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thegnomelord · 5 months

Note

omg yes for the Ghost fic request you can do prompt 3 instead that would be great, thank you. some angst with a happy ending please

Sure thing dude, sorry this took so long, but a happy xmas to you lol My hyperfixation hyperfixated on this so it's a bit long and expositiony but I'm actually really happy with how this turned out :D Play the game HERE

Prompt: "Tell me how I’m supposed to un-love you, then. Tell me. Spare me.”

CW: NSFW, subbot Ghost, domtop Mreader, angst, misunderstandings, gentle sex, making up kinda, confessions, fwb turned lovers, idiots in love,

Simon's apartment is a picture of painful domesticity; your muddy boots sit neatly next to his by the door, two mugs set next to the coffee maker, two toothbrushes left on the sink only a foot away from different shower products that have long since mixed together into one giant pile, and a dozen more little things that tell anyone with a cursory glance — 'yeah, two people live here'.

When people wonder why you practically live together when you're just casual, you both just say it's convenient (and ignore how fake your answers sound).

After all; Why leave after he's ridden you to both of your completions when you can just settle on the couch and share a drink over a movie? Why should you waste money on a cab to get back to your own flat when you two can just tumble into bed? Why should Simon wake up to an empty and cold flat when he can do so in your arms, your steady heartbeat remind him you're both alive? Why leave in the morning and miss one of the few times Simon's fully relaxed when you can have a lazy morning, laying in bed and enjoying each other's company until the sun's high in the sky?

Why leave at all?

. . . Simon treasures every moment with you as much as he hates it, every second in your presence like a pretty hummingbird singing sweetly in his ear while it drills holes into his skull. Absolute Hell. Utter bliss.

He knows he doesn't deserve you. Knows you don't deserve to have a living corpse crawl back into your arms every night, nothing but a stranger with Simon's face. But you two have known each other so long it's impossible to let you go.

You met as toddlers when you'd nicked his toy, refusing to give it back until he agreed to play with you, and you've been stuck at the hip since. You two were each other's first kiss, fumbling behind the school bleachers, eager and sloppy like inexperienced lads are. First set of blooming hickeys along his collarbones, Simon's ma giving him a knowing look when she'd noticed it amongst the other bruises her no good husband had left on him. First fuck, quick and rough in a dark janitor closet during basic training, burning with need and heat. First—

. . . Simon doesn't know when the word 'Love' first registered in his brain. Maybe when you tore up heaven and hell looking for him. Maybe when you stuck by him when he did his best to scare you off, all rough words and teeth, unable to form one nice word when violence and revenge was all that was left in his head.

He doesn't know when he registered the word. Only that he looks at you whenever you do something mundane and thinks 'yeah. Love. That fits.'

But love has no place in. . . whatever this is. Hell, he's the one who'd set the ground rule when you two were young and dumb, reaffirming it after he'd come back as Ghost. And you'd never fought against it, agreeing to just be fucking casual, there's no way you want anything more than this. He doesn't want to cock it up, doesn't want to take more from you than he's already done, so he swallows all he feels and ignores how it burns his throat, going day by day like nothing's changed.

He wakes in your arms, deeply ingrained training waking him before dawn but the heat of your body keeps him rooted in place. Distantly he can still feel the cold tight confines of that coffin, of maggots wriggling on his skin, but memories of that nightmare float away before his traitorous mind can latch on to them. He lays in bed, head firmly on your chest so he can hear you, see you breathe. Morning comes too soon and you rouse awake, laying a sweet kiss on his forehead before getting out of bed to set the kettle on.

It's domestic.

It's painful.

. . .

You love how Simon looks. You especially love how he looks in his civies, freed of his armor and no longer needing to be guarded at all times, shoulders relaxed and mindlessly looking around as you talk while you browse the store. He's still gruff, and sarcastic, but you love that about him. You loved him long before he said not to tangle emotions in your meaningless bliss and long after he'd come back as Ghost, each unknown scar on his body taking a chip out of your heart.

And you respect his choice. You'll take what you can get and won't give it up even after your corpse has grown cold, hoping that will be enough to drown out the neediness of your heart. You lost him once and it had nearly killed you, you can't lose him again. . .

God, you're pathetic for him.

You meet miss Betty on your way back from the shop. She's your neighbor a few doors down, a sweet old lady who waters your plants when you and Simon are called back into action. You see her struggling with her bags so you hand your own to Simon so you can help her, "Hold this, please?"

"Only because you asked nicely." Simon huffs, but takes the bag without further complaint, walking behind you as you help miss Betty with her shopping, content to listen to you two talk about who knows what. It still amazes him how you've managed to charm all the neighbors Simon rarely spoke to.

"Oh, thank you deary." Miss Betty says as you put her shopping next to her door, holding onto your arm for support. "It's so nice to have a helpful person around here."

"It's not a problem ma'am." You say with a small smile, and fuck if Simon's heart doesn't beat a bit faster at the sight.

"You know," Miss Betty begins. "My grandson's been eyeing you up. And I can see why, you're such a strapping young man."

You feel Simon's gaze fall on you like a dagger, cold, hard, expectant. You try to think of what to say but your words fail you, because while you and Simon aren't in a relationship you can't picture yourself be with anyone else. "I-"

"Oh don't worry deary, I told him he was barking up the wrong tree." Miss Betty cuts you off by giggling like a school girl, "I wouldn't want to separate you two love birds."

The words burning on your tongue escape you before you can filter them. "Yeah, I doubt I could love anyone other than Simon." You clear your throat after, feeling his eyes on you.

Miss Betty just coos. "Oh, to be young and in love." Then she turns, waving her walking stick at Simon like he's an annoying pigeon that flew into her house. "You better treat him properly you big oaf, he's good for you."

Oh, Simon knows. Knows you're too good for him. But all he lets out is a small grunt, and you can't help the surprised laugh that escapes you.

You don't think of what you say next, so far away from a warzone your defenses are lowered. "No need to worry ma'am, he's the love of my life and I can assure you he treats me very well."

There's that word again, and the way it leaves your lips has Simon's heart skipping a beat. Fuck, Simon wants to hear you say it until he's deaf. Wants to hold your jaw closed so you don't speak again and stop making him feel this. Wants to pull you close and throw you out of the window at the same time. Wants— . . . he doesn't know what he wants.

"Oh, well I won't hold you up any more dears." Miss Betty says, patting you on the arm before shuffling back to her apartment with her shopping.

There's an uncomfortable silence between you two while you get back to Simon's flat, neither one of you sure what to say about the damn elephant in the room. You take the bags you'd given him, your back to him as you put them on the counter.

Acting like nothing's wrong. Nothing's changed.

But it has.

"An' you say my heart's rotten." Simon grunts, gruff and harsh, too many thoughts brewing in his head to properly say what he's thinking.

You turn to him, surprise obvious on your face. "What?"

"Lyin' to old ladies." His jaw is tense behind his face mask, which you note he hadn't taken off when the front door had closed, back to being guarded around you, something between Simon and Ghost. "Granted, it was convincing. What, did you take some creative writing lessons from Laswell?"

You stare at him for a few seconds, then you feel your jaw tense as well. "Christ, Simon, what are you on about?" You growl, stomping over to him.

His shoulders tense as you approach, but the scent of your cologne calms his body without his mind's input. "Can't love anyone but me?" He asks, something cold and slimy settling in your stomach when you realize he's repeating your words. "Love of your life am I?" Simon scoffs, the skin around his eyes moving in a sardonic smirk. "You're full of shite."

He doesn't know who he's trying to convince here.

You know you should brush it off, go along and say it was just a joke. Say anything that won't clue him in to your real feelings. Hell, not even saying a thing would be good.

But you just have to open your mouth.

"I wasn't lying about that Simon." You say suddenly, open, honest, your eyes meeting his.

Silence stretches long enough to have your nerves crackle with static, your body needing something instead of the nothing he gives you. Then Simon lets out a short, dry laugh, like your words are just a joke.

"Quit it." He huffs, doesn't meet your eyes because looking at you and entertaining the idea that he could have something more with you fucking hurts. "'m not up for your focking jokes." He grows, turning to leave,

Something inside you makes you move before your mind can comprehend it, grabbing his hand to stop him, "Simon I love you damn it!"

Your words are like a slap to the face for him. Simon freezes like a cornered deer, thousands of thoughts darkening his eyes, brows furrowed like he doesn't know whether to be angry or not. "But we—'

"—we agreed, I know. I fucking know." You hiss and damn it you can feel tears prickle your eyes like needles, "But I fucking love you, been in love with you for years and I know we agreed not to but—" You're babbling now, each word leaving your chest feeling raw like an open wound, the weight on your shoulders lessening but it only draws the noose tighter. "—just tell me how I'm supposed to un-love you, then. Tell me. Spare me."

Silence greets you as you stare into his eyes, that same static gnawing on your nerves the longer he just looks at you without a word, searching for something in your eyes he expects not to find.

But he does.

He spares you, pulls you by the clothes so his lips can crash onto yours, holding you close like you'll disappear. The kiss is sloppy and desperate just as it had been when you'd been hiding behind the school bleachers, all teeth and tongue and care.

Eventually the need for air breaks you two apart, but Simon refuses to let you go far. His rough hands hug you close as he rests his forehead against yours, pupils blown wide. ". . .love me, huh?" He says under his breath, as if he can't believe it.

"Yeah." You breathe out and wrap your own arms around him till there's not an inch of space between your chests, hearts beating fast like war drums but in such a rhythm you'd be fooled to think you share one. "Do you?"

Simon swallows, his throat dry, but the words slide smoothly off his tongue. "Yeah." He says, letting you pull him back into a kiss. It's sweeter this time, calmer, no longer rushing to feel the other. He melts against you, a low sound building in his throat as the sensations of you wrap his mind in silk, the taste, the feel, the scent, all of it making his mind fuzzy. All his now.

You lose track of time, stealing gulps of air between kisses as your minds drown in the other, your bodies moving on their own. You don't know how you end up in the bed but you do, your skin prickling with goosebumps as Simon's body presses against your own.

You part to catch your breath, Simon's head falling back on the pillow with your name leaving his lips like a prayer. He's underneath you, eyes hooded and short hair ruffled, and while usually he'd push you back and wrestle for control, this time he just melts into the sheets, lets you do as you want.

"Fuck-" Simon growls as you kiss down his neck, his blunt nails scratching your scalp as reward for the little hickeys you leave on his throat. Your hands roam across his body, leaving lingering trails of burning heat. "Love, please hurry up." He breathes out, cock already rock hard from just a few kisses and heavy touches.

"Right," You say, because that's all your brain can conjure up at the moment. Blindly reaching for the lube you trail kisses down his front, your lips tracing every scar along the way, his legs easily parting so you can settle between them. You can't help but look him over again, all relaxed and eager for you, chest rising and falling like he's a racehorse. "God you're fucking pretty."

A deep flush spreads from Simon's ears down to his hickey marked shoulders, a little smile tugging on the corner of his lip. "Just pretty?"

"Beautiful." You breathe out against his abdomen, rubbing your fingers together to warm the lube. "So handsome." You don't miss how his cock twitches, your lips following his happy trail. "Charming." You hum against the tip of his cock, tongue lolling out to lick at his slit. "Bloody bewitching." His hips buck into your mouth as your fingers slowly circle his puckered rim, putting just a bit of pressure at first. "Irresistible." His body yields, the tense muscles of his rim going lax and letting you slide a finger in.

A low and long groan escapes his chest, eyes fluttering shut as he savors the stretch, tight walls clenching in the rhythm of his breaths. "Read a dictionary, did you?" Simon smirks, heart warm and floaty at the way you wait for him to relax after the intrusion before you move, at the way you look at him when your exploring finger brushes his prostate and makes him moan. "Such a focking charmer."

"Just for you." You chuckle, lightly sucking on his cockhead to make him forget about the lingering pain, your ears pricked to hear every little groan and unabashed moan leaving his lips. "Can you handle two?" You ask, your second finger resting against his rim without trying to push in.

He growls like an animal and pushes his hips down on your hand, "You're sleeping on the couch if you don't hurry up." He warns at your question, his harsh glare softened by the heavy flush across his face and his hooded eyes.

"Not the dog house." You say in mock fear, swallowing his leaking cock a third of the way down in one go as you push your second finger in, your thumb rubbing the space between his balls and ass so his prostate is trapped on both ends.

"Shite-" Simon's hips twitch up, beads of precum painting your tongue as his legs spread open more. "-you wanker." His insult is light, head rolling back as he grounds his hips down in an attempt to chase after that spine numbing pleasure your fingers bring.

Pulling back enough to murmur "Love you too." against his tip you take him into your mouth again. You can't measure how good it feels to say those words honestly instead of sarcastically, your own arousal forgotten as you work him open on your fingers, the constant pressure on his prostate making a small stream of precum bead down your throat.

Simon floats in heaven for, he doesn't know how long, the pleasure making his brain melt through his dick, unable to stop the soft sounds escaping his throat. He cracks an eye open when the tightness in his stomach becomes apparent, barely able to stave off his orgasm when he sees his cock throbbing between your lips.

Your name comes out slurred as he tugs on your hair, "Need you. Now." A little bit of his usual demanding nature comes out, but even then it's born out of desperation to feel you rather than the need to be in control.

You let him pull you off his cock, placing gentle kisses on his thick thighs as you pull your fingers out of his stretched hole. "You have me."

You go to grab a condom but he stops you, too aroused to be embarrassed by his eagerness. "You don't- my physical, I'm clean. If you want, I mean-"

You furrow your brows, your chest tight with how big your heart feels. You could never hide how sick you'd feel at the thought of Simon being intimate with someone else, even when you'd never agreed to be exclusive. "We did physicals nearly three months ago, you haven't. . .?"

He shakes his head, "No," Suddenly he tenses up, his jaw tight like he's expecting bad news. "Have you?" His tone isn't judgmental, but you can hear the edge of hurt.

"No. No. No!" Quick to dispel his thoughts you lean over to kiss him like he's a bout of fresh air and you've been drowning for years. It's not too far from the truth. "You're the only one I've ever. . .done that with." You murmur against his lips, earning yourself another kiss as he pulls down by a hand on the back of your neck.

"Good." Simon tuts, proud, hiking one leg around your waist to pull you closer, your cocks rubbing together. "Fuck me already." He grumbles, his strong arms wrapped around your neck.

"Right, yeah." Despite how many times you've done this suddenly you feel like a fucking virgin, your hands trembling slightly as you lube up your cock. You press the tip against his slick hole, forcing you to bite your lip as you start to push your hips. "Just relax, yeah?"

"Yeah." Simon breathes out, feeling pressure of your cockhead against his hole. You both groan when your cockhead pops inside him, your lips on his making him forget about the lingering sting. "Shite, so good for me." Simon hums, looking at you with hooded eyes. Usually he relishes the sting and burn sex with you brings, but he's so loose and lubed the pain is barely a prickle at the back of his skull and he finds himself getting addicted to the unfiltered pressure and weight of your cock inside him.

"Simon," You say, clenching your teeth as you try to keep still so he can get used to you, holding his hips for dear life. "Can I- please I need."

"Focking move it," He nods his head, his head rolling back from the sensation of you moving inside him, your cock brushing against his walls as you push inside him inch by inch until you're fully inside him.

Your nerves a live wire from how tight and hot his hole is, forcing you to rest your head on the pillow next to his as you try to gather your self-control; you'll be damned if you cum before him.

"I'm good." Simon tugs on your scalp, your lips meeting in a lopsided kiss. You pull away to rest your forehead against his, his eyes blown wide and hooded, something about this position so intimate it melts your heart. "Hurry up, 'm not going to last long." He confesses, his walls clenching down on your length.

Words escape you so you just nod your head, slowly pulling your hips back before pushing back in, Simon meeting you half way so your cock can lay consistent pressure on his prostate. You two move like one, your senses full of sex and heat, your ears ringing with Simon's low moans and groans. Moving your hand down you stroke him in time with your thrusts, earning yourself even more moans. Usually Simon's so quiet in bed, but now he lets it all out so freely, low growls and huffs and small 'ah, ah, ah's breathed into your ear with every small movement of your hips.

Your pace picks up as your orgasm approaches, your cock bashing against his prostate with all the subtlety of a tank. "Shite-" Simon throws his head back to moan, leaving his throat open for your teeth to lay even more hickeys. "-I, fuck, yeah, that's the spot- just- I need-" His voice turns higher pitched and needy, his body moving with the force of your thrusts, powerful arms pulling you even closer so his teeth can clamp down on your shoulder.

Simon cums with a shout that's muffled into the meat of your shoulder, whole body shaking like a leaf in the wind as he paints both of your stomach's white with his cum, his hole clenching down and pulling you along with him. You cum inside him and moan, collapsing on top of him, completely exhausted.

The silence of the bedroom is broken up by your haggard breathing, both of your bodies sweaty and hot. You tilt your head just enough to catch the way Simon looks at you, like a content cat that knows he's safe, and shit if that doesn't melt your heart, nothing will.

"God, that was something else." You say to break the silence, trying to pull out when you feel yourself soften but your attempts are stopped quickly, Simon grumbling something under his breath as he hugs you closer. "What?" You ask.

He throws a light glare your way, but his eyelids droop with exhaustion. "Don't." He says, relaxing when you stop what you're doing. "Want to feel you." He says; it's the most intelligent thing his mind can conjure up right now.

A gentle smile tugs on your lips. "Right." You lean down to share another kiss with him, this one sweet and slow, his tongue gently liking your lips as a way to ask for entrance— why rush when you've got all the time in the world?

The exhaustion weighing on your bones and Simon saccharine kisses lull you to sleep soon enough, your body like a weighted blanket on top of him. "Love you," You mumble just before your eyes close.

Simon fights against his own fatigue for a few more minutes, relishing the feeling of being connected in such a primal way, with you in him and around him. He takes in your sleeping face with blurry eyes.

Yeah. Love. That fits.

#Gnome's Prompt Game #gnome correspondence #cod mw2 #trinkets from the hoard #male reader #top male reader #x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x male reader #dom male reader #ghost x reader #cod modern warfare #cod x male reader #cod smut

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starfirexuchiha · 1 year

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Unused Akechi Thieves Den conversations

There are some unused Thieves Den conversations that Akechi had with the other PTs, so I wanted to show them here. This is a long post btw.

Zorro - Yusuke & Akechi convo

Yusuke: ......

Akechi: You're looking at that Persona rather intently. Is he that intriguing?

Yusuke: Absolutely. It is an unparalleled luxury to lay sight on the physical manifestation of another's self-image. Not just any artist can claim to have borne witness to the likes of Personas, or Mementos. It would be foolish not to use this opportunity to incorporate these concepts into an art piece.

Akechi: I... see. Well, you have fun with that.

Yusuke: Ah, before you go. Would you be so kind as to show me your own Persona? I'd love to use him as a model for one of my sketches.

Akechi: ...I'm going to have to decline.

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Goro doesn’t want to model for Yusuke lol

Robin Hood - Ann & Akechi convo

Ann: Seeing this reminds me of the days you still acted like a prince. Things have gotten pretty dark since then...

Akechi: Complain all you like, but this is who I am. I'm not going to change back.

Ann: I'm not complaining. It's better to know you're being honest and not hiding anything from us.

Akechi: Honest, huh.

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I like how Ann is accepting of Goro’s true self.

Robin Hood - Sumire & Akechi convo

Sumire: This Persona is yours, Akechi-senpai? I'm surprised. It's very, um... noble.

Akechi: Ah, that's right. I suppose you've never seen this one.

Sumire: Never! Do you fight with it the same way? You know, "Muahahahaaa! You're all gonna die! Sayonara, suckers!"

Akechi: Heh. Are you mocking me?

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Sumire’s friendship with Goro is so adorable!

Robin Hood - Ryuji, Ann & Akechi convo

Ryuji: It ain't fair that he gets to have two Personas. Aren't you kinda jealous?

Ann: Sometimes. Is it something you can train yourself to do?

Akechi: Personas are part of your personality, correct? Why don't you try acting like someone you're not?

Ryuji: Dammit, Akechi!

Akechi: Down, boy. Learn to take a jo—

Ryuji: You're a frickin' genius! Let's do it!

Ann: Good idea! I wonder what I should act like...

Akechi: Hah. And here I thought I'd seen the limits of your idiocy.

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Goro was like “Why don’t you try being a wildcard?”. It ain’t that easy though lol

Morgana Car - Akechi, Ryuji & Yusuke convo

Akechi: This car was a lot more comfortable than I expected. I can't say I mind it.

Ryuji: Dude, have you forgotten how bumpy that shit was in Mementos? I thought my ass was gonna split in half.

Yusuke: Agreed on the bumpiness. It was rather effective at abating my hunger, though.

Akechi: I don't usually ride in cars with such weak suspension. It was a new experience for me.

Ryuji: THAT'S what you call it!?

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You learn something new everyday.

Kamoshida Statue - Sae & Akechi convo

Sae: Honestly, when I heard there was a teacher like this at Makoto's school, my blood ran cold.

Akechi: If it was that much of a concern, why didn't you bring it up with the faculty?

Sae: It's not that simple.

Akechi: You should be more upfront about your feelings. Then again, I suppose you are who you are.

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Did Kamoshida had some way of making the students’ parents/guardians not complain about him? Is that why Mishima was like “the parents know but don’t care”?

Kaneshiro (Ruler Form) - Makoto, Ryuji & Akechi convo

Makoto: Say, Kaneshiro mentioned that there was someone using other people's Palaces to do whatever they pleased...

Akechi: Yeah. I suppose that was me. I'm surprised a petty criminal like him had caught wind of me, though.

Ryuji: But Shido's the one who was takin' advantage, yeah? I thought you were just followin' orders.

Akechi: Hm... It's not quite that simple.

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What do you mean by that Goro? Do you have more freedom when you’re in palaces or something because the conspiracy is not aware of what goes on in there?

Shido (Ruler Form) - Akechi & Sae convo

Akechi: I never thought the scheme would end with Shido. I always assumed some other monster would take up his mantle.

Sae: Even so, I'd already decided that I wouldn't give up on exposing the guilty parties. ...I want to keep my faith in justice.

Akechi: Oh? Something so cliché coming from you is rather surprising, Sae-san. I suspect the Phantom Thieves have rubbed off on you quite a bit.

Sae: That's a possibility. Maybe you could do with some change yourself? Like, drop the "cool customer" act and just live in the moment?

Akechi: Hah! Surely you jest. I'll pass.

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Oh Goro is putting up his Detective Prince act on this one.

Interrogation Room - Akechi & Morgana convo

Akechi: How nostalgic... It makes me sick to remember that day. I can't believe I was so thoroughly tricked.

Morgana: It was quite a gamble on our end. But ultimately, our justice saw the light.

Akechi: Justice, huh... Sure, let's leave it at that.

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Sounds like Goro doesn’t believe Morgana there.

Penguin Sniper - Ryuji & Akechi convo

Ryuji: Pool's pretty fun once ya get used to it. Aight Akechi, let's go a round! It's time for the Ultra Mega Poolin' Schoolin'!

Akechi: Ignoring that ludicrous title... Do you honestly wish to play against me?

Ryuji: I'm a man of my word! I know I got no chance when it comes to brainy stuff, but this? I can take ya. Or what, are you chicken?

Akechi: Heh, of course not. Sure, I'll play a round. And I won't be holding back.

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I think Goro is gonna use his right hand, but Ryuji you should still prepare yourself. 👀

Loki - Yusuke & Makoto convo

(Akechi is not in this unused convo but the convo is about him)

Yusuke: To think we would fight side-by-side with Akechi once more... His personality seems to have shifted, though. It's a far cry from the Detective Prince we once knew.

Makoto: That is true... But somehow, I think it made him easier to talk to. He's honest with us, at least. I don't worry about him hiding things anymore.

Yusuke: Yes... His murderous screeching may be unsettling, but I've come to realize that is simply a part of who he is. Perhaps it would be worthwhile to paint a portrait of him, knowing this...

Makoto: If you do, I'd love to see it. ...I'd like to hear what he thinks of it, too.

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Murderous screeching LOL! Again Yusuke, Goro will not model for you 😆

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and that’s all of the unused Goro convos in the Thieves Den.

#unused content #goro akechi #persona 5 royal #p5 royal #thieves den #yusuke kitawaga #ann takamaki #ryuji sakamoto #makoto niijima #sae niijima #morgana #zorro #robin hood #loki #suguru kamoshida #junya kaneshiro #masayoshi shido

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meeeeeeri · 1 year

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Things that really ANNOYED THE FUCK OUTTA ME while watching OUTER BANKS SEASON 3:

First things first: Big John AKA big old crazy dude

Let's just say that besides being a shitty father figure he also is selfish as fuck. He only decides to appear in John B's life whenever he needs him to do something treasure related, like ok big John, you love your son so much *cough cough*

In other hand, he also is willing to do ANTHING to find el Dorado, and by ANYTHING I mean killing people, tell me that's not what a psychopath would do.

And all the fricking screen time dedicated to the relationship between John B and his father???? Like we get that they need to bond again but DO WE HAVE TO WATCH ALL THE PROCESS?

No thank you Netflix, do better next time

I saw a tik tok that went something like this: Who said Ward is a bad person? Big John? cause if we wanna talk about someone BAD let's talk about Big John...

And yeah, that tik tok literally summes up my opinion about this individual.

Me roasting Big John with this post:

2: Rafe and the girl named Sofia who came out of nowhere

Ok. Don't misunderstand me; the idea of introducing a new character who's gonna play the girlfriend or fuckbuddy of Rafe is super super interesting to me BUT

Can you elaborate more their relationship????? Give more CONTEXT????

They could even use her apparition and do a BOMB ASS side story like idk maybe her being more cruel than Rafe or her having some kind of business relationship with Singh and betraying him in the process... WHATEVER

But I'm just saying that that would have been more interesting than the parental issues between Big Dumbass John and John B

A video of me crying while scenes of John B and his dad appeared on my tv non stop:

LOOK AT HIM HE'S SO CUTE LOVE HIM

3: Sarah and Topper

Don't even get me started on this shit.

When I saw that Sarah went back to flirting with Topper I was like WHA- WHE- WHO

But I'm not gonna question her that much because they are supposed to be playing teenagers, and that's what teenagers and (also) some adults do:

STUPID SHIT

And Topper... I really don't know how to feel about him.

He's like a shark who's ready to attack if he sniffs some blood (Sarah and John B breaking up or having relationship turbulences), but I can't even blame him that much because I feel like he really loves Sarah besides everything, and he really demonstrated it this season by helping the pogues out.

What Topper was replaying in his head when Sarah promised him that she would stay:

4: Sarah's thoughts when she was left with no family, no money and nowhere to go (she was homeless for like a day and decided to cope with it by drinking beer from an abandoned beer tap, ok)

Um... When I say I was expecting her to say something philosophical and life changing and SHE DECIDED TO CONCLUDE HER SPEECH WITH: I really don't know if I'm a pogue or a kook...

SIDE EYE

Girl I KNOW you are 17 but GROW THE FUCK UP.

You've been betrayed by your OWN FATHER and SHOT and nearly KILLED by your BROTHER and that's what you're thinking about???

Jesus Christ have mercy on me

All the build up story around pogues and kooks is really interesting (even tho it's like another form of saying rich and poor people) but when characters say shit like that it really makes no sense.

You have no home, no family, you argued with your bf and he left, and your friends are not there at the moment and YOU ARE THINKING ABOUT THAT IRRELEVANT SHIT? Damn

Ok, I think I am done with most of the things I wanted to say. There are MORE for sure, but these are the most important ones.

I have to be honest with you, I still haven't watched the last episode bc I really got tired of their bullshit. I love the show and I really love the characters, but this season just wasn't it. I am gonna try and finish it today with hopes that they will end it in a decent way (I don't think so but whatever).

It's not a secret by the end of this post that I'm a spanish native speaker so, yeah, I tried my best to write down correctly the ideas that I had about the show, so PLEASE don't come at me.

I'm also writing a fanfiction about Rafe, but I'm doing it in spanish because I feel like if I wrote it in english I would fuck it up.

Maybe I will try and start uploading Rafe imagines or smth like that, bc they would be shorter and easier to write for me.

PLEASE if you have any thoughts or a comment that you wanna add after reading my rant, just do it, I'm for sure gonna be answering y'all because I love to talk about the show and the characters.

BYE P4L

#obx #obx3 #outer banks #outer banks 3 #rafecameron #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe x y/n #sorry for the rant #rafe cameron imagine #outer banks fanfiction #outerbanks fic #rafe cameron blurb #obx smut #rafe cameron smut #outer banks smut

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taskignored · 1 year

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Make the fae inhuman

I'm talking scales, chitin, horns, tails, extra limbs, extra eyes, ears, growing flowers, moss, or branches from their bodies, please am begging.

Acotar is supposed to be a Beauty and the Beast retelling, except the beast isn't really beastly? It's just a smoking hot elf dude with anger issues, which are a dime-a-dozen in YA. Nothing special or groundbreaking.

There is a way Author Lady could've made TimTam hot without it being completely unfaithful to that Beauty and The Beast aspect of the book. He's a fudging shapeshifter, so why not make shapeshifting a cultural aspect of Spring?

Like, everybody there has this belief that form is fluid and petitioning the HL to change their shape into a shape more comfortable for them is something that is common and even expected. It could be a coming of age ceremony where the HL recognizes these new adults as adults/citizens of his territory where he helps them change into something else. "A form is like clothes or the weather, it changes" could be a saying in Spring.

Warriors could be given shapes that help them do their jobs. Better noses for investigations, better hearing for guarding, forms that better facilitate fighting, etc.

Citizens could be unicorns or deer or literally anything, or a combination of things, they have magic so I don't think the lack of thumbs would matter to them anyways. I don't think the "anything" part can be emphasized enough tho, you could have endless variation. You don't need something as boring as names for fae species like fawns or water wraiths or whatever. In fact, I'd imagine that the people of Spring would just call themselves The Children of Spring (parallel the Children of Blessed?), ever changing and stuff.

Anyway, back to my original point. TimTam is a shapeshifter, so his form is fluid. What if, because he's desperate to lift the curse from his people, he just changes his and his staffs' shapes to make them more human-like to lull his human companion into a sense of security with the familiarity of the human-ish forms we see in the books. So, as he and Feyre get closer, he becomes more comfortable and braver.

It could be a milestone in their relationship where he shows her what his usual shape looks like. Which, I would imagine, would be something completely inhuman. Horns, fur, maybe some actual vines and flowers growing from him. And lying over his shape could be a blanket of actual power, the Power of Spring (which is unusually dim and not as potent b/c of the curse). This aura could make it look like his shape is constantly changing in minute ways. Extra eyes, more limbs, scales, chitin, anything.

And Feyre, because she loves him, would love this version of him wholly. This would lead to him changing the shapes of the other faeries in the mansion back to their own forms. Just think, no more boring human-fae, but actual fairies. The kinds that actual look otherworldly.

And you know what, why not extend that to the mansion and other fae places. In our lore it's ill advised to go into the woods alone, there are changelings and witches and such. Make the woods become endless and winding, the mansion could have extra corridors that lead no where, or other unexplained phenomenon. Fae rules don't have to make sense. Make it so that if Feyre (or humans in general) wanders off, it isn't necessarily the fae that would be their undoing, but the woods. She could wander forever if she doesn't have a guide or something.

#anti sjm #Acotar deserved better #Acotar au

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octoberobserver · 2 years

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Fuck Fight Club and Pretty Woman Too

(Read on ao3)

“You wanna fill me in on why you’ve been a grade-A asshole all night, Eddie?”

Richie was pissed. More pissed than Eddie could ever remember him being.

And it was all his fault.

Not that he’d admit it.

He took his time hanging up his coat, staring doggedly at it and ignoring Richie’s piercing gaze burning a hole into the side of his head.

“I don’t know what you’re—”

“Oh cut the crap, Kaspbrak, you know exactly what I’m talking about,” Richie practically growled, shirking off his jacket, draping it over the couch and throwing his keys onto the coffee table instead of the key holder in the exact way he knew drove Eddie up the wall.

Eddie did in fact know what he was talking about. His sour mood had not gone unnoticed among some of Richie’s associates the entire latter half of the evening. It hung over him like a dark cloud as he grew quiet and withdrawn, excluding when he threw more than a few barbed comments at one of the particularly obnoxious attendees.

But Eddie was never the type to give in this early on in an argument. Well, unless it was against his ex-wife back when they were miserably married and he just gave her her way to avoid having to talk for long periods of time. With his best friend/roommate, though? He only dug his heels in deeper. Always had. Since the day they met in third grade.

“No Richie, I don’t know,” he replied through a clenched jaw, snatching up the keys and depositing them in the little dish by the door, where they were meant to go, “why don’t you enlighten me?”

Richie stormed into the kitchen, wrenching open the fridge door roughly and pulling out a beer, twisting the cap off and angrily guzzling it.

Eddie watched him, a spike of irritation beginning to form under his skin.

Richie’s infuriation was infectious.

“Don’t throw the—”

The words died in Eddie’s throat as he watched Richie fling the bottle cap towards the garbage can like he did most nights, despite nine times out of ten missing the shot by a mile.

The cap bounced off the lid and clinked to the floor.

Eddie saw red.

“Oh for fuck’s sake, Richie! Why do you always—”

“Were you jealous?”

Eddie blinked.

The atmosphere in the room began to shift.

Heat rushed up his neck, to his cheeks as Richie tilted his head, an unreadable expression on his face.

“Why would I be jealous?” Eddie asked, gaze lowered as he bent down to pick up the bottle cap. “You’re entitled to flirt with whoever you want.”

Richie snorted, and even though Eddie couldn’t see his face, he knew he was rolling his eyes.

“I wasn’t flirting with him, Eds. He was flirting with me.”

Eddie's entire body tensed as he straightened up, shuffling over to the trash can and muttering over his shoulder, “Whatever. It’s not like I’m your boyfriend or something.”

He could feel Richie’s stare piercing into the back of his head as he continued, “We...we’re just best friends who get each other off, Rich. And that...that can change whenever you want.”

A beat of silence met those words.

Eddie refused to turn around.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

He couldn't decipher anything in Richie’s voice, it sounded almost robotic, but a dart of pain shot through Eddie’s chest, right under his scar anyway as he tried to prepare himself for what he had to say next.

“It means…” he began as evenly as he could, moving across the kitchen to get a glass, his back still turned, “if you wanna date, or...or fuck other dudes, or whatever…have at it. We’ll...we’ll stop this…” he waves a hand over his shoulder to where he estimated Richie was standing, "arrangement. No questions asked.”

Because if anything was obvious to Eddie after seeing him flourish tonight, it was that Richie...he deserved more. More than their little arrangement allowed. And Eddie would be damned if he held him back from that for his own selfish reasons.

Another silence followed his words. He had to turn around sometime. He knew that.

He managed to delay it just a little longer by walking over to the sink and turning on the faucet, resting his palms on the counter, hunching his shoulders, making no move to fill his glass. The rush of water almost drowned out Richie’s quiet reply, barely above a whisper.

“Do you wanna stop, Eddie?”

Hell no.

It had all begun three months earlier when Richie accidentally walked in on Eddie ‘punchin’ the upside down clown,’ as Richie so fondly called it. Their eyes had locked, Richie frozen in shock, Eddie in embarrassment. Richie could have hightailed it outta there, they could have brushed it off, marked it down as one of the hazards of being roommates and maybe, after a time, even laughed about it. Instead, Eddie had choked out Richie’s name, his cock still gripped in hand, so impossibly hard as Richie’s eyes began to lower.

They had just watched each other, breaths ragged as Eddie’s hand began to move, slowly at first, then gradually speeding up, pumping his cock hard, over and over and over, a surge of confidence flowing in him that was fuelled by Richie drinking in his every move, until his orgasm started to rake through him, causing him to cry out and begin to come all over his stomach.

That had lit a fire under Richie, he scrambling over to the bed and dropping to his knees, his giant hand covering Eddie’s, squeezing and moving in time with his jerks.

“Shit, fuck— Richie,” Eddie gasped, his voice broken as they pulled the last of orgasm from him together.

“Eds—I—can I…?”

Eddie had nodded, happy to grant him anything, whatever he could possibly want in that moment.

Turned out, what Richie had wanted was his mouth around Eddie’s dick.

Wildly, all Eddie could think as Richie's head lowered to his lap was how Dick wants my dick .

He almost passed out when the wet heat enveloped him, hissing a little as his over-sensitive nerves tingled.

“R-Richie, oh my god,” he wheezed, his hand reaching up and clawing at his hair, pulling it tightly through his fingers.

Richie groaned, the vibration heading straight to Eddie’s cock and causing his back to arch off the bed.

It was then that Eddie realised three things.

One, the hand currently buried in Richie’s hair was covered in Eddie’s come, it smeared into his locks in a way that should have had Eddie recoiling in disgust, but instead sent a bolt of arousal through him, despite his exhaustion. Two, Richie’s mouth was ridiculously talented—the type of talented that could get a 41 year old man’s refractory period shaved significantly down— holy shit . Eddie may never call him a Trashmouth ever again after this. And three, Richie was rock hard. His erection pressing into Eddie’s side from where he kneeled along the bed.

At that revelation, Eddie’s free hand had wandered almost unbeknownst to himself, out to cup Richie through his pants, causing him to jump in surprise, his mouth pulling off Eddie’s dick with a pop that had him shivering.

They stared at one another, Eddie marvelling at Richie’s plump, crimson-stained lips that had a bead of Eddie’s come gathered in the crease of his mouth.

A beat passed where their eyes met, they on a knife-edge, the precipice of something unknown.

Then Eddie squeezed his hand a little tighter, causing Richie’s breath to hitch.

And the rest...was history.

It became a regular thing, then. Just them...tending to each other whenever they needed it. Quick hand jobs before Richie had to meet with an exec, sloppy blowjobs to celebrate Eddie’s promotion and Richie’s Netflix deal and one very memorable rim-job on the eve of Eddie’s one year ‘death-day.’

They hadn’t talked about it much. But they had unwritten rules.

One — don’t talk about Fight Club. AKA The Arrangement.™ So no spilling the beans to any of the Losers.

Two — don’t talk about Fight Club. Seriously. If the Losers found out they would be un-fucking-bearable and put a screeching halt to the most (and best) sex either of them had had in years. (Maybe ever.)

Three — no kissing. Eddie had deemed that a step over the line. Which, Richie had easily countered with, “Oh, so you can have my tongue in your ass, but not your mouth? Some logic ya got there, Eds.” But Eddie wouldn’t budge. So Pretty Woman rules it was.

And Four — no fourth base, going all the way, the whole enchilada, whatever you wanna call it.

They both agreed that that would definitely be over the line.

And so, with those firm set of rules alá Fight Club and Pretty Woman in play, Eddie and Richie made it work, it somehow slotting almost seamlessly into their daily lives, their friendship and cohabitation hardly changing at all.

Until Eddie’s green-eyed monster reared its ugly head, of course.

Except...that isn’t exactly true, is it? You were compromised from the start, asswipe.

Eddie ignored his inner-voice that sounded irritatingly like a thirteen-year-old Trashmouth as he shoved his glass under the water, letting it fill.

“That Eric guy seemed pretty into you,” he murmured, pivoting from the question as he shut off the faucet, “it would probably be a good idea to uh...call off The Arrangement if you wanted to call that number on your hand.”

He turned, then. Just in time to see Richie blink in surprise.

Yeah. Eddie had seen the exact moment the hot, young blond had reached across and playfully tugged on Richie’s hand, scrawling something onto the palm of it. It didn’t take a genius to know what.

“Eric’s a kid,” Richie snorted as Eddie’s gaze finally met his.

“He's 29.”

“Exactly. He’s a millennial.”

“Your new fan base is made up of mostly millennials, Richie. And Gen Z’ers,” Eddie rolled his eyes, crossing the kitchen and realising in his haste that he had left his water but was too stubborn to turn back, trudging on towards the living room.

Only to have his way blocked by the garish, tuxedo T-shirt that Richie had insisted on wearing to his press junket despite Beverly desperately pleading with him no to. In compromise, she had designed him a very sexy faux-leather jacket that highlighted the breadth of his shoulders very nicely.

Not that Eddie noticed, or anything.

Liar liar pants on—

He slowly raised his gaze, eyebrows furrowing as he saw an enigmatic expression cross Richie’s face.

“That Ron guy seemed pretty into you.”

Eddie frowned.

“You mean Ross?”

“Whatever,” Richie waved a hand dismissively, his attention bouncing around the room, “he was flirting up a storm with you at the bar.”

Eddie snorted, “Ross was just being friendly, Richie. He saw that I was on my own when you were—”

“He was flirting with you, Eddie. He couldn’t have been more obvious than if he shoved a rose between his teeth and asked you to tango.”

Eddie’s lips, the traitors, twitched at that. He cleared his throat.

“I’m pretty sure I know when someone is flirting with me, Richie.”

“Really?” Richie scoffed, the pitch of his voice climbing as he threw up his hands in exasperation, “see, I don’t think you do, Eds. Fuck, I’ve been flirting with you since 1986 and look where—”

He cut himself off abruptly, but it was too late.

Eddie watched as Richie froze, his eyes as wide as saucers behind his glasses.

His heart began to race.

“You...what? Rich—”

“Nothing, forget it,” Richie held up his hands in surrender and that’s when Eddie caught it.

The remnants of a dark smudge.

Eric’s phone number.

Or what used to be his number anyway.

Eddie’s own hands shot out before he knew what was happening, both grasping the larger hand and tugging it closer.

“Did you rub it off?”

He kept his gaze carefully trained on Richie’s palm as he heard his breath hitch.

“...maybe.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t wanna get ink poisoning—why the fuck do you think, Eddie?”

His grip tightened around Richie’s fingers as his eyes slowly lifted.

They stared at one another, the silence ringing loud in the kitchen.

“I…” Eddie floundered, desperately wracking his brain for some words to form a coherent sentence.

Don’t get your hopes up, Kaspbrak. You know how that always ends.

Richie must have taken his hesitance for a dismissal however as he heaved a heavy sigh and began pulling out of his grasp.

“Forget it, Eds, I’m tired and a little tipsy. I’m just gonna go to—”

“I was jealous.”

Richie stilled, his eyes darting back to Eddie’s, his hand still firmly in his grip.

“You were?”

Eddie heart hammered against his rib cage so hard he felt it might burst out of his chest Alien-style any second now.

What the fuck are you doing, dickwad?! This is not a part of The Arrange—

“Yeah, Richie, I was. Am. Jealous,” he swallowed the lump in his throat, squeezing Richie’s hand tight as he forced himself to continue. “I—that guy was hot and young and I’m not and—”

Richie closed the space between them, crowding Eddie back against the kitchen counter, bending his knees to catch Eddie’s eye.

“Eddie, trust me when I say this, man. You were the hottest person in that entire bar tonight.”

Eddie let out a loud snort, refusing to meet his eye.

“Yeah righ—”

Fingers clasped his scared cheek, forcing his head up.

His breath stuttered at the sheer sincerity in Richie’s gaze.

“I’m serious, Eds. I could barely take my eyes off you all night. I—all I kept thinking about was getting you home and…” he trailed off, his hand breaking from Eddie’s face to drag down his neck, chest, stomach, to finally rest, feather-light on his belt.

A bolt of arousal shot through Eddie’s abdomen.

Along with his mouth, Richie had very, very talented hands too.

But they were getting off track.

Shaking his head, Eddie forced his foggy, horny brain back online, stepping around Richie and trying to catch his breath. This was important, he couldn’t get sidelined with the promise of sex. He had known that this was a long time coming, pretty much ever since they started in the first place.

All good things must come to an end. Literally and figuratively…

“We need to call it off, Richie.”

He watched as Richie’s shoulders sagged, his entire body deflating like a balloon as he drained the last of his beer and shuffled across to the recycling, avoiding Eddie’s eye the entire way.

“Okay, Eds. If that’s what you want. Consider Fight Club disbanded.”

There was that almost robotic voice again. Completely void of emotion. So very hard to read.

“It’s...it’s not what I want,” Eddie found himself admitting before he could think better of it, “but it’s what you need, Rich. What you deserve.”

Richie whirled around suddenly, brow furrowed, eyes shining bright.

“What I deserve ? The fuck does that mean?”

Eddie sighed, not wanting to have to explain himself further but knowing he had to. Shrugging, he ran a hand through his hair, forcing himself to maintain eye-contact.

“You just...you deserve more than my dry hand-jobs and amateur blow-jobs, man. I—I know when we started this it was a way for us to blow off some steam but...you’re out and proud and deserve so much more than our arrangement. So much more than what I…”

He trailed off, eyes lowering.

“I just want what’s best for you, Rich.”

And it’s not me.

“Did it ever occur to you that I might already have what’s best for me?”

Richie didn’t sound robotic, anymore. Now he sounded downright incredulous.

“Uh—”

“No, ‘course it didn’t,” he continued, stepping closer, ducking his head to catch Eddie’s eye, “‘cause instead of asking me, you just went ahead and decided you knew what was best for me. But you’re wrong, Eds. So fucking wrong I—I don’t even know where to begin explain—”

He cut himself off, tilting his head to the ceiling as if asking the heavens for help. Which, for Richie, was really saying something.

Shit.

“Why were you jealous, Eds?”

Richie’s voice was small, now. Resigned. As if fearful of his answer.

“Was it—was it that a hot, young blond was flirting with me and not you?” he asked, tilting his head back down from the ceiling and staring straight into his eyes, laser-focussed.

“Or was it that I was flirting with a hot, young blond and not you?”

Eddie’s heart leapt into his throat.

“I thought you weren’t flirting?” he gasped out, biting his bottom lip.

Richie let out an awful, humourless laugh, his eyes shining in a way that had Eddie’s stomach twisting painfully.

“Okay. Okay, Eddie,” he held up his hands again, taking several steps backwards, out towards the living room, “I hear you loud and clear. Say no more,” he paused, sounding more resigned than Eddie had ever heard him, lifting his shoulder in a one-armed shrug, “‘S like you said. We’re just best friends who get each other off. That can change whenever you want. I get it. Good night.”

Eddie watched as he turned on his heel and began walking out of the room.

“I was jealous that he was flirting with you and laughing with you and...fucking touching you when that was all I wanted to do!”

Richie stopped dead in his tracks.

Eddie scrambled forward, his mouth running away from him, “I was so fucking pissed that some hot fucking himbo got to drape himself all over you, without a care in the world as if you were free and single because—”

The rest of his sentence lodged in his throat.

He swallowed, taking a deep breath, staring at the hard line of Richie’s shoulders, his heart samba drumming in his chest.

Well, you've come this far, Kaspbrak.

“Because I...I want you. All the time. Not—not just since The Arrangement. Since...shit, since I was a kid. And these last few months have given me just a taste of what life would be like if I could...if I could have you. And I...I hate that it’s just made me realise that I want more. Not just hand jobs and blow jobs here and there. I wanna...I wanna flirt with you in public, and flaunt you on my arm and...and fucking kiss you goodnight and good morning and just because I feel like it. I wanna sleep next to you and fuck you and get a fucking dog with you. I want all of it. All of you.”

A horrible, heavy silence followed his words, marred only by Eddie’s gasping breath as he fought to catch it. His heart sank lower and lower with each passing beat. He couldn’t ever remember a time that Richie had gone this long without making some kind of noise, so he did what any good risk analyst would do. He started mentally making contingency plans for how he could salvage their friendship.

I’ll move out immediately. Leave the group chat for a while. It’ll be awkward, but eventually we might be able to—

“Himbo?”

Eddie gaped as Richie finally turned around, staring wide at him, a small but definite smile on his face.

“W-What?”

Richie’s smile grew bigger.

“You called Eric a himbo. I didn’t think you kept up with today’s slang, Eds,” he tilted his head, apparently amused as he started to close the distance between them.

“Really?” Eddie groused, staring at him, “that’s your response to everything I just said? What the fuck, Rich—”

Lips crashed into his, a large hand clutching his cheek and another squeezing his hip, propelling him backwards, colliding them both into the kitchen counter. Eddie let out a rough ‘Oomph!’ but there was no way in hell he was breaking this kiss. Whose dumb idea was it to enforce Pretty Woman rules anyway? To withhold oneself from a mouth as talented as Richie’s? That was just fucking martyrdom.

The kiss was feverish, desperate as they clung to one another, knocking over various knick-knacks that Richie insisted on keeping on the kitchen counters, Eddie’s tongue tracing along Richie’s bottom lip, his teeth nipping just slightly. He sighed as Richie groaned, opening his mouth and deepening the kiss, his hands raking up and down Eddie’s body as if he couldn’t decide where to rest them. Eddie buried his own hands in Richie’s hair, clutching tightly, using the leverage to do a little pushing of his own, shoving him back against the kitchen table.

Richie let himself be manhandled, stumbling backwards, almost tripping over his own feet if Eddie didn’t have a firm grip on him. The back of his legs bumped up against the table with a soft thump. Eddie’s grip left Richie’s hair to fly to his waist, tightening as he urged him up. Richie took a second to get with the program, too preoccupied with sucking on Eddie’s tongue to do much else. But eventually, he scattered the placemats and newspaper and stress-ball from off the table and he heaved himself up, arms reaching down to clasp the back of Eddie’s legs, lifting him up with him until he was kneeling, knees either side of his hips.

The kiss broke.

Their eyes met.

Eddie’s heart skipped a beat when he saw moisture gathered behind Richie’s glasses as he stared at Eddie like he was the greatest gift he’d ever received.

“I’m in love with you, by the way,” Richie murmured, quietly but firmly, as if they were words he had long since lived with, “have been since I was twelve years old. In case that wasn’t clear.”

A little line formed between his eyebrows as he cleared his throat, “It’s—it’s okay, though. You don’t have to say it back or anything, I know it’s a lot and—��

“I’m in love with you too, dickwad. In case that wasn’t clear.”

They stared at one another, twin smiles gracing their faces before Richie leaned forward, capturing his lips once more.

This kiss was softer, slower, but god ...

Eddie could feel thirty years of emotion flowing between them, as if Richie was pouring every ounce of pining, yearning, ache and love that he had ever felt for Eddie into it.

The burn of tears welled up behind his eyes as Richie's hands clasped his cheeks, his thumb gently tracing his scar. They eventually had to break for air, but didn't go far, their lips barely an inch apart as they heaved in breaths, until Eddie leaned forward again, pecking the tiniest of kisses against Richie’s mouth.

Fuck Fight Club and Pretty Woman rules.

Richie leaned up, returning the kiss that was more the pressing of smiles but still had Eddie’s stomach flipping with butterflies.

“God, Eds. I've wanted to kiss you practically my whole life.”

Eddie hummed, raking a hand through his hair and straightening his slightly askew glasses.

“I’m sorry I made you wait so long,” he sighed, resting their foreheads together, “I just...I just knew that kissing you would be too much. Would make me wish too much and hope too much and—”

“Me too,” Richie nodded, bumping their heads gently, practically going cross-eyed as he fought to keep eye contact, “you were right. I wouldn’t have coped with kissing you without constantly wanting more and hating myself for it. Even though I did anyway. Always have,” he laughed a little self-deprecatingly, “but ya know, I’m used to that.”

Eddie’s heart panged.

“Fucking Derry.”

“Fucking Derry,” Richie agreed.

“Dumb Eddie.”

“No,” Richie shook his head, leaning back to properly look at Eddie, “not dumb at all, Eds. We—that shithole fucked both of us up, right? All seven of us. So, don’t feel dumb about not picking up on my giant heartboner for you back in the day, alright? I...I did everything in my power to hide it ‘cause I was scared shitless. Homophobic clowns and Bowers, you know? And now...now we’re so fucking repressed I still marvel we managed to con ourselves into The Arrangement in the first place.”

Eddie snorted, silently agreeing until that snort turned into a groan, this one of discomfort as his knees gave a painful twinge.

“We’re too old to fool around on the kitchen table, Rich…” he breathed, his breath bouncing off Richie’s mouth, “my knees are fucking killing me.”

Richie huffed out a laugh, squeezing his hips and nudging him back down to the ground and shuffling to stand up himself.

“Fuck!” He hissed as his thigh roughly collided with the leg of one of the chairs, knocking it over with a clatter.

“As graceful as ever, Rich,” Eddie teased, reaching down to gently rub his palm along the back of Richie’s thigh, a small smirk spreading across his face.

“If you take me to bed, I can kiss it better. And other places too.”

Richie Tozier had never moved so fast in his entire life. And that included the time he was chased by a murderous space clown.

They collectively collided with no less than four pieces of furniture, one novelty-sized pencil that Richie insisted on keeping in the hallway, and tripped over a copy of Bill’s new book before they made it to bed. But that just meant there was more to kiss better.

They were allowed to do that, now. Kiss and so much more.

And all because they stopped living their lives using the ‘logic’ of two dumb ‘90s movies.

(More Reddie fics)

#reddie #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #it chapter 2 #it 2019 #my fanfiction #decided to post my reddie stuff here #hi lol #smut

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apolloendymion · 1 year

Text

you could swap luka and jeanne in bayonetta 3 and you wouldn't even have to change anything. "oh but how did they have a kid?" i don't give a shit, use your imagination.

HOWEVER i would also really love a version of bayonetta 3 that makes the whole cast into viola's parents. again i don't give a shit who gave birth to her or whatever, and i don't want them to tell us. i want everyone to have raised her, and i want them all to have had some impact on her fighting style and personality.

cereza and jeanne (not luka lmfao) can still have the whole "fated to be together" thing at the end though, that's fine

also i want luka to continue to be Just Some Guy, i hate that he has powers now. i love luka sooooo much and part of his appeal is that he's just a normal dude getting into things he shouldn't be.

lukaon was really weird and random but I'm kind of ok with it, that's just how bayonetta games are. he's pretty and fun. just take away luka's beast form and change lukaon to be unrelated to luka in any way lol. he can still be the source of viola's power in some way though idk, maybe he grants her the faerie form and there's like, symbolism drawn between that and the rest of her non-nuclear family situation. she's adopted in some way by everyone she meets lol

also also how do he and bayo have way more chemistry in the first two games than in the one where they're actually supposed to be in love JFHFKDKD. btw he and rodin were definitely fucking during bayo2 cmon

also also also i don't think viola can carry the series and i don't think she should have the name bayonetta, she just doesn't have the right vibe. HOWEVER if the rest of the cast were alive then it would be kind of cute to see her go off on her own with the support of her polycule of parents.

#bayonetta 3 spoilers #long post #just some thots

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mischief-lies-and-stories · 6 months

Text

Reacting to Animated Marvel Shows 1/?

Taking a break from my Loki rewatch to react to another animated Marvel show because I saw SIGYN in the thumbnail of this episode and got excited. Is Loki going to treat Sigyn poorly? Almost definitely. Is Marvel going to treat both of them poorly? Almost definitely. Am I going to watch it anyway because I'm a glutton for punishment? Absolutely. Let's get started.

[Post-watch edit: Sigyn is NOT in this. It is a case of mistaken identity in the thumbnail because this is the only episode of this show I've watched. I've been bamboozled and I'm still pissed about it. Sorry if I got your hopes up. I got mine up too.]

Spoilers for Avengers: Earth's Mightiest Heroes 2x15

Okay so already in the recap I'm seeing they buried the lead and this is NOT the only episode of this show Loki is in. So once again I will be consuming Loki content backwards. Cool.

Fuck yeah Surtur, crush Amora in your fiery hand!!

Okay recap over

New York always just has tanks casually rolling around

Fuck no I SWEAR TO GOD IF I THOUGHT AMORA WAS SIGYN IN THE THUMBNAIL I'M GONNA BE SO PISSED

Loki that was the most chill groan of pain I've ever heard. Isn't this shit supposed to HURT? It seems like you're more annoyed than anything else.

Fuck I'm sorry y'all. Sigyn is not in this. Goddammit Marvel. IT'S THE VENOM MYTH [not Venom like the character] AND YOU PUT AMORA THERE INSTEAD OF SIGYN??? THE BITCH WHO BETRAYS HIM TIME AND AGAIN INSTEAD OF HIS WIFE. FUCK Y'ALL.

How fucking rude to replace Sigyn with AMORA. Just add to his fucking torture, Jesus.

Amora has Maleficent horns. Bitch take those off you ain't shit. You can't hold a candle to Maleficent. Get the fuck out of here and go get Sig.

Wait why does Thor still get to be buff but not Steve?

Dude the theme goes too hard for this show

The balls on Thor to call his fucking bodybuilder shit a frail form in front of Cap's asthmatic, wrinkly ass

Eew Amora stop touching Loki's face

WHERE IS SIGYN MARVEL I'M STORMING YOUR HEADQUARTERS

SHE JUST GAVE HIM THE ARMOR SIGYN WENT TO GREAT LENGTHS IN THE OLD COMICS TO GET FOR LOKI'S SOUL TO INHABIT (I mean it might be the Destroyer armor but I'm angry anyway so I'm going with the first option)

THEY JUST TIT FOR TAT REPLACED SIGYN WITH AMORA FUCK THIS WHAT THE HELL

Goddammit am I gonna have to write an AU for this episode specifically, where Sigyn shows up and punches Amora's lights out, like Get away from my husband, bitch!

Cap looks like he's both eleven and ninety

Damn it is the Destroyer, but I think Loki possesses it which is the thing that happens in the old comics? Idk, I only know this secondhand.

Steve I'm begging you to lose your temper just once. Thor is towering over you, at least twice your body mass, can still walk with a broken leg and hasn't once complained of the pain, but anytime the fucker opens his mouth it's to complain about how weak he is. Meanwhile you could drop dead any second, polio has been eradicated in the US and you've already gotten it, but you could probably breathe wrong and immediately need an iron lung in 2010 with your luck.

Thor says "That voice" like he didn't grow up for thousands of years with Loki by his side. Like this isn't fucking, I don't know, Ultron, someone you've fought once (I know they tend to fight him more in the comics and animated shows), that's your BROTHER

Tony saving Steve was cute

THOR FUCK OFF DID YOU JUST PLACE THAT VOICE YOU DUMBASS

Good job, Clint. You helped.

Well do we call that Sigynbait? Healthy relationship bait? Whatever it is I'm fucking pissed and I'm going to have to change my intro for this post to reflect it because I don't do clickbait (which you already know because you aren't reading my draft).

#loki #marvel tv shows #avengers: earth's mightiest heroes #avengers: earth's mightiest heroes spoilers #avengers: earth's mightiest heroes 2x15 #animated avengers #still so mad #but that's what i get for only watching one episode of this show

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wildcatofgreen · 2 years

Note

Alt! If you have any more you would like to share.

Send me "alt!" and I'll introduce you to a character I've rped in the past, want to play in the future or are currently playing somewhere else!

Stress.

Something very much known and familiar to the Queen, at this point. Something that she can't quite get away from. Something that's lived with her since her very birth.

She stares at a mirror. Stares at the lifelessness it breeds.

The shapes and forms that lay before her. Incomprehensible. Undeniably so. She doesn't know how many times she's done this. How many times she thought she got over this. How many times she came back to this same damn mirror, and stared at it's ''reflection''.

But of course there was never a reflection.

Just lines. Atoms. Dots she can connect to understand it's true nature. But never anything whole. Not like she when she was younger. Not like when she could still see colors, or even actual shapes and figures.

Does she even remember what a mirror looks like? Does it matter? As if her Kingdom had time to spend on these petty issues.

People died in her streets most of every day, and here she was, moping about something that could never be changed.

Why did she care, after all this time? Her eyesight won't bring those lives back. Her eyesight won't make people happy. It wouldn't fix her country.

It wouldn't cure her father.

If anything, she should be thankful for the gift it brings. For being as excellent of a chemist that she is. She shouldn't spend her days moping when she knows she should be working.

So why does she do it?

Why does she continue to mourn, day in and day out, knowing that nothing will get done if she just stands here in front of this stupid fucking MIRROR--

"Your highness. I've caught a guest for you."

Zarigueya. The one man she can trust in her pathetic life.

By his words, she can only assume that someone's tried to break in again. Steal her crown, possibly break into her alchemy lab. Seemed like petty criminals loved to try and mess with her things. Only ever for their own gain. Those who always broke into her castle never had good intentions.

The fact that her civilians never cared...

"Fine. Bring them here, Friedriech. I suppose my duties can wait another moment more." She sighed, a pain in her chest. The more she ignored her country, the worst is got.

Footsteps echoed from the floor, against the walls. A young voice was heard, along with Zarigueya's own. He reprimanded the woman--she assumes--with his words, but it seemed like she just wouldn't take to them.

Well, what is a Queen to do, if not speak to her subjects? Perhaps she can ward off other rogues if they so wished to partake in the same act she has.

She looked over their way, seeing--...

What?!?!

"Lissen, Queenie, I'm sorry about breakin' an' enterin' or whatever the foxtrot, but like..."

Her words didn't pass through the Queen's ears. She just kept going, and going, but her words, this woman's words, they didn't matter a single bit to her right now.

Her only question right now...

Why could she see her???

She was a cat, a feline, a normal ordinary kitten that one might see walk along her country's streets. Nothing stuck out about her or anything, nothing obvious, anyway. She wasn't an opossum. There's no way she should be able to see her right now.

It... it didn't make sense!!! None of this made sense. She's lived with only seeing magicless creatures for four decades, and suddenly this random cat comes walking in, fully visible??? What???

"Yoooou good, dude? Did I really mess ya up that bad???"

"Uhm,

"I,"

Get yourself together, Darling.

"Pardon me. I had simply... realized something. Something new. It's none of your concern."

She couldn't waste time here any longer.

She needed to head to her lab.

"Miss. Could you do me a favor?"

"I mean... sure? Long as ya dun't throw me in jail or nothin'--"

"Give me a patch of your fur, then leave."

"...Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh--"

"As long as you do this, any charges made against you for attempted theft or unlawful entering of private property will be diminished immediately. I believe this is a fair trade, yes?"

"Uhm... sure thing, weirdo. Guess it's better than the alternative."

#carol's cruisings #asks #ask-the-infiltrators #meme answers #future muse: kit darling #im sure anyone who pays attention to me knew this one was coming right #ive talked about how ive wanted to rp as kit before and like #shes SUPER DUPER INTERESTING #SUCH A COOL CHARACTER WITH SO MUCH DEPTH WITH ALL HER ACTIONS AND EVERYTHING #shes such a good fucking character i LOVE her #theres a reason why shes my face claim y'know

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teenandbeyond · 2 years

Text

Chat Noir x Reader

Why not?

🐱‍👤 Meowvelous Kitten🐱‍👤(Miraculous Ladybug)

Warnings: Cute, Flirty asf, age 16 Adrien, terrible puns bc I'm not Chat Noir, I promise I don't normally write like this (low-key cringe)

You were new to Paris, but you had a flirtatious black cat to give you a warm welcome.

☆*: .｡. .｡.:*☆☆*: .｡. .｡.:*☆☆*: .｡. .｡.:*☆

"[Name]! Start unpacking before it gets late!" Your mother called from downstairs.

"What makes you think I'm not?" You called back from your mattress.

"You're laying down right now, aren't you?"

You glanced to the boxes surrounding you like a wall and slowly responded, "Um.....no?"

"Start unpacking, sweetheart. I promise you'd rather finish quickly than be unpacking all week."

You sighed, rolling up your sleeves, you got to work.

☆*: .｡. .｡.:*☆☆*: .｡. .｡.:*☆☆*: .｡. .｡.:*☆

"Done!" You happily exclaimed, "Gosh, I need to take a walk, I feel stuffy."

You practically skipped down the steps after freshening up.

You sharply turned the corner into the kitchen, "Hey, mom? Can I take a walk? I promise I won't go too far."

Your mother turned around from the box of silverware, "Sure, sweetheart."

"Just don't stay out too long, it's dangerous at night," your father walked in from the living room.

You laughed quietly, "I won't, Pop."

You grabbed a light jacket and left out the door, wondering where to go first.

"I guess I take a walk around the block," you flipped your hood on.

Your boots thudded against the pavement as you walked, "It's really peaceful at night..."

You silently took in the view of Paris at night, well until the silence was interrupted by a weirdo in a carrot costume.

"Hey, you, right there!"

You glanced around, before remembering you were the only one here and sighing, "I haven't even been gone five minutes."

The massive carrot pointed at you, "I believe everyone should eat their vegetables!"

You blinked, "Okay," you continued sarcastically, "How radishing."

You shook your head and decided to turn back in the direction towards home, only to be blocked by a broccoli person and a mushroom person.

"Vegetables! Vegetables! Vegetables!"

You furrowed your brows at the many voices, a veggie crowd was forming, "Um, did I walk in on a veggie cult or something? I didn't know people were that determined..."

"I'm going to make you like your vegetables and join us!" The villain laughed and pointed a wand at you...a uh...squash wand.

"Hah!"

But you didn't change, they tried again.

"Why isn't it working?!"

You crossed your arms, "Because I like veggies already, dude. That's not going to work on me."

They growled in anger, oops, mom told you to be nicer to people, sorry mom.

"Why can everyone be like you and enjoy veggies?"

"Because nobody carrot all," a voice responded in a teasing matter.

"Ladybug and Chat Noir! Give me your miraculous!" The carrot charged at them.

You sighed, "Mom and Dad should have listened to Aunt May when she said this wasn't a tv show set in Paris."

You yelped when you were suddenly grabbed, you punched at the chest of whatever male it was.

You were set down a minute later in an alleyway, your eyes met amused green ones.

"You could've warned me you were saving me. I could've seriously hurt you," you glared.

He chuckled, "Not really, I barely felt anything, kitten."

"Kitten? I'm not a kitten."

"You're as cute as one, especially when you're angry," he smirked.

You raised a brow, a disbelieving smirk on your face, "Are you flirting with me?"

"How could I not?"

"I suppose I can't blame you, I'm hard to resist," you smiled.

"You-" he was interrupted by a call on his staff.

Chat Noir, where are you? I still need help here.

You raised a brow, "With vegetables?"

Chat Noir sighed, "Coming, M'lady."

Ending the call, he looked back at you, "Stay here, okay?"

You step close enough to be inches away from him, playfully flicking his bell, "I could easily go home myself. You just want an excuse to talk to me more, don't you?"

He gives a shy smile, "I-I...It's not like--"

"Mhm. Go save the night from the evil vegetable cult, Chat, I'll still be here."

He laughed, "I will [Nam]-Kitten."

He was about to say your name...How did he know your name?

☆*: .｡. .｡.:*☆☆*: .｡. .｡.:*☆☆*: .｡. .｡.:*☆

"I thought you were supposed to be taking me home?"

You and Chat lowered onto a surface with his staff, "I will, I promise, I just want to show you something."

You looked around in awe, slowly walking around, "Are we...on the Eiffel tower?"

"Yes. Beautiful, isn't it?"

You smiled and stopped, looking out at the city, "I've never been here before--Very, the view's incredible."

"I like coming here every night, it's so peaceful," he walked over to you.

"Well, outside of veggie cults."

He laughed, "It wasn't a veggie cult, it was an Akumatized person."

You paused, trying to remember the articles and "episodes" you saw.

"Oh."

"Yes, unfortunately, this is a regular thing."

"Ah, well, at least your heroic physique makes sense," you glanced him over.

You could see his cheeks darken at the unexpected comment, "Huh?"

"You pull off the suit well, latex looks sexy on you," you teased.

He recovered quickly, "Is that your type of thing?"

You hooked your finger on the zipper of his suit, "Could be, we'll just have to see, kit-kat."

Even though as Chat Noir this flirting deal was no problem, inside, a flustered Adrien could only think one thing.

I have to see them at school again tomorrow, I'm in trouble.

But, trouble's kind of my thing.

What a meowvelous Kitten~

#chat noir #miraculous ladybug #animated shows #chat noir x reader #miraculous x reader

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ptergwen · 3 years

Note

you know that one scene in ffh when people keep knocking on the door while fury is trying to speak to peter? could you maybe do something like that but instead it’s peter and stark reader wanting some alone time (you can make it smut or fluff idm!) also, i am so in love with your work it’s amazing :)❣️

knock before you enter

w/c: 1.3k

warnings: implied smut, dirty jokes, swearing

a/n: i went a lil overboard because i was having too much fun :,) and i kinda combined the two i hope that’s okay!

you let out a breath of relief as peter finally presses his lips to yours. he grins at that, his hands continuing to roam your body while you kiss. it’s a needy kiss, one you’ve been waiting the whole day to share.

you’d thought europe of all places would give you the opportunity to explore each other more. you’re away from your overbearing father, you don’t have team responsibilities. there was one mishap with a water monster nearly destroying the city. you both managed to fight it off together. tony was right to make you bring your suit, and may encouraged her nephew to do the same. the stark’s and parker’s think alike.

most of the pestering you’ve faced this trip has come from your teachers and fellow classmates. whether it’s mr. dell assigning work or flash trying to film you two for a livestream, you and peter can’t get a moment alone. that’s about to change. you’re in peter’s hotel room after a fun yet highly supervised day in venice.

most kids are getting ready for bed, at mr. harrington’s request. he’s adamant on everyone having a good night sleep before the walking tour you’re taking tomorrow. you and peter plan to do everything but sleep, however.

“you taste like toothpaste,” peter mumbles against your mouth, arms winding around your back. “is that a good or bad thing?” you giggle and tug at his undone curls. that elicits a high pitched whine from him. “depends on who you ask. me personally, i think it’s sexy.” he’s laying over you on his bed, your fingers tangling in his locks. “open up, then,” you practically purr. peter happily obliges and resumes his kissing.

right when his tongue glides over your lower lip, there’s a knock on the wall.

“i thought you said ned wouldn’t be back…” your words trail off when peter starts to kiss down your neck. “for a while,” you add, softer. “he won’t. last time i checked, he was with betty,” peter replies and effortlessly finds your sweet spot. he nudges it with his nose, making a smile spread across your face. “ok, keep going,” you pull on the roots of his hair gently. peter pecks at your lips. “gotcha, baby.”

he’s kissing his way back to your sweet spot when there’s more knocking, this time much louder. with quirked eyebrows, peter detaches his lips from your skin. “um… hello?” he hesitantly answers. “finally. i was ready to come kick down your door, you idiot,” mj speaks through the thin wall. you squeeze your eyes shut in annoyance, not saying anything. “what do you want, mj? it’s late,” peter sighs back.

“so what? i know you’re not sleeping,” mj insists, leaning against the wall. “i can hear everything. hey, y/n.” peter’s face tints a light shade of pink. you make wide eyes up at him. “hi, i guess. you good over there?” her lips form a line. “i was until the horrendous sounds of parker clapping your cheeks disturbed my reading.” peter grips at your waist with a pout.

“what? we weren’t- i- i didn’t-“ “spare me the details,” mj sharply cuts in, opening whatever mystery novel she recently bought. “i don’t care what you do, as long as you do it quietly. deal?” seeing as peter is too flustered to speak, you take over again. “yeah, sorry. we’ll tone it down. goodnight, em.” “ciao,” she says before returning to her book.

peter shakes his head, fully burying his face in your neck. “that was embarrassing. she’s so…” “nosy,” you finish for him. your fingers brush back some hair that flopped over his forehead. “at least she’s not telling on us or whatever.” he puffs air out of his cheeks, placing a kiss under your chin. “true. you wanna pick up where we left off?” “ugh, yes,” you instantly groan.

your lips are colliding with peter’s again, just like that. it isn’t for too long. his hands settle on your stomach and under your shorts, then you hear someone banging on the door. they talk before either you or peter can tell them to fuck off.

“y/n, is that you?” brad questions, your face twisting in confusion. “uh, yeah. how’d you know?” peter bites the inside of his cheek while brad converses. “i stopped by your room. betty said you might be here… with him.” the him in question is peter, who chuckles bitterly. “what’s up, buddy? we’re kind of in the middle of something. i’m sure you knew that, too.”

“i didn’t, but thanks for sharing,” brad sarcastically responds. “y/n said she’d give me her notes on one of the da vinci exhibits.” peter cocks his head to the side. “she did?” he wonders, looking over at you. “you did?” “it was either that or help him myself,” you explain and drag your fingers along the back of his neck soothingly. “the kid doesn’t leave me alone.”

peter nods, wrapping a protective arm around your middle. “she’ll give you them tomorrow, brad. isn’t it past your bedtime?” “point taken,” brad scoffs and heads back to his room. you draw peter in closer to you. “thanks, pete. hopefully, that’ll be our last guest for the night.” he kisses both your cheeks with a grin. “where were we, mio amore?”

“ooh, i love it when you speak italian,” you giggle, peter cupping your face in his hands.“grazie, bellissima.” he winks and earns a puzzled face from you. “bellissima?” “that means beautiful.” instead of responding with words, you use your mouth to move on his. peter happily kisses back and lets your tongues intertwine. things quickly heat up, peter slipping your shorts down your legs and you lifting his pajama shirt.

you’re both only half undressed and running off broken up kisses, but so desperate. you part your legs for peter, his fingers hooking in the waistband of your panties. “think you can keep your oath of silence?” he teases and nips at your covered collarbone. “the real question is, can you?” you challenge. peter doesn’t get the chance to answer because the door suddenly flies open.

there stands ned, his mouth agape at the sight of a shirtless peter undressing you. you’re the first to notice. you see over peter’s shoulder and gasp. concern covers his features. “what is it, baby? do you want-“ “ned!” you whisper yell. his concern becomes shock. “you want ned?” “no, peter! he’s right there!” teeth sinking into your lip, you point behind him. peter looks and surely enough, there’s his best friend rendered speechless in the doorway.

“dude, what the hell are you doing here?” peter squeaks, you grabbing your shorts from next to you. he turns around to shield you while you put them back on. “aren’t you supposed to be with betty?” “we, um, finished,” ned gulps in response. “finished what- oh.” peter scratches the back of his neck as it hits him. “yuck, ned. a gentleman never tells.” “says you! this is my room too, you know,” he defends himself, you moving out from behind peter.

“and betty’s room is also mine. consider us even,” you hand peter his t-shirt with a satisfied smirk. he murmurs a thank you and throws it back on. ned uncomfortably shifts from foot to foot in the doorway. “that’s fair… are you leaving now?” “i should before mr. harrington makes his rounds,” you reluctantly decide. “i liked it better when people actually knocked,” peter says under his breath, standing to give you a goodnight hug.

“it’s not even this bad at home. i’ll take my dad and friday spying on us over a walk of shame any day,” you exhale as peter pulls you into his chest. hugging back by his torso, you give him an innocent kiss on the cheek. his lips brush your forehead. “maybe we’ll have better luck tomorrow. should we try again, same time?” a familiar and irritated voice yells through the wall. mj.

“please god, no!”

#peter parker #peter parker fluff #peter parker smut #peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you #peter parker fic #peter parker fanfiction #tom holland #tom holland fluff #tom holland smut #tom holland imagine #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #marvel

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warmau · 3 years

Text

summer is supposed to be a time of happiness, of adventure and goofing around under the constant sunlight

and so when you start summer, you are all smiles and big dreams! unfiltered energy to do whatever you want!

and whatever you want is definitely

NOT spending even a day (actually three) in the hospital after you end up falling off your bike and breaking your ankle like the absolute unlucky person that you are

"that is so gnarly dude, my condolences"

chenle mutters, skateboard under hand and shaking his head

jisung nods in agreement beside him - still wearing his helmet even after your nurse gives him a look about it

"hey, at least you're getting all this free candy?"

jaemin motions, picking up a 'get better soon' box filled with chocolates from your uncle

he pops one in his mouth and haechan swats his hand away before he can steal any more

mark sighs and gives you a sad smile, renjun puts the flowers they all bought together in a vase by your bed

it's all a little too much - and you tell them it's fine, it's just an ankle and you'll be out of here in no time

they all agree, except for jeno who is sitting at the foot of your bed with his volleyball uniform still on and his duffel bag between his legs on the floor

you keep throwing glances his way because you have never seen jeno so quiet in your life

mark - who is the brains of your friend group (oddly enough) - catches the looks of worry

so he does what any good friend would do, he tells all the remaining members he saw a machine with snacks out in the hall and they all excuse themselves with 'see you soon!'s' out of your hospital room

jeno doesn't move a muscle

"how was practice? jaemin looks happy so im guessing you guys are going to be in great shape when school starts again?"

there isn't any response and jeno is almost hidden with the way his head is hanging low and his hands are clasped on his knees

"jeno-"

"it's my fault you're in here."

you puff your cheeks and cross your legs

"oh please! it's my own fault! is that why you're acting all sad?"

he doesn't answer and the lack of communication is making you nervous more than it is making you angry

jeno and you are close, to the point of knowing each other's parents by their first names and who your first kisses were back in middle school

he has never been one to lack the words for a conversation - at least not with you

you wish you could scoot closer and pinch his cheek or poke his forehead

but your cast is restricting movement and these days touching jeno feels......different

"i should have stopped you before you went down that hill, i was there and i couldn't save you-"

"jeno, im not made of glass and plus im not even that hurt!"

he finally shifts so he can look at your leg, propped up on the pillow and covered in its cast that has been brightly decorated with signatures and doodles

the way his gaze travels up your hospital gown and to you, you know he isn't registering anything you're saying

you sit up a little and hide the wince behind another set of promises to jeno that you are ok and you don't need him to blame himself when he has so much more going on on his plate

"you and jaemin are going to graduate after the upcoming semester and that means it's your last year with the volleyball team. you should focus on practice and being the best you can be - when i can get myself up on those crutches ill come visit to see how you guys are doing!"

he seems to soften, the sharp angles of his face that have just gotten more handsome as he ages still somehow manage to look sweet and youthful

he picks his duffel bag up off the floor and leans toward you like he's going to push some hair from your face or kiss your forehead

he's done both before - but this is the first time the gesture has made the blood in your veins stop and something imaginary clog in the back of your throat

instead of doing either jeno seems to buffer as he hovers above you, reaching out to fluff the edge of your pillow

"ok, but also you have to be serious about your recovery."

he pulls back and the same concern as before washes over him, his vocal tone lowers

"don't go doing anything dangerous."

you point to your cast with a half-smile

"i don't think that's going to be possible."

you get discharged from the hospital the next day, not that it brightens your summer any further, you basically just end up trading the hospital bed for the four walls of your own room

the group chat explodes with more well wishes

but you change the subject, all the pity makes you cringe

'how was volleyball practice?'

several people start typing - except for jeno

jaemin's reply comes first, 'it was good!'

followed by jisung's, 'but.....jeno didn't show up...'

renjun adds 'he said he wasn't feeling well - don't worry!'

you furrow your eyebrows

'has anyone visited him? does he need medicine?'

haechan texts something before anyone can really stop him, 'im pretty sure he's just being sad - if he had the stomach flu we all be sick. we eat together everyday.'

'haechan!' mark replies as jaemin sends a shaking his head emoji

'wait. jeno is sad?'

it goes silent and then suddenly jeno is typing

'im not sad, im fine. ill be at practice tomorrow.'

you let out a sigh you didn't know you were holding in

it's only natural that you, as jeno's friend, would be worried about him. at least, that's what you tell yourself.

to be honest - now that you're not out enjoying summer - you're more than ever stuck with your own thoughts and the most recent string of them is: what changed between you and jeno?

for years it had been easy going fun, the simple enjoyment of each others company

but ever since it started getting warm enough for t-shirts - there has been a shift in the central point of you and jeno's friendship

you are suddenly hyper-aware of how strong the outline of his arms looks.

you notice when he wears different cologne.

you see the way other people turn their heads to look at him when he walks by, the way they pick up on the handsome features that make up your best friend

and you can't help but feel something cruel and cold fester in the pit of your stomach when you think jeno might one day look back at that stranger ..... and notice their features too

you sit up, which is a mistake because you shift your foot and it makes you yelp, but you look at your phone again

the gc has moved onto topics of video games so you message jeno outside of it

'hey, if something is wrong you can tell me'

he reads the message and doesn't reply. you tell yourself that's totally fine.

a couple of weeks pass before anyone lets you limp out of the house by yourself

you've mastered crutches and when you really need something, one of your friends delivers it

although recently, it seems to be everyone but jeno

everything otherwise seems normal

no one really talks about volleyball - which is fine, you just assume they're busy practicing

and so you hobble down to the school gym that's still open for the student-athletes during the break and are secretly happy to bump into mark who helps you with the stairs

"by the way, don't be upset with him ok."

mark says before you enter the gym - you look at him with a raised eyebrow

"upset with who?"

mark swallows - just tilts his head and when you go inside you look everywhere, you see everyone, but you don't see jeno

"im guessing he isn't in the locker rooms?"

you ask mark with a deflated tone of voice, mark shakes his head

"he hasn't been to practice at all."

you can understand why no one had told you.

like mark said, they knew you'd get on his case about it - which is what you plan on doing when you end up on his front porch

jeno comes down with messy hair and basketball shorts on. he's not wearing a shirt and immediately you think you lose the ability to speak

"you shouldn't be walking around just yet."

he says and you frown

"it's been a while now, plus im not here about me. im here to ask what you think you're doing."

jeno crosses his arms and you hate the involuntary flex of his muscles.

actually, you don't hate it, you hate that you stare when you don't mean to.

he ushers you into the backyard and motions for you to sit on one of the patio chairs

he's still being the same thoughtful guy you grew up with but you're beyond confused

"are you quitting volleyball - why aren't you going to practice?"

"im not quitting. i just don't feel like it - i don't feel like doing anything."

you reach out with one of your crutches to poke him, he makes a face

"im the one with a broken ankle - im the one who gets to be depressed. c'mon, tell me what's really wrong."

jeno falls silent, you notice that he hasn't completely shaved and there's a bit of a shadow on his jawline

you swallow the sudden dryness in your throat

this is your best friend since you were kids. you are literally not going to think anything but pure thoughts from now on. ok. stop. don't you dare.

"that's the thing. you have a broken ankle, you can't even go to the beach and im supposed to do what - enjoy the summer without my best friend?"

he throws his hands up and you see an expression you barely ever get from jeno form on his face

"i could have stopped you from being reckless, i could have made sure you weren't in that stupid cast and that you could-"

"jeno!"

you cut him off and he looks at you, the momentary distraction of your newfound attraction to him dissipates as you grind your teeth

"i told you that it's no way your fault i got hurt - plus it's not like you personally broke my ankle and im not suffering torturous pain. things happen like this in life - don't beat yourself up about it!"

you wish you could get up to make your point, but the best you manage is a shaky lift grabbing onto your chair

jeno gets up to help you but you shoo him away

"it hurts me more to see you moping around on my behalf! did you think about that, how it would make me feel to hear that my injury is making you slack on the things you like?!"

he blinks and you suddenly feel a rush of different things

one is that you hate how he seems to be so full of pity for you, another is that you hate how he's kind of right about this summer being pointless now that you can barely move, but the last is that because of all these things happening you can't even properly wrap your head around the fact that you think you like him

and not in the platonic way you'd been beating on liking him your whole life

so to add this to the pile - you take your crutches and give him a stern look

"just start going to practice. i told you when i was in the hospital, i'll always come to cheer you on when i can. that doesn't change for me, broken ankle or not because you're my best friend and i want to see you succeed."

and i love you

you don't say the last part, you bite your lip back and although you can't storm off in your usual fiery passion, you make it out of his backyard and let a heaviness fall off your chest as you somehow manage to get back home

the sound of messages incoming on your phone are drowned away by your tiredness

i just want to be a source of happiness for you, i never wanted to be your burden jeno.

the next day there's a knock on your bedroom door - you tell them to come in and go wide-eyed when you see jeno there

he's in his volleyball uniform and he's holding something in his hands

"jen-"

"im sorry. you were right, i can't use you as an excuse to be lazy anymore. i brought these."

he hands you the tupperware of cookies and you are about to ask him if he made these when jeno's familiar, warm laughter fills your room

"i didn't make them, they're chipsahoy but i thought the gesture could count."

you look down at them - he's so silly.

you look back up at jeno's smile - i really love him.

"good. now go have fun at practice, ill visit you guys later in the week."

he comes closer to you and suddenly the air in the room stills, he leans over and you think you can feel the temperature of your skin rise to an unsafe level when he hooks his pinkie with yours

"promise?"

you nod and he disappears with a wave. you sit in your bed and hold the cookies.

maybe breaking my ankle and not spending every minute around him might actually have been a good thing.

as you promised, you show up to practice at the end of the week.

jeno is there and he lights up when he sees you, helps you with your crutches and everyone gathers around to tell you how thankful they are that you went and got jeno to comeback

jisung randomly sputters a, "the only person who can control him is you. it's like he's your boyfriend."

mark catches the look on your face before jeno does and flicks jisung on the head, "what do you know about dating - c'mon lets go get water for everyone."

the comment swims around your head for the entire time you're there - and you don't know it, but it swims around jeno's as well

when practice is over, jaemin offers to drive everyone home - no one agrees because they're probably terrified of his driving

and jeno says he'll be the one to walk you home

it's nothing unusual, you've been with jeno throughout your whole childhood, but there seems to be a weird pause among your group when he announces it

when you and him set off toward your house, mark does something weird - he winks at you and you take a second before

oh - he knows i like jeno doesn't he?

you can only go at the of the equivalent of snail's pace, and jeno matches it without complaint

you don't say anything and it makes it that much harder to distract the chanting about how good he looks and how you can't believe you're that person who fell in love with their best friend and how this summer is so confusing its almost vomit-inducing and-

"hey, would it be weird if i liked you?"

it feels like the earth itself has been dropped from the shoulders of atlas, you think suddenly all the gravity has gone and disappeared

you stop and look at jeno who sets his bag down on the asphalt

the boy you met when you were young is suddenly not a boy anymore, his shadow is tall and mature against the setting summer sun

"liked me?"

he scratches the back of his neck and then nods

"i had said i can't use your injury as my excuse to be lazy. i actually wasn't being lazy, i was just going through a hard time because i thought i had hurt the person most important to me in the world."

your heart thumps against your chest so hard it kind of hurts

"me?"

"yeah, and i realized your friend can be the most important person in the world - but i think it's different the way i feel about now......i like you."

"i love you."

you blurt it out before you can even really stop yourself, jeno looks shocked for about a second before it breaks into a big smile on his face

the one you haven't seen in what seems like forever, the one that feels genuine and right

"oh cool, i actually love you too - i just didn't know if i should say it-"

"can you come over here and kiss me, these crutches are kind of making it hard for me."

no one is surprised when you and jeno announce in the gc that you're going on your first date

mark tries to act it, but literally everyone is like finally - you do ask mark if he knew all along about how you felt and he goes i knew how you felt and how jeno felt. you two are open books.

the date isn't as thrilling as you both might have wanted, the broken ankle is still kind of getting in the way, so jeno takes you out to the lake and does all the rowing himself

you offer, since it's your hands, but he insists he can do it himself and he does. seriously, he's way stronger than you remember him being a year ago.

you guys eat on the grass when you get back and he effortlessly picks you back up onto your feet, you swoon everytime but try not to show it

and when jeno drops you off - he kisses you again, and this time he doesn't have to have you tell him to - he picks the perfect moment

being his best friend and dating him doesn't change too much, it's just you're now holding hands everytime you hangout and you're kissing in the back of jaemin's car much to his disappointment and well

it's just made everything easier - you're not wrapped in your head about what's different, because nothing is, you just are honest with how you both feel

jeno and jaemin even get visited by scouts for volleyball and when jeno tells you about it you try to jump up to hug him and he's like bABE CAST but too late you're like OW and he's like oh god oh god let me hold you

you're like jeno let's learn to bake cookies for real so we don't have to buy chipsahoy to give each other and he's down for it but then you both almost set the kitchen on fire and call renjun like ten times to ask about the recipe and basically you are both banned from baking again

your cast gets filled in with hearts from jeno...you let him lay his head on you when he's playing games on his phone and you're like watching him play and when you get bored you're like let's kiss instead

jeno leaves all his hoodies 'accidentally' over at your house because he knows you like wearing them but won't admit it outloud

the summer continues on until suddenly it's colder outside and the reality of school coming back dawns on everyone

and also, you get the date for when your cast will be removed

jeno asks if you're going to keep it once it gets cracked - you say you might, you woulnd't want to lose all those cute hearts he scribbled on them and he just smiles and kisses your forehead

"i'd scribble all the hearts everywhere for you."

"that's cute, we should save that for when we get married."

and you do save it for then - years later when you're showing jeno the design on your invitations

beside both your names is a cluster of different hearts, all doodled by jeno himself

"how'd you get these?"

"kept a part of my broken cast."

he stares at you with wide eyes

"im joking, i got them off a napkin you doodled on when we were at dinner."

jeno pokes his tongue out at you and you giggle as he wraps his arms around your waist as to not let you get away

the softness of your love and silliness of your friendship is still there

it'll always be there - through all the broken ankles, casts, and doodled hearts to come.

#weeeeeee now i only have two neos left #nct dream au #jeno au #nct dream scenarios #jeno scenarios #nct dream imagines #jeno imagines #lee jeno #nct dream #sfw #nostalgia au #nct dream x reader #jeno x reader

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chaotic-kitty · 2 years

Note

Hey! Are you comfortable writing about pregnancy? If you are, I would like to request the FTLOG Lis and an MC that is pregnant

It's fine if your not comfortable writing this request!

Have a good day/afternoon/evening/night!

Hello!! Thank you so much for your request. I am more than comfortable writing this. Sorry it took so long….I hope this is what you wanted. I’ll break it down into a few different parts because it’s going to be long! Sorry for any mistakes and have a good day/afternoon/evening/night to you too.💕

For The Love Of Gods M6 with a pregnant MC! Part 1

Warnings: Contains topics of pregnancy/childbirth, not too graphic though. Slight angst. Mention of past parental neglect & trauma.

The MC is g/n! Nothing about their gender is mentioned, they are just a being that’s able to be pregnant.

Part 2 | Part 3

When you tell him he is over the moon!! (Pun definitely intended)

He would be super protective. He will kinda just hover over you more than usual.

Has been around for literally a MILLENIA, he knows a thing or two about pregnancy/childbirth. Will do extra reading though to make sure he is as prepared as he can be.

Will be very stressed about the idea of being a parent, he didn’t have parents (technically?) so how is he supposed to know what to do? He won’t tell you about it as to not worry you.

You’ll probably figure it out and if you do he’ll be hesitant to tell you because he doesn’t want to stress you out.

He loves you and despite his reservations, he is ecstatic to be building a life and a family with you.

He is in awe of you tbh. He thinks your so amazing to be going through this.

Will tell everyone! (when you’re ready) He’s so happy to be able to do this with you!

On the days you’re really tired (especially later on in the pregnancy) he will use his powers (with your consent) to lull you into a perfect sleep.

Gives you an entire collection of the best and comfiest maternity pillows known to deity kind. You’ll be sleeping the best you possibly could be given the situation.

Will also be there with reassurance and comfort on the days where you aren’t feeling great and/or are feeling insecure either in your own body or by the prospect of parenthood ect.

If you are feeling dysphoric he again will do what he can to ease that and help you through it.

My dude is legit the God of The Moon, so when you wake up at stupid hour o’clock with bizarre cravings, he’s likely to be already awake and would be willing to get you/make you whatever weird food you want.

Makes sure to stock up on EVERYTHING you might need! Both for the pregnancy and after.

Loves picking out names and decorating a nursery and all that other baby prep.

He makes a list of potential baby names that he carries around with him.

Will just lay there rubbing your stomach and talking to the baby.

Will support whatever form of childbirth you wanna go with and will be there every step of the way in whatever capacity you need.

And he will support you in your decision to either breastfeed or bottle feed the baby. Whichever one you chose depends no you. Will help either way.

He will make sure he is present for the birth. If you need a hand to squeeze? He’s got two. If you have like a C-section, he will sit with you and comfort you during the procedure.

You need anything, he will make sure you get it.

He will cry during the delivery. He’ll try and hold back until he knows you and the baby/babies are okay! Once he knows that, he’ll let the tears just flow.🥺

When the baby comes? Omg he’s in love. 🥰

And if you have a birth with multiple babies? He’s that many more times happy.

Though he is also that many times more concerned with your wellbeing.

Insists you rest unless you are needed to do something he legit is not capable of.

You carried them for 9 months an birthed them, the least he can do as their father is actually lend a hand. So he will change nappies, burp them, feed them (if necessary) without hesitation.

He honestly loves you and them sooo much and is so elated to be embarking on this journey with you.

When you tell them you’re pregnant, they are shocked!

They’re happy but they are in total disbelief.

They never really saw themself as being a parent. Both because they never thought they’d ever be good enough to be in a relationship but also because they didn’t get love from their parents. They have no idea what to do and how to act.

Puts them a little on edge for a bit. They are the Deity of Intellect! The one thing they know is all the stuff they know! They know from a logical point of view how parenthood is supposed to go but now that they are here, they can’t help but realise how much they don’t actually know. So they will start to feel very insecure and unsure of themself and will need you to reassure them and talk to them ect.

Despite the initial shock, they are thrilled!

Will be somewhat overbearing to begin with. They know a lot about pregnancy/childbirth and will be constantly telling you everything they know on the subject to help you.

Will try to steer you away from foods/beverages that are deemed “unhealthy” for pregnancy and will be hesitant to get you the food you crave if they think it’s too greasy or full of too much of the wrong ingredients

They’ll instead try to get you to eat all of these dishes that are rich in proteins and vitamins to make sure you and the baby are healthy and thriving.

They will also put together a schedule that outlines when to take naps ect. And will make sure you only have THE BEST pregnancy related products.

You will have to tell them to rein it in eventually. They will be very apologetic, they aren’t trying to be on controlling, they are just wanting to make sure everything is perfect and that they are doing everything “right” and “by the book”. After a serious conversation where you tell them what you actually need, they will adjust their behaviour accordingly.

For the rest of the pregnancy they will be more relaxed.

They will get you whatever weird food you’re craving and might actually try some.

They will also try and be there for you whenever you need. They aren’t really the greatest at emotions so this will be a lil difficult for them but they are wiling to do anything for you.

Will hold you when you need them, they’ll reassure you that you are doing a great job and that you’ll be a good parent ect.

If you start feeling dysphoric, they know that feeing all too well and will do whatever you need to calm those feelings down.

Is really proud!! And will casually mention in conversation that you are pregnant.

You two will spend hour picking out potential baby names and going through ideas as to what they would like to be called by your baby. (As they are nonbinary.)

Will talk to the baby and will end up rambling about some random topic. Will be so ecstatic when they feel them kick. <3

Is sooo exited to see who their child becomes. They just kinda sit there wondering what they’ll like or won’t like, and so forth.

Will be on board with whatever form of childbirth you wanna go with. They will talk your head off giving you all the statistics on the different forms of childbirth and what the different risks are ect.

Is also supportive on whatever method of feeding you want to go with. Again they will give you like a list of pros and cons for all options and will educate you both on different products and techniques relating to different methods.

Will take a very logical approach to designing the nursery. From the general lay out, to what should go where, maybe even going as far as to tell you the science behind different colours and why you should paint the nursery a certain colour. (In a non domineering way)

When it’s GO TIME, they are prepared!! You guys made sure to make a birthing plan.

Will do whatever you need them too. Will be there to hold you and comfort you.

Is honestly stunned into silence when the baby/babies are out. They’re perfect.🥰

In that moment all of their fears both disappear and come full force. They are so overcome with emotion. And in this moment they can help but wonder why their parents didn’t love them like this.

Looking at their kid/s, they can’t fathom the idea of treating them the way they were treated by their parents.

Will not let their own trauma negatively effect their child/children. They make a vow then and there to love and protect them though whatever they may face.

Is super hands on after the birth. Will make sure you rest!! They have everything handled! (Well, as handled as a new parent can be)

Is not afraid to get their hands dirty. This is their kid too, its an equal responsibility, one they are more than happy to oblige.

As time goes on, they know that as long as you two are together, your both gonna be fine. 💕

#fictif #fictif ftlog #fictif for the love of gods #fictif fanfic #fanfic writer #fictif astrellio #fictif vidas #ftlog headcanons #ftlog astrellio #ftlog vidas #fictif headcanons #anon ask #request

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nobodyfamousposts · 3 years

Text

My-Crack-ulous: Aku-Maid

In which I am a horrible person...

No seriously. Don’t read this.

For @mermain123, for bringing up the cursed image that started this mess in the first place.

Mermain: i said i was suffering

Mermain: i didn't want you to make the internet suffer

Me: That sounds like the internet’s problem.

Also for @bloody-writes. You know why... ; )

_________________________

Hawk Moth was a supervillain who had been terrorizing Paris for the better part of two years.

But no one could really argue that not all of his ideas have been good. Or well thought out. Or in any way sensible even.

Like the time he akumatized a baby.

Or the time he akumatized a girl to transform people into exact replicas of herself.

Or the fact he keeps akumatizing Mr. Ramier for going on 29 times at this point…

Or the other time he akumatized a baby…

Times that he destroyed Paris. Times that he nearly destroyed the world. Times that he gave people powers that were completely contradictory to the goals of getting the Miraculous he was after by erasing the heroes from existence or transforming them in ways that made the Miraculous inaccessible.

But none of his akumatizations had ever gotten him as much hate, caused as much misery, were were ultimately as pointless as this most recent incident.

Aku-maid.

It was known the instant she was akumatized. As soon as she was transformed, a wave of power enveloped the city. And within that wave, half of the people of Paris were transformed as well.

…the male half.

Her power was to transform all the men of Paris. She didn’t even have a weapon or attack that did it, it just happened almost instantaneously. All men suddenly found themselves changed.

Or rather, their outfits…

“Ah!”

“What the hell—!?”

“I can’t get it off!”

One by one, every male in Paris suddenly found themselves in a much different state of attire. What had just been a normal day full of various styles and appearances had all suddenly become very…frilly.

“WHY AM I A MAID?!”

Much as implied her namesake, the akuma’s power involved transforming whatever any man was wearing into some variation of a maid outfit.

Every man.

All over Paris.

From Andre Bourgeois, who has refused to leave his office to make an official statement…

“ANDRE!” Audrey shouted, banging on the door. “Get out here this instant!”

“But, honey, I can’t be seen like this!”

To Roger Raincomprix, who has tried to continue his normal duties despite the…change of uniform…

“Stop in the name of the law!” Roger shouted, reaching into his pockets in an automatic reaction to try to get his handcuffs. While the dress he was wearing did still have pockets, the only item they procured was a cleaning rag, which was notably less threatening as the suspect in question stared for a moment before deciding to take off.

“HEY!”

And yes, even to…

“I’m a Macrophage!” Adrien gushed happily as he lifted his lengthy skirt to give a twirl.

…even to Adrien Agreste, who was apparently the only one to find anything pleasant about the current crisis.

Nino stared.

“Dude. Seriously?”

“I’ve always wanted to cosplay!”

Nino, having been long-since exposed to his friend’s deep love for anime in its many forms, at least knew what a Macrophage was. But even so, he couldn’t help but feel there was something odd about the way Adrien took to the long pale dress and cap.

Kim rested a hand on Nino’s shoulder. “Just let the guy enjoy this.”

“At least somebody is.” Nathaniel muttered bitterly as he tried to hide as behind his sketchbook. It was a futile attempt, of course, as he at most only covered his face, leaving the red dress, white apron with pockets, and knee-high boots on full display.

“I don’t understand how he can.” Max complained. He tugged at his own skirt in vain, looking at Adrien’s ankle-length ensemble enviously. The skirt was much shorter than he would have liked—reaching a couple inches above his thigh and almost seemed to be defying gravity to stay that way despite his attempts to get it to either flatten or otherwise lower. “I question the design choices.”

“But you look just like Misaki from Maid Sama! And Nathaniel looks like Lizbeth!” Adrien insisted. “It’s totally a cosplay!”

Max just stared incredulously. He was wearing a black dress with puffy sleeves that tapered off just shy of his elbow, white apron, a cap, and thigh-high black stockings and knee-high boots, it seemed Adrien did have a point.

Max, in all fairness, didn’t particularly care in favor of the problems that came with suddenly finding himself in a short dress, heels, and a corset.

“I just can’t peg where Kim or Nino’s outfits are from.” He continued, studying the outfits in question contemplatively. “But give me a little time! It’ll come to me!”

The boys had been having an afternoon hangout session in the park. No girls. No teachers. No Gabriel Agreste or bodyguards to whisk certain teen models away. It was supposed to be a normal non-drama-filled day.

…which was naturally when it became something less than normal and certainly more than drama-filled.

“I think I get why girls complain about this sort of thing now.” Kim said, looking at his shoes. “These heels are kind of uncomfortable…”

“Are you sure it’s the heels and not the flippers?” Nino asked, annoyed.

Sure enough, Kim was wearing flipper-heels. They were black and also had black ankle straps with a little bow on each. This strange footwear did seem to go with Kim’s talent in swimming, which was also emphasized by the ruffle maid swimsuit they matched with.

“Nah, it’s definitely the heels.” Kim insisted.

So this was what their all-boys’ afternoon had come to.

Kim was wobbling on unsteady heels.

Nathaniel groaned and kept his ever reddening face covered.

Max was questioning where they could procure jackets. Long jackets.

Adrien was giggling to himself and asking if they could do a full Cells at Work group cosplay.

And Nino paled, suddenly realizing something.

"Guys. Guys, we have to hide!"

"Why?" Kim asked. "It's annoying, but this akuma doesn't seem really dangerous."

"No, you don't get it!" Nino hissed. "If Alya catches us, we will NEVER live this down!"

Nathaniel looked over the edge of his sketchbook. “Alya wouldn’t actually post pictures of us to the Ladyblog, would she?”

A long pause followed.

The boys paled.

Except for Adrien, who turned to them with a gasp of excitement. “Do you think she would? We could do a group picture!”

All the other boys paled even more, looking downright ill.

And immediately took off running.

Or at least as well as they could with heels. None of them made it very far without tripping, stumbling, or simply struggling to stay upright as they still tried to move away from the area as quickly as the heels would allow.

“But what’s wrong with—?”

“JUST RUN, ADRIEN!”

“Who thought maid outfits with high heels was a good idea?! How can anyone be expected to clean in these things?

“I will never draw high heels on a super heroine again.”

“I can’t breathe! Who created corsets?! What objective does this achieve besides crushing one’s lungs?”

Nino groaned, still running. “I hope Hawk Moth is suffering as much as we are!”

_____________________

If Nino Lahiffe had the ability to break the fourth wall and peer into the events happening outside of his immediate vicinity, he would be happy to find this was actually the case.

And he would laugh.

Oh, how he would laugh.

“Sir…?”

“Don’t.” Came the dark growl from a very unhappy supervillain. “Don’t say anything, Nathalie..."

This was an akuma that impacted every male in Paris. Every male.

…even to Hawk Moth, himself.

“Why did this happen?”

It would appear that even Hawk Moth was not immune to Aku-Maid’s power as he had been similarly transformed. And unfortunately, due to the change, he could no longer access his Miraculous. The Butterfly broach had disappeared, having been transformed along with his outfit.

And his outfit had…actually left much to be desired.

Which was truthfully just a nice way of saying it was ugly.

Really, really ugly.

Normally the picture of stoicism, Nathalie had to pretend to cough to avoid reacting.

“Can’t you order the akuma to undo it?” She eventually was able to ask.

He lowered his head and closed his eyes in concentration. “No. It’s no good. I’ve lost the link!”

His eyes widened and he clutched his chest in a panic.

“Where is the Miraculous?!” Hawk Moth demanded, trying—and failing to pull at the tasteless dress. But as others across the city had already discovered, the clothes were magic and would not be removed or displaced. Not even the frock or the cap he now wore.

“Sir, you were transformed when you changed. It looks like the Butterfly Miraculous was transformed along with you.”

He froze, eyes widening in horror. “But that’s—”

He grasped at the empty place on his chest. Where once had been his lapel and pin now only had ruffles and a leathery texture. His mask remained in place, though it was now fully black except for the openings around his eyes and mouth, which were bordered with a lighter grey color. The material and outfit overall had a shine to it that could be found on any wetsuit.

To put it nicely: he looked atrocious.

To put it bluntly: he looked like some sort of BDSM role-player with a maid kink.

So it was fortunate, perhaps, that no one else in Paris would have to be subject to the sight.

Except Nathalie. Who was probably going to have nightmares.

Or a coronary from the laughter she was trying to hold back.

It was admittedly a bit hard to tell.

But it seemed she was handling the situation a bit better than Hawk Moth, despite the fact that the man was currently unable to see himself or the full extent of the monstrosity he now wore.

…this was probably for the best. Given the man’s fashion sense, there was really no telling whether he would be horrified or inspired, and nobody would want to find out.

“I can’t contact the akuma! And I can’t call it back!”

He moaned, covering his…already covered face with his hands. “I’ll never be taken seriously again!”

Nathalie resolutely held back from pointing out he was barely being taken seriously now.

“It’s…not that bad?” She tried. Not very well, but she tried.

Hawk Moth clutched his head in horror. “Unless Ladybug and Chat Noir can stop this akuma, we’re doomed!”

“Sir, it’s just an akuma that puts men in maid outfits. It’s really not that bad.”

“DOOOOOOMED!!!”

__________________________

The akuma, for her part, was unaware of her benefactor’s misery, too busy enjoying the abject misery of everyone else around her.

Nobody knew just what had set the girl off to get her akumatized in the first place. Her comments about men being “the eye-candy now” suggested an argument. The maid outfits involved suggested what the topic of the argument had been regarding.

To be honest, nobody had actually realized she was the akuma responsible. She did appear fairly normal by akuma terms, dressed in a seemingly authentic Victorian era dress more befitting as an authentic Lady’s Maid compared the frillier, lacier varieties that the men around her had suddenly found themselves in. What would normally have gotten her a few odds looks was mostly ignored in the face of the sudden change. Few even took notice of her dark purple skin or black hair. Or the fan in her hand.

“THAT’S RIGHT! SEE HOW YOU LIKE BEING OBJECTIFIED!”

The yelling…was a bit harder to miss.

It was the first thing that drew the attention of the three girls settled at the cafe.

The second thing was the various cries of horror as several of the men around them suddenly discovered their state of dress transformed into…well…dresses. Of a variety that made the little cafe appear more like a maid cafe than anything.

The third thing was the appearance of a familiar face running down the road, holding up his long white dress to make running easier as he looked for a place to hide.

Marinette stared.

“ADRIEN?!”

Adrien Agreste was running around in a long white and pale cream Victorian-era dress and cap, looking like Cinderella running from the ball. Except a maid.

A quick glance to her companions showed that both Alya and Kagami were similarly staring in befuddlement, so this was neither her imagination or a fever dream.

“Adrien? What’s going on?” Alya asked for everyone.

“It’s an akuma!” He replied, quickly. “She’s putting everybody into cosplay!”

“…cosplay?”

“Yeah!”

“…everybody?”

He paused, glancing around. “Well…all the guys, I think?”

Marinette stared.

“…Just that?” Alya asked, thankfully taking over while Marinette’s brain started to become aware that this WAS Adrien she was talking to. “She’s not doing anything else besides putting guys into…‘cosplays’?”

He blinked in confusion. “I…think so?”

“She isn’t…I don’t know…commanding you or anything?”

“Well, she hasn’t yet. Which, really, isn’t so bad for an akuma if you think about it.” He said with a frown before he noticed the strange look on Kagami’s face. “Kagami, are you okay?”

Kagami made a strangled sound.

“Marinette?”

Marinette pretended to choke on a drink from an empty glass to avoid speaking.

“Can I add to your order?” The waiter came by, seeming unconcerned by the ruckus or the act that he was now wearing a rather cutesy maid outfit the likes of which would be seen in a maid cafe in Japan.

“You don’t seem put off by this.” Alya pointed out, noting his relatively unfazed attitude compared to the panicking of the other men around them…or the gushing from Adrien.

The waiter took it in stride.

“It’s okay.” He replied blankly. “I’m already dead inside.”

“Oh.”

He turned to Kagami. “Do you need anything else, Miss?”

Kagami was still staring at Adrien, blushing furiously.

“I think I have a problem.”

“You mean a kink?”

“A. Problem.” She spoke through gritted teeth.

“Story of my life.” The waiter replied as he refilled her glass of water, either unaware or uncaring of the specific nature of her trouble.

Alya gasped in sudden realization. “Wait! If this is happening here then…” She turned to Adrien. “Where were Nino and the boys?” He blinked, curious. “Oh, they decided to head home. Why?”

An almost sinister smirk formed on Alya’s face. One that would have anyone it was directed at cowering in fear. And strong enough to be felt from several blocks away.

Unbeknownst to them, Nino felt that smirk like a trail of cold fingers down his back, and promptly threw himself into his room and slammed the door shut behind him.

As if she sensed this, Alya slammed several bills on the table and dashed out the door.

“GOTTA GO!”

Realizing an akuma was about, Marinette was right on her heels. She found a nearby alleyway and immediately prepared to transform and face this latest threat.

“Oh my god. OH MY GOD.” She broke down, letting out the laughter she’d been trying so hard to hold in. “He’s a dork! The boy I’m crushing on is a complete DORK who is in to cosplaying! He thinks maid outfits are COSPLAY!”

…or she would be.

“And here I’ve been driving myself nuts with anxiety over just asking him out and he doesn’t even—”

Any minute now…

“Marinette!” Tikki hissed. “You need to stop the akuma!”

“Can’t I just take a picture first?”

“MARINETTE!”

“Oh fine…”

_____________________

Luka didn’t realize anything had happened. He felt a bit off balanced for a moment, and a bit colder, but attributed that to being on the Liberty. So he simply shifted his stance to be a bit more steady and continued playing. It wasn’t until the drum stopped that he realized something was actually wrong.

The look of shock from Mylene and the following shriek from Ivan cemented it.

He spun around, not sure what could have elicited such a cry from his fellow bandmate. And at first, he couldn’t really tell what had happened. Ivan was crouched behind the drum set, covering his face with his hands and trembling in what appeared to be mortification.

Then he noticed the mobcap on Ivan’s head, which he was pretty sure hadn’t been there before. And Ivan’s shirt seemed distinctly…fluffier and frillier than he remembered seeing a few minutes ago. He tried to move closer to offer help, only for his own balance to be off. And when he looked down…

Oh.

The dress was new.

As were the stockings.

And the notably thinner and sleeker heels on his boots.

He hummed to himself, considering the change.

“Akuma?” Juleka asked him.

“Most likely.” He replied.

Mylene had rushed up to their practice stage and to Ivan’s side, even as he moaned for her to not look at him. The poor guy was completely red in embarrassment. Seeing how upset he was, the other three had backed away, leaving Mylene to try to help her boyfriend.

“Luka, are you okay?” Rose asked worriedly, trying to respect Ivan’s need for space while also checking in on their other effected bandmate.

“I’m fine. It was just a surprise at first.” He replied.

It wasn’t every day that you suddenly found yourself in a maid outfit, after all. It was a simple outfit. White off the shoulder puffy sleeves with black frills. A black tube skirt. White apron. And…he reached to his neck where a weight was, feeling a choker.

Huh…

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

Honestly, he could be in worse.

Rose seemed surprised at that. “Really? Even with those shoes?”

He looked down at the shoes in question. The boots were his style—surprisingly, given it was an akuma. The higher heels were definitely different from his norm, and clearly what Rose was referring to. In any other circumstances, she would be right.

But...

Luka smiled, shifting his stance and resting a hand on his hip. “Well, someone had to teach Jules to walk in heels. And I couldn’t show her if I didn’t know how myself.

Juleka huffed. “Don’t say that like you didn’t enjoy playing dress up.”

Luka merely curtsied, not only showing off more of his slightly ripped and punk-looking fishnet stockings, but almost proudly displaying his ability to move fluently in heels.

Rose appropriately “oo-ed” and “aah-ed” at his display. Juleka merely shook her head and smiled. Ivan was still recovering from his panic attack and had resolutely refused to come out from behind the drums, despite Mylene’s reassurances.

“So it has to be an akuma, right?” Rose asked.

“If it is, I want a picture or two, at least.” Juleka muttered as she admired Luka’s outfit, mumbling about commissioning Marinette to recreate it in her size. She hadn’t known maids could come in this style.

Mylene nodded from her place at Ivan’s side. “Though it seems rather fortunate if this is all the akuma is doing.”

“We don’t know if that is it, though.” Luka warned. “For all we know, there could be some other ability she has if she catches us. It would probably be safer if we hid out inside until this is over.”

The others agreed. And Anarka, bless her soul, actually came up with a large blanket for Ivan to wrap himself in to preserve his dignity. Then she and Mylene helped the taller teen to safely relocate to inside. Much like Luka, Ivan’s shoes had changed, but he was substantially less able to maneuver in them. And no amount of effort or force on his part could seem to separate the heels from his feet.

Once he and the others were inside, Luka moved to follow. He hesitated, however, at the sound of something landing behind him.

“Viperion? We’ll need your help.”

He turned to see Ladybug standing tall. And was that perhaps a hint of blush on her face?

Oh.

A shame.

It looked like Juleka wouldn’t be getting her pictures, after all...

_____________________

KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!

He shuddered, backing away from the door as far as possible.

“Ninoooooo…”

It was a fight for survival.

“C’mon, Nino. Just open the door.”

The survival of his dignity, but still!

He’d lost track of the others and immediately rushed home and to the safety of his room. His room, which he could lock and hide away in until this all blew over.

“I have a key!” Came Chris’s voice. “Somewhere…”

“Give it and I won’t take any pictures of you.”

“Deal!”

His room, which his traitorous little brother was willing to allow the enemy entry into.

Under any normal circumstances, he wouldn’t be this desperate. But if Alya caught him like this…

Black dress. Puffy at the shoulder, sleeves that extended to his wrists and were bound by white cuffs. A white smock tied back with a white ribbon. White bow at the neck and white frills along the bottom of the dress?

Oh yeah…Alya would never let this go…

He knew he shouldn’t have gotten into all those anime Adrien pushed him into! So what if the maids were cute? And sure, he’d admit he's had a thought or two of Alya in such attire...

But how was he supposed to know Alya had such thoughts as well? And in the complete opposite direction! Clearly this was the akuma’s magic punishing him!

Nino looked to his window.

It would be a long fall, but it was his only escape.

But would the broken legs be worth it when Alya would soon figure out what he did and be able to catch up to him easily?

Maybe he could try to climb up instead…but in these heels? It was suicide!

“Fufufu!”

…screw it.

He opened up his window, only to meet a new pair of eyes.

Ladybug stared in surprise from her place at his windowsill, a certain box in hand.

“…hi?”

“Oh thank god!” He exclaimed. He took her by her shoulders, half leaning out and half pulling her in. “Alya’s insisting on taking pictures! Please tell me you have my Miraculous with you!”

“Actually, about that—”

“I don’t care! I’ll do anything! Just please—SAVE ME!”

Ladybug looked back behind her to a distant rooftop and the other allies she’d left behind.

The sound of a key jingling could be heard and Nino stared up at her, pleadingly.

Well, she could never resist the eyes…

By the time they’d gotten the door open, the room was empty.

Nino was gone.

_____________________

Six heroes stood assembled.

Ladybug.

Chat Noir.

Carapace.

Viperion.

King Monkey.

Pegasus.

Six heroes.

Five of whom were male.

And…still wearing some semblance of feminine maid-like outfits.

Ladybug wasn’t sure if she should be impressed or worried.

“What the hell?! I thought the Miraculous were supposed to change us into our hero suits?” Nino groused.

Contrary to his hopes and expectations, using the Miraculous had not transformed him into his normal Carapace look, but had rather simply given him a different outfit. The dress itself was green and had a turtle shell pattern, while the apron and waist belts were a brown color. The bowknot around his neck was a dark green and a brown to match the apron. He wore stockings. And to his very limited relief, his shoes were flats instead of heels.

“Well, at least this skirt is longer.” Pegasus said, now wearing a dark brown blouse and bicycle skirt. The skirt went to just above his ankles, for which he was grateful. But this seemed to be countered by the increase of height to his heels.

Plus no corset. The outfit was still fit tightly and not very comfortable, but at least he could breathe now.

“Though I believe we’re getting away from maid-wear now.” Chat said, conversationally.

Pegasus gave him a flat look. “I’m not complaining.”

If Chat had witnessed his earlier ensemble, surely he would understand.

King Monkey, for his part, seemed somewhat appeased with his Miraculous suit. It was a notably more Eastern style of dress, appearing more like robes worn by palace servants. He wore a light brown waistcoat with wide sleeves over a blouse and a wrap-around skirt. It looked heavy, but Kim seemed to have no trouble with it. Maybe it was made of a lighter material…?

And Viperion’s dress was different in style as well. Whereas his maid outfit as Luka had been more punk, this was more sleek. Wearing a green sleeveless dress and white smock, as well as what appeared to be a green corset. The dress had a slit at the sides, giving more maneuverability for his legs…as well as more show, given the appearance of a garter belt and stockings. His shoes were high heeled but including a beautiful snake design that wrapped around his ankles. To finish it off, rather than remain bare, his arms were covered in what appeared to be loose green sleeves that started at his elbows and extended to his wrists.

…maybe a picture or two wouldn’t hurt? Or three? Because the amount of details on these outfits were amazing and she was just brimming with ideas now…

Ladybug broke out of her musings when someone tugged on her shoulder to get her attention.

It was Chat. Chat who, much like the other heroes, as dressed in a fantastical outfit. Though a maid outfit, it was definitely more cat-themed with a giant paw-like gloves covering his hands, a paw print on his apron, and bow and bell on his tail which rang as he shifted.

What material was that made of, anyway? She kind of wanted to give it a feel and see if she could find something to compare it to. Maybe a quick sketch?

Oh. Right.

Akuma.

Maybe if she was lucky, they could finish this quickly so she could rush back home and take notes while she still had the ideas bouncing in her brain.

…maybe someone would have gotten pictures by then…?

“Ladybug?” Chat whispered, snapping her back to reality.

“Yes?”

Chat frowned in concern. “Is the Guardian okay with this?”

Ladybug froze.

“PSST! Ladybug!” Came a voice from a nearby rooftop, drawing her attention.

“Master Fu?”

“Ladybug! Here’s the Miracle Box. Take as many allies as you can and resolve this as soon as possible!”

“Master? Are…you hiding in a box?”

“No questions! Just go!”

“…he’s fine.”

Chat seemed uncertain, but decided not to pry.

“Let’s just split up and find the akuma.” Ladybug said. “But don’t engage until we’re all together!”

With that, the six split into three groups, with Chat and Carapace going one way and King Monkey and Pegasus going another, leaving Ladybug and Viperion searching together with the former trying not to get caught stealing peeks at the latter.

“Is something wrong?” He asked with a smile.

…trying. The key word was trying not to get caught.

“No! Nothing!” She replied quickly. “I’m just…surprised that you can still move so quickly in those heels.”

“I’ve had practice.” He explained, still smiling. He even lifted one leg behind him, managing to stand perfectly balanced even on one leg in heels.

“I…see.”

Part of her wanted very much to laugh. It was the same part that had found this entire day ridiculous. The other part of her was her inner artist at work and really wanted to make a few sketches inspired from the presented outfits. Like Viperion’s sleeves…and those shoes with a snake coil wrapping around the ankle…

“Ladybug!”

Gaah! Focus!

She turned towards the shout to find King Monkey and Pegasus stumbling towards her.

Her fingers twitched. She ignored it.

“We found the akuma.” King Monkey reported. “She doesn’t seem to be doing anything. Just…kind or roaming around.”

“And laughing.” Pegasus added bitterly. “She appears to be doing a lot of that.”

“How’s THAT for ‘doll them up’?” Came a shout from street level. “HOW DO YOU LIKE THAT, HUH?!”

As if on cue…

Ladybug and the others peeked over the edge of the roof.

“Has she displayed any other powers?” She asked.

“No.” Pegasus replied. “From what we could see, her power has already been activated to…obvious effect.” He hesitated, resolutely avoiding mentioning his new outfit or the indignity he’d already suffered. “She has only been laughing. And tripping the occasional person while searching for someone in particular—possibly the one responsible for her ire.”

Ladybug nodded. “At least she’s distracted and doesn’t know we’re here. We just need a plan of attack before we try to fight her.”

“No problem!” King Monkey said with a grin as he reached for his weapon. “We can just do a head on attack with our weapons and—”

They stared.

In place of his staff was a broom. A normal cleaning broom.

They sent cautious glances to each other before they checked their own inventory.

Said inventory consisted of a broom, a bucket, and a feather duster.

“I believe that constitutes as a problem.” Pegasus stated worriedly.

“That’s no fair!” King Monkey exclaimed. “Adrien was able to summon a machete!”

Ladybug blanched at that. “A what?!”

Pegasus pushed up his glasses. “I believe it’s a component of his…‘cosplay’?”

“Pfft!” Ladybug covered her mouth with her hand.

“Ladybug?”

“I-it’s nothing!” She replied hurriedly.

Viperion raised his eyebrow at her but didn’t comment.

King Monkey at least seemed to take it in stride.

“Now we just need a plan for attack!”

“With what?!” Pegasus questioned, waving the feather duster in frustration. “Our weapons don’t work!”

“More like our weapons aren’t actually weapons.” Viperion said, considering his bucket.

“I could smack her.” King Monkey offered, holding up his broom. “Maybe your feather duster has dust on it and could make her sneeze?”

Pegasus gave him a flat look.

“I think the broom is the best weapon we have right now.”

“Don’t knock a bucket!” King Monkey commanded, resolutely. “I got one stick on my head one time and it took hours to get it off! Buckets are evil, man!”

Pegasus sighed and rubbed his head. “It concerns me that you’re the second person I know whom that has happened to.”

Ladybug coughed, discretely trying to draw attention off that particular subject lest identities be at risk. “Anyway, I think I have a plan...”

______________________

To be honest, it wasn’t that difficult of an akuma. Especially not with six of them teaming up against it.

Akumaid truly see to have no ability other than the initial one of transforming what any male in Paris was wearing into something embarrassing...unless you were Adrien, apparently. Aside from that, she showed no other power—neither over the clothes themselves or the people wearing them. Well, she wasn’t controlling any of the victims or shrinking the clothing to choke them at any rate...which if you think about it, was rather lame for an akuma in the power department.

The only real disadvantage in battle came in the difficulty the boys had moving freely in their current outfits. And the afore noted lack of proper weaponry.

Their advantage of surprising was ruined by Chat’s bell ringing before they could ambush her, and both Carapace and Pegasus losing balance with their heels and falling over. King Monkey’s outfit, while longer, also meant more fabric to flap about and resist his movements regardless of how light it may have been, so he wasn’t able to get a hit in fast enough before the akuma turned on him and knocked him away.

Chat was able to get a hit in though.

With his…Kitty Wand…

“THIS IS MAGICAL PUNISHMENT!” He shouted as he smacked the akuma over the head.

“Chat. Chat no. Chat why?”

And Ladybug had hopelessly lost her composure by this point and was laughing. Just laughing. Laughing so hard she was crying actual tears as she smacked her own thigh in her struggle to breathe. Viperion was trying to help her stay standing, keeping an arm around her to support her as she half leaned and half chuckled tears into his chest.

“What’s going on? Does the akuma have some power over Ladybug, too?” King Monkey asked.

…

Viperion sighed.

“Sure. Something to that effect.”

Ladybug wheezed.

“LADYBUG!”

“Lu-haha-lucky haha-charm!”

It said something when her own Lucky Charm magicked up a paper bag. With Ladybug still victim to her fit of giggles, Viperion simply put the bag over her face and had her try to breathe.

“A paper bag doesn’t help with out of control laughing.” Pegasus noted as he forced himself to his feet.

“Do you want to try to figure out the Lucky Charm?” Viperion bit out in annoyance, Ladybug still shaking in his arms.

Pegasus coughed and backed away. “No, thank you.”

Ladybug let out another giggle.

“All right, enough! I’ll stop her!” Carapace shouted, reaching for his back. “With my…serving plate.”

His shield.

His precious shield was gone.

“…Carapace?” Ladybug asked.

The newly rendered Turtle Maid sighed and simply threw the plate as he had his shield, not expecting much.

…the plate slice flew through the air at a surprising speed, but missed the akuma entirely. Instead, it sailed past her, hitting a light post.

Ladybug had expected it to bounce, but instead there was a sound of shredding metal as the serving plate actually tore through the lamp post and into the concrete itself.

The lamp post, now detached, tilted and fell over—conveniently on top of the akuma before she had the time to realize what was happening and move out of the way.

SLAM!

It fell on top of her and she hit the ground.

“Huzzah?” Kim asked.

“Well…that’s one way to defeat an akuma.” Pegasus marveled.

“Great. Now can we fix this already?” Carapace asked impatiently. If they took too much longer, someone was bound to catch them.

That someone would probably be Alya.

And that was the last thing he wanted at this point.

“But I kind of wanted to make a sketch at least…” Ladybug muttered to herself, holding the paper bag Charm to her chest.

“LADYBUG!”

She waved her hands insistently. “I’m on it!”

But she could dream…

“MIRACULOUS LADYBUG!”

It was with some disappointment that the Miraculous Cure wiped away the outfits of the other heroes, returning them to their original costumes.

“OH THANK GOD!”

“That was…horrible…”

“Corsets were invented as a torture method, I swear…”

“Shieldy!” Carapace exclaimed, hugging the shield in relief. “Never leave me again!”

“You okay now, Ladybug?” Chat asked her in worry.

“I’m fine.” She said, even though she wasn’t really. She felt like she’d missed a chance, even if it was for the greater good. But it would have been an abuse of her power to be taking pictures of the guys in that state and she already felt bad enough for breaking down laughing in the middle of the fight.

In that moment, however, the loveliness of ladybugs that made up the Cure returned from their task of restoring Paris to flow over Ladybug herself before vanishing, leaving her holding an envelope in their wake. Curious, she opened the envelope…

She gasped.

Inside were a multitude of photos of the other heroes. From different angles. In different positions. All of them in their new outfits.

Ladybug bit the inside of her cheek to keep from responding and drawing attention to herself.

…Thank you, Tikki.

Best. Kwami. Ever. “Ladybug…” Carapace said in growing wariness. “What is that?”

“Nothing!”

“Ladybug. That better not be what I think it is…”

She shoved the photos back in the envelope.

“It’s nothing at all!”

“Why don’t I believe you?”

Noticing the stand off, the others approached as well.

“It was just something I was missing, yeah.”

“Then let us see it.”

“Can’t.” She replied, clutching the envelope to her chest. “It’s…Ladybug stuff.”

“Hand it over. Right now!”

"NOOO! THESE ARE FOR THE FUTURE OF FASHIOOOON!”

“GIVE US THE PHOTOS!”

“Wait—did she get any of all of us in a group cosplay pic?”

“NOT NOW, CHAT!”

Unfortunately, that small distraction was all she needed to get away.

Viperion, the only one having been pretty nonchalant this whole time, simply watched her leave and the others shout after her.

“…isn’t she going to take our Miraculous back?”

_________________________

Angela sighed, already dreading what was to come.

It was a humiliating end to an already humiliating week as the former akuma victim had been forced to return to her job to go over the updates for the new Ladybug game with the rest of her team.

Said updates were apparently to include maid outfits for the female heroes thanks to one particular coworker who had decided to work on maid outfits for the female heroes instead of the level he was assigned. It had been part of the reason she had been angry enough to be akumatized.

The fact that he was insistent on shoving his maid fetish into the game for no good reason other than having them be eye candy was the other part.

The images in question that he insisted on bringing featured the three female super heroes of the city: Ladybug, Rena Rouge, and Queen Bee.

But not as anyone had ever seen them.

Instead of their usual hero suits, the three girls were portrayed in sultry, even provocative poses. And most notably, all three were wearing some mockery of a French Maid outfit…as what would be believed by Americans, no less.

They might as well have been the initial sketches of pinup posters.

“You can’t still be serious!”

“Hey, I’m not the one who got akumatized just because I was jealous that someone else had a good idea.” He said bitingly and giving her a pointed look, perhaps still a bit bitter of the aforementioned experience that her akumatization had caused.

“It’s not a good idea, John.” Angela countered. “There was no reason to have the girls be running in maid outfits.”

He shrugged. “We could just say an akuma did it. After all, we did just get an akuma who did exactly that.” He said, giving her another look.

She clenched her fists and was about to retort when their team lead entered the room.

The meeting commenced and she’d been forced to bite her tongue. Each of the team members went over their progress and updates for their contribution to the game. Level design. Enemies. Testing.

And then came his grand achievement. Instead of the level he was assigned, he gave scantily clad designs for three of the eight known heroes.

What effort.

“I was thinking we really need to include something to make our game stand out, so I made some extra skins for the heroes.” He bragged, sending her a smug look. “The appeal would sell plenty of copies.”

“Or the controversy.” Angela muttered back before turning to the team lead and hoping that the man leading their group had more empathy…or sense.

The team lead looked over the designs with an analyzing gaze. Tiffeny, despite the initial impression his name would give, was a rather buff man who took no shit. But was also a guy. Who liked guy things. But did those things include young women in maid costumes?

After a moment, Tiffeny dropped the pictures on the table and looked at John incredulously. “You know, if you were going to base skins off recent events, you could at least have been authentic.”

John stared. “What?”

“It was the guys who were affected by Akumaid. Not the girls. If we’re going to do maids, we need to keep it true to life, just like the rest of the designs we’ve included. We talked about this when we started this project.”

“But it’s what the audience wants!” John argued.

“Do you know who comprises the majority of our audience?” Tiffeny asked. “Girls. Girls, gay guys, and those who are exploring their interests. Guys in the outfits would sell leagues more than the girls.” He started ticking his fingers “It’s different. It’s original. And it’s based in actual events. People would love it.”

“But…they’ll love this!”

“Man, if people wanted to see sexy girls in skimpy clothing, they’d play literally any other game! Or watch porn.” Tiffeny explained. “But what game do you know of has had guys in maid outfits?”

“Well...”

“Exactly. We want to stand out. And we even have recent events as justification. So if you’re going to be wasting time you should be spending on level-making to put people in maid skins, then get those male heroes some maid costumes.”

“But that’s not fair!” John exclaimed.

Tiffeny paused at that. “Hmm…you’re right.”

With that, he turned to her. “You’re good at designing. Make some butler outfits for the girls. Something dashing to serve as a counter for the guys.”

Angela blinked in surprise for a moment before smiling.

“Sure thing!”

“You know…” one of the other workers noted. “While we’re on the subject, I WAS thinking of some medieval armor designs for the girls and princess dresses for the guys.”

“Hey yeah! Like a light green for Viperion!”

“Maybe teal might be better?”

“Ooo! How about…”

Soon enough, everyone seemed to be invested in the new plan.

Everyone that is, except John.

“Lovely!” Tiffeny said cheerfully. “Plan it out and bring the concepts to me later.”

With a new task in hand and John’s pouting to forever be a memory to hold onto, it seemed her day was looking up…

_________________________

“That was some akuma battle.” Marinette said as she slid into her seat next to Alya.

The reporter, however, only looked annoyed. “Ladybug had apparently called all the male heroes and I completely missed it!” She groaned and leaned back in her seat, bemoaning the lost opportunity.

If she’d hadn’t been so focused on tracking Nino for the purpose of collecting blackmail ensuring his safety, she would have been able to catch all of the male heroes in their maid outfits.

Marinette smiled. “You know…I may have a connection…”

Alya gasped.

“No.”

Marinette giggled and slid over her phone with a picture showing.

“NO WAY!” She cried out before staring up at Marinette in shock. “Girl, you have to send me these!”

“Wait—you have what now?” Nino had arrived, initially hopeful that he had avoided the worst of that day only to have those hopes immediately dashed upon arriving to see the two girls sharing what could only have been one thing…

“I have pictures of the heroes in their new outfits.” Marinette replied cheerfully as she swiped through her phone. “Oh look, Nino! You’re in here, too!”

“WHAT?! NO!” He shouted, rushing forward.

Marinette quickly grabbed back her phone and hid it in her pocket with an overly sweet and not at all innocent grin.

“Mari, come on, no! Don’t do this to me!” He begged.

“Don’t do this to ME!” Alya cut in. “You can’t just show me that and take it away! That’s just not fair!”

“Don’t worry.” Marinette assured them. “It’s going where all my blackmail material goes.”

“Wait what?”

“Since when do you have blackmail material?”

“Since somebody started a game of ‘let’s take pictures of Marinette while she’s asleep and post them online’.” Marinette replied dryly.

Nino groaned. “Come on! I said I was sorry!”

“And now I can be just as sorry.” She replied blithely.

Which was to say: not sorry at all.

“Come on! Alya made me do it!”

“It was just in fun! Marinette! Please!”

“Do you want me to beg? Cry? I’ll cry.”

“I’ll pay you! Pretty please! At least the heroes if nothing else!”

“Oh no you don’t!”

“My blog NEEDS this!”

Marinette smiled at the minor chaos she had caused as the normally happy couple bickered with each other.

Sweet sweet music.

“Hey, Marinette!”

And speaking of sweet…

She turned to look up at a certain blond-haired model as he arrived at his own desk. Though he seemed to be a bit distracted by the arguing couple.

“Hey, Adrien!” She greeted, for once with no stutter to speak of.

“Hey, um…are they okay?” He asked, gesturing to the two.

“Oh, they’re fine.” She said, waving them off. “Just…a bit excited over the recent akuma.”

At that, Adrien brightened. “Wasn’t it awesome?”

She nodded, trying to keep her laughter inside.

“You…ah…enjoyed yourself then?”

Adrien shrugged, looking a bit sheepish. “Well, it’s not often I get to dress up in a way that’s ‘silly’. Or in anything that isn’t promoting Father’s brand. And I’ve never gotten to cosplay. So it was…really fun.”

Oh. Ouch. Okay, that one kind of hurt. The poor Sunshine Child…

“You know…” Marinette said, leaning over her desk and smiling at him. “I’ve seen a bit of that one anime you mentioned.”

“Cells at Work?” He asked, brightening up.

She nodded. “Mmhmm. I could make you a jacket based off the lead Red Blood Cell. And if you like, I can keep it so you can wear it whenever we hang out.”

He gasped. “Really?”

“Sure! Maybe you can come over sometime so we can try a fitting. We could even play Mecha Strike.”

Adrien beamed. “That sounds great! Thanks, Marinette!”

She waved him off and went back to full sitting in her seat.

Alya and Nino both became distracted from their arguing by the miracle they had just witnessed.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng had just spoken to Adrien Agreste…and not a stutter to be heard!

“What the heck, girl?” Alya whispered, sliding into her seat beside her friend. “Since when could you do THAT and why haven’t you done it sooner? I could swear I saw hearts in his eyes!”

Marinette shrugged, grinning sheepishly. “After seeing Adrien Agreste in a maid dress, I kind of wondered why I was so scared of talking to him to begin with.”

Alya laughed. “Well, at least something good came out of this, then.”

“You know...more good WOULD come out of this if I had pics of those heroes..."

“Really, Alya?”

“You’re pretty much the only one who managed to get any shots of the male heroes!” Alya exclaimed. “Seriously, how?!”

Marinette giggled.

“Just lucky, I guess.”

________________________

OMAKE 1:

Knock! Knock!

“Felix?” His mother called on the other side of the locked and barricaded door. “Will you be coming out?”

“That depends. Do you have a camera?”

A pause. Which was all the answer he needed.

“Then no.”

OMAKE 2:

Fortunately, in the midst of their searching, the team had managed to find the akuma and her primary target, getting between the two.

“So what happened?” Ladybug asked him.

John gripped his skirt, nervously. “She’s my coworker in developing a new video game and she didn’t like my input.”

“What set her off?”

The guy rolled his eyes. “She’s one of those types who wants to take the fun out of video games.”

“What?” Ladybug blinked.

“Okay, so I wanted to put some maid costumes in the game! It was just for fun! Besides, it would have added a bit of pizazz! Something for the players to enjoy!”

“You could just try making a good game.” Pegasus pointed out. “If you have to rely on a cheap gimmick to get buyers, it may not be a good product.”

"I'm sorry, really! I mean, sure, I'm still going to put it in the game, because who wouldn't want hot maids, but still! That doesn't mean I deserve this!"

The akuma raised her fist and shouted at him. “THEY ARE HEROES, DAMMIT! THEY DESERVE BETTER THAN MAID SKINS JUST BECAUSE THEY’RE GIRLS!”

Ladybug blanched. “Wait…is the game about me?”

Pegasus coughed and looked away. “There have been…rumors, yes.”

Viperion tilted his head. “That seems like a double standard though…since we’re the ones in maid outfits...”

“Not the point, Viperion!”

Ladybug frowned.

“I don’t think I want to help now.”

“Ladybug!”

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seungmoroll · 3 years

Text

I Want to Go Home | Hwang Hyunjin

Word count: 1.3k

Genre & warnings: badboy Hyunjin x reader, angst, fluff, mentions of fighting & smoking

Requested: no

A/n: it’s missing Hyunjin hours :(

What was supposed to be a fun night for everyone turned into an uneasy night for you. Chan was throwing a beach party and so of course everyone showed up, and that included you and your boyfriend Hyunjin. Originally, Hyunjin had just wanted to stay in and watch romcoms with you, but for once, you had wanted to go out and so you begged him to come out with you; and of course, Hyunjin being Hyunjin, he couldn’t say no to you. That’s why the two of you were cuddling with each other next to the bonfire surrounded by your friends.

The pair of you could’ve been dancing with some of the others, but Hyunjin, for once, didn’t want to dance, so he had pulled you towards the bonfire and hasn’t let go of you since. You were currently listening to Jisung animatedly tell everyone a story, when a group of guys approached you guys, and from your side, you could feel Hyunjin’s body get tense.

“Well, look what we have here. We heard that the Bang Chan was throwing a party, so of course we had to come out and see it for ourselves,” the intruder, who you supposed was the “leader” of the group, said. From the corner of your eye, you see Chan stand up from his spot, “Gyubin, it’s good to see you dude.” You could tell that there was no sincerity in his words. With the arrival of this new group, the environment had suddenly turned cold. “Why don’t we go hang out over there?” Chan had attempted to usher them away from you guys, but they had made zero movement. “Nah, I think we’re good here Chan.” Gyubin’s eyes then shift from Chan towards you and Hyunjin, and you can’t help but look away from his eyes, and you feel Hyunjin’s grip on you slightly tighten.

“Wait. Is that who I think it is? What am I saying, of course it is. Hyunjin, it’s been quite a while, hasn’t it?” Gyubin attempts to move forward, closer towards the two of you, but Chan puts out a hand to stop him, causing for Changbin and Minho to get up from their seats as well. “Don’t.”

Arms out in surrender, looking down at the hand on his chest, with his three lackeys looking like they’re ready to fight, Gyubin says, “Hey man, I mean no harm. Just want to catch up with my good friend Hyunjin.” You weren’t dumb, you could tell from his tone alone that him and Hyunjin were not friends at all.

Turning towards Hyunjin, you ask him in a hushed tone, “Hyunjin, who are they?”

Quickly, he says to you, “No bodies. Just people from the past.” From that answer alone, you knew not to ask anymore questions.

You knew of Hyunjin’s past. Everyone had warned you of him because of it. Hyunjin was the stereotypical bad boy. He skipped school, he got into fights & even smoked. You even saw a glimpse of this version of him when you first moved out here, but he wasn’t the same Hyunjin from the past anymore. He himself said that you were the reason why he changed.

“What was that Hyunjin? Did I just hear you call us a bunch of nobodies? Last time I checked; we were more than just nobodies. If I remember correctly, we were the guys that beat you up so badly that you had to go to the hospital.”

“That’s because it was 4 against 1 and you guys brought 2x4’s. He would’ve totally beaten you guys up if you didn’t have such a huge advantage,” Jisung said, butting in.

“Jisung, shutup.” Hyunjin says to him. Finally looking at Gyubin and others, Hyunjin says to them, “Look, I don’t want to start anything right now dude. Why don’t you just go away so that we can all enjoy our night.”

“You know what? I just think you’re afraid to get you butt whooped again, especially in front Y/n.” Gyubin looks you straight in the eyes when he says your name.

In a flash, Hyunjin gets up from his position next to you and is clutching Gyubin’s shirt by the collar, “Don’t you dare say their name. Something so precious shouldn’t escape a nasty mouth like yours. Heck you shouldn’t even be allowed to be this close to them. I don’t want them to get filthy because of you.” By now everyone has crowded around them and you have gotten up from your seated position. “Hyunjin,” Chan attempts to get Hyunjin to stop, but to no avail, he doesn’t listen.

“Oh yeah? And what are you gonna do about it?” Hyunjin starts to draw his fist back, getting ready to land one on Gyubin’s face. Not wanting the situation to get any more out of hand, you call out to Hyunjin while holding on to the back of his shirt,

“Hyunjin, I want to go home.”

He silently turns around towards you and the hardened look on his face softens, and he drops his fist. Without another thought, he retreats and wraps an arm around your waist, “Then let’s go home.”

“Wait? That’s it? You’re not gonna fight?” Gyubin asks, obviously annoyed.

Without turning around, Hyunjin says to him, “No, I got better things to do right now.”

Scoffing, Gyubin says, “I see that you’ve gone soft.”

“And what of it?”

Leading you to the car, he opens the door, letting you get into the car, and when he gently shuts the door for you, Chan grabs him by the shoulder, and says to him, “I’m proud of you.” Motioning towards you with his head, he adds, “You got a keeper right there.”

“I know, hyung.”

The drive back to your house is filled with silence, neither of you knowing what to say to the other. Thousands of ways to apologize to you filling up Hyunjin’s head and just too many thoughts in yours.

“Y’know, it was a pretty reckless thing you did tonight.”

Softly Hyunjin responds, “I know,” sighing, while rubbing the exhaustion off of his face, “I didn’t want you to see me like that. It’s just that. It’s just that he knows how to push my buttons and I just can’t let him treat me like that and hearing your name come out of his mouth angered me so much. The way he looked at you made me want to pummel him into the ground.”

Wanting him to know how you truly felt about the situation, you confess to him, “It was scary to see you like that.” After hearing your words, guilt ran throughout Hyunjin’s body. The last thing he ever wanted was for you to be scared because of him. Finding a safe place to pull over on the side of the road, Hyunjin puts the car in park. Turning towards you, reaching out for your hands, he gets you to look him in the eyes, making you realize that tears were forming in his eyes “I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I scared you. I promise you that I will never see me get like that ever again.”

Letting go of one of his hands, you gently clutch his has, gently rubbing your thumb against his cheek, “It’s okay Hyunjin. I’m okay. I’m just worried about you.” Moving your hand from his cheek to his lips, he plants a soft kiss on your palm, “I’m okay as long as you’re okay.”

Unable to stop yourself from chuckling, you say to him, “Gyubin was right, you have gone soft.”

“Only for you babe.”

Rolling your eyes, “Yeah, yeah, whatever. Just take me home now, I can hear the couch and Crazy, Rich, Asians calling out for us all the way from here.”

“Oh, so now you want to watch romcoms and cuddle with me,” Hyunjin says cheekily.

Pushing his face away, you respond, “Just drive, you big softie.” Smiles are etched on both of your faces, as Hyunjin begins to drive the two of you back home.

A/n: I know I have requests to do, but I couldn’t get the thought of this out of my head so I had to get it out. I hope you guys liked it! let me know what you guys thought of it, feedback is always welcomed :)

masterlist

309 notes · View notes

cinnaminsvga · 3 years

Text

🌷 social media au where y/n posts an advertisement looking for a new place to stay that is closer to campus, causing seven upperclassmen to make it their mission to recruit her into their dormitories 🌷

A/N: THIS TOOK FOREVER AND I KINDA RUSHED IT AT THE END BUT HOPEFULLY IT MAKES SENSE?? anyway, yoongi didn’t do anything stupid (depending on your definition of stupid) so no need to worry about him being cringey,,, i spared you all from the secondhand embarrassment but i won’t be so kind next time!! anyway... enjoy || W.C. 3.8K

prev // part 11 // next masterlist here.

By the time Seokjin’s phone begins to ring, Yoongi can already feel the dread settle deep inside his bones. The familiar coil of anxiety tightens around his throat like a vice, and Yoongi has to remember how to breathe to keep himself from fainting like a corseted Victorian lady.

“Well, that must be her!” Seokjin chimes, promptly declining your call without a glance. Yoongi catches a glimpse of your contact photo anyway: it’s an unflattering angle of you from below your neck, giving the illusion of a multitude of chins. If it were any other time, Yoongi might have smiled like a lovesick fool.

“Don’t you dare let her in here,” Yoongi seethes. He tries to sound menacing, but the effect is severely diminished by how badly his voice cracks. He tugs at Seokjin by the sleeve, but the older man refuses to budge. “Hyung, I’m serious. I know what you’re trying to do.”

“Are you done live-tweeting your confusion now? Finally got the memo? I always knew you were a smart boy,” Seokjin laughs, patting Yoongi on the shoulder with his tomato sauce-covered tongs. “Since we’re on the same page now, why don’t you change clothes while I finish cooking? I know your entire wardrobe is composed of the free t-shirts you got from job fairs, but it would do well to wear a clean, unstained shirt.”

Yoongi swipes at him, hissing like the catboy that he is. “You’re the one who wiped shit on me, asshole. And yes, I figured out what you are trying to do. You think you’re so slick, but I know that you’re just trying to embarrass me in front of Y/N!”

Seokjin shrugs. “It isn’t like I’m trying to be slick. I embarrass you all the time. Besides, I’m setting you up on a date with the love of your life! You should be thanking me, if I’m being honest.”

Yoongi stammers, his jaw dropping in shock. “Love of my–?”

Seokjin waves his tongs in his face, silencing him. “Oh, hush. Don’t even try to hide it, Yoongi. I figured out that you like Y/N. Your weird behavior finally makes sense! After years of you avoiding her, I always thought you were just bad at forming human connections, but turns out you’ve got a gigantic heart boner for my best friend!”

“Please don’t phrase it like that,” Yoongi groans, smashing his head against his kitchen counter. He hopes a few brain cells might have died, just so he can stop processing the words coming out of Seokjin’s mouth. “Actually, just please stop talking.”

Seokjin snorts in exasperation as if Yoongi was the dramatic one between them. “Point is, this is a favor that I’ve chosen to grant you from the goodness of my heart! As I said, I’m giving you the love life you deserve! So stop whining and get moving before Y/N gets up here.”

“There isn’t any goodness nor a heart inside of you. And more importantly, when was the last time you did anything for free, you capitalist bastard!”

Seokjin clicks his tongue, shaking his head. “That’s where you’re wrong, Yoongi-chi. You’ve already paid me for my services by offering me front row seats to watch you lose your fucking mind. And that, my friend, is priceless.”

“Aha! So you do admit that this is all just a ploy to humiliate me!” Yoongi shouts. He grabs a knife from his scabbard, pointing it threateningly at Seokjin. He doesn’t even flinch, instead gently guiding Yoongi by the wrist over to the chopping board where he had placed some garlic cloves beforehand. Without prompting, Yoongi’s hand begins to move, his culinary instincts taking over.

“Yes and no,” Seokjin admits as he grabs Yoongi’s cast iron pan from the top shelf (which he has never gotten to use since he bought it, ever since Seokjin had borrowed it once and placed it too high for him to retrieve.) “I’m honestly trying to help you out here, my dude. Besides, even if shit hits the fan, Y/N isn’t gonna think any less of you. She’s too much of an idiot to resent anyone.”

“Speaking from experience?” Yoongi huffs, eyeing him with intense vitriol. “Can’t say I understand how she’s gone this long without killing you.” The next time the two of them are alone together in the wilderness, he can’t promise that his hands won’t find their way around Seokjin’s throat, and it won’t be sexy.

“Hmm. Yeah, definitely,” he says, nodding absentmindedly. As he begins to season the steak, he hands the cast iron pan to Yoongi. “Start preheating this. We need it to be smoking hot before we can place the steak on there.”

“I know how to cook a steak, fucker. And who said you’re allowed to serve my Wagyu steak? I was saving that for a special occasion!”

Seokjin looks up from his ministrations long enough to raise a brow at him. “So going on your first ever date with Y/N isn’t considered a special occasion?”

Yoongi falters, eyes widening. “N-no, that’s not what I mean!” he defends hotly, but he quickly snaps out of it. “Wait, no! This is not a date! Not when both parties did not agree to any of this!”

Seokjin pauses from his cooking to place a perfectly manicured hand on his hip. “I mean, Y/N agreed to it, so are you going to reject her? Huh? Too good for her and my spaghetti?”

Yoongi scoffs, rolling his eyes. “No, she did not agree to this. She doesn’t even know you’re forcing her to eat lunch with me.”

“How can you say that with such certainty?” Seokjin challenges, puffing his cheeks. “You don’t even know what I told her!”

Except I do know what you said, Yoongi thinks darkly to himself. And more importantly, I know what she thinks you were implying. He is pretty sure that the words “crush on him during high school” have seared themselves underneath his eyelids forevermore.

But instead, he says, “Yeah, well. If what you told her is as vague as what you told me, I have a pretty good hunch that this is going to blow up into a huge misunderstanding.”

Like the absolute menace that he is, all Seokjin does is shrug nonchalantly. “Suppose you are right… Who cares? It’s not like the two of you are strangers, so I’m sure this is going to go great!”

“What the fuck? She is a stranger! I’ve literally only spoken two words to her in the past four years!” Yoongi seethes, his temple throbbing from an oncoming migraine.

Seokjin ignores him, as per his want. “Grab that plate, will you? I gotta plate the pasta before Y/N starts calling again to let her into the building,” he says, nudging the tongs into Yoongi’s hands. Yoongi squawks, quickly turning the stove off to keep the food from burning.

Seokjin tears off his (read: Yoongi’s) apron off, wiping his hands on his jeans with a quick smile. “Great! While you finish up here, I’ll distract Y/N for a bit in my room before I lead her in here, alright? You better hurry unless you want to keep her waiting!”

“Oh, like how you kept her waiting downstairs for the past–” Yoongi checks his wall clock, “–seven minutes?”

Seokjin cackles madly, rushing out the door. “Well, that’s where you and I differ, Yoongi-chi! I give no shits about how Y/N thinks about me, so good luck!” After sending Yoongi three flying kisses for good measure, Seokjin slams the door shut, leaving Yoongi to simmer in his bad life choices.

The worst choice that he’s ever made? Being friends with one (1) Kim Seokjin.

“God, just end me,” Yoongi mutters, placing his $80 steak on his pan. It sizzles deliciously, much like how his (nonexistent) love life is about to get burnt to a crisp.

x x x x x

“Took you long enough.” You watch as Seokjin taunts you with a funny little dance by the lobby of his dormitory, the building receptionist not even batting an eye at his eccentricity. That’s the sad side effect of living in close proximity with Seokjin: you start getting desensitized to most things, not even flinching at the sight of a man without a functioning central nervous system.

Seokjin slides his card to open the door, finally allowing you entry. “Sorry. Got busy preparing your lunch! Which by the way, you should be thanking me for.”

“The moment I thank you for anything is the day that you slip on your own cum and die,” you grouse, nudging past him to get on the elevator first. You punch the button for the 5th floor before rapidly trying to close the elevator door on him. Unfortunately, Seokjin makes it in time before his ass gets clamped by the two steel doors.

“Thinking about my cum? Oh my, Y/N… I know you’ve had a dry spell for too long, but I didn’t think you’d be that desperate for some of my butter,” Seokjin says, leaning closely to wink at you.

Against your will, your cheeks brighten furiously, weakly pushing Seokjin away from you. “You wish. At least I don’t spend my spare time loitering outside the campus gym to ogle all the sweaty hot people.”

“And the invitation to join me still stands by the way!” Seokjin singsongs, leaping out of the elevator once you reach his floor. You walk side by side until you reach his room, but you catch him shooting a furtive glance at his next-door neighbor.

“Is Yoongi joining us for lunch?” you ask, failing to keep your curiosity from showing in your voice. If Yoongi does end up joining you for lunch (which has never happened in the past four years, convincing you that he must have a personal grudge against you), then at least it can confirm to you straight away that whatever this “date” is just another prank by Seokjin. You don’t know if you should be disappointed or grateful if it is just a joke.

Seokjin beams in response, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. “You know what? He is going to join us, actually!”

He had been in the midst of unlocking his dorm when he changes direction, leading you to Yoongi’s door instead. He rifles through his other keys, and you notice one of them looks similar to his own house key, except with a Hello Kitty sticker on it. He pulls that key out and promptly unlocks Yoongi’s door without missing a beat.

What kind of weirdo must Yoongi be to give Seokjin a spare key to his dorm? You’d rather shit out a cactus than let Seokjin have free entry to your home whenever he pleases.

You hesitate by Yoongi’s door, feeling nervous all of a sudden. “Um, Seokjin? Are you sure it’s okay for me to–?”

“HONEY I’M HOOOOME!” Seokjin’s loud guffaw cuts you off before you can finish your question. He bursts through the door and leaves you by the hallway, and you watch as he nearly tackles Yoongi to the ground.

Yoongi, despite looking like he’s half the size of Seokjin on a good day, manages to keep upright despite how his back is now bent parallel to the floor. “Get off me!” he yells, roughly pushing Seokjin off of him.

Seokjin tumbles to the floor, but the shit-eating grin on his face hardly wavers. He points at you by the doorway, a cheeky grin on his lips. “Look, Yoongi-chi! I brought a guest!”

Yoongi spares you half a glance before returning his attention to whatever he was cooking. “I suppose you did.”

Okay, this date is definitely a joke. Why the hell did you even think for a second that Seokjin might have been into you?

“Um,” you stutter nervously. You grind your heel into the carpet self-consciously, your gaze downcast. “Hello, Yoongi. Sorry for the intrusion, by the way…”

“It’s fine,” Yoongi replies, albeit a little curtly. He clears his throat, his face still tilted away from you so you can’t tell if he’s genuinely annoyed or not.

You point a glare at Seokjin, who looks shamelessly pleased with himself. After taking a deep breath, you take your first steps into Yoongi’s home before gently closing the door.

As you look around at your new surroundings, you notice that his home is a lot cleaner than you would have expected, though you’re not exactly sure what you should have expected in the first place. It’s minimalist, but not in a barren type of way; it’s seems like Yoongi is fond of simple designs more than anything. It’s certainly a nice change of pace compared to Seokjin’s abomination of a room, with his vaguely yellow-stained bedsheets.

The smell of freshly cooked pasta and meat being grilled catches your senses immediately. You watch as Yoongi flips over a hefty piece of steak, the aroma causing your mouth to salivate instantly.

“I… What is… Huh?” you start, not knowing what to ask. You catch Seokjin snickering quietly to himself, but promptly shuts up when you mime punching him in the dick.

“It’ll be finished in a second. Why don’t you sit down?” Yoongi announces quietly, his gaze still fixed away from you. Confused but left with no other choice, you tentatively make your way to his couch, unable to relax as your spine remains ramrod straight and your jaw stays clenched.

You hear Seokjin shuffling behind you until he eventually makes his way to sit with you, plopping onto the couch as if it were his home. “Ah… I’m soooo hungry. Smells good, doesn’t it?” he asks you, his brow wiggling too much to be considered normal. Either that, or he was having a stroke.

“Yeah, it does,” you say, greatly uncomfortable. You peek at Yoongi once more, who is still dutifully attending to the steak. Making sure he isn’t looking, you twist Seokjin by the nipple, causing the elder to let out a high-pitched squeal. To an outsider, it might have almost sounded like he was being pleasured.

“Ouch! What the fuck was that for?” Seokjin whines, rubbing his tenderized nipples.

“You know what that was for,” you hiss, keeping your volume low. “What the hell are we doing here? Why are you making Yoongi cook for us?!”

“For us? It’s for you!” Seokjin snaps back. “Didn’t you say you would only come over if you got fed? Well, this is how you get fed!”

“I was under the assumption that you would be feeding me, not him!” you seethe. You check back on Yoongi, who still hasn’t looked your way once. “The poor boy… No wonder he doesn’t like me! He must think I’m as bad as you!”

Seokjin snorts. “Of course he likes you! This whole lunch date wouldn’t have even fucking happened if he wasn’t assdeep in lo–”

“Lunch is finished,” Yoongi interrupts loudly, his spatula rattling loudly against his pan. The sudden noise makes you jump away from Seokjin, who appears vaguely triumphant.

“T-thanks,” you stutter, standing up and resisting the random urge to shake his hand. Everything about this situation is so tense and awkward that it feels like you’re being filmed for a prank Youtube video or something. Knowing Seokjin, the odds of that happening are great.

“That’s my cue to leave then! Bye! You guys have fun!” Seokjin says, jumping to his feet.

You vaguely hear Yoongi gasp quietly when you launch yourself at Seokjin, just narrowly keeping from escaping. “Oh no, you don’t! Who said you could leave? You’re not going anywhere!”

But like the slippery snake that he is, Seokjin manages to wriggle out of your arms and hop over Yoongi’s coffee table to get to the door. “Too bad! I have classes to get to, so I gotta blast! Use this time to get to know each other or whatever it is that kids do these days,” he says, winking salaciously. With one final sputter of (evil) laughter, Seokjin makes his exit, leaving you and Yoongi to fester in some good ol’ fashioned discomforting silence.

“Um,” you say, just as Yoongi opens his mouth to say something too.

“No, you go first–”

“You go ahead–”

The two of you pause mid-sentence, staring at each other. You grin sheepishly at him, motioning for him to speak first.

He returns your smile half-heartedly. “So, um… I just wanted to say I’m sorry for letting Seokjin rope you into this. I tried stopping him, but… You know how he is.”

You laugh, sounding a little crazed even to your own ears. That’s the longest sentence you’ve ever heard him speak!

“Yeah, believe me… I am intimately aware of how he is. Sometimes I wish I wasn’t,” you joke.

Amazingly, your little quip makes his smile widen, his cheeks puffing up imperceptibly. “Glad we can agree that Seokjin has the amazing ability to ruin people’s lives. It’s almost welcoming to find solidarity in a shared experience.”

“Shared experience? Try shared trauma. That dude is a walking serotonin sucker,” you say dryly.

You don’t think what you said was remotely funny enough to warrant a laugh, but it causes Yoongi to let out a loud snort regardless. But the amusement on his face is short-lived, his cheeks going red in embarrassment. He slaps a hand to his mouth, breaking eye contact once more. “Oh fuck, that was so unflattering,” he groans, clearly mortified.

His blush, multiplied by his shy demeanor, makes you want to coo at him, but you doubt he’d take that too kindly. So instead, you change the subject to save him. “So, uhh… The food? You don’t have to give me any, by the way. I wouldn’t want you to waste your lunch on me or anything.”

Yoongi snaps out of his previous embarrassment, returning to the more familiar stoic expression you’ve come to associate with Yoongi. “No, that’s fine. Seokjin–er, rather… I made enough for two people, so it would be a waste if you didn’t eat at least some of it. But I don’t care either way if you want it or not.”

For two people? you wonder. So Yoongi had known Seokjin wasn’t going to join for lunch?

“Oh, if it’s fine with you…” you trail off, meekly making your way towards him. The spaghetti and steak look absolutely delicious, though you don’t need to tell him that when your stomach speaks for you. “Oh shit, that’s so embarrassing,” you say, your cheeks heating up this time.

Yoongi chuckles, shaking his head. “Haven’t eaten breakfast yet, I assume? That’s pretty stupid if you ask me. Don’t you have class until 5? How the hell would you have survived until then?”

You choke in surprise. Where did all that sass suddenly come from? “Excuse me? I’m not stupid! I would’ve been fine with a sandwich from the cafeteria if you must know!” you say indignantly. You’re too busy being offended that you don’t fully comprehend his words, failing to notice how he had known you had class until 5 in the first place.

“Sure, whatever you say.” Rolling his eyes, Yoongi starts shifting through his cupboards and pulling out a pink tupperware. He begins to load them with food, nearly overflowing the containers with how much he tries to stuff in them.

“H-hey! What are you doing?”

“Packing your lunch. You have class in a bit, yeah? It’s almost 11:50 and it takes around 15 minutes to get to the main campus. You won’t have time to eat here and make it in time,” he says, pointing you with a look. “Wait. Did you have coffee this morning?”

“Yeah? So?” you ask, defensive. “Are you gonna call me stupid again for not having caffeine or something?”

“No,” he grunts. “If you’re caffeinated, then that means it should only take you 7 minutes to get to class.”

“That doesn’t even make sense!” you exclaim, but you can’t help letting out an incredulous laugh. “Wow. You’re kinda weird, did you know that?”

“You barely even know me, so how would you know?” he retorts. He finishes placing food into the tupperware and promptly clicks the lid in place. He offers it to you, smirking slightly.

You huff, but your ire is all for show. You aren’t actually annoyed by him–he’s just… different from what you expected. A little shy, a little rough around the edges… but you can tell he isn’t a bad guy. You understand why Seokjin loves to torment him; he seems like a fun person to tease.

“That can be amended,” you respond, taking the tupperware from him. Your fingers graze the backs of his hand by accident, causing him to quickly retract his hand as though he’d been burned. You nearly drop the container in surprise, but luckily your reflexes save your precious food just in time.

“Sorry. About… you know.” Yoongi gesticulates wildly, his gaze darting anywhere but at you.

You smile secretly to yourself, amused. Ah. He’s like a human seesaw. Blushy one second and grumpy the next. “No worries, Yoongi. I’ll be sure to return this container soon, so don’t you worry.”

Yoongi shrugs. “Keep it if you want. I don’t care either way.”

Says the guy who has an entire cupboard full of color coordinating food containers. “Roger that, Yoongi.”

Yoongi walks you out the door, pausing outside the hallway with you. “Do you…” he hesitates, swallowing loudly enough for you to hear. “Do you… want me to walk you out?”

His sudden offer almost makes you want to laugh, but you have a feeling he wouldn’t find it amusing at all. Instead, you just shake your head with a smile. “Don’t worry. I won’t get lost. I think I remember where the door is.”

He pouts, his lips jutting out cutely. “Yeah, well. I was just trying to be nice, but you do you.”

You giggle lightly, patting him on the shoulder. “Don’t worry. You were more than nice,” you say, winking for added effect. It does more than you thought it would, causing Yoongi’s cheeks to bloom once more.

With one last wave, you make your way out of the dormitory, your heart a little lighter than before.

“Huh. That was weird.” You glance at the pink little tupperware in your hands, its warmth keeping your hands safe from the winter chill. As you walk to class, your thoughts are filled with nothing but a shy boy with soft hands and even softer cheeks. Maybe Tuesday isn’t going to be so bad after all.

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