark, wet road.
"Wh-What?" He turned to you, a little shocked, and his face was definitely heating up a bit.
"It's really pouring and my house is way closer. You don't mind, do you?" You turned to look at him for a second before looking back at the road and caught him nod. "Cool."
When you pulled up to the driveway, you quickly jumped out and grabbed your groceries before grabbing Viktor's arm to help him into your house.
You slammed the door behind you, sopping wet from just a second of being outside and shook yourself off like a dog, giggling a bit. "Jesus, that was an adventure. I still can't believe you insisted in walking in that."
"I didn't know it would get this bad." he admitted with a little chuckle, trying to free his hair of the rain water.
"Well, nonetheless, here we are. Just slip off your shoes and I'll go get us something comfortable to sleep in."
Viktor slipped off his shoes as you ran upstairs to find something that could fit him so that he could sleep comfortably. He looked around your comfortable little house full of pictures of you and your friends and even a couple of pictures of you, Viktor, and Jayce smiling like dorks.
The three of you had known each other for a long time, all creating HexTech together, and honestly, you three probably wouldn't be complete without each other.
Viktor smiled softly and walked around the rest of the house that smelt like warm cookies somehow, and felt even more like home than his own house.
"Here you go, Viktor!" you shouted, running down the stairs. You tossed his own hoodie and sweatpants at him and he looked surprised.
"Where did you get these?" he asked, his face a little red.
"I think you left them here a while ago. Kinda awesome though, right?"
"I suppose so." he said, turning over the clothes in his hands. "If you'll excuse me, I'm going to get these on."
"Go ahead! Just use the bathroom upstairs. And throw your wet clothes in the bathtub, I'll grab them to throw in the dryer later."
He just nodded at you and walked to the bathroom. The wet clothes that he had on clung to his body as he took them off and he didn't even want to know what they would be like after an hour or two long walk home. When he slipped on his pajamas, they smelt like you from being left in your house for god knows how long and it made his face heat a bit. All of this blushing was going to kill him.
He didn't want to admit it out loud, but he had definitely developed something of a crush for you after knowing you for so long and it was a tad embarrassing. You were just so smart and funny and never failed to be an amazing work partner and friend for life.
Even now, you drove him to your home when you didn't have to at all.
He buried his face in his hands and tried to throw the thought away, but it was so hard not to think of you and your pretty face.
When he opened the bathroom, he nearly fell backwards finding you right there.
You jumped back too and laughed. "Sorry, Vik. I didn't know you were still in there."
"I-It's fine." He handed you his wet clothes. "Sorry I scared you."
You took the clothes from him and began heading downstairs, but shouted up at him, "hey, Vik, sleep wherever tonight."
Sleep... wherever?
His mind went straight to the couch... well, that was a lie. His brain's first thought was to sleep in your bed, but that meant he had to sleep on the couch. But instead of moving, he just stood frozen in the hallway, trying to think of what 'wherever' could mean.
"Your clothes are in the dryer," you told Viktor as you walked up the stairs. "Do you need anything else?"
He turned to you and smiled, shaking his head. "I think I'll be okay, thank you."
"Of course. If you need anything, just knock. Are you sleeping on the couch?"
"Yeah."
You walked to a little closet full of extra blankets and handed him one and a couple of pillows. "Well, sweet dreams, Vik."
"Thanks for letting me stay here for the night," he told you, taking the blankets. "It means a lot. You really didn't have to do all of this."
"I wasn't just going to leave you out there, dummy." you giggled, giving his chest a playful punch.
You two only stood inches away from each other and you couldn't help but stare at his cute little freckles and his dark eyes that prayed for sleep.
Before you could make any move though, Viktor moved forward and pressed his lips to yours, the only thing in the way being the blankets he was holding.
It was a short kiss, but it left you blushing, that was for sure.
"Goodnight, y/n." he stuttered out before getting to the stairs.
"W-Wait!"
He turned around and you froze. What were you supposed to say?
"Do you wanna sleep in my bed tonight? I know the couch is probably uncomfortable."
You panicked. Where did that come from?! You felt like such an idiot, you just wanted to curl up and-
"R-Really? I don't want to be a-"
"You're not a burden, Vik, at all. Please, I would be more than happy. It's big enough for two anyway."
Viktor followed you to your room where a very comfortable bed sat. He doesn't even remember the last time he didn't fall asleep at his desk and instead on a comfortable bed. But to imagine lying there with you was giving him butterflies.
You fell into the bed first and quickly pulled Viktor down next to you. His skin was cold against yours. He fell next to you on the bed - the poor skinny boy nearly losing his breath when he landed - and you wrapped your arms around his waist, laying your head on his chest.
"I should have probably asked you to dinner first, huh, y/n?"
"Maybe," you giggled. "But this is nice."
~~~~~
arcane masterlist | pinned post
2023 @tonberry-yoda – do not repost or claim ANY of my work as your own! likes, reblogs, and comments are not only welcome, but appreciated
~~~~~
#PLEASE HE IS SO FINE#I CANT HELP BUT STARE AT HIM#i love him tee hee#enjoy!! <3#writing#fanfic#my writing#fanfiction#<3#x reader#arcane#arcane x reader#league of legends#league of legends x reader#arcane league of legends#viktor#viktor x reader#arcane viktor#arcane viktor x reader
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chapter one
Fandom: My Hero Academia
Pairing: Dabi x Reader
Words: 6.2k
A/N: The first chapter of my lil Dabi passion project. Partially inspired by "Haunting Adeline" (awesome book but PLEASE heed the warnings in it). The full list of warnings is included in the main masterlist, but individual ones will be posted at the beginning of each chapter. Also this is my first time writing from both Reader and Dabi's perspective, so I hope it's not too bad. I hope you enjoy!
Warnings: 18+ only (minors DNI), explicit language, mentions of arson, mentions of violence, stalking, breaking and entering, working in retail (I'm sorry), Reader lives in a cute lil house in the middle of the woods, Reader also has 3 plushies (that all have names, because I'm a dork)
"Kerosene and Butterflies" Masterlist
It’s raining again, for the fourth day in a row. Barely any light to work with at the little workspace you’ve made for yourself at the kitchen table. So instead you rest your hands on your arms, watching the rain patter against the window panes. Pen and paper pushed away and left forgotten on the surface.
Rain always makes you feel nice. Not happy or sad, just nice. Gives you something to look at, the sound mindless enough to put you at ease. Soft and warm, more often than not lulling you to sleep with its voice. It’s hard to explain, but it seems to make sense in your mind.
Your phone lights up on the table with a text. It’s your mother again, sending her weekly check-in text. Even though you’re perfectly capable of taking care of yourself and living on your own. But it’s more for her than you; you think it helps her cope with one of her kids living abroad, so far out of her reach.
Well, that’s what enticed you about this house in the first place, but you’ll never tell her that.
With a yawn you grab your phone and send a quick reply. Yes you’re okay, you’re getting enough sleep, you miss her home cooked meals. Call her tomorrow, put her mind at ease. Buy another few days of freedom before the cycle inevitably repeats itself.
When you finish and place your phone back down, you give the paper and pen one last look. Maybe you could try one more time, see if anything comes to mind?
Your chest deflates at the thought. No, the spark is long gone. Try again a different day, get some sleep for now. You need it.
You can almost hear it laughing at you, the uncapped pen lying dangerously close to its blank skin. You’ve been hearing it for the last hour or so, wracking your brain to come up with something, anything. Words, ideas, or even bullet points you can just jot down in your chicken scratch handwriting. Just a sliver of something to get those creative juices flowing.
But your eyelids are already drooping, the rainy weather not helping you one bit. Your brain feels like it’s all dried up, giving you a never-ending headache. Telling you that you’ve already reached your peak; that nothing else you make will ever come close to how you want it to come out.
Oh well. Tomorrow’s another day, right?
But you know damn well you’ll be back to square one tomorrow night, when you get home from work. Staring at that blank page with your head in your hands, praying for the words to come. For the inspiration to strike—to make you feel anything other than this.
At least the paper’s still good, maybe you can use it for a shopping list later in the week. That way it’ll get some good use out of it.
Your job isn’t exactly the flashiest; definitely not what you envisioned yourself doing at twenty-four years old. Working at a dead-end department store in the shady part of town, along with four or five other people—and none of them are close to you in age. But it keeps the bills paid and food in your fridge, so you guess it’s not as bad as it could be. You could do without the annoying entitled customers, though.
At least your shift stretches into the latter half of the day, meaning you only have to deal with them for about four hours, five tops if you end up taking your lunch break late. Then the store closes, the customers are ushered out, and you spend the rest of your time stocking the shelves and getting ready for the next busy day.
Most nights the store’s already empty, with only a handful of customers roaming the aisles. That gives you some extra time to start stocking; you prefer putting stuff back on the shelves rather than ringing on register anyways. Register gets boring and repetitive fast, but working on the floor always gives you something new to do.
“Excuse me, where can I find the laundry detergent?”
“Down the next aisle and to your left, all the way down at number twenty-four.”
“Where’s the soup and all the instant meals?”
“Right over here actually, on the middle shelf.”
“You have any beer?”
“Last aisle down, all the way to the end. You’ll see the freezer straight ahead.”
Every interaction gives you a rush of excitement, as sad as it sounds. In all honesty, your job isn’t the complete worst. Most customers are fine and even pleasant to deal with, and it always makes you feel good when you’re able to help them find something on their lists. Besides, it tests your knowledge of the store, almost like a matching game; after three years of working in the same place, you pretty much know it like the back of your hand.
Tonight seems like one of those lazy nights, with only a couple customers roaming through the aisles, the lone cashier at the registers looking like he’s about to fall asleep. You’re sorting through the grocery bin at the front (either what customers decided they didn’t want, or items found randomly throughout the store). There’s quite a bit today, must’ve been pretty busy earlier in the day.
It doesn’t take long to put the shelf-ready stuff into a cart and trek down to the grocery section. Most of it is candy anyways, which is in the first couple aisles. One item after another, until you start to see the bottom of the cart.
You step back from the shelf, a handful of candy bars clenched between your fingers, when your back suddenly collides into something—or someone, judging by the grunt they let out.
“Sorry! I didn’t mean that, I should really watch where I’m going, I’m really sorry about that—”
The words die right there on your tongue as you glance up at the person. You can barely see his face behind the dark mask over his mouth and his hood pulled over his hair. But something catches your eye—something dark and heavy beneath his eyes.
He’s got some serious bags under his eyes, poor guy must be working himself to death. Must be a college student, you know how it feels.
Wait a minute…bags?
Your head begins to buzz. You don’t think you’ve ever seen bags bad enough to leave the skin so…wrinkled. Almost like they’re—
But he’s already walking away, his hands shoved into the pockets of his hoodie. Head hanging low and shoulders tense as he disappears down the next aisle.
It’s not until another customer asks you where the hand soap is, that you remember to blink—and breathe. It takes a bit of effort, but you manage to give them the right aisle across the store. But then you’re staring off into space once more, thinking about the strange person in the black hoodie and mask.
Dark patches under his eyes… Could it really be…?
No way, stop thinking like that. You know where your mind is going, don’t you dare entertain the thought.
You shake your head. You’re being ridiculous. It’s getting late, anyway. You didn’t get that much sleep last night to begin with, it’s early to bed when you get home later tonight.
You file the last of the candy in its proper home on the shelf before heading down the main path towards the registers. Pet food, paper goods, detergent, body wash… A couple aisles here and there for every department. You should check and see if there’s any chemicals up front that need to go back on the shelf. Probably the easiest department for you to handle, other than food and appliances—
Your jaw drops when you turn the corner and come face-to-face with the dark stranger from earlier. Staring down at you with those dark eyes—no, the patches are dark, his eyes are actually quite bright, and oh my fucking God they’re blue—
There’s something sticking out of his pocket—the red and white label of a box of Band-Aids. And that’s not the only thing in there, judging by the awkward bulges and pointy corners. Maybe some extra medicine or painkillers.
You glance back up at him. Neither of you make any move to leave.
“…I won’t tell if you won’t.”
The words are out of your mouth before you can stop them. All you can think about is how this little corner of the store lacks any functioning security cameras, and how it’s probably only a few dollars, it won’t necessarily put the store out of business if he gets away with it. Just this one time. No one has to know, except the two of you.
He’s glaring now, probably curling his lip at you from behind the mask. You swallow the growing lump in your throat, your heart throbbing furiously against your ribcage.
“Can…I get you anything else?”
“Fuck off.”
He shoves his way past you, shoulder nearly knocking you on your ass. Your throat runs dry as his words echo in your ears, his voice sending chills down your spine.
You know him, but from where? You know his voice, his looks—but why can’t you remember him?
You glance over your shoulder but he’s already gone, most likely heading towards the exit. Not like you’re gonna stop him.
Still, you can’t get your little encounter out of your mind, even as you try to busy yourself with your work. Not even ten minutes pass by before you grab another box of bandages and a bottle of rubbing alcohol, mumbling to your coworker, “Store use, I’ll claim it out when I get back,” all the while feigning injury as you cradle your wrist against your chest (where a small pack of cotton balls is pressed between your fingers).
The back of the store leads out to the dumpsters in the back alley. A prime spot for smoke breaks, despite smelling like absolute crap. Chalk marks and spray paint decorating the walls, trash bags spilling out of the dumpsters in the corner. You clutch the supplies to your chest, head swinging wildly in search of the stranger.
But there’s no one out there. He’s gone for good this time—and for some reason, you can’t explain the sudden ache in your chest.
You don’t know what makes you leave the bandages and alcohol in the corner of the alley, hidden by the shadow of the dumpsters. Or why there’s a pang in the pit of your stomach, as you remember how bright his blue eyes looked.
Here’s a tip for any aspiring writers out there: get comfortable with constantly going on the internet. Whether it’s looking for an obscure random fact about Victorian houses in the 1800s or learning just how long it takes to recover from a bullet wound in the shoulder, search engines like Google will become your best friend. It won’t always provide the most accurate information, but it’s a start to get the ball rolling.
But this particular search doesn’t stem from a story in your drafts; all you can see are those mysterious blue eyes from the store, and the dark wrinkled patches beneath them.
It doesn’t take long at all to find your answer: a thread of articles and blurry photos of the infamous League of Villains—the same ones that have been terrorizing the country for the past year or so. Casualties, crimes, and even past victims. Every word brings another wave of goosebumps, but you can’t tear your eyes away.
Of course. That’s where you knew him from. Makes sense now.
There’s a handful of people in the photos, each one more terrifying than the last. A young girl with a feral smile, associated with a string of murders involving severe blood loss. A man capable of decaying anything with just a brush of his fingers. And the same stranger you saw in the store, known for over thirty murders and thousands in property damage, all thanks to those dangerous blue flames.
You slam the laptop shut and suppress a shiver. What were you thinking? Acting so casual with a villain—you knew you recognized those eyes somewhere—and oh my God, were you really going to try to meet him outside at the back?
And for what? Some bandages that he’d clearly already stolen? Hell, you’d let him walk away even when you knew he was planning on stealing them!
Hopefully your boss never finds out about that.
You glance out the window of your living room, pulling the lapels of your jacket closer to your chest. The door’s locked, the windows are latched, and the curtains are closed. Nothing out there but the trees and the moon and the gentle rainfall.
Calm down. Why would he come after you? You didn’t do anything to piss him off, did you? So what makes you think he’d try to figure out where you lived? What would he have to gain from that?
Still, you triple check the lock on the door, before moving backwards towards your bedroom. Also clicking the lock into place once you’re safe inside.
A villain. You can’t believe you came across an actual villain.
Villains were a common presence even back home, and you knew before moving abroad there was a possibility you could encounter some of them. But they always kept to the shadows, staying out of the spotlight for as long as they could. Only showing up in cities far away from your own. You’ve never come face to face with one of them, never been so fucking close to one of them before—
You crawl into bed and throw the covers over your head. Trying to focus on the pitter patter of the rain against the windows.
But you can’t get those images out of your mind. No matter how hard you squeeze your eyes shut, or bury your face into the pillow, you can still see his face. Those horrid wrinkled patches beneath his eyes. The same shade of blue as the flames from his palms. The way he looked at you as though you were nothing but a smear of dirt on the bottom of his boot.
He could’ve burned you right then and there.
You don’t fall asleep easily that night.
Despite your paranoia, the next few days go by without any issue. Work, errands, go back home. Your life continues just as it did before you met that crazy villain—and knowing that, you can breathe a little easier when you rest your head on your pillow for the night.
The little pile of medicine and supplies you’d left in the back alley had disappeared the next morning. Someone else had probably picked them up, who could say no to free medical supplies? There’s a slim chance that villain came back and took them for himself.
You know it’s a long shot. And yet there’s still some part of you that clings to it, wondering if he’s still sticking around this part of town.
Come on, what’s wrong with you? Are you really that eager to put your life in danger like that?
The rational part of your brain says no. But there’s another part, a much more vocal part of your brain, that can’t stop thinking about your little encounter. And what you would’ve done if he’d been in that alley that night.
Probably cry your eyes out. Then get killed like the dumbass you are.
Still, no matter what you do or what you try to focus on instead, he keeps coming back to your mind. And you find yourself visiting those damn websites, those stupid forums night after night when you get home from work, speculating just who he might be beneath those painful scars and bright blue flames.
What kind of life did he lead before joining the League? Does he have any regrets about becoming a villain? Does he actually enjoy being on the run like this?
It’s only when you’re lying wide awake in bed at close to two in the morning, still worn out from a long day at work that the more innocent questions start to plague your mind:
What’s his favorite color? Is it blue, or does he actually hate it? When is his birthday? Does he have any friends, either before he became a villain, or anyone in the League? You wonder, what’s his real name?
“Why am I even thinking about this? Not like I’m ever gonna see him again…” And you should be grateful for that.
But there’s still an ache in your chest, an awkward swirl in your stomach, every time you remind yourself of that simple little fact. And you don’t really know what to make of it.
Another hour passes before you push yourself out of bed and right to your desk in the corner. Grabbing one of the little notebooks you’d bought for story notes and ideas, but haven’t really touched in the last few months. Sliding into the seat with a sigh and clicking open one of the many black pens from the drawer at your side. Flicking on the small desk lamp and squinting against the sudden brightness.
It’s not uncommon for the inspiration to hit at ungodly hours of the morning. Honestly, you do your best writing between midnight and six a.m.; the only drawback is being unable to stay awake at work the next day. But at least you have some damn good writing to show for it.
But that hasn’t happened for months now. Not since you moved and started working nights. Now you have to hit the hay almost as soon as you come home, if you want any chance of a normal sleep schedule.
The pen moves on its own. Every breath brings another word on the page. Ink starts to smudge the side of your hand.
They appear in front of you: all the questions circling around in your mind, begging to be answered. The honest, the childish, even questions you think of on the spot. Anything and everything you would ask him if you were ever given the chance.
What are you doing? You should be in bed trying to sleep. Not doing…whatever this is.
You swallow hard as a single word appears before you: Dabi.
And immediately you start to shiver, your cheeks growing warm beneath the scathing looks of the ink and pages.
You’ve always had a strange complex when it comes to writing out people’s names. They’re much easier to speak out in your mind, or even say verbally. But once you write them out, it becomes almost final. It’s different to actually see those letters right in front of you, rather than just imagining them in your mind. Guess it makes everything seem so much more real that way.
It’s stupid, so fucking stupid.
But you don’t stop, even when your hand begins to cramp. Because this is the first time in almost half a year that you’re actually letting your pen guide you. The first time you truly feel at ease, not even caring about what you’ve written, or even stopping yourself to edit it.
What’s it called, word vomit? It’s therapeutic, but incredibly hard to do sometimes.
It’s not until the sun rises a couple hours later, and you’re half-asleep at your desk. Your arms curled beneath your head, the muscles in your hand throbbing like crazy. But then you see all those words you’ve written, all that ink staining those pristine white pages…
And you can’t help but smile as you drift off to sleep.
The air is stale with the scent of smoke and ash. The city always smells like shit, but it’s usually better on the outskirts. But the burning pile of flesh at the end of the alley begs to differ, and his hands still ache as blue flames lick at his palms.
Another shitty night coming to an end, thank fuck.
Dabi’s been in this damn city for the better part of two weeks now, boss’s orders unfortunately. Scouting for any possible members, new blood they could add to their ranks. But every group is the same; they’re either loud-mouthed fucks with more muscle in their arms than their own damn heads, or they’re practically children, fresh out of school and all set on playing hero. Still thinking this is a fucking game, and that they can stand to take the League out from the inside.
He’s already had one guy try it a couple months back, but he knew better than to go through with it. Can’t say the same for the rest of the dumbasses burning in the alley, though.
Oh, well. No doubt the heroes will find them tomorrow, if they even bother showing up. Not many of them like to venture all the way out here, especially if it means real danger.
He slides a pack of cigs out from his pocket, choosing one and lighting it with the tip of his finger. He’s walked these roads too many times in the last few nights, practically knows them inside and out. And it’s not long before that silly little department store comes into view—the same one that oh-so-generously let him borrow some of their stock last week.
Didn’t even need to use his quirk to make it happen, either.
The double doors slide open, the blaring lights a stark contrast to the shadows of the streets. He barely has time to step back before someone steps out, waving their hand behind them with a smile on their face.
Oh, the same one from that night. He can’t help but smirk at the memory.
It’s a girl—and if her face and height are anything to go by, he’s starting to wonder if she’s even old enough to work at a place like this. Apparently her brain must be impressively small too, with the way she’s walking down the darkened street without a care in the world. One hand fastened on the strap of her purse and the other dangling down at her side, a dark lanyard wrapped around her wrist. She must have a shit-ton of keyrings on them, judging by how hard she swings it back and forth. As if that’s going to protect her if someone tries to jump her.
Fucking dipshit.
He rolls his eyes and takes another long drag of his cigarette. Watching the stupid kid out of the corner of his eye—and nearly dropping the cig altogether when he watches her veer off the sidewalk and head straight for the forest.
What the fuck is she doing? Does she want to get herself killed?
Maybe it’s sheer curiosity—or maybe it’s hoping something out there will pick her off so she’ll learn her lesson—whatever it is, it has his feet moving on their own. Picking up the pace to keep her within his sights, the cigarette barely hanging from his mouth.
Didn’t anyone teach her not to go walking around this late at night? For fuck’s sake it’s nearly one in the morning, does her shift really last that long? What compelled her to take a walk in the goddamn forest of all places? No way she lives all the way out here, she’s probably got a place somewhere in the city. Probably just looking for a cheap thrill so late at night.
Stop it. She’s not your problem to worry about, so quit it already. Just sit back and watch the show.
He follows her down the old trodden path, waiting for her to hit a stray root or trip over a rock and fall flat on her face. But nothing happens, other than a few scuffs of dirt on her ratty old sneakers. Almost like she knows these woods—like the back of her hand.
It’s a struggle to keep his footsteps soft. His boots do nothing to quell the sound of leaves crunching, dirt spraying across the path. Luckily she doesn’t hear, either that or she just doesn’t care.
Where the hell is she heading at this hour?
His answer appears in the form of a house. A pretty shitty-looking one, if he’s being completely honest. Shabby roof, flimsy door, moss creeping over each and every corner. Almost like no one’s bothered to visit the place in the last decade or so—at least.
The girl steps right up to the door, swinging that stupid lanyard at her side. Shuffling around until she finds the right key, before disappearing into the house altogether. A light flickers on in the window, her shadow visible behind the aging curtains.
Fuck him, she does live here.
In the middle of nowhere, secluded from the rest of the world. She’s stupid, isolating herself from all those people in town. Help’s not gonna come if you’re stuck in some random forest, she’s probably better off in the heart of the city. Then again, it must be nice for her. Being able to wake up in the morning without the blaring of sirens in your ears. Tucked away where no one can find you, safe and sound in the comfort of your own quiet home.
He almost envies her. Almost.
The longer he stares at the little mossy house, watching her shadow flit back and forth behind the curtain, the more he starts to wonder what she has inside. Must be stocked on food and medicine; that shit’s hard to come by these days. Might be worth a peek once she’s gone. She’ll probably leave tomorrow night for her shift, right? He’ll slip in then, see if she’s got anything worth his time. Better this random cottage than an apartment in the city, right? From what he can tell there’s not a soul in sight, save for the looming trees and starry sky.
He’s smirking now, slipping back into the shadows of the forest, right beside the old trodden path. She never even sees him.
The house is dark and empty by sundown. The path is easier to walk in the daylight, but he still waits until nightfall before scoping out the house. Just in case she getany bright ideas and decides to return home sooner than she should.
It’s a two-story house, and while the front door’s latched shut, the windows sure aren’t. It slides open with a squeak, like it hasn’t been touched in years. Looks like the kitchen—or a sorry excuse for one, if he’s being honest. A small table with only two chairs, neither of them looking like they’re from the same set. Papers and books and pens litter the surface, with the napkin holder knocked down on its side.
Not that they have a better one back at the base. Hell, they’re lucky enough if they’re able to sit down for most of their meals, if they can get their hands on any.
Which reminds him of his mission, and he’s scanning the room for any possible food. And there, to his left: a crowded counter stacked with boxes of cookies and candy, below a pair of cupboards with even more food stored inside.
Jackpot.
The League’s not picky when it comes to food, anything will do when your stomach’s keeping you up at night. Well, Dabi can’t say the same for himself—he fucking hates fish. He’d much rather deal with an empty stomach rather than scarf down a few meager bites of sushi. Just the thought of it makes him want to puke.
He can’t take too much the first night, that’ll only make her wonder. It’s best to have as little people in this secluded house as possible. So for now he stuffs his pockets with small snacks for the guys back at base…and maybe even a few candy bars for Toga. Last thing that little psycho needs is more sugar in her system, but he’d rather not hear her whine that he didn’t get anything for her when he gets back.
Plus, this girl doesn’t seem to have any pomegranates around (or any fruit or vegetables, for that matter), so candy will have to do.
When both pockets are jammed with food, he takes a step back to survey the rest of the house. At least the inside looks marginally better than the outside, save for the abhorrent dining room. Simple and sweet, even if it’s a little bland in color.
A gray couch with a couple of pillows in bright colorful pillowcases. A side table with one too many remotes on it, along with a paperback that’s definitely seen better days. A kitchen isle with a sink cluttered with dirty dishes, and a single stool resting beneath the opposite end. Not a single house plant in sight, but plenty of photos throughout, some on the wall but most taped on the fridge. Must be friends and family—but so far, he can only see one person living in this house.
How sad, she must be so lonely without anyone else here…
He rolls his eyes and trods up the creaky set of stairs. Might as well take a peek at the rest of the house, right?
The hallways split up into three major bedrooms. One is filled with storage totes and moving boxes, still waiting to be unpacked (though, by the layer of dust on each of them, he’s not thinking any time soon). The other bedroom is filled, and he means filled, with books. Every square inch is either vacated with an old aging shelf or a stack of hardcovers on the floor. It’s messy and cluttered and he slams the door shut as soon as he opens it.
Lives like a fucking slob, doesn’t she?
The final bedroom turns out to be the biggest one of all, and it’s the only one in the house that actually lives up to its name. A dresser, a desk, and surprise, surprise, another fucking bookcase. There’s also a bed with a thousand plushies on the covers, each one more ridiculous than the last. A giraffe, a raccoon, and whatever the fuck that is. Some weird fuzzy brown creature with a large snout and a bitchy expression on its face. Toga probably knows the name of it, but Dabi couldn’t care less.
There’s also a set of double doors that leads out to a little terrace. It looks better than the rest of the house—must be a newer addition—overlooking the forest beyond. Overall it’s a cute little spot to live in.
And still no sign of anyone else living here with her.
He’s smirking now, thinking of all the things he can sneak out of here in the next few nights—when something else catches his eye. A strange outline under the blanket of the bed, in the center of all the damn toys staring back at him.
He has half a mind to burn the little giraffe to a crisp as he reaches in for the mysterious object. And it’s…a book. Fucking shocker.
No, wait—it’s a journal. Only a few pages filled in so far, the ink messy against the bright white pages. It’s the size of his palm, with a black leather cover and a matching black string attached to the spine, probably to act as a bookmark. And sure enough it’s stuck in a certain spot in the book, the entry dated to just a few nights ago.
I want to see him again. I know that sounds wrong, but it’s the truth. I can’t really explain it, no matter how hard I try. Everything that comes out just sounds wrong…but in my head it makes perfect sense.
I know I’m probably screwed in the head for thinking this. For thinking about him like this. Like I could be the one to change him, to be the only one he wouldn’t kill on sight.
No, wait a minute. I was, wasn’t I? We saw each other that night at the store, and he didn’t even try to hurt me.
He can feel his brow inching further up with every word he reads. What the fuck is she talking about? He flips to another random page—
And the answer’s staring him right in the face, in stark black ink.
Dabi
Dabi
Dabi
Dabi
I want to see him again. Ask him so many questions, the same ones that keep rattling away in my head. Why did you become a villain? Where did you come from? What is your favorite color?
Please, just one more time. We don’t even have to talk to each other. I just wanna see him with my own two eyes. Now that I know he’s real, that he’s the villain everyone’s afraid of. And I know I should be too, and I am…but I think I’m more curious of him. Maybe that just makes me stupid.
Yeah, I’m just stupid.
The words are swimming on the pages, blurring together, screaming in his head so loud he wonders if he’s read them out loud. But no, it’s dead silent in this room, in this house. Just him and this little black book, written in the hand of that little weirdo. The same one that chooses to live in a creepy old house in the middle of the forest, the one that works at a sketchy department store well into the night. The same one that didn’t scream once she saw him—but instead offered to let him go, even when she knew he was stealing.
And for some reason, he can’t hold back the smirk that stretches across his face.
Of all the people in this city, in this whole damn country, he thinks he’s found the one that intrigues him the most.
Poor girl, doesn’t even know what she’s caused. Just mindlessly writing her thoughts down in her diary, hoping no one will ever read what she’s written.
As carefully as he can, he tucks the book back in its place under the covers. As tempting as it is to take it with him, he knows that’ll only cause more suspicion. Still, he wants to leave her a love letter of his own—something that lets her know she’s not alone in her fascination.
So he does.
And a few minutes later he’s climbing out the kitchen window and making the trek through the forest, pockets full with snacks and a shit-eating grin on his face.
You hate Saturday nights. Arguably the busiest night of the week, and yet you’re still so short-staffed the cashiers end up taking the full brunt of the work. Ringing register, sorting supplies, stocking shelves—oh wait, we need you back up front to do register. Wait why aren’t you working on that cart I told you to finish? Excuse me, can you unlock this item for me? Can you help me check out, and only me, these lines are too long for my liking. Why can’t you be in two places at once?
Not that you ever find it fun to come to work…but Saturday nights just make it a little less fun. And once it calms down and the store closes up, you have to make the journey back home half-asleep. It’s a miracle you haven’t woken up in the middle of the forest yet.
Tonight is one of those nights, where you stumble your way back home like you’ve just had one hell of a night at the bar. But no amount of rubbing your eyes or chugging the bottle of soda in your hands will keep you upright. Eventually you see your little house in the distance, and your chest starts to feel a little lighter at the promise of sleep.
You fumble with the keys twice before managing to unlock the door. Latching it shut behind you, you don’t even turn on any lights before heading straight to your room. The dishes and laundry can wait till tomorrow. Right now, all you need is some fucking sleep.
The trio of stuffed animals on your bed greet you when you step into the room. Before coming to live here, your mother insisted you bring along some childhood stuffies with you, just so you wouldn’t get too lonely. And you hate to say it, but she was absolutely right. More often than not do you find yourself cuddling up to them, wondering about your family back home.
You kick off your shoes and drape your jacket over the back of the desk chair. Then you flop face first onto the bed, not even bothering to change into pajamas. You know you’ll be out cold within five minutes, so what’s the point?
“Goodnight, Rascal,” you mumble to the little raccoon, “goodnight, A.J.,” you pet the little giraffe, “and goodnight, Maxwell.” The little capybara toy is your favorite, but you’ll never admit it out loud. (Not when the other two can hear you.)
You roll over onto the bed, but something sharp juts into your side. You groan and force your hand beneath the covers to yank it out—oh, that’s right… you forgot you’d left your little notebook in bed with you. Must’ve fallen asleep while writing in it last night.
But there’s something sticking out of it, something that prevents it from closing all the way. You open it up and a scrap of paper falls out; not a loose page from the book, but a folded-up index card. One that’s got a note of its own written messily on the side.
One that makes the exhaustion all but vanish from your body.
You should keep this book in a safer hiding spot. You never know who might be reading all your little love notes, doll.
#dabi x reader#dabi x you#dabi x y/n#touya todoroki x reader#touya todoroki x you#kerosene and butterflies#tw: stalking#restricted fics
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From Best Friends To Lovers
Garreth Weasley x Reader
I’m also taking requests for Sebastian and Garreth so I can get more into writing. So feel free to send me some requests :)
Based on this request: Flirty Garreth trying to get the MC’s attention and him hinting that he likes them. But MC thinks that it’s just his dorky self. Because he’s just clumsy! He even went as far as mentioning Amortentia, hoping it would perk up their attention. Garreth and MC are best friends, but he always tries to hide away to cover his blushing face whenever he tries to flirt, or there’s any kind of physical affection. Until he finally gets what he has been trying so hard to do. And things get a little heated.
Warnings: Fluff and Smut. Characters are aged up.
Thank you for requesting this! I absolutely love Garreth! Your message made me super happy and I’m glad you enjoyed my last one. I’m still super nervous I’m not very good. But I really appreciate your message, I tried my best, and it may have gone in a bit of a different direction. I also hope you are doing well 🥹
Also @thedarkjotun I can finally tag you 🥰 I’ll tag you in any others I do!
You were sat in the library, head buried in between a book you had been studying for hours. Garreth had told you about a new potion he wanted to try, he wouldn’t tell you exactly what it was, but he needed your help with the ingredients.
Of course, he himself had accompanied you. He was always by your side. You two were always seen together, always paired up in the classes you shared, always sat near each other in the Great Hall. As you were both in the same house, he would always walk with you back to the dorm. He would leave you little notes, telling you what he has found, if he found something you like, or something new he wanted you both to try.
Over the past years of your time at Hogwarts, you and Garreth had become relatively close to one another. You would consider him as your best friend. You piqued his interest from the moment you shared the same level of excitement in potions as him. He had started to develop feelings for you, and quickly became attached to you. You were kind, funny, smart and beautiful.
Garreth was sat beside you, finding any way he possibly can to entertain himself whilst you were trying to find out more about the type of ingredients he needed for this mysterious concoction. Throwing you little notes, poking at you, making stupid flirtatious jokes was his way of trying to express his true feelings towards you. But in your mind, this was just Garreth being the dork he is.
“Are you sure you’re not tired?… Because you’ve been running through my mind all day.” He was terrible at this. It landed him a smack across the head with the book you were currently reading.
“Garreth, tell me why you would need Castor Oil and Gurdyroot? From what I’ve read about them, they’re used for love potions and stamina? Mind telling me the thought behind this?” You asked, eyebrows furrowed, as you were curious as to why he would possibly need them. There was also another ingredient, but that one you couldn’t find. Little did you know, it was a simple craving ingredient. Which would have the drinker taste of what they craved the most.
“Ah, can’t be telling you all my secrets now can I, Y/N? Garreth replied, a small smirk forming on his face, sending you a wink.
He had been trying for months, perhaps longer, trying to get your attention with things. Whether it was just simply getting your favourite sweets from Honeydukes. Giving you his robes if you were caught out in the rain. But you never took it as anything other than friendship.
It was getting late, the two of you had been in the library for what seemed like hours. There was a now comfortable silence between the two of you, you could feel your eyes getting heavier by the minute. Garreth took notice of this, he took the book from your hand, his hand ever so slightly brushing against yours. He quickly turned away to put the books back, trying his best to hide the embarrassment. His face turning as red as a tomato from the feel of your skin on his.
Garreth couldn’t sleep that night. He was wide awake, staring at the ceiling, thinking of you, thinking of your smile, your laugh, how beautiful you were. The man was in love, and you still hadn’t noticed. He has never felt this feeling before. Never been in love. Never been with someone. Before you came, he was alone. Yes he was popular, but more in a way where, he was only needed for laughs. You made him feel like he was wanted. He enjoyed your company, he loved how you had taken an interest in what he likes doing. He had to do something, anything that would indicate that he liked you.
The two of you made your way to the Great Hall for breakfast, he knew what you loved to eat, so he quickly filled your own plate up before his. A small smile forming on your face, it made his heart melt. He went to pour you some orange juice, but the thoughts in his head made him lose concentration on what he was doing-
“Garreth!” You spurted out, breaking out into a laughter that filled his ears and turned his attention to you and what he had done.
He had poured it all over you, your blouse was soaked and turning see through, your legs were left feeling sticky. The shock forming on his face, eyes wide open, realising what he has done, “Y/N, I am so sorry!”
Garreth was always, and had always been clumsy. He was always messing something up, blowing up his experimental potions, spilling stuff everywhere, setting off some kind of explosion. He always made a fool of himself, but you were never angry at him like most other students.
He noticed how see through your blouse was getting, and noticed you had nothing else to wear over it. He quickly removed his sweater and handed it to you. All whilst being careful and trying to hide the growth that was starting to appear in his pants.
He couldn’t help but stare at you wearing his clothes. You looked so cute, so perfect. A grin moulding onto his face, he quietly whispered in your ear, “It looks good on you.”
You returned the smile, “You’re just saying that” you gently gave him a slap on the arm, not understanding that he was generally complimenting you.
“No, you really do look good in my things.” He replied, taking your hand in his, he had to quickly turn away. The red-headed’s face was beginning to tinge that familiar rose colour he had become so accustomed to. Garreth felt like his heart was going to explode, was he really holding your hand under the table? Are you finally starting to take his hints?
You both had a free period, and what better way to spend it then brewing up some kind of potions, which you had no idea what they were, or what would happen. Of course, it was Garreth’s idea. You had shown him your Room Of Requirement back at the end of fifth year, so you two always had privacy. It was a haven for him, so many potion tables plotted about.
An explosion had begun to erupt, sparks flying everywhere around the room, foam and froth started pouring out of the cauldron, uncontrollably. You both had no idea what to do, but just stared at each other. Then all of a sudden, you were both covered in whatever was just in that pot. Smelling of ginger and oranges. You both just broke down in a complete fit of laughter.
“Well…. That went well.” You spoke up, completely baffled by what just happened.
“It went better than I expected!” He replied back.
“What was it you were expecting?”
“A fire, that’s what usually happens.” His reply made you giggle.
He always felt a sense of happiness knowing that he was the one to hear you giggle and laugh. It made his heart beat faster, and without thinking, he started to wipe you down, free of all the foam and froth that had covered you.
Garreth had always been a big flirt with you, but to his end, it never seemed to work. Was he just not very good at it? He was always complimenting you, at one point he straight up told you how beautiful you looked one night.
You couldn’t sleep, so you walked down into the common room, your hair dangling down, night robe on. You made your way to the fireplace to keep warm, and opted for reading a love story you had found. Garreth was also awake, quietly sat in another corner of the room, reading about Amortenia. He looked up and gazed at you, watching you silently, admiring how you looked. But you didn’t acknowledge he was there. Until he accidentally made a noise. He froze in place, you were staring straight at him, slightly embarrassed that he saw you like this.
“Oh! Garreth! I-I didn’t know you were there, what are you doing?” You said, trying to cover yourself up, as your nightrobe was a bit revealing and short.
He didn’t know what to say. He was taken back, he just glared right through you. Never taking his eyes off you.
You shifted in your seat, trying to look away and avoid this intense situation. “Garreth-“
“You look beautiful.” Is all he could say. His gaze was soon cut off by a pillow flying into his face. Now he had a reason to hide behind it. What did he just do? Had he ruined anything you had by telling you that? Why did he feel so shy whenever he made any kind of flirtatious interaction with you?
You made your way over to him, leaning over to see what he was reading.
“A love potion? Garreth! I didn’t take you as a romantic person.”
“I can be, with the right person.” He sent you a playful wink, then hiding back behind his book as a blush was appearing over his face, his ears beginning to heat up.
“I was wondering about it actually, to satisfy your curiosity, little miss nosey.” He peaked up, shoving a finger into your cheek.
You scooted your way next to him, resting your head on his shoulder, his body radiating heat onto you.
“What’s got you wondering about it? I heard it creates an obsession with whoever drinks it, and that each smell is different to what attracts you.”
“Correct.” He shyly responded, “It made me curious as to what I would smell, would it be what I really desired and desperately want?”
His face was mere inches away from yours, and you could feel his eyes melting into yours.
You both felt nervous, but in your mind, that was normal for Garreth. He was just playful. But to Garreth, it was more than the friendship you had cherished. All he wanted to do was lean into you, pull you close to him, feel your lips on his. But every time, he would shy away. Him being the idiot he was, instead of just telling you how he felt, he just pulled out the worst thing he could think of. “This might be cheesy, but you’re grate.”
He instantly recoiled, feeling ridiculous. But to his surprise, you let out a laugh, hitting him with another pillow to the face. “You’re absurd Garreth” your hands suddenly touching his face. You could feel his face heating up from your touch. He began leaning in to your touch, eyes closed. You moved your hands to his sides, he was extremely ticklish. You had him rolling around on the couch, and the pair of you fell to the floor, breaking out in laugher.
A moment of silence passed, and he was quick to see the position you were in. Lying trapped under his grip, his hands around your wrists. His face turned as red as his hair.
“Oh! Y/N, I am so sorry!!” He rushed to get himself up off you, not wanting to cause anymore embarrassment. He held his hand out for you to grab and get back on your feet.
You took his hand in yours, it was sweaty to grip, which suddenly made you topple back to the ground. But before your body could hit the cold floor, his hands were around your waist, and he pulled you back to your feet.
You tugged him into an embrace. Throwing your hands around his neck, his hands pulling you closer to him. He rested his head on your shoulder, letting out a sign. I guess this was the closest he would get to you.
You freed yourself from him and his grip, planting a kiss to his cheek, “Goodnight, Garreth Weasley.” You said to him, with a slight flirt to your tone.
His thoughts on that night were interrupted by the feel of bubbles being thrown into his face. He had completely forgot that he was currently with you, brewing failed potions. Now was his time, he wanted to kiss you.
You were so close to him in this moment. He took his chance. He grabbed your face, planted his lips on yours, but he swiftly pulled away. “That was stupid of me, I don’t know why I did that. We’re friends. I shouldn’t of assu-“
He was immediately cut off, by you throwing your arms around his neck, kissing him again, but only this time, deeper, more intense. He pulled you closer to him, holding you tight. Slipping one of his hands through your hair, one kept on your waist. He had waited years for this, he never wanted to let you go. He began to push his tongue into your mouth, your own licking around his, sending twisting motions as you both flicked around each other’s mouth.
You gently pulled back and broke his kiss. He was a worried mess. Did he push you away? We’re you going to tell him how wrong it felt?
You felt a tingly sensation roaming through you. You never realised before just how attractive he really was. His curly ginger locks, falling over his face. His green emerald eyes, you now found them stunning. It all came to you. All those times he had given you his clothes and let you keep them for the night. You remembered how they would always smell of him, and how you always kept them close to you. He had feelings for you. And only now, have you come to senses that everything he did, was to get your attention.
“Garreth, I never knew”
He let out a low laugh, “I thought I tried enough to show you, but obviously I wasn’t very good at showing it.” He sounded let down.
You took his hands in yours, intertwining your fingers with each other, and led him over to one of the couches you had conjured in the past. “Tell me everything. I want to know.”
He gently tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear. “You’re beautiful Y/N. I’ve waited so long for you to notice, and I would of carried on waiting however long it would of took. I have wanted this for so long.” His hand reaches for your face, cupping your cheek.
“So that’s why you were reading about Amortenia.” Sending a playful smile his way.
Garreth returning the playful exchange with a seductive wink, “I could of used it on you, made you as obsessed with me as I am with you.”
You sent a playful smack his way. Once again pulling his body to yours and crashing your lips on his. He desperately increased the kiss, hungrily moving against you. You pulling at his robes. He pushed you back against the couch, tossing his body over yours. This time, not afraid to hide how he feels. He kisses you again, with so much love, it was sweet and gentle. He was compassionate, he wanted this to be right. Not rushed. He wanted to take his time. Make sure it felt right.
He moved his lips to your neck, your hands gripping into his curls. He could feel himself getting hard, just the touch of you on him sent him wild. He went back and fourth from your lips, to your jaw, your neck. Each time you let out a small moan. Your hands moved from his hair, to the back of his neck, pulling his body closer to you, closing the gap between you. He completely melted at the touch of you.
His free hand gracefully starting to make its way over your body, shyly making its way under your blouse, caressing every part of you. Moans becoming gradually louder and more frequent from your mouth, straight into his ear. It overwhelmed him, he was sweating out in nerves.
Your bodies heavily pressed together, moving against one another in a rhythm, one of his legs pressed tight in between your thighs. Which meant you could grind your hips around him. Your free hand roamed and explored his body, feeling his tense chest through his clothes. Your hands lowered and lingered around the bulge of his pants. Slowly starting to stroke it, waiting for his response.
He sank his head into the crook of your neck, letting out moans from your touch right into your ear. Your hand carrying on, slowly stroking the base of him, trying to remove his belt. He swiftly lifted himself up, looking you directly in your eyes.
“I-I’ve never done this before..” He admitted, feeling embarrassed that this was his first time.
“Don’t worry Garreth. Me too. But I want you.” You whispered into his ear.
“I want you too sweetheart. I really do.”
And that was all he needed to hear. His nerves slowly fading away. Removing your clothes, then removing his own. He was left stunned, looking down at you, taking in the view left under him.
Both of you exploring each other bodies, hands roaming over places he had only dreamed of before. Feeling every inch of each other’s skin. He wanted more. It wasn’t enough. Both of you were screaming for more.
He placed himself between your legs, right at your entrance and gently pushed himself into you. A sweet moan escaping your mouth, a sign of pleasure that he seemed to enjoy.
He took his time, gradually and slowly inserting his full self into you.
Once fully in, Garreth breathed straight into your neck. He started to thrust more and more, it was sloppy and clumsy. But it didn’t matter, you both had never done this before. You wanted him to enjoy it, and it was a celestial feeling. Each hit sent you into a sensation you both had never felt before. It had you arching your back, breathing heavily.
He started to pound faster, more rough, quickening up his pace as you could feel a tension flowing throughout your body. A wave of pleasure and emotion rushing over both of your bodies. Both of you shaking with pleasure and excitement. Sweat pouring from his curly red hair, dripping onto your face. He pulled out, catching his breathe as he pulled you back into his arms. One hand running through your hair, the other rubbing circles onto your back. You rested your head on his chest, feeling how fast his heart was beating.
Garreth kissed your forehead, never wanting to let go of you. He finally had you. And things were about to change between the two of you.
#garreth weasley#garreth weasley x reader#garreth weasley x imagine#hogwarts legacy#hogwarts legacy imagine#hogwarts legacy x reader
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“From now on”
TASM! Peter Parker x reader
Tw: Angst, lots of angst, strained relationships, depictions of verbal abuse, depictions of bullying, depictions of depression and anxiety, character goes to therapy for once
It got to a point when I was writing this that it was actually hurting my heart and I had a whole debate wether I should change the ending or not.
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Peter was perfect, and you were an anomaly
———————————————————————
Meeting Peter was possibly the best thing that could have happened to you, but you would have never known that the first day you met him.
He was some ‘happy-go-lucky’ dork, into photography, Maybe not so much a dork, just not so popular.
You were within the ‘middle class’ of high school hierarchy, mainly because you were new, popped out of nowhere with weird clothes and weird slang, everyone just decided “yeah, I want them as my friend.”
Something happened around school one day and Peter seemed more confident in himself, and flash steered clear for once. It was nice to see him walk with a little kick in his step. That was until you realised his walk was leading him straight to you. Looking up to see his face, you confirmed it, his eyes set on you.
And he did walk over, and sit in the empty seat adjacent to you. So you talked, and talked and talked until there was no time left to say anything more ‘lest you want to be verbally abused by Doreen from the kitchen.
“Hey,” he started, staring into your eyes with a huge smile plastered on his cheeks, “let’s be friends from now on!” You nodded and he laughed, you soon followed, this continued until you were both caught in an endless fit of giggles whilst staring at each other. Only interrupted by the hoarse sound of Doreen clearing her throat.
Running away to avoid the onslaught of enraged squawks, neither of you could contain the breathy chortles wracking through your bodies.
Maybe, that was it. Maybe that was the moment you had fallen for him, just as you had into this world.
———————————————————————
You had become part of this world midway through his first year at high school. Dropping from the sky and straight into some poor man’s fruit stall.
You hadn’t known what had brought you here, nor could you remember why, but you remembered your world, your life, your school and so you began to seek it.
Everything was stranger in this world, older, dimmer and frankly a little askew. Learning to live was tough, tougher than it aught, but you made do.
Here was where you found shelter,
Here was he who made it a home.
———————————————————————
You both fell in love, once he had gotten over his puppy adoration for Gwen.
The world was beautiful. He made the northern lights the dimmest thing in your world. You loved each other.
There was never a moment where you could bare to be apart from one another, and so as you aged, you found ways to live as one.
A beautiful apartment, not far from what you hoped to be your dream home. The rolling fields visible from the back windows, the city life in the front now blocked by thick curtains. You found work at home, and had learnt of his heroic endeavours long before your moving in together, and trust that you had soon learnt the knack of sewing.
But something changed, he went out for a swing to clear his head and never returned home. Time stopped, literally stopped.
The world was at a standstill, the world revolved around him and he seemed, now, to be no longer in it.
It seemed to last for weeks, separation anxiety kicking in at full force and worst of all? No one to talk to, a world gone silent. In reality, it was a few hours or at most a day, but he returned back a changed man.
You received a single text, from a number that didn’t seem to exist, a short answer to what had happened, and an “I’m sorry.”
Peter had known you weren’t of this world, he knew whatever this supposed ‘wizard’ was going to do would affect you. But in reality, it seemed to have some opposite affect.
He forgot you.
———————————————————————
Something within him knew you, knew of a life with you, but it was all so fuzzy.
He remembered his time in another world, and his missing of someone, a physical pain from their absence. That feeling always quelled some now though, whenever he was around you.
He thought that maybe it was that you were just his roommate, from the story that you had told him. Although he knew something was wrong, you should have forgotten him, you should have forgotten the existence of Peter Parker, why were you so special?
His return home saw you in a frantic rush to remove personal objects from what he could only assume to be the bedrooms.
After that, tensions were high.
He hated that.
It seemed like for days you couldn’t bare to look at him, but he’d always sneak a glance at you and see you staring longingly at him.
Why were you so confusing?
He thought, he thought long and hard, but the longer and harder he thought, the louder his head got. It hurt to try and remember you.
So instead of remembering his past life, he decided to create some new memories.
Over breakfast one day he confronted you. “I think that whoever we were to each other before must have been very important, so let’s be friends from now on!” He stated as he gave a smile.
You smiled back, and his heart erupted. But then started to cry, long drawn sobs and you ran, faster than he could grab your wrist.
His heart hurt to see you sad.
Everything about him seemed to have a painful longing when around you.
So he decided to distance himself. It didn’t ease the pain, but he managed to rekindle with Gwen. For awhile, she filled that endless void.
They loved each other.
———————————————————————
In that time that Peter and Gwen ‘rekindled’, you shut yourself away. You became bitter before you became mellow.
Peter hated it, you were friends, so why couldn’t you just be happy for him? When you were sad it hurt him and so it but a damper on his love for Gwen. He hated it.
He hated you.
Seeing you were becoming a liability for him, you gave up. He did not need to remember you, and he seemed happier, lighter.
You tried to move on.
Gwen noticed it more than Peter. His immature puppy love was cute but it felt wrong and misled. She hadn’t known what had gone on between the two of you, last she knew you were deeply in love with some guy, but somehow you lived with Peter. Whatever had happened, someone had hurt you.
Gwen was all you had.
When you had begun the relationship with Peter, everyone else seemed irrelevant and so you hadn’t made any friends to confide in.
In the beginning, it was like everyone forgot you, including Peter. Then came Gwen, a blessing and a curse. She became your bestest friend and worst enemy all in one. But she never hurt you, not in the way that Peter had.
You had lost all hope, and so watched him become happier as the days went by, happier than he’d ever be with you.
Him and Gwen moved into your dream house together, just across the hills and visible from the apartments balcony.
Every morning you’d stare at the cottage, heart shattering. Until they took to eating breakfast on the porch, every single day, as though they were mocking you.
Now both sides of the house have thick, closed curtains on the windows. You needed to block out the world, so that’s what you did.
Isolated and paler, the world was caving in, walls crumbling. This is what he did to you.
So you began to get therapy, learnt to get over him. It hurt, it hurt badly. Every step of the way you’d have Gwen. She was ever-sweet and understanding, but you could never tell her what was truly happening, what you truly felt.
Visiting Gwen sometimes made your therapy feel redundant, because you’d see him there, typically doing some mundane task. Then, You’d fall for him all over again.
———————————————————————
He hated that being around you felt so good.
He didn’t understand why he still longed for your company even though he already had Gwen. It was just something about you. But it made him angry, and so he took it out on you.
Whenever Gwen would leave, tensions would be high. Peter had taken to starting petty fights or indirectly insulting you.
It hurt him. It really did, but at least it was a different type of pain, at least it wasn’t the deep rooted longing he kept under lock and key. He hated himself, but he kept doing it, desperately hoping you would understand what he was trying to tell you.
But you never did. In fact, it helped, and soon enough you had reduced that burning desire to him to nothing more than a soft dying ember.
———————————————————————
One day, he did remember.
By then it was too late.
That day you had decided to leave, leave the apartment you owned together, the memories you had made. You were going to make something of your life, something that didn’t involve him.
You had the plane tickets booked, the bags packed and your taxi arriving in 8 minutes.
You were going to leave this false life you had childishly hoped would come back and embrace you once again.
But it all came to late.
The apartment was the same as it was when you had lived together. But he could no longer feel the love radiating from the very bones of the place, it was cold and dusty.
He didn’t realise how dark it was until he turned to stare longingly at your dream house, the house he now lived in with another girl, a girl who’d never be you.
He had just had something click a week ago, and everything fell into place. He lashed out at Gwen and she had left. Everything was destroyed and it was all his fault.
He had found a letter on your desk. A last stitch effort from you to say goodbye, even though you were sure the Peter you now knew would rather burn it than read it.
He had barely got past the point in which you said that you were going to the airport, before he was already hopping in his car, praying to make it before you left him for good.
He has made too many mistakes in his life, he couldn’t tell if loosing you would break him or kill him entirely. The pain he felt right now alluded to the latter.
He found you and his heart expanded and burst all at once. You looked tired. So he thought, on all the times he remembered you coming to the house, all the times he hurt you. You were sick. You had been pale and gaunt and he had made it worse.
You looked better now, much better, but looked so tired, so desolate, he couldn’t bare it.
He came up to you and fell to his knees. Blabbering apologies you had wished to come months ago, apologies that would have bent your life back to him, if only they had came a day sooner.
You stopped him, and he looked up at you with helplessness in his eyes. But you couldn’t do it, you couldn’t put yourself through this again.
“I’m sorry, but let’s be friends from now on, actually no. Your friendship has made me up and broke me down. You were vile to me, all in the name of love and not understanding what you were doing. You deserve this and I don’t. So, Peter Parker, let’s be strangers from now on. Goodbye.”
It hurt, he had to prevent himself from balling on the floor and waiting for death to take him.
Heavy sobs wracked his body as he watched you walk away, not sparing a glance. If only to hide the pitiful tears that had escaped your own eyes.
Peter had always thought he was a whole person, at least, until he saw his other half walk away from him.
As he watched them walk away, he swore he heard a pledge of forgiveness to him, but so wrapped up in his grief, he knew it could only be a manifestation of you, somewhere in his head trying to keep him from drowning in his crippling loneliness.
He was disgusting to you, and if that’s who he was when he did not remember you, he didn’t deserve you at all.
#marvel#marvel angst#angst#spiderman#spiderman x reader#tasm!peter x reader#tasm!peter x y/n#tasm peter parker#tasm peter x reader#tasm peter angst#spiderman x reader angst#peter Parker x reader#peter Parker x reader angst
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Why I like my top 4 otps an updated summary:
1) Kanthony: I love it entirely for Comedic purposes if I'm being honest with you, Anthony pretends he's super serious in all the other books. In his book we learn he's a total dork. Infront of Kate he's an out of depth horny teenager that makes me giggle. And Kate is not too far behind in dumbassery, kanthony is that couple who was supposed to be a romantic drama and ended up as a comedy instead
Polin: THE DRAMA! *Cough* I mean, contrary to popular belief no, I don't like polin because of the friends to lovers trope. I love them because of the whole, 'character who always pretends to be nice is actually just one insult away from burning down the place' romance. Which is seriously something so compelling, the thin line of Chaotic romance that is Polin, Colin and Penelope's temper when they set each other off! Chef kiss! Angry kiss!! Hungry kiss!.
Philoise: I'm just a fan of found families. And I love romantic relationships where the female lead just owns the story, lays down the law and the male lead goes along with it without being any less of a Alpha male. It's just really cool ok (Actually Phillip is right up there with the not-afraid-of-a-dominant-heroine male leads in that I adore, like Peeta Mellark, Captain America, Felix from Wreck it Ralph... You get my point I have a type) Also, I really like the single dad x manic pixie dream girl thing that Philoise has going on. And I'm not afraid to admit it
Honorable mention:
4) Benophie: because Sophie exists and she deserves all the cuddles. No Seriously I ship Benophie because I love Sophie's character, she has gone trough literal hell with her step family, survived stuff that was pretty tough, and still remained hopeful and positive and true to her standards. she's been in love with Benedict since she first danced with him so I ship it. But only because it makes Sophie happy. Make no mistake I still think book Benedict is a blind dunderhead who's most redeeming quality is worshipping the ground Sophie walks on for the rest of his life. (As he should, because she's awesome) but if Sophie likes him, then I support them as a shipper. Although I will continue posting memes about Benedict needing glasses
And that's the tea
#lets be honest#kanthony#polin#philoise#Benophie#Anthony Bridgerton#Colin Bridgerton#Benedict Bridgerton#sir phillip crane
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ted lasso 3.07 thoughts
WHEN WILL TEDBECCA COME BACK FROM THE WAR
however, i found this episode immensely enjoyable, my tedbecca agenda aside. it was really charming and full of good and moving stuff!
i can in all honesty say i simply didn’t expect that from the red string. who among us could?????? (so happy that roy was so happy!) now i will always read that part of jane eyre just a little different.
sammmmmmmm!!!! sam’s dad!!!!!!!!!!! sam naming his restaurant after his dad!!!!!!!! sam and simi!!!!!!!!
you know my austen nerd brain was instantly like “JACK IS THE WILLOUGHBY AND ROY IS THE COLONEL BRANDON”. also, i love that keeley loves the book but loves the movie more, because honestly ……………… same.
i loved seeing nate in romcom mode, omggggggg!!!!!! such a joyful storyline. i’d like it if we could get to know jade more as a character – she’s such an enigma! – but i get that this show has like nine million characters already.
trent’s their dork! :)
i really wish rebecca had been involved in the team stuff this week. :( i just really missed her in that space, and would have liked to see her more involved and invested in the new coaching approach, etc. i miss her feeling like part of the team family. (i get that she started their singalong at the end of last episode, but you know what i mean!)
although, her explaining love bombing and doing that love bomb gesture was delightful.
i want a spinoff about barbara. she fascinates and enchants me. (sidenote: i’m picky about who could date beard but i think barbara has the exact right weird vibe.)
did anyone else go “ted was wearing a red t-shirt at the beginning of the episode and rebecca was wearing a red shirt at the end in the RED STRING EPISODE (never mind that the red string was tied to genitals)” or am i just that far gone mentally and emotionally?
with that being said, however: i don’t want to spend the entirety of the final season feeling like the show is a troll at a bridge and i must solve its riddles three to cross! i just want to watch the two characters whose relationship i love spend time together and enjoy each other’s company, damn it, and time is running out!!!!!! even if they don’t have a romantic thing going, i’d rather just watch them have a good time together and be friends!
i feel a lot like lorelai when she and luke break up in season five and she doesn’t want to miss her middle with luke. she doesn’t want to have just an ending with luke! i don’t want to have just an ending with tedbecca! WHERE’S OUR MIDDLE???? I WANT OUR MIDDLE! (we’re not getting our middle, are we.)
will getting way too into being beard, hahahahaha!
also, there was not enough higgins in this episode, but his one little scene was perfection. but also heartbreak. not his cuppa!
i feel like we don’t have enough time left this season to cover all the ground we need to cover, especially if it’s the last season! (i’m getting pretty worried about the pacing of a roy/keeley reunion, weary sigh.) i already feel like they need to decide to have a fourth season as well because this ain’t the final season as it’s meant to be. aghhhhhhhhh! STRESS!
next week sounds like it is gonna bring the DRAMAAAAAAAAA! the pure emotional sloppiness of the ted + michelle + dr. jacob situation really thrills me. BRING IT!
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I reread my own fic A Light That Never Goes Out last night and remembered that I actually have notes for it so here y’all go, I’m dumping them here! 🌈
Ch 1
okay so here we go, here’s me explaining the candle thing again
To the newer folks who might not know, when you meet Ephemera in khx (browser chi), he asks you to get a candle from the Moogle because the Moogle wouldn’t let him get one. You’re more successful than he is, and throughout the quests where you’re traveling in the sewers with him, you go ahead and clear out the Heartless while he holds the candle so the flame doesn’t go out. The sewers visibly look darker too, until you both reach the end
You can watch it here
Ch 2
It always bugged me that the union leaders never got to fully grieve Ava or any of the other foretellers on screen. As far as they know, they perished in the war, they’re gone. So I wanted to let Ephemera have a moment to miss her, as one of her friends and someone who liked being around her
I also think that out of anything that happened during the war, it would’ve been really poignant if Player remembered their interaction with Ava. Of course, that’s part of their pain that was meant to be erased via union cross, but I imply that in this fic, Ephemera has gradually been helping them sift through the memories rather than completely suppressing them. Slowly re-exposing them to the memories so they don’t have a total breakdown.
As someone very close to Ephemera, it just feels more right and fair to him that Player gets these important memories back. It’s his sign of trust
Ch 3
It’s the shortest chapter, but still one I really like
It’s important to me that you know just how smitten Ephemera is with Player, and also how great of a friend Skuld is
She plays a wingman role in this fic, basically the one who encourages these two oblivious pining dorks to get together and helps when they need a third opinion
Ch 4
As I said in the notes, this is an expanded/updated version of an ask prompt which you can read here
The most important change to me was Ephemera asking to kiss them first rather than going in all gung ho. It feels more in character for him. Plus we love consent in this household!
Ch 5
I miss khux’s avatar boards…but not buying them!! 😜
The black and white tuxedo Player tries on was foreshadowing for Ephemera struggling to choose between a black and white tuxedo in ch 9
I also just really love Ephemera in red boots. It’s like…a Thing for me now. This will not be the last you hear of it
Now’s a good spot to mention that Ephemera’s absolutely relentless when it comes to being flirty. Not in the “whoa he‘s got rizz” way, but more in the “wow this guy’s a massive cheese ball” way. He’s been like this in my head since 2016 (I blame Kam. Love you Kam!!)
Ch 6
This was written with the intent of Player being somewhere on the ace/aro spectrum (one of the meanings for the chapter being called Purple is a reference to the colour purple on the ace flag). I didn’t really elaborate on it or even mention it because honestly, I’m not ace and I wasn’t sure if I was portraying it accurately enough for it to be a prominent point
What I wanted the focus to be on was simply that Ephemera would love them, no matter what they feel or don’t feel. This applies to chapter 10 too, where he’s very understanding of whatever their opinion on having kids is
Ch 7
The jokes about the barter system is actually from a bunch of skulmerayer mini prompts I tried to write but ultimately couldn’t figure out or even fit in anywhere else
Eph and Player should’ve been able to hang out in Candy Kingdom together like they did in Cy-Bug Sector…..I stand by this
They both have a severe case of the sillies, amplified when they’re around each other
Ch 8
I think Ephemera gets bad dreams too, especially after the war. He often dreams about how hurt Player got, or worse, not being able to save them at all. And now he has bad dreams of the canon universe, where he lost everything, including Player
But this is a different timeline, where the two of them, and Skuld, were all able to escape the data world and meet up with the other leaders again to plan their next move in a new world
Ch 9
In this alternate timeline, all the union leaders continue their work together in Scala ad Caelum at the main tower. Honestly, I didn’t really think of how this would happen, but just imagine some kind of override where they’re able to create a new world at the expense of losing Daybreak Town forever. That part sadly stays the same
Skuld tells Ephemera, “You’ll be alright on your own.” It’s a callback to what he told her before leaving her party.
I like listening to Chikai (orchestra), starting it right before Ephemera pulls out the wayfinder :)
LISTEN I just think gifting a wayfinder can also be a romantic gesture. The sokai fans get this. It can be a big romantic gesture in place of giving someone a ring. It’s cute and made by your partner’s own hands, doesn’t get in the way of gripping a keyblade properly, and always lets you find each other again no matter where your travels take you across the worlds. Its pretty! It’s unique! It’s cute!!!
Ch 10
This is a 10 year timeskip, they’re all in their mid to late 20s now
Ephemera and Player have settled down in Destiny Islands, but take trips to stay in Scala for a few months at a time to relieve the others of their leader duties (and later to teach at the academy). So essentially they live both in Scala’s tower, and in their own home on the islands throughout the year
I feel like in this universe, Blaine would settle down first. Him having a kid on the way ended up giving Ephemera a bit of baby fever, which can often be what happens amongst friends and family around the same age
I have a headcanon ingrained in my head that Eph was raised by two moms who owned a library, so he’s always been surrounded by books growing up
I intentionally kept it vague whether or not he and Player would conceive or adopt children mainly because of Player’s ambiguity and also cause I could easily see them doing a mix of both
(I also headcanon the two of them being a t4t couple so there’s a lot of ways the having kids conversation can be interpreted anyway :D)
but basically, they both end up being parents in canon, so why not make them be parents together? 😊
In conclusion: I love them your honor. Thank you for reading!!!
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Fake Boyfriend Part 2
I was going to put this up tonight, but I have my son's PTC tonight and I won't have time, so you get it early.
Part 1
***
Eddie did the bravest thing he had ever done in his life and took the remaining two steps forward closing the gap between them so close that he could feel Steve’s heat radiating off him in waves.
Steve gasped. “Look, Caleb,” he said in a hushed tone, “I’ve got to go, he’s here now, we had plans today.” And then Steve did the most unhinged thing he had ever seen someone do. He let go of the phone as the taut cord sprang back toward the cradle, the phone landing with a clatter on the counter.
Eddie let out a shuddering breath. “Did you mean that? Did you mean what–mean everything you said?” He let his backpack, notebook and pen fall to the floor.
“I meant it all, Eds,” Steve whispered. “All but that bit about being grateful to call you mine, because you aren’t.” His lips quivered as he let out shuddering breath of his own. He ducked his head.
Eddie cupped his face with his hands and gently lifted Steve’s face. They were now barely a hair’s breadth from each other. “You wanting to change that, sweetheart?”
Steve gasped and that was all the acknowledgment Eddie needed. He closed the distance and pressed their lips together at long last.
When they broke apart, Steve panted, trying to catch his breath and pressed their foreheads together. “I don’t want to hear you dissing on your intelligence again, you hear me?”
Eddie huffed out a laugh. “Why’s that, sweetheart?”
“Because you suggesting I that pretend you were my boyfriend,” Steve explained, “was the best idea you’ve ever had.”
Eddie turned his head to the side to laugh out loud. He turned back to Steve, a big smile on his face, “Alright, darlin’, you’ve got me there.”
Steve kissed him again and he let slip a delighted hum. This really was the best idea he’d ever had. He broke off the kiss with a frown.
“You okay, Eds?” Steve asked, confused.
Eddie tilted his head to the side. “Is that–is Caleb still on the line?”
Steve furrowed his brow and concentrated on sounds in the room. He reluctantly let go of Eddie and walked slowly toward the phone. And sure enough as he got close enough he could make out Caleb shouting for him to come back.
Steve sighed and hit the phone hook and held the button down for a moment or two. He released the button to hear the sweet, sweet sound of the dial tone.
He walked back to Eddie. “There, that should take care of the problem.”
Eddie looked around him to see the receiver was still on the counter top. He looked back at Steve. “Aren’t you going to hang up the phone?”
Steve shrugged. “And risk having that asshole call back? No thanks.”
Eddie rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “But what about other people trying to get a hold of you?”
“Anyone important enough will know to try the walkies next,” Steve said with a soft smile. “For everyone else, if they bring it up, I’ll just say that I was being harassed and that it was Caleb’s fault they couldn’t get through.”
Eddie laughed. “Yeah, all right. You got me there.” He leaned forward to kiss Steve again when the walkie on top of the fridge crackled to life.
“Steve?” Dustin’s voice came through, hesitant and unsure. “Are you there, over?”
Steve raised an eyebrow and Eddie huffed out a laugh. Steve picked up the walkie-talkie and said, “I’m here, over.”
Dustin’s sigh could be felt throughout the room. “It’s just your line has been busy for awhile and I may have panicked a little.” Steve could almost see him wave his arms as he added, “But only a little.”
There was a pause.
“I’m just glad you’re okay,” he said, “over.”
Steve’s expression softened. “Yeah, bud. I’m okay.”
Eddie raised an eyebrow. Steve mouthed back ‘Byers’.
“Oh.” Eddie had heard all about that part of the Vecna fiasco when he was laid up in bed in the hospital waiting for the government to come through with his release papers.
“Is that Eddie, over?” Dustin asked.
Eddie and Steve snickered.
“Yeah,” Steve replied. “It’s Thursday, it’s our day to hang out, remember?” Dustin didn’t answer so he heaved a sigh. “Over.”
“Today is Thursday?” Dustin asked mournfully. “I thought it was Wednesday. Shit.”
Steve waited for him to further explain, because it might take him a moment, Dustin would eventually would.
He didn’t have to wait long.
“There was this special one-time re-screening of ‘The Watcher in the Woods’,” Dustin continued, “that was going to be playing at the Hawk yesterday and I was going to ask you wanted to go with me. None of the other guys like horror movies anymore and I think you’d love it.” A beat and then, “Over.”
Eddie and Steve shared equally distraught expressions as Steve replied, “Yeah, Dusty, that does sound like it would have been fun. I’m sorry we missed it, over.”
“Yeah,” he said softly. “I’m sorry I bothered you guys for nothing.”
“No, bud, no,” Steve cooed. “You didn’t bother us at all.”
“How about this, Dusty buns,” Eddie teased, “why don’t you rent the movie from Family Video and bring it over tomorrow for the three of us to watch?”
“I’ll get treats and sodas, too,” Steve added.
“Really?” Dustin asked, sounding more cheerful. “You guys would really do that for me?”
“Hell yeah,” Eddie said, a great big goofy grin over taking his face. “It sounds cool.”
“Thanks, guys,” Dustin said. “I’ll see you tomorrow–”
“Before you go,” Steve said cutting him off, “could you pass along to the rest of the Party that my phone is off the hook because some asshole won’t leave me alone, over.”
“It’s Caleb, huh?” Dustin said with a sigh. “That jerk needs to stop harassing you, man. Over.”
“Right in one, kiddo,” Steve said. “I’m hoping by tying up the phone line means he gets the message and leaves me alone, over.”
“Roger that,” Dustin said. “Over and out!”
Steve shook his head and put the walkie on the counter.
Eddie pulled Steve back in close. “So...how much time do you think we actually have before we are invaded by feral teenagers?”
Steve laughed and wrapped his arms around his neck. “They are so much better at respecting other people’s boundaries these days, so... all day.”
Eddie hummed. “Would the return of the Byers happen to have anything to do with that sudden change?”
Steve rubbed their noses together. “I really don’t recommend telling the Wonder Twins that boundaries don’t matter or only selectively matter.”
Eddie snorted. The Wonder Twins was a really good nickname for Will and El after everything he’d seen them do.
“So what I’m hearing,” he murmured, pulling Steve flush against him, “is that we have the whole day to ourselves.”
“Yep,” Steve replied, licking his upper lip slowly.
Eddie licked the top row of his teeth thoughtfully. “I’ve got ideas of how we can fill that time, baby.”
“Me too.”
Eddie picked up his backpack and stuffed the pen and notebook back in it. He straightened up and grabbed Steve by the wrist.
“Starting with the reason I’m here!” he cackled. “Your D&D character!”
Steve let out a startled laugh. “What!”
Eddie threw his backpack on the sofa, but continued to pull Steve along. Steve looked at the bag in confusion as Eddie dragged him through the living room and into the hall.
At the base of the stairs, Eddie yanked on Steve pulling them together again. Steve yelped as they were suddenly face to face again.
“I was only joking, sweetheart,” Eddie murmured against Steve’s lips. “The things I want to do with you are far more fun and much sexier then D&D.”
Steve laughed. “Just don’t let the kids hear you say that.”
Eddie kissed him soundly. “They’ll learn when they get older.”
“So about these plans...” Steve asked, low and seductive.
Eddie ran his hands down his back to grasp those two perfect globes of ass. “Oh we are going to have a good time, baby.”
Steve chuckled. “I can’t wait.”
They ran up the stairs and slammed Steve’s bedroom door behind them. Thank god for Eddie’s brilliant and quick thinking, Steve thought as Eddie walked them toward the bed. Otherwise who knows how long they would have taken to get here.
Eddie, for his part never would have thought in his wildest dreams that by suggesting Steve pretend they were boyfriends that they would actually get here.
He loved it when his quick thinking turned out better than he planned. This time it netted him a boyfriend out of the deal.
And well... after that, they weren’t thinking of anything really.
***
Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @artiststarme @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @pyrohonk @a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @goodolefashionedloverboi @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv @rozzieroos @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @emly03 @bookworm0690 @bookbinderbitch @aol19 @littlewildflowerkitten @redfreckledwolf @itsall-taken @scheodingers-muppet @vecnuthy @mira-jadeamethyst @lololol-1234 @tinyplanet95 @beckkthewreck @missmagillicuddy @haelreadsshit @ellietheasexylibrarian @yikes-a-bee @finntheehumaneater
#my writing#stranger things#steddie#ladykailtiha writes#fake relationship#for all of ten minutes#because they dorks are that far gone for each other
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Dork Diaries 15 Thoughts
Alright so I read the latest dork diaries, and while it’s cute. I’m left with more questions than answers.
When I rereading the series last year, I wrote that I felt by the 10th book, Russell was dragging it out and had lost sense of its original charm. Or I lost my nostalgia. Either way, it is dragging on and this case was no exception.
There is a minor incident that Nikki overdramatically feels like it’s her fault when it really isn’t a big deal except for the requisite Mackenzie blackmail plot device. Which is never brought up again.
Nikki and her friends don’t actually go to the titular Paris until halfway through the book as Russell fills it up with other minor incidents and overdramatic airport chaos hysterics.
Paris is great except Mackenzie trying to steal Nikki’s place in the photo-shoot and Brandon-Andre-Nikki love triangle miscommunication. The former is annoying, the latter was predictable but not too bad. The best parts was Nikki’s mistranslation mishap, and she and Mackenzie getting lost in the catacombs. I do like how Russell managed to fit in info of major Parisian sights so kids can learn about how tres chic and amazing it is. I also liked the art style shift in some drawings as Nikki experiments with fashion illustration.
Now for my questions, and slight disappointments. I feel like the continuity is getting glossed over. Theo who was by far the nerdiest and dorkiest of the band originally (remember Nikki drew him as the human equivalent to Spongebob?), well now he has a glow-up and isn’t it basketball instead of wizarding. Okay, I guess people can change over the year but it feels so sudden in the art and the personality.
Also the Chloe, Zoey, Theo and Marcus pairings are completely gone. I guess they got over their crushes to each other even though them asking each other out to the Valentines Day dance was so sweet. But nope.
I just miss it, and them being librarian volunteers and Nikki's excitment over Tyra Banks or her advice column and other stuff that made this series feel grounded.
Also I'm just so tired of Mackenzie popping up as an obstacle like her trying to sabotoge Nikki to get a spot in the photoshoot. It makes no sense. Even if Nikki wasn't there, they would replace her with Mackenzie because she's NOT IN THE BAND. It's totally implausible. I know she's rich and gets away with stuff but it's becoming so unrealistic and annoying.
And remember the big secret of Brandon’s parents and his past? I remember it being brought up in books 4 & 5 and it was implied there was a reason that Brandon was so good at french relating to that. This would have been an excellent chance to have some of that mysterious past revealed but nope. Not a word. I actually wonder if Russell forgot about it?
In fact the whole Brandon and Nikki situation is the most drawn out ever and I’m starting to think that Russell is retconning it to the beginning. Nikki is still wondering if they’re friends or MORE than friends when after being kissed by him, going to the dance with him, his obvious jealousy of Andre, and going on actual dates, I think this position is quite clear. But Russell hits them squarely with the friends phrasing and minor interactions that make me feel she is holding them back. They’ve gone through such big moments and now it feels like they’re regressing, not progressing.
Know what else is regressing? Even though the whole series is about Nikki’s eighth grade year at school, and this book takes us to the end of Aug, there is absolutely no mention of high school. Unless NY schools work differently, 9th grade should be high school and then this series would be out of items reading demographic and thus an excellent time to finish the series.
But Nikki only says they’re returning to school, no pressure or worrying about big bad high school. Just school.
So is Russell retconning this too? In her a acknowledgements she says she's excited to introduce a new generation to Nikki's dork dairies so is she going to be an eternal eight grader?
Also Nikki in general has regressed and I feel she has learned nothing about appreciating what she has or freaking communication in general.
Yeah I think I have definately aged out of this since I'm so focused on these questions instead of enjoying it for what it is.
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Hi! I’m not sure if you’ve been asked this before but, what are your top 5 BL’s that you watched this year?
Hi Nonnie, I have NOT been asked this before! So Thank you!
It's going to be hard to pick JUST 5, but here we go:
5.) Big Dragon The Series
This makes it to my top 5 because I really found myself loving the series. The more I learned about it and got into it, the more I got excited for it and didn't want it to end. It IS a bit on the chaotic side story wise but it was surprising for me how much I enjoyed it. The complexities of these characters and their feelings for each other, just how DEEP they were, I am total sucker for it. I am so ready for season 2!
4.) Secret Crush on You
Of COURSE these lovable dorks are going to be in this list. This was one of the BEST series to come out this year. Honestly truly. NueaToh was absolutely incredible and so was SkyJao. I loved the entire story and the pace they took it. They showed 2 sides of a story that could've EASILY gone so wrong but the fact everything lined up the way it did just made me adore it even more.
3.) KinnPorsche
Of course KP has to be in the top 3. This series had me on the edge of my seat, ready for the next episode to air. It was complicated, romantic, funny and just overall so good. I loved the darker themes that were involved and it was so refreshing to see the characters being real and making mistakes and just doing HUMAN shit. The tumbl app was unbearable but I also think that's what makes this series so great. It started conversations and had EVERYONE tuning in.
2.1) Light On Me
One thing about me, I'm a SLUT for the cutesy shit. I mean seriously I had zero criticism for this series other than that it was too short. It was cute and sweet, and the 'conflict' was minimal. It was an easy watch and one of my comfort BLs for sure. I rewatch it all the time and I LOVE it every single time.
2.2) Semantic Error
Yes, yes there is a tie for number 2. But these two really are just SO FANTASTIC. Just like Light On Me this was such an easy watch for me. Cute as hell and the 'conflict' was also minimal. I rewatch this one constantly and it's just one of the BLs that I truly 100% enjoyed this year. I already LOVED Park Seoham, and this was just another reason to add to the list.
1.) Love In The Air
Let's pretend to be shocked. Of course my #1 series is LITA. I mean, it had EVERYTHING I could have wanted. And while I do feel that each story should've either had their own series or happened simultaneously, it's still a solid mf series. It gave us plot, it gave us emotion, it gave us sex, it gave us comedy.. I mean what more can we ask for?! To think I wasn't even going to watch it... that's crazy.
It takes a lot for me to dislike a series so this is just the ones that stood out to me the most, personally. I have loved every series I have finished so far, and them not being on this list doesn't take away that they're good too!
#top 5 bls of 2022#big dragon#big dragon the series#secret crush on you#secret crush on you the series#scoy#light on me#light on me the series#semantic error#semantic error the series#kinnporsche#kinnporsche the series#kp#kp the series#love in the air#love in the air the series#kwonzoshi
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do you have any rich!Derek fics?? Like he’s super rich and moves Stiles in for some reason and then Sterek happens?? Love this blog!!
Hi anon. @kevaaronday found these for you!
Thank You For This Dance by matildajones
(62,463 | 26/26 | Mature | Sterek)
Derek picks up another glass of champagne, and that’s when he sees him. A man stands at the edge of the room, chewing his lip and staring at the dance floor longingly.
Every person walks past him. Derek must have done it a hundred times this evening.
--
Derek is not one for dancing, but at a ball he meets Stiles, an orphan, and he becomes quickly attached. He does not care what other people think about Stiles' wealth and status, but it's a lot harder for Stiles to ignore the comments that have haunted him his whole life.
It's even harder to convince Stiles that Derek's feelings are genuine.
Rich Man, Poor Man by TyReed
(58,055 | 10/10 | Mature | Sterek)
During a first date gone horribly wrong, Stiles Stilinksi realizes that the snarky guy he's been asked out by is actually Derek Hale, an heir to Hale Industries, one of the most profitable companies in the entire world. Who is, for whatever reason, interested in the son of a teacher and a cop, a loser who spends all weekend watching movies in his pajamas, and who is also possibly one of the biggest dorks on the Internet.
At the same time, after screwing up their first date horribly, Derek Hale realizes that the funny guy he's asked out is Stiles Stilinksi, the warmest and kindest individual he's ever met in his life, with a family just a loving and caring. Who is, for whatever reason, interested in a guy who screws up everything he does, lacks any semblance of a backbone, and who is possibly one of the biggest history dorks in all of the United States.
These rich and poor men will come to experience a taste of each other's lives, and learn where the real blessings in the world can be found.
Can You Feel A Whole New Part of Your World? By isthatbloodonhisshirt
(53246 | 1/1 | Gen | Sterek)
“Can you hear me singing in the shower?” Stiles blurted out, because he had to know, now. If one of his neighbours had slid that note under his door, then it meant Parrish as another neighbour could hear him, too! He had to know if this was all a huge joke and one person had walked by and overheard him and decided to fuck with him.
Or if everyone could hear him and he now had to leave the country.
Parrish gave him a weird look at the question, but answered anyway, making Stiles’ plans to leave the country speed up in his mind.
“Of course I can. You’re actually not bad. Though you have been singing a lot of Frozen lately, getting kind of tired of the soundtrack.”
“Oh my God!” Stiles shouted in his face.
Looking For The Feeling Lost Inside by suchfun
(46,069 | 1/1 | Mature | Sterek)
"Am I wrong? Do you secretly love modelling? Because if you do then fucking A man, get your coin, but if you're—"
"I can't fucking do anything else!" Derek snarls, and fuck. The shock of it, of finally saying it out loud, startles him out of his beta shift and into silence.
Stiles squints at him. "You mean—" He drags his bottom teeth over his top lip, eyes darting between Derek's. "You mean that literally, don't you. You think you have nothing else to offer."
"I don't have a college degree. I don't have any real life experience or transferable skills," Derek says roughly. "I'm not—a peopleperson. Money and connections only get you so far. Most people don't— it's not worth it."
He knows Stiles hears what he's trying really hard not to say.Stiles
That he's not worth it.
Checks and Balances by AwaitTheMorrow
(13,539 | 1/1 | Teen | Sterek)
Stiles starts dating Derek after a chance encounter and can't believe how lucky he is.
Derek is smart, funny and genuinely the sweetest person Stiles has ever met. The guy is perfect.
...Maybe a little too perfect.
So When Do I Get To Pledge My Loyalty To The Mob? By RedRidingStiles
(10,089 | 1/1 | Mature | Sterek)
“Are you my sugar daddy?” Stiles blurts out, slapping a hand over his mouth when his brain catches up to his mouth. The man lets out a soft laugh, making his way around the couch till he’s standing just feet away from Stiles. Stiles can smell his cologne from here, it smells heavenly, Stiles kinda wants to bury his face into the guy's chest so he can figure out exactly what it is.
“If that’s what you’d like to call it.” The man smiles, Stiles doesn’t think he should be allowed to smile like that. All soft and gorgeous and way too pretty to be legal. He’s still not convinced any of this is real.
Stiles loses his wallet, someone returns it along with $5,000. Shit keeps coming, Stiles life doesn't make any sense anymore, he's just going with it.
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An AU where nobody died and a "triple date" AU where Eddie goes out with Chrissy, Billy with Heather, and Steve with Robin.
Eddie and Chrissy as an established straight couple; they've just gotten engaged and they naturally want to celebrate it among good friends.
Heather and Robin as a fresh lesbian couple who can't keep their eyes off each (insert here a flirty Heather and a blushy Robin).
Billy and Steve as a long-time gay couple who desperately try to hide their relationship even though their friends can see through them, who act as "beards" and bodyguards for their gay female besties against raging homophobes.
They've reserved a table at a fine Chinese restaurant - having a wonderful time dining and drinking together. Reminiscing the 'good old times' at Hawkins High (jokingly of course), and jointly planning a road trip somewhere nice and warm and most of all, far far away.
The Upside Down and the monsters are finally defeated and gone, and the group can relax at last and focus on their lives and planning their future. Chrissy no longer lives with her shitty mother; Billy no longer lives with his shitty father. Steve no longer feels sad and lonely and undecided because he's finally found the love of his life in Billy. The same goes for Robin who's in turn found her solid rock and happiness in Heather.
Eddie keeps dorking around and making stupid jokes around Chrissy who can't stop giggling at him, and finally rests her ginger head against his shoulder. Billy and Heather keep stealing food from each other's plates and they spit in each other's drinks, trying to disgust each other (consequently, disgusting the others around them as well). Steve and Robin are the only ones trying to act like adults at their table but they're having a hard time trying to keep a poker around their silly, childish friends and boyfriend/girlfriend.
After finishing dinner, Eddie pays for everything and as a charitable man and a gentleman at heart, tips the waiter as well, and they all exit the restaurant, full and tipsy. With arms around each other's shoulders, they all start loudly singing drunken songs into the night while they keep walking towards the taxi stand. And since Steve's still living with his parents - in his big mansion with guestrooms and all - and his parents are out on a trip, they all go there to spend the rest of the night.
#harringrove#buckleway#eddissy#my writing#my headcanons#i don't know how else to tag this#but i really want to see this happening#because canon sucks
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Can't believe I'm saying this but this season has been progressing nicely. It was kind of slow and somewhat lacking but the more I play, the more excited I get. I even look forward to new updates every week ugh this is such a struggle I'm torn between disliking fusebox and liking this season 😂💀
This CA is enjoyable so far! But maybe I set my standard too low after ex in the villa, that's why this season seems better LOL
Personally I like Hamish, he's so rude but kind of hilarious? What a dork 😂
Francis is sweet (ish) but he reminds me of a certain someone who owns a food truck named Cocktails and Cronuts lol
Marshall omg LOVE THE DESIGN but damn he is laying it THICK! Grace will definitely bring him into the main villa, if MC decides to stick or pick someone else. Also dude, siblings fight and hold grudges but I won't badmouth my own sibling to other people. He's definitely Bitter with Ozzy hmm very sus
Andy oh man Ryan who?? Elliot who?? I don't know them 🤷♀️ I actually like Marshall before but man I am a changed woman. He's hot, nice AND a vet????? I just hope fusebox won't ruin his character when he gets to the main villa 🥲
(If anyones judging me for doing Ryan route, dont worry I'm judging myself here LOL I actually like the character at first but HE IS SO CRINGY NOW UGHH I regret not choosing Lewie and now he's gone in my current playthrough 😭 will deffo play loyal Lewie route next time!)
Omg this rant ask turned out pretty long, soz didn't expect that 😂
After all this long ass rant, what's your thought on CA boys?
omg pls don’t apologise for a long rant, i love chats about pixel boys so you’re gonna get a long reply. If only we were doing it over brunch or something 😂
ok SO, the casa boys are really funny!
like I love the banter they all have with each other and they’ve all got different personalities?! I’m shocked!! it might end up being a Johnny/Nicolas situation where they completely change in the main villa, but we’ll see!
Im actually really enjoying the season too and I really love how everyone can make their mc’s so different both personality and looks wise
As for the casa boys. None have really caught my eye 😭 I thought for a minute hamish would because yeah he’s dorky and funny. But then we got the bacon kiss and it’s a firm no from me.
Francis surprised me. We guessed EXACTLY how he’d be. Like spot on. Gross with the pee comments. But he really just is there for vibes (and maybe a roof to sleep under bc he has no house)
Marshall, I’m undecided by. He’s hot as hell and the Marshall/ozzy dynamic gives me the Salvatore brothers a lil. But he does lay in on thick and I’m not a fan of that.
And then there’s Andy 🥰 what a sweetie. I’ve always said someone needs a job as a vet. I know I’m a Lewie Stan but something about Andy is too sweet for me. Not to mention he looks 15 and I feel icky.
So yes, I will be running back to the main villa single if they let me. Ready to be hurt by pixel boys already.
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